#distant-lullaby

[distant-lullaby]

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

One day, you comes across the staffbot in the abandoned theater.

There is a fine layer of dust to them, just as there is on everything else in the room. You are hesitant to even walk in, at first. You climb the stares from stage right, approaching with enough time to let them back away if they wanted to. They don't. You come up so you are face to face with them. Though frozen in an empty, static pose, their eyes are dusky, lifeless. You stare for a while. It's odd, seeing your reflection like this.

You take the time to lower their suspended hands to a more relaxed position. You straighten their hat and adjust the front of their vest, dusting off the shoulders. You stand, looking at them for a while.

You don't check as you leave and carefully, noiselessly, close the door behind you, but you know their head turned to follow your silent departure. Both you know it will be a long time before you return. Hopefully, they do not blame you. No one ever likes coming to a silent theater to look upon the long-cold corpse of themselves.

[runawaycarouselhorse]

ねんねんころりよ　おころりよ。

ぼうやはよい子だ　ねんねんしな

[beagleboysinc]

SPEAKING OF character sheets. idk if ive ever posted these of reprise. my refs for her <3 shes my funny mad scientist!! i love her and you love her too ok??

[j-and]

The World's Continuation

A different version

[starsallalight]

@amantesmultorum : Lila & Malcolm

Malcolm had seen ghosts before. The Scottish man often walked through life seeing those he lost in the actions and faces of others. It was unavoidable when one has lived as long as he has. And it was not like Piera’s ghost hadn’t haunted him before. He had seen her ghost in many women that he would pass on the street over the years. But by the 80s, her ghost was something that was a rare occurrence.  Perhaps just a creature to pass on in his dreams now and then, nightmares rarely, and memories. He had painted her quiet a few times over the years. And while, perhaps, she was a frequent muse, even well past her death, she was not the only former love he had put into his artworks.

Perhaps, it was just a trick of his mind. Perhaps he was just tired and was in desperate need of some sleep. But Malcolm could have sworn that he saw her standing in front of his painting. He blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. And she was still there.

He made his way across the gallery floors to the girl who looked like his late former love, when the girl she was talking to walked away. Malcolm walked up to the girl.

“ You look just like her. ”  It was uncanny.

He saw her jump out of her skin, practically. And the Scot immediately felt guilty.  “ I’m sorry. I didnae mean to startle you. I just, you look just like her, the Lady in the painting.”  He clarified pointing to the picture. A gentle smile on his lips. Curiosity flowed through him. He had so many questions.

"So it seems..." Lila sighed, glancing back at the painting. "Like looking in a mirror."

But then, when she turned again and really got the chance to take in his face, it was like any trace of air rushed out in a single instant. It couldn't be, but it was. And everything was simultaneously spinning and freezing.

"You..." She gasped.

This had to be some sort of dream. Some sick cosmic joke. Seeing her very dreams put to canvas was enough to send her reeling. But this? The man from those same dreams standing there, telling her that she looked like the girl in the portrait... Lila wasn't sure if she'd been hit by a bus or if she was ready to faint.

Shaking her head to try and get some sense of grounding, Lila clenched her hands into right little fists at her side.

"Sorry, you... You look very familiar. Have, have we met?"

She already knew the answer. The dreams may have been confusing flashes, like pieces of different puzzles all mixed in together. But the only certainty was him. Him and the love she felt for him.

What the bloody hell was going on here?

[you--cant--run]

Struggling only makes the hugs much tighter.

[kalisbaby]

“From the River to the Sea.” A Poem by Samer Abu Hawwash, translated by Huda Fakhreddine

every street, every house, every room, every window, every balcony, every wall, every stone, every sorrow, every word, every letter, every whisper, every touch, every glance, every kiss, every tree, every spear of grass, every tear, every scream, every air, every hope, every supplication, every secret, every well, every prayer, every song, every ballad, every book, every paper, every color, every ray, every cloud, every rain, every drop of rain, every drip of sweat, every lisp, every stutter, every yamma, mother, every yaba, father, every shadow, every light, every little hand that drew in a little notebook a tree or house or heart or a family of a father, a mother, siblings, and pets, every longing, every possibility, every letter between two lovers that arrived or didn’t arrive, every gasp of love dispersed in the distant clouds, every moment of despair at every turn, every suitcase on top of

every closet, every library, every shelf, every minaret, every rug, every bell toll in every church, every rosary, every holy praise, every arrival, every goodbye, every Good Morning, every Thank God, every ‘ala rasi, my pleasure, every hill ‘an sama’i, leave me alone, every rock, every wave, every grain of sand, every hair-do, every mirror, every glance in every mirror, every cat, every meow, every happy donkey, every sad donkey’s gaze, every pot, every vapor rising from every pot, every scent, every bowl, every school queue, every school shoes, every ring of the bell, every blackboard, every piece of chalk, every school costume, every mabruk ma ijakum, congratulations on the baby, every y ‘awid bi-salamtak, condolences, every ‘ayn al- ḥasud tibla bil-‘ama, may the envious be blinded, every photograph, every person in every photograph, every niyyalak, how lucky, every ishta’nalak, we’ve missed you, every grain of wheat in every bird’s gullet, every lock of hair, every hair knot, every hand, every foot, every football, every finger, every nail, every bicycle, every rider on every bicycle, every turn of air fanning from every bicycle, every bad joke, every mean joke, every laugh, every smile, every curse, every yearning, every fight, every sitti, grandma, every

sidi, grandpa, every meadow, every flower, every tree, every grove, every olive, every orange, every plastic rose covered with dust on an abandoned counter, every portrait of a martyr hanging on a wall since forever, every gravestone, every sura, every verse, every hymn, every ḥajj mabrur wa sa ‘yy mashkur, may your ḥajj and effort be rewarded, every yalla tnam yalla tnam, every lullaby, every red teddy bear on every Valentine’s, every clothesline, every hot skirt, every joyful dress, every torn trousers, every days-spun sweater, every button, every nail, every song, every ballad, every mirror, every peg, every bench, every shelf, every dream, every illusion, every hope, every disappointment, every hand holding another hand, every hand alone, every scattered thought, every beautiful thought, every terrifying thought, every whisper, every touch, every street, every house, every room, every balcony, every eye, every tear, every word, every letter, every name, every voice, every name, every house, every name, every face, every name, every cloud, every name, every rose, every name, every spear of grass, every name, every wave, every grain of sand, every street, every kiss, every image, every eye, every tear, every yamma, every yaba, every name, every name, every name, every name, every name, every name, every name, every name, all…

[softedgessculptures]

When I sing softly, it's like a glove falls over me. A very warm blanket warming the cold to my spine, snuggling me like two arms around my waist bringing me into a tight and warm hug. Singing heals my wounds, I feel my feelings and bad thoughts cloud from the moment I release the first note. I thank God and my parents so much for having my voice so beautiful aways caressing my ears, I'm so grateful. An ordinary human being like me being blessed with so many beautiful things... I feel so grateful. I realize that there is value in me. I want to be able to sing to a romantic partner to sleep one day. Well maybe i'm too stupid or too dreamy

[glimpseofwonderarchive]

@amantesmultorum

"I will love you till the end of time."

[moineauz]

જ⁀ 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 , hsr men !

side comments: i love old jazzy tunes or old songs in general. i usually don't do this kind of fic but i wanted to try something new.

extra: gn reader, fluff, all hsr men except yanqing & misha word count: 434

Other arms reach out to me Other eyes smile tenderly Still in peaceful dreams I see The road leads back to you. 𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐀 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 / Ray Charles

Despite age the two of you bustle about; committing your duties be it work or another passion. Perhaps either of you transverse the cosmos. However, when Twilight's wings gingerly take you under its folds, the two of you melt into one like candle wax dripping down its holder. No matter what path each of you treads- you are bound no matter the state. Thus, under the duvet covers and the unspoken lullabies of the night, he presses kisses on your wrinkled eyes like gemstones while slowly caressing your furrowed hand with a gentleness only matched by the lightness of a feather and the warmth of a beating heart. It is instinctive like blinking, like drawing air into the lungs. Rest now in silence for neither of you needed to say a word, another day will come and nights of blossoming devotion will echo into eternity.

𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐑 . Dan Heng . 𝐃𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎 . 𝐋𝐔𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐀 . Gepard . 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐍 . 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈 . Blade . 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐓 . Sam . + any of your favourites

Just one look at you My heart grew tipsy in me You and you alone Bring out the Gypsy in me I love all the many charms about you Above all, I want my arms about you 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 / Judy Garland

Your limbs might not take you far now, but he'll twirl you in the air like a star and tease you until your cheeks ache from laughter. The glimmer and shine of that first date still trails behind the two of you: stardust in the wind, wings that seldom break. You two still share that hidden kiss in public and search for treasures amongst a sea of rust. Giddy and unfettered, the two of you are like birds spinning in the air; chasing each other in fits of uncontrolled laughter. Blush still brushing against your sagging cheeks and the tipsyness of a night still young, his own heart enthralled as the first time he met you. The throng can stare if they want; asking why not sit down? Would you like some help? That's fine, he'll still banter and pursue adoration as if it's not already tucked in his arms. Because despite his gradually wilting eyes and worn-out knees, he'll still bow down and press his head against your stomach, whispering, "mine."

𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 . Argenti . 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 . 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐎 . 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐀 . Gallager . 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 . + any of your favourites

At last My love has come along My lonely days are over And life is like a song 𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 / Etta James

The two of you have mellowed over the years, lost some hair and found comfort in blue skies, the pit pat of rain and sand between your toes. Perhaps the two of you find a house in the countryside or build a home on a distant planet found in cup boards and the warmth of an oven. Perhaps you settle under the blanket of the universe; allowing your eyes to trace the sun inching down the walls of your shared home. The two of you spend your days lying languidly on the couch, days drifting into melodies spent well and arms entangled as one. He never would've thought that his heart could slow and his soul mellow like a distant breeze. His eyes drifted towards your figure, a pleasant smile reaching his lips.

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 . Welt . Gepard . 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 . Dr. Ratio . 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 . 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆 . Jing Yuan . Luocha . + any of your favourites

masterlist.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

arsonist's lullaby

words: 3.3k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, female receiving oral pregnancy, proposal <3, established relationship, arson, lots of talk about fire lol, camping, mentions of rafes bad childhood

you watch as rafe strikes the match. he prefers it over a lighter, holding it between his finger as the flame inches lower, lower, until it gets too hot and he's tossing it into the fire pit, right on the bushel of kindling that instantly takes light.

rafe looks up at you, the fire sparking in the reflection of his eyes as you make your way towards him. he doesn't have to say a word, the way he sits back in the camping chair, silently telling you to take a seat.

you slide onto his lap, placing yourself sideways with your bum on his thigh. you look at rafe for a minute, just admiring his illuminated features as the orange flame flares up and down with the wind. you listen to the sound of rustling leaves, the distant lapping of waves on the nearby lake.

“are you having fun?” you ask rafe. he may be your boyfriend of two years, but it can still sometimes be hard to tell.

rafe nods, before grinning and leaning forward to press a kiss towards your lips. “i always have fun with you.”

you weren't sure that he would enjoy camping, especially tent camping it, but you always used to go every summer with your parents, and when you asked if he would be down to go, he didn't think twice before saying yes.

“you're sweet.” you giggle, leaning in to press the side of your head against his shoulder, tucking your nose into his neck, inhaling his scent after a long day of relaxing on the beach and taking strolls through the well trodden paths through the woods.

“you're probably the only person alive who would call me sweet.” rafe places his hand on your hip, squeezing it gently. 

it's not that rafe puts on a scary demeanor with everyone else, it's more like that's his natural state and you bring out a side meant just for you.

you kiss his neck, it's not enough, but it's a thank you for his vulnerability, his willingness to please you.

you both sit in comfortable silence, your eyes closed as you recover from the day while rafe stares at the fire, the flames calling to him. he holds you tight to his side as he reaches and tosses another log into the fire, a spit of sparks shooting up.

“who taught you how to build fires?” you ask rafe, looking at the now smashed teepee of sticks he had built up.

“i guess i taught myself.” rafe shrugs. “i always used to build them in the fire pit in the backyard whenever my dad would take sarah to softball practice.

“mmm.” you hum, pressing another kiss to his neck, before moving to his jaw. “we should go into the tent.”

“yeah.” rafe nods, picking you up effortlessly, his pants already beginning to swell just from having your lips on him. he walks quickly to the tent, having to duck down to fit inside, placing you on the inflatable mattress.

you let out a giggle as rafe zips the tent closed before tugging his shirt off, opening your arms up as he sets himself over your body, one hand sneaking beneath your shirt to your waist while his other hand cups your jaw, holding you in place as he kisses you.

“i love you.” you whisper to rafe before picking your shoulders up off the bed, letting him pull your shirt off.

the windows of the tent are zipped mostly shut to protect your privacy from those camping nearby, but you left the top open to just a screen after double checking there was no rain forecasted.

you look up at the stars, your soft moans and rafes low grunts lost to the music of the forest as the wind moves through the trees.

--

“here, baby.” you hand a crumpled up newspaper to rafe. “we need it hot to roast our marshmallows.”

“mhm.” rafe finished building the fire, the embers still slightly warm from your fire last night before he places the newspaper at the center to get the fire going quicker.

“gosh, i can't wait.” you pat your stomach. “it's been so long since ive made s'mores.”

“i don't think ive had them in… ten years.” it may even be more than that. rafe hates the way it makes you pout. his lonely childhood hurts you as much as it hurts him. he fears sometimes even more from your reactions.

“come on.” rafe taps his knee. you really should have just packed one camping chair, it's not like you're sitting on your own as he pulls you into his lap, pressing kisses to your cheeks and jaw as you wait for the fire to grow.

“mmm, the s'mores…” you blink your eyes open, not even realizimg that you've relaxed so completely against rafe that you were almost asleep.

“ill make one for you.” rafe grabs the stick from the nearby table. “how burnt do you like your marshmallow?”

“just a bit.” you smile as rafe rolls his eyes. 

“i like mine burnt.” 

“oh im sooo surprised.” you joke as rafe sticks the marshmallow into the flames, just until it gets gooey before making your smore for you, adding extra chocolate for your sweet tooth.

“so good.” you moan when you take a bite, making rafe shift you slightly on his lap.

you eat s'mores as the moon rises, minutes ticking by until all of your graham crackers are used up.

you let out a yawn, eyes blinking the smoke out of your eyes as the wind momentarily shifts before blowing back in the same direction.

“gonna go put pajamas on.” you press a kiss to rafes forehead before moving to the tent, glad you went for a bigger size with enough room for you to get dressed and undressed. you sigh as you sit down to change your socks before laying back on the bed, not even realizing how exhausted you truly were as sleep takes you.

rafe checks on you after a few minutes, smiling when he realizes you're absolutely fine, just already in a deep sleep. he zips the tent back shut, keeping one eye on it as he goes back to the fire, building it up bigger and bigger as the flames grow, watching with excitement until he runs out of logs to add.

--

rafes fingers twitch. you've been home for two weeks from the camping trip. he wonders when is it an appropriate time to suggest going again. he longs to feel the heat of a blaze against his skin, to feel the ultimate power of building a fire to his will.

“hey.” your soft voice interrupts his thoughts, his face easily shifting from one of intensity to soft love.

“hi baby.” rafe presses his lips against yours in a greeting.

“missed you today.” you hum. you work two days a week at a local animal shelter, mainly just to keep busy and do something to feel accomplished, and they almost always coincide with rafes work, but today was a rare occasion where he was off and you were busy, leaving rafe to roam the house in boredom until you get home.

“missed you more.” he says, placing a hand on your waist to pull you into a more intense kiss, his lips smashing against yours. “how's casper?”

you blink, it takes you a second for your mind to start working after the passionate kiss before the corners of your lips turn down. “still no one wants to adopt him.”

you couldn't believe it at first when the adorable little white puppy came into the shelter, you thought for sure someone would snatch him up instantly, until you saw that he's missing his two hind legs. clearly people in the area don't want to take the initiative to have a dog with only two front legs.

“im sorry.” rafe sighs. he kisses you again, this time soft and comforting. “it's best he waits for the right family though, yeah?”

rafe echos the words you always say when a dog takes a little longer to get adopted. better to wait for a forever family than to wind up back in the shelter after a few weeks.

“yeah.” you nod. “so, what'd you get up to today?”

“nothing.” rafe says honestly. 

“nothing?” you raise your eyebrow. “what are you gonna do when im gone next weekend?”

rafe let's out a curse. he forgot you were going on a girls trip. out of town to some spa that he has the address and phone number, along with any other information he might need to know, typed out in his notes when you first told him about it. just in case.

“shit, i was trying so hard not to think about it that i pushed it out of my mind completely.” he says with a light chuckle, but his face isn't one of happiness. 

you swipe your hand through his hair, combing back the dark blond strands. “maybe we need to get you a hobby. you can build a lego set or do a paint by numbers.”

it's mostly a joke, but you do want rafe to enjoy himself while you're away. you make a mental note to yourself as you go into the kitchen to make dinner to find something to keep his mind occupied while you're separated for the first time for longer than a day since you began dating.

--

rafe looks at your contact on his phone. his finger twitches over the call button, despite you just getting off the phone after talking for an hour, skipping out on drinks with the girls to chat, but you didn't tell rafe that, telling him everyone was in their rooms and that you had plenty of free time to keep him occupied.

he sighs, clicking on your contact picture. you set it at the beginning of your relationship, a kissy face selfie and rafe hasn't changed it since.

“fuck.” he groans, heartbeat starting to rise as a bead of sweat forms on his forehead, anxiety building.

he walks out of the house, no set route in mind. rafe tells himself the walk will clear his head, but what he put in his pocket before leaving says different. he needs to get the feeling out somehow.

he walks and walks until it's dark outside, moving towards the run down side of town until he comes to a small shack, purposely taking mostly abandoned roads. rafe scopes out the area quickly, looking around to see if theres anyone nearby, close enough to see him.

when the coast is clear, rafe lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls the matchbox out of his pocket, a fresh one, having to repurchase after using an entire box camping. 

rafe isn’t sure how easily the place will light up. the shed looks dry and old, and when he looks inside, its empty other than some old long forgotten gardening equipment. rafe strikes a match and sets it on the wooden window sill, watching as it burns out. rafe continues striking the matches and tossing them at the shack as sparks ignite the scraps of wood. 

rafe steps back when he throws the last one, tossing the empty cardboard box into the flames as they slowly take over the structure. rafe smiles, the anxiety that was building up inside him blowing away with the smoke.

the flames eagerly ate up the wood, spreading quickly and before rafe knew it, the already unsturdy roof was collapsing in on itself, sparks adding to the stars in the sky.

he stands for a moment longer, the warm orange glow causing an odd comfort. rafe knows its wrong, but he can’t help that he feels better after setting the fire, walking away as the wood turns to ash, the shack long forgotten and reduced to nothing.

--

rafe paces, strikes a match and lets it burn to his fingertips before blowing it out, paces some more, then pulls out another match. he’s not anxious this time, doesn’t feel the itch to set a place ablaze as he did two nights ago, having to shower three times before he finally got the smell of smoke out of his hair.

now, he’s just impatient. the front door is open, letting in a cool breeze and giving him a view of the driveway as he walks around the foyer, waiting for your car to pull in, for you to finally return home.

rafe blows out a match right when he sees your car turn down the street, his eyes widening as he tosses the matchbox onto the hallway table, stepping out onto the porch, unable to keep himself farther away, moving down the steps as you pull into the driveway.

you barely put the car in park before you’re flying out the door, jumping into rafes arms as he spins you around.

“oh my god, ive missed you so fucking much.” rafes arms are wrapped firmly around your waist, not letting your feet touch the ground as he walks towards the door.

“wait, rafe-” you giggle.

“we can bring your bags in later.” rafe says. he has other priorities.

“no, the car is still on!” rafe sighs and sets you down. you quickly run to pull the keys out of the car and lock it, rushing inside with rafe quick behind you. you toss the keys on the table, noting the matchbox but you're too busy being swept off your feet and carried up the stairs by rafe.

he lays you on the bed, only now pausing to take a minute. you may have only been gone for three nights in total, but it felt like a lifetime to rafe. he leans forward, pressing your lips together before continuing to just stare at you.

“stop looking.” you tug at rafes collar. “do something.”

rafe listens to your command, moving quickly to sink down the bed, tossing the hem of your dress up, not even bothering to take your underwear all the way off, simply sliding them to the side and burying his tongue in your cunt.

 --

“did you see a second shack burned down?” you look up from where you were mindlessly scrolling on social media. 

of course rafe knows. but he certainly isn’t going to just admit that to you. he can’t have you leaving him, he’d probably burn the whole town down if that happened.

“oh really?” rafe says, keeping his voice level, disinterested.

“yeah.” you zoom in closer on the picture, nothing more than a pile of ashes and dust. “damn, i wish i could have seen it on fire.”

the fire department didn’t even get to it until it was completely burned to the ground with how isolated it was. just as rafe planned it.

“really?” his eyebrows raise.

“yeah.” you nod. “i love fire.” you give him a mischievous smile. you surely don’t mean it in the same way as rafe does, but he feels a little more at peace. if you somehow found out, maybe you wouldn’t leave him because of it, or at least hear him out.

“hmm.” rafe just hums.

“we should build a firepit in the backyard.” you mumble the suggestion, but rafe quickly nods. “yes.”

you giggle, setting your phone down to move off the armchair and onto the couch next to rafe. “you wanna keep practicing your fire setup for the next time we go camping?”

rafe smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “maybe.”

--

rafe tosses another log onto the flame, smiling at you as you rock gently in the hammock, set up precariously close to the fire so you can feel its warmth as you relax, the summer coming to an end.

“you look beautiful.” rafe says. the orange light illuminates your features, along with the twinkling fairy lights strung up along the back porch.

you just smile at him. you don’t need words, not anymore.

rafe pokes at the fire with a stick, opening up the center to allow more airflow into the bottom as the flame grows larger, but not too large, never when you’re around. 

“come lay with me.” you open your arms to rafe, who moves with ease onto the hammock next to you, the fabric pushing you both close to each other, glad you opted for the larger size so you could sit together. “i love you, baby.” rafe kisses your head, looking around the yard, at the fire, then up at the stars. “i love this life.”

“i love this life too.” you press your hand to your stomach. there’s a surprise you’ve yet to tell rafe. its only a suspicion, partially confirmed by a stick test, but you want the doctors confirmation to be sure before you tell rafe. you look up at him, tilting your head to the side so you can see his face. “you’re happy?” “yes.” he says honestly. “when im with you, i am.” 

“ill always be with you.” you grip rafes hand. you turned down opportunities for trips with your girlfriends. if they didn’t want rafe to come along, it was a no. you can’t blame them, but you refuse to leave him alone after putting the pieces together.

the first arson could have been a coincidence. but the second, on a night you were also away from rafe? you know its him. it’s why you suggested the fire pit in the backyard. why you won’t force him to spend another night without you, alone and anxious, having to face the demons of his past, his childhood. you know he’s not a bad man, not at heart, not deep inside. 

you turn to rafe, tears brimming in your eyes, overwhelmed with your feelings for him. “i love you so much.”

“baby.” rafe coos, bringing a hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. your hands run all over each others bodies, the moon and fire illuminating you as you work bits of clothes off, just enough for you to sink down onto rafes cock, more grinding together than thrusting at risk of spilling out of the hammock.

“god, you feel so good.” rafe groans, hands gripping your waist as he pushes in before making a miniscule movement back.

“filling me up perfectly.” you undulate your hips. sex with rafe is often wild and intense, but moments like this, where you’re just indulging in each others bodies, relaxing and slow, just like the swinging of the hammock.

“yeah, gonna fill you up real good.” rafe smirks, the corner of his lip twerking up.

the words spill out of you. “i think im pregnant.” you immediately want to take them back when rafes eyes widen.

“rafe-” you lean back, a look of regret on your face, but rafe just pulls you back in, slamming his lips against yours, hips moving faster, hand gripping your ass, pulling you against him as he cums, cock swelling inside of you before releasing.

“if you're not pregnant, im gonna make sure you are.” he gasps out, chest rising and falling, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.

“you’re not worried?” you ask. clearly the couple glasses of wine you had at dinner are giving you a loose tongue. 

“no.” rafe says honestly, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “i would be if this was anyone else. you know…” he swallows thickly. “you know how messed up my childhood was. how hard my dad was on me… i feel like this is a chance to heal that, to treat my kid better than i was ever treated. and i want this with you.”

“i want it too.” you coo, kissing him softly.

“oh, and i guess there’s no better time for this.” rafe chuckles, his softening cock still inside of you, fire dying to just embers as he reaches to his shorts, halfway down his thighs and pulled a small black velvet box out of his pocket, flipping it open with one skilled hand, turning the ring to glint in the orange light.

“will you marry me?”

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[lunarmoves]

"do robots dream?" you ask quietly one day in the gentle darkness of the daycare. the lights are out for naptime, and the air is filled with intermittent soft snores of the toddlers curled up cozily in their blankets.

moon looks over at you from his position squatted atop the security desk—surveilling the kids from the small height. his ruby red eyes alight the air between you in a tender glow. there's a moment of silence after your words, as though he is contemplating his answer.

"no," he eventually rasps out and turns his head back around to the bundles of blankets and pillows he's in charge of. a steady lullaby chimes out from within his chassis and it makes the ambience of the daycare more soothing than it usually is when the lights are on.

you hum and spin yourself idly around on the security desk's chair. "but if you could," you start as you stare up at the ceiling dotted with faint glow-in-the-dark stars, "what would you dream of?"

moon doesn't respond to you for a long time. you listen to his little lullaby and feel sleep brush warmly against your eyelids. it gets to the point where you wonder if he just doesn't feel like answering you—indulging you. not that you'd blame him. and just when you're about to change topics, maybe laugh off your inquisitive questions, he starts to speak in a low, low voice.

"we would dream of the sky," he says as he looks up at the daycare's ceiling. the small lights that dot it are in no way on par with the night sky you have the privilege of seeing every day. something aches in your chest at the distant longing in his gaze. "we would dream of the stars and the moon and the sun. we would dream of the sea. we would dream of an endless field of flowers."

you listen along as he speaks—perhaps airing out something that had been weighing upon him for who-knows-how-long. it makes you ruminate deeply, causes your toes to curl within your shoes and your heart to beat solemnly.

"we would..." he suddenly trails off, and you don't notice when his gaze flicks over to you for a brief moment, too caught up in spinning yourself around and around and around. he makes a soft sound like he's clearing his throat, then says no more. you do not push or press him, your mind lost in thought about a small daycare tucked in a desolate corner of the world. where the robot within looks up at a concrete ceiling and sees nothing beyond it.

we would dream of a house, with us and you, moon thinks but does not say. his eyes close as though he can picture it right before him. we would dream of late nights and early mornings. we would dream of a time where we could be with you and only you.

but that is only a dream, he sighs and reopens his eyes to continue his meticulous scanning of the children. the lullaby continues to chime away.

isn't it?

[beagleboysinc]

would you let reprise run her questionably ethical experiments on you? now I need you to answer honestly ok? ok Ɛ>

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

This Garden You've Grown ⋆˚✿˖° Part Two

A continuation of part one. After your first meeting, The Duke of Meropide could not get you out of his head; so he decided it was time to make you his.

♡ part three ♡

Wriothesley x fem!reader || mutual pining, romance

Eeeeek thank you all so much for your sweet comments about part one ♡ I am thrilled to deliver you a part two ♡ enjoy my darlings ♡

A long, comfortable sigh rumbled from Wriothesley's chest as you carded your fingers through his hair, humming a tune to some distant lullaby while he rested his head on your lap.

Your fingernails felt heavenly on his scalp, almost making his eyes roll back from your soothing touch; he'd never experienced anything like it. There was no better cure for the toll his brutal work day took on his mind and body than this. All of the tension built up in his well-toned muscles released at the mere ghosting of your fingertips over them. Although you both were lying on the ground in the open fields of Fontaine, resting here felt like sleeping on a cloud. He could get lost in this feeling, lost in you.

The world seemed to buzz around the both of you, it's colors soft and the sun's warmth so gentle. You made this place heaven.

His longing gaze was fixated on your eyes; the first part of you he'd come to adore. They were so kind, and so cute. The way they widened when you were surprised or glittered when you're excited, even when they'd get all droopy like a puppy's when you were dissapointed---he couldn't get enough of it. Each expression made him want to pinch your pink cheeks and chuckle. Though, with the way you were looking at him now, he could melt.

He'd never seen this expression on you before; your eyes were half-lidded and amorous, enchanting him as you continued to pet his hair---looking down at him like you wanted something.

You spoke, but your voice was a blur; though that didn't keep him from nodding anyway. There was no request you could make that he would refuse.

The sultry smile that pulled your pouty lips into a sacharrine curve made him weak; he felt his skin grow hot under your attention---no doubt red from the tips of his ears to his burly chest. His heart thundered as you began to lean down, your beautiful hand moving from his hair to cup his cheek and upturn his face to you. He returned your touch with one of his large hands covering the small one that held his cheek, leaning into your heavenly touch. He watched you all the way down 'til your lips were mere centimeters from his own; he could smell your sweet breath from here. He wondered how you tasted as he closed his eyes---about to find out. He felt the first brush of your soft lips against his own...

Before the loud blare of his alarm clock had him jolting out of his perfect dream.

He had been sleeping so deeply, when he woke, he didn't recognize his own bedchambers.

He groaned and scrubbed his hands down his face, reaching over to clamp a hand down harshly onto the off switch.

"Thanks a lot.", he muttered, like it was the clock's fault you were taken away.

You were right about that lavender---ever since he'd put it by his bedside like you'd instructed, he'd been sleeping much more deeply...though, an unexpected symptom of the sleep aid you gave him was vivid dreams.

Vivid dreams about you.

He'd been seeing you every night in his sleep; always meeting you back in that field, always ending up tangled up with you, holding you, kissing you, running his hands over every inch of soft skin you'd give him. Drinking you in like you were the most intoxicating liquor. He couldn't get enough.

Every morning, he'd wake up sorely dissapointed, wishing he could stay in dreamland with you for five more minutes---but duty calls.

Though he'd get on with his brutal work day, the thought of you would swim around his mind and steal his attention when he needed it most. He'd find himself reading and re-reading the same paragraph of some dull report as his thoughts would keep drifting off back to you. How, after one meeting, was he so bewitched?

It's because you were perfect, that's how. You were perfect, desperately so, for him.

Both the guards and prisioners of Meropide alike would rubber-neck their Duke as he strode by them in the halls; his pink-dusted cheeks and smirk giving away that he was beyond smitten---but with who?

Gossip and theories about the Duke's secret lover spread through the fortress like wildfire. Everyone wanted to know who it was; they'd grasp at any information they could and run with it.

"I heard it's one of the guards!" "Well I heard it's someone from the overworld!" "Sigewinne said he'd gone up on a summon last week, maybe he actually went up to see his sweetheart!" "Maybe Meropide will have a duchess!" "You think they'll throw the wedding here?"

This was the hottest story Meropide had seen in a decade, the Duke was lucky the steambird hadn't come a 'knockin, and the whole time, he remained blissfully unaware---a clear example of how you were a debilitating distraction.

He was dying to see you again, but he couldn't just take off from work; the only reason he was able to meet you in the first place was a summon he'd had to answer at the courthouse and an impromptu patrol around the grounds of the city while he was on his way.

He would write to you, but in the flurry of emotions meeting you had flooded him with, he forgot to get your name. A mistake he'd been kicking himself for ever since he'd parted from you.

At least he knew where to find you---if he'd ever get the chance.

He explored every break in his schedule, schemed up any reason to take another trip up to the overworld, but with the influx of prisoners funelling in and the shortage on fortress staff to manage them all, there was no way he was leaving his post anytime soon.

Fortunately, he didn't have to.

It was a particularly gloomy day in Meropide as Wriothesley walked the halls with dark circles under his eyes and a grimace on his face. It had been a few weeks since he'd set your lavender out next to his bed, and by this morning, it's smell had depleted entirely and the sprigs had wilted. No matter how hard he tried to preserve them, the flowers simply weren't made to survive without the sun. The loss of his sleep-aid in turn became the loss of you, the familiar smell no longer there to cart him off to that special piece of heaven in his mind where you existed. Last night was the first in a long time that he did not dream of you, and his rest had suffered for it.

The prisoners and guards whispered about "trouble in paradise", but were quickly silenced by his attention snapping in their direction---their duke having returned to his normal, vigilant state.

Tensions were high in the fortress as it's administratior was falling apart.

When his lunch break finally rolled around, he stumbled into his office grouchy, dischevelled, and groggy. All he wanted to do was take a much-needed nap while waiting for the heavily caffinated tea he ordered to arrive. He felt like his tie was suffocating him so he loosened it, unbuttoning the top couple buttons of his collar as well to give him a little more breathing room before folding over onto the mahogany surface of his desk with a thud and letting out a deep, tired sigh.

...this short moment of respite was quickly interrupted, however, by a soft knock on his door.

"Not. Now.", his voice was that of a big bad wolf's as he all but growled at the disturbance, a clear warning that he is not to be further disrupted.

However, the small, sweet voice that responded from the other side of the door had his eyes snapping wide open.

"...Sir Wriothesley?"

He recognized that voice.

For a moment, he thought he'd been dreaming---having only heard that voice in his head for the longest time.

Another knock.

"...Wriothesley?"

He's not dreaming.

He quickly righted himself; straightening his desk, smoothing out his prieviously rumpled hair and clearing his throat before responding.

"Come in."

His door slowly opened before you peeked your cute little head inside--his heart seized at the image.

There they were: your glimmering puppy eyes, your plushy lips, your beaming smile. All he'd been dreaming about for weeks was right there in front of him.

He stood to greet you; with a flick of his fingers, he gestured for you to come in. He was surprised, however, by your hesitancy. You stepped in politely, the smile on your face nervous and your cheeks pink. He ajudicated your expression for a moment, wondering what had you so startled.

...then he noticed your eyes flicking from his own down to his chest and back up again.

He realized, mortified, that he forgot to straighten his tie.

His hands twitched up to fix it, but it was much too late, you'd already seen everything. However, despite your initial surprise, you looked happy to see him.

You flitted right up to his desk with the sweetest look on your face; his heart drummed in his chest at the sight.

"Good afternoon!", you sang.

"...Good afternoon.", he sighed. Seeing you here was like taking a breath of fresh air---something rare in a fortress so deep within the sea. "What brings you to Meropide?".

"Well...I came to see you."

He tried his best to hide his delight, but his stony exterior quickly crumbled in your presence; he couldn't surpress the grin that grew on his face.

"Oh really now?" his sharp canines shone in his crooked smile as he leaned over you, bracing himself on his desk to get a good look at your beautiful face. You unconciously brought a hand over your heart to steady it---like it would leap out of your chest if you failed to hold it back.

You'd never seen a smile like his before, it was dreamy.

It took you a second to find your words before you set down your whicker gardening basket on his desk.

In it sat little containers of strawberries, blueberries, mini cucumbers, and the cherry tomatoes he liked, as well as two small bundles of lavender---one fresh, one dried.

His eyes were wide as you laughed shyly, "...I won't get in trouble for giving these to you, will I?".

You knew he told you not to give the things you grow on the city's land to the public, but did he count as the public? And if he did...could you push that line just the teeniest bit?

You weren't sure if he'd accept your gift, but you couldn't help bringing it to him anyway. Since the day you met, you'd been thinking about him every time you'd gone out to your garden; wondering if he'd really kept the lavender you gave him, musing about whether or not it was helping him sleep, daydreaming about him and wondering if he was thinking of you too...

He was.

"...you picked these for me?"

You nodded, fiddling with your fingers exictedly.

“…Thank you.”, he looked down at the basket and picked up a sprig of lavender, bringing it up to his nose for a sniff. He sighed contentedly. “You came at the perfect time. Mine just lost its scent last night.”.

"Oh, did it?", you point at the dry bunch you'd tied together for him with a little black ribbon, "These should keep their scent for a while...though I know the fresh ones smell sweeter."

"That smile is so cute.", he thought. He couldn't get enough of your blushing cheeks, the sweet, sheepish upturn of your lips, the way you couldn't quite look him in the eye. He needed that smile, needed you, and now that you were here, now that you'd come to him, he wasn't going to let you leave. Not without the promise of your return.

"...I know you've already done so much, but could I make a request?"

Your head tilted and lips formed a darling pout in curiousity, proving to him that yes, you could get cuter. "What is it?".

"...if I asked you to start a garden down here as well, would you?"

Your eyes lit up like fireworks, giving him exactly what we wanted to see.

"Yes, of course!", you nearly squealed, the heart in your chest felt like it was moments from bursting.

His wolfish grin broadened now, hugrier; if you were a lamb you'd be terrified, but your human heart was thrilled by his satisfaction. He's caught you, to both of your delight. The lamb happily entering the wolf's den, where she will gleefully stay.

"Then I'll make the arrangements.", he purred, the rumble making your heart skip; you weren't sure you could actually work in Meropide without your poor heart giving out on you from prolonged proximity to this man you were already dying for, but you sure as hell would try.

༻❦༺

It's like your presence alone mimicked the sunshine that otherwise hid itself from the underworld.

Everyone noticed it; your smile brought light to any room you entered, enchanting not only the guards, but the inmates as well. Even on Meropide's wost days, your kindness rid the fortress of doom and gloom---the way you adressed everyone as not only an equal, but a friend, the way you'd show care to everyone alike, even strangers, and not to mention, how the fruits of your labor changed the welfare meals from dull grub to colorful and flavorful masterpieces. Wriothesley was reluctant to share your work with anyone other than himself, but what other excuse would he have for starting a garden in the underworld, if not to feed the residents? It's not like he could advertise that it was just a way of keeping you close (though everyone was already fully aware of his intentions. The smirk on his face everytime he entered a room with you in it had all in proximity sharing knowing glances.).

Your cheer brightened any dreary day as you flitted through the expansive halls to the office of your duke, intent on sharing the results of any project you started or to ask for his council on your plans, to his great pleasure. He showered you with praise not many who drew the duke's gaze would recieve; you were precious to him and everyone knew it, adding fuel to the bonfire that was the gossip around Wriothesley's love-life.

You'd spend long hours in Meropide, from the early morning before the sun rose to long after darkness covered the sky and the stars shone in reflections of the water's ripples. By the time you'd arrive at your home above at the end of your day, it would only be a few hours before you'd make the trek back down. Wriothesley worried about you, telling you that he didn't want you staying so long and losing sleep, but every time he'd try to send you home, heeding your promises of "just five more minutes", "I'll wrap up soon!", he'd always return to find you still at work with that pretty smile on your face. He just couldn't bring himself to shoo you away. The final straw was the morning he'd entered his office after a good night's sleep, only to find you passed out on his couch. He thought about threatening to banish you if you continued to work yourself to death, but that would just be a cruel punishment for him too. The alternative he thought up was much kinder, having his staff set up a room in the fortress for you; complete with a big, soft bed and dozens of plushy blankets and pillows to ensure you rest well. He would not accept your mounds of thank-you's, assuring you that it was only his duty to care for you just as you care for the people of this fortress, himself especially.

It wasn't long before the subjects of Meropide began addressing you as "duchess", a mistake you'd flusteredely correct and one Wriothesley would neglect to, the insinuation bringing the slightest upturn to his lips. New residents were especially prone to this blunder, simply assuming that you and their duke were married; and who could blame them? The puppy eyes both of you gave each other while the other's back was turned was more than enough reason for them to come to the conclusion that you two were deeply in love with one another, and you were...though neither of you could bring yourselves to confess.

"Not yet...", Wriothesely thought as he watched your hands with soft eyes while they expertly worked in the soil---kept safe and clean by the pretty pink gardening gloves he'd gifted you.

"...Not yet.", you thought while dreamily listening to the low rumble of his voice that made your heart skip and knees grow weak as he gave you advice on the next plants he'd like to see you grow, distracting you from actually absorbing the information. He was more than happy to repeat it for you, keeping you in his office for just a few minutes more...keeping you close for just a few moments more.

Thanks to you, Wriothesley had been sleeping better than ever, though he had no use for dreams now; what helped him shut his eyes every night, what woke him with a beating heart in his chest and a blissful smile on his face was knowing that you'd be with him when he got out of bed.

You were right there, whenever he needed you, whenever he wanted more of you, you were always there.

The day he'd finally make you his was steadily approaching; the feelings you stirred in him beginning to overflow. His gaze on you as he watched you work became ever more longing, no longer bothering to look away once you met his eyes--making your heart flutter as you hastily looked away. His touches became more needy; what were once featherlight brushes against your hand as you stood next to him and talked about your garden became a possessive hold, interlacing his large fingers with yours. The soft words of praise he would speak to your labor became ardent words of affirmation that a believer in an archon might say kneeling before their alter---musings about you, not a gardener in Meropide, but a woman loved:

"You warm this Fortress more than any blazing fire could."

"Although it aches me to keep a beautiful thing like you from the sun, I couldn't bring myself to let you leave the darkness without me."

"I'm lucky to have met you. Sometimes I can't believe you're real; maybe your lavender has made my dreams too vivid. If that's the case, I'd never want to wake again."

Neither of you could bring yourselves to say it, say you wanted the other---truly, deeply wanted. It had just gone on too long, this period of stasis you both shared was one neither of you would risk ending with three meaningful words:

I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.

At a certain point, you stopped correcting the residents of Meropide when they called you "duchess".

At a certain point, Wriothesley stopped holding back his desire to touch you, feel you; slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest from behind as you both looked on at the garden that had tethered you together---grown roots within both of you that tangled with one another into knots that would never be undone.

All that he had left to do was kiss you.

It wasn't at all grand, it was just another moment between you two, one that you wordlessly fell into step together like every moment before. Just a quick good-morning meeting in his office, like you had every day. Just an update on what you will be working on in your garden today. And just as you were about to turn and go, a decisive hand he combed through your hair to bring you to him, a soft kiss that had both of your hearts thundering like a steam engine down a track, and then a moment of shared breath and coupled smiles before you both parted and got on with your day.

You were his and he was yours.

You belonged to him, to Meropide, to the entirety of his underworld.

He belonged to you, your garden, and the fruits of life born from your care and affection.

And never again will the space between land and ocean seperate you.

[freyito]

Can you write HDC where Smoke, Kaui Liang and Bihan take care of their girlfriend who's sick? :)

of course! i'm gonna make this for a gender neutral reader tho, since i have a lot of female asks! this might be one of my favorite tropes

cw: fluff!!!, Bi-Han's just a little bit distant, proofread

ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴ ᴋᴜᴇɪ ᴛʀɪᴏ + ᴀ ꜱɪᴄᴋ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ

Tomas...

worries over you. He's by your side, 24/7, even if you insist he'll get sick too. He doesn't care, he wants to make sure your okay. Tomas is at your beck and call, making sure your comfortable. Feeling cold? He's got three blankets picked out for you, take one, take all. Want a warm bath? Already drawn, he's even got some florals, candles, and soaks picked out. Thirsty? He's got some green tea already brewed. Or, if you don't like tea, he has some orange juice, or water if you so choose. Tomas has some soup for you, too. Česnečka, a Czech garlic soup. Something he says will cure anything. He'll even sing you a Czech lullaby every night, if you ask nicely. Eventually, when you recover from your cold, and Tomas inevitably ends up falling ill, you'll be there to give him the same treatment.

Bi-Han...

doesn't quite know what to do. Yes, he's worried, but amongst being the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, and his cold demeanor, he believes he doesn't have much time to worry over you. It is only when Liu Kang- of all people- pushes him in the right direction. With his trust over the Lin Kuei in his brothers hand, he never leaves your bedside. Unless you ask, of course. Bi-Han is very soft with you, and really, all he wants to do is hold you. He knows he can't, but it's kind of hard to hold himself back! While he doesn't know what to do, he will do anything you ask of him, short of kissing you. Bi-Han, unlike Tomas, has some restraint, and he'd rather have you save your strength, and not have to worry about him after your sick. Ask, and ye shall receive. Down to the very specifics. As many blankets as you want, as many pillows as you want, the exact temperature of your bath, what herbs could make you feel better, how to carry you, etc. And, as much as Bi-Han wants you to rest, ultimately, he'll end up giving into those pretty eyes of yours, and go on a walk with you. It's okay, though, the fresh air will do you some good.

Kuai Liang...

dotes over you. He's afraid of you being sick, even if it is just a common cold. Somehow, seeing you weak and bedridden makes his stomach churn. He's worried sick. It's only when Bi-Han tells Kuai Liang to be with you that he fully devotes himself to your care. He is very physically present, he has to be touching you somewhere. Mainly, he keeps your pinkies linked, even in the slightest. The minute he was freed of his duties he had gotten you everything you could possibly need. He has so many teas chosen for you, and even more spicy foods. He wants to make sure you eat well, but Kuai Liang can't say no to you, so when you ask for a cookie, a slice of cake, something sweet that you maybe should avoid, he's still going to get it for you. He will always carry you to your bath, too. And wash your hair. As long as whatever he's doing helps you feel better in any way, he doesn't mind. And afterwards, he'll put new, clean sheets on your bed. Kuai Liang doesn't give himself much room to fail, much less to fail you. So, when you finally regain your strength, it is almost as if Kuai Liang is a new man, more focused and lethal than ever.

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