#it’s my birthday! Gn!

[itemprograms]

More gurlies gijnkafied 👍 pie was probably the hardest one next to barf bag lel

[emmyrosee]

“Pssst…”

“Choke.”

“Wanna makeout?”

Instantly, as if on a cue, Hajime’s face blisters into a flush, eyes widening and brows angry as he whips his head to face you.

You’re smiling, and he hates it, and you’re wearing his shirt that completely drowns your frame, hands and knees on the mattress just inches away, and he’s convinced he could live an extra 15 years if you hadn’t stumbled into his life.

But you did stumble into his life. Yay him.

His pencil taps rapidly against his desk, his studying having been completely hijacked by your straightforward flirts. Inviting you to do homework with him never really ended well, and how he hasn’t learned this lesson yet, is a mystery to you both.

“I’m busy.”

You huff and shift to sit on the bed as the gods intended, “you can take three minutes to makeout with me.”

“When was the last time we made out less than ten minutes?” He asks, and he wishes he hadn’t by the way your cocky grin splays over your face.

“Cant help that you’re into me,” you croon. He groans as he tosses his hand up to his face, scrubbing gently to revitalize himself. He’s quickly snapped out of it when he feels your feet wrap around the base of his desk chair and pull him closer to the bed.

This, has him chuckling from disbelief, moving his hands from his face and letting his eyes flick towards your feet. “Be so for real right now,” he says, snickering.

You bite your tongue between your teeth, but before you can do anything else, you scream as he makes a dash at you, barely letting you kick in defense before he pins you down to the bed, his broad chest doing most of the caging while his fingers spider up your sides and his lips sponge kisses on your neck and ears.

“You’re so annoying,” he growls, the vibrations of the rasp tickling your neck. His fingers still and instantly, your arms shift to toss around his neck, looking up at him longingly.

You lift a hand up to card his hair away from his face, “hi.”

“Hey baby.”

With that, he leans down to kiss you, knee planting on the bed to keep him stable and allow him to deepen the kiss. You mewl happily, letting your fingers push his head impossibly closer to you.

You taste sweet, like the bowl of fruit you’ve been stealing from him for the past hour, and you’re so warm from being swaddled in his blankets that he feels calm just by being close to you.

Then again, you always have that affect on him.

With a slight bite of your lips, he slowly starts to pull back, planting little pecks to soothe the bites. You giggle happily and reach up eagerly for each one.

“Haji?”

“What?”

Biting your lip cheekily, he hardens his gaze and reinforces his grip slightly, ready to restart a tickle attack if needed.

“Got you to makeout with me.”

You smirk and lick his nose with the tip of your tongue, making him reel back slightly with a scrunch of his face. He looks at you blankly, while you laugh and play with the locks of hair at the nape of his neck.

“How do you always manage to get your damn way?” He mumbles, leaning down to press another kiss on your lips. Under him, you giggle and chase his lips, clearly eager that now you’ve gotten him to kiss you once, he’s keen to give you more.

Like he always does.

Like he always will.

“Cant help that you’re into me.”

“I really am. Asshole.”

“I love you, too.”

[ma1dita]

its 2am and im delirious im so sorry but

jealous! (and maybe clingy!)luke x apollo!reader when he sees the same couple of campers constantly coming to you for medical attention over small scratches or feigned illnesses just to get your attention..and reader is just so kind to everyone they’d never refuse to treat anybody no matter how minor the injury, but it drives luke a little mad teehee 🤭

🐥 also happy (late) birthday jo!!

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x gn!apollo!reader

a/n: i will never get tired of bf!luke.

wc: 947

“Be with you in a second, sweet boy!”

Your hands were fiddling with gauze as you brush past Luke sitting on the only empty bed left in the infirmary. And you weren’t even talking to him! Your words were directed to his half-sibling and with all the others waiting for you, it was obvious that you weren’t leaving your shift anytime soon despite his plans for your date night.

“Doc, what about me? I feel sick too,” he mutters into your neck, big hands pulling at your waist and playing with the smock tied around your frame.

“What’s the matter, my love?” You coo, brushing back his mop of hair and looking into his honey sweet eyes. He grins and it’s a bit boyish and quite sinister, all Luke with a definite trick up his sleeve. 

“My heart hurts…. because I pulled a few strings to have dinner with you at the lake and we’re not there right now,” he sighs, hot breath tickling your earlobe, “And I need you to fix me up too.” Cheeky asshole.

You bite your lip and slowly pull yourself away from his embrace, not without kissing the corner of his mouth before the fluttery feeling is weighed down by the reminder of your responsibilities at the sound of a scream from across the infirmary.

The room was filled with campers of all ages vying for your attention and waiting for your gentle hands to tend to everything from a scraped knee to a rising fever (though if you ask Luke, he’s so sure he saw Bradley from cabin 9 standing over the forge in the armory trying to break a sweat earlier).

It was sickening. Someone ought to tell these campers to get in line. Connor Stoll almost skips–excuse me, limps, (now that you’re watching him again) towards Luke with a shit-eating grin at his moody disposition at the fact that he has to fight for your attention.

“Beat it, loser.”

“Baby! Don’t be mean or I’ll ask you to leave. Get up, Connie needs to get his knee wrapped,” you say with a furrow in your brow. Your eyes dart around the room wondering where the rest of your siblings have gone to help you heal these campers, but unlike you, they’ve already clocked out for the day. It’s a wonder how many kids at Camp Half-Blood get brutalized, maimed, or both on the daily, but it’s all in a day’s work of being a child of Apollo.

“Yeah, move it bighead!”

Luke grumbles, rising to his feet and shoving Connor a bit harder than what’s brotherly, so much so that the preteen falls face first into the cot. (Luke thought it was dumb that the kid was acting like a baby since the idiot scraped his knee jumping off the roof of the dining pavilion because Travis and Chris dared him to.)

“OWWW!” he groans, and before you can react, Bradley’s asking for another cold towel and little Lila from cabin 4 starts crying about her sun poisoning from being out in the strawberry field—your shaking hands and wide eyes let Luke know you’re at your limit so he ushers you behind a curtain for examinations.

“Honestly, you’re overworked babe. Take a break,” he says sternly, but softens as you look up at him with a pout and a whole lot of love. He smooths your hair down and hands you a glass of water.

“Just need to see the rest of the patients for the day and send them on their way. I don’t want anyone to be hurt,” you mumble through sips, leaning against the wall and shutting your eyes. To Luke, it sounded like the quicker you get through this the more time he spends with you— and so he moves so quickly that you barely process what he’s doing until you hear various complaints from campers (who are annoyed that their new nurse isn’t as pretty as you and dons a fierce glare and curls that hang over his forehead like a dark cloud).

Nurse Luke models after what he’s seen you do here countless times, but in a way that’s very much his own. He gives out ambrosia and nectar, cleans up booboos where needed, tells Bradley to fuck off and take a cold shower, tapes Connor’s mouth shut, and awkwardly jokes to a kid from cabin 6 that he probably shouldn’t be the one doing stitches or he’ll get a scar that looks like the one running down his cheek. They agree to wait until later, holding bloody gauze to their chin.

By the time you’ve calmed yourself down, you pull back the curtain to see an eerily quiet infirmary (and you’re not sure if they’ve been threatened into silence) but everyone is bandaged, fed and watered—to the best of Luke’s ability. It brings up a sunny smile on your face that reminds him of the first rays of morning light which is a view he never gets tired of, and you finally throw in the towel when Leo and little Will come in for the evening shift. 

A resounding sigh is heard from the infirmary’s patients as you leave with your boyfriend, to which you don’t think much of as you look at Luke like he’s the answer to all of your problems. He kisses you in the doorway like its a cure, whispering sweet nothings and promises of a nice dinner at the lake even if it’s pitch black outside now.

It also serves to those damn kids as a reminder that he’s the one who gets to fuss over you and though he doesn’t like starting fights, boy, does he love ending them, in his own little way.

[snaillock]

all patched up

becoming infatuated with the infirmary nurse after getting socked in the face by your own teammate. just a regular ol' day in blue lock. wc: 0.8k

rin stepped into the infirmary with blood-stained tissues held up to his aching nose. he heard the sound of anri closing the door behind him as he looked up to see you sitting on a desk, writing something down.

both of you guys were very surprised to see each other, though for very different reasons. rin’s mind flooded with different questions. who is this? why is there someone about his age in the infirmary? is this the person who’s supposed to fix his nose? there’s no way.

you immediately stood up from your chair and walked up to him, staring at his nose.

“oh god, what happened to you?”

“i don’t wanna talk about it,” he grumbled. getting kneed in the nose by shidou was already humiliating enough. how was he supposed to share it with his supposed doctor who looked young enough to be his classmate.

“that’s perfectly okay. we don’t have to discuss it right now. just sit down over there.”

he sat down on the paper-covered infirmary bed you gestured to and eyed you suspiciously as you took some gloves out and put them on.

“you seem way too young to be doing this,” he said almost accusatorially.

“oh me? i’m just a part of a program my school is doing for colleges. i joined since i plan to study sports medicine,” you said as you moved your chair over and sat in front of him to feel the bridge of his nose, making rin flinch from the unexpected touch and slight pain.

“they really hired a teenager for this?” rin questioned, shifting his eyes away from your focused look on his nose. he tried to keep his focus off the unfamiliar feeling of a hand on his face as he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him from letting another person around his age do this. still, he complied, not wanting to inconvenience you or him

“hey! i’m very experienced in this, alright? besides, the person supervising me isn’t here right now,” you then leaned in closer to whisper, “and between you and me, this whole establishment here seems mad shady. however, it was one of the few places that were willing to pay me for this so i won’t be complaining.” you shrugged as you finished checking his nose, mentally noting his sudden quietness.

“ok so luckily, it’s only a minor fracture -i’m assuming from blunt trauma- so you’ll need to wear a splint for about a week, then you should be good to go.”

he simply nodded, staying silent as you rolled your chair to the desk to get some things out of the drawers. you then scooted back in front of him.

“ok rin, can you tilt your head back for me?”

he did as you said, feeling his palms getting clammy for reasons unknown to him. he instinctively squeezed his eyes shut in, anticipating any pain, when you pinched his nose's bridge to ensure it was aligned beforehand. the feeling of your fingers gently but firmly moving his chin back into place whenever he slightly moved was fleeting yet brought him an unfamiliar and uneasy sensation to his stomach.

halfway through, he opened his eyes to see your focused face working. he felt way too awkward to close them again so he was stuck staring right at you, unintentionally gazing at all your features. his overwhelming nervousness practically overtook the pain of the splint being applied and inserted into his nose.

“alright, there! you’re all done now and you’re free to leave,” you declared. rin unconsciously let out a huge sigh of relief before you stopped him from getting up.

“wait hold on.” you took off your gloves and pressed the back of your hand on his forehead, feeling an unusual amount of heat. “are you feeling feverish in any way?”

“no, i’m not,” he answered a lot more shakily and less audible than he wished. god, he really wanted to crawl into a hole right now.

“hmm okay,” you hummed to yourself while observing the flush on his face that he seemingly wasn’t aware of. you then took another glance at him and all the suspicion and concern instantly left your eyes, replaced with something else. a slight smile creeping on your lips. “oh i see… well rin, you can go back now.”

the sudden switch in your tone surprised him but he nodded and got up quickly to head to the door, wanting to leave before his mind could process all these feelings.

when he was already out in the hallway, you rushed to the door and called out for him. “wait, one last thing rin!” your voice made him immediately stop in his tracks to turn and look at you.

“next time, try to avoid picking fights with your own teammates,” you said with a knowing grin, watching the flush on his face deepen, “yeah, i saw the footage. good luck out there and stay safe, number 1.”

you went back inside the infirmary, shutting the door behind you, leaving him out and alone in the hallway. rin sighed and turned around, wondering how he was supposed to return with his face looking like this.

taglist(sign up): @userwithlotsoftime @lucas2060 @kiiyoooo

happy birthdayyy to my beloved edgy bastard!!!! to celebrate, i decided to dig up this lil old prompt i randomly came up with about a month ago or so and finally use it.

[princesskkfish]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @tapakah0

I know u enjoy nature and so I thought this would be a nice gift :] hope you have a absolutely fantastic day and hope you know how incredible of a person and artist you are!

and @/somerandomdudelmao is also in this :P

alternates under the cut

My brain is very tired so ima go to bed but hope you have a wonderful day Tap!

[thesimpsbasement]

"So today's your birthday? Good for you" He says nonchalantly. Meanwhile, you find yourself dumbfounded.

"Please don't tell me that's it" You say as you stare at him almost with pleading eyes.

"My the herbivore sure is greedy. Do you want me to sing you a song or what?" He asks sarcastically, but he immediately regrets his words when he looks at your face...puppy eyes. "Oi, what's that look for?" He grumbles,not pleased with what might come out of your mouth. "Please sing me happy birthday." You plea.Do you get a kick out of his suffering or what? "I'm not singing you happy bi-" before he could finish his sentence, you glare at him. "Leona Kingscholar, you will sing me happy birthday, and that's final." You order. Aherbivore ordering around a prince? Seriously, who do you think you are, but all he does is sigh as he grumbles something incoherent.

"...Happy birthday to youuuu" He begins with the most monotone voice.

"Happy birthday to yoouu"

"Happy birthday dear ____"

"Happy birthday to youuuu"

He ends his little song,ears flatten as he feels embarrassment from head to toe.

"See, wasn't so hard now, was it? Thank you,you're the best!" You say as you peck his lips.

Before you could fully pull away ,Leona cups your cheeks,keeping you in place.

"Seems like our herbivore is a bit forgetful,I haven't given you your present yet" He says,sly smirk on his face.

"Wait so that song wasn't a gift?" You ask,trying to hold back laughter as Leona glares at you.

"You offend me,maybe I shouldn't give you that present" He scoffs

"You're mean" you pout making him chuckle.

"I'm kidding of course, come here" He says before pulling you in a kiss, one of his hands moving from your cheek to the back of your head to pull you in deeper in the kiss. Eventually you pull away,leaving you breathless.

Leona smirks as you catch your breath.

"Happy Birthday ____" He says before quickly pulling you in another kiss.

[treasureofmammon]

September together

Characters: Mammon x gn!reader

Warnings: Gender neutral reader. Mention of pervy thoughts, but no description or details given. Just fluff. Kinda long, sorry!

Summary: September is Mammon's month, but so it's yours. For his birthday, you ask what does he want, and it seems like you two might be on the same page.

[Note 1: The following characters belong to the mobile game "Obey me: shall we date" and are owned by Solmare Corporation. This is a mere work of fan-fiction.

Note 2: GN!Reader - This is one of my first times sharing what I write, so please be kind. English is not my first language, so there might be orthographic and syntax errors. Also, I use italics for thoughts and/or memories. I came up with the idea because my birthday is on September too. I thought it was kind of fun to share the birthday month with my 2D boo].

✨️💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛✨️

It's late, although it's hard to tell the exact time when looking out the windows: the infinite, eternal darkness of the Devildom is hard to decipher.

Beel and Belphie blow out the candles on their huge cake. One side purple, with beautiful silver star decorations; and the other, red, with small golden suns around it. Two huge candles above, one in the shape of a waning moon and another in the shape of a radiant sun. And the delicious aroma of vanilla, strawberries and chocolate that emanates and fills the dining room.

This time you had given your soul to this huge edible piece. The twins smile blushing: this large cake handmade by you was the best gift they had received in many years.

Beel and Belphie look at each other tenderly, Beel puts his hand on his brother's shoulder and, with a puppy smile, says: "Happy birthday Belphie". Belphie smiles, his facial expression is calm and sleepy, and yet it is full of affection towards his brother: "Happy birthday Beel."

Asmo sighs with a smile, and you know what he's thinking. He confided it to you not long ago: Asmo has always longed for that complicity that the twins share. You look at him for a moment and feel a slight sadness, hidden behind a centuries-old loneliness and trapped between jealousy and happiness for his younger brothers. Your hands leave your pockets and you try to approach him with the intention of pampering him a little, only to be intercepted by Belphie.

Belphie takes your hands in his, looking at them carefully. There are red, purple and blue spots on them. It's from the dye of the cake gloss that you couldn't wash off completely.

- "...your hands..." -says Belphie.

Mammon hides his hands behind his back, pulling at the long sleeve of his jacket, hoping it will cover the stains on his own hands. Mammon isn't exactly the most skilled cook out there, and yet he helped you all afternoon making this enormous cake for his youngest brothers.

Meanwhile, Belphie runs his index finger over the stains on your hands, his touch is gentle and careful, and though it looks innocent, it harbors a deep carnal desire. Though you can't decipher it. Sometimes you're so airheaded about this kind of thing. But Lucifer and Asmodeus do notice, they both realize it and their faces contort, looking at the hidden intentions of their brother, who is yet another rival. A dangerous and stealthy one.

-"You sure worked very hard for us, Y/N."

You smile, answering: -"It wasn't just me, you know? Mamm-"

Suddenly, a hand covers your mouth. Although the movement was quick and unexpected, the contact is gentle. Mammon looks down and meets your gaze, his hand still in your mouth, the other holding your wrist. His touch is so sweet and so serene for a moment full of adrenaline. As if you were a precious crystal that could break at any light touch. His brothers are surprised by his strange outburst.

Except Leviathan.

Levi sighs and slowly looks away, tired of the furtive actions that suddenly arise, out of nowhere, between you and Mammon. They are so hateful: the stolen glances, the way your eyes share long talks in a matter of seconds, the secrets you two tell each other quickly through laughter, the way you two gravitate around each other wherever you are. And then, back home, how your steps synchronize and your gazes meet from time to time between smiles that say so much even though the words don't come out. That tension, which is like now's.

As Mammon looks at you deeply and carefully, you realize that this is another one of those rare times when he does something for his brothers and doesn't want the credit. You don't move and just continue to stare at him. And although there are no words or body movements, Mammon understands that you understand.

Slowly and carefully, he removes his hands from you.

"What was that, Mammon?"- says Satan.

Maybe it's because of how quickly things happened, but it's not until that moment that Belphie sees the stains on Mammon's hands. As Belphie watches, Mammon puts his fists in the pockets of his jacket. He then looks at Satan and responds with a huff, -"Nothing".

"You could have hurt them..." - Satan responds. Is not true. As they argue about how Mammon stopped you, you think that his surprise attacks make your heart beat faster until it threatens to burst out of your chest. And, as their argument continues, you feel a sweet burning in your stomach, and your heart beats faster and faster. Now you can't stop thinking about his hands and how he grabbed your wrist fiercely and placed the other gently on your face. The friction between the palm of his hand and your lips, just a moment ago, the hand of the person you love was in your lips. Soft hands that hold you and touch you gently. You run your index finger over your mouth and think, "Would a kiss from him be this soft?"

Your thoughts are interrupted by Belphie: -“Y/N, when's your birthday?” The discussion stops and everyone looks at you expectantly: -"In September, the day is the..."

Mammon's eyes light up, and his facial expression changes. He is no longer angry with Satan or arguing with his brothers. Suddenly, he feels like he shares something special with you, as if what you already share wasn't enough and that it doesn't make Levi and the others jealous.

"September? It seems like that month we will celebrate twice as much" - Lucifer smiles and looks at you fondly. You've become another person to care for, part of his big family, home.

You smile sweetly, and if you weren't so clueless, you would have noticed that the seven brothers feel as if the air lightens and many flowers appear around you every time you tilt your face, close your eyes and your lips curl up. They love you so much, and you love them too. And yet, their love is not like yours: innocent and serene.

Except for Mammon.

Mammon is the person you love the most and who you seek the most. You share your daily life with him and pray that he doesn't notice your feelings because what would happen if he finds out and then your friendship can't continue? And yet, you can't hide how much you adore him.

Mammon is usually a living contradiction: how can someone be so wonderful and so careless at the same time? How can someone be so kind and so selfish at the same time? How can someone be so generous and so greedy at the same time? Mammon is a demon, and yet he behaves like an angel towards you.

Your gaze falls on each of the seven faces in front of you, but it rests long on that of Mammon. Your eyes meet his. You feel your heart beating fast and yet you can't stop looking at him with so much affection.

His cheeks redden, the heat of the blood pumping to his face and his head spinning. He also thinks about your lips, the way the palm of his hand touched your mouth, so delicate and so tender, and he thinks: "Would a kiss from them be that soft?"

✨️💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛✨️

The leaves fall to the ground, you can barely notice their orange color. The trees lose their color and look sad, forgotten.

You think of the branches swaying in the wind. It is difficult to discern the shapes well, after all, it is always night here. The coming autumn means that your birthday is near and so is Mammon's.

You look away from the window to your right because you feel a familiar weight on your left shoulder. White hair and golden skin, the soft snore that comes from his mouth. You let out a slight smile.

"I love you" -you think- "I love you so much..."

"Mammon, Avatar of Greed, wake up or leave the classroom!" the teacher shouts, and Mammon wakes up groggily.

On the way home from RAD, you walk alongside Mammon like every day. It's the same old routine, but you love it. You love hearing his footsteps so close to you, his slim and defined body, much more taller than you, exuding so much warmth. It is a feeling of care, as if his body is emitting protection.

You swear that every day you walk closer to each other and you wish you could hold his hand until you reach HoL.

"I love you so much, Mammon. Do you love me?"

Hearing Mammon laugh thanks to your comments and jokes is one of the best things; then, a little push, and the rubbing of your uniform coat against his makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. Seeing his blue eyes full of light, you could swear that just that is what true joy is. Laugh with him and laugh at him; all the moments shared feed your heart.

It's already September... - he says.

Yes. It will be your birthday soon- you answer.

And yours- he grins.

What do you want for your birthday, Mammon? -

Mammon looks at you perplexed. You anticipated to his question. "I want you". Of course, this is just a thought of his, but now Mammon blushes. He can't stop thinking about you that way. If his brothers knew his deepest thoughts, they would wrap you in wrapping paper with a bow on your head and hand you to Mammon. Or maybe not, maybe everyone would hide you from him and his desires. Because Mammon's thoughts for you are carnal and lascivious, and yet they are full of love. They are not simply born from desire, rather, desire is born from his feelings for you: some pure, some dirty, some innocent, some perverted.

And as you look at his face and how his gaze evades you, you think about what you want for your birthday. And you cant help to think: "I want you". Your face turns red too.

The truth is that you can't live like this anymore. When did being with him, in this swing of emotions and crossed messages, become painful? You run and leave him behind. You want to cry, but try to hold it until you get into your room, and that must be fast.

Hey! Wait!- Mammon shouts.

You can't wait, what's wrong with you?, you left him behind. Suddenly, you feel something holding you back. Or rather, someone. Mammon stops you, holding you from your wrist -Why are you running?!

You can't escape Mammon. Did you forget that he is the fastest demon in the Devildom? Perhaps the fastest being in all the realms?

Hey... - his hoarse voice sounds more masculine than other times -What I want for my birthday..., I can't tell you. But the closest thing you can give me is to spend the day with me, okay? You can give me any present, but let's just...-

Your face turns to look at his. Red like a tomatoe. Something clicks in you. You remember what Levi once told you:

- I think there is no one who admires you more than Mammon does...

And you finally understand what he meant: Levi was not referring to Mammon's admiration to your efforts to be among the best students in the class, nor to how you have managed to adapt quickly from the human world to this one, nor to how you have managed to give yourself your place, and instead, you have made great friends, and definitely not to your bravery in front of Mammon or any of his brothers to avoid their fights or to defend him from Lucifer. Levi was referring to...

-Well, what do you want for your birthday? - Mammon tries to change the subject and thus hide his embarrassment.

-I... -Suddenly you become aware of the landscape around you. In the infinity of the night of the Devildom. Next to you, a lake that reflects the countless stars, the wind that blows gently, six pairs of footprints far in the distance, unable to hear you two. This is the moment. You feel it. The autumn air and the eve of your birthdays. Everything, all of this screams to you that it is the moment. After all, you've waited too long. Every day your heart darkens if you don't say it soon, if you don't say it now. From March to September, way too many months.

-I want a kiss from you, Mammon...-

You've never felt braver, it's like suddenly everything makes sense. Especially when you see his reaction. And how could you not confess like that when he looks so handsome; because the night light illuminates his face: his skin shines like grains of sand under the sea, his white hair has a pearlescent glow, and his blue eyes share the same color of the immensity of the ocean and, somehow, in this forever dim light is so noticeable. Mammon is like looking at a summer landscape on a beach in the human world. You know why you love him now, it reminds you of home: of the beaches that you visited as a child. His warmth and his affection it's like feeling the sunlight under the summer sun. Relaxed, free, happy.

Summer in Autumn.

Mammon lets go of your wrist, his facial expression displaying immeasurable surprise. Suddenly, the noise of the wind on the water reminds him of a conversation with Solomon that he had in this very same place not long ago:

-You don't know what to buy to Y/N for their birthday? Why don't you ask them what they want?

-You two are humans, right? Tell me what to give them. Aren't ya Solomon, whatever, the wise?

Solomon laughs.

-What's so funny?

-You. You are really funny, Mammon. Have you not noticed that their soul shines brighter when they are with you?

"I'm pathetic...", he thinks, "they were the one who had to confess first, and not me". You feel like you are being pushed forward. Your face falls onto his chest, and his arms wrap around you -I'm gonna steal ya on yar birthday, and I won't give ya a kiss, I'll give ya a thousand. No. Millions. And, and, and...-

You look up and meet his eyes, his bright red face, you notice his embarrassment and at the same time, his joy. Two such dissonant emotions can only coexist in moments like this.

-And will I have to wait so long for a kiss?-

Mammon glups and then, closed his eyes, taking courage, trying to keeping his bravado. But he realizes that at this moment, it is now impossible. -No, can I?- he asks, slightly shaking.

- Please, Mammon. You have no idea how long I've waited for you...- you say, your voice almost breaking.

A common thought appears in your heads as your lips met, a dim reminder of March 11th:

✨️ "No, their lips were softer than I imagined..." ✨️

📌 Masterlist

[doodles-in-sand]

doodle dump 👍 its also my birthda

+ sona redesign for the 400th time lol (under cut)

yes i stole shidous throw down fit. what about it. its actaully accurate to what i wear outside usually ill post a pic tmr if i remember to

[bun-lapin]

TWST Voice Line Scene #7

🦐Yuu: (looking through a spell book with Grim) Do you see any that you think you can do?

🐱Grim: (flips a page) Hmmm… "Speedy Mushroom Growth"? Why would anyone want a spell like-

🐬Jade: (pops out of a nearby bush) Good afternoon, Yuu-san and Grim-san.

🐱Grim: MYAAH~!?

🦐Yuu: Jade! What were you doing in that bush??

🐬Jade: I was studying the formation of mushroom primordia when I overhead you discussing a very interesting sounding spell.

🐬Jade: (looks over Yuu's shoulder and reads the spell) Ah yes! A spell utilizing bursts of lightning to stimulate mushroom growth!

🐬Jade: (takes out his pen) The magic they have here on land is fascinating. I'd like to try my hand at it.

🦐Yuu: Uhh… Did you just say "lightning"?

🐬Jade: (smiling while sparks of electricity starts to surround him) I wonder if I can grow this mushroom to the size of a house…

🦐Yuu: (picks up Grim and starts sprinting)

TWST Voice Line Scenes Masterlist

[emmyrosee]

happy birthday to my Kiyoomi man (and my momma LMAOO-)

—-

When the side of the bed next to him is cold, Kiyoomi is immediately suspicious.

You’re never up and out long enough for your side of the bed to become cold, you hate the feeling of having to rewarm it under your body (though you assure him you don’t mind too much, as you warm up in his arms).

Regardless, he wakes up with a cocked brow and a small, sleepy scowl.

He makes his way out of the room, adorned only in his boxers, knuckling his eyes and smacking his lips as he searches for you.

He checks the bathroom, only to find the door wide open and dark. Then, he checks the kitchen, seeing it in a similar state, he feels a small sense of panic creep through his body.

Only to disappear when he enters the living room and finds you, sleeping. There’s countless black and gold balloons surrounding you, your body curled in on itself for warmth and a cup of cold tea resting next to you. He smiles and looks at the clock. 4 am. You must’ve been out here for hours, blowing up balloons by mouth alone.

“Hey,” he whispers, creeping towards you. He gently lays a hand on your shoulder and shakes you awake, “whatcha doin?”

“Balloons,” you barely manage, voice drunk with sleep and heavy with exhaustion. Your throat sounds raw, probably from so much energy going into the balloon blowing. He chuckles and looks around the room for more details.

There’s a small sign with “happy birthday” in black and gold still wrapped in plastic, black party hats and plates on the side table- you probably were planning on having the boys over for breakfast this morning.

“C’mon, baby,” he says softly, poking you with his toe. “Let’s go back to bed. You need it.”

“C’me.”

“Huh?”

“Carry me,” you whine.

He rolls his eyes with a smile before bending down and scooping you up in his arms, adjusting you comfortably before making his way back to the bedroom with you cradled in his arms.

“D’t tell ‘omi,” you slur, and he snickers softly.

“Won’t say a word.”

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Devilish

A scare during the witching hour turns into something more pleasant than you thought it would.

Character; Trey Clover

Content; Gender-neutral reader, some fear but ends in fluff

Content Warning; Fear/anxiety, swearing

Word Count; 1.6 K

Author's Note; This is for @jade-s-nymph's TWSTober collab! I had a lot of fun writing this, plus this is my first fic/serious work featuring Trey ^v^ Please make sure you support the other writers and artists in this collab as well; and remember to reblog works that you enjoyed!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

You woke up, a bit in a daze since you were just deep asleep, but the groggy daze of ‘Why am I awake… nevermind, I’m going back to bed’ quickly left your mind as a strong, acrid, smell filled the air; the smell of something burning. That grogginess quickly morphed into a slowly building and intensifying anxiety, but none of the smoke alarms were going off… you still got up though and turned on all the lights; you wouldn’t be able to rest easy until you found the source of the smell.

Room by room, you turned on the lights, and thankfully you didn’t find anything ablaze. Thinking about it, you didn’t even have anything on that could theoretically start a fire… better safe than sorry.

I mean, like, who wouldn’t wake up and not be freaked out? My brain is practically running around in circles and screaming FIRE! FIRE! FIRE! You thought to yourself, rubbing your eyes. You also knew full well that you wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep after this, the anxious part of your brain making sure that you stayed awake until you either found the source of the smell, or it went away.

You ended your quest of trying to find the smell in the kitchen, but there was no sign of smoke or the ‘fire’ that your brain imagined engulfing all of your earthly possessions. Yet, you didn’t feel relieved, instead, you hunched over your counter and started scrolling through your phone, looking for answers.

‘what smells like burning rubber’ 

You got everything from phantom smells caused by hallucinations, to electrical fires, to skunk. You let out a sigh and massaged your temples. Yeah, I should have seen that coming. Go looking for answers and instead, I have more questions than I began with. 

“Lovely,” you sighed, straightening yourself back up and looking up at the ceiling, “just lovely.”

It was honestly no use trying to go back to sleep now, since you were fully awake. Glancing at the clock, you groaned again; it wasn’t even four in the morning; what kind of sick joke was that? 

You gave your clock the stink eye but started your journey back to your bed, maybe you could start reading that book you’ve been meaning to get into… or you could just scroll mindlessly through social media while nice and comfy under your blankets. But right as you reached the threshold of your room, three knocks sounded out.

You paused and listened. Knock, knock, knock. There they were again, but they weren’t coming from the front door, no. You were half tempted to pull the blinds back from the window, but if there was some creep knocking on your window in the dead of night, you would rather not come across them. So yet again, you went through your place, triple-checking that all the locks were secure. First a fire scare, and now this? Today wasn’t going great, was it?

All of the locks checked out though, everything was good.

Knock. Knock. KNOCK.

A third round of knocking, but this time it was louder, more insistent. And the burning smell was back, and you could taste it from how strong it was. It commanded all of your attention and wasn’t going to be ignored… it was consuming, hungry almost. 

You were back in the kitchen, and thankfully(?) there was no more knocking, it seemed like three sets of three and it was done, but the smell, the smell. It was oppressive, and you started coughing, but despite the all-consuming smell of fire and burning, there was no smoke anywhere to be found; with the smell this thick, you would have been able to feel it. 

You went ahead to turn on the light, but despite you flipping the switch up and down multiple times, the light stayed off. And the rest of the lights just shut off suddenly on your final flip of the light switch, plunging you into darkness, engulfing you in darkness and the smell of burning.

FUCK! You fumbled around for your phone, trying to get the flashlight on.

Knock, knock, knock. The knocking was back, and it was slower and louder than before.

Finally, your phone’s flashlight turned on, and from the darkness, a pair of glowing yellow eyes stared at you, unblinking and looking into you, as if trying to see your very being.

And you? You just stood there, frozen, barely even breathing, since hey THERE WERE GLOWING EYES IN YOUR HOUSE STARING AT YOU? HELLO?! WHAT?!

You tried to move, to even open your mouth so you could make some attempt to either scream in horror, or hiss obscenities at whatever was in your kitchen, but you were frozen. And as you stared back into the glowing eyes, they were getting closer, and changing from a startling, eerie glowing gold, to something more dull and warm; a warm hazel. Despite this change from unnatural to something more human, they still pried into your consciousness, as if looking for something.

Soon, the former-glowing-eyed thing that was lurking in the dark corners of your kitchen stepped into the weak light of your flashlight. By the time he — yes, he — had stepped into the weak cold light, his eyes had stopped glowing. But the smell, the acrid smell of something burning, was stronger than ever, and it was coming from him. Yet, he looked like a polite neighbour who would offer you some sugar if you ran out, but you knew that wasn’t what he was.

He cleared his throat, and fixed his glasses, still keeping eye contact with you which you couldn’t escape. “You summoned me?”

You blinked in surprise at the question. It was out of pocket, but this entire situation was entirely ludicrous when you really thought about it. But the green-haired man just blinked back at you, as if he was just as confused at the current situation as you were. It was almost comical in a sense.

Finally, whatever spell you were under, lifted. “No,” you said, still gauging what he was since human was only the form he was taking on. “No, I really didn’t.” 

He offered you a polite smile, which was unnerving as it was charming; and if you were in a completely different situation, it would have you feeling at ease. The hairs on the back of your neck stood at end though, and your brain screamed DANGER! DANGER! RUN AWAY!

“You did though,” he chuckled softly, scratching the back of his neck. “Don’t you remember? At the bakery?”

The bakery? … all you had gotten at the bakery was some sugar, flour, and some lemon squares. And you would have remembered him if you saw him at the bakery; since green hair wasn’t natural, yet it looked like it was for him.

You shook your head, “All I got was some supplies and lemon bars. I didn’t ‘summon’ you. And what do you mean by ‘summon’? Who are you? What are you? How did you even get in my house?”

He pursed his lips and looked at you pensively. “Must have been a mix-up then… you don’t seem like the type to summon…” He let out a deep sigh, and adjusted his glasses — apparently, both of you were not happy with your current situations. Also, you didn’t know if you should have been offended or not at that statement. “Can I see what you got?”

You nodded, bringing out the flour and sugar, which, judging by his lack of reaction other than saying, “That’s a good deal for that,” was not the reason why he just spawned in your house. But then you showed him the half-eaten container of lemon bars, with three still left over.

“Ah, looks like there was a mix-up,” he chuckled. He turned back to you, with your citrus confectionaries in hand. “These are demon bars, not lemon bars. Eating them summons, well, a demon.”

A demon… A DEMON?! You balked at him, looking from the traitorous sweets to his bashful smile. And no wonder they tasted devilishly sweet… You knew it was bad going shopping on an empty stomach, and now you were dealing with the consequences.

“No offence, but uhhhh, how do I… send you back?” You were going to say ‘get rid of you’ but you didn’t want to offend the guy; he seemed polite enough, but you also didn’t want to test your luck either. “And what do I call you? Since I don’t want to just call you ‘demon’?”

The demon brought his hand to his chin and looked at you. 

Man, his eyes are pretty when they aren’t glowing in the dark— WHAT AM I THINKING?! GET A GRIP OF YOURSELF! You dug your fingernails into your palm to stop your wandering, and sleep-deprived, thoughts from skipping merely down a rose-tinted road.

He looked at the ‘lemon’ bars (apparently it wasn’t just a fancy cursive L then) and looked back up to you. “Trey, you can call me Trey.” 

Like a serving tray? Or three in Spanish?

“As for sending me back? Well, you didn’t know they were actually contracts, so I think if we make three more of those bars you should be good.” He nodded at the end.

Your night had taken multiple turns; from you thinking your house was aflame, to being scared half to death by Trey in your kitchen, to now making demonic-infused lemon bars in your kitchen at four in the morning… at least you made it out with your soul intact with the whole experience only costing you some ingredients, which you could always get more of… and maybe you even made a friend in the process?

...

...

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog, @azulashengrottospiano, @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @lucid-stories, @savanaclaw1996, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

[ma1dita]

omggg hope you had a great birthday!! do u mind writing a remus x reader who realize there’s smth more than friends between them, thank youuu

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

remus lupin x reader

a/n: gn!reader truly idk how this escaped me. me writing for my long lost husband in the year of our lord 2024?? this was so fun it felt like reuniting with an ex anyways fluff incoming

wc: don't... look at me... 1.3k

“So?”

“So what, Prongs?” Remus huffs, flipping through a textbook. Merlin knows why he even tries to study in the common room with the boys when all they do is badger him about nonsense.

“So are you and your little friend, well…more than friends? You two are attached at the hip, so where’d the little one run off to?” James teases, whacking his best mate with a throw pillow, “Get tired of you moaning and groaning about prefect duties?”

Well, that’s…you’re definitely not nonsense.

Remus blinks, brushing his hair away from his face and glaring at James before elbowing him straight in the gut. Tosser he is, acting like he knows anything about you or relationships in general when he’s been pining after Lily for years now.

You two are just friends.

Sirius lets out a loud laugh from his place at Remus’ feet. He’s leaning against the arm of the sofa, looking up at the sandy-haired boy with a cock-eyed grin, “If they were more than friends, Moony’s moaning and groaning would be appreciated and reciprocated, don’t you think?”

Peter snickers from the loveseat across the table. It doesn’t help with Remus’ mood, so he buries his head deeper into the boring History of Magic text, grumbling, “Don’t be crass. Just friends, is all. Don’t look too hard into it or you’ll melt what’s left of your brains.”

The three instigators look at each other, before looking back at their best friend. Just friends, he says. Sure, Remus’s the nicest guy around—a prefect even; the one that people count on to be the most morally sound out of all of them, the guy that people borrow notes from, politely laughs at jokes and makes people feel included in conversations. Sure, friends—they can believe that! Everyone wants to be Moony’s friend. But it’s the way they’ve seen him treat you that stands out.

Remus usually lags behind them now, breaking apart their formation in the halls (and yes, Sirius likes to be at the front of the diamond), pushing Peter up so he can wait for you after class. Also, anyone that could distract him from taking notes in Arithmancy is surely a force to be reckoned with (and a threat to Peter’s grades). He’s even gone as far as sidling up next to you during Potions and breaking their age-old rotation of picking partners since their first year (which left James with a botched Aging Potion, and Lily laughing at him as he limped out of class with graying hair and a hunchback).

So things were different nowadays, but one thing is for sure: Remus Lupin’s favorite game is being in denial.

“Maybe your friend knows about your furry little problem, Moons. Surely you really don’t think you’re gonna get any studying done with us?” James chuckles, before pushing his glasses up to clearly see the blush blossoming on Remus’s cheeks. Though it might also be anger, he couldn’t really tell—they’ve never seen him like this, ever; so blatantly obvious with how he feels about you even though he’d never admit it. It was quite refreshing to remember that Remus is still a normal teenage boy.

“You’re right, Prongs,” he huffs.

“I am?”

“I don’t know why I even bothered to try and study with you lot if all of you are too focused on me instead of studying!” Remus is shoving his books into his knapsack as the boys continue to rib at him to get him to stay. This essay isn’t going to write itself.

“Just playing, Moons!”

“Yeah mate, if you need an actual study date we know that’s not us, just hang around!”

Remus sighs as he’s looking at his friends' shit-eating grins as they go around him showing each other the map and pointing at something.

“What now?”

There’s a knock at the portrait, and the Fat Lady’s shrill voice could be heard from where they were sitting. Peter jumps up, sticking his face over the enchanted parchment as he giggles a bit like a schoolgirl, “It’s for you. Your friend’s outside.” They all cheer and laugh at Remus shaking his head, slinging his knapsack over his shoulder walking quickly away from them.

When he sees you chatting with the Fat Lady, it’s almost as if he’s in a stupor, studying every inch of your face until your eyes finally meet his and you grin and wave at him.

Just friends, he reminds himself.

“Hey Rem! Was gonna ask if you wanted to go to the library together?”

Your voice is a treat in itself, he thinks—the lilt and manner of it so sweet and rich it almost reminds him of his favorite chocolate.

Good thing he has a sweet tooth.

Walking down the hallway together your hand bumps into his several times in passing, fingers ghosting against each other as if they were dancing, too close and then too far. Friends can hold hands right? Remus’s heart flutters as he thinks of the possibility like solving an Arithmancy problem. He supposes the boys and him don’t necessarily hold hands, but he imagines holding yours would be way nicer.

Is he sweating?

His palms are sweaty, forget it, and you’re just friends! You’re telling him about your day like you both haven’t seen each other in years, but he even sat by you at lunch earlier, much to the rest of the Marauders’ surprise. Though Remus supposes you could even make Divination sound interesting—maybe even make him look in the stupid tea leaves to see if you’re in his future, furry little problem and all. He realizes he’s been staring a second too long, bumping into you lightly as you stop in front of the library.

“Haha, you okay? You’re quiet today, Rem. Something on your mind?”

A lot about you, apparently, thanks to his meddling friends.

Remus scratches the nape of his neck as he grimaces, cheeks reddening again and instead of a response, he opens the door for you and puts his finger to his mouth as if to say “Shhhh….” before Madam Pince starts a fit at either of you. That, or him actually having to say how he feels.

How he feels… Well…shit.

You make a beeline for an open table near the corner, tugging at his wrist like it’s not making his heart beat out of his chest and Remus tries to compose himself, but then you look at him with your pretty fluttering eyelashes and he knows he’s utterly fucked. Pulling out your chair for you, you squeeze his arm in thanks and scooch your chair closer to his.

“Rem?”

“Hmm?” he responds, a strangled noise crawling up his throat as he coughs slightly, his arm landing on the back of your chair before he panics then realizes he’d look like an arse for pulling away.

Not that he wants to.

“How did you know?”

His heart genuinely stops. There’s no way you’ve caught on that quickly—especially not with him just realizing how he feels about you, his friend that he wants to be more and there is nothing casual about what he wants to d—

“How’d you know I was at the common room? You walked out just as I was about to walk in, I thought it was kinda funny,” you giggle, brushing your hair behind your ear and he takes a deep breath.

You’re just friends. But he definitely wants to be more.

“The boys told me it was you,” Remus says, chewing on his lip, “Apparently they had a feeling.”

And now, so does he.

What’s worse is that Remus hates admitting when they’re right (which is rare enough in itself, he’ll never hear the end of it from their inflated egos).

What’s worst of all is that for the first time in his Hogwarts career, Remus Lupin ends up submitting an essay late.

[roachesbf]

Guard Dog Atom Headcanons

Atom hates leaving you alone, I wouldn’t say he’s clingy he’s just always cautious about everything so he feels to need to know how you’re doing all the time. It is his job as your guard dog. Whenever you’re in meetings he’ll stand behind you because it’s professional but once the two of you are both alone and you give the command that it’s okay, he’ll lay his head on your lap while you do paperwork.

I’d like to say his mask also works well as a muzzle, when someone is getting to much in meetings the sounds of him growling can be heard and his ears get all tense, all you have to do is snap to get him to call down but his body language gets more tense, as if he’s preparing to get their ass if they step out of line one more time and under your command.In general he’s very dedicated guy, give him treats by the end of a job well done

[buglaur]

pics i took in the city today

[scarasun]

another year wiser - and happier.

pairing ; scaramouche x gn!reader

wc ; 5.6k

summary ; when you find out that scaramouche has been keeping his birthday a secret from you, you take it upon yourself to make his day as amazing as possible.

cw ; scaramouche is called scaramouche throughout the fic because idk what else to call him, reader can't cook, slight angst at the end but we get a happy ending (wooo), your ex shows up and he's a creep, you're bad at painting, light cursing

a/n ; andd here it is!!!! i've pieced together this fic in the past two days, so im truly sorry if there are any mistakes throughout, or if the wording is just off. maybe i'll read it through later and fix a few things. anyways, im tagging @keqism, who prompted me to get my idea on paper for scara's bday,,,ty <333 speaking of ideas, i had wayyy too much time thinking about what scenario i could possibly write, and ended up using all my ideas...that's why this piece is so long. anyways, enjoy!

9:00am 

Scaramouche, once the mighty Sixth Harbinger of the Fatui and now the Dendro Archon's helper, has been keeping his birthday a secret from you.

Although the both of you had been together for quite a while, he had given no indication that his birthday fell on the third day of the year, and if it hadn't been for Nahida's intel, you would've never guessed.

You straightened your back, wiping the sweat from your forehead as you examined your handiwork. A couple small sausages lay on the chopping board in front of you, the bottom half of them sliced into eighths. They looked just like the pictures in the recipe you were using (if you were willing to look past the fact that the cuts were uneven), and if the instructions were correct, the ends would curl up when they were put to fry.

Such was the magic of squid sausages - and you were hoping your boyfriend would love it.

Being no good at cooking, Scaramouche had designated himself to be the household chef, claiming that even as a puppet, he was not immune to food poisoning. That didn't stop you though.

Knowing that Scaramouche had hidden his birthday away from you probably meant that he had never celebrated it in his life - or maybe he never had a reason to. But now that you were in his life, you were determined to bring a smile to his face - starting with breakfast in bed.

You filled the heated pan with some oil and put the sausages into it, biting back a yelp as the oil began to react violently. You watched with bated breath as the ends of the sausages began to curl outwards, and you switched off the stove after a few moments, too afraid that the sausages would begin to burn. Turning to the bento box sitting on the counter, you began to organize its contents carefully, folding the fried eggs into rolls and shaping them into hearts. You positioned the sausages to lie face up, placing the bacon you had made earlier on top of them to make it look like a blanket.

When it looked perfect in your eyes, you took the bento into one hand and a glass of juice into the other. and made your way to your shared bedroom. You walked as lightly as possible, being careful enough to not accidentally spill the juice, but it still quivered dangerously in its glass as you opened the bedroom door. I'm shaking it way too much...

Looking up, you almost dropped the bento to the ground. Before you, Scaramouche lay on his back, hands behind his head - clearly wide awake. At the sight of you, he cocked his eyebrows.

"Good morning! You're awake," you said cheerfully, shaking out of your initial shock. You dropped the bento and the glass on his bedside table, taking a seat next to where he was lying.

"Well it was sort of hard to stay asleep with all the ruckus you were making," he mumbled, his voice still hoarse with sleep. "Didn't I tell you to stay out of the kitchen?"

"Well yeah, but I didn’t," He sat up, and you took the bento into your hands, placing it on his lap. "Bon appetit, sweetheart."

He poked at the food with his fork, taking a bit of the eggs into his mouth. You clasped your hands together, awaiting his response, but he remained silent. 

"Well? How does it taste?"

"...It's quite good actually. You've improved a lot." You beamed, and he reached up to tousle your hair. 

"Aren't you wondering what the occasion is?" you asked. You knew Scaramouche wouldn't forget his own birthday – right?

"Not particularly," he responded. His attention was laser-focused on his breakfast, and you almost felt like he had forgotten. Almost. But you knew better than to fall for his poker-face.

You touched his shoulder, and he looked up, finally glimpsing the serious expression on your face. "Come on, don't act like you don't know. Today is your birthday, isn't it?"

He paused his chewing, wide eyes locked on yours. So Nahida was right - it really was his birthday.

"Who told you? It was Nahida, wasn't it?" His eyes glinted, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Yeah, but why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I don't like following stupid human customs,” he replied nonchalantly, popping a squid sausage into his mouth.

"I knew you would've said something like that. But I'll show you how amazing our 'stupid human customs' can be!"

He paused his chewing. "What are you thinking about doing?"

You stood up from the bed quickly, your excitement beginning to bubble over. "I'm glad you asked! I have a lot of things planned for us today-"

"Absolutely not. Ignore what Nahida told you."

His rejection meant nothing – you had many cards up your sleeve, cards that would have him succumbing to your plans in a second. You sat back onto the bed, looking at him with pleading eyes as you pulled your lips into a pretty pout. "Please? Do it for me?"

"...Fine. But at least let me wash the dishes. You’ve already cooked."

"No! It's your birthday!"

"If you don't let me at least wash the dishes then I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Okay! The dishes are yours to handle."

11:00am

"Here we are!" you said, pointing to the low-ceiling building in front of you. It was a Sumerian restaurant, one that had opened recently. Its roof was tiled with vibrant green, and patterned, red cloth was hung from each of the four posts at the corners of the restaurant. It looked even better than the last time you saw it.

"And what is this?" Scaramouche deadpanned. He looked up at the restaurant with no kind of amazement.

"A restaurant, obviously." 

"But we just ate."

"Well all that traveling has got me hungry! Besides, I've been wanting to take you here since they first opened. Let's go!" you said, pushing him towards a seat on the outskirts of the pavilion.

As soon as the both of you sat down, a waitress approached your table, smiling cordially. "What would you guys like to order?"

Scaramouche opened his mouth (no doubt to tell the waitress off for rushing the both of you), when you leaned over and touched his forearm. His attention now fully focused on you, you took his distraction as an opportunity to intervene.

"Yes, we'd love to order now. I'd like to have the Aaru Mixed Rice, and he'll take the Tandoori Chicken, please."

"I don't think I've ever heard of that dish in my life," Scaramouche mumbled under his breath. 

You patted his hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, I know you'll love it."

"Okay!" the waitress said as she finished scribbling in her tiny notepad. "Your food will be ready in fifteen minutes tops!"

"I'm going to the washroom, I'll be right back," Scaramouche said, getting up from his seat as the waitress departed.

You leaned back in your chair, feeling its cold metal digging into your skin. So far, things were going well, and your boyfriend hadn’t been reacting negatively. As a matter of fact, he wasn't giving any type of reaction. You knew he wasn't often the excitable type, but you were beginning to wonder if taking him out was the best idea. He wasn't easy to appease, and while you enjoyed teasing him, you didn't want to upset him.

Maybe there's a reason why he never shared his birthday with me, you thought.

You both had your fair share of baggage, but Scaramouche's past was darker by far - there was no doubt he hid it from you without a good reason. You sighed, fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth, when a large shadow loomed over the table.

"Scara, are you-" You turned your head, and the words died on your lips.

It was your ex, a smug smile plastered onto his face, like a pirate who had found some thousand-year-old treasure. The look sent a shiver down your spine. What was he doing here?

"Well, look who it is. It's been a long time, hasn't it? What are you doing at a restaurant like this?" He reached out to touch your hair, and you instantly recoiled.

You straightened your back, giving him a dirty stare. "That's none of your business, Earl."

He let out a hearty laugh, but you knew he was less than amused at the situation. It only masked his anger at being talked back to, if anything.

"Seems like you grew some guts since the last time we saw each other," he said lowly, his gaze traveling to the empty seat across from you. "And it also looks like you're here with new company. Your better half, maybe?"

Earl cackled again, attracting the attention of a few customers nearby.

"And who the fuck are you?" a voice laced with barely restrained anger echoed from behind Earl, and you heaved a sigh of relief.

Although Earl was probably a full foot taller than your boyfriend, his confidence seemed to wither under the ex-Harbinger's stare.

Your ex grit his teeth, trying in vain to maintain his confident exterior. "I'm the ex. Who the hell are you?"

You saw a muscle tic in Scaramouche's jaw. "I'm the boyfriend. Now scram."

Earl gave him one last look before turning awkwardly on his feet, scurrying as quickly as possible in the other direction. Scaramouche took his seat across from you silently, as if nothing had happened.

You cleared your throat. "I'm so sorry-"

He waved his hand in dismissal. "It's fine. Let's move on."

You nodded, and a comfortable silence settled over your table gradually. Scaramouche’s purple eyes ventured out of the lookout point and beyond the city, and you followed his gaze.

It was basically a perfect view of the landscape of Sumeru, luscious green stretching on for miles and miles into the horizon. The sounds of laughter and talking along with the clatter of cutlery in the restaurant provided a busy sense of comfort, and for a moment you knew this was right where you needed to be – even if you had been accosted by an asshole mere minutes ago.

You looked back at Scaramouche, only to see him already staring at you. A sharp intake of breath escaped through your mouth.

"Well? How are you enjoying the view? I believe this is the best seat outside," you said hurriedly, taking a sip of your water to hide how flustered you were. Even though the both of you had been together for a considerable while, his purple stare never ceased to send your heart into disarray.

"It's...actually beautiful. Nice job," he replied, his gaze not once flickering back to the scenery.

Chuckling shyly, you pulled your hands into your lap. You opened your mouth to reply when you saw the waitress approaching your table at the corner of your eye, her hands filled with platters of food.

"Enjoy your meal!" She put the dishes on the table carefully, departing soon after. To say the food looked delectable would have been an understatement. The Tandoori Chicken seemed to be cooked perfectly, its golden skin shining under the sun. The rice you ordered was piled onto the plate, its colors varying as much as the ingredients used to make it. Both dishes smelled absolutely delicious, and your mouth watered as its aroma filled your nose.

"Taste it and tell me if you like it!" You took a bit of his chicken with your fork, and brought it to his lips.

He scowled, but it didn't hide the deep red coloring the tips of his ears. Taking the food into his mouth, he began to chew slowly. You watched as his eyes gradually lit up, and he swallowed.

"Well?"

"It's definitely not bad." You chuckled, knowing that that was probably the biggest praise he would probably ever give. From the way he was eating, you could tell he was enjoying the food.

After a few moments, he spoke again. “What’s next on the agenda?”

Deciding to be a little playful, you said: “Agenda? Who told you we were going anywhere else?”

Scaramouche put his fork down and glared at you, his mouth twisted into a frown. “You said you had plans – plural.”

You laughed; he was so easy to tease it was almost ridiculous.

“Don’t worry about that right now. Just focus on eating.”

2:00pm

By the time the both of you had paid the bill and left the restaurant, the sun had risen to its station in the sky, watching over Sumeru with a burning glare. People who had initially decided to eat outside fled from the scorching heat, and you yourself had taken off your jacket, already beginning to boil as well. Scaramouche, as expected, didn’t give any indication that he was bothered by the heat.

“Where do we go next?” he asked, as the both of you continued along the path leading deeper into Sumeru city. It was probably the fifth time he had asked since the both of you left the restaurant.

“Oh? Are you, by any chance, excited about our next destination?” You hooked your arm through his.

He rolled his eyes at the smile plastered onto your face, but didn’t say anything to deny it. “To answer your question, we’ll be going to a spot right outside the city, to do something I think you’ll enjoy. But we have to make a stop over here first.”

You pulled him towards a pair of large, brass doors, the steep, rounded stairs leading the both of you to the Bazaar. It was as busy as expected, shop owners clamoring loudly as customers bustled through stalls. The air was thick with the aroma of spices and flora, and dancers practiced on the large stage, their costumes glimmering under the bright spotlight. 

You led Scaramouche to a stall on the right, being careful not to bump into the crowd. “What could you possibly want from here?” He asked, raising his voice over the commotion.

“You’ll see!”

Eventually, you reached a small stall at the corner of the Bazaar. Two shelves at the back contained row after row of bouquets, all in the most elaborate vases, and flower vines wrapped around the posts holding up the canopy of the stall. Behind the counter sat an old lady with kind eyes hidden behind thick glasses.

“Mrs. Li! I’ve come to pick up my order.”

“You’re here, finally. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show up,” she got up slowly, making her way to the back of her stall. Mrs. Li was a gardener who hailed from Liyue, who decided to travel to Sumeru to partake in the market of selling plants and flowers. You had met her on your own travels to Liyue, and when you heard that she was opening a shop in the Bazaar, you knew you needed to check it out.

You turned to Scaramouche, who was shuffling from foot to foot. His face harbored no expression, but you knew he was less than pleased at the crowd.

You took his hand in yours, rubbing circles onto his knuckles soothingly. “Don’t worry, we don’t have much longer. I just need to grab something from here and we’ll be on our way.” You gave his hand a light squeeze and felt him squeeze back.

“Did you buy me a present from this stall?” 

Before you could reply, Mrs. Li reappeared behind the counter, holding a simple yet beautiful bouquet in her hands. She winked and smiled at Scaramouche sweetly, before handing the flowers to you.

“Here you are. Enjoy!”

---

Back outside, you dragged Scaramouche to the first empty corner that you spied, eager to let him examine the bouquet more closely. You had placed the order for a custom-made bouquet an entire month before his birthday – and Mrs. Li surely delivered. 

“Here you are,” you said, thrusting the bouquet into his hands. You leaned over and pecked his cheek. “Happy birthday, handsome.”

His ears reddened at the nickname. “Thank you.”

“Look here,” you reached over and opened the pristine, white card attached to it. Written in gold lettering were the names of the flowers included in the bouquet, along with their respective meanings. “The pink bluebells signify everlasting love, the gardenias represent joy, the balloon flowers mean endless love and honesty…”

Scaramouche said nothing, but you knew he was listening attentively. He stared at the bouquet, his eyes slightly glazed over.

“Well? Do you like it?”

“I do.” His voice was quiet. He reached up and plucked one of the balloon flowers from the bouquet. You opened your mouth to protest, but not before he could lean over and bury it in your hair.

“These mean endless love, right…?” He said nothing more, but the implications were clear. The tips of his ears were red again, but this time you also felt a familiar heat creep into your cheeks. Even though this was his day and you were supposed to be treating him, he still found ways to make you fall in love all over again.

Patting his shoulder, you whispered, “Thank you.”

He looked away first, clearing his throat. “...Anyways, let’s go to the next place.”

4:00pm

The both of you walked in silence to the city gates, his left arm holding the bouquet close to his heart, and the other linked with yours. There was a certain bounce in his step that told you the gradual quietness of the atmosphere had improved his mood significantly, and with the way he was holding the bouquet, you knew he wouldn’t be parting ways with it in a hurry. He always made it a point that he detested sentimentality with every fiber of his being, but you knew him for too long to know that that wasn’t true.

Eventually, the both of you came across a clearing where a park had been installed. The grass was short but still thrived, and the rustle of the leaves overhead was more than enough to send a pleasant wave through your body. There were a few wooden tables evenly spaced out in the clearing, and lucky for the both of you, they were all empty. You led Scaramouche to the table closest to the trees and under the shade, and rested your satchel onto the table as you took your seat.

Scaramouche sat opposite to you, still clutching the bouquet of flowers to his chest. He looked around the empty area, the wind tousling his hair.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to have another meal,” he said flatly, watching as you rummaged through your satchel.

“No, actually. Although I do have some sandwiches in case any one of us gets hungry.”

You pulled out a dark brown, wooden box from your satchel and placed it onto the table, its cover painted with gold patterns. You opened the cover to reveal an abundance of potted paints and a variety of paintbrushes. Your boyfriend’s eyes widened at the sight of it, and you smiled.

Not long after he began working under Nahida, he had picked up the art of painting. He had spent endless hours working colors onto canvases – but he had never once showed you any of his artworks. Once day, while the both of you were walking along the streets of Sumeru, you noticed how the embellished wooden box of paints had snagged his attention, and he didn’t seem to take his eyes off of it until the both of you had rounded the corner.

“I know you seemed particularly interested in these paints the last time, so I decided to get it for you before they all sold out. I hope you like it.” Just like before, his eyes stayed glued to the box as you slid it towards him on the table. “I also brought some canvases. I thought we could try a little something.”

You reached into your satchel and pulled out two small canvases, along with two matching easels. 

“I’ve been seeing a lot of other people doing this and I thought it might be interesting…let’s try painting each other!”

He put down the cerulean blue paint pot he was examining and focused his full attention on you. His eyes narrowed. “Is this your excuse to take a peek at one of my paintings?” 

You threw your hands up in defense. “No! I just wanted you to try the paints out, and we can spend some quality time together while you’re at it.”

He hummed, probably only half-convinced, before taking up one of the easels. “Let’s get started then. Sunset is close.”

And so it began – your journey to capture the essence of your beloved’s soul onto a canvas. It puzzled you how Scaramouche – usually abrasive and snappy – could take up such a hobby, which required time and patience. Glancing over at him, you could see that his eyes, which were usually stormy, were now peaceful and clear, and the seemingly permanent scowl on his face had melted away. His paintbrush danced across his canvas in long and short strokes, and his palette was already filled with a myriad of mesmerizing colors. 

You, on the other hand, were struggling.

The colors you chose looked off together, and you never seemed to choose the right paintbrush to do the job. If you were in any other situation, you would’ve been pissed, but the most important thing was that Scaramouche seemed to be enjoying himself. That alone was enough to keep your mood from plummeting.

“I’m done. What about you?” he asked, setting his paintbrush down.

You were busy trying to fix the head you had painted for him, which looked more like a lopsided egg than anything else. You were about finished with the general painting, but nothing looked quite right. 

“Uh, I need more time,” you mumbled, painting over his bangs.

He nodded slowly, reaching over in your satchel to have a sandwich. Sitting back, you examined your painting from afar. If you squint a little, it doesn’t look so bad…

“That’s enough fixing. Let’s see your rendition of me.” You jumped, startled at his loud voice.

“Fine…It’s not any good, but in my defense, I don’t think I’ve ever held a paintbrush in my life…” You turned the easel towards him, watching his reaction closely.

His eyes widened into a look of horror, before his eyebrows twitched into a frown – but then, he did the unthinkable.

Scaramouche slapped his hand over his mouth and let out a full-bodied laugh, loud enough to echo through the park. He bent over his seat, his cheeks red and splotchy as tears began to stream down his eyes. You stared at him, shocked by his reaction. Was your painting really that hideous?

Finally, he calmed down, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes.

“Well? I hope I did your handsomeness justice,” you said lightly, playing off your incompetence as a joke. 

He took the canvas from the easel and smiled – one of the biggest you had seen in a long time. “...It needs some work. Maybe I’ll teach you some basics in the coming days.”

You smiled, before your gaze slid to his own canvas and easel. “You’ve had your fun, now let me have mine. I want to see your painting.”

He seemed to hesitate, his eyes lingering on the picture, before turning his easel towards you. You gasped.

To say it was breathtaking would’ve been an understatement. He had painted a picture of you smiling so deeply that your eyes were closed, and your hair seemed to blow in some imaginary wind. It didn’t even seem that he had pulled together such a piece in only two hours.

“Oh wow…” You breathed.

“I take it that you like it?” Scaramouche’s voice wavered a bit, and you looked up. His gaze was laser-focused on the wooden table in front of him, and a light blush dusted his cheeks.

“It’s absolutely amazing! I’m just surprised that you showed me your painting with so little convincing. You’ve never done that before.”

He shrugged. “It was the least I could do, especially for the paints.”

You reached over to give his hand a light squeeze. He squeezed back, and you smiled.

The sky overhead was beginning to turn purple, and you got up, taking a deep stretch. “The sun is starting to set, so let’s get going now.”

He stood up as well, packing away the supplies. “Are you done with your little tricks, or are we actually heading home now?” There was no bite to his words, and his lips were curled into a small smile. You held out your hand to him.

“Nope! I have one more place to take you. I have a feeling you’ll love this one the most.”

7:00pm

The sun had fully dipped below the horizon by the time the both of you had arrived at your last destination. Although the journey had only taken half an hour, you were panting by the time you made it up the hill.

“Here we are! Our final destination,” you spread your arms, taking your last few steps onto the plateau of the hill. From your location, you could see the entirety of Sumeru City in all its glory at night – a mix of warm glowing lights and stunning architecture. It was truly a sight to behold.

You turned around, feeling the absence of Scaramouche’s warmth by your side. He was standing a few feet away from you, moonlight shining onto his face. He was still holding the bouquet and canvas, but his eyes held a faraway look.

“Hey, are you okay?” you asked, walking towards him again. He shook his head and took a deep breath, coming out of his trance.

“Isn’t this the place where we…?” He didn’t finish his question, nor did he have to. You knew what he was talking about.

Months ago, when the both of you were still hiding your infatuation for the other under a moth-bitten veil, you had journeyed up that very hill with him to star-gaze. A study of the constellations quickly turned into a confession, and the next thing you knew, his soft, inviting lips were on yours. It wasn’t a day you had ever forgotten, and by the looks of it, it hadn’t slipped his mind either.

You looked out at the city again, a small smile creeping onto your face at the memory. “It is. Do you mind being here?”

He shook his head, and followed you to where you stood at the plateau. You took a large cloth out of your satchel and spread it across the stony ground, taking your seat next to him. It was usually so easy to forget what a small place you took up in the world with everything going on around you, but with your gaze elevated towards the stars, all your worries melted away.

From next to you, you felt Scaramouche’s hand slowly creep onto yours, your fingers intertwining. You looked towards him and smiled, reaching up to run your fingers through his soft hair.

“How do you like the view?” You whispered. He leaned into your touch and closed his eyes.

“It’s just the same as I remembered it,” he opened his eyes suddenly, and a serious look crossed his face. “But didn’t I tell you the stars in the sky were fake?”

You rolled your eyes at him, your gaze turning towards the sky once again. The stars seemed to have been thrown randomly throughout the sky, some bigger and brighter than others. Some also appeared to be twinkling. Even if your boyfriend was right, and the stars really were fake, was it not enough to appreciate the night sky as it was?

You turned to Scaramouche, only to see him staring back at you.

“Frankly, I don’t care if they’re fake or not. What really matters is whether or not you enjoyed your birthday.”

He turned his face away from you, obviously hiding a smile. “Well? Did you?” You reached around his neck, dragging him towards you so that your forehead was against his.

“Of course I did, idiot. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here now.”

You sighed, relief flooding your chest. “Well, that’s a relief. I was wondering if all my careful planning would be a waste.”

He leaned over and gave your cheek a light peck, before the both of you settled into a comfortable silence. However, something still lingered at the back of your mind, only beginning to resurface now that your surroundings were quiet.

“Scaramouche.”

“Hm?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your birthday?”

In your arms, you felt his body tense up, before he pulled away from you. His eyes were shadowed with an indescribable emotion, and he edged away from you, the few inches of space between you now feeling like miles and miles of cold nothingness. You could feel him mentally pulling away from you, and you knew asking such a question was a huge mistake. 

“It’s okay! You don’t have to answer…Just pretend I never asked.”

With his face angled towards the ground, it was difficult to gauge his expression. After a few agonizing moments, he finally shook his head, turning to face you.

He was crying.

Tears streamed down his face, and his breaths came in short gasps. It was nothing like a few hours earlier, when he had laughed so hard he started crying – these were real tears, glistening with sadness and hurt.

“I’m so sorry! Please, don’t cry…”

Comforting others wasn’t usually your strong suit, especially when it came to Scaramouche. He would always request that you leave him alone whenever he was facing another one of his nightmares, always desiring to put up a strong front. But you could always see in his eyes how much he needed you there by his side, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it.

However, in that moment when he turned to you, his energy was different. His usually hard exterior had totally shattered, leaving nothing but a broken boy. He was broken, but he was still beautiful.

Tentatively, you reached out to wipe the tears from his cheek. He leaned towards you, burying his neck in your face, and you wrapped your arms around his shaking form. A few minutes passed with the both of you huddled together like that – or it could’ve been hours, you weren’t sure – before he finally pulled away, his cheeks still red and splotchy.

“I’m sorry…” He sniffled, and you felt your heart breaking all over again.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for anything. It was my–” 

“No.” He inhaled deeply and straightened his back, his eyes hardening with a new resolve. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You stared at him in silence for a few moments, before he continued. “I’ve never celebrated my birthday. Before I met you, before all of this, I hated myself. I didn’t see the point in my creation – my mother had found me defective, and tossed me out like trash. I had spent years suffering and consequently making others suffer because I hated myself. But now–”

He took your hand gently, caressing your knuckles. “Now, because of you, I don’t feel like that at all, and it’s almost scary. I’ve been hating myself since I existed, and now I can’t bring myself to feel like that again…It’s so scary.”

You pulled him into a hug again, and he wrapped his arms tightly around you. In the crook of your neck, you heard him whisper: “I don’t deserve this kindness…”

You pulled away from him to look him in the eyes, wiping away the extra tears that had fallen. “No, you do. Even if you don’t think so, you have good in you – you are good.”

He began to shake his head, but you took his face into your hands, making sure that he had nothing else to focus on except you. “Yes, you are good. What about all those times you insisted on helping me around the house? And when you defended me earlier today? You might not think of yourself as kind, but everyone else can clearly see it. Although I can’t speak for anyone else, I for one am glad that you’re here with me, even after everything you’ve been through.” 

One of your hands came up to rest on his chest, where his heart should’ve been. You leaned over giving him a small peck on his nose. “Don’t cry, okay? It’s called happy birthday for a reason.”

He couldn’t fight the smile that crept onto his face at your analogy.

“If you don’t mind, can I ask you something? How did you enjoy your first birthday celebration? I know you said birthdays were stupid…” You chuckled at the memory from earlier, and he followed suit. You were glad to see him smiling again.

“Of course. Didn’t I tell you before? If I didn’t like it, I would’ve left a long time ago. And you were so kind, doing all these things…” He stole a glance at the bouquet and the canvases peeking out from inside your satchel.

You released a sigh of relief, the weight on your shoulders lifting. “I’m glad, then.”

You pressed your lips to his, and he reciprocated, deepening the kiss. You pulled away first, leaning your forehead against his. If you weren’t sure earlier, you were definitely now – he was the one you wanted to be with at the end of your days. 

The moon was already deep into its journey through the sky, but you didn’t want the night to end. You just wanted to see him happy for as long as he existed. 

“Happy birthday, Scaramouche.”