#i am a proud starlight disliker

[shummthechumm]

i am very reluctant to fully watch s9 of mlp im sorry from what ive seen its a weird season. like, a completely different show. it feels so different from the rest of the show and while i have watched 2 or 3 episodes they just aren’t hitting like the prior seasons (minus s8). like even in the more mediocre seasons (1-7) you could still tell it was the same show. 

i know there were a bunch of new writers post season 7 so it makes sense. i do not care for the self-congratulatory writing habits the last two seasons have. no mlp writers cozy glow is not as funny or clever as you think. why is the child evil. why is the child one of the only major villains to not be reformed in the end/to be executed. shes 7, mlp writers. 

[courtlyharlequin]

🦁 + I’m an introvert and extremely awkward when it comes to meeting new people </3 so it takes a lot of time to fully warm up to them! I can get real quiet around people I just met to the point where they don’t notice me at all and I dislike this part about me because that’s so sad but!! loud asf around people I’m comfortable with. I really really really am down bad for night skies and astronomy. I’ve always wanted to be able to see a sky full of dazzling stars but unfortunately due to all the light pollution in cities I won’t be able to see them :( so it’s always been a dream of mine to witness such beauty, even better with a person I cherish and love 🥺

AHHHH I couldn’t help but jump in on this event! Couldn’t bear to miss out on your amazing writing <33 congratulations on 1k+ and wishing all the best for you Vivi!! You’re such a sweetheart please know that 💛

(also this is such a good event idea you’re always the best 😮‍💨)

Starlight

Warning(s): female reader

A/N: Hello Leona’s housewif– I mean Sem!! Semmy Sem Sem!! Thank you so much for stopping by~ I really appreciate the support. You’re super sweet!! I was worried this event would flop since it’s different from what I’ve done in the past, but it turned out alright!! It’s actually my favorite event so far. I’m proud of myself so thank you for the compliment. It means a lot ♡ Anyhow, I hope you like it! I came to deliver (╯✧▽✧)╯

You frowned at the pile of laundry in the corner of Leona’s room. It wasn’t even in the hamper. His garments were draped over different pieces of furniture. You squinted, making out the shape of his gym uniform in the midst of the dark. It laid on his desk, crumpled up into a ball with sharp points protruding out of its sides.

“Leona?” you called.

Your voice echoed throughout his room. No response. You placed a hand on your hips. It was nearly midnight. Where else could he be, if not in his room at an hour like this? You scolded yourself for getting your hopes up. But how could you not? It was Leona Kingscholar of all people. Sure, he was incredibly entitled at times–  some would even call him arrogant, but he was so fine. You occasionally stopped by the makeshift field to watch him play. His prowess, his hair tied up, his leadership– everything he did made your heart flutter. You didn’t think he would notice you on the bleachers– let alone jokingly coin the term “darling” whilst calling you out for ogling at with heart eyes. You died of embarrassment that day.

Even to this day, you were absolutely smitten with him. You still haven't processed the fact that he asked you out. Him. He asked you out. Your mind was filled with hopelessly romantic daydreams and scenarios for days on end. You had brushed over the fact that he was Leona Kingscholar: an incredibly handsome athlete that you admired from afar, but also the troublesome student who skipped classes and made his underclassmen his errand boy.

It didn’t set in that he was the same person until now. Could he have ditched you? You slapped both hands on your cheeks. He wouldn’t waste your time like that. You weren’t his servant. You were his lover– if you even counted as one anyway. This was your first date after all. Moreover, you were a girl. Female. Leona would treat you well. He wouldn’t stand you up. According to Cater, Afterglow Savannah was a “ladies first” kind of culture. Hopefully, he wasn’t lying. The redhead always had a habit of ferreting out things. You would like to have hope in Leona– whether or not Cater told you was true. He was complex– layered like a piece of origami. There was much to unfold.

The moonlight embraced you as you made your way to the balcony of his room. You leaned against the railing. The sky was a deep indigo blue, dotted with brilliant, twinkling stars.

“Wow…” you breathed.

“Yeah.”

You yelped. The starlit sky was replaced with piercing green eyes.

“Leona!”

You took a step back, averting your gaze from his. You had never seen them up close before. You had never been so close to his face before either. His braids tickled your face. You angled your neck upward, getting a clearer view of Leona. He laid flat on his stomach, craning his neck over the edge of his bedroom’s roof. Your eyes trailed down his chest. Gravity pulled down his shirt. It hung loosely around his body, exposing his entire upper body if you looked through the V cut at the right angle. You coughed, turning around to not strain your neck amongst other reasons. Noting your change in position, Leona propped himself up with his elbows, looking down on you.

“Good evening to you, (y/n).”

“What are you doing up there?”

You hesitantly reached for his face, pausing to see if he’d push you away. He hummed. You brushed his bangs aside. His ears twitched.

“The stars are nicer up here,” he said.

“Stars?”

“You said you liked the stars didn’t you? ‘Down bad for the stars’ if I remember correctly?”

“Well yes– I mean no,” you coughed, “Yes, I like the stars.”

Out of all the things he could’ve remembered, he remembered that particular sentence. Granted, it was a rather bizarre combination of words. “Stars” and “down bad” weren’t typically paired together. Your cheeks flushed as he flashed you a smirk.

He offered you a hand. You cocked your head to the side. Your eyes widened as he grabbed your hand with his and hoisted you up onto the roof. He grunted as you struggled.

“Hold still,” he hissed.

Your breath hitched at the sudden movement.

Leona sighed, slowly lowering you to the ground, “Use your feet to gain some leverage. Put them up against the wall. Kinda like rock climbing. Don’t struggle so much.”

You nodded. He pulled up effortlessly this time.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it now?”

You rolled your eyes as you crawled onto the wooly blanket Leona was resting on. He pushed a basket of fruit and pastries to your side. You glanced at the goods then to him. His hair shrouded his face. His tail swayed back and forth. You giggled, grabbing a handful of berries before making yourself comfortable by his side.

“You’re right.”

“Hah?”

“The stars are nicer up here.”

“They are.”

“Do you come here often?”

“Sometimes.”

You leaned against his shoulder. His tail brushed your side as he wrapped an arm around you.

“Do you need anything? It can get cold up here.”

“No, not at all. Thank you though.”

“Let me know if you do.”

“Okay.”

[naminethewriter]

America’s Favourite Gameshow!!

Day 2 and I’m still on track! It’s way too late though and I hope I get done with the other prompts sometime before 12am 😴 Anyway, have fun with this silly little fluff story 💙💚🥰 @intrulogicalweek2021

Here on Ao3

Masterpost | Intrulogical Week 2021 Masterpost

Characters: Remus, Logan

Relationship: romantic Intrulogical

Rating: G

Words: 1,480

Summary:  Logan just wanted to make sure his boyfriend ate something. Remus wants entertainment more.

Logan walked along the halls of Remus’ castle in search of his boyfriend who had run off after breakfast to continue some project of his. Now, hours later, Logan wanted to ensure that he had eaten since then because while they didn’t require to eat, considering they were just figments of Thomas’ overactive subconscious, it had proven to be beneficial to their wellbeing as well as Thomas’. It had taken Logan almost a year of research to come to that conclusion but it had been well worth the effort.

 But both sides of Creativity were prone to forgetting the passage of time while working on one of their passion projects, hence Logan’s decision to check on Remus this afternoon. He had already looked through most of the grounds and was now on his way up into a tower. It was pretty much separated from the rest of the castle and nobody but Logan and the Duke himself had access and Remus spend a lot of time up there doing whatever he wants without disturbance. The only reason that Logan had put off checking there first is because he disliked the long, long staircase leading up. About three fourth of the way up, Logan could hear cluttering sounds, so it seemed reasonable to assume his search would soon be over.

After another five minutes of climbing he finally reached the top, only one door separating him from whatever mess Remus has caused this time. Logan took a few deep breaths before pushing it open.

 Pure Chaos laid before him. He couldn’t even begin to describe it. Furniture overturned and broken. Paint or something colourful had gotten everywhere. Glass shards, papers, confetti, everything scattered randomly around the room and Remus in the middle of it.

 Logan didn’t even attempt going any further in. Instead he called out to his boyfriend who turned to face so fast, his head rotated more than it should with a sickening crack.

 “Lolo!” he grinned, pulling his head back into the right position before climbing over the rubble to the door. As soon as he got into touching distance he wrapped himself around Logan in a tight hug. His boyfriend just patted his arm until he let go. “What brings you here, starshine? You horny?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing Logan to roll his eyes.

 “No Remus, I am not horny. I simply came to check on you since I haven’t seen you since breakfast.”

 “Ah shit, is it already evening? Damn time flies when you’re busy, huh.”

 “What were you doing in the first place? This entire room is a mess.” Logan immediately regretted asking when he saw the smile spreading across his boyfriend’s face. “No, Remus, please-“

 Too late.

 Remus snapped and suddenly there was a spotlight on the two of them, two more swinging across the room that was now notably darker. Some kind of jingle started playing and an invisible audience started applauding. Remus, now in a suit, brought a microphone to his mouth.

 “Ladies and Gentlemen! You have waited patiently and now it is finally time to play America’s favourite gameshow! It’s” – the fake audience yelled along the next words –

 “Art or Science!”

 “The rules are simple,” Remus continued alone. “Our returning champion, Logan ‘Logic’ Sanders, has five minutes to survey the room and then he has to decide: did I cause this chaos in the name of Art or Science! He is allowed to ask me three things to specify, not one hint more. Our contestant has a success rate of 66% so far and I’m sure we are all curious to see the result of our fourth episode of-!” Remus held the mic away from him and again the imaginary audience shouted:

 “Art or Science!”

 “Now, Logan. Are you ready to start?” Remus held out the mic to Logan this time who groaned and levelled him with an unimpressed glare.

 “Is this really necessary, Cephy?” Remus laughed and threw his arms open.

 “Of course not, but it’s fun so we’re doing it!” Logan massaged his temple. Ever since Thomas had taken to binge watching SNL sketches on YouTube, Remus had been practically enthralled with their game show parodies. Especially if Bill Hader (Remus’ favourite cast member) played the host. His top spot shifted between ‘What’s that Name?’ and ‘Who’s on Top’ every five minutes and Logan couldn’t deny that the chaos of those concepts fit Remus very well, so it should be no surprise that he thought of his own little show. It just annoyed Logan that he was the only contestant ever having to deal with it.

 Well, at least it was short. He could play along for five minutes.

 “Fine, start the clock.” Remus cheered, as did the audience, and the light returned to how it was before, with the entire room evenly lit.

 “As always, please don’t hesitate to give us play-by-play commentary on your thought process, Sherlock,” Remus giggled and Logan nodded absentmindedly, already scanning the room for clues. He took the first minute to simply think and his boyfriend let him but Logan knew he would grow impatient eventually.

 “Clearly there is both art supplies as well as lab equipment present and I have witnessed you using both for the others intended purpose, so that does not provide any essential hints. The furniture is mostly broken and out of place. Especially that table that seems to be hanging out the window and only hangs on with one leg anchored inside. The glass was most likely smashed by said table. This could point to a possible explosion that resulted after a failed experiment, favouring science as its cause. Though again, I have seen you set off an explosion to create an art piece of yours so it is not concrete proof either.” Remus nodded along to his descriptions and a spotlight also shone on the areas he talked about.

 “Now for my first question, I would like you to confirm whether the dark red substance in that corner is blood or not.”

 “It’s not, though I tried my best to get it to smell the same.” Logan nodded, again falling silent for a moment to think. The quiet was broken by a croak and something moved though it was hidden enough that Logan couldn’t quite make it out.

 “You used live specimen. Not unheard off for your art but more common with experiments. Especially frogs.”

 “Toads, not frogs actually.”

 “I can tell apart a frog croaking and toad doing the same, Remus. That sound was a frog.”

 “Nah, you see, I like how toads look better but frogs sound more appealing, so I made a toad that croaked like a frog.”

 “Fascinating. Could you show it to me later?”

 “Sure! Also that counts as your second questions.” Logan glared at his boyfriend for a moment but relented.

 “Fine.” He continued to point out other details about the room and whether they pointed towards art or science and soon Remus announced that he had only 30 seconds left. Logan contemplated in his head and came to a decision at the same moment Remus called:

 “Time! Five minutes are up, Ladies and Gentlemen! Now Logan, give us your answer, please!” The room had darkened once again, with a spotlight on Logan and Remus and two others moving around the room.

 “I say it’s art.”

 “Is that your final answer?”

 “Yes, Remus, please do not drag this out any longer.”

 “Yeah, yeah.” He waved his hand around before getting back into character. “His answer is locked in! Now let’s see if he’s right. Is it art?” A drumroll played and then a bang. Even more confetti poured out of the ceiling, along with balloons, the normal, oval ones and those long ones with two of the former tied to one of the latter (I’m sure you can guess what that symbolises, we’re talking about Remus here after all).

 “Coooooooorrrreeeeccccctttt!” Applause roared and Remus threw an arm around his boyfriend, pulling him close. “Another win for our returning champion! With this his success rate is now at 75%! How are you feeling, are you proud?” He held out the mic to Logan, who rolled his eyes.

 “I am alright, now please wrap this up.” Remus giggled but complied.

 “That was it for this episode of-“

 “Art or Science!”

 “See you next time, folks!” And with another snap, things returned to normal, the lights, the sounds and Remus’ outfit. “Wasn’t that fun, starlight?”

 “It was fine, Remus.”

 “You just don’t like admitting it~”

 “No matter, that is not what I came up here for anyway.”

 “Oh yeah, why did you come here?”

 “To ask if you have eaten since breakfast.”

 “Oh, rotten shit, I forgot.”

 “I thought as much. Come on, I secured you some leftovers from lunch and the rest of the hot sauce.”

 “You are the best, moonlight.”

[thuskindlyshescatters]

How much do you hate the lightning in the Haven fight?

More than death.

Specifically, I dislike the lighting (*) in the Haven fight because I have never ONCE, in 91 videos and 3 years of editing, been able to color correct the Haven fight into something visually pleasing.

Put simply, the room that the Haven fight is set in has the ugliest goddamn color palette I have ever seen. The walls are olive green, the floor is two tones of tan, there are darker pillars on the walls but also blue Haven banners and multicolor paintings? Because the colors themselves are so ambiguous, my editing software has no idea how to interpret them -- is this environment yellow? Red? Orange, which it has no dedicated channel for? The yellow lighting exacerbates the situation by making skin tones bright yellow with the lightest brush of saturation, and by muddling any cool-tone objects (Weiss's Summon, for instance) against the gross background.

I am most proud of my color editing (excluding those with complete desaturation because that's kind of cheating in this case) in Mr. Blue Sky, Fantasy, and Carry On, and THIS is the best I could do:

What color is that? Even Adobe doesn't know.

Furthermore, it's the antithesis of dramatic! No stark shadows, dire colors, highlighted contrasts, nothing. The lighting is that of a living room, and poorly-lit one at that. Even before the show had projected cell shading, it demonstrated an ability to do dramatic lighting -- the atmospheric haze of the Nevermore fight, the foggy starlight of the mech fight, the darkness spotlighting of the "I May Fall" fight being some beautiful examples. So why is the lighting in one of the most pivotal confrontations in the show just sort of... dim, but flat, but warm, but soft, but vibrant, but bland? How did they manage to achieve every single one of those at once?

In conclusion, I am pained.

[simplyotometrash]

Fluff Alphabet- Asmodues

Full Alphabet (because I’m weak)

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Your personality! Asmo adores everything about you, but your personality is what truly draws him in. You fascinate him. You aren’t like the demons or witches who only show interest in him for pacts or for sex. You genuinely love him. And he finds it curious. The little facets of your personality draw him in, he finds himself learning new things about you every single day you’re together. In turn, he learns new things about himself, too.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Ask me what ISN’T his favorite part, it’s a harder question. He encapsulates love for you, he loves your whole body. If he has to pick something, he would choose your eyes. They truly are the windows to the soul. Your beautiful soul (I beg you, listen to the song Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney). Your eyes have so much light and life, they reflect your feelings so well. They’re something he finds himself getting lost in. 

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Asmo can be a real cuddle bug. He likes holding you and being held. He’s only like this if he’s actually in a committed relationship with someone. His ideal way to cuddle is you both laying face to face, your leg draped over his hip and one of his legs between yours. His arm is draped over your waist, fingers able to trace against your back. He can see your stunning face and give you kisses and watch as you fall asleep. And think every day how lucky he is.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Shopping dates! Asmo likes to make full days out of your dates. A date with him includes shopping to both your favorite stores, eating at a cafe for a nice break, more shopping if you’re feeling up to it. Getting massages or manicures together. He likes wrapping things up at home, though, with a nice bubble bath together after you put your things down. It’s dimly lit, smells soft and floral, and the hot water is relaxing for your muscles. His perfect way to end an ideal date.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

He has to learn to be open with certain emotions. He’s been treated like his sin for so long that sex and flirting is how he knows to communicate. But he has so much to express, he just isn’t given the chance to. In a relationship with you, he learns other ways of expression that he likes. He loves to give you gifts. He loves sitting in the same room, not even doing anything together. He becomes very open with outright telling you how he feels about things because he doesn’t want to keep you guessing. If he needs comfort, he asks for it. If he is happy, he shows it.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

I’m not sure if Asmo is really a kid person. That’s not to say he dislikes kids, I don’t think he really wants them for himself. He can’t see himself as a dad. He prefers the freedom of not having children. But he does want to marry you. He wants you to be his. If he does change his mind about children, he would express it to you outright. If he changes his mind, it would be quite a few years into your relationship. I do think he’d love kid’s clothing and baby clothes.

“Look at how small and cute they are!” 

He’d actually be a really good father if he decides he wants children with you. But that’s for the distant future to decide.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

Asmo gives you gifts constantly. 

“Oh, my darling star, I saw this in the shop and thought of you!”

He will do this a lot. He sees things that make him think of you or that he thinks you will like and buys them to give to you. His two love languages are gifts and touch. You will just get presents regularly. He does enjoy getting gifts, too! He is always thankful and appreciative. 

“Why, of course you bought me a gift. I am the dazzling Asmodeus after all~!”

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

He didn’t think he liked holding hands much until you. He thought it felt sweaty and gross. And then you two held hands for the first time while shopping. You weren’t even dating at the time. His heart skipped and he knew he was done for. Now, he takes any chance he can to hold your hand. He likes to swing your hands, too. It’s childish and cute, very playful.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Asmo himself has enough self control that he would never hurt you. He’s like Mammon in that he would not even use his demon form against you, ever. But if he did accidentally hurt you, this demon boy would feel so horrible. 

If another demon hurt you, he would use his power to force them to leave before taking care of you. He is protective of his sweet honey. You will be catered to until you are healed again.

If you get hurt because you’re clumsy, he’ll laugh as he helps you up. He’s clearly checking you over for serious injury and taking you to get cleaned up if needed. He reminds himself to catch you next time you trip or stop you from running into things.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

His jokes are usually about himself. He loves himself, he is a king of self love after all. I think he plays up being a “narcissist” and uses it for joke material. I personally hate the whole “Asmo is a narcissist” thing because that isn’t what a narcissistic personality is. Loving oneself like he does is vanity but not narcissism and we need to stop calling vain people narcissists. 

Anyway!

He does like to pull pranks on and with you. You two can get engaged in prank wars a lot. Usually little things. Never, ever, mess with Asmo’s products though. If you do something that temporarily dyes his hair, he will come at you full force with his next prank. Don’t fucking do it.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

He loves kisses! All the smooches for Asmodeus! But he has a fondness for kissing your neck. Maybe the thought of marking your neck makes it more appealing. Maybe it’s the fact that the throat has a pulse point that he can feel under his lips. He just loves trailing kisses up the column of your neck and to your jaw and lips. His kisses get real sensual real fast. Not necessarily sexual. 

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

Physical affection and gift giving! As stated before, these are his primary love languages. Holding your hand or linking arms or hugs or cuddles. He loves touch. He craves physical affection and giving it to you is one way he shows his love. Giving you gifts is the other. It shows how often you are on his mind, how much he thinks of you when he’s doing things.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

That first time you ever held his hand. You two weren’t dating at the time. You were out shopping and got excited. It was crowded, though, and you didn’t want to get separated from him. You grabbed his hand, fingers linking together to strengthen the hold, and it was like his heart stopped beating for a moment. Everything seemed to slow down. That was when he knew he was in love. No one’s touch had ever made him feel like that before. He has photobooth pictures from that day in his wallet.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

His worst fear is that you will tell him that you’ve been using him for sex the entire time. That you don’t really love him. He doesn’t want to be reduced down to his sin by you. You, the person he loves so much. The person who proved that he was more than his sin. If you came out with that, he doesn’t know what he would do with himself. He’s expressed this fear openly to you, to which he needed to be held because he was beginning to cry while telling you. Reassure him that your love goes far beyond sex. Please, don’t just be using him. He’s far more fragile than one might think.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

He is very particular about matching colors. With everything. If things don’t match, Asmo will not be happy. Even coordinating outfits with you is important. He doesn’t want to wear colors that clash with what you’re wearing. It’s important for things to look good together. That includes you two as a couple.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Oh he has a whole fucking list of pet names. He rotates through them routinely, it never gets boring. Sweetie, sweetheart, my dove, my darling, honey, my sweet honey, darling star. sunshine, starlight, darling love, love. It never gets old with Asmo. He loves cute pet names. Please call him by pet names, too. He doesn’t use babe or baby because he feels they’re overused.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Asmo, while he loves going on dates, enjoys just being in a room with you. You can be doing your own thing while he reads a magazine or paints his nails or scrolls through Devilgram. He doesn’t care what either of you are doing, so long as you are together. You don’t even need to talk. He likes having you in the room. But please, let him paint your nails. He will die if he gets to match your nails with his.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney and I will die on this hill

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

Asmo doesn’t keep secrets from you. He doesn’t see much need to. He’s pretty much an open book.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

Once he realized he was in love with you, not too long. He slowly pushed his boundaries with you to gauge reactions for the next few weeks before making a very romantic and heartfelt confession to you.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He tries to find out why you’re upset. He wants to help you. If you let him, he’ll give you a full body massage to help you feel better. He’ll run you a bath and let you soak, sitting by the bathtub if you ask. He will do anything he can to help you feel better. And he’s a great listener for when you’re ready to talk.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

Oh, Asmo will show you off all the time. He loves getting to flaunt the fact that he has the most perfect partner. If you don’t like being shown off, he will tone it down. But he’s proud of you. Proud to be with you.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

Asmo isn’t a fan of the idea of you being in serious fights. Especially with demons. He would fight for you in that case. If it’s a little cat fight, he is totally the boyfriend that would yell “kick her ass, sweetheart!” and hold your stuff for you while cheering you on.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

I feel like emotions are very connected to his sin. He can read you better than anyone. He can tell when pushing things is a bad idea and will leave it be. He can tell when you need space or need to get out of a situation. 

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

Asmo would have to make something of it. It needs to be perfect and romantic. But very much a private affair. He doesn’t want to put you on the spot in public, he thinks that’s tacky and crude. He would beg to be able to propose to you in the human world. You go to Japan when the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, The area is secluded, no one is around. There are cherry blossom petals dancing in the breeze when he kneels down and pulls out the ring to ask you. He even had Satan’s help writing his proposal like a poem. All for you.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

He feels calm when doing self care routines with you. Sometimes you just need to sit back, relax, and put on a face mask. It’s even more relaxing to do it with someone you care about. It doesn’t have to be a quiet kind of relaxing for him. He feels calm when getting to sit back and giggle with you, showing each other pictures you find while waiting on your masks to dry.

[moodymidnightkitten]

Starlight Part 1

A/N: So this has become probably my longest fic yet, and I am so proud of it, I was going to do the beginning very differently but I grew to love it the way it was so I hope you all enjoy this as well. 

W/c: 2142

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

Genre: fluff and very light smut due to the references to sexual activities

"Master, a vessel has been brought about," your curse that is the embodiment of a cat said, approaching you as you were sitting on the balcony edge of your home. A beautifully large building hidden in the woodsy countryside. 

"Hmm, and for whom Chinami?" You asked your curse creature. She gazed up at you with galaxy like eyes. 

"Well master, it would seem to be Sukuna, the king of curses." She chimed ever so sweetly. 

"How troublesome, and no need to add the king of curses part, he's merely a speck of unimportance, but I guess a reunion is in order, do tell Chinami, where would he be residing?" You asked gingerly stroking the cats back, ruffling her ears causing a purr to resonate with her response. 

"Tokyo, at the Curse Technical College master, " 

"Please Chinami, drop the formalities, but I guess you and I will be going on a trip, it's been awhile since I've seen the school, how exciting it will be to check in on everyone." You got up from your spot and smoothed out your dress, grabbing Chinami and holding her as you began to get ready for your long journey. 

It wasn’t often you crossed worlds, but when you did it was always a delight to see how humans are faring for themselves. A comfort even. It was even nicer to be able to see the progression of humanity, and what a delight it was to come across humans who can control evil curses that linger and find themselves in the human world. It would seem as though your kind are less and less needed, a retired breed as some might say. So you and your people live your own lives like humans, but without the drag of evil curses, but that's not to say they don’t congregate every now and again in your world, but in your world they could just be considered as much as a nuisance as a house fly. 

But due to the changing times you made sure to dress more appropriately. Opting for leggings and a hoodie, although sadly you could not take the blue blush that lingered between your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose, golden stars and star formations decorated the blue blush as well, dark blue eyebrows and sunflower yellow eyes. You still stuck out amongst everyone else but no more than someone who was really good at what the humans called, makeup. 

Chiname rested upon your shoulders as you walked through the streets of Tokyo, eventually coming up to the school building. 

“Chinami, are you excited? I do believe this is your first time being here, even better, you get to meet some old acquaintances of mine.” You said, reaching your hand up so place it upon her head. 

“Of course y/n, learning something new about you everyday is the best part of being by your side, there is no end to the amazing things I learn about you,” she chimed in, nestling her head more into the crook of your neck. And with that you walked into the compound of the large school. Eventually seeing a tall man wearing a mask over his eyes, a man you so very well know. 

“Gojo!” You yelled, getting his attention from across the way, causing him to stop and look curiously at you. It took a second for him to register who you were but when he did he was absolutely over the moon and came rushing towards you as you sauntered over in his direction. He immediately wrapped his arms around you in a hug, something you shouldn’t be used to after not seeing him for a long time. 

“Y/n!! What brings you here on such a surprise visit?” He asked now nestling his cheek against yours. Causing a small chuckle to resonate within you. But you pulled away to give yourself distance between you both. 

“I think we both know the answer to my question, Gojo, how long have you been holding Sukunas vessel?” You crossed your arms and looked up to the handsomely tall man in front of you. 

“Oooo always so serious,” he said poking your cheek and then his attention was grabbed by the pure white cat that sat upon your shoulders, her galaxy eyes staring intently at Gojo. “As well as theres more introductions to be made, who is this cute little creature you have with you?” He said, not rustling the fur on Chinamis head. Causing her to get annoyed. 

“Please do not touch me,” Chinami said, twisting her head to the side. Causing a look of shock and surprise to show on Gojos face. 

“Oooo and she talks??? Well I shouldn’t have expected less, and my dearest apologies fur ball,” he said chuckling and bowing before Chinami, being called a fur ball just led her to be more annoyed. 

“Please, do tell y/n, what is this insatiable man to you?” Chinami asked, looking intently at you for answers. 

“It is a long, but good story Chinami, I will make sure to tell you one day but for now we have a more serious matter to attend to. Gojo, I asked you a question very nicely, and you know me enough. Do not make me ask again, where is the vessel and most importantly, who is the vessel?” Arms still crossed in front of you Gojo leans in and practically whispers in your ear. 

“Come with me,” now pulling away smiling, turning on his heel leading the way. 

“With pleasure, but while we are making our way there, might I add you’ve grown quite old Gojo, how old are you now? thirty-two?” you asked. 

“You would be correct, and the vessel's name is Yuji Itadori, a fun kid, he’s been the vessel for Sukuna for about four years now.” He replied, still walking and looking forward. 

“I very much dislike not knowing this information until this long afterwards, but I assume that he must have a strong character to manage a pest like Sukuna,” you said, 

“He is, he’s been training with him since he was sixteen, and has grown to be a very good asset for this school and other curse sorcerers, but ah here we are!” Gojo stopped in front of room in the hallway of one of the many school buildings. Gojo didn’t even knock before barging into the room. 

“Itadori!” He yelled practically now barreling into the room towards the pink haired boy who was seated on his bed. Eyes wide with shock at the sudden intrusion, looking at you both confused as to who the guest Gojo brought was but also kind of like a plea for help, to be released from Gojos grasp. But then Gojo pulled away and stood in front of him as you walked into the room and shutting the door behind you. 

“My friend y/n is here to speak with Sukuna!” Gojo said, making himself comfortable on the desk chair. 

“Ooo, I don’t know how I can get him out for you, since sometimes he just refuses to listen, but I’ll try my hardest,” smiling Itadori held his fist up to chest level. 

“No need, I already know how to get to him, just sit and relax,” you said walking over to the man sitting on the bed. Putting your hand on his forehead and nearly on the top of his head. 

“What I’m going to do is extend myself into his domain within your body, you see I know Sukuna personally, as were both from the same plane of another realm, but I assure you, as I’m speaking with Sukuna Gojo will begin to explain everything about me,” you said reassuring Itadori or your action, he nodded in agreement so now you begun to transfer your mental being into his. 

Within a few seconds you body appeared in a dark and dreary place, informing you that you are now most definitely in the domain of Sukuna, who from what you could see was sitting on a hill on a throne. 

“You really did make yourself at home within this man's body, didn’t you.” You said bluntly. A chuckle resonated from the man who sits above you. 

“Y/n, oh how I missed you, I am also surprised it took you so long, what have you not made any trips to the human world within the last four years?” Sukuna said, now rising from his seat and down the stairs towards you eventually stopping right in front of you. You looked up into his eyes showing no emotion, but why was your heart racing now? Why are feelings from the past now rising within your chest? 

“I’ve had no reason to do so until now, Sukuna,” you said. Sukuna bent down a bit to make straight eye contact with you, brushing his fingers down your cheek, your jawline and eventually trailing down your neck to your collar bone, wrapping his fingers around your neck and bringing his mouth to your ear. 

“Was it because you missed me?” his low and quiet tone was threatening your senses, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. You stepped back, releasing yourself from his grasp. But he pulled you back in, making himself a resident of the side of your face, and also bodies now completely touching. 

“But I did miss you y/n, there was the constant reminder of you lingering around that weird white haired man, pray do tell what I’m sensing,” he whispered in your ear. 

“You’re not mistaken Sukuna, but what you think you sense no longer exists,” you tried your best to make it seem as though your rendezvous with Gojo was something that held no meaning. But Sukuna was not so easily fooled, he wrapped his fingers tighter around your neck. 

“You’re a horrible liar, and to think you’re the type to try and make me jealous,” he said, gingerly biting your ear and trailing his nibbling down your neck. But this time you needed to get away, what happened between you both was over, you just knew you could be of extra assistance to Itadori when it comes to Sukuna if things were to lose control and get worse than things already are. Rage begun to flow through your body. 

“Don’t you dare continue any further Sukuna, surely you must be joking to think your actions are okay.” You loathe this man, and everything about him. You hated that he was right and of course you would be lying to say you didn’t miss him. 

In these moments with Sukuna you have completely forgotten the physical effects that happened to your body when you were deeply into your emotions or in a rough battle, because on the outside, your body began turn a bluish black with stars scattered around, you began to look like a walking galaxy, and the men who were discussing you paused and just watched in amazement. 

“Ooo I love it when you're angry, now please are you going to use Orion's belt to tie me up like you used to when we were in bed together?” Sukuna chuckled, and now at this point you were fuming and about to bubble over. 

“That’s it, I’ll be on my way, I can’t be troubled to put more time into this, I’ll be back when you’re ready to be serious.” You said now storming off while Sukuna was calling after you. 

“Oh but dollface, the fun was just beginning!” but his words had no effect and you soon opened your eyes to your physical body, removing your hand from Itadoris head, your body now completely back to normal. 

“Thank you Itadori, Gojo, I’ll need somewhere to stay for the time being.” the men just nodded, absolutely dazed by what they just witnessed. 

“Why are you two staring at me?’ You asked shyly, but the only person to respond was Chinami. 

“Y/n, your body turned into a galaxy,” she said, now taking up residency back on your shoulder. 

“Oh what a nuisance, but Gojo, please offer some assistance for a room,” Gojo nodded at you and you two began to walk out. 

You turned to Itadori who was still sitting on his bed, staring at you as you walked away. 

“I will see you soon,” You winked and continued walking out of the room, closing the door behind you. But now you were left with so many questions. Like how are you bringing Sukuna back to your world? Surely you couldn’t do so until Itadori has consumed all of his fingers, which you found absolutely nauseating and surely something you should’ve gotten used to during your hundreds of years of existence but you still couldn’t. 

So what are you to do now? Well I guess you will just have to wait and see.

[justkurotingz]

hold my hand (macdesi)

this was inspired by one of my favorite songs of all time u should REALLY listen to it, it’s underrated and she’s such a talented korean artist. and this was SO hard to write because i strongly dislike this ship, but desi deserves a happy ending too, so this is a macdesi break up fic which features sweet moments between them 🥺

macriley tag list: @zahra-0110 @shutupshanti @sunflowermotel @moodypetrichorlove @multi-fandomshipper101 @miica432 @ariad21 @tilltheworldendsx3 @likeit-or-leaveit

word count: 728 words

“you’re making soup.” mac commented lightly, smelling the dish before he even fully stepped inside desi’s apartment. desi flashed him a half smile, turning back to the pot in the kitchen, stirring it quietly. “yeah, yeah i am mac.” he smiled, moving past the couch to sit at the table, staring at desi while lightly drumming his fingers against the grain of the table.

“you’re late. where have you been?” she asked without looking at him and he raised his eyebrows, releasing a breath. “uh, you know, around.” he answered vaguely and desi laughed.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” she switched the stove off and mac sighed. “i was with boze at his house. and riles, she’s staying at bozer’s for the night.” when desi didn’t respond, mac stood up.

“look if this is about riles, then-” “can i tell you something?” desi turned to face him, her face illuminated under the flickering kitchen light and mac stopped. “yeah. yeah, sure.”

she smiled softly, setting the spoon down and stepping towards mac. “take it.” her voice was soft as she stretched her hand towards him, and seconds later mac’s large hand covered hers. without a word she led him outside her balcony, under the stars. 

they stood in silence, just the two of them in the cool night breeze, staring at the sky. thunder boomed from above as dark rain clouds moved in and desi smiled. “there’s an old vietnamese saying. there’s no rain without clouds. our future’s pretty overcast, isn’t it?”

she turned to him with a smile and somehow, mac was comforted. she understood his thoughts flashed and he knew in that instant that he had made a lifelong friend. “soup’s done. it’s going to pour soon.” minutes after they got inside, lightning flashed and the thunder boomed again.

as desi and mac drank their soup in the kitchen table, the dim light above them set the tone for the conversation that came next. “i haven’t been treating you fairly mac. we both know that.” mac cocked his head with a crooked smile.

“neither have i. i’m not in love with you desi. it’s been a while since i’ve been in love with you. it’s going to be a long time before i love anyone again. losing both oversight and gwen like that... it took a part of me. i need to find that part of me again, and it’s something i’ve got to do alone.”

“i know. finish before the soup turns cold.” she motioned towards his almost empty bowl and he smiled, quickly drinking the rest and setting it in the sink. “what does that proverb mean?” mac asked desi after a second and she grinned.

“a genius like yourself should be able to figure it out. think about it tonight mac. you know nothing’s changed between us, right?” the urge to hug her struck mac. as strong as she was, desi had never looked so vulnerable to mac before.

“i do. i love you, you know that?” mac whispered as desi crossed over to him, wrapping her arms around him. “you’re a really good friend mac.” he held her tightly, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, feeling her heart beat under his.

“i’m proud of you.” she pulled away, smiling brightly at him and mac frowned. “i didn’t do anything.” she simply smiled, trailing behind mac as he moved towards the door. “you came tonight, didn’t you? i think we both knew how tonight would end before it happened. drive safe, i’ll see you monday. i’ll send over your stuff tomorrow.” he grabbed his coat and stepped outside, walking back to his car with a goodbye.

“hey mac?” he turned briefly and she grinned. “i love you too.” with a smile, she closed the door and walked back to her balcony, the starlight twinkling in her eyes. “people say that time goes by. time says that people go by.” she whispered, letting the first drizzle of warm rain drench her body.

“time really flew between us, huh mac?” she traced patterns into the balcony railing and sighed, inhaling the damp earth smell. “goodbye mac.” she went back inside, and unknown to her, in a car a few miles away, he said “goodbye desi.” they both let go.

it looked like the skies were opening up to the fresh start of warm summer rain.

[highsviolets]

which of your fics

i was tagged by my darlings @goldafterglow and @princessxkenobi -- thank you angels, sorry this took a hot minute! 

Did you think would get a bigger reaction/audience than it got?

oh dear. erm. honestly? I have to say anything I write for Luke Skywalker, although my latest drabble got some good traction. It seems like there are Luke lovers out there, and then I write something, and like. nothing happens lmao.

Got a better reaction than you expected?

ooooh this is interesting. I have to say “Steady.” It was the first fic I posted on tumblr, the first x reader fic I had ever written (I’ve been writing for years but never x reader), and the first fic I wrote for Obi-Wan. I had maybe 15 followers at the time and I think it’s still my most popular fic in terms of notes. (please. friends. I’m happy you like it but there is waaaay better writing to be found on my masterlist).

Is your funniest?

warm in heart & spirit!

Is your darkest/angstiest?

most of my poetry is angst so I try to keep that out of my fic. But “give me love (i’ll put my heart in it)” and “wounded sky” are e m o as fuck. 

Is your absolute favorite?

bitch you come into my house?! and make me pick?! you asked a queer bi, i literally can’t pick a gender OR a sexuality.

i love “breathless” because it’s the first time I stepped into my own as a writer. And “el mismo aire” because javi :)) and i think i did a good job of mixing character development and smut lol. 

Is your least favorite?

the mid-shift. another one of my fics that people really liked and i’m not sure why? idk i’m just not an Anakin person.

there are a couple of short ones too — like the clones, or a few requests — that I don’t dislike, I just kinda forget that they exist ha.

Was the easiest to write?

breathless. anything in the breathless-verse is ALWAYS relatively easy for me; writing that fic is like breathing (no pun intended). I wrote the first chapter in the notes app during a car ride on four hours of sleep.

Was the hardest to write?

there’s a reason why i haven’t touched “like real people do” since I posted the first chapter. that was MURDER for me to write.

Has your favorite line/exchange/paragraph? (share it)

He ducks his head to peer at your face, like that first time when you were falling over ((but nothing is like the first time)). as he passes the remainder of the cigarette to you, the words he speak sound like him, carry his weight, refracted starlight from coal. “we all have a duty. even you.” Ben doesn’t need to say his duties; they are his life, his schedule, the notebooks in haphazard stacks under the bed, his tin cups of pens. you wonder if you are part of his list ((if the cables have let you traverse the journey from his heart to his head)).

when you tell him that he is diamond but you a like one of those new gems they make in labs — what are they called — moissanite, he shakes his head. “you are not so scientific, darling.” fingers squeeze yours. “you are burning skies and delimitations and biting stars — the most natural things that exist.”

((you are not sure if you believe him, because nothing is like the first time)).

Have you re-read the most?

ne plus ultra / breathless / el mismo aire

Would you recommend to someone reading your work for the first time?

baby i am so sorry for all the typos lmao.

but read “the sweet secrets of loving” or “dancing in the dark.”  

Are you most proud of?

oh gosh THIS IS SO HARD. but I have to say “ne plus ultra.” I think it’s a lot of my strengths coming together in one piece and it really demonstrates my growth as a writer.

no pressure tags to @justrunamok @profkenobi @huliabitch @anakinswhore + anyone else who wants to hop in on the fun :) 

[golden-deer-dear]

Love of Mine, Chapter 5/5, a Claude x Byleth Fic

Summary:  They were so looking forward to the birth of the first child, but when complications arise, Byleth and Claude must face the fact that their moment of happiness could turn into a tragedy.

Notes:   Uh yeah, so I needed a break from writing kid Byleth and Claude, and decided to just go ahead and finish this. Thank you to everyone who stuck with me through this. Your support means a lot to me.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Read on AO3.

Love of Mine, Chapter 5

Kiana took a deep breath as the gate before her opened and the cheers of the crowd washed over her. As she stepped out into the blazing Almyran sunlight, the cheers reached a fever pitch. They knew what would happen at the end of this fight, and they had already embraced its outcome. Through the care and dedication she had shown her people, they had come to embrace her. 

“I am the King of Almyra, Dowager King of United Fódlan, Hero of the Western Wars, and Blessed of the Green Star! Who are you to challenge me?” 

Her father’s voice cut across the noise of the crowd, declaring the traditional battle cry that came before a coronation, and they waited with bated breath for her answer, despite knowing full well who she was. “I am Queen of a United Fódlan, Archbishop of its faith, Princess to the lands of Almyra, She Who Blessed the West with Water, and Bulwark of a Nation!” 

At her words the crowd shouted again, and she had to wait for them to calm before she could speak once more. “I have come to claim the throne of Almyra! Through birthright I challenge you, and by my strength shall I prove worthy!”

Kiana came on hard and fast, dodging to the side when she felt her father’s axe disturbed the air near her. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest, adrenaline fueling every spell and punch. This fight was her destiny, and she would not fail.

/

“Tear him apart, Kiana!” 

“Uh, Tessa, that is your father down there.”

Tessa rolled her eyes and waved a hand at her in law. “Oh, she knows I don’t mean literally, Hanneman. Besides, that’s your wife!”

“And I’m very proud of her,” Hanneman said, as calmly as they ever did. Cyril and Lysithea’s child, named for the man who had given Lysithea back the years of her life before he passed on, stood at Byleth’s side, watching over the children that played at the former archbishop’s feet.

Tessa’s mother, the revered Byleth, queen of two nations and leader of a religion for many years, seemed so much happier with her burdens removed. Despite the laughter lines around her eyes, and the grey streaking her once rare green hair, she seemed younger sitting there holding Kiana and Hanneman’s third child. The older two, only six and four, had been entertaining each other until their mother appeared. Now they stood with eager faces pressed against the railing of the royal box as they watched their mother and grandfather fight.

Tessa clicked her tongue in distaste and turned, her skirts swirling out around her and transforming her every movement into a dramatic effect. She had long ago learned to wield fashion as effectively as any other weapon available to her. She sank onto a lounge next to her fiance, leaning into the other woman’s side. It wasn’t that she disliked her in law, she just never really saw eye to eye with them. Hanneman was much too business comes first for her taste, but it did make them a good ruler. And her sister loved them, so tolerating their presence was the least she could do.

“Lucina, love, how are you doing? Is there anything I can get you?” Tessa asked as she hooked her arms around one of her fiance’s own. She caught the flash of her mother’s smile out of the corner of her eye, and it warmed her own soul. 

“No.” Lucina shook her head with a smile on her lips. “I’m fine. I’m just reminded of Ferox right now.”

The adventurer in Tessa jumped for joy at the mention of the other kingdom. “You’ll have to take me there when we go back to Ylisse. Father will be fascinated.” The fact that her parents had agreed to go to Ylisse with her when Tessa went back for her marriage only made her more eager to leave. And Byleth seemed very interested in the alternate version of Lucina that had come back in time to fight in a war beside her parents. It was a fascinating topic, but Tessa preferred her version of Lucina. 

It was not that she did not enjoy being in Almyra that made Tessa want to leave, but she knew it would always be there for her to come home to. It was what made Tessa serve so well as her sister’s ambassador. Kiana touched the hearts of their people at home, and Tessa reached out to those beyond their borders. 

“It’s almost over,” Byleth said softly, drawing everyone’s attention back to the fight.

Claude had once been the most feared warrior in Almyra, challenged only by his queen. But his movements had started to slow with age, his grey hair proof of the toll time had exacted upon him. Kiana threw fire from her fists, reading the changes in the air to determine where her father moved. Tessa had to admire Kiana’s fighting style every time she saw it. It was something unique to her sister. Kiana had mastered preparing spells while throwing punches and kicks, releasing their potency right beneath her enemy’s nose. 

Kiana landed a particularly vicious hit across Claude’s jaw, lightning sparking at his flesh as she hit. The King of Almyra hit the floor hard, rising to his feet a minute later with the help of his daughter, all without his crown. No, that belonged to Kiana now. 

Tessa’s beloved older sister was now queen of two countries. 

She leapt up, cheering her sister’s name louder than anyone else in the crowd. Even Hanneman let loose a cry of triumph for their wife. 

And through it all, Byleth smiled, soft and serene, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world. The burdens of leadership were removed from her shoulders, and the joy Tessa saw in those mint green eyes, eyes she had inherited, made her own fill with tears. 

Her mother had sacrificed so much over the years. She deserved to spend the rest of her life proud of her children, spoiling her grandchildren rotten, and spending time with the man she had come back for time and time again.

/

“You’re missing a party.”

Byleth leaned back into Claude’s strong arms as he joined her on the balcony, wrapping her in his warm embrace. Even after all these years, she could still marvel at how wonderful she felt when he held her close. “It is a party for the young, the generation we have passed the world to. Right here, on this balcony with you, is the only place I need to be right now.”

Claude hummed against her hair, his lips kissing the top of her head before he laid his cheek against her. “How did Seteth take the news?”

“He knew. He knew long ago when the first grey hair appeared.” Byleth sighed heavily, a sudden chill going through her. It was the one regret she had about choosing to give up the long life the crest stone in her heart would offer her. She did not want to cause Seteth and Flayn another hurt, but her place was with Claude. “He said he wasn’t sure how I had done it, especially with his blood and Rhea’s in my veins, but didn’t seem surprised.”

“I’d like to know how you did it,” Claude pointed out. “An eternity with you doesn’t sound so bad.”

Byleth smiled and shook her head, turning in her husband’s embrace. Her hand lingered on the bruise across his jaw, softly caressing the marred skin. “We have our own eternity right here. Look.” She took his hand and led him to the center of the balcony where the night sky sparkled up at them as moonlight played on precious gemstones embedded in black stone. They shone brightly, the static sky on the night Claude had purposed, matching the moving stars above. “They’re in the same positions,” Byleth pointed out, lifting her head to look at the heavens.

“Huh. They really are. I lost track of where everything was with Kiana’s coronation.” He swept Byleth back into his arms, swaying gently to a simple melody he began to hum. 

Byleth let him lead the dance, harmonizing with her own tune. She smiled up at him, Claude’s face, no less handsome for the years that weighed upon it, was illuminated by starlight. She knew she would want for nothing else the rest of her years. However many were left, they would all be spent side by side with the man she loved.

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

I FINISHED A FIC! Guys, you have no idea how hard it is for me to finish a multi chapter fic! I am really happy right now!

[no6secretsanta]

Snowflakes and Starlight - pigeonsimba for celebrian

Snowflakes and Starlight

By @pigeonsimba for @aowyn

The snow floats and falls like dandelion fluff on the wind. Shion’s canine escort frisks about in the muddy snowbank just to his left, chomping occasionally at snowflakes that err too close to her eager muzzle. Although the dog looks laughable in moments like this, Inukashi assures him she’s a scrapper when it comes to confrontation. It’s been weeks since the run-in with the Disposers, so Shion isn’t sure he still needs the dog’s protection, but he’s glad to have her company on the solitary walks home from dog washing. He means to name the piebald mutt, but he hasn’t settled on the right one just yet, and he wants to make sure he gets Inukashi’s approval first.

The snow has been constant the last week. There’s so much that Shion is convinced that if you cut the snow banks open like a cake, you’d get a graduated slice, starting from black muck at the bottom, rising to grayed slush, and ending at the sugar white of fresh snow. The layers just beneath the top are fully frozen and treacherous if one doesn’t mind them well. Nezumi reminded Shion that sweet as the snow may seem the first day it comes down, it makes hell out of the ground in the days that follow. It’s especially bad when the snow compounds day after day, hiding the freezing sheets beneath clean coats. It is like walking on a pretty powdered minefield.

Shion picks his way carefully down the dark, narrow lane of the main street where the snow is less dense. This small sliver of road has not been cleared so much as stomped into submission. Though the residents of West Block do have shovels and other rudimentary means of cleaning the snow, they don’t have the luxury of time to do it, nor do they have the temperment. Inclement weather or not, the people trudged on, opening shops, hawking wares, swearing, sweating, and cursing until the dark brought them indoors again. To claim that one can’t perform their regular duties due to dangerous conditions is ludicrous; conditions are chronically dangerous in West Block.

So Shion sets out every other day to wash dogs, and Nezumi goes to the playhouse, or wherever else he gets off to when he isn’t home. It is a way of existence that Shion could never have conceived of in his old life. In No. 6, the streets would have been paved clear within the first hours of snowfall, and icy sidewalks would be a rarity, if not an impossibility. If the meteorologists predicted a winter squall headed their way, the populace would be warned to stay inside, work and class would be canceled, and families would sit inside their warm homes, sipping hot chocolates and watching the elements wail and blur outside their windows.

Shion no longer lives in No. 6, and it’s possible he never will again, but he doesn’t regret his life in West Block. Although he hopes he might be able to see his mother and Safu again one day, he doesn’t miss the city itself. Nothing ever felt real there. West Block, however, is excruciatingly real.

When Shion returns from dog washing, he feels the result of that work in the deep ache of his muscles and the fog of fatigue clouding his brain. And when it snows, he feels the sharp burn of the wind on his cheeks, the searing cold ripping in and out of his lungs, and he appreciates the warmth of his home that much more for it. Pain and discomfort are humbling teachers, and Shion feels blessed to have the chance to learn from them.

The dog hops off the top of the snowbank and into Shion’s path. She flops her thin brown tail and rubs up against his side, nosing his gloved hand. Shion laughs and pauses to give her head a good scratch.

“Sorry, am I walking too slow for you? I know it’s cold.”

The dog chuffs and the vapor ghost of her breath dances skyward. The snow is tapering off, and the fat gray clouds move slowly across the sky to inundate other places. When Shion finishes petting the dog, he gives her flank a pat and continues on. The dog follows along for a few strides but then stops and perks her ears.

“What is it, girl?” Shion sidles a bit closer. His dog escorts rarely dither or pause, so Shion pays special attention when they do.

The dog’s ears swivel, and she turns and trots down a side street. Shion follows without hesitation. He trusts the dog would not lead him into danger, and besides, it doesn’t seem that this alley sees much traffic. Shion’s legs sink mid-calf into the untrod snow and he shivers at the chill pressing at his skin through the fabric of his pants.

The alley lets out onto another street, which lays quiet but for a gray building two doors down. Conversation buzzes from the cracked doorway and Shion can see the faint amber glow of candlelight from the upper windows. The dog stops in front of the building and plops down onto her hindquarters. She gives a light bark and wags her tail.

Shion studies the exterior and realizes that the building is not gray, but faded green, a few shades shoddier than the carpet in the underground room. The snow around the building is heavily trodden, so much that Shion can actually make out the sporadic cobblestones that make up the streets of West Block. Whatever this place is, it’s popular.

Shion glances at the dog, wondering what drew her here. Then, he hears it:

A voice rises above the hubbub and the noise ceases, snuffed like a candle. The voice flutters in song, and though Shion stands outside and the sound is muffled, goosebumps prickle his skin. The song is crisp, clean, and clear, the singer’s timbre pure as the reverberation of struck crystal. Shion closes his eyes and lets the beauty of it wash over him for a moment.

“Nezumi,” he breathes. Shion would recognize that voice anywhere.

He doesn’t recognize the song, though, and after a moment more of listening, Shion rakes his teeth over his lower lip. This must be the playhouse Nezumi works at. Shion had been strictly barred from Nezumi’s performances, and he has never had a chance to seek out the playhouse. But now that he’s here already….

Shion reaches a hand toward the cracked door and glances down at the dog, as if she could advise on whether this is a good idea. The dog stares back with her liquid brown eyes and wags the tip of her tail. Shion figures she must approve, since she led him here, and pushes the door open.

The air inside the entrance is stuffy from the bodies packed into the room beyond. Shion can see the backs of men and women through the open doorway, and the sound of Nezumi’s song floats over their heads like fairy music—Shion can’t help but gravitate toward it.

“Hey!”

Shion jolts. An elderly woman glares at him from behind a small table at the side of the room. Nothing is on the table except her gnarled hands and a dun colored lockbox.

“You got a ticket?” she rasps. The woman looks like an ancient oak tree come to life, and her voice is dry and rough as bark.

“Oh. Uh, no,” Shion says, coloring a little at the raw dislike on her face.

“Got any money, then?”

“Oh! Yes, I…” Shion roots around in his pockets for a few seconds before he remembers he hasn’t been paid yet. Inukashi always pays him at the end of the week, and it’s only mid-week now.

Shion fists his empty hands at his sides and cranes his neck in an attempt to see into the room beyond. Nezumi’s voice tapers off on a sad, sweet note, and the room erupts into claps and cheers.

“Well?” The woman holds out her hand, her fingers curled like the legs of a dead spider.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any money after all.”

“Then get out!”

Shion flinches at her vitriol. He hasn’t closed the door behind him and the cold outside air whispers over the back of his neck.

“But couldn’t I just—”

“No!”

The woman pushes up from her chair with a series of worrying pops and shuffles toward him. Shion backs out the door and the old crone slams it in his face.

He sighs and leans against the wall, as close to the window as he can get. Nezumi has started another song, this one more lively than the last. The spectators inside laugh and clap along.

“Maybe this is the universe telling me I shouldn’t betray Nezumi’s trust?” he asks the dog, who hasn’t moved since she’d parked herself in front of the playhouse. The dog cocks her head at Shion’s question and he gives her a small smile. “Well. Thanks for bringing me here anyway. It’s nice to know where Nezumi works.”

Shion tilts his head back and watches pieces of the night sky peek through the clouds. It looks like they’ll have clear skies tomorrow. Shion’s chest fills with relief; snow has long lost its novelty.

He turns back to the dog. “I think I’m going to wait and walk back with Nezumi. You can go home; I don’t want to make you stay out in the cold.”

The dog’s ears perk and her eyes seem to narrow, as if she’s judging whether he can be trusted to stand against a building without being accosted. Her skepticism reminds him so much of Nezumi that he can’t help but laugh. The dog must decide he can manage well enough alone, because she stands, stretches, and gives his glove a lick before turning back the way they came.

Shion attempts to make a mini snowman while he waits for the night’s performances to end. The top layer of snow is quite powdery, but it holds together in a ball well enough to stack. He hears the gathering break up just as he’s adding the finishing touches: Black pebbles for eyes and two cigarette butts for arms. His slumped and mouthless creation looks more like a warning for the dangers of reckless living than the jolly, happy soul Shion envisioned, but he is proud of it nonetheless.

Shion steps aside as the playhouse door tears open and its occupants elbow their way out. The warm air they carry with them is thick with sweat, alcohol, and the odd whiff of grilled meat. Few pay Shion any mind, but he keeps his gaze low to the ground to avoid attracting the attention of anyone rowdy or drunk enough to begin something over eye contact.

When the last of the patrons files out and disperses into the night, Shion raises his head and peers into the playhouse. Nezumi didn’t come out with the crowd, but Shion hadn’t expected him to. He imagined Nezumi would want to avoid his fans and come out only when they were gone.

He could see into the main room of the playhouse clearly now through the doorway. It’s an open space with no seats that he can see, but the stage at the front is sizeable enough for a play. The stage has only one small spotlight, its bulb still glowing faintly from use. There are no microphones and no orchestra, nor any stage equipment.

Shion waits a few minutes, but Nezumi doesn’t appear. A few minutes more and still no Nezumi, and he decides to brave the crotchety old lady again.

“Um. Hi.” The woman spears him with an acidic leer, but he gives her a close-lipped smile and pushes on. “Has Nezumi left yet?”

“Who?”

“Nezumi? Or, ah, Eve?”

“Oh. Another Eve fanboy,” she scoffs. “No, Eve isn’t here. He left a while ago, secretly, like he always does to avoid hangers-on like you. Now get out!”

Shion pulls the door shut and twists his mouth to the side. He should have guessed Nezumi would have a back way out. If he hurries, maybe he can catch up to him on the path. Shion steps over the trampled corpse of his snowman and heads in the direction of the underground room.

Luck is on his side that night: Once Shion leaves the town behind and is on the lonely path winding its way home, he spots a familiar silhouette ahead.

“Nezumi!”

Nezumi frowns as Shion trots to his side. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m heading back from dog washing.”

“At this hour?”

“Well… I made a detour to the playhouse.” Nezumi’s grey eyes flash as they narrow, but Shion pretends he doesn’t notice and continues, “I waited for you, but you had already left. I caught up, though. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Nezumi echoes dryly and resumes walking. “Where’s your four-legged babysitter?”

“I sent her home. I couldn’t hear you well when you were performing; what songs did you sing?”

Nezumi clicks his tongue. “Some holiday garbage. That’s all the audience wants when it snows. Tis the season and all that.”

“That’s nice,” Shion says with a smile. “No. 6 doesn’t keep a good record of songs from before the Babylon Treaty, but I think there are still a few from Christmastime… The ones about snow, at least.”

No. 6 doesn’t have any holidays apart from Holy Day, and there is nothing cheery about it. No songs, no dancing, and the only decorations allowed are banners of No. 6’s emblem. All celebrations with religious significance, no matter how loosely associated, were done away with when the city-state was established. Still, Shion has a basic understanding of what the holidays had meant to the people who celebrated them more than a decade ago.

“But even though we don’t have the winter holidays anymore,” Shion muses aloud, “I think people still feel their pull… There’s something about the cold that brings people together.”

“Yeah, it’s called fear of freezing to death.”

Shion shoots Nezumi a wry look. “You know I meant in the metaphorical sense,” he sniffs. “Winter… equalizes people. Everyone is affected by the cold—no matter who you are or how you live—and it reminds us that life is precious. And that makes you remember what’s actually important.”

“And that is?” Nezumi prompts as he kicks a snow drift. Powder explodes into their path like fine fog.

“Well, like family,” Shion answers, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And friends.”

“And food, and shelter.”

Shion presses his lips into a line. Nezumi isn’t looking at him—hasn’t been looking at him since they started walking—but the smug amusement in his tone is enough to make his skin itch.

“Oh, but let’s not forget peace on earth, and goodwill to men,” Nezumi chirps. Shion scowls at the sharp edge of his patronizing smile. “Those are very important metaphorical things to cherish this holiday season.”

“Right,” Shion huffs. “Those too.”

Nezumi finally turns to him. “What happened to your good cheer?” he says with mock surprise. “Don’t tell me you’re done waxing poetic. I was really starting to see the vision.”

Shion stops and exhales noisily through his nose. “Why do you always have to pick apart the things I say? It’s childish.”

“Because you always speak carelessly,” Nezumi snorts. “Ninety percent of what you say is fluff—there’s no meaning behind it, no depth. The world is a shitty place, but you always act like everything is just perfect. Talking to you is like staring at that wall:”—Nezumi flings his hand at the shadowed silhouette of No. 6—“Pleasant at face value, but dig a little deeper, and it’s just empty platitudes.”

Shion curls his hands at his sides. The comparison stings, as it always does. Nezumi despises No. 6, and no matter how much Shion tries to assimilate and adapt to his new life, Nezumi never misses an opportunity to remind him that he will always be tainted by his connection with the city. He holds it over Shion’s head like it’s a critical flaw in his personality, drives it like wedge through their relationship and blames Shion when it causes splinters.

Shion hates it. He hates when Nezumi lashes out and criticizes him for being the catalyst, and he hates that Nezumi makes him hate him.

Nezumi lifts his chin and meets his gaze with a knowingness that causes Shion’s skin to feel too tight. 

Nezumi’s mouth twitches up into a smug smile. “Say something worthwhile, and I’ll be glad to listen like an adult.”

Then Nezumi turns and walks away.

Shion leers at his back, blood boiling. He feels small and impotent, and although he knows the feeling will pass and reason will soon be within his grasp again, at present, he wants to harness his anger to lash back at Nezumi. He knows, though, that the West Block resident is impervious to verbal assault, and Shion is no match for him physically.

Shion’s gaze drops to the snow sucking at his ankles. He kneels and packs together two hard, fist-sized snowballs, and stands again. His body buzzes with the sweet anticipation of payback.

“Nezumi!” he shouts, then takes two skipping steps, and launches one of the snowballs.

He means to hit Nezumi square in the back—even with his judgement hazed in irritation, Shion can’t conceive of doing any real harm—but Nezumi twists around, and the snowball hits him perfectly where shoulder meets neck, the edge of it just grazing his chin.

Nezumi freezes as the snowball bursts, its shattered ice crystals clinging like gems to the coal black superfibre cloth around his neck. Shion revels at the shock on his face—only for the triumph blazing in his chest to sputter when Nezumi’s gaze meets his.

Nezumi is always beautiful, but outrage lends an otherworldly element to the sharp planes of his face. His eyes gleam like quicksilver: liquid, cold, and deadly. When Nezumi is like this, Shion can conceive of how people looked upon the mutable gods of old with a commingling of fear and reverence, why even when they knew the price of transgression, they raged and loved and sacrificed for a mere moment of their attention.

Nezumi brushes the snow from his person with fastidious fury, and Shion’s body tingles with an exquisite combination of wonder and dread.

“Shion,” Nezumi says, and takes a step toward him.

Shion chucks the second snowball. It’s a fear-propelled knee jerk reaction to the low warning in Nezumi’s voice, and it’s a mistake. Nezumi sidesteps the missile easily and it evanesces into a snowbank. 

Bereft of projectiles, and with no way to make more as Nezumi approaches, Shion decides to retreat. He flees off the well-trodden path and into the field alongside it. His boots punch through the hitherto undisturbed snow, but it takes an obscene amount of effort to run in the calf-deep drifts, and Shion’s legs burn after only a few strides. Fortunately, Nezumi does not follow him in—probably because he noted Shion’s trouble wading through and does not want to sacrifice his dignity by trudging after him in a slow motion chase.

The mental image brings a smile to Shion’s face. He stops and turns to Nezumi, and they assess each other across the snowy expanse.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Nezumi says. “I’m not going to chase you around. Get back here.”

“You still look mad. I’m not coming out until you’ve calmed down.”

“Now who’s acting childish? You started this.”

Shion cocks an eyebrow. “Debatable.”

Nezumi’s gaze sweeps over the field dividing them, trying to gauge if it might be surmountable after all. The intense aura about him has the same energy as that of a cat surveying a fishbowl. Shion laughs and Nezumi’s eyes flick back up. His mouth tilts mulishly and he takes a step into the snow.

Shion readies to turn and flee again, but the snow holds onto his foot when he tries to lift it and the boot gets caught on the side of his other leg. A squeak of surprise slips from Shion’s throat as he pitches backward and lands with a crunchy whump in the snow. His breath whooshes out and clouds above his head.

Nezumi appears above him a moment later. “Klutz,” he scoffs, but his brow is pinched in concern.

Shion stares up at the blue-black sky and pulls a slow, silent breath through his parted lips. The clouds have migrated somewhere else, and the stars shimmer in their place. Calm washes over him, muting the icy press of the snow against his skin and banishing every thought. There is only the epiphany of now, of this single moment, and the infinity of stars above him.

“Shion?”

Shion grabs Nezumi’s pant leg and tugs. “Lie down.” He doesn’t take his gaze from the sky.

“What? No.”

“You have to see this.” Shion gives Nezumi’s pant cuff another tug and drops his hand back to his side. “You won’t regret it.”

Shion’s eyes find the moon, and he stares until he can see the specter of the luminescent circle on the back of his eyelids every time he blinks.

Nezumi growls under his breath, and the snow shifts as he drops down beside Shion. He’s sitting, not lying down, but Shion takes it as a victory nonetheless. “I already regret this. It’s freaking cold.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“What?” Nezumi mutters, incredulous. “The stars?”

“Yes.” Shion swallows. “There are so many of them.”

“…You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

“No.”

“It does, however, occur to me,” Nezumi says slowly, “that even if you did hit your head, I might not be able to tell the difference. You speak nonsense either way.”

Shion sighs. “I’ve lived my whole life under this sky, and I’ve never once appreciated the stars.”

“Is that a poem of some sort? Shion, really, what are you talking about?”

“This!” Shion flings his hand skyward. “This is exactly what I was talking about. This is what’s important, appreciating the things around you. I never did that when I lived in No. 6.”

In No. 6, life is led with your shoulders hunched and your eyes no higher than government mandate. You take the job the city thinks you’re good for, go where you’re told to go, and you don’t dare run your mouth for fear of saying the wrong thing. Shion had lived sixteen years like a machine, and although he was never satisfied, he convinced himself he was at least content.

Then he was torn from that world of paranoia and monotony and thrown into West Block, the polar opposite of the Holy City. West Block is loud, dirty, lawless, unmonitored—freeing.

For the first time in his life, Shion doesn’t have to hold his feelings in; he can speak truthfully, and he might be disagreed with, but he can disagree right back and there is no penalty for doing so.

That’s why Shion talks so much. That’s why he tends toward happy and idealistic. Because he can finally speak his mind. He’s finally free to think and imagine and desire things for himself, and sometimes he can’t help but get carried away with the wonder of it.

Shion shakes his head. “I was so busy keeping my head down, I never noticed everything I was missing. I mean… Look at the world we live in.”

The wind whispers through the barren trees, trailing icy dust in its wake like gossamer threads. The stars wink in and out of focus in the silken blackness. Somewhere down the way, a wooden door creaks, followed by children’s laughter. Shion and Nezumi lie still in the midst of a vast snowscape, but life flows on around them, unconcerned with their participation.

“It’s beautiful. Not perfect,” Shion says softly, and turns to meet Nezumi’s gaze, “but still beautiful. Don’t you think?”

The expression Nezumi wears now is one that Shion has seen more and more as of late. Nezumi is not so much looking at him, as into him, as if he is desperately trying to reconcile what Shion’s saying with who Nezumi thinks Shion is. It’s a consternation reserved for magic tricks and puzzle boxes with no discernable seams.

Shion’s not sure why Nezumi has such a hard time figuring him out, but he enjoys when he makes Nezumi consider him more seriously.

“I guess,” Nezumi huffs at last.

“Thank you for acknowledging it,” Shion says with a smile.

“At this point, I’ll agree to any of your harebrained notions if it means we can get up and go home. My ass is freezing.”

“Alright,” Shion laughs. “Since you were good enough to humor me.”

Shion peels himself from the ground. His hair is cold and wet from lying so long and a shiver judders down his spine.

Nezumi brushes off the back of his pants with a sour look. When he’s done, he glances up and frowns. “Shion, you have something on your shoulder.”

“Hm?” Shion tilts his head to look.

A snowball smashes into the side of his face and Shion stumbles back a step. He turns, mouth agape.

“What, did you think I wouldn’t pay you back?” Nezumi says pleasantly. He tosses a snowball up and down in his left hand—the glove of his right is slick from the first he pegged Shion with.

Shion has no idea how Nezumi made two snowballs without him noticing, but he realizes he’s in danger.

Nezumi stops juggling the snowball and smirks. “You know how I am with debts.”

“Right.” Shion swallows. Icy droplets slip down the collar of his coat and melt into his sweater. “You got me. We’re even.”

Nezumi’s smirk morphs into a genuine smile. “Oh, but I don’t think you appreciated the snow nearly enough when you were in No. 6. Here, let me help you with that.”

“Hey—” The second of Nezumi’s throws hits Shion in the nose. He coughs and swats the snow out of his face. “Nezumi, no more. This is too much revenge—I only hit you once!”

“Not my fault you’re a lousy shot.” Nezumi walks backwards toward the path home. “By all means, hit me again. If you can manage it, that is.”

“Tempting,” Shion calls.

But as he joins Nezumi on the path, he decides it’s not worth retaliating. A hundred new tangents and observations are already queued on his tongue, and he wants to get Nezumi’s reluctant opinion on all of them.

[eliniei]

Not As It Seems XX

Summary: Emet-Selch whisks the Warrior of Light away to another shard to celebrate Valentione's Day.

A/N: This dress. I had so much fun writing this one. I am honestly very proud of it. I hope you like it as well :3

As always, thanks to Crystal for proofreading <3Please, if you have any one-shots you'd like to see from me that fit in with this series or not, please let me know :3

Word Count: 4463

Masterlist: here Ao3: here

Warnings: NSFW

I stood at the granite counter in my kitchen, a finger tapping against my chin in thought. Laid out on the surface before me were various blocks of melting chocolate- both milk and white. I pouted my lips slightly as I debated what I wanted to make.

Did he even like sweets?

Surely, it didn’t matter what I made for him, right? 

He seemed to prefer homemade gifts. Or, at the very least, he didn’t seem to dislike the things I had shared with him.

Call it my own stubbornness, but this time I wanted it to look nice. My thoughts traveled back to the crude, unrefined snowflake I’d made for him out of electrum for the Starlight Celebration and pursed my lips. It had been quick work, and a little sloppy. 

This time...

I peered up at the chronometer on the nearby wall and crossed my arms over my chest, heaving a deep sigh out of my nose. He would be back soon, no doubt. If he didn’t stay the whole day in my rooms, or my house, he always seemed to appear at sunset and if I wanted to surprise him, I had better get moving. 

My gaze slid back to the ingredients on the counter for a long moment before I stepped forward, reaching in a cabinet underneath for a saucepan, two glass bowls, and the stack of food molds I had collected over my years of cooking. 

I filled the pan with water and set it on a front burner, flipping the switch so that it started to warm. I pulled a knife out of its block and began chopping the chocolate, putting them in their respective bowls. 

Once the water had been brought to a simmer, I placed the bowl of milk chocolate on top and stirred it with a spoon in one hand so that it melted evenly, the other hand rifling through the different molds. 

I pursed my lips as I surveyed each, setting aside two halves of a small, spherical container and a metal plate, roses imprinted on its surface. My fingers paused on a mold in the shape of a heart and I eyed it carefully.

Should I…?

There was definitely a connection- no matter how hard we tried to deny it. No matter how hard the both of us tried to hide our affections deep down inside of us, they always seemed to find their way to the surface. 

We didn’t love each other, of course- we couldn’t, not truly - not as long as we stood on opposite sides of the battlefield with Zodiark whispering in his ear and Hydaelyn in mine, but this...what we had now was close, wasn’t it?

I sighed again, setting the heart down. I removed the bowl of chocolate, replacing it with the white. 

It was the symbol of Valentione’s day, though. Surely he would understand that, right? I didn’t want to scare him away.

...Not that I could really scare an Ascian.

I didn’t want him to pull away from me, no matter what the Scions thought. No matter what the Exarch thought. 

As the white chocolate began to melt, I positioned the heart mold in front of me and poured the milk chocolate into it. I spread it around the bottom until it was even throughout, then pushed it aside to fill the sphere, turning the container around until the chocolate coated every ilm with a thin layer.

When the white chocolate was melted and smooth, I poured half of it into the heart, the rest filling the rose mold.

A while later, as I was arranging the cooled and hardened chocolate on a decorative plate, I heard the hum of his portal, his boots on the floor. I heard the hinges of the door squeal as he swung it open. When I turned, I found Emet-Selch leaning against the frame with his arms crossed as he watched me.

Immediately, his eyes travelled to the sweets behind me and he raised a brow, inquiring without even opening his mouth. 

I looked over my shoulder at it and breathed an unsteady laugh. I had planned on remaining indifferent when I gave it to him. And it was not as if I hadn’t given him gifts before, not that I hadn’t cooked for him before. Why was I suddenly so nervous?

“It’s-”

“Chocolate,” he finished for me. “Yes, hero, I can see that.”

“Well, I was testing something,” I began, trying to explain. “And I-”

“Does this have anything to do with the fact that your Eorzean Valentione’s day is tomorrow?” he teased me, brow still raised, but a playful smile spreading across his face. The look made me flush.

“No, I-” I spun around, trying to hide the red tinge to my cheeks. “I was merely bored so, I thought we could share-”

He chuckled and I cringed. I knew I wasn’t convincing in the least.

“If you insist, my dearest hero.” I heard him shift off of the doorframe, his steps slow and calculated as he made his way to me. My heart rate spiked when one of his arms snaked around my middle, the other reaching for the very tip of the heart I’d molded. He broke it off easily, raising it over my shoulder and to his mouth. After taking a bite, he lifted the last bit to my lips. 

I tensed and he breathed a laugh into my ear, causing a chill to run up my spine. 

“Come now,” he admonished. “You did say you wanted to share.” 

I swallowed audibly, but let my mouth drop open wide enough for him to slip the chocolate onto my tongue, fingers lingering on my bottom lip for a long moment before lightly travelling down my neck, down my arm, and joining his other hand at my waist. 

He pulled me against him, nose running up the length of my ear. My eyelids fluttered shut, a small whimper escaping my mouth as I relaxed into him.

Oh, how utterly fast my resolve broke when I was in his arms. 

“Now, I have something for you,” he breathed, placing a solitary kiss at the hairline behind my ear. “I left a dress in the bedroom. Come find me when you’ve finished putting it on.” I hummed in affirmation before he pulled back, arms releasing me from his grasp as he turned, heading for the door again. I pouted, but followed, turning to walk upstairs.

“Oh, and hero,” he called back to me. I paused and looked over my shoulder, watching as he made his way to the front room. “Do be sure to put on everything I have chosen.” I furrowed my brow but nodded my head and continued up the stairs.

When I reached the bedroom, my eyes immediately went to the dress, carefully set on a mannequin near my bed. It was a floor-length party dress, turquoise in color, with a sheer, intricately beaded bodice that clasped around the neck with a collar of the same design, the back dipping to the middle and fastened with buttons, the skirt a delicate satin that trailed on the floor in the back. The shoes that sat on the floor next to the dress matched the color almost precisely. 

My curiosity piqued, wondering just exactly where he was taking me this time.

I walked up to the outfit, fingers trailing along the soft material when I noticed something glinting on the blanket of my bed. My eyes slid to it, realizing he had also chosen jewelry for me to wear. Bracelets and earrings made of gold, studded with some sort of black stone- diamond, perhaps. 

I froze, however, at what was laid out next to the jewelry, my eyes widening and my cheeks burning anew as his last words to me echoed in my mind. 

Do be sure to put on everything I have chosen .

I huffed an incredulous laugh with a shake of my head and when I had recovered from my shock, reached for the black lace.

When I emerged downstairs, the satin hissing around my feet as I walked, the Ascian was lounging on my couch, lazily swirling a glass of brown liquid in his hand as he stared into the fireplace. I paused on the bottom step, crossing my arms over my chest and raising a brow at him.

I saw the hint of a smile cross his lips as if he could read my mind and he took a sip of his drink.

“Ready, hero?” he asked, turning his head slightly to gaze at me. 

“You haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“Mm,” he hummed in amusement when I refused to comment on his choice of undergarments and stood from his seat, setting the glass down on the side table. “I thought I would treat you to dinner.” He stepped up to me, lifting a black shawl off the back of a chair on his way. I bit my lip as my eyes dragged up is body, his normal clothes replaced with a suit, the bowtie matching the dress I wore, his cufflinks inlaid with the same black stones. 

When he unfolded the shawl and lifted it,I released my lip, one side of my mouth tugging upward and I turned, letting him lay it across my shoulders. I folded it in front of me as I spun back and he held his hand out to me. 

I slid my fingers into his and, with a smug smile, he pulled me through a portal. 

To a place I did not recognize in the slightest.

I surveyed my surroundings. We stood in an alley between two brick buildings. A city, most likely, judging by their closeness and height. Sounds of merriment traveled along the air to us, but also sounds I did not recognize. Mechanical, I assumed. Something not natural.

“Are we on another shard?” I asked him, poking my head out and into the sidewalk. 

“The same as before,” he confirmed, threading my arm through his. “The masquerade.” I nodded.

“No magic,” I recalled.

“No magic,” he repeated and tugged on my arm, leading me out of the alley and around the corner to a large, windowed restaurant front. 

When we were inside and seated at a table, I ogled the interior as a waiter came to set menus and utensils in front of us before attending to his other charges. Nearly every table was occupied, parties animatedly chatting with each other, completely unaware that they were in the presence of two people from a completely different world. 

“Something amusing you?” he asked me as he unfolded his menu. I huffed a laugh, the smile already on my face widening.

“It’s just...different, is all,” I mused, eyes sweeping over the couples and families once more. “I’m surprised you were able to get a table.” The Ascian shrugged his shoulders. 

“I may have...planned this ahead of time,” he freely admitted and my brows shot up. “This world has a similar...celebration, on the very same day. In fact, the name is nearly identical. Valentine’s.” He lifted his glass of iced water and took a sip, scanning the restaurant as well. “But coming tomorrow would be more inconvenient.” 

I followed his example and opened my menu, though the words were…

“Never fear, hero,” he assured me, noticing my perplexion. The waiter arrived again and Emet-Selch expertly ordered for the both of us. I handed my menu off with a smile, then folded my hands on the table.

“So,” I started. “Why this shard?” He hummed as he examined me, leaning his cheek into his palm. 

“I find that I enjoy foods more when they are made by hand instead of magic.” A sly smile spread across my lips, to which he clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. Our server arrived once more with a bottle of wine. 

“Wipe that smirk off of your face, Warrior of Light,” he ordered after the man had left once more. “It doesn’t become you to gloat .”

I giggled and, as I raised my glass, I saw the beginnings of a smile forming on his mouth, regardless of his annoyance. 

After we had eaten, he led me back to the alley. It had been a nice night, loathe as I was to admit. He opened a portal, but before I could step through it, he caught my elbow in his gloved hand. I paused and turned back to him, a question in my eyes.

“Would you...be kind enough to escort me to one more place this evening?” he asked me. My mouth parted in surprise- usually, he did not deign to ask me as opposed to just telling me I was going whether I wanted to or not.

After overcoming my shock, I breathed a laugh and nodded my head, wrapping my arm around his, then we both stepped through together.

My eyes widened when we appeared on the other side and I dropped his arm, stepping forward in amazement. 

We stood at the edge of a cliff, a quiet sea lying still yalms and yalms below us. And above us-

Thousands of stars, twinkling in the deep blue of the night sky, a nearly full moon illuminating the ground we stood upon. 

My breath caught as I took it all in. 

Behind me, Emet-Selch hummed. I turned to find him watching me instead of the sky, a soft smile on his face. I grinned widely and nearly pounced on him, no matter the length of my dress. He easily caught me around the waist, holding me against him, my feet an ilm or two off the ground, as I threw my arms around his neck, pressing my lips to his excitedly. He chuckled, the vibration against my mouth causing bumps to rise along my arms.

He eased me to the ground, slowly sliding me down his body before releasing my waist and pulling his lips from mine. He lifted one hand to me.

“Would you care to dance?”

“Dance?” I asked incredulously, raising a brow. “With what music?”

That smug smile appeared on his face again as he snapped the fingers he was holding out to me. 

When I heard the sweet, quick tune of a violin, I perked up immediately, taking a swift look around, but found...nothing. His magic, then.

With an amused roll of my eyes, I put my hand in his. Immediately, his other and slid around my waist and he launched us into a fast waltz, in time with the phantom music. 

His brows rose, mild surprise crossing his features as he watched me move easily with him. 

“You-,” he started. “You learned to dance.”

I shrugged, unable to keep the smile from my lips as I averted my eyes to his chest. “Maybe I...enjoyed myself last time.”

He paused and I could feel his eyes still on me as I focused on the buttons of his white shirt. Releasing my hand, he moved his fingers under my chin and tilted my head up. I flushed as his eyes searched mine for a moment before he leaned into me, pressing his lips to mine. I inhaled sharply as his mouth moved against mine, slowly and gently.

Both of his hands went around my back, mine hooking under his arms as we pressed ourselves against each other, deepening the kiss as we took our time, drawing it out until the music had slowed and our breathing was heavy. 

When he broke away from my lips, he continued holding me close, slowly swaying to the sound of the violin. 

I would be content to stay like this forever, I thought. But…

“Why do you...treat me so well?” I asked him once my breathing had calmed, the smile fading from my mouth. “We’re supposed to hate each other.”

“It is true that up until recently you have been nothing but a thorn in my side,” he mused. “But, I find myself…” When his words trailed off, I looked up to him again, his eyes focused off the cliff, on the water. I opened myself to inquire further, but he sighed and turned his gaze back to me. “I find myself comforted by you, for some reason or another.” I huffed a laugh, finding myself of the same mind.

“But this…,” I began again, motioning to the cliff, the sky, the water with one hand. “You’ve shown me so many wonders and given me so much in the short amount of time we’ve known each other...I hardly think the little things I do for you warrant this kind of treatment.” He hummed again as he considered my words.

“One could argue that because of you, I have experienced things I otherwise would not have.”

“And you fought me every step of the way,” I reminded him with a scoff, returning my arm to where it had previously been. He huffed a laugh with a small nod. 

“Then maybe, hero, the pleasure of your company is enough to make me want to do these things.”

His words stayed my tongue, any jab I would make to him lost, and I watched him for a long moment, examining his face. He leaned down again, pressing a short kiss to my lips before straightening again, moving one hand to cradle the back of my head. At his insistence, I rested my cheek against his chest and closed my eyes, letting the music and the gentle sound of his heartbeat lull me.

After a few minutes, the song began to drift away on the slight breeze. The sound was replaced by crackling wood and I opened my eyes again to find that we were now standing, once more, in my bedroom.

I lifted my head from his chest and he released me, shrugging out of his suit jacket and moving to lay it on the chair at my desk. 

“Did you have a good time tonight, hero?” he asked quietly. I looked over to him, a soft smile on my mouth as I nodded. 

“It was really...amazing,” I answered with a happy sigh. “Thank you.”

He stepped up behind me, fingers trailing up the length of my arms as he dipped his head down to my ear, nuzzling it lightly with his nose. Immediately, the comfortable quiet of the room shifted, the air around us becoming electrifying. 

“Now, how about we get you out of these clothes?” he breathed. An exhilarated shiver ran up my spine and I bit my lip to contain the noise that rose up my throat. 

I felt one of his hands sink into my hair, pulling out the pins that held it up. I closed my eyes and let my head bob with his movement. The locks began cascading down my back in waves, and when the last pin was out, he pushed them over one shoulder so he could deftly unfasten the clasp at the back of my neck.

He drew his fingers down the length of my spine then, to unfasten the buttons at my lower back. Another chill followed in the wake of his hand, my back straightening as bumps rose along my arms. His lips dragged across my shoulder as he unbuttoned the dress at an achingly slow pace, leaving nothing more than a whisper of a kiss on my skin over every ilm. 

He spun me around as he began peeling the bodice off of my body, revealing the black lace camise hidden underneath, following the cut of the dress he’d chosen perfectly, as well as matching pantalettes.

When the skirt of the dress slid off of my hips and onto the floor, he sat back on the bed, eyes roving my body hungrily. 

I felt my cheeks grow hot under the intensity of his gaze, unused to the way he was looking at me. I wrapped my arms around my body in embarrassment, a paltry attempt to hide myself from the ravenous look it his eyes. 

In truth, I’d never...worn anything like this-

He leaned forward, reaching for my hands, guiding me onto the bed and to straddle his lap. He took my face in both hands, one thumb stroking my red cheek, and pulled me close to him, eyes locking with mine. I stared into them, eyes wide. 

“Magnificent,” he whispered, his lips so close I could feel the movement. That simple word broke something open inside of me, assuaging my fears, my confidence beginning to return to me.

Leave it to an Ascian , of all people, to make me feel shy . 

A whimper escaped me as he pressed his mouth to mine. I wound my arms around his neck, pressing my chest to his as I returned his sentiment with fervor, easily and willingly opening my mouth to him. 

He reached behind me, slipping his gloves off and letting them fall to the floor before sliding both of his hands under the top of my lace smallclothes. I shuddered at the feel of his skin against mine, and I ground my hips down into his, his increasing desire made apparent to me. 

I moaned quietly against his mouth and I felt his lips curl into a smile.

“Excited, are we?” he whispered without pulling away. His fingers trailed along my skin before inserting itself between us, his thumb brushing over the peak of my breast. When it hardened in his hand, he took the nipple between his fingers, twisting it gently. 

I tore my lips from his with a sharp gasp, my back arching. He began leaving a line of wet kisses down my throat, his heavy breathing hot against my skin, stopping at the top of the camise. He hummed in annoyance and snapped his fingers, our remaining clothes disappearing. 

“Beautiful it may be,” he said between kisses. “But it was most certainly in the way .” 

I tried to laugh, but another whimper slipped out instead as his lips reached my other breast, placing a single kiss on it before taking it into his mouth. 

One of my hands went behind his head, fisting in his hair as his tongue flicked against my nipple, his other hand kneading the soft flesh on the opposite side. 

As he continued his ministrations, the heat in my abdomen continued building until it was nearly unbearable and I began moving against him, teasing him with the slickness between my legs. I moved my hips in a circular motion, rubbing the tip of his arousal against the bundle of nerves at my apex with every pass. 

Finally, he pulled his mouth from my breast, and in one sweeping motion, ran his tongue from the dip of my collarbones up to the tip of my chin. 

“Inside,” he growled, low and urgent, the rumble of his chest exciting me further. I acquiesced, reaching down between my legs, spreading myself wide with two fingers, and lowering myself onto him until he was fully seated inside of me. He groaned as I sucked in a sharp breath, his hands finding purchase on my hips. 

He gripped them, guiding my movements and my pace. At his silent insistence, I began undulating into him slowly. He wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me tightly against his chest. I pressed my forehead against his as my breathing picked up, mingling with his, my arms winding around his neck once more.

After a few minutes, his hands travelled further down my thighs, pulling my calves out from under me where I knelt and wrapping them around his waist so I sat in his lap instead. He hummed, pressing his lips against mine once more as he began lifting his hips into mine.

I tightened my legs around him, pushing him deeper inside of me, causing a low moan to rise out of his throat at the feel of me around him. My arms hooked under his, hands grasping his shoulders as I pressed myself down against him, meeting his every measured thrust. 

His tongue forced its way into my mouth as his speed picked up, craving more and more. 

My soft whimpers and moans increased in volume, quickly turning to cries as he began hitting the spot deep inside of me repeatedly. I broke away from his mouth, burying my face in the crook of his neck as I grew closer and closer to my end, fingernails digging into his skin as I began to lose myself. 

He hissed at the bite of pain, but he throbbed inside of me, the feeling quickly pushing me over the edge. I shuddered violently, tightening around him. His arms clamped around me in an attempt to hold me still as I rode out the waves of my climax. 

At the sound of my pleasured cries, he seemed to turn feral, hips rising frantically until he found his end as well, thrusting into me with an unsteady groan. 

His head dropped onto my shoulder, slumping against me as we sat in silence, moving only to pull himself out of me, the only sound between us our heaving breaths.

Finally, he lifted his head, examining my face carefully. He raised a hand and brushed a lock of sweat-dampened hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ear before gently cupping my face. I leaned into his touch, placing my hand over his, and closed my eyes. 

“Thank you,” I whispered, turning my head to place a reverant kiss on his palm, before wrapping my arms around his neck, tightly hugging him to me. He tensed for a moment before I felt the fingers of one of his hands running along the skin of my back.

“For?” he asked me, quietly, and I did not miss the hint of sadness in his voice. 

I wondered, then, how long had it been for him, since there was someone truly grateful for him? How many thousands of years had passed since someone had thanked him simply for being there and meant it?

My arms loosened around him as I pulled back, lips curling into a smile before pressing my forehead to his. 

“For you,” I breathed.

I didn’t need to hear him reciprocate. I didn’t need to hear gratitude for my words. 

I found that the sound of his breath hitching was all I needed to know that he understood my words. That he believed them. That maybe...he felt the same about me. 

His fingers found my chin, tilting it up so my lips met his in a soft, chaste kiss before I pulled away, taking his hand and playfully tugged him from the bed to the bathing room to get cleaned up.

[lavender-hemlock]

Never-ending survey: Haine

RULES: Repost, do not reblog. Tag 10 blogs!

tagged by: @violet-warder, @captainkurosolaire, @kyrie-silverwings, @lareine-kira  - Thank you! tagging: @kazexvoss, @fair-fae, @hingan-fox, @trc-xiv, @lightdevoid, @ofloveandaether, @ember-arrow, @finishing-touch, @card-and-flame, @caewen-ffxiv, @palaceofthedeadmemes, @aurorahawklight, @lulu-ffxiv. 

BASICS.

FULL  NAME :  Haine Reverent

NICKNAME : Lav, Lilac, Reverent. 

AGE :  27

BIRTHDAY : 7th Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon

ETHNIC  GROUP : Hyur (Midlander)

NATIONALITY : Ishgardian (?)

LANGUAGE / S :Common, sparse allagan 

SEXUAL  ORIENTATION : Pansexual

ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION : Heteromantic.

RELATIONSHIP  STATUS :  Single.

HOME  TOWN / AREA :  Ishgard

CURRENT  HOME :  Shirogane, small. 

PROFESSION : Smuggler, Black Market Trader. 

PHYSICAL.

HAIR : Naturally brown, dyed lavender/lilac. Mid-back length. 

EYES : Gold. Typically half-lidded as though bored.  

FACE : Stoic with flickers of amusement, or suddenly smug. 

LIPS : Full

COMPLEXION : Porcelain.

BLEMISHES : Birthmark on her lower left hip.

SCARS : Claw marks from the underside of her mid-forearm from a Torama. Bullet wound in her right thigh’s outter side. 

TATTOOS :  N/A

HEIGHT :  5′5

WEIGHT : Average.

BUILD : Lithe. 

FEATURES :  Piercing eyes, round nose, and heart shaped face. 

ALLERGIES :  None.

USUAL  HAIR  STYLE :  Typically left alone to hang down her backside freely. Known to tie it up or into a braid when she knows things are going to get tough. 

USUAL  FACE  LOOK :  Eyeliner along the topside. 

USUAL  CLOTHING :   Casual. Tucked in blouses, button-up shirts, trousers, and knee-high boots. Haine typically takes a leather/lace approach. She looks more like a fencer than a caster. Sharp nails. 

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S : Revealed truths, loss (platonic, relationship, etc.) 

ASPIRATION / S :  To craft the most elaborate and devastating poison, and create a cure for that poison. 

POSITIVE  TRAITS : Perceptive, analytical, adaptive, cunning. 

NEGATIVE  TRAITS : Stubborn, temperamental, suspicious, arrogant. 

MBTI : INFJ

ZODIAC  / (Guardian) : Libra /  Halone, the Fury

TEMPERAMENT :  Choleric

SOUL  TYPE / S : The Mage

ANIMALS :  Cat. 

VICE HABIT / S :   Substance abuse - Drugs, smoking. Drinking. Curiosity. 

FAITH :  She lost her belief long ago. 

GHOSTS ? : Yes.

AFTERLIFE ? : Not really.

REINCARNATION ? :  No. 

ALIENS ? :  No. 

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : She believes any government is corrupt either at the top or all throughout the hierarchy. 

EDUCATION  LEVEL :  Educated. Haine was raised with special tutors to ensure she had the finest upbringing in the arts of etiquette. All put to waste. 

FATHER : Aevar Valenthe. Last child of the Valenthe name, noble merchant. Deceased. 

MOTHERS :  Danica Valenthe. Daughter of the Silbyrn family, disowned. Unknown if alive or deceased. 

SIBLINGS : None. 

EXTENDED  FAMILY : Her mother was disowned from her family upon running off with Haine’s biological father due to status of wealth. On her father’s side, no family members were ever mentioned. 

NAME MEANING / S : Ianthe - Purple flower.

HISTORICAL  CONNECTION ? : No.

FAVORITES.

BOOK :  Old and dusty tomes of ancient civilizations. Ancient magic. 

DEITY : None.

HOLIDAY :  Starlight. 

MONTH : October.

SEASON :  Winter.

PLACE : Home among the comforts of books, bedding, and plants alike. 

WEATHER : Cloudy, overcast. 

SOUND / S: Rolling thunder and crashing waves. 

SCENT / S :  Black rum, mint, leather. 

TASTE / S :  Coffee, chocolate, rum. 

FEEL / S :  Fur. 

ANIMAL / S :  Coeurls, cats, dogs, owls. 

NUMBER : 7, 13. 

COLORS : Purple, gold, green. 

EXTRA.

TALENTS : Guessing/gambling, quick learner, silver-tongued. 

BAD  AT :  Maintaining balance when it matters, trust. 

TURN  ONS : Piercing eyes, calm/suave personality, confidence, rugged exterior, soft exchanges. 

TURN  OFFS : Attention seeking, whiny, clingy. 

HOBBIES : Alchemy, gardening, reading, traveling. 

TROPES : True Neutral, Career Criminal, Lovable Rogue, Magician. 

QUOTES : “I am a remnant of my past, and a manifestation of who I must be.” 

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 :  If you could write your character your way in their own movie,  what would it be called,  what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?          

A1 :  Reverent Ties. It would probably have a dramatic air of sudden drama, action, or empathy. The movie would be about the main basis of Haine’s origin and how she deals with resolving it. 

Q2 :  What would their soundtrack/score sound like?          

A2 :  A roll of piano keys that plays along side a music box during flashbacks of her childhood despite the darker themes. Violin scores during most of the present time themes. 

Q3 :  Why did you start writing this character?          

A3 :   There’s no easier way to put this- I wrote Haine to be a better version of myself 10+ years ago. Haine has existed in several universes, led so many lives, and has so many stories to tell. She is my pride and joy in the writing I love. In FFXIV, Haine has taken her own path that separates from me, and I’m happy about it. I had already grown to be strong like her. 

Q4 :   What first attracted you to this character?          

A4 : Haine is my go to in every new thing I dive into. She’s my comfort pick that evolves and continues to remain the most complex thing I create. She never grows old for me, and I just love her. The only thing similar each time she is reborn? Her lavender hair. 

Q5 :  Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5 : Hrm.. I would have to say her fickle attitude towards people. It makes some match-ups hard. She can either be loving and welcoming if her heart is provoked, or she can be a viper. My child is just angry, it’s nothing personal. 

Q6 :  What do you have in common with your muse?          

A6 : Haine and I share the ability to be empathetic. It can be the one way to feel, and the main way to understand. See past the lines and feel what the other feels. Be what you need to. 

Q7 :   How does  your muse feel about  you?          

A7 :  Haine probably feels proud, but annoyed with me. I think my muse is still the personification of strength in several ways. She would probably criticize me for the moments I falter, but encourage me more than anything to keep going. 

Q8 :  What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ?        

A8 : Haine has had quite a few interesting interactions. There are characters that bring out her best- and characters that bring out her worst. It’s fun to me to see how she is influenced as a true neutral character and how morally grey she can be. 

Q9 :  What gives  you inspiration  to write  your muse ?        

A9 :  A lot of music ranging from piano, violin, or OSTs from movies. Deep characters with complex emotions. 

Q10 : How long did this take you to complete ?          

A10 : I started this probably... four days ago? I got sick, and this was sitting in my drafts. I’m still sick, but I figured I might as well kick this out the door. 

[obsidian-informant]

★ huhuhu

Here’s how I feel about you, Starlight~

I like you / I hate you / I dislike you/ I love you / You are family / I would take a bullet for you / I would shoot you / I would lie to your face / I would say something cruel to you on purpose / I would say something cruel to you accidentally  / I would cheat on you / I would physically hurt you / You annoy me/ You amuse me / I’d laugh at you / I’d laugh with you / I’d manipulate you / You scare me / You confuse me / I wish I knew you better / I trust you / I don’t trust you / You inspire me / I consider you an equal / You are beneath me / You’re better than me / I would trust you with my life / I think you’re mean / I think you’re petty / I think you’re childish / I think you’re smart / I think you’re stupid / I think you’re a bad person / I think you’re a good person / I’m not sure what kind of person you are / I wish you would listen to me / I want to make you proud / I wish you would notice me / I want to impress you / I would hurt other people for you / I’m not sure how to make you happy / I’m a bad influence on you / You deserve better than me / We make a great team / I’d have a one night stand with you / I’d have a relationship with you / I would marry you / I fantasize about our life together / I would trust you with my most treasured belonging / I would tell you my darkest secrets / You disgust me / You intimidate me / I hope I intimidate you / I’d hug you / I’d let you hug me  / I’m scared of losing you / I don’t think you like me / I want to be better for you / I respect you / I don’t respect you / You’re my mentor / You’re my friend / You’re my best friend / I have a crush on you / I could easily watch you die / I’d get drunk with you / I’d party with you / I’d comfort you / I’d prank you / I’d spike your drink / I’d act behind your back / I’d abandon you / I’d hurt you to get what I want / I would choose my happiness over yours / I would choose your happiness over mine / I despise how much I care for you / I need you / I’m dependent on you / I don’t know what I’d do without you / I’m scared of you leaving me / I’d give my life for you / You frustrate me / I’d call for you in a time of need / I would protect you / I’d visit you in hospital / I’d carry you if you were hurt / I’d feel guilty if I hurt you / I’d let you be near me when I am vulnerable / I’d ignore a phone call from you / I’d call you at 3am / I’d break you out of jail / I’d get angry at you / I would shout at you / You’re too loud / You’re too quiet / You’re too sensitive / You can’t take a joke / You embarrass me / I feel nothing for you / You’re reckless / You’re bossy / You bore me / I would ask your advice / I would blame you for something I did / I would cry in your arms / You have the power to hurt me more than anyone else /

[theonetrueemo]

Answer all the cute ask questions

HHHHHHHH- THATS SO MANY

angel; do you have a nickname?

On here people just call me Alex but irl people call me Lily even though my name is Lilith

awe; how old are you?

13

baby; favorite color?

BLACK!....Purple....

bloop; spirit animal?

Wolf

blossom; favorite book/movie/song?

Favorite movie is Freddy vs Jason, favorite book is Carry On by Rainbow Rowell, and favorite song is what ever I feel like at that moment.

blush; what was your stuffed animal as a child?

A cute little pupper.

breeze; most precious childhood memory?

Idk......

bright; mermaids or fairies?

Fairies because unlike mermaids I think they do exist

bubbles; do you have a best friend?

@loved-and-i-lost-you @smol-satanist-666 @gay-leader @ihaveapizzzacollection @jokerstrueidentity

buttercup; showers or baths?

Baths but I never take them

butterfly; dream destination?

London

buttons; are you religious or spiritual?

Uh??....

calm; favorite scent?

Haunted Castle look it up its amazing.

candlelight; what did you dream about last night?

Martin Persner...........

charming; have you ever been in love?

@ihaveapizzzacollection

cozy; eye/hair color?

Eye color is blue and my hair is very dark brown. But I am gonna dye is in the near future

cuddly; what’s your favorite time period?

Like....in the day or?....Well midnight and or 1920s-1960s

cupcake; favorite flower/plant?

I like buttercups a lot

cute; what did you get on your last birthday?

Ghost merch

cutie pie; most precious item you own?

.....Ghost merch.....No seriously my favorite thing I own is my Freddy Krueger glove.

cutsie; what makes you happy?

.................

daisies; describe a moment when you felt free.

Never......

daydream; how do you want to be remembered?

“That satanist girl obsessed with Multi”

daylight; favorite album of all time?

OPUS! EPONYMOUS!

dear; zodiac sign?

Aquarius....

delightful; concerts or museums?

Concerts. Museums are so silent....I hate it....

dimples; have you ever written a letter?

Yes many times.

dobby; dream job?

Artist or making all the gore in horror movies or working at a morgue....

doll; how do you like to dress?

Masculine

dovey; any paranormal/magical experiences?

Yes everyday

dreams; do you want or have any tattoos?

No but I want multiple

drizzle; do you believe in aliens?

Yeah duh. Watch Shane Dawson

euphoric; talk about someone you love.

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhh- No...

fairy; do you have a pet?

I have 6. 5 cats 1 dog.

fluffy; ocean or mountain?

Ocean. For years I have wanted to be a Marine Biologist but I dont think it will work.

forever; where do you feel time stop?

What?.....

froglet; are you a good plant owner?

Idk....

garden; how many languages do you know?

6

gem; who are your favorite tumblrs?

@ anyone I talk to

giggles; what is your aesthetic of choice?

Emo/goth/satanic

glittery; do you like anons? why/why not?

I like all asks

glow; list the top 5 things you like about yourself

Shins, emo/goth, satanic, I am some what good at drawing and I think I am a kind person

heart; silk or lace?

Silk because A) It feels nice and B) Lace is see through so fuck that.

honey; coffee or tea? how do you take it?

Tea. Hot tea once its made you take TWO table spoons of sugar mix it in and just a little bit of milk. Its perfect.

hugsy; do you enjoy people watching or bird watching more? why?

People watching, I’m an Aquarius.

hunnybunch; what sounds help you sleep?

Ghost, Otep, Slipknot, MCC, ect.

jewel; what’s your favorite kind of weather?

Rain. Thunder and lightning.

jiggly; what do you usually like to do on weekends?

Literally nothing.

joy; do you laugh loudly or giggle more?

Giggle....

kinky; do you blush easily?

It depends....

kisses; what romantic cliché do you wish for most?

Pick up lines!!!

kitty; what’s your favorite time of the day?

Midnight or Dusk.

ladybug; what’s your favorite artist to listen to when you’re sad?

Ghost.

love; what is your favorite season and why?

Winter or Spring because its cold

lovey; what is your favorite flavor of macaron and ice cream?

I’ve never had a macaron......But I like vanilla ice cream.

magic; what are five flaws you have?

I could write a book so if I tried we would be here all day.

moonlight; do you prefer soft pastels, warm neutrals, or cool darks?

DARKS

munchkin; what do you look for in your significant other?

Idk.....Loyalty is the most important thing to me.

paddywack; how would you describe a perfect date?

At home on the couch with some Chinese food and a true crime show on netflix.

pebbles; how do you spend free time by yourself?

Reading fanfic about a ship I like.

precious; what is something valuable that you learned in your life?

Life sucks

pretty; do you like to cook or bake more?

Bake.

prince; how would you describe your handwriting?

Better than other 13 year olds. I’m pretty proud of it actually.

princess; do you play any instruments? if not, are there any you wish you could play?

I play the keyboard and a little guitar. I would like to take actual classes for the keyboard but we can’t all have what we want.

prinky; how do you relieve stress?

Listening to Ghost, screaming or just....crying....

pumpkin; what is your favourite kind of fruit/vegetable?

BROCCOLI! EVERY KID HATES IT FOR SOME REASON BUT I’VE LOVED THAT SINCE I WAS 1

rainbow; what was the last line of the last book you read?

“Omega swallowed and Alpha fell on top of Omega and they fell asleep”

roses; what is the most significant event in your life so far?

Idk.....

smile; what is one thing that has greatly affected you?

Idk....OH coming out to my family. It still feels like a dream....

shine; art or music?

DONT MAKE ME CHOOSE!!!

shimmer; do animals tend to like you?

I have 6 what do you think.

smitten; do you collect anything?

Pop funkos...I have 23....

smoochies; how many pillows do you sleep with?

7 are on my bed but I never use them at all. My head is always on the mattress.

snuggle; what is your favourite candy?

Anything really....

snuggly; do you have a camera? if so, what kind?

I have my iPad.

sparkle; do you wear jewelry?

Fuck no. Actually I wear a Harry Potter ring.

spooky; sunrise or sunset?

Sunset!

sprinkles; do you like to listen to music with headphones or no headphones?

Noise cancelling headphones.

starlight; what was your favourite show as a child?

(Just to be clear...I still like these shows to this day) Octonots or Wild Krats!!! I FUCKING LOVE THOSE SHOWS!!! I cried when Captain Barnacles from Octonots got stung my a jellyfish and he was in pain!! I love him *cries*

soft; describe your favourite spot in your house.

My room...its my room....

soothe; digital or vinyl?

Vinyl. Obviously. I may be 13 but I am an 80′s fan for life!

squeezed; who do you miss right now?

everyone.....

sugary; what traits do you value most in friends?

LOYALTY! I am a Slytherin so I am VERY loyal.

sunshine; do you prefer for things to be practical or aesthetically pleasing?

Idk...

sweet; do you find it easy to open up?

Fuck no

sweetie; do you like kids? if so, do you ever want to have any?

Yes and No.

thimble; is there somebody you look up to? who are they?

Tobias Forge, Martin Persner, Simon Soderberg, Per Errikkson, Justin Taylor. idk if I spelled Per’s name right......

toot; what is something you find unique about yourself?

I growl....

tootsie; what kind of friend are you?

Loyal pet.

treasure; what was something that made you smile today?

I was drawing a picture of Thomas in a restaurant and the waitress liked it.

velvet; are you an early bird or a night owl?

Night owl. I have an owl. He doens’t come inside but we feed him. We named him....Dr. Who LOL

whiffle;  if you could have a magical power, what would it be?

Probably to turn invisible

whimsical; do you prefer doing stuff at home or going out?

Home

whiskers; do you usually wear makeup?

No

wiggly; are you a messy or tidy person?

Messy but thats only because I never have time to clean up. I am a clean freak though.

wispy; do you like the place where you grew up? do you think you will live there when you get older?

I dislike it a lot and I plan to move to London when I am older. Fuck Florida.

wobbly; have you ever wished upon a star?

No because nothing happens.

I HOPE THAT WAS IT! ~ A

[forgiven-whimsy]

5 favorite recent writing bits

So @kunstpause​ tagged me to share 5 recent writing bits I enjoyed and am proud of. Under the cut for length, with Ao3 links to the complete piece. 

In no particular order: Wicked Apology  Emet-Selch/Azem 5.3 and Tale from the Shadows spoilers, set right after the grape incident. Rated E 

He followed her, slowly, stretching, missing her comforting heat and circled her with a self satisfied smirk, knowing full well her obeisance would take convincing, counted on it even. He snapped his fingers. His robe blinked from view leaving him in a simple tailored button down shirt and trousers. “If you are quite done with your impertinence, I might speak of consequences.”

A quick flick of her wrist divested Astrea of her outer robes, and Hades nostrils flared at the sight of her, she’d anticipated his game. She wore a short black skirt that was sinful in the way it hugged her hips and the flare of her bottom. Above she wore a corseted blouse, The neckline bordering indecent. Nestled between her veritable heaving bosoms was an amethyst pendant of deepest violet on a thin golden chain, a gift, a promise of forever. It was infused with his aether that she might have a piece of him regardless of how far her travels took her.

“And what does the esteemed Emet-Selch have to say pray tell.” She gave him a sweet smile that was anything but, matching his mischief as only his lover could.

“Restitution has been demanded of you from the convocation, and your duty demands your acquiescence. Lahabrea requests repayment for his good faith, to which you have agreed, and you have even freely offered repayment to Elidibus, though he demands nothing of you.” She followed him with her midnight eyes until he circled behind her. Delicately his fingers traced along the golden chain that held his pendant, goose flesh puckered the pale skin of her breasts. “And yet, dear heart,” he spoke directly into her ears, and though she fought it there was no hiding the fluttering of her pulse or the sharp inhale when he tugged the pendant free, body warmed, and thrumming with power. “You have offered nothing to the architect of your deliverance, your soul’s mate, whom you have wronged most gravely.” He pressed his lips to the shell of her ear and she swayed, leaning against his chest. “Whatever am I to do with you?”

From Shadows  Estinien/WoL, set after 5.1, long fic, friends to lovers, roommates, PTSD. Rated E. 

The exchange was a fortnight ago, but the guilt lingered, thoughts circling back to Shiloh time and again. His feelings towards her were complicated, a tightly wound knot he didn’t know how to start untangling so he ignored it, and avoided her. Watching her from afar was easier than facing her head on. Estinien rankled at his own cowardice. He cared for her far more than he would ever let on, admitting only that she was a dear friend, and he was fiercely protective of those he considered friends. He swelled with pride whenever he heard of her exploits. He was grateful to her for saving his life, he found a measure of peace since she’d rescued him, rediscovered who he was in the absence of revenge and hate, and the person who had emerged, though damaged, wasn’t a person he disliked.

And yet there was a current of resentment and anger. When nightmares gripped him, she was a chief player in the terrors his subconsciousness visited upon him, and he had killed and been killed by her more times than he could count. When a dark mood would plague him, which was, frustratingly, often, he cursed her name, and the second chance at life she and Alphinaud had gifted him.  Estinien had asked Shiloh, specifically, to kill him, and she’d denied him that release. And always, always it all spiraled into guilt and shame, the guilt of surviving when far better people than him had gone to Halone’s halls, people Shiloh had loved. No, better to keep his distance, better for him, and for her. She was more than capable, the Warrior of Light didn’t need him. Let it Snow Aymeric/Wol, Self indulgent Starlight Fluff/smut. Rated E. 

The wind howls through the tunnels connecting the Pillars to Foundation. The snow, if the tiny icy knives can be called snow, fall sideways, cutting into exposed skin. The air is heavy and damp, seeping directly into any unfortunate traveler's bones. It’s the kind of weather that aggravates old wounds, and old joints, the kind that claims the lives of the unwary. Halone’s own fury batters the city perched atop the peak of a mountain. Shiloh squints against the onslaught, each step through the heavy snow slow and measured, there’s ice beneath the snow, and unfortunate falls were not uncommon in Ishgard under these conditions.

There’s no turning back, her destination and her starting point stood at equal distance, so she soldiers through the snow drifts piling up throughout the tunnels. The Warrior of Light is bundled in what was an almost comical amount of layers, tail and horns wrapped in custom made knit scarves. Golden eyes and a bright red nose poke past her knit hat and the scarf she has wrapped around her face. Mittened hands clutch a small blue and silver box, fingers nearly gone numb, her toes not faring much better as they tramp through the ever deepening snow blanketing the city streets. Lord Edmont’s urging for her to change before leaving rings in her ears, and she regrets ignoring his advice. When she emerges from the tunnels she’s not sure if the wind is worse or better. The snow renews its attempt to bury her, or transform her into a snowman, her pace slows in the heavier accumulation, but at least now she can see her goal.

The doors to the congregation are flung open with a deafening slam, Shiloh turns and struggles to close them. The blowing snow eager to claim whatever space it can. Gone are Handeloup and Lucia, gone are the scribes, and the chirugeons, gone are the Temple Knights, all but one. It was Starlight eve afterall, and the Lord Commander insisted that those under his charge be with their loved ones, out of the cold on Ishgard’s most sacred night. That he didn’t apply the same compassion to himself fuels Shiloh’s frustration and gives her the additional strength she needs to finally close the heavy wooden double doors against the storm. A sigh puffs from her lips and she slides down the rattling wood, a draft flitting through the bottom cracks, she’s too drained, too cold from her trek to move. Aymeric runs into the congregation's main chamber, sword drawn, only to be met by the sight of Shiloh’s half buried figure, more snow then Au Ra, sitting on the floor.

“Shiloh?” He sheaths his weapon and hurries to her side. “What are you doing here? You should be with the Fortemps.”

“So should you.” Shiloh lifts the small gift she’d clutched to her heart in an effort to protect the shiny blue wrapping paper and delicate silver ribbons she’d taken such pains to get just right. “Happy Starlight?” She tugs the scarf from her face, and wills her lips to stop chattering long enough to give him what she hopes is a sweet smile.

Clamor ffxivwrite2020 prompt fill, Gaius and WoL. Rated T. 

The smoke from the Ultima wreckage stung her eyes, and made it hard to breath. Shiloh secured Thancred to Maggie, checking his pulse again, checking his pupils, he was alive, unconscious but alive, and given the circumstances it would have to be enough. The metal of the decimated castrum creaked, and she was acutely aware that she was on a broken elevator. She moved quickly, ready to mount up and get out, only to be met with a long echoing groan. She froze, knowing it was Gaius Van Baelsar.

“Seven hells.” She muttered harshly under her breath before she stepped away from the magitek armor and sprinted towards the fallen Garlean.

She couldn’t find a pulse or even properly assess him with all of his armor in the way so she searched for a latch that would release his helmet. A click and a hiss later, she was pulling the metal horns from his head, his third eye shone amidst the blood and sweat marring his otherwise strong, dark features. She set to work, pushed her Aether into his body stopping the worst of the internal bleeding. She didn’t need magic to see that he was concussed, his pupils were pinpricks in his hazel eyes, but he was awake, and that was promising. After a tense moment he breathed deeply, a pain eased.

He tried to get up but Shiloh pushed him back down, “stay still.”

“Your mercy is a weakness.” The gravel of his baritone having lost much of its strength.

Shiloh kept working, focusing her energy on repairing a bleed close to his lungs.

“This isn’t mercy.” She spoke without looking at him.

“If not mercy, then what?”

“Justice.” Slowly she sat him up, keeping a glowing green hand close to his abdomen lest her delicate work be undone.

“One would think that dying among the castrums flames a fitting justice.” He winced and she slowly pulled him to his feet.

“That fate is far too kind, given your crimes.” Shiloh was diminutive next to Gaius, still she put one of his arms around her shoulders, letting him lean on her as they slowly made their way back to the waiting magitek armor. “Besides, long before I was a warrior or champion, I was a healer, I made an oath to offer succor to the sick and injured.” She glanced up at him, “even if the injured is my enemy.”

War of Hearts Zenos/WoL Arranged Marriage AU, long fic, enemies to friends to lovers, Rated M. 

It was absurd, laughable almost were it not happening in real time. Before her stands Varis, not a priest of the Twelve, to her right stands the man she was marrying, not the love of her life, not even someone she might like, no, to her right stands her most hated enemy. Zenos Yae Galvus. And Shiloh stands stock still, in a gown of shimmering gold, trimmed in red, the three interlocking diamonds, symbol of her long standing enemy embroidered into the delicate fabric, the same colours repeating in the bouquet she holds. She’s surprised any flowers at all deign to grow in the northern waste that was Galremald. Strange that she can still be surprised considering the outrageous betrayal that brought her here. She speaks the words of fealty, words of love, words of promise, and dutiful to the last, she places her hand over Zenos’s and Varis twins the red and gold cord around their hands. The weight of the ring on her left hand itches, as if the metal had been tempered in acid.

Shiloh had been many things in the preceding years, weapon, symbol, and now, bribe. She was the cost the Eorzean and Doman Alliances have paid for peace. She is the concession, by giving her to Garlemald, Varis has effectively disarmed his opponents, not that he hadn’t given back, the castrums in Eorzea and Doma are being dismantled as the farce carries on. The leaders, for their part, had done a good job of wringing their hands in a show of contrition and regret, but ultimately their people had to come first, even the Scions, her friends, or so she’d thought, had said it was for the good of the realm. No one, not a single one, had thought to put her wants, or her needs first. They were present, all of them watching as she turns, watching as Zenos, towering over her, takes her chin in his hands and bends to kiss her. That she doesn't recoil, or fill his mouth with bile is a miracle, likely her last. Hydealyn is ever silent, even as the crowd claps for the royal couple. She is named princess, and a gaudy Garlean crown is placed on her head. Absurd. Shiloh is in the seventh hell.

When the ceremony ends she takes Zenos’s arm and is led to the grande reception hall. He even pulls the chair out for her, ever the polite monster. They sit on a raised dais, course after course of food brought before them, and each tastes like ash in her mouth. Garlean nobles and Erozeans alike present gifts, one after the other the alliance leaders declare their friendship and present a gift that would remind her of home. She does not smile, she does not pretend, let the alliance leader's final memory be of her disdain, she hopes they choke on their guilt. If she could have burned the gifts, she would have, sadly thurmaturgy was not her strength, though she knew enough to light the entire pile on fire, were it not for the aether dampening shackles she’d been given upon her arrival in Garlemald. They appeare to be nothing more than golden bangles, but they were narrow enough that they could not be removed, and removing them required a controller. A controller Varis held. The emperor had cited safety, knowing full well she was present under duress, knowing full well the destruction she was capable of. He promised he would unshackle her when he knew he could trust her not to kill them all while they slept. She supposed she would be wearing them until her dying breath.

As for who I would tag, Everyone I would have, has been tagged, so if you see this and would like to participate, consider yourself tagged. 

[vanitysruin]

★ (for that RP meme you posted LONG time ago...) ( :P )

To say that times were strange would have, as usual, been a vast understatement. It seemed not a sun could pass where Delial did not think upon the many turns it took to return her home. This particular eve found her sat atop a rise of stone with a flask in one hand and a bauble in the other. Fresh scratches both light and deep crossed her arms where she’d rolled up her sleeves. But a few bells prior she had been shoulder-deep in a particularly prickly thicket, on the hunt for berries and herbs to pass on to Rhalgr’s Reach. It was as fine a way as any to pass the time. Ala Mhigo was so near yet… no, she was not ready for that. Not when it had just been taken back. Not yet.

So she stared its way instead, pointing herself east, imagining the city as it must be now past the canyons, the peaks, the salty loch and the malms of war that desecrated it all. Every sun since her arrival had been measured by the beat of war, and now that it had apparently been won, they slid past her so quickly, too quickly. Is it not Starlight soon? Or has it already gone? Delial - Blackstone as she called herself more and more - took a brief sip and squeezed tight her treasured bauble. It was fixed to a leather strap which she wore around her neck, and even though she could not see it, grasped tightly as it was between her fingers, she imagined she could feel the strength of Rhalgr’s icon carved within. –I like you / I hate you / I dislike you / I love you / You are family / I would take a bullet for you / I would shoot you / I would lie to your face / I would say something cruel to you on purpose / I would say something cruel to you accidentally / I would cheat on you / I would physically hurt you / You annoy me / You amuse me / I’d laugh at you / I’d laugh with you / I’d manipulate you / You scare me / You confuse me / I wish I knew you better / I trust you / I don’t trust you / You inspire me / I consider you an equal / You are beneath me / You’re better than me / I would trust you with my life / I think you’re mean / I think you’re petty / I think you’re childish / I think you’re smart / I think you’re stupid / I think you’re a bad person / I think you’re a good person / I’m not sure what kind of person you are / I wish you would listen to me / I want to make you proud / I wish you would notice me / I want to impress you / I would hurt other people for you / I’m not sure how to make you happy / I’m a bad influence on you / You deserve better than me / We make a great team / I’d have a one night stand with you / I’d have a relationship with you / I would marry you / I fantasize about our life together / I would trust you with my most treasured belonging / I would tell you my darkest secrets / You disgust me / You intimidate me / I hope I intimidate you / I’d hug you / I’d let you hug me  / I’m scared of losing you / I don’t think you like me / I want to be better for you / I respect you / I don’t respect you / You’re my mentor / You’re my friend / You’re my best friend / I have a crush on you / I could easily watch you die / I’d get drunk with you / I’d party with you / I’d comfort you / I’d prank you / I’d spike your drink / I’d act behind your back / I’d abandon you / I’d hurt you to get what I want / I would choose my happiness over yours / I would choose your happiness over mine / I despise how much I care for you / I need you / I’m dependent on you / I don’t know what I’d do without you / I’m scared of you leaving me / I’d give my life for you / You frustrate me / I’d call for you in a time of need / I would protect you / I’d visit you in hospital / I’d carry you if you were hurt / I’d feel guilty if I hurt you / I’d let you be near me when I am vulnerable / I’d ignore a phone call from you / I’d call you at 3am / I’d break you out of jail / I’d get angry at you / I would shout at you / You’re too loud / You’re too quiet / You’re too sensitive / You can’t take a joke / You embarrass me / I feel nothing for you / You’re reckless / You’re bossy / You bore me / I would ask your advice / I would blame you for something I did / I would cry in your arms / You have the power to hurt me more than anyone else /