#and that's why him and starlight are such a good match

[hammerhead-jpg]

Do you guys know how in MLP ponies who have magic are only good at magic related to their specialty, but twilight's specialty is magic so she's good at all magic

That's Avior with special interests. He has a special interest on having special interests therefore being interested and knowing everything about everything

You cannot stop him

[a-mint-bear]

Courtship Rituals

Male Yandere x Reader

So… that's definitely space outside the window. It's been a week since you woke up on this ship, and the weird alien who keeps checking in on you is… nice enough. But something about him seems off...

____________________________

"I see you're doing well, starlight."

He’d been checking up on you more often lately. At least you were pretty sure they were a "he". Since his voice started getting translated by the device on his temple, it was sounding decidedly masculine.

Since you’d woken up on this ship, he’d been keeping an eye on you. At first, you’d been terrified, and rightly so. Waking up to an eight-foot-tall, armored alien staring at you had been too much. After screaming and throwing things, and more screaming, he'd seemed unbothered by your reaction. He tried talking to you, but it just sounded like chirps and chuffs, like a big cat. He'd done his best to communicate, but nothing was coming across.

With a defeated hiss, he disappeared for a day or so. You’d attempted to get out of the massive, round bed but the sudden movement made your vision swim and a nauseous feeling crashed over you. With so many questions still bouncing around in your head, you were frustrated that all you could really do was wait.

You had a dreamless sleep, the night sky trailing on endlessly outside the massive floor-to ceiling window that made you feel all the more insignificant.

____________________________

When he came back the next day (maybe?), you finally got a good look at him. His face was the only vaguely human thing about him, save for large, dark eyes that glowed in the dark and odd scales on his cheeks and forehead. He had pointed ears that almost looked like they belonged to a bat. They swiveled and twitched, especially when you spoke. He was rarely expressive, though you did see him attempt a smile from time to time. You say "attempt" because it was way too wide and revealed far too many sharp teeth. It set off some ancient instinct in you to stay the hell away. You tried to ignore it but still kept your guard up just in case.

A keyboard-like light panel that projected from a device on his forearm chimed as he tapped away at it, and he approached you with a metal circle no bigger than your thumbnail, matching the one he wore. You backed away, hyper-aware of the stranger's touch. He… purred at you? And while you were distracted, he tapped it to your right temple.

There was a sharp pinch, the pain pulsing away with your heartbeat. When you cried out, he was quick to touch his long, clawed fingers to yours, maybe trying to comfort you.

You could hear the device whirring away against your skin, latching onto you and beeping intermittently. You’d never felt anything interacting with what felt like your brain before, and you could say without a doubt that it was NOT great.

The noises stopped, and a low, almost ghostly voice purred in your ear.

"Communication link established. The device should be fully functional now…"

“Hello there.” His clawed finger caressed yours, soothing your pain. It eventually faded, that purring of his actually seemed to help. “I hope your rest has helped you overcome your transfer sickness.”

From then on, any time he talked to you, it swung between intelligent, endless technical talk that one might expect from this extra sci-fi guy and…

Awkward small talk?

"Lovely weather we're having today." He smiled that horrifying smile of his, sitting on the end of the bed.

With an awkward glance out the window, you had the thought that there was, of course, no weather in space.

"Have you read any interesting publications as of late?"

You shook off the odd nature of the questions, cutting to the chase.

Why were you here?

"Of course, I've brought you onto my ship for the… hmm. It seems there is no exact translation for it." He seemed puzzled, tapping away at the device. "The closest term that I can find is… ah. The Courtship."

You froze.

Courtship?

He seriously abducted you to… woo you?

And here you thought that was a cliché for extraterrestrials…

That would explain the awkward small talk. But it was still too weird.

You tried to get to the bottom of all this. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the wave of anxiety that had yet to wash away.

You had no idea as to how he would react to you just saying “No, take me back to Earth.” So, you’d have to ease into it, gauge his reactions.

You told him your name. He mulled over it, mispronouncing it a few times before growling a little. It made you freeze, your brain was again screaming “Danger, get away from here NOW”, but you needed to keep your head.

“If I could, it sounds… very similar to the word my people have for… the closest translation I can come to is the… electromagnetic radiation from self-gravitational fixed plasma points that are visible to the naked eye. Starlight… yes, that will suffice.”

If he weren’t an actual, literal alien, you would swear he was upping his word count to sound smarter. But you had no clue how this translator worked, maybe it just pointed him to the closest words to what he wanted to say.

But it seemed you had a nickname. A very romantic-sounding one. Great.

You asked him for his name in return.

"Yes, my designation. My species has little use for such titles." He brushed off the notion with a shift of his dark eyes, staring into yours again. "We do not interact with one another to require such differentiation. I have heard of my people taking a title assigned to them by their mate, for their own assurance, as we mate for life."

He leaned to be closer to you, his face uncomfortably close to yours. You guessed he was kind of handsome, for a literal alien… But that wasn’t any of his business.

"Would you like to assign me a title, my starlight?"

He was thinking of you… as his mate? Already? Or was that just an example? You’d literally spent less than a full day actually talking with him and he was talking about mating for life? It was all too much.

You didn’t want him to assume you were okay with any of this, but it might help him see you in a better light. Make you a person in his eyes, and not just a (hopefully temporary) guest on his ship. Maybe even sympathize with you when you asked him about turning the thing around and taking you back home.

You combed your mind for anything that would fit, digging deep for your middle school astronomy/mythology phases.

You asked if he would be okay if you called him Cygnus, only telling him it was the name of a star back on Earth. But it stood out with his casual “mate for life” comment, even though he resembled a dragon/cat more than a swan. Not to mention the story of an otherworldly being making advances towards someone he really shouldn’t, as Zeus once did to Leda.

“Siig…nussss…” he hissed out the last syllable, his tongue flicking out over the strange word. “Cygnus… I will cherish this title, starlight.” he nuzzled your hand to his scaled cheek, purring again. Before you could say anything else, the panel on his arm went off with a sudden alarm.

“Apologies.” he stood, tapping at some of the keys. “I must attend to something.”

Before Cygnus could step away from the bed, you panicked, reaching out and grabbing his hand. He stared at you, a curious purr slipping out before he knelt by the bedside.

You held his large hand in yours, pleading with him that you couldn’t do this. You had a life, he took you from it and this was all too much. You just wanted to go home.

His expression never changed, but he touched your hair, seeming almost entranced by it. You wondered if this alien would take pity on you, if he could be persuaded to do the right thing.

“Ah, you seem to be misinterpreting something.” You could see the realization in his dark eyes. “The language barrier is beginning to become a hindrance.”

He held your hand in a placating way, patting it gently like he had seen someone do the same thing without knowing much context.

“The Courtship is… something my people have been doing for eons. They believe that genetic variation is the key to a long-standing civilization. No two of us are genetically similar to each other after a few generations. We have varying appearances and life expectancies. We visit a faraway star system and… take a viable mate from the populace. Some do this at random, some monitor their prospective mates to assess compatibility.”

“After searching for so long, I found myself interested in the humanoid species of Earth. The longer I observed, searching for my perfect mate, the more I became… intrigued by the courtship rituals I observed.”

“You engage in meaningless banter where neither party really cares for the answer. The lingering touches, the subtle glances. Small meaningful gifts or large shows of extravagance to display to the prospective mate that they can provide. And dancing… I was especially intrigued by how your species uses such a thing for showcasing sexual compatibility. The Courtship is such a… straightforward and dull undertaking by comparison.”

“I saw you, just walking alone…” His eyes were shining as he looked at you, that damn purring started back up whenever he paused. “I’ve heard from others of my kind that we just… know. And when I saw you I knew…I knew you were my mate.”

The way he said it, it felt like you stopped breathing. He was looking at you like… like a predator who’d finally cornered their prey. That’s what your brain had been warning you about.

“We take our mate aboard our ships and begin… this word isn’t coming across. I will do some research… Regardless, this is not traditionally a… harmonious process?” he tilted his head, still as emotionless as before. “No, perhaps… consensual is the better term.”

You didn’t dare to look away from his eyes, that horrible, terrified feeling clawing down your back. You suddenly wondered if you’d ever seen him blink.

“That particular element of The Courtship continues to be necessary.”

Cygnus caressed your cheek, you could feel his claws gently touch your skin, they were blunt and curved. You were suddenly reminded of how some claws like that weren’t meant to tear and slash, but rather pin and capture.

Words completely failed you, not that you knew what to say. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead.

“Get some rest, my starlight.” he touched his forehead to yours, nuzzling you as he purred. “I’ll court you as long as it takes.”

He stepped out of the room and left you to your own devices, and you went into the “flight” option of fight or flight. There was no obvious way to open the door to the room, no handle or lock, just a slab of metal that stood out from the surrounding wall. You tried to rattle it, push on it, kick it down. But it didn’t budge.

The little thing on your head beeped, and it seemed to communicate with a robot eye-looking thing above the door. It lit up in recognition of your device, but then blinked red with a quick negative-sounding chime. It was confirmation of something you already suspected, but didn’t want to accept.

You were locked in. You’d probably been locked in the entire time. Cygnus’ calm demeanor made you think he could be reasoned with, made to see you were your own person who deserved to live your own life.

You slid down the door, collapsing into panicked tears.

It was clear that he saw you as anything but.

____________________________

Affectionately nicknaming the alien yandere "Siggy" in my head. because Cyggy looks a little silly, but either are acceptable.

with his face it's possible that there was a human somewhere in his lineage, way way back when. it's mostly surface level, as he doesn't even recognize it in himself. to be fair, there's no one way his species is "supposed" to look.

His people do the whole "alien abduction" thing to reproduce, probably not in the old-fashioned way but more of a gene-splice-y way, but it's still a terrifying practice.

it's been a hot second since i posted anything, started my new job and i tend to get into a creative slump when i get into work mode. but sitting down at my actual computer to write this instead of editing it on my phone or old tablet did the trick.

now im sitting here thinking "does he have a tail?" and now im debating it lol. he probably definitely has those legs, you know the ones. google tells me it's called digitigrade.

and that "armor" is really just like... a scaley exoskeleton. but not really, more like a crab shell that would grow back if damaged or ripped off. it protects his soft, vulnerable body. he molts it every year and he gets super embarrassed being seen without his "armor" ha

until next time, i have to get some work done ✌️

edit: art of Cygnus

[emmyrosee]

When you paw the bed next to you for a sign of warmth, you furrow your brows at the feeling of it cold. You’d expected at least Hiroki to be next to you, filling up the warm area that Osamu’s body leaves, but there’s nothing.

There’s a set of laughter coming from the kitchen, Hiroki and Rumi’s, probably at their poor father’s expense, and it has you smiling as you slowly sit up to face the day.

You yawn and make your way over to his laundry basket, grabbing a random shirt and a pair of SpongeBob boxers to wear before making your way out to the kitchen, the smell of breakfast having your mouth water in excitement.

“Mommy doesn’t like that,” you hear a tiny voice say, and you smirk softly at Hiroki’s sass.

Osamu says he got it from you. You tell him he got it from Atsumu.

“Well mommy’s not here right now, is she?”

“Mumma’s gonna sold you,” Rumi then chirps, and you slowly make your way into the kitchen, smiling at the sight.

There’s a tiny girl and an even younger boy standing on either side of their Osamu, one more tiny girl on his hip while he has a verbal battle with him about whatever he did to your breakfast.

“Mommy’s gonna scold both of you if you wake her up on a weekend,” he sings.

With the threat, the two children dash away, and when their strawberry juice stained faces finally look up to you, you hold a finger up to shush them. They giggle softly and repeat the action back to you.

With a soft step, you creep towards Osamu with a playful grin, careful to be as quiet as you can under the sound of him making breakfast. You skitter your fingers up his sides to make him squeal, and as he does just that, your eldest and middle children laugh loudly before growing quiet and snickery under Osamu’s faux glare of warning.

“Why don’t you go play with worms or something?” He teases, and you click your tongue because you know damn well they’ll try to do it.

“Not without mommy. Go play inside.”They nod and scatter, and Osamu finally turns his gaze to you while you plant a kiss on your infants cheek. “Morning my baby.”

“Morning- oh, wait. Me or the actual baby?” He asks.

“I can address both of you under the same name,” you assure, rising on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek now. “Makin’ breakfast for me?”

“I wanted you to sleep in,” he sighs, but he smiles down at you. “After Hiroki practically headbutted me awake, I figured we could do something nice for ya.”

“Awww, honey,” you coo, resting your head on his shoulder and rubbing a palm up and down his back.

You hang in the silence of frying foods and quiet clangs of bowls, before you break it with a hug around his waist, kissing his arm for attention.

“Fatherhood looks so good on you,” you mewl, rising up on your tiptoes to meet him for a kiss. When he leans down to match you, you give him a playful swat on his butt, making him yelp out.

“Do not,” he grumbles, still smiling.

You roll your eyes, your hands now moving to cup his cheeks, “you never let me have any fun.” When you try to kiss him again, your toddler sticks her fingers between you both, fishhooking poor Osamu’s lip and pulling to the side.

“Okay- ow, okay-“ he whines, using his hand to gently move hers from his mouth. “Quick, kiss me now.”

You snicker and do as he asks, but your moment lasts even shorter when your Hiroki and Rumi come around the corner, synchronized “ewwwww!”’s falling from their lips.

He sighs, planting a kiss to your head, “how’s fatherhood looking to you now?”

You beam up at him, “never better.”

-

tagging u 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 @reverie-starlight @tsukiran @wolffmaiden @thoreeo @aliensknowmyillusions @tutuwusworld @lavishcherie @sassycheesecake @cheolattes 🩷.

[readychilledwine]

can i please request something with azriel where reader has a voice kink? like when he whisper something in her ear her, she gets goosebumps and can’t focus, literally like his deep, dark voice turns her on. He could be asking about the laundry and she’ll literally blush bc pls it’s azriel. And he notices this immedietly 👀

I'm sweating. Are you sweating?

Whispers in the Dark

Summary - Azriel is ever the opportunist when it comes to using a recently discovered fetish against you.

Warnings - Auralism, dom/sub dynamics, implied smut/sexual situations, implied edging and teasing, Azriel being a daddy and playful

"What's wrong, starlight?" You could feel him smirking against your ear, his scarred hands running up and down your arms as chills broke out around them. "Why are you so distracted, hmm?"

Your eyes fluttered shut as he placed a kiss and then a gentle nip to your pointed ear. "Stop it," your voice was shaking. "I need to get this done for Rhys. I promised him I'd have his desk organized by the end of the day."

Azriel licked your ear before pulling away. "Fine. Have it your way." The shit eating grin on his face, the way he left the room without turning his back to you, all of it had wetness pooling between your thighs as you went back to organizing Rhysand's countless reports and separating them by who should be handling them.

Azriel had figured out three months into your relationship he could get you off on his voice alone. He had asked you one day about laundry and mending a shirt Cassian had torn turning a sparring matching, and he said it was your face that gave it way before the scent of arousal did.

He said you gave him that pretty glazed over eyes, mouth slightly parted stare he normally only saw during intimate moments. "That's new," he had said gently. "What am I supposed to do with information, starlight?" And the torture began.

He'd use that deep timber in hushed bedroom tones while asking you the most mundane things, simply to keep you on edge for hours at a time until you two were finally alone and that ache would become too much.

Then he'd use that same tone, praising you for how well you sucked or took his cock, how pretty you looked being obedient for him, blushing for him, and calling you the dirtiest names as he thrust into you long into the early hours of the morning.

He could get you off with his voice and fingers alone. And the cocky bastard knew it, too. Hed make you sit there, naked and backed against his chest with one of his long fingers circling your clit as he whispered in your ear all the things he'd be doing to you later, if you were just a good enough girl to cum.

Today was exceptionally horrible. He had been gone for month with nothing but his own hand to please himself with and the second he saw you in that pretty black dress, that blue topaz necklace dangling perfectly between your breasts, he knew he had to have you within the next few hours.

He had stopped at nothing. Sending his lust down the bond, sending his shadows to play underneath that tight dress, and finally pulling the last card he had, his voice. It'd been an hour of speaking to you about nothing and everything all at once. And now he waited, feet prompted up on his desk, truth teller in hand, and shoulders relaxed.

The second his shadows warned him you were coming, he set it out to look like he was working by pretending to read over some mission updates from the twins. You entered his office, shutting the door behind you with a soft click, and waited. "Do you need something, my starlight?" He smirked, hidden behind the report, as he watched you shiver.

You'd be here, caving to his every whim and nasty desire in a few minutes. The constant tug on the bond followed by wave after wave of arousal crashing down on him ensured that.

"I need you," your voice was laced with desperation. "Please."

Azriel continued speaking to you, that husky low voice doing exactly what he was intending. "I thought you needed to take care of Rhysand, hmm? I'm sure he can help you with your needs."

Your breathing had hitched, eyes slightly shut. He would not cave to you until you told him exactly what you needed. "I need your cock, sir."

"Oh? Is that so, starlight?" You nodded as he finally looked up at you and dropped the papers. "Then come have it and take what's yours."

[maxphilippa]

My Mephone4 post II gijinka with + without traits! (Or how I draw him on the hcs I have with my friends).

Here's some data about him:

- After all of the events in the show and managing to hide himself from Meeple, Mephone4 has been staying at Hotel OJ, being roomates with Microphone, Knife and Pickle, and has been trying to get comfortable with himself.

- He's a cat/bird hybrid! However, thanks to Test Tube, his wings have feathers now, but he can't fly due to the fact that on the past his wings were holograms and only were used to soften his falls. However, his wings, his tail and ears are all pretty soft and help him in other ways. As well, his wings can harden, and his hands/paws can have claws.

- They're bisexual, genderfluid (he/they/she), and polyamorous!

- Matching necklaces with Mic, Knife and Pickle.

- Has a matching friendship bracelet with Cabby.

- Once he was on good terms with Trophy, he helped him to dye his hair. He's pretty happy with how he looks.

- Although that is his most common outfit, he also often steals/borrows clothes from his roomates. Not that they mind.

- Test Tube upgraded and fixed her body after the events in both season finales, although Mephone4 had some upgrades themselves, the reason as to why Mephone4 didn't feel comfortable with changing/upgrading their body was because. He didn't feel like it was his body due to all that happened, and quickly regrets the changes that he had done to it. However, he ends up accepting that it is.

- He got the Meeple logo removed thanks to Test Tube as well! They're still figuring out what symbol he'd have, but his thinking of an star.

- Going to therapy. (Fucking FINALLY).

- Can hide their traits! But usually shows them since he is pretty comfortable at the Hotel now, often hides them with strangers.

- Mephone4 has fur on his chest and in other parts of his body, and, he can hide them. Unlike Mic's feather fluff, his can come out mostly on command, but obviously they can be triggered by him being happy.

- He IS pretty strong and even if he is pretty against violence, Test Tube upgraded him a lot in order to be more prepared for anything that could hurt him. You know. Just in case.

- Sometimes he feels strings in his neck due to him getting stabbed there and the USB collar getting on him.

- His paw beans are squishy and soft.

- Is trying to reconnect with MePad and trying to apologize to Toilet.

Art tags:

@burgycreeper405-blog @lilacs-stash @cookiepop-cat (sorry for the tag i think you like this guy) @novaazurite @salachy-part-two @emmkitt @spiritmander13 @odddelorean @cookieseals @po1sonus-p4rtynoob @www-starlight-dot-com @hamsterslover @smudgefan77 @cheechdog1 @kittyyoutuber1234 @voshimord @kp-does-suff @facelessthefreak @ilovethetalkingclock @boxiidragonx @yourfriendlyshapeshiftermonsters @devycolamy @anobjectshowguy @wowwzaaxei-aster @twosnails4eva @toipadisms @peppermintz-25 @rubysundaey @clwntwn @darkstalkers-scroll @sansfanboy2023 [i think you like mephone4 /silly]

[itsphoenix0724]

Falling Stars (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Az feels like his throat is closing when he sees you in your Starfall dress, and he can't seem to get a word out to you. At least, until you're both more than a few drinks in.

Warnings: SMUT, semi-public sex, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Hello everyone! This is not my best work so I apologize, but I tried to really focus on the dialogue in this one. I hope you enjoy it regardless! Also if anyone wanted to submit any ideas/suggestions of what they would like to see more of my ask box is always open. As always constructive criticism is welcome.

Azriel was going to die. 

You looked mesmerizing in your Starfall dress. The blue silk bodice hugged your figure just right, and delicate blue lace made up the bottom layered in tiers that matched the strips that fell off of your shoulders. Your leg peaked out of the high slit, and some of your hair was swept up behind you with combs encrusted with sapphire and diamond. You looked like a goddess of old, wrapped in starlight, and gracing unworthy mortals with your presence. 

He was convinced you were trying to kill him. 

Azriel had wanted to drop to his knees and worship you, or at the very least tell you he thought you looked beautiful. He actually thought beautiful was too simple of a word to describe you. However, when you made eye contact with him across the room his throat felt like it was closing in. The only thing he had been able to do was send you a tight smile and a nod before throwing back the rest of his liquor and refilling the glass. He didn’t know why he couldn’t talk to you tonight–the two of you could talk for hours. Watching your face fall at his piss-poor greeting felt like another stab to his already weak heart. You had moved to mingle around the party, and the number of male eyes on you only had him shooting back more liquor and sulking in the corner. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was not going as you planned. 

Mor had sat with you for hours selecting a dress designed to bring Az to his knees. You had chosen this dress not only because it made you feel confident, but because you thought Az would love it. 

You picked his exact shade of blue after all. 

You had walked into the party with the grace of a queen, and the confidence that you could bring a kingdom to its knees. But the only thing Az did was send you a forced smile and then run off and hide. 

Mor had tried to reassure you–she said Az always got weird during parties. Something about there being too many people, but he seemed to be socializing just fine. 

For some reason, he was giving you the cold shoulder. 

You could feel the confidence dwindling and poured yourself shots of the strongest liquor you could find. Fine, you decided, two could play this game. If he was going to pretend you didn’t exist you could do the exact same thing. 

You made your way to Cassian and Nesta, looped arm in arm with Mor, determined to have a good time. Cassian let out a loud wolf-whistle and Nesta smacked him on the arm blocking him on his path to hug you first before wrapping you in her arms. Drinks were poured for the four of you and you celebrated the falling stars the best way you knew how. 

Getting rip-roaringly drunk and enjoying the time with your friends. 

Hours passed, and the buzzing feeling in your head was getting significantly stronger. Everything tingled from the tips of your fingers to the ends of your toes, and almost everything someone said to you seemed hilarious. You had danced practically the whole night and had kicked off your heels about half an hour ago. Still, no matter what you did you couldn’t shake the feeling of the Shadowsinger’s cold shoulder all night. You had caught his shadows swirling around your ankles multiple times before they slunk away like disciplined children crawling back to their master. The fact that he was standing in the corner watching you but still hadn’t said anything to you was infuriating. 

You wanted some kind of reaction from him tonight, and you’d be damned if you didn’t get one. 

You had decided enough was enough, and worked your way through the crowd before coming to a stop directly in front of Az himself. 

He truly was a gorgeous male. He wore a black silk shirt with the top couple of buttons undone and simple back trousers. His hair wasn’t as messy as usual like he had styled it a little, but it was still falling into his eyes. Two blue siphons were still strapped to the back of his hands.

“Well,” You started, plucking the glass of whiskey out of his hands before draining the rest of the contents. Molten gold eyes tracked the movement of your throat, and a small flush rose to the tips of his ears. You realized you had your opening as you moved to further crowd his space, “have you been enjoying Starfall by yourself in this corner.” 

Az seemed slightly stunned. You weren’t normally this bold and straightforward. You always spoke with a quiet calming voice, but now there was a bite behind your words. 

“I’ve been enjoying the party.” He murmured back to you, trying very hard to keep his eyes trained on your face so they wouldn’t dip to your chest. 

That endeavor failed very quickly. 

His eyes trailed down to your cleavage and all he could think about was licking away the sheen from the party that appeared on your skin. When he saw the smirk on your face he immediately knew he had been caught looking. 

“Why have you been ignoring me all night?” The buzz you were experiencing felt like straight courage running through your veins. You wanted answers out of the male standing in front of you.

You were going to get them too.

Azriel attempts to smother the guilty look on his face, but you catch it anyway as his eyes drift back down to the floor. “If I’ve done something to upset you, you should just tell me instead of ignoring me. You’re a grown male-act like it.” Az has it in him to at least look alarmed, eyes jumping straight back up to your face. This is not at all how he wanted this night to go. He shakes his head at you, before hearing the music dip to a low waltz. He musters up all the courage he wishes he had at the beginning of the night,

“You haven’t done anything. I’ve been an immature male all night, please, let me make it up to you.” The Spymaster extends his hand to you and you eye it for a moment intending to leave him hanging in suspense. After letting him squirm you accept his hand and he leads you onto the dance floor. The music isn’t much of a dance song, more designed to be a slow sway than an elaborate waltz. Azriel draws you close to him, one warm strong hand resting on the small of your back, and the other holding your hand leading you into the music. When you two fall into a comfortable rhythm he leans down to whisper in your ear. “You look exquisite by the way.” Az enjoys the bashful look that crosses your face and the light blush that dusts your cheeks. 

“Thank you,” you hum–the close proximity to him almost makes you feel drunker, “so..are you going to tell me why you’ve been brooding all night.” You offer him a small smile, you won’t pressure him to talk but you want to know. You find you have your answer when Azriel’s stare rakes hungrily over your figure. “Oh. I see.” You can’t help but send a sultry look up at the Shadowsinger. 

You’ve caught your prey, you think you’ve earned the right to toy with it a little.

“Perhaps I’m being selfish and imagining you wore this shade of blue just for me.” Azriel’s hand drops from yours, moving to join the other around your waist as yours loop around his neck. You look up at Azriel from under your eyelashes and his intestines feel like they’re tying themselves into knots. 

“I think your ego might need a bit of a check spymaster,”  you reach down, drawing one of his hands up the curve of your waist and over your breast before stopping to rest it over your fluttering heart. His eyes almost devour you as you move his hand, pupils going dark with desire. The blue siphon is in perfect alignment with the neckline of your dress, and Az can not stop staring. “Although I must say, they are a perfect match.” Your admission feels like an electric shock straight to Azriel’s bones.

Everything in his body locks like a lion waiting to pounce. 

You meet his eyes and something charged runs through the both of you. You both know what you want, and the heated gaze Azriel levels at you already has a wetness pooling between your legs. 

When Az’s eyes dart to the door leading out of the ballroom in question, you only nod in answer. 

His hand on your back as he guides you out feels like a hot brand against your skin. Azriel leads you into a small bathroom in the hallway, and the minute the door closes behind you both he has you pinned flush against the door. You feel like all the air has been sucked out of the room as you and Azriel stare at each other. You feel one of his hands train up your exposed leg before you hear the click of the lock for the bathroom door. He drops his head to press kisses against your thundering pulse, and you can feel his nose brushing against the curve of your jaw. 

“Do you know what you’ve been doing to me all night,” Az growls into your ear, one hand firmly planted on the curve of your ass. 

The hard thing pressing against your thigh tells you exactly what you’ve been doing to him all night. 

You don’t feel like waiting anymore and drag his lips down to meet yours in a heated kiss. He tastes like bourbon and night-kissed air. It’s addicting. Strong hands wrap around your waist and give a firm squeeze to your ass that makes you gasp out a moan. He uses this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your whole body feels like it’s dissolving under his touch as you reach for his belt, the only thing on your mind was getting him out of his pants as quickly as possible. He runs one hand along the column of your throat, thumb stroking along your bottom lip. 

“Are you ready to be a good girl for me?” His dark voice rasps into your ear. You nod up at him and his golden eyes are almost completely black with desire. He growls as he flips you around and presses you against the sink, and you moan as your chest rubs against the cool marble. You feel his hands hoist up the back of your dress, and you look up to see his devilish smirk in the mirror. Your eyes trail over to his hands and see the scrap of blue lace running between his scarred fingers. “Did you wear these just for me?” That cocky smile makes your knees go weak, and you send a silent thanks to Mor for insisting that you wear the matching underwear tonight. “I like seeing you in my color sweetheart,” he sends you a wink as he tucks your underwear in his back pocket, “I think I’ll hang onto these.” 

That might be the hottest fucking thing you’ve seen. 

He teases you with his fingers and sighs before bringing them up to his mouth and licking them clean. You taste so fucking good, but he needs to get inside you soon before he explodes in his pants. He vows to spend hours between your legs another time as payment. He moans gospel around his fingertips, and while you’ve never been a religious female you might start praying to the mother tonight. 

“You’re so fucking wet and I’ve barely touched you yet.” His eyes shine with an arrogance that makes you want to wipe the smirk off his face. His voice drops to a softer tone and he stares straight into your soul through the mirror, “Are you ready for me, or do you want me to prep you first?” 

“I’m ready.” you’re writhing against the sink. You need him inside your right goddamn now or you might start crawling on him like a cat. You moan in relief when you hear him unbuckle his belt and remove himself from his trousers. From this angle you can’t see him fully, but you know he’s big if his wingspan has anything to say about it. He plants one hand on your lower back as he uses his other hand to guide himself into you. You feel the first inch slip in and then it stops, you look up at Az in confusion and his eyes meet yours in the mirror as one hand comes around to play with your nipples. 

He leans his body down to press kisses into the skin of your neck before murmuring into your ear, “Beg for the rest darling.” Flame rises to your cheeks and you pull your eyes away from the mirror, but Az pulls you back so that you’re looking at him. You try to move backwards just to draw a little more of him into you. Unfortunately his grip on your waist is like steel. You’re not going anywhere. You swallow what little pride you have left and meet his eyes in the mirror. 

“Please Az. God fuck me please.” That seems good enough for him and he slips himself the rest of the way inside of you. Az lets out a moan that makes your toes curl against the tile and your grip harden on the marble sink. 

He fucks like a beast. 

Hard and rough thrusts as one hand toys with your clit in a way that makes you feel like one of the stars you hope you’ll have enough time to see tonight.

Even if you miss it you can’t say you’d be that upset with the way the Illyrian is moving inside of you. An orgasm rips through you, tumbling through the night sky burning hot and bright before fizzling out and starting again. Az is relentless in your pleasure, pulling you to that edge again and again before he reaches his peak himself.

When you feel his thrusts start to get sloppy you know he’s close, so you start to fuck back against him. Az lets out a moan of appreciation at your efforts, and you earn a bite mark on your shoulder.

He finishes with a roar that shakes the mirror and you’ve never been gladder for the blaring music and waves of people to cover the two of you. He pulls out before gently wiping away the mess he’s made of your inner thighs before pulling your dress back down.

You gently stand with Az’s assistance and he rubs circles in your spine as apology for keeping you bent over for so long. That small act alone makes liquid gold run through your veins, and your whole body leans into the affection. Azriel opens and closes his mouth not quite knowing how to find the right words. 

After all, what do you say to the female you love after you fucked her in the bathroom? He considers a few options– We should do this again sometime, please don’t say you want nothing to do with me after this, and I’m not normally the kind of male who fucks females in bathrooms. But you’re looking at him with honeyed eyes, and you understand what he’s trying to convey to you. So you reach up and kiss him again, hands running through the silken strand of raven black hair. 

“We can talk about it later Az. We don’t have to figure everything out right now.” He nods greatufully and before you both exit the bathroom he pulls you into a bone crushing kiss he hopes conveys what his words cannot.

You leave the bathroom and rejoin your family to watch the stars together. No one can tell what happened in the bathroom at least until Cassian calls out to Azriel. 

“Hey Az! What the hell is sticking out of your back pocket?” Both of your cheeks heat and your guilty eyes immediately dart to Mor who gives you a knowing glance and tips her wine glass in salute. Cassian does nothing more but wink at his brother as Az shoves the scrap of lace further down into his pocket and yanks you closer to his side. 

Your friends will no doubt torture you for this later but wrapped in Azriel’s arms on the most beautiful night of the year you don’t seem to mind so much.

[forlorn-crows]

𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒚 3: 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒆

pairing(s): aether/mountain words: 1318 EDIT: now with art from @cryptid-stuff !!

✿

“You’ve got to release all this, starlight,” the earth ghoul insists, prodding at the tension in his neck, his upper back. Some of it’s normal muscle tightness from playing, but Mountain knows there’s other, nastier things lingering between those tendons. Supernatural stress and magick that’s built up over weeks of healing and loving and caring for others.

The hurt he takes away has to go somewhere—and Aether’s learned the hard way that the things he takes on eventually have to be expelled. 

It’s a painful process, one that can’t be done without some help. In today’s (stubborn) case, the tough love variety. 

Mountain makes a questioning noise, looking over Aether’s shoulder at his face. “You’ll let me help?”

The quint ghoul sighs, tired and sore down to the bone. He really doesn’t want to do this right now. Not with his upcoming duties. 

“Darling, if you don’t let me do it now, you’re going to fizzle out on us,” Mountain reminds him, kindly yet sternly. He places a kiss on his temple and whispers: “I have the time and the energy. Let me do this for you now.”

Aether sighs heavily. Wishing the tension would flow out with it. “Okay,” he says after a beat. 

Mountain kisses him again, pats his shoulders. “Shirt off. Preference for incense this time?”

“The one that always smells fresh, with the . . . the, uh . . .”

“Verbena?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“‘Course.” Mountain gets up to gather supplies, leaving Aether to remove his shirt and settle into the floor cushion. 

Thankfully, it’s peaceful today. Quiet. He listens to the earth ghoul rummage around in the curio cabinet. The air in the greenhouse is warm, tinged with the smell of fresh-blooming petunias and magnolias from just outside the rain-dirtied windows. Aether closes his eyes and breathes it in. Rolling his neck and tuning into his body and the pain that hangs on his frame like an ill-fitting garment. 

Behind him, the scratch of a match being lit. Touched to charcoal and snuffed out on the worn bench top. 

“Have to let it burn a bit. Here, for your lap.” Mountain hands him a black stone that spans the width of his palms, cool to the touch and polished smooth. Obsidian, if he remembers correctly. Or tourmaline, maybe? He isn’t so good with the names, but he knows to place it in the middle of his loosely crossed legs, at the bottom of an imaginary line drawn down from the tip of his nose. Helps channel the energy, Mountain had said once. 

“Do you need anything else?” the earth ghoul asks in a soft voice. 

“No, ‘m alright.”

“Okay.” Mountain smooths his hands over his bare shoulders, raising goosebumps with each tender pass. When he runs his palms along his spine, he tuts. Hovers over a spot right under his ribcage. “That’ll be a tough spot,” he sighs. 

Aether nods in agreement. “Yeah, don’t know why it decided to settle there this time.”

“I’ll be as careful as I can, starlight.” It’s a promise he doesn’t have to vocalize, of course. Aether knows he will be, despite the strenuous task ahead of them both. “But we’ve got to get it done.”

The lack of crackling behind them signals that the charcoal is ready for the incense to be added. Mountain gets up to do so, and Aether sinks back into the calmness of the greenhouse atmosphere. A tiny square of light falls on his knuckles as he shifts on the cushion; he can feel the slight difference in heat move across his skin as he dips his hand in and out of the fractal. Zeroing into the moment, the calm before the storm. 

Before long, fragrant curls of smoke fill the space; tendrils of orange peel and lemongrass, jasmine and the tiniest hint of vanilla. And of course, the verbena tying them all together. All scents to help set the intention for cleansing and re-centering. 

“Ready?” Mountain asks, returning to sit behind him.

“Now or never, I guess,” Aether laughs tiredly.

The earth ghoul sets the bottle of oil next to them; a slightly amber liquid with sprigs of eucalyptus and buds of juniper berry suspended within it. His own blend, of course. He fills the well of his palm with the oil, rubbing in steady, counterclockwise circles as he warms it. Aether doesn’t have to see his face to know it’s firm with concentration, eyes closed and lips moving with unspoken words. Setting intentions before even touching the oil to his skin. 

Eventually, his hands make their way to his head, and the massage begins. Mountain rubs the oil into his scalp, starting at the very top between his horns, working his fingertips down to the crown, the occipital bone, and the nape of his neck. The way he works the oil is like following the pattern of rain down the stem of a flower, manipulating the tension—and the negative energy that goes along with it—towards the ground. 

It would be easy to lose himself in the sensation, if it weren’t for the emotional and physical force it takes to drain this pent-up byproduct of quintessence use. It sits deep down in the muscle, harboring pain. The longer it sits, the more effort will be required to siphon it back out again. Extraction rituals are usually painful, and in rare cases, near incapacitating. 

Swiss and Mountain, and on occasion, Omega, see to it that it never reaches that point.

“Breathe,” the earth ghoul whispers, shifting up onto his knees. The pressure comes on his exhale, bearable but targeted. Mountain digs into the tightness at the base of his neck, twin points on either side of his spine that hold until the muscle begins to release. Aether hisses through his teeth. 

“Bit more . . .'' Mountain sighs along with him when he feels things shift, however slight. His hands move further away from his spine, and he digs into another spot, working his way down the slope of his traps. Push and breathe, constrict and release. Mountain continues until he’s reached the curve of his shoulders, pausing to drip more oil into his palms. 

Doing alright? The lilt of Infernal on his tongue is warm, comforting.

Yes, Aether replies softly. He’s beginning to ache, but it’ll only get harsher from here. 

Mountain hums. Think loose, he whispers, aiming for levity. 

Aether chuckles and shakes out his shoulders. Wish that was all I had to do.

Then you wouldn’t get my hands all over your oily body.

You are making it sound far more pleasurable than it actually is, love. 

“Touché.” 

Aether snorts at the purposeful break from their native tongue. Come on, start jabbing me with your knobby drummer’s hands. The sigh Mountain gives is equivalent to a verbal eyeroll, and he places his hands, renewed with warm oil, back on the quintessence ghouls’ shoulders. 

I promise you a warm bath and a full night of cuddles for the impending torture. 

It’s silent as they focus on the task at hand—well, apart from the pained groans from Aether and the occasional grunt from Mountain. It’s hard work, plain and simple. A never ending cycle of heal, absorb, expel; a cycle that inherently relies on others. Quintessence is a funny thing, though, in that it will build up from disuse, too. It will beg with its weight sitting on the bones of one’s vessel to be used, to flow. The holder of the magick will have to eventually release the excess, essentially wasting it, dumping it out of an overflowing bucket. 

In that sense, Aether would much rather endure the pain of sharing, if it means connection over isolation. It’s a principle he clutches as tight as possible when Mountain’s hands start feeling like knives along his shoulders and down his back, when all he wants to do is sob and scream fuck your strong hands straight back to Hell.

𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✿

[gffa]

There's no way this isn't meant to be extremely explicitly clear, right?

That it's very much meant to be an extremely explicit parallel to the prequels' Jedi's situation? Because I'm not used to Star Wars tie in novels necessarily being coherent with themes and part of me is still kind of boggled that this is the fifth or sixth time I've run across a conversation that, were you to basically give it a palette swap (change the names of characters/planets/enemies etc.) you could have plucked it from a novel set during the prequels' Clone Wars... and that it's basically having the discussion about how there's really no right answer, only that the Jedi can the single choice that's in front of them directly. There's a lot going on in the scene that's influencing the way the characters are behaving--Cohmac is being written as increasingly unsure of himself and unsteady, and I know he's going to leave the Jedi Order at some point, and you can see it in the way the war against the Nihil has been unbalancing him, as well as Starlight Beacon is falling/about to fall and they're trying to decide what to do, what can they do, this is their family, their friends, their home that's being attacked by the Nihil, but there's nothing they can do that those Jedi aren't already doing, panicking about it is just giving in to fear, so instead:

And it's hard not to see the parallel to Order 66. To see the parallel between how Starlight Beacon was always going to be attacked, because the Jedi stood for justice and helping people who were being attacked and the Jedi Temple being attacked by the Sith because they would have fought back against an Empire oppressing people, because the Jedi stood for justice. It's hard not to see this as the High Republic Jedi being put in almost the exact same circumstances as the prequels Jedi, a situation with no real "right" answer, only "fight or innocent people will die, even as it crushes part of your own soul to be embroiled in a non-stop war", there's no easy or good answer here, there's no neat and pat way out of it, there's no hidden perfect path you could find if only you did this or that. It's hard not to read these books and feel like the High Republic Jedi (whom the creators have designed to be the Bestest Jedi Evar) are providing me everything I could have asked for (and have been saying for the last seven years) on why the Jedi joined the awful Clone Wars, not because it was right or good or perfect, but because it was the best choice they had, given the circumstances, to save people's lives. The Jedi are often accused of not evolving with a changing galaxy, but that's the thing--they did evolve to what the galaxy asked of them. The Separatists were bombing civilian populations, they were unleashing bio-chemical warfare on worlds, they were enslaving populations. The Jedi didn't want to fight a war, but when innocent lives were on the line (and they very much were), when they were the best choice to lead an army because their goal would be to save as many lives as possible, they chose to evolve into what the galaxy needed from them, while keeping as much of themselves intact as they could. They still went on meditative retreats, they still wore their own clothes, they still lived in their home, they still taught their philosophy to anyone who wanted to learn it, they still kept their compassion for people, they still made friends wherever they went... and the High Republic Jedi made the exact same choices. Because the galaxy had changed around them, it wasn't the one they knew from before, and they did their best to match what it needed from them, even when it made them become something that weighed on their souls.

[karmavongrim]

Love Spell fanfic idea

DP x DC fanfiction idea named "Love Spell" that I have been mulling over the past couple of weeks.

Klarion x Danny shipping (Chaotic Spirits) story, because why not and it would be fun to write about the chaos these two could cause.

Took some inspiration from this, this, bit of this and this.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny really didn’t know whatever he should laugh, cry or flip the nearest table he could get his hands on. He never really thought highly of the Justice League to begin with, hell, you would be hard-pressed to find anybody in Amity Park who did nowadays.

But this… this could just as well take the metaphorical cake of bullshit that has been piling up over the past three years.

He took a deep, measured breath before focusing back on his boyfriend. His sweet, lovable, very-much-chaotic-immortal-man-child of a boyfriend.

“...They think I’m what now?”

On the other side of this conversation sat Klarion, the witch boy extraordinaire, who was combing his slender fingers delicately through his precious familiar’s fur as he watches his beloved having a hard time grasping at the situation. And since he thought of himself to be a rather fantastic boyfriend, he repeated what he said.

“The League of Simpletons have somehow gotten in their heads that I must have enthralled you in one way or another in order to get my hands on some ultimate power, as part of my apparently evil master plan.”

Danny took another breath, this was just getting ridiculous. But then again what else was new, these people really knew how to make a mountains out of a molehills. Even Wes didn’t have this severe of an apophenia, he at least ended up being right more often than not.

“So they think you’ve put me under a love spell or something?”

Klarion merely shrugged in mock-helplessness. “Apparently you wouldn’t be dating me otherwise.” In all honesty he probably shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he currently is, but he couldn’t help himself.

His ever present smirk widened when his beloved Starlight’s face twitched in irritation. “For Ancient’s sake… seriously?” A simple nod was enough for Danny to want to throw the next Justice Idiot who was stupid enough to come close to Amity Park’s boarders through the nearest window!

Calm down Danny, calm down. Just remember Jazz’s breathing exercise. One… two… three…

…

Wait a minute… would that mean- no way in hell way they’ve been…

“Wait a minute- Is that the fucking reason why they’ve constantly been ruining our dates these past few months!?”

Another nod.

Yeah, fuck being calm and shit, ya boy is absolutely livid! All this time they were doing it on fucking purpose!! He so is going to burn all of their ugly ass capes and dye all their ugly ass costumes pink! Better yet, he’ll paint their entire HQ with the most obnoxious and clashing colours possible.

Klarion let the halfa rage about for a good moment before interjecting. It wouldn’t do to have the lounge destroyed, especially when that energy could be used on something else he has in mind.

“We could have fun with this you know, at their expense.”

Danny stopped in his track and turned his inquiry gaze towards Klarion. He knows that smile and it could only mean trouble, trouble which he was more than willing to partake in. A smirk of his own began to grace his lips. “What do you have in mind exactly?”

Once again Klarion was reminded why he’s dating this gorgeous creature in the first place. Trust him to be able to match his chaotic nature despite his hero persona.

“Oh you are going to love it, my dear.”

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi author its me again! Its been a while since I requested something. Could you do a ror x gojo fem reader?

If you are familiar to the scene where Gojo mock the course by saying "No worries after all you are weak." And then reveal her beautiful eyes and defeat her enemy.

Can I have the ror characters reactions?

Gods

Thor

Loki

Buddha

Rudra

Shiva

Aphrodite

Hercules

Beelzebub

Odin (platonic)

Zeus (platonic)

Hades

Poseidon

Zerofuku

Hermes

Ares

Brunhilde

Humans

Lu Bu

Chen Gong

Tesla

Kojiro

Adam and Eve (platonic)

Qin Shuang

Jack

Raiden

Thats all you may pick whoever you want! Take care author!

Hello darling, I did my best with this! This series is relatively new for me so I did what I could for a Gojo reader.

-You were known for being rather a gremlin around Valhalla, being laid back, not taking anything seriously, which gave you several people who were mad at you.

-Almost always smiling, carefree in nature, you were easy to get along with when you weren’t pissing people off.

-However, there was something about you, many could sense it, but some chose not to believe it, that you were way stronger than you were letting on. They could sense a power within you, something that made you very dangerous.

-When Ragnarok was announced, you were all for a good fight, a bright smile on your face, ready for a challenge, really wanting to let loose, sense it had been years since you had gotten that chance to go wild.

-You were quickly disappointed however, when you chose to fight first, to open the tournament with a bang! You were paired against Chernabog, a massive deity of evil and destruction.

-Chernabog wanted nothing to do with the tournament and had to be dragged out by other gods, all who were blown head over heels, easily defeated.

-You scowled lightly as you approached, and Zeus shouted, “Idiot, what makes you think you can handle him?!”

-You smirked up at him, reaching up to pull your blindfold off, “No worries Zeusy~ after all, you all are weak!”

-Instead of being furious with your arrogance, many were instantly stunned as you whole face was revealed, your eyes were like looking at the cloud filled blue sky and starlight mixed together, they were beautiful!

-You crossed your fingers and in only a moment, Chernabog was dead, torn to pieces and you were up on the wall to the stadium, like you had teleported, a slightly bored look on your face, “Man, I was hoping to show off~”

-Had no idea you were that powerful- they knew you were powerful, that’s a given, but to see how easily you took care of one of the oldest and strongest gods out there in only a moment, it was very humbling. To you, it was more than a moment, as you and Chernabog went into your Domain Expansion where you teased him for being caught so easily and when he tried to attack, you attacked, but to everyone else, it was only seconds. They were quickly way more curious about you than before, wondering how truly powerful you actually were and wondering why you hid such beauty- you were stunning, why hide it?

            -Zeus, Odin, Hermes, Shiva, Jack, Brunnhilde, and Aphrodite

-Was stunned stiff by your power, seeing how quickly you handled business, and you made it look easy! You won your match in only seconds, not even breaking a sweat and you were complaining that you didn’t get to show off! How powerful were you?! He wanted to find out, he wanted to test his own combat strength against your own, feeling antsy for a fight!

            -Thor, Lu Bu, Raiden, Hercules, Ares, Beelzebub, Kojiro, and Rudra

-That was amazing!! You were so fast and handled Chernabog so quickly! How did you do that?! And was curious why you always wore a blindfold when you were so pretty, not understanding why you were hiding such beauty.

            -Chen Gong, Zerofuku, Adam, and Eve

-You were so stunningly beautiful, how on earth did he not realize you were so beautiful?! He knew you were strong, that’s a given, and you were a pain in the ass when you wanted to be, but your skills could back your arrogance up. Seeing your power on full display was rather intimidating but also humbling, you were a human, but your power could handle anyone in Valhalla, gods or humans. He was a bit more curious about why you hid your beauty, wanting to seek you out to demand an answer, such perfection should never be hidden!

-Loki, Buddha, Hades, Poseidon, Nikola, and Qin Shi Huang

[fairly-linked]

Nightmares ✨ (Time x GN!Reader)

Whew, okay. I feel like everyone needs a break from the dark ass yandere shit (especially after that Twilight one, my god)

So here! Have some fluffly shit instead! ✨✨✨✨

Enjoy!✨

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Darkness.

That was all he could make out, other than laughter in the distance. It was pitch black, to a point that Time could hardly see the outline of his hand in front of his face no matter how close he held it; but somehow, he could tell by the whispering of the wind in the trees that he was in a forest.

The laughter he hears is not a voice he recognizes. At least, he thinks it's not. But he isn't too sure. It almost sounds like...

A very familiar scream sends a freezing chill down his spine. One that sounds just like you...

His heart drops into his stomach and it suddenly becomes hard to breathe. This laughter from the other person, twisted and maniacal...

Was that Zelda's voice...?

As panic and confusion begin to course through him, he rushes to the source, fighting away stray branches and bushes and stumbling over his own feet a couple times.

He reaches a clearing, one with water nearby. He can hear the water of a stream, although he can't see it; but what he can just barely make out is two figures against a tree.

That voice has to be you. It has to be. There's no one else it could be...

...And the height of the other person matches Zelda's. As he catches a glimpse of her crown and the blade in her hand glittering in the starlight, it confirms his suspicions.

"Zelda? What is happening here?" he questions, trying to mask the fear in his voice as he speaks to the woman he once thought was an ally and trusted friend.

He'd better not have to choose between you two, but if it's necessary...

...He determines then and there that his choice would be you, in any scenario.

"They're a problem, Link," Zelda states with disgust bleeding through her voice, pressing the blade against (Y/n)'s neck.

"Zelda, hang on. Tell me what's going on," he demands, trying to hide his anxiety and confusion. He unsheathes his sword, should the princess make any sudden moves.

But he's so confused...

...The princess was normally so levelheaded, so calm. As far as he knew, she'd never even met (Y/n); but before, he'd had no doubts that Zelda would adore them.

(Y/n) was a wonderful person. He and the princess had the same senses when it came to telling a good person from bad...

...Or at least, he thought they did, which is why he couldn't wrap his head around her motives.

"...They're a distraction for you, Link. For you and every one of your little apprentices..." she hums condescendingly, pressing the blade more. (Y/n) lets out a hiss, and even with as dark as it is right now, he knows Zelda's hurting them.

"Zelda, enough! Step back, and let's talk about this."

Zelda pauses. She doesn't move, but he just barely catches the glint in her eyes as she glances at him.

"...There's nothing to talk about, Link."

Zelda draws the sword upward, preparing to strike. Sheer terror courses through his entire being as he lurches forward, screaming as he reaches for (Y/n), who reaches back for him in their final moments.

"No!!!"---

Time jolts violently as if he'd hit the ground. Scrambling to sit up and take in his surroundings, his heartbeat begins to slow as he realizes he's back at camp. All the other boys are asleep, with the exception of Sky, who'd taken watch.

Time places a hand to his chest, bowing his head as he tries to steady his heart rate and return to the present.

Goddammit, another nightmare... It was all just some horrible nightmare....

Sky frowns, walking up to him slowly.

"Are you okay?" the meek hero says softly, concern in his gaze as he stands next to Time.

The old man, still breathless, nods as he looks up at the younger hero.

"I... I am alright. Simply a nightmare..."

...Time says nothing more on the subject.

Sensing that the old man didn't want to talk about it, Sky nods. Time looks down, sighing in relief as he sees you lying next to him and beginning to stir. He places his hand on your head, rubbing your forehead gently with his thumb.

"...Time?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes.

"Shh, I'm here, dear. Sorry for waking you."

"...Are you okay? I felt you tossing and turning..." you say so sweetly the old man thinks he might melt.

...Had it been so bad that he was rolling over in his sleep? He sighs a little.

"I am alright, my love. I'm here. Everything is okay..."

You pat the spot on the ground next to him, urging him to lie back down with you. He obliges, his body still exhausted from broken sleep; but he's slightly confused when he sees you scoot upward, to where his head lies by your shoulder.

You let out a yawn, opening your arm for him to come closer and rest on you. His eyebrows raise in surprise; but he doesn't deny you your wish.

He moves closer, allowing his head to rest on your chest. Your arm on the side he's lying on comes up to cradle his head, your hand stroking his hair, while the other holds his hand.

He rests one of his arms over your waist, and for the first time in a long while, he allows himself to relax against you, sighing contentedly as your hand in his hair causes him to feel like drifting off again.

This... feels nice. Now he knows why you love it so much when he does it...

It isn't long at all before sleep overtakes him again. In his half-asleep state, he hears you mumble a soft "Sweet dreams".

The last thing he feels before he drifts off to sleep in the warmth of your embrace is your lips on his forehead.

[jaelaxies]

𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞

fluff; wc: 1 k.

Beomgyu x fem reader!; flower shop au! ; good sugary flower shower fluff; tw:none.

Song recommendation:  Starlight — Taeyeon ft Dean (why)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･

An old beige cardigan met a golden bomber jacket one day, who would’ve thought what could become of that fateful reunion?

Monday. First day of the weekend and without a second hand helping out here, it would also be the loneliest, but ever since Choi Beomgyu started working here part time; the flower shop has been feeling livelier and brighter than usual. It’s a no brainer why he is the favorite to some customers: he can bring a smile to everyone’s faces with a simple joke or even just by greeting you with his big smile; he really is like a blooming flower. I also enjoy his company: his shy but ambitious curiosity is quite the charm and on rainy days like this one, where you crave warmth and some fun…Here he is.

—Careful…— He said, as he placed a cup of freshly brewed tea in front of me. He preferred an expresso but he still made me some tea every single time as he placed his own beverage in front of him. — It’s still hot.

—Thanks, Beom. — It was normal for me to use nicknames on him, but I could never get enough of his expression every time I used one of them: his rose-tinted cheeks and cheeky smile, like he had just won the biggest award. He looked straight out of romance book. — How is your expresso today?

—Oh…— He looked at the cup and then rested his chin on his hand, like it was nothing. A slight hint of red still adorning the nape of his neck that got exposed when he moved— I decided to give tea a shot today… I wanted to taste it for myself before making this one for you.

—It’s delicious! — I said while carefully taking a sip, my chest was feeling funny… like someone was tickling me and I didn’t hate the feeling at all. It was just new. — You did this for…me?

—Why else would I do it?

This time he took a sip of his own cup and smiled for a second, shaking his head and making his chocolate locks move freely to cover some space of his neck and the white button up he had as a uniform. I could feel the small spark of something growing inside of my chest, but for now, all I did was smile with sealed lips and hummed in agreement. Not noticing the adoring stare he gifted me as he analyzed my now, strawberry colored cheeks.

Tuesdays were slow but fun; it was also days were Beomgyu would ask me to teach him the meaning of each flower we had and even in his free time, I found him taking little notes of what he had just learned. Because customer frenzy was in no show today, we could close thirty minutes earlier and work on arrangement requests from customers; he didn’t have to, but Beomgyu participated with a lot of enthusiasm, it energized me too. His little questions or his pout when something didn’t feel right for him, made the experience so much fun. Shoulder to shoulder we worked on arrangements trough the night; sometimes our hands would grace each other, fingers ghosting each other skin and we would just let it happen, ignoring how strong our hands desired to hold each other.

When grabbing a rose, he almost prickled his finger so I backed away and rummaged trough my purse, looking for my band aids; when I made sure every single finger was out of danger, he had pastel colored rings in all of his hands and we both let out a chuckle at how strange yet cool it looked; modeling like they were rings, I was almost crying at his antics but this time, he grabbed my hand carefully and put one of the pink colored band aids that matched with his, on one of my fingers; saying I also needed to be out of danger; still holding my hand, he gifted me a big smile with crinkled eyes that only carried joy in them… but how could I explain to him that once I felt his touch, I never wanted to let him go?

On that Thursday I finally gave in. I let my heart take over as we played some old songs to lift up the mood because we were jam packed with orders; to relieve some stress it was Beomgyu’ s idea to dance to the beat as we wanted to; I didn’t expect to be engulfed in his arms as he sweetly sang to me in my ear and we swayed to the music up until the point it was no longer necessary, because it only mattered that we were closer than ever, so much that I could hear his breathy laugh out of his chest and feel his warmth touch on my own collarbones as he wrapped his arms around me like a blanket and the echoing music became just a tune out of our own bubble.

Friday came in.

When I came into the store, the lights were out and there was no sight of him anywhere; just when I was about to lock everything, I noticed the faint dim light of the storage room creeping out on one of the edges of the door. I reached for the handle with a different type of adrenaline rushing trough my veins; when the door creaked open, Beomgyu turned around so fast I could only catch a glimpse of his notes all over the place and the flower arrangement he was working on.

—Wait, wait, wait! — He said while trying to hide it even though I was already smiling from ear to ear, so this is what he had been working on for hours long. It was a beautiful rose arrangement with red tulips, white camellias and baby’s breath to complete it all. — It’s not finished yet! It needs some touches here…

I didn’t let him finish, I threw myself in his embrace; wrapping my arms around his neck; he was quickly to catch me and hold my waist with ease, surprised by my sudden reaction he just stood there with a shy grin. — You sure fit perfectly in my arms.

—There’s no place I’d rather be, Gyu. — I locked my gaze with his until I felt him starting to come closer and closer and when our lips sealed a pact that was foretold since the beginning, I let myself be consumed by his sweet and caring kiss; now, these lips would be called my own and his arms became my own home. As he softly pecked my lips for the last time tonight; I made I promise with destiny to never let go of someone like Choi Beomgyu, ever.  

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･

Hello everyone!! (❁´◡`❁)

I'm back and with one of my favorite au's !! how i love a good flower shop fluffy au😭🤍

And this was one like made specially in mind for Beomgyu.. i had to ok he just fit perfectly in the story and also i really wanted to write again for him, it's pretty fun and i adore my boys so much

As always, feedback is really appreciated and I’ll love if you could reblog or comment if your really liked this one!

With love, *°࿐Stella🤍

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:

[violettduchess]

Perhaps I could request Silvio x Leyla + Colours of Sunrise? >:)

A/N: Here you go @lorei-writes! Thank you for your support of Leyla from the beginning!

This fic is a continuation of the Leyla x Silvio part of these OC Kiss Headcanons (I'll repost their part below)

An entry for my and Lorei's Sunshine and Starlight CC

WC: 2.6k

From the Headcanons:

The overcast sky matches the expression on Silvio’s face. He watches as the last of the crates are loaded onto Siren’s Call. Leyla’s ship. The one getting ready to leave the royal Benitoite port. “That’s the last one, Captain.” First Mate Kai clamps a large, reassuring hand on Leyla’s shoulder and she nods at him. He inclines his head towards Silvio, a begrudging sign of respect, before heading onto the gangway. The silence between Silvio and Leyla hangs as heavy as the gray clouds above. “I don’t get why you gotta go. You know I could–” Leyla cuts him off with a sharp shake of her head, her gold hoop earrings swaying with the movement. “I won’t be a kept woman. You know that.” She sighs heavily, brushing aside several wayward strands of hair that the wind has plucked free of her dark braid. Silvio’s fingers ache at the sight. He curls his hands into fists, fighting the burning need to touch her. “Besides,” she continues, “It’s not that long. Just a few months.” Her words are hollow with forced optimism. Silvio looks down at his boots, jaw clenched. “Fuck.” His voice is ragged. “Captain!” Kai’s deep baritone calls from the ship. “The tide!” “I know!” she barks back, her own voice scraped raw with emotion. Trying to ignore the vice squeezing her heart, she turns to Silvio. He lifts his head and in his eyes she sees all the words his mouth can’t form, all the storm clouds churning in his heart. At the same time they stumble towards each other. The kiss is messy and desperate, tinted with anger and sharp with longing. It’s Leyla who pulls away first, afraid she won’t be able to take a step towards her ship if she holds him a moment longer. “Good-bye.” He doesn’t answer. He can’t. He only watches as distance shrinks her figure, taking her away from him, with her kiss still lingering on his aching lips.

Colors of Sunrise: Red

Silvio leans on the ship’s railing, closing his eyes, the ones that match the color of the sea he is sailing swiftly across. The wind whips at his pale hair, makes a musical tinkling of his gold jewelry. It’s too dangerous, they had said. The storms around Ammolite are swallowing ships left and right. But Silvio had scoured Benitoite from end to end until he found a captain whose fear could be bought by enough gold coins. And so despite the danger, he is making his way ever closer. Even now as the sun begins its slow descent, it feels as if the ship is flying across the ocean…and still it doesn’t feel fast enough.

He is not a patient man. His ringed fingers grip the wood hard enough that his knuckles blanche. His muscles are tensed, energy coiled within him like a champagne cork that may pop at any moment. He breathes in deeply, the smell of salt water powerful and comforting. Every second that passes is another step closer, every gust of wind into the billowing white sails above presses the ship forward on its journey. Closer to seeing her again. 

She may not appreciate his rash decision. Their last real conversation, before the heart wrenching good-bye at the royal docks, was held under a sky streaked with the first rays of dawn, on the balcony off his royal bedroom. Gripping the balcony much like he is now, she had told him that she would write him when she was finished with her business on the tropical island of Ammolite. When he had demanded to know how long it would take, she had dropped her gaze, a pained expression on her face. “I don’t know. Months, probably.”

Not wanting to hear another word, he had pulled her into his arms and silenced her with his mouth, dragged her willingly back to his bed and kept her there, desperate to fill every last possible minute with the sound of her voice, the feel of her skin.

And then she had gone, leaving him pacing the palace like a wild dog, frenzied with longing, mad with missing her. Weeks went by without word, and those weeks grew into agonizing months until one day, the answer hit him, plain as day.

She may be tied to a single place for a while. But he wasn’t.

He would make sure he wasn’t.

And that revelation has lead him to this moment in time, right now, to the railing of a ship known for its reckless crew, greedy captain and record-breaking speed, rushing across the turbulent sea to find her.

Leyla tries hard to concentrate as the guild leader drones on, his monotone voice lulling her brain into stagnancy and she finds herself desperately wanting to close her eyes and sleep. She shifts in the wooden chair, wondering how the others are still awake. Kai’s eyes are heavy-lidded and one of the shipwrights has literally slumped down in his chair, chin touching his chest. If only her ship hadn’t been so damaged. Siren’s Call had gotten them to Ammolite but just barely. A wild storm had raked its claws across her hull, sunk its teeth into her sails and damaged her so badly that weeks of repair were needed. And that particular storm had only heralded the beginning of the stormy season. Leyla had hoped to leave the tropical island before the season really began in earnest but it seems fate had had different plans. 

“And unless there is any other further business–” Thank fuck, he’s finally done.

Leyla leaps up from her seat. “Nope, that all sounded great. The guild is doing a fantastic job. Nothing more to discuss today. See ya.” She yanks Kai by his massive arm, jerking him awake and pulls him out of the meeting room, through the double doors of the government building and into the fading light of evening.

“My God, he loves the sound of his own voice.”

The main street market is slowly winding down. Vendors are closing their stands, bundling up their wares. In the distance, the local pub’s doors swing open as it welcomes its first visitors. 

Her First Mate glances at the sky as they sidestep a man carrying a large basket of oranges on his head.

“He blathers on but his guild is doing a good job with the ship.”

They pause as they reach the beginning of the docks. Siren’s Call has been repaired enough to be in the water. The shipwrights have left for the day but Leyla’s keen eye spots where they have finished their work on the hull and what is still left to do on the mizzen mast.

Kai nods his bald head towards The Gray Gull which sits cozily at the edge of the docks. “You comin’ for a pint?” 

Leyla sighs. “Not tonight.” Her voice sounds soft and blue, a sad wind trailing its fingers listlessly across the water. Kai places a large hand on her shoulder, comfortingly.

“We’ll be able to leave soon, Captain.” 

“I know. I just….” She shifts her weight from one booted foot to the other. “I just really want to get back to–” She stops herself, clearing her throat. “Back to business as usual.”

Kai smiles knowingly, dark brown eyes amused. “Is that what we’re callin’ him now? Business?”

She shoots him a Look, pale blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Oh shut it, you big sea slug.”

His baritone laugh barrels out of him like the deep clang of a gong. “Aye Aye, Captain.” He pats her shoulder once more before taking his leave.

His absence makes her aware of the ache in her chest, the one that she has been fighting ever since she left Benitoite all those months ago. It's a dim throbbing that hammers its way into her dreams, filling them with Silvio. Nightly, she sees his blue eyes and silvery hair. His slow, arrogant grin and sharp cheekbones that flush shockingly fast. His long fingers, bedecked in gold, and surprisingly coarse palms. 

People rush past her as another ship in the distance comes into view, heading for the harbor. It's likely looking for permission to dock. The commotion of readying a spot for the ship is enough to pull her out of her gloom.

Again she glances at her ship at the western end of the dock. She’ll sleep in her cabin tonight. Maybe being surrounded by the things that comfort her will help keep the sharp sting of her longing at bay.

Colors of Sunrise: Orange 

Silvio leaves the captain gleefully clutching his bags of coin, more coin than he has ever seen at once, his long legs taking him down the gangplank and onto the docks. Her ship is there, at the far end. Just the sight of it sends his heart thundering. He notices several shipwrights, wrapping their tools up carefully, tying down their workstations for the night. So her ship was damaged…..

He frowns, noticing the still damaged mizzen mast. Is she ok?

Turning, he hurries as fast as he can without running, towards the small town center. The markets are slowly closing down as sunset’s prologue begins, a darkening sky, a cooler wind. He ducks past a man carrying an enormous empty basket on his head and catches the scent of oranges before heading straight for the local boarding house.

Inside, he finds a woman with dark curls wrapped up in a colorful orange turban behind the desk. She welcomes him with a warm smile, her observant eyes immediately noticing his rich clothing, his fine jewelry. 

"Welcome, traveler. May I offer you-"

“I ain’t lookin’ for a room. I’m lookin’ for a woman.”

The proprietor raises her thick browns. “This isn’t that kind of establishment, Sir. You need to head to the other end of town for that kind of pleasure.”

“No…no that’s not…” Leyla is so close, he can feel it in his blood, the way it’s rushing through him like untamed rapids. He just has to find her. “The captain. Of the ship at the end of the docks. A woman with black hair and eyes kinda like the sky."

She shakes her head. “No, Sir. She hasn’t been in tonight. You could try The Gray Gull. I believe she often takes a drink with her crew in the evening.”

The woman’s face breaks into a warm smile, fondness glowing in her round cheeks. “Captain Quinn?”

Just her name has him leaning forward, gripping the edge of the counter, nodding eagerly as his gold earring sways in the warm lamplight.  “Where can I find her? She here?”

Silvio reaches into his vest pocket and pulls out another small bag of coins, dropping it with a thud onto the counter.

“Thanks for the help.”

He leaves the boarding house and its wide-eyed proprietor behind, determination pushing him along the dusty street, towards the tavern.

The sun is stretching its artistic muscles, streaking the darkening sky with bold reds and glowing oranges. It paints the underside of the clouds pink and outlines them in shimmering apricot. The cool wind tugs on the strands of her black hair playfully, as if enjoying the fact that she has released it from the prison of her tight braid. The armor of her daily clothing, the stiff jacket and leather pants, has been replaced by the soft, white linen of her nightgown, the luxurious midnight blue velvet and silver of her robe. Absently she runs her fingers over the sleeve, remembering when Silvio presented it to her, nearly throwing it at her in his hurry to be done with the embarrassingly sweet gesture of giving her a present, for no reason other than she once commented how cold it could get in her cabin at night. The deep blue reminds her of the Benitoite sea in the earliest hours of the morning, mysterious and beautiful, dark and inviting. 

She misses him. Her fingers curl into the velvet and her eyes close. She misses him so much and it hurts. Now, alone on her wounded ship, underneath a sky exploding with color, she allows the feeling to wash over her, giving the beast full reign of her thoughts. It tramples across the tender plains of her heart, its bellowing echoing in her mind. Not a day has gone by that she hasn’t thought of him, hasn’t tried to remember the feel of his kiss, the smell of his cologne, the strength of his arms as they pull her close. She even misses his snark, the flustered fluttering of his eyelashes, the hollow sound of his bark that contains no bite, not for her.

A hard lump forms in the back of her throat, a burning tangle of her yearning and regret and desire. Almost angrily she knuckles at her eyes, wiping away tears that have yet to fall.

All this fuss….just because she hasn’t seen him in a few months. 

Inside her chains rattle as she readies herself to capture the beast of her longing and conquer it, to hide it away in the shadows of her heart as she usually does. There’s no use in allowing it to continue its rampage. 

What good are tears? They won’t bring Silvio here.

Sighing, she squares her shoulders and turns from the ship’s railing.

Colors of Sunrise: Yellow

The tavern doors are flung open with a bang. Silvio barges in, scanning the room, his heart clamoring with impatience. It’s smokey inside and lit only by greasy orange oil lamps. Could she be–

“She’s on the ship.” A deep voice from behind has the prince jerking away and spinning around like a marionette in the hands of a startled puppeteer. Immediately he recognizes Kai. The large man raises a heavy tankard of ale to his lips and jerks his head towards the doors. His gold hoop earring glints in the warm light. “Go on then, yer Highness. Get outta here.”

The fact that the First Mate isn’t the least surprised to see him doesn’t even register until much later.

Silvio nods once and hurries out of the tavern, practically running as he heads towards the docks. The heels of his boots thud with every frenzied step across the wooden boards, battling with the sound of the waves as he rushes towards Siren’s Call. 

He’s close enough now to see a figure standing at her railings and his breath catches in his lungs.

She turns, and in that moment, the thought of watching her turn away, of watching her leave him, yet again, sends panic through his veins, like lightning cleaving his heart in half with its merciless heat.

Her name is torn from his throat, lobbed in despair towards her even as his legs bring him closer. 

“LEYLA!”

She freezes at the sound of her name as it cuts through the air, striking her heart like a flaming arrow. 

Could it be….

“Leyla!!”

Again her name.

And she knows that voice.

Spinning back around she sees him rushing towards the ship, his blue cloak with its Dalmatian trim fluttering behind him like a wild phantom. 

In an instant she is flying towards the gangplank, bare feet barely touching the ground. Down the incline she soars, her heart hammering a riotous concert in her chest. 

She’s on the dock now, tearing towards him as he bolts towards her, two hurricanes in motion. 

And then they crash into one another, a tangle of arms and lips and grasping hands. 

He’s here, her heart sings, he’s really here. 

She pushes her fingers into the pale radiance of his hair, curls them into its soft strands. He holds her in arms, crushes her against him like a vice as he kisses her over and over and over and over, a drowning man finally given air. She meets him, stroke for stroke, gasping as she drinks her fill, as the cool taste of his mouth soothes the scorched earth of his absence. 

Above them the sky is golden, the sun’s final masterpiece before it sinks to its rest.

Colors of Sunrise: Pink

“The sun’s coming up.”

Her voice is rough, hoarse with the evidence of last night’s pleasures. Behind her, Silvio buries his face into the dark waves of her hair, tightening his embrace. He never wants to get up, never wants to leave the comfort of her bed, the cocoon of her ship’s cabin. He never ever wants to let her go. His only vocal reply is a grunt which somehow makes Leyla laugh.

She shifts, maneuvering herself around within the circle of his arms. His eyes are closed but she knows he is awake. Leaning forward, she presses a chaste kiss to his chin, a cool raindrop of a kiss in comparison to last night’s storm.

“C’mon, sea pup, let’s go look at the sunrise. I feel like stretching my legs a bit.”

The Prince of Benitoite scowls as she wiggles away from his embrace. He jerks his head to move his hair out of his face as he pushes himself up in the bed. He leans back on his palms, watching with a mix of admiration, lust and regret as she finds her discarded nightgown on the carpet and pulls it over her bare body.

“I thought I stretched ‘em enough last night.”

She laughs, loudly and brightly, no false modesty here. Tying her velvet robe tightly around her middle, she leans down, catching his chin in her fingers and kisses him hard, murmuring, “That you did and maybe, if you come along without anymore growling, you’ll get a chance to do it again.”

He needs no more encouragement.

Now, they stand together at the ship’s railing, arms wrapped around each other’s waists as they watch the sun’s yellow rays caress the morning sky into blushing prettily in soft pinks and corals. 

Leyla sighs, leaning into Silvio’s body, reveling in the feel of him.

“I know I said it before but I still can’t believe you’re here." She shakes her head, watching the undulation of the water. "Fucking hell, Silvio, it was such a damn risky thing to do.”

His hand at her waist clenches.

“I knew I’d make it. Besides, missing you was takin’ up all the room in my head. I had to come before it drove me nuts.”

She grins slowly. “I guess I missed you too.”

His eyes flash as he looks down at her. “Whaddya mean...you guess?!”

She shrugs nonchalantly, enjoying the way indignation and annoyance are waging war with his desire to keep holding her. “I mean...you know.... if I think about it….you may have crossed my mind. Like, once or twice.”

"Why you......" Without warning, he scoops her up into his arms. “You’re in so much trouble, sea witch.” He marches back in the direction of her cabin, her delighted laughter ringing through the air, a compliment to the bright colors of a tropical sunrise.

Tagging: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage

@redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey

@mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @myonlyjknight @ikesimpleton

@ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @cellophanediamond @whatever-fanfics @justpeachyteastea

@chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating @portrait-ninja

@starlitmanor-network @sh0jun @queen-dahlia @themysticalbeing @nightghoul381

@whitelittlebunny @chi-the-idiot @bubblexly @ozalysss @keithsandwich @ikeprinces-stuff @bestbryn

[sakkiichi]

BETTER THAN REVENGE.

you and your ex ended on bad terms. you want revenge. your annoying best friend might be the answer.

ft. Childe x gn! reader.

cw/genre: romance, fake dating, friends to lovers, mild angst, fluff, modern/college au, very brief mention of alcohol consumption.

word count: 2.6k.

i dreamt about this idea months ago, and i thought my first genshin crush’s birthday would be a good day to write it hehe. happy birthday ajax <3

What did you ever see in that asshole, you will never know.

You hate him. Of that, you are certain.

You really tried to put effort into your relationship, made time for him, prioritized him.

It seemed to always go unreturned.

And that much is made clear tonight, the sight of him making out with someone else at this party you don’t even know why you decided to attend, being the last straw.

“We’re done, you jerk.” Are the words you spat at him, throwing the remnants of your drink at your now ex-boyfriend.

You regret it now. Having wasted half a drink, that is.

The music blasting through the speakers is soon replaced by crickets chirping and the night wind ruffling through the trees. You spare a glance at the moon above. Full, its rays seemingly lighting up a liquid silver trail leading to you.

“Leaving so soon?” A familiar, and, might you add, annoying at times, voice questions.

Well, at least it’s better than hearing your ex, you muse to yourself, as you turn around to face your friend.

His ocean blue eyes glimmer in the summer starlight rain, matching the color of his baby blue t-shirt.

A smile makes it to your face. You always loved to steal that one when you had sleepovers.

“Nothing gold can stay, am I right, Ajax?” You retort, a mirthless grin plastered on your moonlit features.

Your friend takes a few steps forward, coming to stand next to you, shoulder playfully bumping against yours.

“I’d rather you stayed, though.” He says, a melancholy smile tugging at his lips.

You close your eyes, a sigh escaping you into the night.

“Let’s just say… I’ve had enough for tonight.” You mutter, exhaustion beginning to catch up to you.

“Anything happen?” Childe asks, ginger strands swaying around his face in the warm zephyr.

You bark a dry laugh, yet all you feel running through your veins is boiling anger.

“Well, I saw that asshole kissing someone else.” You cross your arms over your chest. “So I made it clear we’re done. I also wasted half my drink on that shithead when I spilled it on his face.” You tilt your head to the side. “Pity, that cocktail was much more worth it than him.” You add, matter of factly.

Ajax chuckles. He always liked your unapologetic remarks.

“You really did that?” He laughs. It’s nice, sincere. Then: “He didn’t deserve you anyway.”

“Eh, probably not.” You shrug. “I just really want to piss him off now.”

“Oh?” Your friend’s usually dull marine eyes light up in amusement. “Any ideas?”

“Huh, not yet…” You ponder, worrying your thumbnail between your teeth.

Childe levels his gaze with yours, that impish grin meaning he was up to no good not unlike the edge of the moon above.

“Date me.” He smirks, just like that.

And at that moment, you’re too aware of the heat rising to your cheeks, of the wild pounding of your heart against your ribcage, of the constellations of freckles dotting the bridge of Ajax’s nose. “You know, just as show, to spite him.”

And perhaps it’s the sweet intoxication of your half drunk cocktail, or the way a lake of stardust seems reflected in his eyes, but you find your pinky linked with his before you have half the mind to back off.

“Deal.”

—

On hindsight, perhaps you were impulsive.

Was it really a good idea to involve your best friend in this game of spite?

Readjusting your bag on your shoulder, you walk to your first period class.

Students, some more sleepy than others mill around campus, a collage of headphones on, hands busy on screens and chit chat filling the early morning air.

“Morning, babe.” Are the first words directed at you today, followed by a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Ajax…” You whisper-shout, frowning, face warming up. “You know you just need to pretend.”

“I’m very aware of that.” He whispers, lips brushing the shell of your ear, as his voice lowers a little more. “He’s looking, sweetheart.”

Despite your quickened heartbeat, a devilish grin makes it to your features, arms wrapping around your best friend temporarily turned “boyfriend”.

“Ajax!” You coo, sweetly. “I had missed you so much! Ah! How am I going to endure six hours of class without seeing you?”

The redhead embraces you, arms tightening around your waist, dangerously close to your hipbones. His face buries in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into you, lovingly.

“Good, he just stormed off.” He murmurs, giving your waist a reassuring squeeze.

You smile brightly, luminous eyes meeting his crinkled up ones.

His hand slides into yours, pressing it reassuringly, before you two part, promising to meet afterwards.

Oddly enough, when you sit at the back of the seminar, six hours feel like an eternity.

But, like all things, your classes come to an end, eventually.

Mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you leave the building.

It’s weird, this sensation, though.

You’ve been close with Childe for years, you’ve hugged countless times, slept at each other’s place just as many.

So, why now? Why did you feel all jittery and giddy at his subtle touches just earlier?

Perhaps you’re still shaken from your breakup, as much as you can’t stand your ex.

“Hey there, pretty.”

You look up from your phone to be met with the colors of oceans and sunrises, Ajax’s grinning face centimeters away from yours.

“Childe.” You bluntly greet him. It’s unfair how the early evening sun kisses his skin just right, the light dusting of freckles over his nose and cheeks reminding you of the stars that soon will start decorating the sky. You clear your throat, then:

“You know we just need to look like we’re dating, right? I thought I’d made myself clear.” You don’t know if your statement is more directed at him or at yourself.

“I know,” the ginger smiles, falling in step by your side. “But we need to make it look convincing, don’t we?” He winks, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“You’re insufferable, as always.” You grumble.

And yet, despite no one really being around at the moment, you make no effort to push the man away. And you definitely don’t complain when he switches to your other side, hand lingering on the small of your back, so that you take the innermost half of the sidewalk, away from the cars.

If someone were to ask, however, no, you certainly are not leaning into Ajax’s comforting hold.

—

A few more weeks go by, with most of your free time spent with your “fake boyfriend.”

And as much as you’ve always cherished him, despite his, at times, obnoxious nature, you certainly are confused right now.

What is it you feel for him? You like these newfound moments of shared tenderness between the two, so much that you wish they weren’t fabricated sometimes… What would it be like to love someone truly? To have someone love you?

What do his lips taste like? You wonder, as you have a few more sips of your iced peach juice.

You shake your head. No, you definitely did not think that. Must be the heat, messing with your head, surely.

However, willing fantasy or not, it turns out fate had indeed planned for you to indulge in your cravings.

The door of the establishment opens, the small bell above it signaling the entrance of another customer.

“[Y/n?]” Ajax calls, from the sit across you.

You tilt your head to the side, your redhead friend’s eyes focused on something behind you.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

“What?” You almost shout, the sound dying down to a whisper the moment his thumb brushes over your lower lip.

“Do you trust me?” He smirks.

“Yes, but-“

“You said yes.” Are Childe’s words before leaning in.

To say he was a good kisser would be an understatement.

His lips on yours feel like a roaring ocean, notes of spearmint and sunshine contained in the secret message in a bottle the waves of him carry. Ajax’s calloused hands cup your jaw, ruddy locks of hair tickling you when he angles his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

You wish this was real.

But would it really be a crime to play your part right now?

Your fingers tangle in his tangerine hued strands, slightly tugging at them as you bring him closer to you.

You don’t care if this is swimming against the current, if you did drown right now, you would go happy.

But because he’d be damned before he let you drown, your best friend pulls away, allowing air back into your lungs.

That’s the very best goddamn kiss you’ve ever been given.

But, alas, sometimes you think “stupid” should be Ajax’s middle name.

When you glance his way, he keeps looking at something beyond you, that shit eating smirk plastered on the lips you want to kiss again.

When you spare a peek over your shoulder, you spot him. Your ex, sitting with some girl, his face ashen as he looks in your direction.

So that’s all this was.

You should have figured, you chide yourself as you fiddle with the straw of your juice.

If you had payed attention, however, you would have noticed a pair of starry blue eyes not leaving you.

—

And after that arrives the day you realize you are screwed.

This was all just supposed to be a make believe charade, not you actually falling for your friend.

Because you can’t deny it anymore; whatever it is Ajax is to you now, it goes way past platonic.

You can’t let these feelings be known. Ever.

But how are you supposed to ignore all of his sweet gestures? His tender touches when holding your hand; the way he remembers your favorite ice cream, smoothie and coffee orders; how he brings you lunch when he ends up cooking too much for his siblings; or the way not only are you stealing his t-shirts on nights you fall asleep at each other’s rooms, but how he now drapes his hoodie over your shoulders, the night breeze uncharacteristically chilly for this time of year.

And that kiss. That goddamn kiss.

And perhaps your last breakup scarred you more than you let on; or maybe you love Ajax too much to keep up this lie with him. But before you can think twice, the words are out of your lips, glacial shards of a broken dream on a midsummer’s night:

“Ajax? Let’s stop doing this.”

Those eyes of his that sparkled in sapphire hues dim again at your statement.

He searches for your gaze, but you won’t look at him.

“Why? Something wrong?” Childe tries for his usual carefree tone, but you know better; the hurt and strained fear in the words he doesn’t speak are clear as day to you.

“Yes! I mean no! I mean…” You sigh. “I don’t think it makes sense anymore.”

In reality, what doesn’t make sense is pretending this relationship of yours is just for show. But you can’t let him know that.

“Got cold feet?” Your friend, or whatever he is now, asks, oceanic gaze glazed over, not a single star reflected in it when he stares skyward.

‘If only you could know’. Is the sentence you don’t let out through bitten lips.

Instead you offer:

“I don’t think this makes sense anymore.” Unconsciously, you adjust his hoodie a little tighter around your figure. “I just- I think I’ve gotten the revenge I wanted. I… I don’t know, I just want to hang out with you again, but honestly, not like this, not for an audience…”

You stop walking, standing a few paces before him.

“We don’t have to do any of this for the public, you know.” Your friend, crush, partner in crime? assures, shortening the distance between you with his long strides.

“But we do.” You sadly whisper, averting your eyes to the side. You can feel wetness pooling on them. Great, just what you needed. “I… I don’t want more fabricated romantic moments, I’ve had enough of love that was never anything to begin with before.” You humorlessly add. “I just, I want the next time I kiss someone or hold their hand… I want it to be real, for it to mean something… and I can’t keep stealing moments like these from you either, Childe.”

Salty droplets start to dye the grey pavement as you keep your eyes glued to it. Everything feels so complicated, so messy…

“I know this was your idea but… I can’t keep-“

“What makes you think it wasn’t real?” Familiar calloused fingers caress your cheeks, gathering the starless wetness sliding down them. “What makes you think you were stealing these moments from me?” Strong arms envelop you, akin to the early morning rays dancing over gentle waves lapping at the seashore. “It was my idea, right? You said it yourself. Why do you think that was?”

“I don’t know!” You sob into his chest. “I guess you were looking for fun, or you wanted to help me…” You wonder, voice a breath away from becoming fragments of a shattered snowglobe.

Ajax chuckles, soft. His hold on you tightens a little. Then:

“You know, sometimes you can be so dumb, [Y/n].” He utters, tone devoid of his usual teasing. “It was my plan, on that you are right.” His hands rest on your shoulders, as he pulls away to look at you. “But I guess now would be a good time to tell you why.” He shifts his weight on his feet, an unusual dusting of pink creeping up his neck caught by the streetlights. “Truth is, I was scared to, well, ask you out normally, I was scared of you saying no. When you started dating him, I hated him, but I hated myself more, for not having been able to prevent it. You looked unhappy.” He shoves his hands in his pants’ pockets. “So I don’t know, I figured maybe if we pretended, we’d keep it up for a while, or maybe if I was lucky, you’d really fall for me… kinda dense, right?”

You sniff, a smile tugging at your lips despite your cries.

“Yeah, definitely stupid.” You laugh softly, through the tears. “But effective.” You admit, glossy eyes searching for the molten northern stars in his stare.

“Wait, so you actually fell-?”

“Ajax. Kiss me. For real this time.” You plead, clutching the front of his baby blue t-shirt, urging him closer to you.

“What makes you think it wasn’t for real the first time?” He smirks, as his lips link with yours for the second time.

Your arms loop around his neck, his hands digging on the flesh of your lower waist, his palms a searing wave under your shirt. Childe’s kiss tastes of fireworks reflected over a still ocean, the quiet of the minutes before midnight in stark contradiction to the wild drumming of your infatuated heart. You stand on your tiptoes, desperately meeting his tidal wave at its zenith, the caress of the blossoming moon above and Ajax’s tongue swiping over your swollen lips sending shivers down your spine.

The clock strikes twelve, and a beeping sound interrupts the reverie.

Grumbling, you fish your phone out of your borrowed jacket’s pocket.

“00:00

Thursday, July 20th.

Ajax’s bday !! <3”

Your lit up screen reads.

You both let out a chuckle.

“Hey, Childe?” You call him. “Make a wish.”

“I don’t need to.” Constellations are reflected in his azure gaze, lovestruck with images of you dancing amongst them, the smile on his face dopey and entranced.

“Let me give you another present, then.” You tell him, pulling him close again. “Happy birthday, Ajax.” You breathe, as his hands hook under your thighs and your lips crash together again, no onlookers but the moon and stars this time.

[dcawritings]

In which Sun likes to bully you a little and he’s kinda into it. ☀️

“Oh, what vision! I think this is the best thing I’ve seen you make aaaaaall day!”

The words are bright and chipper, but they don’t match with the motions as the animatronic takes your carefully-crafted paper pal and shoves it into the shredder built into the work bench. Why is that there? Why did he do that? Why…?

You try not to let the rejection get the better of your senses. It’s been an hour at least, and that was the only one that Sun offered any praise over—every previous project was met with all the distain of a diva that saw every little flaw in even your most genuine attempts. It… bothered you a little. More than a little, actually, though you hoped that the tears could be blinked away faster than Sun could notice them in the corners of your eyes.

“Oooh, what’s that look on your face for?”

Fuck.

You shake your head and turn to look towards one of the craft supply cabinets, hoping that you could rub the tears away with a conveniently-timed cough to excuse bringing your wrist up towards your face.

“N-nothing,” you finally say, a lie right through your teeth. “I’m just f-fine…”

Sun crosses his arms. Though his expression is static, you can practically feel the lift of an eyebrow; he obviously doesn’t believe your answer.

“It’s against the rules to liiieeee~” he says singsongingly, as if finding amusement in your attempts. “Go on and tell your good ol’ friend Sun what’s wrong now huh?”

You are silent.

“Don’t be shy, tell me!”

More silence.

Sun makes a low noise, then takes a quick step forward and reaches his hand out faster than you can dodge. He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.

“Tell me now.”

Your lips tremble, and tears begin to well up in your eyes—his voice is low and commanding, dropped like a rock over a cliffside. You know that Sun would never hurt you, you trust him and Moon too much, but you can’t deny that his abrasiveness is a lot to handle right now. Tears begin to roll down your cheeks and a sob hiccups in the back of your throat.

“Wh-why are y-you being s-s-so mean to me-meee?”

You’re shocked that anyone could understand you, but Sun practically coos as if he is soothing a child after scraping their knee on the daycare floor.

“You’re so cute when you cry like that,” he purrs, but sympathy does begin to fill his gaze after a moment. He brushes away a few tears with his thumbs. “But don’t cry now, no need for tears on such a pretty little face! You haven’t broken any rules!”

“B-but you r-ripped up my p-p-paper pal…?”

“Oh little star, did it bother you that much?”

You nod, then feel your lips tremble and face fill with heat at the answer that spills out. “It’s b-because I made it for yuh-y-you….” Fresh tears roll down your cheek, and Sun’s thumbs are quick to wipe them away with a surprising sense of tenderness.

His expression is unreadable (as always), but you could swear that something changes a little with your words—maybe it’s the subtle warmth in Sun’s tone, exhaustion leaking into his shrill act of a voice.

“…let’s take a little itty-bitty break from craft time,” he finally says, his hands still cupping your face, faceplate tilting in a way that you’d call sympathetic. “Something else?”

You nod fervently.

“Nap time?”

A shake of your head—not because you were afraid of seeing Moon, but simply because you’re not tired.

Sun hums, then says, “Would you like me to read you a little storybook? You’d like that, wouldn’t ya?”

After a moment, you gently bounce your chin against his hands in a nod. Sun giggles, giving you barely a moment to react before he reaches over the workbench and wraps his arms around you.

“Perfect! Let’s find a quiet little spot—so no more crying, starlight, I’ll dry those little tears right up!

[sasha199]

Gale/ Rolan Drama Part 12

Read all of me on A03

Mayhem and Madness

Okay BIG trigger warning for smut, like a lot of it. Fem Tav, human.

Y’all…this game hits different when your Tav is a stand in for yourself.

My sister and I are playing a multiplayer as ourselves, as sisters. I (Sasha) was romancing both Gale and Wyll. Sister (Marlie) is pulling both Astarion and Shadowheart

After a few hours of sleep I stir from my bedroll to go find Gale. I smile to see him waiting for me outside of his tent. As I draw near it's clear that he is illuminated by some sort of arcane light, also he doesn't appear to be breathing.

I approach stealthily, trying my best not to wake anyone, but when the Gale-like figure gives me a small wave, I halt in my tracks. It certainly looks like Gale, it's wearing the robe I purchased for him, it's got his bracers equipped, and the chain-link headband he's worn since the Githyanki creche is centered perfectly on his forehead. 

Then it speaks, "Good evening!" it exclaims cheerfully, there's an odd distortion around it's voice, as if two or three people are speaking simultaneously. "I am here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep..."

"Shhhhh! Keep it down, please!" I glance around, but there's no movement from the other tents. 

"He wishes," it continues in more of a whisper, "to extend you an invitation for a private conversation in a more suitable locale."

"So, just to confirm," I whisper back, "you're not actually Gale? What are you then?"

"A mere projection of Gale." It's stopped whispering despite my shushing motions, "I am a reconstituted version of his appearance, voice and...personality." It gives me a saucy wink, "Would you care to join him?"

"Yes, of course yes," Every moment that passes I become more sure that Marlie is watching from somewhere. The sooner I get out of here the better, "Where is he?"

"Simply follow yonder path and soon you will find him," it gestures vaguely to the east side of camp. 

"Gods I hope so," I say to myself. It would be so very me to get lost in a situation like this. Thankfully, Gale's footprints are clear and easy to read as I make my way out of camp and towards a large clearing to the north. As the trees open up to a grassy knoll I can see a light ahead. My confusion increases as it becomes clear this light is not a fire or a candle. It is emanating from the sky itself. Soon I see Gale, seated in the clearing. He's looking up, arms moving in graceful precise arcs. 

As I step out from the trees, he lets his arms fall, though the light remains. I can see the anticipation on his face, the barely restrained smile, and I'm happy I came. I take a seat next to him in the grass, and turn towards the heavens to admire his handy work. 

"I love this time of night," he says softly.

My face goes slack with wonder as I take in the enormity of what he's crafted in the sky. A gorgeous shifting symphony of blues and purples alights the heavens, graced with a sprinkling of stars. It's the aurora borealis. 

I just stare, captivated by the patterns of light and color, “...the most beautiful of fantasies." I am drawn out of my reverie by the soft tone of his voice. He’s looking at me, not the sky. The starlight is reflected in his eyes. I'm aching for him to touch me.

"It's - it's -" apparently I've lost my executive brain function. "I'm sorry," I say laughing at myself, "I'm overwhelmed. I've always wanted to see the Northern Lights. You did that?"

"Indeed," he sounds proud, "the curse is still present of course. Just beyond this veneer, held at arms length. Not a trick I can repeat often, but tonight? Tonight is different."

"Why?" A cold feeling of dread drapes over me. I try to ignore it but unbidden thoughts rise all the same.

Are we back here again?

"This may be my last night alive," he continues, "I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder..." He smiles at me, his eyes narrowing with mischief, sparkling with desire, "...and with company to match."

"How can you say that?" I refuse to be caught up in the moment, not when he speaks of his own death so casually. 

He takes my hand. I want to be spiteful, to pull away. How dare he. After all we've been through? He can just look me in the eyes and give voice to these terrible truths? 

"None of us are guaranteed time, Sasha. Not with the perils we are facing. The tadpoles, the Absolute, this Shadow Curse. Any of us could succumb to these dangers. No use pretending otherwise." 

I say nothing, he continues. "I thought this place, being under this sky with you, might bring me a sense of peace. I thought it might make the weight of what I must do, the responsibility I have been charged with, seem a little smaller. But now..." his face falls, he looks down at our hands, "now I am not so sure."

"I am." My voice is steal, hard, determined. "I've never been so sure. I refuse to believe this is the end." My grip on him is as intense as my voice. "We will find another way. I promise."

"Thank you, but.."

"No!" my voice cracks, and my throat starts to hurt, I swallow hard. "This will not be your fate, Gale. Fuck fate. Fuck the gods, and fuck...fuck it all." I'm fighting to keep the anger from spilling out of my eyes. 

He smiles at my flailing ferocity, my pitiful defiance. "Darling, there is no point running from the inevitable. Better to meet it, to face it, on my own terms."

"Nothing is inevitable, do you hear me? Not when we face it together. You are not alone, Gale. You don't have to die." My vision blurs, and a tear falls onto my wrist, it burns a little. The sky and the world around me become a watercolor scene of purples and blues. The only clear thing is Gale. 

He takes my wet face in his hands, I grip his wrists, desperate for him, desperate for him to see what I clearly know. 

This cannot be the end for us. 

"One night with you," his warms lips gently brush over my forehead, "could sate me for a life time."

"I don't want just one night."

He kisses my cheek, my ear, I cling to him, I breathe deep and dab at one eye with my palm. It stings. 

He murmurs into my neck "Whatever my fate, please know that you're sending me to meet it with a full heart, free from fear." His voice is heavy with sorrow, with sincerity. It’s killing me. "I'm so very glad you came, to share this with me."

I touch his face, feeling the smoothness of his skin, the rough contrast of his beard. I slip my hand into his hair, the brown and silver strands ease though my fingers, shining in the starlight. I trace the firm line of his jaw, his pulse throbs beneath my thumb, quickens as he takes a breath. 

"This must all seem unreal, but I created it for you."

“For me..?”

"You must know that you're..." My fingertips feel the groove in his neck, just above where the orb scars begin to deepen, "you're very special to me." 

I chew my bottom lip. My stomach is in knots. I tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. His earing glints at me. 

He puts his large hand over mine, stopping my progression at the top of his chest. There's a slight sting as his fingers brush over two red scratches. For a moment I freeze, my thoughts flash. I turn my head as if to shy away from it. But I can't.

"Gale." I hear myself say. I feel as if I'm slowly drifting away from myself, the world getting smaller and smaller as I soar off into the heavens, into the sky that Gale made for me. "Something happened today."

"Happened?"

"I- I kissed Rolan."

"You - who?" 

"Doesn't matter," I say quickly, "Something strange happened when I was trying to use the Weave and-"

"You kissed someone...?"

"Yes." I hate myself. I'm ruining everything.

"Well." His body language changes, he lets go of me and moves slightly, out of my reach. "I suppose," he says, after a moment, "you're not exactly beholden to me but I thought..." He ducks his head to meet my eye, and the intensity I see there scares me. "You told me... you said you chose me."

"Yes, I did." 

"Then what-"

"I'm telling you about this because I meant it, I choose you. Even now, with you going on about how death is waiting for you, how this is your fate, your tragic destiny. I- I couldn't sit here under this perfect sky and not tell you, because I want you, Gale. I've always wanted you, from the moment I slapped your hand in that stupid portal, and for more than just one night."

His eyes are large and round and sad. I feel like time has stopped. I can see us sitting together on this grassy knoll, merely inches from each other. My face is tear-streaked and desperate, Gale's is heart wrenchingly vulnerable.

"I'm in love with you." I hear myself say the words and it's like something inside me breaks. 

The moment stretches. My heart is pounding against my ribs, threatening to burst free. I kind of wish it would. Then suddenly he gives a small laugh. My stomach clenches. I feel sick as I look down at my lap. I swore to myself so long ago that I would never tell him, that I would never burden him with the depth of my feelings. I thought I was protecting him. But I see now, at the precipice, that I was just trying to stop myself from breaking my own heart. I've failed. 

I wrap my arms around myself. If I could I would sink into the earth. 

"What a relief," he finally says. I glance at him, afraid of what I'll see, but his gaze is...open. It's still soft but different, he looks lighter. Like a great weight has fallen away from him. “I was so afraid I was just making as ass of myself." He gently tucks back a curl that has fallen in my face "I'm hurt, that you felt the need to test the depths of your feelings, but to hear those words from your lips...I cannot pretend to be anything other than elated."

I laugh too then, and lean over to kiss him. I taste the salt on his lips from my tears, feel the tingling burn of the acidity.

”You must know,” He says when we break apart, “I am not a man who shares. Call me greedy, stubborn or old fashioned, but I cannot change who I am, or how I love. If you are mine, then you are mine alone.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have you any other way.” I'm pretty sure I'm crying again.

He stands up and I feel a little bereft, "I hope that wasn't a parting kiss." I sound childish, sulky.

"Not if I have any say in the matter," he chortles, pulling me to my feet. His smile is broad, like he can't hold it back. He kisses my forehead again and I nuzzle into him, wrapping my arms around his chest. "I want it to be perfect," he continues, "to bond with you in the way that gods do...intertwining our spirits in visions of the weave." 

"Um," that sounds a little intimidating to me, I'm not even sure what it means. "I don't really need illusions. You're here, standing right in front of me." I stand on tip toe to trail kisses along his neck, "And you already taste divine."

He tangles his hands in my curls, holds my head against his chest, but his voice is hesitant, "Are you sure? I can conjure up any sight that you could dream of, and a few you could not. I could use the Weave to make us feel sensations beyond reckoning..."

I sigh, "I don't think I trust the Weave."

He tilts my face up and touches my nose with his, "Then trust me. Let me do more than woo you. Let me wow you."

I chuckle into his mouth. "Alright. Wow me."

Gale's velvet voice paints a scene of his idyllic tower in Waterdeep; complete with a piano that plays on it's own and a sunset view of the infamous harbor.

It's been so long since I've seen it. I can almost smell the salty air and hear the wind whip the sails of the docked ships.

The day I'd enrolled in New Olamn, stepping off a boat fresh from Neverwinter to begin my training as a bard, I'd been so afraid but so full of hope. To think the tower I'd seen every day on the horizon had been Gale's. We'd been so close to each other. Perhaps I'd passed him in the street while shopping at the markets, or breezed through one of his classes on a tour of Blackstaff. We would've been entirely different people, such a strange thought.

I feel practically giddy as I take in the rows and rows of books lining the walls as he walks me through the interior. They're scattered on every surface. I settle into a comfortable alcove on his balcony and I pick the nearest one to flip through it. I feel my face go crimson as I take in the images, and look up to see Gale watching me, amused. "I see you've found the Art of the Night."

"Leave it you to seduce someone with a book," I turn it around to show him the page that I'm on, my eyebrows raised questioningly at the elaborate image of two people contorted in love making. "That rebellious streak of yours is admirable."

"Allow me to live dangerously while I still can," he smiles and settles next to me. I love when he teases me, I see a younger more optimistic version of him shining through in this moment. It's who he was before the orb, maybe even before Mystra, back when he might've been just Gale, and not Gale of Waterdeep. It tickles me to see it, to experience it.

I love him. 

"...the art of the body. The exploration and acceptance of the self and the other. I say we take a page from their book. What do you say?"

"Huh?" I snap back to the present, " Sorry...I was distracted by...by your face." I sound so dim witted, my cheeks are pink again. 

He puts his arm around me, pulls me into him, "Come here." As he kisses me I can hear his voice, like he's speaking to me through the tadpole connection, but somehow it's different, it's emanating from everywhere. "Why confine ourselves to the pleasures of mortal flesh? It is but one stitch in a vast tapestry."

I open my eyes to see everything is glowing. The tower around us is gone and it looks like we're in Gale's sky, surrounded by it. An endless cosmos that stretches infinitely. I hold my hand up to my face and I can see Gale through it. He's glowing too. Suddenly a memory rips through me, like a spike to the mind. A flash of bodies entwined, a faint whiff of rose water. Hearts pounding and breath quick with passion. I feel the pressure of something curled tightly against my leg. 

I blink and we're back in the clearing, back to the grassy knoll. Gale is standing next to me, holding my hand. "The old ways then. If that is what you wish, so be it." 

I swallow, moving hesitantly in the direction he gestures. Did he see? Does he know?

"Gale..?"

He makes a precise motion with his arm, "A small gesture towards you comfort."

I fall back, feeling a bed materialize beneath me. I'm already soaked. 

I pull him on down onto me, I need to feel him. I practically rip his shirt in my haste to unlace it, he chuckles pulling it over his head, but there is nothing funny about my desperation. He slots between my open thighs perfectly, our breaths mingle as we kiss and kiss again. He cups my breasts, slipping my leather top up to bear them. He looks at me, his eyes trace my body hungrily. "Beautiful." 

I smile at him and push his hair off his face. His hands rove down, tickling over my ribs to my waist. I tug on his earlobe with my teeth, reaching to shove his pants down. "Not yet, darling," he murmurs slipping his hands beneath the waist band of my trousers, "soon."

“Now," I whine as he pushes me back onto the bed, his large hand in the center of my chest, holding me down. His lips close around a nipple and heat shoots through my center,  "Gale, I can't wait anymore." I writhe under his ministrations, he's stroking me over my clothes. His fingers brushing against my clit over and over. 

"Interesting," he murmurs, leaving a hot wet trail with his tongue over my breast, "no panties?"

"No, never…” My voice shoots up an octave as he nibbles at my rib cage.

I push up against his hand to sit up, to look at him. 

"Naughty." The muscles in his arm tighten as he leans in, keeping me on my back. I wriggle with pleasure as he peppers my lower belly with kisses, his beard tickles me and my hips buck impatiently. He removes his hand to slide off my trousers and I use the opportunity to leap forward, I pull his face to mine for a deep kiss. 

"My love," he groans into my mouth, "my sweet love." His hand gently grazes the strip of hair that coats my womanhood. "Let me kiss you, darling." I let go of his face and watch as he takes my nipple into his mouth again. 

I wrap my fingers in his hair, "I can feel that..." I murmur. I don't know what I'm saying, I'm obviously beyond coherent thought. He moves to my other nipple and I moan as he slips a finger inside me. He swirls it slowly, feeling my walls. I toss my head back at the sensation, I'm gushing for him. Thank the gods this is not a real bed, I'm about to ruin it. 

When he puts his mouth on my clit I am trembling. He suckles softly, stroking me with his tongue as he inserts another finger. He hooks my knee over his shoulder and I grip the bed sheets as if I'm about to float away. When his tongue enters me I cry out, desperate for more. He licks the length of me, parting me, his fingers curling up and into me. The warmth is spreading from my core to my toes, to my finger tips…slipping in and out, while he worships me...

Sweet pressure is building behind my navel, I pant with the intensity of it, try to focus on the sensation...and then it snaps, like the taunt string of a bow, catching me off guard with the intensity. Back arched, I release against his mouth, blind with pleasure. He laps at me greedily, moaning into my cunt. I jerk up, away from him instinctively as I collapse back.

He kisses my thighs and I twitch feebly. I'm incoherent, numb with ecstasy as he moves back up and over me. "So lovely," he mutters into my ear. I feel him on my thigh as he lines up to enter me. 

I realize he's naked, "I want to see," I mumble lifting myself. I slide my hand between my thighs, covering myself with my own arousal before I reach for him. He groans as I wrap my fingers around his base, sliding the length of him.

"Shit, Gale." I look down, "Fuck, you're huge."  

He groans, "Stop that, I need to last."

"Why though?" I whisper increasing my speed, "I want to see you shatter, like the spell. Come apart all over me."

Our mouths interlock and he leans his hip into me, pushing gently at my entrance, "I'd rather come inside of you.” 

I guide him into me, he gasps as I bear my hips down and clench around him. "Then fuck me, wizard." 

And he is fucking me. He thrusts deep, angling and working his cock to hit the most tender parts of me. I lift myself up on my elbows, arching my back. He wraps his hands behind my waist and I feel myself rising, flying. He's looking down, watching himself enter me. "Oh, oh Gale! I'm coming!" 

I hate the way I sound, so desperate and needy, but I barely have time to register the words I'm saying before... He captures my mouth in a deep kiss as everything falls away and I'm at the mercy of my own pleasure. Cresting and crashing, I ride each wave as it takes me. I wrap my legs around him, hips grinding in time with his. He is pulsing and filling me.

Finally, Gale falls slack against me, sweaty and spent. He twitches inside me and I mewl in response. 

The weight of him feels so good, so right.

"I love you," his breath is soft and warm. He lifts his head from my chest, those brown precious eyes pierce me. "I'm so in love with you, Sasha."