#i want to colour this i love justice already

[majorproblems77]

Back on my Warriors gets a loftwing shenanigans

Interested in my rambling?

So, what if the fact that warriors has the spirit of the hero was enough for a loftwing from the goddess to appear in some form during the war of eras.

So, Say he falls from skyloft during the battle and it looks like he's going to fall through the cloud barrier never to be seen again. Then He hears a sound which sounds like a whistle through his mind and copies it.

A loftwing call, Which summons a spirit loftwing encased in a golden hue to save him. He manages to return to the island much to the surprise of the skyloftian commanders who are very much surprised at the fact that a non-skyloftian has summoned a random (seemingly unbonded) loftwing to his aid.

He then spends some time bonding with the loftwing, and is told to take part in an all be it rushed skyloftian bonding ceremony after speaking to the elders of skyloft at the time.

Names the loft wing, Justice. Justice is a grass green feathered loftwing with emerald green and navy blue tipped feathers. The bond mist (eyes, from my loftwing bond headcanon) is emerald green.

During his campaign on skyloft he is taught how to fly and how to fight in the air with the skyloftians. Learning aerial combat with bows and is found to be quite good at it as long as the loftwing is flying in a straight line.

Once the campaign ends and he is summoned back to his time he says goodbye to justice, content on never seeing his companion loftwing again.

What warriors dosent see, is justice disappearing into golden light as he leaves. Returning to the light he came from.

Unless he ever finds himself back on Skyloft of course.

Warriors and Sky loftwing chats anyone?

[utterlyazriel]

an eternity, my love

eep! this is a bit longer than the last at just over 6k forgive me... but thank so much for all love on the first piece 🥹 and thank u for all your lovely ideas! i hope this does sum justice to the nonnie who asked for further miscommuncation... <3 part one here but u don’t need to read it to read this :)

How does one even begin to decide what to wear to dinner with a person, the person, who matched your soul perfectly?

When your friend had hunted her way through clothing stores of Velaris and stashed away a custom dress — far fancier than anything you owned — for the first date with her mate, you had laughed at her.

Now, staring at your closet in only your undergarments, you were beginning to envy her preparation.

Seriously, how are you supposed to choose?

You pick up your latest addition to your closet, a glossy dress the colour of red wine that reveals the length of your legs and planes of your collarbones— perfect for a night out dancing.

With a grimace, you place it back on the hanger. It was far more scandalous than you would want to be on a first date, even though — well, you’re sure that, being mates, Azriel would like anything you wore.

You heave a sigh. An uneasy prickle beneath your skin has you crossing your arms; it was almost alarming how badly you wanted to impress him. But… mating bonds were rare and powerful.

Almost as if you had summoned it — in fact, maybe you had — there’s a soft shimmer in your chest. Your beautiful glow, the bridge between you and Azriel humming to life. In a way you can’t explain, it’s as though you can feel him soothe across your mind, his soft touch full of assurances.

He’s comforting you. All your emotions must be shooting down the bond without your permission. Gods, that would take some getting used to. You wonder if he can feel your resounding pang of embarrassment as well.

You do your best to push back something less nervous, more of your excitement for the night to come — and you know, without even seeing him, he’s smiling.

After another moment of fussing, you decide on something simpler than your glossy night dress.

Comfortable black slacks with plenty of flow to them and a shirt you thought was one of your nicer ones. With the slightest touch ups to your makeup, you rush yourself out the door before you convince yourself to change all over again.

The Sidra keeps you company, a rush of water beside you as you wind through the streets of Velaris, eyes flicking up to take in the darkening sky. The sun was sinking below the mountain tops, rays tickling across the ridges.

And while you could admit that Velaris was very beautiful in the daytime, you were a true Night court citizen— and believed its true beauty came out at night.

Somehow, despite the lack of concrete plans made as you had ushered the male out of your office, you knew resolutely that you would be able to find him. You weren’t even worried about the timing of it all. It was… what was the word? Absurd. Insane. Utterly, breathtakingly incredible.

Sure enough, as you exit the alley and round the corner, your eyes falling on the sage green building you reside in for work, there he is; waiting for you.

You inhale a sharp breath. A thousand cells in your body fizz, hum, and glow, at the mere sight of him.

It's easy to understand just how he had garnered his dark reputation, the image of him every bit of the Spymaster of the Night Court — a title like Shadowsinger has never been so fitting for him.

He’s blurred at the edges, a thousand tiny wisps that blend him into the shadows of the nighttime. His wings stretch up behind, towering over his already tall frame, black as ink, and beneath his darkened attire, you can spot his tan skin. Your eyes drag up his neck, tracing his adam's apple, along the scruff of his sharp jaw until you reach his hazel eyes.

Your heart burns.

In the depth of it, you know, if he doesn't love you, he will undo you completely.

It's wholly terrifying to come face to face with — the intensity of the mating bond scorching through your mind like a fierce wind, burning embers left in its wake.

It's enough to make you pause, the definitive thought that doing this, offering him your heart and trusting him, could very well lead to your ruin.

Your chest squeezes tightly. You let your eyes drink in the Illyrian, the Male who waited so patiently for all those years and was prepared to wait years more, if you had asked.

Focusing, you pluck up that golden thread in your chest and hold it tightly. It heats and melts, hotter and hotter, and you know that any fear you have, you can conquer to be with him.

Ruination be damned.

—

Azriel notices you the moment your frame exits the alley, notices the moment you pause — has been able to feel you drawing nearer to him this whole time. Your every emotion is transparent to him through the bond between you, whether you’re aware of it or not.

You must not have the tightened mental shields he had come to be so familiar with over all his years. It makes sense; you are no warrior. Mental walls over your mind are not something you have ever had to concern yourself with.

Azriel vows it to be one of the things he teaches you. You deserved the privacy of your emotions, at the very least.

But... for now, Azriel can feel them all. It's why, as you round the corner, Azriel can feel your eyes on him and then, then he feels it.

The wash of fear that spills over your bond like icy water.

An old enemy rises within him. He grits his teeth, even as he feels the fear from you slide away and he tries to ignore the sting from an unhealed wound. But self-deprecation never seems to drown, no matter how much he tries to suffocate it within him.

He shifts his hands, relieved suddenly to have them covered up beneath gloves. His wings tuck in tighter, if possible, and he wills his shadows sternly to contain themselves. Something in the slightest baring of his teeth has them obeying. They shoot to his sides and make themselves scarce.

All this in time to greet you pleasantly as you bounce into view, sidling up before him with a shy grin. It's only been a few hours since he got his proper look at you and yet, you're every bit as breathtaking as you were earlier. More so, in fact.

It feels as though Azriel has never seen the sky before and you before him, are the first sunset of his life. You look so pretty that Azriel could probably gaze at you all evening if you so allowed him to.

And then, he remembers the pang of fear.

He doesn't waste time mulling over which detail of him had made you afraid — only that he would dim or change or hide any part of himself to stop it from happening again.

"Hello, again," You say, your lips pressed together to contain your smile. You have to tilt your head back to look up at his handsome face. His shadows swirl around him and despite his strict instructions, one still slips away to touch you.

You don't notice it circling your ankle, tentative and shy.

"Hello, again." Azriel echoes your words, unable to help his own glimmer of joy.

He wants to offer you his arm, his hand. Can feel it within him, down to the very marrow of his bones, the craving to be closer to you, to touch you, however he can.

Azriel swallows heavily and does what he has done over decades, over centuries; he takes the wanting and pushes it down, down, down.

The two of you begin to walk, side by side, with no destination in mind. Aimless and content at the same time.

Azriel doesn't need the bond to see the flittering of nerves hidden in your expression. The shadow still circulating around your ankle climbs higher, like it wants to comfort you too.

Azriel wills it to still, desperate to not scare you again. He drops his shoulders from his usual warrior posture in hopes of making himself a little smaller.

“You don’t need to be nervous.” He says reassuringly.

You steal a glimpse at him, your smile breaking into a grin. Your nerves are still potent but less so.

“Who says I’m nervous?”

Azriel smiles gently, his eyes dancing across your face as he reads your lie easily. “I do."

There's a scrunch between your eyebrows then, like he had seen during his time in your office earlier. Azriel places a hand on his chest, over the place where the glowing tug is strongest.

"I can feel it.”

Your eyes widen slightly as you stare at his gloved hand, the cogs in your brain spinning and turning at a rapid rate. Still strolling, your hand rises slowly and touches to the same spot on your own chest. Azriel can feel his heart stutter at the sight, you holding the spot that connected you to him undeniably.

"You can?" Your gaze lifts to his face, puzzlement adorning your features. You frown and focus for a moment, staring hard into the distance — and Azriel feels a sudden twinge of disgust through the thread.

"Did you feel that?" You ask, eyes wide and curious.

Azriel nods wordlessly and he can't help but ask. "What is it you were thinking of?"

You look embarrassed for a moment, eyes averting to the ground. You chuckle awkwardly and tuck your hair behind your ears, glancing back up at the Male with a sheepish smile.

"Brussels sprouts."

Azriel blinks once, twice, and then has to turn to hide his smile. He tries to cover his laugh with a cough. It doesn't work, given how you make a small noise of indignation. He turns back, his politest expression on.

"Don't laugh at me!" You whine, reaching out to poke him in the shoulder. Your touch radiates through his body like a drop of golden sun, blazing warm.

"You're right," Azriel hums, his lips twitching as he presses back his smile. "My apologies, my lady. This is important knowledge I should be filing away. I swear on my life I will feed you no brussels sprouts this evening, or any in the future."

He wants to nudge your shoulder with his own, just to touch you, wants to reach out as easily as you had. But his shadows slip before his self-control does, skittering out along onto your shoulder and giving you a small shock and Azriel remembers himself. His fists clench tightly at his sides.

You walk side by side all evening, like two planets in orbit — close, oh so close, but never quite touching.

—

The first date you share is nothing short of… wonderful.

Resolutely and overwhelming good, the entire date you can't help but feel as though your very soul is singing, a thousand particles blithesome at the nearness you get to share with Azriel. He's surprising in a manner of ways.

Firstly, he's terribly quiet.

Next to him, you look quite the blabber-mouth, no matter how much he insists he enjoys it. His dark eyes are intense as they watch you closely, soaking in every word that passes your lips, and yet, beneath it, his dry sense of humour comes out to play. There's the occasional tease, almost as if just to see if he could make you flustered. (He could, easily).

With a Male as beautiful as him, suited to your very being in every way, it's nearly unbearable how much you ache for him. How much his very attention creeps down your neck and makes every nerve along your spine tingle.

You know it will take some time to get used to his unwavering and devoted attention.

There’s… just one small, itty-bitty, tiny problem.

He doesn’t touch you.

Throughout that whole first evening, you had noticed it somewhat— a flex in his gloved hands, a moment where his wing strayed too close only to be pulled back in a flash, even his shadows, darting out to be near you but never quite touching you as they had on that first meeting.

His hands reach out but they do not find you.

At first, you believed it was a first date thing. Azriel was, first and foremost, a gentleman, and you thought perhaps, his skirting touch, like his hand lingering over the small of your back but not touching it, was to be polite. Courteous and gracious.

Then, you had seen him just two days after that date, all bundled up in your giddiness that it had managed to slip your mind.

The two of you had spent the day together, traversing through the market — before you quickly found a quieter space for your mate as it became clear that large bustling areas, such as the Palace of Threads and Jewels, were not so suited to his tastes.

As you had tugged him out of the crowd, laughing over your shoulder at how he fought to keep his broad wings from knocking into anyone else, the thought suddenly snapped back into you.

Though you yearned to link his arm with your own, to interlace your fingers with his, you remembered his hesitance. Remembered the hover of his gloved hand.

And so, you dropped his arm the moment you cleared the crowd.

A hurt warbled deep within you to so do and knowing you were not the deftest at schooling your expressions, you hid your face so you could contain your childish reactions. You huffed at your own upset. What matter is it if your mate has no affinity to touch?

Truly, it was a miracle to have found a mate at all, you tried to scold yourself. You would not take him for granted for a moment, not even if it was not quite the picture of perfection you had envisioned.

Rooted deep in you was a truth; you could abide by this, abstain to his level of comfort for years, for millennia, if it made him happier.

The fabric of the mating bond, connecting the two of you intrinsically, made it so you would not want it any other way.

It's a decidedly Azriel thing.

He always wears the gloves, he never touches you more than he has to, and he's got... this really specific look when you're doing a terrible job of hiding your emotions.

As he had vowed, Azriel had set about teaching you how to build the mental walls up within your mind, brick by brick by brick. While it would help you hold against daemati if that loathsome situation should ever arise, it would also shield you from your mate.

It would protect you from having your emotions ripped out for him to see, no matter how much you held back — if it was in your mind, it would travel down the bond.

So, the wall had to be built. It had been tedious, tricky, and tiring work. Yet every time you would feel yourself ready to throw in the towel, Azriel would lean in closer, his hazel eyes softened, and his hand resting upon your arm, thumb swatching up and down, to encourage you.

"I know it is tiresome," He had mused, that faint smile twitching at his lips as you scowled at the ground. His thumb was still moving, still drawing light circles on your bicep. The skin beneath it blazed with warmth. "But it is worth it, that I can promise. You deserve this privacy, my dear. I would never wish to take it from you."

My dear, my dear, my dear— the words had sunk into your sternum and bloomed, bright and golden.

It's enough to hold onto, his kind affections. The sweet shape of his mouth when it says your name. The way his lashes kiss in the corner when he can't hold back his smile.

It's enough to soothe yourself over. To take the lack of touch on the chin and swallow down your desire for more.

It's why— why you can't help yourself— why you couldn't tear your eyes away from Azriel's hand where it touches Cassian's arm.

You're meeting his family today, which you've quickly realised doesn't mean his mother or father but instead means... the literal Highlord of the Night Court.

There are several warriors crowded around the cramped entrance room to the River House. Each of them is taller than you, and two of them with the very same huge wingspans that you've come to revere on your own mate.

Your usual talkativeness has been dimmed in your shock, though, really, it shouldn't be such a surprise. Azriel is a force to be reckoned with, honed over decades, and the Spymaster of the Night Court. You know these things. The company he keeps makes sense.

Somehow... still, seeing them all together leaves you strikingly speechless. The legion that protects your home — a family.

Rhysand greets you first, dapper in his dark attire, his violet eyes equal parts calculating and welcoming as he steps forward and offers his hand.

Despite the fact you have never bowed to him before, you still have to repress the urge. His power is overwhelming, the very night lapping at his edges and you're suddenly very grateful to be meeting him as a friend and not as a foe.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Rhysand's voice purrs out, soft as silk. When you place your hand in his, he brings it to his lips and presses a polite kiss to the back of your hand.

"Any friend of Azriel's is a friend of mine."

You can feel your own heart thundering in your chest. Azriel hovers behind you, his presence soothing in itself. You can't see it but his wings are outstretched towards you, cocooning around you ever so slightly. A shadow hovers behind your shoulder, just out of sight.

"I— the pleasure is mine, my Highlord." You manage to make yourself speak.

You almost wish you hadn't when your words inspire a burst of laughter from one of the others behind Rhysand, the other Illyrian. He's tall, his hair dark but longer than your mate's own.

As your hand is dropped, Rhysand turns to scowl at the Male laughing, and you only grow further perplexed when he gives a whack against the other's shoulder. They begin to squabble for a moment — and you don't even hear Azriel move until he's speaking, his lips right by your ear.

"You'll have to forgive Cassian." His voice is low, raspy in a way that sends a zing down your spine. You shiver lightly. "He can be well-mannered at the best of times. But I promise he isn't laughing at you."

The two Males seem to tune back into Azriel's words, even though they had been whispered for you specifically.

"It's true!" The Illyrian, Cassian you now know, pipes up. He brandishes a devilishly handsome grin at you, with his hands held up in defense. "I apologise. It just still makes me laugh to see someone address this one so formally."

You blink. "But... he is the Highlord."

Azriel speaks again, bent over still to talk in your ear, but much less of a whisper this time. "Rhys is our Highlord but he does not bother with such formalities."

"And," Cassian interjects, lugging a punch into Rhy's shoulder, much like the other had done to him not a moment before. "Before he was the o'mighty Highlord, he was our friend."

Cassian says the word o'mighty with such an air of sarcasm that you can't help but glance at Rhys, sure he wouldn't take such disrespect. But around you, there are only easy grins.

"Might we move to somewhere more comfortable than the doorway," Azriel speaks up from behind you, his voice dry. "Unless that is, you're all hoping to do one-on-one greetings with her?"

There it is, the dry sense of humour you've come to adore. The group before you seems to grumble, as if they were quite keen on the one-on-one meetings but begin to move through the house.

One of the group dips back to walk beside you and you do your best not to repeat your past mistakes, even as your eyes widen almost comically. Azriel chuckles silently to himself, feeling your polite astonishment down the bond.

"It's so great to finally meet you.” Feyre, your Highlady greets you, her pretty face rife with glee. She seems genuinely very happy to make your acquaintance. "Azriel has told me all about you."

You stumble in surprise, your eyes casting back to Azriel behind the pair of you. His eyes are fixed on Feyre, narrowed at her blatant betrayal, his shadows swirling around him. She sticks her tongue out at him playfully and you smother a laugh.

When his eyes shift over to you, you're positively delighted at how his cheeks have turned the lightest shade of ruby.

"Feyre is very persuasive when she wants to be." He murmurs, almost grumbling. You turn back to the Highlady and she grins at you, devious and captivating all at once.

It’s a whirlwind once you reach one of the many living rooms, each member of Azriel’s family all very eager to shake your hand.

Cassian grips it firm, his grin still on the side of wicked as he tells you he’s been waiting years to find the woman who could contain Azriel. Nesta, his mate as you find out, is a fierce kind of pretty with a grip as strong as Cassian’s. She tells you welcome to the family with the smile of a shark.

Morrigon is next, breathtakingly gorgeous, and every bit as charismatic as Azriel had described. You don't catch the glimpse between Mor and Cassian, not the beat of relief they both feel at your arrival in their lives— in Azriel's life.

It's swallowed up in her words, going a mile a minute. She jumps about, like popcorn in a pan, overly keen to finally speak to the one whom the Mother deemed worthy of Azriel’s heart. Where are you from? What do you do? How did you meet?

“Mor,” Azriel warns, after her twelfth consecutive question about your life. He hasn’t moved from his protective position behind you, close enough you can feel the heat of his body. His wings had brushed your shoulder just once.

“Yeah, Mor,” Rhys jeers. He nudges his cousin in the side playfully and Cassian snickers behind the group. “Give the girl some time to breathe.”

Even with all of Azriel's masterclass on who you would be meeting, it's still terribly overwhelming just trying to keep track of them all. They're each such strong spirits, each with seemingly a thousand battles in their past and far more years with Azriel.

On top of this is the fact you met both your Highlord and Highlady so casually in one single afternoon. It's difficult to not be daunted by the group that is so clearly intertwined with each other on a deeper level altogether— bonded by devastation and choosing each other through love.

Try as you might, you can feel the seed of doubt, of insecurity, make a home between your ribs.

You clamp down the shields you've spent the last few weeks learning, building the wall up and holding it tight. It's silly to feel dismayed because these Fae, these friends, know your mate better than you do.

Azriel had told you he had been waiting for you for five hundred years. For the first time since you've met him, you wonder if he was ever disappointed.

And then— then, you see it.

Azriel's hand on Cassian's arm. Then the half embrace they share, a hand on each other's neck as Cassian grins, wild and fierce, and presses his forehead against Azriel's own; brothers, sharing a moment of euphoria at the other finding his long-deserved happiness.

You should be soaking in the smile Azriel hides from you too often, showing his teeth and crinkling his eyes. But instead, you can't see past it, can't stop the loop in your own mind as it prints a fact over and over and over.

It isn't an Azriel thing; it's a you thing.

He doesn't touch you.

The mental walls in your mind feel paper-thin as a fresh kind of agony ripples through your chest. The soft rejection of a mate stings, a papercut on your very heart. You can feel it warble through you and know, terribly, the exact moment that Azriel feels it too.

His head whips around, his dark shadows that surround him suddenly spinning and flitting faster than before— a couple dive across the room to you.

You stand up and the chair scrapes noisily beneath you.

"I—" You say before you realise you haven't planned an exit or an excuse in the slightest. Azriel's gaze burns into you. You turn to Feyre instead, who had been talking across from you when you rudely stood up.

"I'm so sorry, I just—" Some excuse, any excuse! "I think I— left the stove on."

It's a lie. A complete utter lie that fools no one in the room as you retreat from it hastily. None of them try to stop you though, which you're thankful for. Each of them watches, every expression slightly concerned as you hurry out of the room, your feet walking backward rapidly until you bump into the door frame.

You pass through it with your eyes on the floor, knowing that all of the eyes are on you. You know the ones you can feel searing into your soul are Azriel's.

You leave the River House. You walk along the Sidra, your steps hurried and your chin tucked low. It hurts. It hurts the feeling inside you. A tear streaks down your cheek, unbidden, and collects on your jaw. You wipe it away meanly.

The sight of your apartment door is an overwhelming comfort, one that has you sighing aloud as you rush up to it, your fingers already digging around in your pockets for your key.

And like always, you never hear him coming.

"What happened?" Azriel asks, his voice almost pained.

You give a little yelp of surprise and whip around, remembering half a second later that there's still evidence on your face of your tears. Azriel grows characteristically still, his hazel eyes fixed on yours as you sniffle for a moment, aggravation beginning to creep in.

He could feel everything from you and you got... what? Whatever he deemed fit to offer? How is that fair?

His usually wispy shadows are inkier than usual, almost tornado-ing around his shoulders. They keep leaping out towards you before being caught in an invisible net, a barrier between you and them.

Even as Azriel remains motionless, his eyes are the opposite—they jump around, searching, hunting, begging to find the cause of your pain. Had it been one of his friends?

"Please," He tries his words again.

His heart throbs painfully when you finally find your key and turn your back on him without a word, unlocking your door and pressing your way inside. He follows quickly, wings tucked in tight, unable to keep his shadows at his side this time. They whiz to you, circling your ankles protectively.

"Please," Azriel says, an anguished growl to his words. "What hurt you? I will— my friends, if they said something— if it was someone, I hunt them down and make it right for you."

You inhale sharply and when you speak, your tone is cold in a way you have never used before with Azriel. You say the words without thinking.

"It would be impossible to hunt yourself, Azriel."

Regret howls through you like a hurricane the moment you say the words. You don't mean to be mean, jealous, or whatever unseemly emotion you can't stop from sprouting in your chest, growing in size, tangling into your heartstrings like twisted gnarled vines. It hurts.

You turn back to him, mouth open. No words come out.

Hurt is slashed across his face, his eyebrows furrowed tightly, his shadows tucked in tight. It's as though he's blended into the very air, the wispy edge of him threatening to retreat into his own shadows.

All his emotions on display just for a moment, before they're schooled away. Tucked away, hidden, not for you to see.

Inside, your hurricane howls again, this time in pain.

You can tell he feels it, even as you mentally gather your bricks. It isn't fair. How can he have every bit of you and you get what he pleases to return?

You want to know him completely, want to see every part of his rugged, weathered soul, and love him anyway. It's an untold type of agony to have him deny you.

"My love," His feet finally move, his wings almost dragging on the floor as he steps forward, slowly, as though he was afraid he might spook you.

"Tell me how to fix this pain." He pleads. His gloved hands are held out, palms up and suddenly, he looks nothing like a warrior. Just a Male, afraid of losing what is most dear to him. You shake your head, like a child, and keep building your brick wall.

"Please don’t keep this from me," He takes another step forward, his shadows sent awry as they dart across to you. You can feel them on your calves, on your arms, feel the tiny kisses they leave. Azriel speaks again, voice low. "My love, I can feel your pain.”

You can't help how you screw your eyes closed, the ache in your chest unbearable— made worse when you know he can feel it too.

"That is my problem." You utter the words quietly, eyes still clenched shut, knowing he can hear you. He takes another step, close enough now that you can feel the heat of his enormous frame, his wings bracketing around you. "I cannot hide anything from you."

Azriel makes a noise, a punched-out wounded sound that reverberates down the bond.

"My love," He murmurs for the third time. Down the bond, you can feel his sweet love, his golden gentle feelings travelling along to assure you. "I would not wish for you to hide anything from me."

“But you hide everything from me." You whine, eyes finally crinkling open. Azriel stares down at you, his eyes softer than they've ever been. You can see the hurt swimming in them, the hurt you've caused. Still, you speak.

"You hide your emotions. You hide your touch, yet you give it willingly to your friends." You share each ugly thought with him, whispered as you gaze into his face to search for your answers.

Lifting your hands, you curl your fingers around his wrists tentatively. Azriel swallows heavily, his eyes dancing down to where you're touching him. You slide your hands forward, dragging the pads of your fingers over his pulse, along his palm, til your hands are holding his gloved ones.

"Is there some test I don't know about?" You ask, your focus on your intertwined hands. "Is there— do I have to earn this?"

"No," Azriel chokes out the word suddenly. You look up at him. He clears his throat and you feel his hands grip yours back, surer and stronger than you had. "No, I'm sorry. There is no test, nothing to prove you deserving of this. I just..."

His words trail off and you watch as he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, as if gathering his courage. His hands slide from yours, pulled backward and you nearly feel the urge to cry once more— before you realise he's removing his gloves.

The skin of them is warped, you realise acutely with horror. The skin of his hands is swirled and mottled, an injury long healed but scarred for eternity. Azriel is watching your face closely, holding his hands close to his chest as though he was prepared to hide them away at the first flicker of fear.

You're grateful for the link between and all your shoddy attempts at blocking him out. Your love and your unwavering devotion drifts along the bond.

Azriel shudders, his wings giving the tiniest shiver. Slowly, gently, he reaches out towards you. You feel his hands, the unruly scarred feel of his skin sliding along your jaw to hold it tenderly. He has never held you like this before.

He cradles your face gently — like his hands have never held weapons of war, like they aren't twisted and marred with a memory he can't forget, like they're worthy of holding something so precious.

Azriel holds you as if you're holy — and he's come to kneel at your altar.

"I was afraid of what you would think." He admits. His voice is hoarse, gravelly as he fights off the lump in his throat. "I— on the first day we met, I felt your fear along the bond and—"

"It was not of you." You interrupt him, your hands jumping up to cover his own where they hold you. Azriel inhales sharply, eyes darting to watch.

But you pay him no heed, the palm of your hand covering his like a lover would. You let your thumb soothe up at down the ridges of his skin. You let your love ripple along the bond.

"It was not fear of you, Azriel." You repeat, your voice soft. His eyes are still fixed on your joined hands. His wings have begun to pick up, no longer drooping behind his back— you're not sure if he even notices.

"It was fear for how strongly I already felt for you." You lean into his hand and Azriel lets you, lets the length of your nose nuzzle into the touch of his hands — something no one in all his years of living had ever done before.

"It was fear that you already could ruin me," The words are murmured. "And that I would let you."

You whisper his name to pull his wide-eyed gaze from where his hands touch you and his hazel eyes burn into yours. Every whitened scar on his skin, every eyelash, the adorable pinch between his eyebrows; you drink it all in and smile at him. Azriel, your mate.

"Azriel, I chose this despite that fear. I choose you.”

Azriel quivers at the words, at your unflinching tone and suddenly the world seems such a perfect place, time moving around you, untouching, with such a perfect grace.

“I choose you too,” He murmurs, an emotion so strong a fire of possessiveness streaks down the bond. This time, you can feel his wall melt away, allowing you access to all he feels — his mountain of fear and his melting relief.

“Forgive me—” He begins and you laugh without meaning to, cutting him off.

“Stop,” you say, the word light and as pretty as your grin. “We keep doing this to ourselves, tying ourselves in knots over and over.”

Azriel laughs, his lips twitching into a smile as he allows himself to stroke his thumb lovingly over your cheek. The way you melt beneath it, your lashes fluttering and heart burning so brightly he can feel it in his own chest too— Azriel knows this longing will long outlive his body.

“We do,” He agrees. He dips his head a little lower, probably the only apology you’ll let him have, and inhales shakily. His hands shift across your face, down to hold your chin, his fingers pressed together tightly to hide the way they quiver.

“Then let me apologise in another way,” He murmurs, his voice closer to playful. “In a way I’ve been selfishly depriving you of.”

And when he kisses you, it’s with a reverence that softens all your corners.

His lips are plush and sweet, and with the way he dedicates himself to your bottom lip, you can’t help how you sigh into his mouth. He finds home in the curve of your mouth.

It’s delirious the way he kisses once, twice, three times like he’s hungry for something found only in your lips.

Your hands stagger forward, leaving his own to wind over around his neck. Your fingers curl up, raking through the hair on the nape of his neck — feeling the shiver that travels up his spine, his wings giving a little flare out.

He kisses you breathless, one hand abandoning your jaw to wrap snugly around your waist, bringing you closer to him.

When he pulls back, something within you glows molten gold at the panting that leaves his lips. He’s gazing at you, his hazel eyes alight in a way you haven’t quite seen before. His wings shift behind his shoulders, curling forward to wrap the two of you together, not quite touching.

Your heart thrills. You grin, your lips still just an inch apart as Azriel nudges forward, his own twitching in that way when he fights his smile. His lips brush yours, his smile barely held back.

“Have you forgiven me yet?” He says, sweet and low, allowing the smile to finally pull his pretty mouth up at the corners.

“Or should I make it up to you a little more?”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, chaste and gentle.

“Mmm,” your eyes are bright as they peer up at him, full of playful mirth and adoring affection. “You're forgiven but... I think you should make it up to me, just a little more.”

Azriel willingly obliges, his smile as sweet as the moonlight.

—

some people i thought might want to be tagged :)

@strangerstilinski @astoriaviviane @lana08 @florence-end @lportes-22 @torrick17 @florencemtrash @sidthedollface2 @seafrost-fangirl @goldenmagnolias @jeweline16 @meshellexplosionmurder @michellexgriffey @susiekern @toobsessedsstuff @fxckmiup @littlebookbengal @elenapril0502 @glitterypirateduck @hnyclover @technoelfie @itsapunklife @coffeecares

[chaoticallyfluffy]

I want more of the JL acting like normal celebrities.

Batman and Chappel Roan working together on a competitive cooking show against teams of Kylie Jenner and Danny Devito, Kanye West and Kesha, Taylor Swift and Superman, etc. They are a surprisingly good team who work together great. They end up winning the whole thing and a bunch of wholesome memes start trending about the two of them adopting you after your awful parents kicked you out. Superman and Taylor Swift are surprisingly a TERRIBLE team. They’re disqualified because they never finished cooking their meals as they were too busy arguing. They are memed to be the parents who kicked you out and desperately need a divorce.

Wonder Woman going on a survivor-like reality show about a bunch of celebrities stuck on an island together and all the contestants are whining about things like “My hair is so frizzy and Chad is SO hot, I don’t want him to see me like this omg” While Diana has already chopped down multiple trees, used the wood to make a cabin for everyone, hunted a wild boar which is currently roasting over a campfire she also made with the leftover sticks and leaves, and cracked the coconuts from the tree. The rest of the show is mostly a normal reality show. The other contestants never have to lift a finger and can peacefully gossip and have drama while being well fed, housed, and hydrated. The only real difference is that every few minute the camera switches to Diana wresting a grizzly bear or catching fish with her bare hands.

The masked singer where there’s a person in a colourful parrot costume singing on stage and everyone has to guess who it is. People have guessed many celebrities like Oliver Queen, Bruce Wayne, or even Lex Luther, but they mostly guessed famous singers because the guy is GOOD and there’s no way he doesn’t sing professionally. He sang songs like “Party in the USA”, “Call Me Maybe” and “Never Gonna Give You Up”. People were going crazy trying to figure out who he is. The time finally comes for the reveal. The man slowly takes off his parrot head and... it’s Batman. The crowd goes wild.

The Flash (Barry) and Green Lantern (Hal) make a podcast and spend the entire time going on long rants about their respective interests. Flash talks about forensic science and chemistry for an hour while GL hums in interest or asks questions every once in a while. After that GL rambles about airplanes and engineering for another hour while Flash enthusiastically nods and adds in related stories every so often. Twitter diagnoses them with autism.

Captain Marvel has a TikTok account where he posts himself trying suggestions from his fans. Some of his most popular videos include him juggling a bunch of chainsaws (perfectly, btw), pranking JL members, bedazzling Mr Minds prison jar with fake crystals and speech bubble stickers that make it look like Mr Mind is saying things like “I’m DUMB”, and his most popular by far, citing The Santa Clause rules to Black Adam and convincing him that since he killed his father technically that makes him his new dad (the horror stopped Black Adam in place mid battle, giving Marvel the perfect opportunity to punch him in the face. The punch has been slo-mo’d and memed to oblivion). His Batman mandated PR team has been begging him to stop for months but in response he posts himself TikTok dancing (terribly) in front of a green screen in the background showing an image of the emails while asking for more suggestions.

If anyone has any ideas like this or fics to recommend plz tell me In the comments, I love the Justice League just casually being celebrities.

[paulic]

Ok this is what I think the biopics will be like for each Beatle:

John will be so troubled but in a really charming way and Julian will be mentioned but briefly and they’ll make it seem like John was just too busy to be a present father (Paul will make up for it in a vomit inducingly cheesy way). His eating disorder, heroin addiction and other internal struggles (self-esteem, sexuality, maybe even gender,…) will go unmentioned or brushed over jokingly like haha he tossed Brian off, don’t we all at that age. He’ll be the cool and funny older brother & later genius who just couldn’t be confined within a band. They won’t have the guts to call his bullshit and therefore will automatically brush over his kinder and vulnerable sides. He’ll be reduced to a knock off version of the tortured artist blueprint. They’ll never pick up on his pathetic wet dog vibe

Paul will be the charming good guy who’s all in with the band. No mention of how he fucked over Jane and every other girl until Linda; he’ll be a musical genius, too, but in a prince of the people sort of way. They’ll loooove that he stopped eating meat, woke king!!!! Linda will be brushed over by making her into his soulmate wifey who finally helps the charming playboy with a heart of gold settle down. His depression and alcohol problem won’t be mentioned/reduced to feeling a little sad. He’ll be a little bossy sometimes but they won’t ever get it right how fucking annoying he could be. Straighter than a ruler. John’s brother, almost biologically. No homo. They’ll find a way to make the twink who fucked the entire population and had an ego bigger than Neptune into a straight feminist

George will be the indie underground smart Beatle and people on tik tok will start posting thirst traps of the actor with the caption “they don’t make em like this anymore” and then complain about real-George’s teeth. He’ll be so spiritual and smart and he won’t have an affair with his best friend’s wife at all and if he does it’ll be because of some spiritual insight, not because that man couldn’t keep it in his pants for 5 seconds. I’m deadly afraid of the colourful drug scenes where he’ll hallucinate god. He’ll be the perfect boyfriend and Pattie will be played by Sidney sweeney or something. They won’t take a side with the whole George Or Paul debate during the breakup, but George will be too focused on other things to want to stay in the Beatles. They won’t mention the three billion songs John&Paul deemed unworthy. They’ll never do the grudges my man held justice. No one could

Ringo will be the funny guy who luckily survived his childhood and found his passion through a kind nurse giving him his drumsticks. He’ll play an incredible drum solo at 8 years old on his hospital bed frame the first time he ever holds those sticks. He won’t be in gangs, he won’t beat his wife half to death, he won’t have drugs and alcohol problems. He’ll be peace and love from age 0. He’ll be slightly stupid and he’ll mention octopuses too much. They’ll never get it right how he was truly the eldest and how much his vote and opinion actually counted within the band and how much the boys wanted him in the band and admired him. He won’t be a sort of glue to the band. He won’t marry a teenager he met when she was 16 and he 22. He’ll be a weird version of Ken from the Barbie movie, his job will be Drum. They’ll flatten a severely nuanced and layered man to a sheet of paper with the word ‘beat’ on it

I am too afraid to even think about what they will do to Eppy

Oh and each and every one of them will have way too pretty teeth and I am already furious. I want them to have British men in the 1960s teeth. Give me British teeth and jerking off together

[dylsluvrs]

hi love! can i request a theo x reader something like ‘the moment i knew’ by taylor swift! pretty please with a cherry on top!

hi sweetpea! i love this request, thankyou for asking. i hope i can do it justice! i took a very different turn than i planned to, but i still hope you like it🥰

THE MOMENT I KNEW // THEODORE NOTT X FEM!READER

“i say hopelessly, ‘he said he’d be here.’”

playlist: the moment i knew - taylor swift

summary: in which reader loves her birthday, and theo makes empty promises.

warnings: bad language, angst, hurt/comfort, out of character slytherin group, established relationship.

your birthday had always been your favourite day of the year. you figured it was better than christmas. you loved the season it was in, how pretty the date looked on paper, and you loved the way theo always paid close attention to exactly what you wanted. you weren’t fussy by any means, just particular. you liked a select few people, but your birthday party was always a big bash, the whole of slytherin was always invited. theo made sure you were the centre of attention for everyone.

until he didn’t.

you lay on your bed, anxiously picking at the new colour on your nails, eyes darting back and forth following pansy’s figure. you were already an hour late for your own party, still deciding what to wear. you’d already picked an outfit, but pansy decided it simply wasn’t good enough. it was your seventeenth, you could finally use magic outside of school. this one needed to be special.

“i found it! this one is perfect.” she pulled out a simple yet elegant party dress, holding it up to your body as you lay on the bed, arms by your sides. “right. up you get, put the dress on, and we’re off.” you sighed in relief, quickly slipping on the dress, leaving your legs bare and tugging on a pair of heels she’d sprung from nowhere. “i love it. and so will theo. i bet he’s wondering where you are, you’re never late for your party.”

you hummed in response, touching up the red lipstick you adorned and linking your arm in pansy’s. you grinned as cheers erupted from the common room, the boys running up to you with smiles on their faces. “happy birthday, love.” enzo placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek, clearly having taken advantage of your absence for an hour. mattheo offered a hand, guiding you down the rest of the steps while draco fawned over pansy. “you look gorgeous. don’t tell theo i said that. he might curse me.” blaise’s eyes were wide and you let out a chuckle, eyes darting around the room.

“where is he?” your brows were furrowed, scanning the room in search of your boyfriend. “he’s not here yet…” you frowned, before snapping yourself out of it, bringing a smile to your lips. you were the birthday girl, after all. and appearances were everything. “i’m sure he’ll turn up, sweetheart.” mattheo sent a sympathetic smile in your direction, his eyes already hazy. you nodded, grabbing the drink out of his hand and tipping it down your throat with a wince.

you danced to the music for what seemed like hours, allowing yourself to be passed between the boys as a dance partner, and letting them fuel you up with more alcohol. this was a special birthday, and they’d be damned if you didn’t have a good time. you were constantly bombarded with questions on theo’s whereabouts, and it took everything in you not to cry.

he said he’d be here.

before long, you were staged in the middle of the room, pansy’s dainty hands clapped over your eyes. you heard the soft start of a strained happy birthday song, before pansy peeled her hands away, allowing you to look at the cake that blaise held tightly in his hands.

theo still wasn’t there.

it had gotten late in the night, and students began to leave, giving small goodbyes and stumbling their way to their dorms, until it was just your friends left. “thank you for a truly wonderful birthday, guys. i don’t know what i’d do without you.” they could all see the tears forming in your eyes, sympathetic smiles bombarding your vision. “i think i just need to be alone for a moment.” you excused yourself, bounding up the stairs before the tears could fall.

you fell to your bed, broken sobs escaping your lips. you heard the shuffles of many pairs of feet, listening as they stopped outside your door. hushed whispers that weren’t so hushed. “do you think we should go in?” you heard a faint slap, and a small cry. “no, you toad! he’s spoiled her favourite day. he’ll be lucky i don’t fucking curse him.”

speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

theo walked up the stairs, bleary eyed and heavy, coming to a stop as he saw the huddle of his friends outside your dorm. “what the fuck are you playing at?” as much as mattheo wanted to shout, he kept his voice level, eyes menacing as he glared at the brunette boy. “what?” it was only then that theo took notice of everyone’s appearance. party clothes. “fuck!” he ran his hands through his hair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“i fucking forgot. cara mia? i’m sorry. can you let me in?” blaise and mattheo stood firmly at the door, arms crossed over their chests. this wasn’t intimidating to theo, but pansy’s glare was. “you’re a fucking arsehole, theodore. the one day a year she asks for.” she threw her hands up, storming off with draco in tow.

“let me talk to her.” the boy tried to move towards the door, being pushed back by blaise’s hand on his chest. “let her calm down, mate. she’s heartbroken.” theo sighed in frustration, hand coming forward to knock on the door. “amore, please let me in. i can explain.”

you shuffled to the door, opening it a small amount. you stood there in your pyjamas, makeup smeared across your tear stained cheeks. “it’s okay, matty. let him in.” you placed a soft hand on mattheo’s shoulder, and he smiled sympathetically down at you. he huffed at theo, but nonetheless stepped aside to allow him in the room.

“we’ll stay out here in case you need us, yeah?” if you couldn’t count on your boyfriend, at least you knew you could count on his friends. you closed the door behind you and allowed theo to take in your appearance. your cheeks were covered in tears and mascara, red lipstick smudged across your lips and your hair dishevelled.

“i’m sorry, tesoro. i was with my father, and i completely forgot what today was. it’s been a rough week.” you scoffed, shoving past him to sit on your bed, facing away from him. “it’s not good enough, theo. you said you’d be here. you lied. i spent three fucking hours getting ready, and i had no one there to impress.”

theo ran his hands through his hair again, another frustrated huff leaving his chapped lips. “was it a good party?” your eyes were fixed on him, narrowed. if looks could kill, theo would be dead before he hit the ground. “no thanks to you. your friends had to keep me distracted so i couldn’t think about how my own boyfriend didn’t show up!”

“i’m sorry, piccola. my father-” you tensed up at the mention of the man. you knew how theo loathed his father. maybe even more than you loathed your own. there was a special place in azkaban reserved for him. “i need to show you something. i promise, this is not an excuse for missing your birthday. but please, i’m begging you, amore, don’t be mad.” your heart was pounding in your chest, palms becoming sweaty.

he pulled the sleeve of his shirt up, coming closer to you. he’d invaded your space, the smell of his aftershave surrounding you. you gasped as he turned his arm, watching the way the snake danced across his skin. “teddy…” tears threatened to fall again. the guilt was beginning to creep in. you knew theo wouldn’t miss your birthday for anything short of his own death, but you had been blinded by sadness.

“no, no, tesoro, don’t cry. va bene. tutto andrà bene.” you shook your head, hands grasping at his shirt. you knew mattheo had the dark mark, he was practically given it at birth, but you’d never expected theo’s father to be so evil. “you’re a deatheater, teddy. you-you’re going to have to do horrendous things.”

you knew all about the inner workings of the dark lord’s army, your father had been apart of it for years, and mattheo had been in your dorm crying into your shoulder about the things he’d witnessed. “baby, nothing will happen. we’ll be alright. i’ve got mattheo, okay? we will take care of each other.”

“how will i take care of you now?” you had begun pacing, theo’s hands coming out to grasp your waist, pulling you into his chest with a soothing hand on the back of your head. “i’m supposed to take care of you, cara mia. you are my life.”

“i’ll get one too. you cant face this alone, teddy. we said we’d be with each other through everything. this is everything.” you were mumbling into his chest but he understood every word. he stood back, hands coming up to cup your jaw, eyes poring into your own.

“no. look at me. you are not doing this.” you pushed his hands away, moving yours to grab his jaw now. “yes i am. all i have to do is ask, theo. you know my father’s itching to have me join the dark army. i said i was in this for better or for worse.” theodore knew better than to argue with you. even if you did agree to listen to him, you were cunning enough to take matters into your own hands. either way, your skin would be tainted. either by the dark lord’s hands, or his own. he was fearful. you were the light at the end of the tunnel, but you would always choose to follow him into the darkness.

“forever and always, cara mia.”

“forever and always, teddy.”

[sitp-recs]

back for another rec!

looking for a possessive harry, *especially* if he say or thinks “mine” (!!!)

thanks so much!

Your wish is my command! 🫡🫡

Devour by @digthewriter (E, 1k)

"We fight we break up. | We kiss we make up." Jealous Harry is jealous.

Utterly Yours by @lazywonderlvnd (E, 6k)

Draco gets back at Harry for his late nights as an Auror by flirting with the new Arithmancy professor. Harry's not usually the jealous type, but he has his moments.

Intention by @the-sinking-ship (E, 7k)

Harry really ought to listen to whatever Ron is saying, but it becomes impossible to focus when a familiar figure across the pub curls his fingers around another man’s tie. And when that man leans in with a wolfish smile, Harry sees red, and all he can think is mine.

Once Upon a (Wet) Dream by InnerLilith (E, 13k)

Once a year, Harry has a very strange dream. Meanwhile, in real life, he’s falling for Draco Malfoy.

I've Waited Here for You (Everlong) by heyitsamorette (E, 23k)

Ever since Ginny started dating Blaise, Harry has had to see a lot of Blaise’s friends as well… and with them comes Malfoy. Everyone’s too focused on rebuilding the world after the war to notice that Malfoy is still a dick, so they don’t seem to mind letting him into their little group. But Harry remembers everything, and when he’s not having nightmares from the war or training to become an Auror, he is doing his best not to let himself become friends with Draco Malfoy. And friends with benefits is not actually friends… is it?

In Your Arms, Rests My World by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (E, 24k)

Harry presses his mouth to Malfoy's forehead; he wants to tell him that he’ll never leave, that he wouldn’t dream of it. “You make me feel safe, Potter” Malfoy whispers. “You keep me safe.”

on the divine agony of longing by @flimsi (E, 25k)

Speaking to Draco is like poking a beehive - and Harry is a glutton for punishment. In which Harry makes some serious blunders and then tries to fix it. Somehow.

what husbands are for by @softlystarstruck (E, 52k)

To settle tensions between werewolves and vampires, Harry volunteers for a political marriage. But it turns out he's marrying Malfoy– cold, untouchable Malfoy, who he hasn't seen in ten years. Throughout contention and politics, werewolf pub nights and grudgingly shared meals, they have to make it work. And in the midst of it all, Harry finds something he already gave up hoping for.

Lemon Colour, Honey Glow by @thusspoketrish (E, 67k)

Over a series of unfortunate pub nights at the Leaky Cauldron, Draco Malfoy falls in love. A story about finding strength and forgiveness in unlikely places.

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid (E, 100k)

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost.

Bonus: dark!Harry (pls mind the tags)

I Love You by Curlee_Cue (M, 18k)

Harry knows what love is. It’s something that grows. Something that adapts. Something that sometimes needs a little help along the way. (or the one in which Harry loses his mind)

[paradiseprincesss]

any cillian murphy character with praise? thank you 💗💗

million dollar man - robert fischer x reader

hi anon! i hope i did your request justice - thank you for being my first request! i listened to million dollar man by lana del rey on repeat while writing this, hope you enjoy xoxo.

summary: robert takes you on vacation for your anniversary, and you give him a little late night fashion show in your beach home.

word count: 2k

a/n: if you haven't already noticed all my fics are based off songs LMAO im gonna start linking the songs each fic is based off of kk thats all

warnings: 18+ minors dni!! smut, swearing, kissing, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, sexual content ahead lol

the west coast was breathtaking, the palm trees, warm weather, the beaches - all of it was beautiful.

robert had taken you on vacation to the west coast to celebrate your one-year anniversary together. he paid for it all, of course, and you were ever so grateful for it.

currently, the two of you were speeding down the coast at sunset in the cream coloured luxury convertible he had stored at one of the beach homes he owned down here. the wind was blowing through your hair, his hand was on your thigh, and to tie it all together - the sun was gleaming down on you as it set over the shore.

robert glanced at you while attempting to focus on driving down the coast, but he found himself getting distracted - your beauty was breathtaking, and tonight, you were the only thing he could find himself focusing on.

dating a man worth more than just millions was new to you - but you had adjusted to it just fine over the last year. robert spoiled you, this shouldn't come as a surprise, though.

constantly showering you in gifts; he would buy you designer bags, shoes, clothes, cars, and jewelry - anything you wanted, you could have. at least, that's what he always said.

he gave your thigh a little squeeze as he raced down the road, eventually pulling up the beach house- no, mansion - that he had owned down on the west coast. the home itself was breathtaking, an oceanfront property that screamed luxury. as the car came to a stop on the driveway, robert took your hand and gave it a small kiss. he got out of the car, swiftly coming to the passenger side and opening the door for you.

"come on, honey, i have something i want to show you." he said, helping you out of the car. a curious expression painted your face as he took your hand in his, leading you into the home.

as he opened the door for you - you gasped.

in the large foyer of the home, there were bouquets on bouquets of red roses everywhere - your favourite. amongst the beautiful floral arrangements, there were multiple boxes and bags all with gift wrapping or ribbons on them, from designer stores - goyard, chanel, louis vuitton - you name it.

"robert..." you say softly, looking over at him with your hand still in his, and he smiles at you proudly.

"i love you. happy anniversary." he says, wrapping his arms around you, and kissing you softly.

"i love you too." was all you managed to mumble against his lips - he spoiled you on a daily basis but this - this was something else; you'd never had a partner willingly give you this much for an anniversary before - but you also never dated a millionaire before. as you pulled away from the kiss, you look up at him with a doting expression, "how can i ever thank you for this, robbie? you're so good to me..."

he looks at you with love - and smirks, his voice dropping low.

"i still have one more thing for you upstairs, gorgeous." he whispers, hands snaking down to your ass - giving it a little squeeze.

you bite your lip and nod, as he gestures you to go up the stairs, following you. as you reach the master bedroom - you see even more roses littered all over, and a medium sized white box on the middle of the bed, adorned with a matching white bow, and little white card on the top.

you reached over to pick up the little memo, and it read:

happy anniversary, my angel. i adore you.

love, robert.

glancing down at the box - you read the label, it was from your favourite lingerie store, la perla.

carefully unwrapping the bow and opening the box, you peeked inside to see a gorgeous white italian lingerie set. you let out a shallow breath, and turned around to see him smirking slightly.

"i want to see my little angel dress the part," he says lowly, "why don't you go put that on and give me a little fashion show, hm? how's that sound, angel?"

you look up at him innocently, and bite your lip as you got lost in his icy gaze for a moment, "anything for you."

grabbing the contents in the box, you rush to the bathroom to go try it on for robert. closing the door behind you, you shed your dress and put on the lingerie - complete with a garter belt and straps. looking at yourself up and down in the mirror, you couldn't even lie - you felt so sexy.

the white set he got you was stunning, the white lace sat perfectly on your skin - and the little bow details on the set was the cherry on top. as you were about to step out from the bathroom, you slipped on the white heels that were in the box.

of course he wanted you to wear heels with it - he's just that extra. but hey, he paid god knows what for them, so...

as you opened the door, you found robert sitting on the edge of the bed, his tie visibly loosened now. as he heard the door to the bathroom open, he quickly looked over at you.

"my god," he breathed, "come here, pretty."

following his instructions you walked over to him, his gaze not once leaving your body; drinking your beauty in.

"c'mon, give me a little spin, honey." he coos, throwing pet names left and right at you. doing as you're told, you indeed give him a little spin, and he suddenly gets up, standing behind you.

"bend over the edge of the bed for me, honey." he softly tells you, and again - you do as your told, bending over the bed for him, your white lace panties leaving just about nothing to the imagination.

"god, your body is fucking lethal." he groans, pressing his hard bulge on your clothed cunt, making you moan in bliss at the feeling. "fuck, your moans are just as pretty as you are," he chokes, "my pretty girl."

"robbie..." you moan, and he quickly flips you around onto your back, pushing you onto the bed, making you slightly startled - but you giggle.

"love making you happy," he says, leaving sloppy kisses all over your neck, trailing down to your breasts, "i'd do anything for you, honey - anything. give you the world if i could, fuck."

his hands ghost over the lace and little bow adorning the bra, and the feeling makes you shiver. you were certain that you were already soaking through your panties, and you let out a whimper at the feeling.

he took his time with you - admiring you as if you were an art piece. eventually, he unclasped your bra, and he immediately took your nipple into his mouth. your hand went straight for his hair, and you started moaning breathlessly.

"fuck, robbie, baby." you say, out of breath, "please."

he didn't offer you a reply, instead, he just went straight to the other nipple, and teasingly nipped at it, all whilst snaking a hand down to your clothed cunt - fingers ghosting over your clit. the feeling made you moan and you needed him inside of you - now.

after giving a few more kisses to your breasts, he got on his stomach to lay between your legs, teasingly pulling your panties down and giving you absolutely no time to react before licking a stripe up your cunt.

"fuck." you moaned at the feeling, and you swore you felt him smile against you.

he ate you out as if he hadn't eaten for days - like a starved man. tongue licking every inch of your pussy, sucking your sensitive clit, as his name was falling from your lips like a mantra.

"god, you taste so good." he mumbled against your soaking cunt, and you felt your cheeks heat up at the praise, but he kept going, "pretty face, pretty tits, pretty pussy. you're the fantasy."

that got you moaning, begging - and you felt yourself get close.

"i-i'm, oh- i'm s-so close." you moaned, and he continued to dip his tongue into your hole all while sucking your clit - going back and forth between the two.

you felt that familiar sensation in your stomach, and you felt yourself tip over the edge - incoherently begging, whining and moaning his name over and over.

"you look so fucking pretty when you cum." he softly says, after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand - the sight making you dizzy. your slick on his now even pinker lips and chin, pupils blown out.

scrambling out of desperation, you helped him out of his white button down as he worked on undoing his belt.

"good girl, fuck-" he says as you help him out of his clothing, "you're so well behaved, aren't you pretty girl?"

you smile up at him, still dazed from the way he made you cum just a minute ago, and he pushes you back down on the bed as he stroked his now free cock.

he teased your entrance with the tip of his cock, making you whine. "be good, baby." he warns - but it was gentle, just teasing.

you pout at him but that pout is wiped right off your face as you feel him sink into you, stretching your cunt out completely. you let out an almost pornographic moan, and your hands fly to his shoulders for some sort of support - something to grab onto.

"jesus- fuck, how do you get tighter every time i fuck you?" he groans, fucking into your cunt at a fast pace, making you whimper and moan.

"right there, oh my goddddd." you say, breathlessly, the feeling of cock stretching you out causing you to see stars.

"right there?" he coos, brushing a strand of your tousled hair out of your face, "right there, pretty?"

you just nod frantically, hands gripping his biceps and shoulders - unable to reply from the levels of pleasure he was bringing you in that moment, cock pounding into your tight cunt at a brutal pace.

he felt you tighten around his cock and let out a noise that was fucking filthy - his moans were something you swore you could listen to on repeat, all day, all the time.

"good girl, good fucking girl." he praised through a moan, and you just moaned his name over and over.

"robbie- ah, feels so good!" you whimper, feeling the knot in your stomach about to pop.

"you gonna cum pretty girl? be good for, shit-" he moans, "be good for me and cum." he says in a saccharine voice, his gaze never leaving you, causing you to blush - even though he almost always kept eye contact with you while he fucked you.

his words caused you to scream his name, and you made a mess all over his cock, cumming so hard you felt tears stream down your face.

"look at you-" he groans, feeling himself close to release, cock still pounding into your cunt at a ruthless speed, "so fucking beautiful when you cry. shit, baby, gonna fill you up. stuff you with my cum.”

you found yourself crying under him, tears of love; tears from overstimulation.

"p-please," you weakly say, voice a little raspy, "cum i-in me."

"fuck, i will, good girl..." he groans, shooting his load into your cunt with a moan.

he pulls you into a rough kiss, which you moan into as you felt his warm seed being stuffed into your cunt.

he pulls away after a moment, panting and out of breath - a small smile on his face. after a few beats of silence, he puts his hand on your cheek, cupping your face gently - lovingly.

"happy anniversary, pretty girl."

[sl-vega]

Hi there! Recently stumbled upon your Hiori piece (I Don’t Know Much, But I Know I Want You) and Oh. My. Gosh. It’s amazing!! The story was so cute and I also love the little Karasu interactions you threw in; it matches their characters so well and it’s so well written! If you ever feel motivated or inspired to do so, I’d love to see where you’d take the piece in a part 2! No pressure of course, I just think that seeing how they’d interact in your writing would be really awesome. Currently on my way to binge read every other work of yours; I love your writing style o7

Thanks for reading my ask and have a lovely day!! :)

˚୨୧⋆｡ MALL MEET CUTES

part one // part two

pairing: Hiori Yo x [FEM!] Reader

genre: fluff, oneshot, classmates to lovers, friends to lovers (?), pre-bluelock au/canon compliant

synopsis: hiori is still pretty damn smitten when it comes to you, so like the lovesick fool he his, he decides to drag karasu to the mall with him to help him find a gift to impress you, of course, in a strange turn of events it turns out you're at the mall too, so whatever shall our poor loverboy do when he sees you? (or in which hiori "soccer genius" yo, is dumb enough to ask karasu of all people for girl advice, and karasu like the wonderful friend he is, tags along for the drama)

CW/additional tags: mild language, potentially ooc, i actually did research on a mall in kyoto so look at me go, might make a part three if i really feel like it

author's note: AKJFJFHAFHKJ TYYY ANON YOU'RE SO SWEET, i'm so glad you liked the first part and all of hiori + karasu's interactions, it really means a lot to me that you thought i did them justice <3

"Would getting her makeup be a good idea?"

Hiori asked his senior as he stood outside of COLOUR STUDIO, it was a cosmetics store that he heard the girls in his class talk about occasionally , you among them.

"Or would that be too intimate? Do ya' think she'd think I'm trying too hard? Maybe we should've just stuck to stationery...."

Hiori bombarded Karasu with questions as he sighed and stared up at the daunting illuminated white sign of the shop.

His friend groaned and grabbed the sleeve of Hiori's light blue sweat shirt, dragging him into the store where a few employees and clerks gave them slightly concerned looks.

"No, we're here now so we may as well get something."

Karasu chastised his younger teammate as he escorted him into the lip product aisle, in which Hiori found himself surrounded by many unfamiliar brands with colourful packaging.

"Ya' sure know yer' way around Karasu, have ya' been here before?"

"I've been to their branch over in Osaka, my sister makes me get 'er shit whenever she runs out..."

Karasu plucked a small box from the middle of the shelf, making a point to read the label and the brand to make sure it was the one he needed.

"So what are you gonna get yer' special girl?"

He asked teasingly, as his slender fingers clutched around the small container he was holding.

"I dunno actually...I was hoping you might help me?"

Hiori replied, chuckling nervously. He already knew that Karasu had an older sister, so must have some knowledge on these kinds of things.

His teammate seemed to deadpan at his friend's request, feigning a hurt expression at his friend's question.

"So I'm just a personal shopping assistant to ya'? I'm hurt Hiori."

Karasu gave him a playful pout before breaking into a mild fit of laughter after Hiori swatted his shoulder. The older boy promptly turned to one of the shelves and tossed Hiori a small pink tube of lip gloss.

"Get 'er this one, the quality is pretty good and it has a reasonable price."

Karasu said nonchalantly as his back was still turned, still browsing through some of the shelves. Hiori looked down at the product tube and read out the label to himself.

"Canmake Candy Wrap Lip..."

He muttered as he rotated the slender cylinder in his hand, reading the adhesive tag on it, he realized that Karasu was right, the price was within his budget, and the packaging was rather cute, not to mention how the tube itself contained a good amount of product.

He was about to thank his friend before realizing that Karasu was back at the front counter of the store, probably asking one of the employees for help with finding something.

Observing his surroundings, Hiori thought that browsing the shop a little bit more couldn't hurt, he still had plenty of funds to spare, more than enough to buy you something else.

Hiori continued to browse the current aisle he was in, allowing his fingers to brush against the array of cosmetics, all neatly sorted and arranged by brand, type, and flavour.

As he continued to run his hand along the rows upon rows of products, he stumbled across another area of products that caught his eye.

"Rohto Mentholatum Lip Balm..."

He read the mini card board sign that was clipped to the shelf as he observed the packaging. The one's that were currently stocked were said to be peach flavoured, the price seemed fairly reasonable as well.

Now, that he thought about it, having a lip balm on hand would be pretty practical, Hiori hated the feeling of his chapped lips. Plus, he deserved some kind of reward.

Hiori reached for one of the tubes, and right before he was about to take the lip balm from the shelf, his fingers brushed against a stranger's hand who was reaching for the exact some one.

On instinct, Hiori pulled away, muttering a quick apology. He turned to said stranger to say tell them that they could take it before realizing that said stranger wasn't a stranger at all.

"Oh! Hiori?"

Oh God, it was you

"H-hey!"

He managed to squeak out as you gave him a soft smile, he was surprised he hadn't made a complete fool of himself yet. Without realizing it, he had promptly shoved the tube of lip gloss he was going to buy for you into his back pocket.

"Hi! I didn't realize you were the shopping type Hiori."

You greeted him once more as you observed the hand that quickly pocketed the lip tube, you didn't press any further however.

"Oh, I'm not actually, I'm just getting a gift for someone special..."

Hiori chuckled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. He chastised himself for his wording, of course he had to say it like that, now if he gave you the gift you'd know for sure that he liked you.

But then again, that would spare him the humiliation of actually having to say it directly to your face, not that he ever wanted to confess in the first place...

"Someone...special? I didn't know you had a girlfriend Hiori..."

You trailed off, you sounded disappointed almost.

Hiori's face flushed at your words, he didn't mean to give you that idea. He could slowly feel heat creep up his neck as you continued to stare at him.

"Guess I shouldn't be that surprised..."

This time you were avoiding eye contact, you laughed somewhat bitterly. Were you jealous? Part of Hiori wanted to delude himself into thinking that, but another part of him wanted to die right there and then to avoid making a bigger fool out of himself.

"N-No I don't have a girlfriend actually!"

He assured you as his face turned an even brighter shade of red.

Where was Karasu when ya' needed him?

Suddenly, Hiori felt a light tap against his head. It was Karasu! His knight in shining armor, to save him from the train wreck of a conversation. His teammate was holding a small basket full of a few products, some mascara, eye liner, and a few skin cream tubs among them.

"I'm gonna go check out now, are ya' done yet?"

His friend asked as he rested his hand on Hiori's shoulder, Karasu looked up at you, realizing that there was company present.

The silence that followed was deafening.

You glanced between the two boys, you had recalled Karasu from Hiori's youth team, but you didn't know much about the older boy, but you had spotted him hanging around Hiori pretty frequently, so you assumed that they were fairly close.

"Oh, I'm sorry am I interrupting something?"

You questioned as your eyes flickered between the two of them, your head was tilted slightly in curiosity. You noticed Karasu's grip on Hiori's shoulder tighten ever so slightly at the sound of your question.

Hiori shook his head frantically, Karasu was probably giving you that same unsettling stare he always used whenever he was sizing someone up on you.

"No! Not at all! But I should get going right about now..."

He assured you that nothing was wrong, but he was already flustered enough, and there was no way Karasu would let him hear the end of whatever this incident should be labelled as.

"Well I'll see you school I guess!"

You flashed him another bright smile before turning to Karasu, and you gave the older boy a curt and quick bow.

"I'm (Y/N), Hiori's classmate, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Karasu was caught off guard by your sudden politeness, but he returned the favour.

"Karasu."

He stated quickly before taking Hiori's hand in his own, you seemed to take note of this.

You were about to walk away, so you waved to them before saying;

"Have fun on your date!"

Wait what?!

If Hiori's face was red before, it was basically crimson by now. The girl he liked not only thought he was taken, but now she thought he was into guys?!

"W-we're not!-He's not-I'm not-"

Karasu simply wheezed at the current predicament, clearly amused by your assumption of Hiori and him's relationship and by his younger friend's sudden flustered expression.

"I wish! Don't worry yer' pretty little head off though, he's still avaliable∼. He's quite taken with you at that too."

Karasu teased as he winked at Hiori, clearly taking sadistic pleasure in his friend's suffering.

"Karasu!"

Hiori whisper shouted as his friend dragged him out the store, still laughing as the cyan-haired boy continued his flustered protests which bore no fruit.

Well at least you knew how he felt now...

BONUS!

"This is why I told ya' to quit flirting with me like that! People are getting the wrong idea about us..."

"Aww but I can't have random girls stealing you away from me∼"

"Shut up ya' stupid crow!"

"Make me prodigy∼"

[gumbootillustrations]

laurance's ref sheet!! it only took me a month and two different versions to finish lol

but yeah. backstory, lore, closeups, etc under the cut :3

laurance is the adopted son of hayden zvahl, a blacksmith, and joh zvahl, a jeweller, and grew up in meteli alongside his adoptive sister cadenza. cad's the reason why his hair is bright red when aph meets him en route to scaleswind - he's been dyeing it this colour since he was young so that he and cadenza could match and look more like siblings. as such, much of his colour scheme is based around soft reds and oranges, with some golds thrown in. additionally, his earrings (although u can't really see them here) were made by joh, alongside most of his other jewellery, before joh passed away a couple of years prior to aph showing up outside of phoenix drop. his armour is also a lot lighter than garroth and katelyn's due to his fighting style prioritising speed and mobility over strength and endurance - that, and the fact that he works around water a lot and can't let metal weigh him down too much.

after ungrth drags him out of the nether, laurance's colour scheme undergoes a major change - instead of being based around reds and golds, it shifts to be focused around greens and browns. laurance also dyes his hair back to its natural colour (brown), and due to the trauma of being forced through the realm barrier (and having his eyes cut out multiple times by gene), his eyes fade to a pale, milky green. there are other physical changes that come with being turned as well - his nails turn into talons, his ears become pointed, and, due to his now-undead nature, his heart stops beating. he also loses the need to breathe, although he keeps doing so to keep up the facade of being human (he really doesn't want to acknowledge the fact that he's undead now). however, around the start of season three (right before the main cast makes the trip to tu'la), he decides to dye his hair red again and return to the reds and golds that he loves (something something "reclaiming his fire" something something). it also doesn't help that his hair has started growing in a bright copper ever since they returned from o'khasis and xavier's relic had gone missing. surely these events can't be connected

not too many comments about laurance's out-of-armour/casual/tu'la arc outfit. his eyesight's dogshit now (due to the aforementioned events surrounding his turning n escape from the nether) so he technically needs glasses, but he never wears them unless someone (usually garroth) tells him to.

with laurance's shadow knight form, i rlly wanted to showcase how unnatural it is to him. it's big, and bulky, and covered in spikes n shit - it's entirely antithetical to laurance and his fighting style. personally, i think that a shadow knight's armour adapts to their fighting style and personality over time, but because laurance like. never uses this form it doesn't get the chance to adapt to him, although i added in a doodle of what his form might've evolved to look like had he used it more often.

uhh shadow knight lore stuff. shad is a psychopomp - at least, the fragment of his soul/essence/whatever that didn't get totally fucked up by the void is. however, the shadow lord (aka the fragment of shads soul/essence/whatever that did) tends to snatch souls that either a) die in the nether (like laurance n sasha) or b) are deemed to be useful to his cause of destroying irene (like gene and vylad) to make into shadow knights. different things play into how powerful a shadow knight is - gene, being part-mer'ai, being a descendant of kul'zak, and having memory manipulation magicks, is pretty powerful already, but when he's made into a death knell (aka a general in the shadow lord's army) his power can pretty much rival a relic wielder. laurance mayyyybe could've become a death knell if he wanted to, but unfortunately he has a stupid strong sense of justice so uh. yeah.

all shadow knights do get a boon from the shadow lord - it usually reflects their personality, their soul, or their past, and it always centres around blood, fire, or shadows (or a mix of some or all of these - for example, zenix's boon is that his blood essentially acts like napalm). laurance's reflects his childhood in meteli, a town built in a saltmarsh/estuary - his blood is stupid acidic (like acidic enough to melt through flesh, bone, and metal if he's not careful). however, for a long time, he assumes that his boon is being able to alter the temperature of metal (as sasha has told him that all shadow knight's blood is poisonous on some level - he just doesn't know that his blood is particularly poisonous) until vylad tells him that it probably isn't metal related.

uhh more lore stuff - this time regarding xavier, his relic, and plot stuff.

zane absorbs xavier's relic (sort of unwillingly?? like he wants power, and he wants to try and push back against his father's influence, but if he's being honest he would've preferred to take on esmund's relic (which is missing. weird.) but beggars can't be choosers so eh it's whatever), but because not everyone can wield a relic and not every relic can be wielded by every relic-wielder it sort of starts to eat away at his soul and fuck him up. this leads to the climactic battle of s1 in irene's cathedral dimension, which ends when garroth (who gets possessed by esmund's relic) kills zane by ripping xavier's relic out of him. when they get back to the overworld and realise what exactly that weird fuckoff hunk of metal that garroth yanked out of zane's chest is, they decide to give it to garroth for safe keeping - only for the relic to go missing when the main cast breaks into an occupied o'khasis to rescue zianna, although they don't realise it until they return home to phoenix drop. it's around this time that laurance travels to new meteli to catch up with cadenza and get her to dye his hair orange again, only for cadenza to discover that his hair is growing in a bright copper. they... sort of brush this off as a weird shadow knight biology thing until laurance gets into a fistfight with gene and transforms for the first time. it's a bit of a mess but hey we got there in the end.

but yeah i decided to tweak his design a lil bit from my lineup of the second war of the magi's divine warriors because i wasn't suuper happy w how his chestplate turned out n i wanted to tutu w it a bit.

anyway. laurance's ref sheet is fucking finally done. the next ref sheet will probs be either katelyns or an updated ref sheet for garroth since ive tinkered w his protector form a Lot and i probs need to add in a cold weather outfit (laurance doesnt need one bc shadow knights r weird n basically space heaters anyway) and his juror form.

as always, let me know if u have any questions!! :D

[vitaminkyeom]

[12:52]

PAIRING || Seungkwan x Female Reader

GENRES || Fluff

WARNINGS || none

WORD COUNT || 0.8k

A/N || based on this request! gurl why did you give me a hex code IT WAS SO HARD FINDING THE COLOUR I HOPE THIS DOES JUSTICE TO WHAT YOU WANTED THO TT 1k followers event [if you want to be added to the event taglist send an ask!]

TAGLIST || @prpldahy @yoonzinokim @sea-moon-star @hanicore @alyssng

@amethyistheart @weebotakuboy @aaniag @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts

@hrts4hanniehae @athanasiasakura @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @asasilentreader @isabellah29

@mrswonwooo @wonvsmile @nonononranghaee @luv-uriboo @hoichi-02 [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]

seungkwan turned to his side, feeling a sudden coldness hit him as his arms fell on the cold bedsheet. frowning, he opened one eye, wondering why you had moved away from him at night.

but all he was met was with his own reflection on the mirror beside the bed staring back at him, tiredness etched all over his face. 

all of a sudden he was wide awake, now very aware that you were no longer sleeping beside him. there was no way he had overslept, right? he craned his neck to look at the alarm clock on the table. 5:30, it read. had you already gone out for the morning run? but there was no way you would go without him, right? besides, seungkwan was sure he could hear the rain tapping against the window, indicating that it was raining quite heavily.

“baby?” he finally called out, his voice sounding groggy to his own ears. pushing himself up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, seungkwan scanned the room, straining his ears to hear if there was any sound coming from the bathroom at least.

a wave of cold wind blew against him and his eyes landed on the balcony, the french doors were wide open  and as the curtain swung in due to the wind, he caught a glimpse of your legs. sighing and rolling out of the bed, he trudged towards the balcony and stepped out.

he immediately regretted it because the cold wind hit him harshly, and while you had smartly adorned a jacket over your body (he had just noticed), he was still wearing his thin pyjamas. 

“y/n.” he muttered, moving closer to wrap his arms around you from behind, so that he could feel your warmth. he buried his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your comforting scent, and you placed your own arms over his. “you nearly scared me, baby.”

“did i, kwannie?” you muttered, melting into his warm touch. you hadn’t even realised how cold it was. “sorry, love. i just wanted you to get plenty of rest since its your day off.”

“yeah, but i missed you.” he whined, causing you to giggle a little. 

“come on, it was just a few minutes! besides, i couldn’t resist. the sky looks so pretty, doesn’t it?” you asked, looking towards your side to kiss his head lightly. seungkwan looked up a little, squinting at the sky.

“yeah… you’re right.” sky being pretty was an understatement, to be honest. it looked breath taking with its greyish blue clouds, the sound of the rain falling surprisingly calming him down more than he thought it would. and then there was your scent and warmth.

seungkwan knew that no matter where he was or what mood he was in, your presence would always be like coming home for him. you always put his mind at ease, cheering him up even when he was in his worst condition. he loved you so much that right now, he wouldn’t have given up anything in this world in exchange for this quiet, sweet moment with you.

“you don’t sound convinced, though?” you asked. he could hear the teasing in your voice so he decided to play along. he looked at you with a pout.

“i mean…  surely its not as pretty as me?”

you stared at him for a second, before the corner of your eyes crinkled in the way that always made his heart flutter. “i don’t know kwan. it does look prettier than you. but maybe not as pretty as chan-”

“okay! that’s enough!” he declared, before twirling you around in his arms and dipping you a bit. you shrieked and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, though he was holding you by your waist, both of you laughing all the while. 

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry! you’re the prettiest person for me!” you laughed. he smiled at you, trying very hard to suppress the urge to kiss you then and there as he continued to tease you. “you’re sure? because if you’re not-”

“yes!” and before he could reply to that, you grabbed his face and smashed your lips against his, knocking out all his breath from his lungs. seungkwan stumbled a little due to the sudden spark that passed all over his body, but he managed to gain balance almost immediately again, deepening the kiss by bringing an arm below your shoulder.

when you broke apart, he was completely out of breath and still in shock, staring at you with his mouth slightly open. your eyes were shining as you smiled softly at him, still cupping his face, and he felt himself fall all over in love with you again. 

“you’re the prettiest man in this world, boo.” you whispered softly, still smiling at him. pulling you up, he kissed you once again, this time softly. 

“yeah.” he said, breaking from the kiss to look at you. “i know i’m the prettiest man in this world.”

“boo seungkwan!”

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

[andy-wm]

Andy, I dont think JM is queer, coz in WHO he is singing about a her, not a they.

She/her pronouns leave no scope for ambiguity.

Anon, that's like me saying 'Anonymous' must be your real name because that's who the ask came from.

Makes sense?

No.

No it does not.

If the pronouns were THEY, Jimin would be

a) slammed for being woke

and

b) not clearly telling you that he lives in a society that makes him think his love MUST be a she/her. And he can't find love, he can't find it anywhere.

If he had grown up thinking he could find love with (he/she/they... any pronouns) don't you think he would have found it by now? I mean, look at him, he's so beautiful and kind and smart. How could he not find someone?

Would he be singing songs about how he can't find love?

The way he specifically says HER tells you THAT'S WHERE THE PROBLEM LIES.

Please, Anon (not your real name, yeah?)

Please, for your future self, for you to navigate the information you encounter every day, don't just grab the first thing you see and run with it. Sure, consider your immediate reaction, but also consider what else might be happening.

Because theres always more than one way to look at a situation.

(Thats why we have a jury of 12 and courts of law, and we don't just let people claim revenge for perceived wrongs by vigilante justice. Because there's two sides to a story, and you need different perspecives to see all the angles.)

Critical thinking skills are important because often messages are hidden.

Sometimes it's because the author wants you to misunderstand at first, because their real meaning will have more impact when you discover it later.

Sometimes there are two different messages directed at two different types of audience (like kids movies with adult jokes hidden in them)

Sometimes it's because they actually cannot say what they really want to say because they aren't allowed to or because it'snot safe or because they simply don't want to be upfront.

In the case of this song, it's all three of those reasons.

Context clues tell us that this album is very queer themed. There are rainbows and smeraldo flowers everywhere.

Smeraldo flowers LITERALLY mean a hidden truth/ truth untold/ I couldn’t tell the truth.

The original posts about Smeraldo flowers are translated here:

You'll find this here: https://cafearmy.wordpress.com/category/flower-smeraldo-blog-post-translations/page/2

There are also clues in the WHO music video - the extended metaphor of the weather, and the rainbows and colour flares. These tell us THERE'S MORE GOING ON HERE.

Read the lyrics and also watch the mv and think about what you are hearing and seeing.

Follow the story and think about WHY everything is happening the way it happens.

The director didn't just randomly yell "ok dance! Now run a bit, now look at the camera, now sing!"

There's a plan. The plan is based on a story they're telling. The story has an ending that THEY ALREADY KNOW, but that we don't.

Until we've seen the whole thing and thought about it, and then gone back to see what we missed the first time around, we dont know.

Like Spring Day isn’t REALLY about the seasons, and Bapsae isnt about birds, and The Truth Untold isn't about growing flowers.

Go back and watch the MV with the audio muted and think about the story thr MV tells without the music.

Read the lyrics as though you are reading a poem.

Genuinely, i care about this (i am a school librarian Anon, i wouldn’t be one if i didn't care about how people interact with information) so listen and think about it.

Then come back and tell me if you still think he's not queer because the pronouns in this song are she.

Borahae 💜

[fandxmslxt69]

One and Only

Prince!Loki x f!asgardian noble!reader

Warnings: um none. maybe a few grammar errors or weird sentences, some suggestive content (mentions of sex like once) Reader is mentioned to be wearing a green silky dress, and Loki is sort of wearing his suit adjacent to the one in Avengers + His horns.

A/N: Dearest lovely @fictive-sl0th - first of all, thank you for organising this amazingly fun Secret Santa event for us- it's been so much fun and I'm happy that it's my first event on Tumblr! Secondly, I truly hope you enjoy this little thing Camille- your prompt was so much fun and I hope I did it justice!

Synopsis: Loki is forced to find a bride, and things take a turn when a familiar face shows up.

Prompt: King Odin wants Loki to marry so he orders him to pick a bride during the annual yule ball. (He’s not amused haha) But things take a spicy turn when you show up and turn out to be a coveted noblewoman instead of the tempting, mysterious villager you pretended to be during all your earlier accidental encounters. In the end Odin gets what he wants ;)

Word count: 2.7k

“It’s time to do something useful. You will find a bride as soon as possible, Loki. With my heir off playing dress up on Midgard, I have none but you to wed off,”“Now, I’m sure Thor will come back with a nice bride-” 

“Asgard will NOT have a mortal woman as its first bride. Not now, not ever. It’s decided. This year’s Yule ball will be to find you a bride. Only Asgard’s finest, most eligible women will be up for a chance at marriage with you,” 

Loki grumbled to himself as the maids fussed over him. This was useless. Loki had no desire for marriage for another few centuries. His mood went from poor to sour to downright depressed and cynical as the days counted down to Yule. He thought perhaps someone would talk some sense into Odin, and yet there was a sinking feeling in his stomach after Odin declared his choice that told him he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. 

One of the maids tucked too hard on his cape, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Watch it,” he snapped. The maid muttered a quick apology, but before he could get another word in, there was a knock at the door before Frigga stepped in. 

Loki felt himself relax as she walked into his room, taking her time to look him over as she walked closer. “I’ll take it from here,” She addressed the women softly. They nodded and hurried out the door, but Loki couldn’t help letting out a groan while watching them hurry out. “I’ve scared them out of their minds,” “Now now,” Frigga stood beside him as she smiled at him in the mirror. “I’m sure Ingrid understands the stress you’re under,” Loki grumbled again under his breath. “I will find her later, to apologise,” Frigga hummed as she fussed at his clothes. He was wearing his finest Asgardian leather, the colours of the armour were a deep green and a rustic black only leather could give off. Frigga had ensured the suit stayed in the best conditions, even going as far as ordering the gold arm plates remade to be in perfect condition. He looked like the perfect image of the Asgardian prince. Regal and poise, and impeccable fashion taste. Even his head piece was polished thoroughly, and it lay on his bed, waiting for him to pick it up and wear it. His signature horns. His signature dress. 

He’s just missing that signature Loki grin. But he had no intention of giving anyone that smile. It was already someone’s. He had no desire to share it with another. 

“What are you thinking about?” Frigga had stopped fussing over him and stood behind him, watching him intently through the mirror.

“Nothing,” He lied quickly. 

“Nothing?” He nodded. “Exactly. Nothing,” She hummed, turning around to grab his horns from the bed. “Very well. I do hope we get to see that girl you’ve been sneaking off to see. Perhaps she will be a good fit,” He nodded, the words not registering until a few seconds later. His eyes widened, and he spun around to look at her. “What? What girl?” He closed the distance between him and his mother, grabbing his horns from her. “There is no girl. There’s never been a girl. What are you talking about?” 

Frigga raises her eyebrows. “Right…”

He nodded, carefully placing the horns on his head. There is no girl. Not anymore. 

She won’t even be there, so what’s the point?

“I don’t think there is anyone for me,” The words fell out of his lips before he could stop them.

Frigga’s eyes softened. “My dear boy, if I can see everything you hold, I know someone out there can too,”

Yes, he thought. She can, but what about everyone else? Odin? What did he think? The thoughts only soured his mood even more. “Perhaps we should go now,” He said curtly, holding his arm out for his mother. Frigga smiled softly, an edge of sadness in her eyes. 

“Very well,” She said, hooking her arm around his as they left his room.

*                                                               *                                                               *

Asgard’s usually plain ballroom had transformed itself to fit the spirit of Yule. Decked in only the most lavish of decorations, the ballroom glittered and sparkled as people settled in, women dressed in their finest robes and men in only their best attire. Loki stood by his mother and Thor as Odin drilled on, giving thanks to those who came, and promising a dance to every woman from Loki before he was to pick his bride. With every word he spoke, Loki felt a shiver run down his neck. He had no desire to be here, but this was not the first time he had been forced to forget about his own feelings and opinions, so he knew how to power through the night. 

You stood in your own corner with your mother, who made comments at everyone she could get her hands on. You only rolled your eyes or muttered a word in conversation, your mind too preoccupied. You had no idea how to feel about coming. At first, you had no desire to go. Why, all of a sudden, was Loki wanting to get married? Had he not told you, mere days ago, that he had no intention to run his life? It’s silly, it’s not like you were in love with him (maybe a little) or betrothed to him, but it still felt like a small dagger to your heart. Then, you thought perhaps he had a change of heart. Or perhaps it was his mother’s idea. Perhaps you even had a chance. He knew you, at least. He flirted with you, outside of this castle at least. And then you remembered that he only actually knew you as the girl he ran into at the village. And suddenly, bile rose up your mouth and you threw your invitation out. 

But naturally, your mother wasted no chances to shove you with any respectable man, and a prince is as respectable as they come- and there was nothing in the Nine Realms that could have stopped her from going to the Yule Ball. So here you found yourself, in your finest green silks (unintentional) and the best pieces of your gold as your mother fussed over every piece of hair out of place. 

You watched Loki from your corner as he danced with the first few women. He had a polite smile on his hands, and a few times you heard him laugh at something one of them would say, and your gut twisted and your lunch made its way up your throat. The laughs brought you back to your own secret encounters with him, nights you spent wandering the village and exchanging stories. You remembered the first time you made him laugh so freely, and it unlocked a new desire in you- to make him laugh for eternity. 

Perhaps that was a little too obsessive at the time. But you couldn’t blame it on yourself. Loki was the kind of man who wormed his way into the heart and nested there forever. Once he was in, there was no way to flush him out of your system. Certainly not after knowing what lay beneath his clothes and his….various talents. A blush crept up your neck just at the thought of those sensual nights with him- frantic, urgent and allconsuming. 

When he laughed with his new partner, something hard set in your gut. Maybe you didn’t have the best chance at winning this, but Norns, you were going to make sure he knew those laughs were yours first. 

You handed your glass to your mother, ensuring that your dress was in its best condition, and  fixed the draped piece of fabric over your shoulders. You could feel all eyes on you as you walked as elegantly as you could to Loki as the song ended. “Your Highness,” You interrupted politely, and the woman shot you a dirty look. “Am I have your next dance?” Loki began to say something before he fell silent, his eyes widening a fraction as they took in your face, and then trailing down your body. He made a noise at the back of his throat as he reached for your hand, motioning with the other for the songs to recommence. “Of course,” He said, although it sounded strained.

You smiled, stepping closer as he pulled you up against him, your bodies moving in sync to the music, your name fell from his lips in a stunned whisper. 

“What are you doing here? Did you sneak in?” Loki asked in disbelief. 

You laughed quietly. “No, Your Highness, I got my invitation like everyone else here,” He frowned, that pretty sculpted face of his scrunching up. “What? But…I thought- you’re just-” “A simple village girl?” You finished for him.

He paused, then looked almost offended. “Darling, simple is an offensive word to use to describe yourself. Nothing about you is ‘simple’,” Your heart skipped a beat, and those butterflies erupted in your stomach again. “Thank you, Your Highness,” “Oh quit that,” He said as he spun you around. “You say it like you don’t know me,” 

“Perhaps I don’t,” You replied.

“You know me better than all the others in this room,” He leaned in, smiling softly. “How in the Nine Realms did you get here, darling?” You bit your lip, trying to fight back the stupid smile from spreading across your face. “I told you, I got my invitation. I came here with my mother,” He hummed. “So, you are not a villager,” He frowned slightly at his own stupidity. How had he not asked before- in all your recent encounters? Perhaps the mystery that came with you was too addictive- the ability to leave behind all masks and remain bare to a complete stranger was…a safe haven, he supposed. You did know more about him than anyone else attending tonight. Secrets he’d never shared. Jokes he never told. Books he had no one to talk with. No one but you. You held so much of him, and he thought he held so much of you- but how much of it was real? You giggled. “No, I am not,” “Hm. Cheeky. It seems I have been fooled,” “Not…fooled. Simply….misguided. An inaccurate conclusion. I assure you though, I had no intentions of deception. I stand true to every other word I said,” You added, as if you could read his face, as if you could hear the worries and doubts in his mind. “But you never said you were noble,” You shrugged. “And you never asked,” A smile tugged at his lips, an odd sense of comfort settling in him. You were still…you. “No…I suppose I never did,” He leaned in then, dropping his voice to a whisper, “You look ravishing tonight, though. How have I never seen you in such a fine colour?” 

You blushed really then, looking up to meet his piercing eyes. “You look quite good in that colour yourself, Loki,” 

He chuckled, offering no other reply as you continued to dance. Soon, the song ended, and you stepped back from each other. Before you could turn to leave and potentially cry and laugh your heart out, he took your hand and leaned down, placing a soft kiss on it. He looked back up at you, and Norns, how gorgeous he really looked- all smirks and piercing eyes and those horns. “I hope to have another dance soon, my lady,” You nodded quickly, your mind short circuiting as another woman came up to ask for his next dance. You stepped back, before speed walking back to your spot by your mother. Of course, she shot a billion questions an hour, but you only ignored her, eyes focused on the man dancing at the centre of the room, glowing brighter than even the sun. 

Time passed, and you had no idea how many dances Loki went through before other pairs began to join. You danced with a few, but really your mind kept wandering back to Loki. 

When was he going to ask you that second dance? Was he really going to? 

Maybe he had somehow telepathically heard you, because just as you finished your dance with a nice gentleman, Loki stood from his seat at the front- having taken a break from dancing- and made his way back to the dance floor. 

The entire ballroom held its breath, and you stupidly turned around as if to make conversation with the person closest to you, or even run. Before you even had the chance to utter a sentence to a poor woman whose face looks pale with fear, your name rang loudly throughout the ballroom, coming from none other than the most handsome prince you had even laid eyes on. You turned around slowly, face tilted up to meet his eyes. “Your Highness?” He held out his hand, a smile tugging at his lips. “May I have another dance?” Everything felt deathly still as Loki led you back to the centre of the floor, and the music started again. You danced and you twirled across the floor, hand in hand with Loki as he grinned widely at you. He didn’t grin like that at anyone tonight. Maybe you were reading into the situation too much, but your heart melted just from his smile and the way his eyes held such pure joy as you danced through not one, but two, but three songs. By the end, you were breathless, partly from dancing, but partly from his fixing gaze and the overwhelming urge to kiss him. Even after all the times you’ve met, you were always consumed with the need to kiss him, to touch him, to run your hands through his hair and trace every line of his body. He was addictive, and while you had always thought love took its time to settle in, some part of you always knew that Loki might just be it. 

You were nearly drowning in the colour of his eyes, and that soft, bright smile he wore for you. Your face hurt from how hard you were smiling at him, and you were so close- just a little higher and your lips could connect with his. It was almost trance like, how soft his lips looked were hypnotic, and the way he eyed yours with a desperate need only encouraged you. You leaned up, he leaned down a little, arm wrapped around your body, lips almost touching and-

“Ahem,” Odin stood from his throne, and you felt the spell shatter. Damnit. 

“I believe,” Odin paused, his eye landing on you and Loki, who jumped apart from one another like you were set on flames. Your cheeks were flushed, avoiding the eyes of everyone, and Loki stared right ahead at Thor, who you noticed was smiling widely and making incredibly disturbing faces at his brother. “Prince Loki has found a bride,” 

Loki’s eyes flickered to you, his mouth opening to argue with Odin. Probably to argue- to say that he hadn’t even asked for your opinion, to add that marriage takes time, or should be considered and debated. 

Maybe you were foolish, or a little too desperate, or maybe it was the magic of Yule that possessed you, but you simply smiled and gave a little bow to Loki. 

“You-,” He swallowed, looking around nervously. “You would accept? If I asked you to be my wife?” 

You smiled widely. “Would you wish for me to be your wife?” A pause, then a small nod. “I don’t think there is anyone else I’d like to share my jokes with,” Your heart was pretty much exploding in your chest. Your hands were definitely shaking, and you thought you might just pass out right then. “Well, lucky you, because I only want your jokes, and I only want your smiles and your laughs to be mine. I…I would be honoured, to be your wife, and to call you my husband, Loki,” 

Sounds of cheer echoed around you, and Loki’s face broke out into the widest grin you had ever seen as he looked at you like he had just handed him the world. “I had no idea you were obsessed with me,” He said, though you could barely hear his words over the sound of festivals. 

“Maybe a little,” You replied, and his grin only widened. 

“Well, I’m obsessed with you a lot,” He tugged you closer to him, sealing your lips in a kiss.

Tags: @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman

[littlexscarletxwitch]

hii! can i request a florence pugh x reader where the reader and flo are out at a club but have not met before, and then someone tires to make a move on flo that she doesn’t want so the reader protects her? if not that’s okay! :)

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂?

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): kinda fluffy, flirty flo and r, protective (more like possessive lol) r, i hate men :)

warning(s): some dude harassing flo, mentions of alcohol, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.2 k

note: So sorry it took me so long to get back to you, nonnie. I really hope you like it, tho I'm not sure if I did you idea justice lol. On the other hand, I fished all of my exams so that means more time to write. Therefore I might update twice a week, or as I keep on finishing up fics. Lots of love, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

The loud music, the low colourful lights and the cold drink in your hands felt like heaven but nothing could compare to those lovely soft green eyes. 

You had been watching her the entire night, unable to take your eyes off of her. The way she would laugh with her friends scrunching her nose, the way she would swing her hips, the way she would gulped down her drink made you all flustered and bothered. Maybe it was just the alcohol but she was really beautiful to look at, so you didn’t mind at all. 

Florence knew you were watching, she could feel your eyes burning holes all over her body. But the thing was that she loved it. She took glances at you as well, when she felt like you were not looking at her. And she was really pleased by the sight: bright smile, kind eyes and lips she would love to taste. 

But neither of you dare to make a move, god only knew why the two of you were being so silly. And so the night went on, the two of you stealing glances at each other, Florence from the middle of the crowd and you from your stool at the bar. It was really stupid, but it also felt like a game, a secret code only the two of you knew about. 

As she took her glass to her lips, her eyes searched for your frame. But as she gulped down the last of her drink, she realised you were nowhere in sight. She frowned, was it over? Did she miss her chance? She should have acted sooner, now all she had was a bitter taste in her mouth and the need to wash it away with some more alcohol.

“I’m going to get a drink,” she said to Ashley, her friend, showing her the empty glass with a fake pout on her lips. 

“Get me something too,” the girl yelled to her friend over the loud music, to which Florence only nodded with a thumb up. 

She made her way to the bar, gently pushing people out of their way and smiling at some of them as she watched them dancing and enjoying themselves. She called a bartender and asked her for an ice-cold martini and a beer for Ashley. As the girl prepared her drink and five more at the same time, Florence felt an unknown presence next to her. The thought of you quickly crossed her mind, so she turned but her smile flattered as she didn’t meet your kind sweet eyes, but a pair of cold blue eyes. 

She pushed down the uneasy feeling growing in her stomach and put on her best fake smile. Sure, it wasn’t who she was expecting but it wasn’t the strangers fault. He didn’t deserve to be treated badly, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Hey,” said the man nodding to her. She cursed herself for getting his attention, he mistook her politeness for flirting.

“Hi,” she went along nevertheless, not wanting to come out as rude. 

And that word was all it took for the man in front of her to start talking nonstop. 

The bartender had already given her the drinks she had asked for and he still kept on talking. Florence had already drunk her martini and he was still talking. She ordered a second martini, the beer going hot beside her as he told her about his amazing job. She couldn’t take it anymore, but she didn’t want to cause a scene. 

You, who had come back from the restroom, had found yourself sitting next to said man. You had heard the same boring talk as Florence, but you didn’t realise it was her until you quickly looked at her. She seemed unease and bored, she was biting her bottom lip and nodding along to whatever he was saying. But her eyes weren’t as shiny as they were before, when she was dancing with her friend, having the time of her life, and smiling at you from time to time. 

“Hey, why don’t we go somewhere more private?” the man said, reaching out for Florence’s hand. She slightly backed up. 

“No, I think I’m good here,” she said as she gently shook her head. 

“Oh, come on,” he insisted. “Let’s have some fun.”

“Thank you, but I’m just fine exactly where I am,” she said harshly, with a tight smile on her lips. She was done being polite. 

“Don’t be a buzzkill. Come on, I promise you’ll have a lovely time,” Florence cringed at his words. 

“I think I should go,” you noticed the worry with a tint of anger in her tone, and you didn’t like that one bit. Especially when the guy just wouldn't take the hint. 

You gulped down the rest of your drink, hoping the alcohol now running through your veins would give you more courage, and hopefully it would help you not think things through or else you feared you would back down. 

You quietly stood up without him noticing, turned to him clearing your throat and spoke up through the loud music. “Oh, there you are, honey!” you plastered your best smile on your face. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” you hugged her, whispering in her ear to play along. 

“Hi, baby. I missed you” she quickly said as she wrapped her arms around you. 

Both of your heartbeats were beating a mile per hour, this was not how either of you would imagine to talk to the other. As Florence placed her head in the crook of your neck, your sweet fresh scent filled her nose, erupting butterflies in her stomach. 

“Baby?” the guy scoffed. “Excuse me. Who are you?” he raised his brows at you. 

“I’m Y/n, her girlfriend ,” you raised your brows back at him, playing the part. “Who the fuck are you?” you said with a fake smile on your lips as you wrapped your arm around Florence's waist. 

“What?” he scoffed again. “This is bullshit,” he shook his head as he walked away from the two of you. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes at him. “Men. Am I right?”

“Tell me about it,” Florence smiled at you. 

“Oh, sorry,” you said as you realised your arm was still looped around her. 

“No worries,” you had just dropped your arm and she was already missing the warmth of your skin. She cleared her throat, pushing away her thoughts. “Thank you for getting me out of that.”

“You’re very welcome,” you couldn't stop the blood rushing to your cheeks as your eyes were fixed on hers. “I, um, I actually wanted to talk to you earlier…”

“You did?” her eyes seemed to light up, but maybe it was just the flashy lights. 

“Yeah! But I… I just thought… I…” you were babbling, a sign of how nervous you were. 

“I wanted to talk to you too,” she quickly chimed in. 

You couldn’t hold back your smile no matter how hard you were trying. “I know you just got out of a messy situation,” she chuckled, and you could have sworn that you felt your heart flutter. “But, um, can I buy you a drink?” you shyly asked her. 

“I would love that,” she responded, mirroring your smile. 

Florence was so mesmerised by you that she hadn't realised that she had completely forgotten about Ashley’s beer. But, oh well, she was sure her friend would understand. After all, a pretty girl saving your ass from a creepy dude wasn’t an everyday thing, and she wasn’t just going to let you go that easily.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

[tklpilled]

iris

“i went to windrise to paint today,” albedo muses. he thinks back to earlier that day, trying to recall the details. “that big tree with a statue in front of it. it’s really quite beautiful, and you get an amazing view of mondstadt from there. i’m not sure how to explain it, but something about it feels almost spiritual.”

albedo has traveled across mondstadt, and other parts of teyvat as well, and he’s never found an area that feels quite like windrise. not only is the view unmatched, but he always feels as if someone is watching him—not to threaten him, but rather, to protect him.

“the bard was there—venti, I believe? he kept me company. his songs are incredible, and i noticed many more crystalflies than usual. i think they were drawn to his music.”

he glances over to his stand, where a painting of the area sits. while sitting under the tree would be relaxing, he wanted to capture it in the painting. so, instead, he sat facing mondstadt, and painted the tree on the side with its branches stretching across the canvas, almost blocking the sky entirely. the walls of mondstadt are in the distance, across the lake sparkling in the sun. If albedo had to judge it, he’d say that the painting is rather accurate; but of course, it can never compare to the real thing.

“i do wish you had been there, though,” he says, continuing on with his one-sided conversation. “i could use some practice painting people, but then again, i don't think i could do you justice. not even a kamera captures your beauty.”

he looks down at his lap, unable to hide his fond tone. “what do you think?”

a wail is the only response he gets.

albedo sighs, drumming his fingers impatiently. “it’s rude to ignore someone when they’re talking to you, you know.”

scaramouche lets out another squeal, his head thrown back in helpless laughter. “i c-cahahan’t!”

albedo swirls his fingertip around the center of scaramouche’s stomach, just circling the rim of his navel. it’s sending the poor puppet into hysterics—but as long as he still has the energy to kick his legs so frantically, albedo is sure he can last a little longer.

“but you’re talking to me now, aren’t you?” albedo asks, tilting his head. “i’m just trying to tell you how pretty you are, and you won’t even listen. i’m hurt.”

scaramouche bats weakly at albedo’s hand, though he’s clearly not trying hard. “shuhuhut uhup!” he squeaks, arching his back, and although his face is already red with laughter, albedo swears it gets worse.

he wishes he had his art materials with him. he’d love to paint scaramouche’s laughing face, capturing it in time for him to look at whenever. he can already imagine the colours he’d use, the pink hues contrasting so sharply with the cool, earthy background, the freckles scattered across his face, the way his eyes squint shut. the one problem is that sounds can’t be transferred to visuals—if he could, albedo would gladly paint scaramouche’s laughter onto a canvas forever. or maybe he could use scaramouche’s body itself as a surface; it’s a work of art on its own, after all. albedo often imagines himself drawing on it, creating constellations with his scars.

he’s abruptly yanked from his thoughts by a sudden loud whine. he glances down, realising the problem. his finger has dipped into scaramouche’s navel, a spot he hadn’t even known was so sensitive.

he chuckles. “i always discover new spots every time. i’m convinced you’re ticklish everywhere.”

scaramouche snorts, grabbing albedo’s wrist and holding on tightly. “sh-shuhut the fuhuhuck uhup! i swehehear, i’ll…!” whatever else he was going to say is lost to frantic giggling.

ah, well. albedo knows it wouldn’t have been a genuine threat anyway.

[emthephantom]

Hello! Do you take requests? If not, that's perfectly alright! I just would love to read more about Klaus x Reader (Bonus point for GN!Reader.) Perhaps something about him while he's the leader of the Destiny's Children!

Thank you in advance!

Hello! Thank you for your request! I hope I managed to do it justice :)

☆Destiny's Gift-Klaus Hargreeves☆

Klaus x GN!Reader You join Klaus's cult and he can't keep away from you Warnings: None Words: 505 A/N: My first request!!!! I was so nervous but I really hope I managed to satisfy you :))

You always saw the colourful van with his loyal followers, the flyers with his face, promising a new way of life.

You began looking forward to seeing the van, wishing you were there. What was the Prophet like? Was he nice? Was he mean? Was he as handsome in real life? Enough was enough, it was time for a new life.

Gathering courage, you found the group's residence.

'You can do this.' you breathed out.

Knocking on the door, you braced yourself for rejection but piercing green eyes and a sly smile met your gaze.

'Why hello there'

'I want to join your movement' you interrupted, 'I've studied your teachings and I'm ready to help.'

The man just stared at you, his smile widening.

'Well, I am very flattered…'

'Y/N' you responded.

'Lovely name for a lovely member, come in.'

You shuffled into the mansion, a smile gracing your face.

'Thank you Prophet, I can't tell you-'

'Klaus, call me Klaus.' he said. 'Let's introduce you to the rest hmm?'

His hands crept onto your shoulders, guiding you through the halls until he stopped at a door. His touch sent shivers down your spine- Were you already falling for him?

Pushing it open, you saw a sea of blue outfits. 'He has a lot of followers' you thought.

'Destiny's children, I have someone new to introduce,' he waved you over and you stood next to him,' This is Y/N, they will be my assistant, treat them as you treat me, my dears.'

Your eyes met again, a sincere smile on his lips. He took all of your features in, you were so… perfect.

'I'm your assistant now?' you teased.

'You're too good only to be a member, I want you near me at all times.' he spoke.

------------------------------Small time skip-------------------------------

A couple of weeks after the initial meeting, everyone took to you nicely, and being Klaus' assistant was amazing. You finally found a place where you belong! Your thoughts were broken when Klaus stood before you, a cheeky grin on his face.

'Y/N come I have something for you to do.' he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you to his room. Ignoring the heat in your face you questioned Klaus,

'What are we doing?'

Ushering you into the room Klaus turned to you, his dominant leader façade falling,

'I wanted to spend time with you; alone. You've changed me in these few weeks and I don't want to hide how I feel anymore.'

You couldn't stop the smile from forming, your eyes welling with tears of joy. You leaped into him, engulfing Klaus in a hug.

'I feel the same way, ever since you opened the door for me.'

It felt good expressing your feelings to him. No more hiding your flushed face when his hand brushed yours. No more pretending not to notice the long glances. No more hiding.

A soft kiss was placed on your forehead, a confirmation from Klaus that he understood.

'Thank you for finding me Y/N'

'I'd find you in every timeline.'

[morgalahan]

Calliope, Stray Gods. Sort of a screenshot study since I heavily reference one from the demo. She was so nice and kinda sad, and written and performed so well. I already want to solve the mystery and see if you can get some justice for her.

I love her design and colour palette as well. I'm still trying a more textured and styalized look, although this one wasn't as quick. I think I'm just so used to painting Solas I don't need to think about it, but for Calliope I tried my best to translate the game's style into my semi realism.