#sky/ice/silk

[otiksimr]

What about a cross between three tribes? I was thinking about a Skywing, Icewing, and Silkwing tribrid.

They hate each other <3

[iniziare]

❝  so,  what would you be?  if you had to power to change all the things making you unhappy,  what would your life look like?  ❞ [ baiheng to jingliu, late night contemplations over wine perhaps ]

Prompt: Unprompted. // @resolutepath

It taken root long ago, the fear that had been instilled within the heart of a child at a sight none should ever bear to witness. A fear that had kept her from slumber too oft a time, one that she would bear, she knew, until her hands could hold a blade no longer. It was not a fear that caused her limbs to tremble in a moment such as this; no, it was a fear of closing her eyes for even the briefest sliver in time, even one that was caught within the warmth of a sun's rays. Nothing could appease it, and yet, when presented with the dream of grasping at a life that held such endless peace that knew no presence of cursed memories, and instead, held endless normality and chance, she found herself unwilling to reach out to it, and touch even a single petal of its promise. Dreams, after all, were for those who had lived their lives in regret, and that, was a reality of which she was not part. She would face the terrors, and the visions, and the aches of the mind, if each day that followed would echo the laughs of their kinship, joy, and promises that she knew would prove to last a Xianzhou lifetime. That, above all, was the life that she craved to lodge into the palms of her hands, until her lips could hold a smile no longer, and her hands had grown too weak for any blade; until one day, death would prove her only savior from the torments of a childhood's nightmare, taking the secret of its existence into her grave.

But until then, as Baiheng's voice rung clearly in her ear, the birth of something akin to a smile prompting itself amidst a countenance that had warmed in the sun that hung so high overhead. "It matters little, Baiheng, for any other life would not be the one that I have today." After all, it is the four of them that had granted her, finally, the earnest gift of a will to live, and a home to fight, and persevere for. "Who needs dreams, when one is content with their life?" Perhaps in that, lay her question posed in counter: Are you happy as I am, my friend?

[snowdrop-wolf]

ok, so, I may have disappeared for a while but I'm back now

I'm also exhausted 😮‍💨

but to make up for not being around for a while, I might just share some WoF OCs

I currently have 20 different OCs, ten of them are just a shit ton of fades on WoF Roblox, while the other ten are random generator/Picrew/WoF Roblox

fades won't be too crazy while generated will be nuts, please don't hate on me for my generated OCs 😭

more update under cut

I've also become addicted to PokeWilds for those of you who know what that is

also been getting stressed out by school (thank you 😒)

also been reading WoF graphic novels, almost done with 7, are there any more graphic novels after 7 yet? I don't wanna wait forever to read the next book and I struggle to read normal books

a friend of mine ended up dislocating their knee and is currently riding around in the school wheelchair, you know who you are

recently been stressing about notes

have the state test coming up so more to stress about

and I think that's it

thanks for reading til the end, I appreciate those of you who did 😁❤️

[shockwave-the-dog]

Been getting into TMA and back into WoF so hear me out: TMA Wof au

[luveline]

Hii i love the way you write!!! Could you write something about bad ass reader X Spencer? I miss them soo much.... Maybe something about her saying I love you for the first time and she's nervous and he's confused bc he's not understanding why she's nervous and what she's trying to say ❤️❤️❤️

some light spencer fluff ! love u. fem

Spencer has hair like silk. Brown, shiny curls in the milky moonlight of a September sky. The cold air nips his nose and cheeks, leaving ruddy blush like cherry stains that bring out the endless brown of his eyes. His hand is callused beneath yours, evidence of hour upon hour of stooped writing, pen ink on his fingertips, dark black smudges that stretch as they squeeze. He tips his head back to look at the bruising sky and the stars are like pin pricks, close and very, very far as he again squeezes your hand. You’re surprised you can see the stars, but this part of the country is quiet. 

“Wow, look at all of those,” he says, like he’s begging you to see them too; worried you’ll miss out on such a heart-rending sight. 

You let your side weigh on his and look up, feeling the cold of each star above you like a sudden breeze. Your nose is ice, your lips chapping despite a little lip balm you’d rushed on before you left the cottage. It’s a small, beautiful place, decorated by its patches, ivy and cobbled roofing, window panes replaced in different shades of pink and orange and green. You can see it from where you’re standing, a light forgotten in the bathroom. 

Let’s go on a walk, Spencer‘d said, before it gets too cold. 

It’s too cold already. You shiver, forcing more of your weight into Spencer’s side, only slightly abashed as he wraps his arm around you and presses the soft of his cheek to your head. “See that one?” he asks, smiling, “I think that’s the North Star. Brightest one.” 

You close your eyes.

“It’s really cold, isn’t it?” he asks. 

“It’s freezing.” 

Spencer noses your cheek. Your stomach flips, a zapping, sickening electricity bending and aching inside you from his innocuous touch. Intimacy with Spencer has become casual, but not less exciting. You feel him like a contusion, sometimes. Right in the pit of your stomach. It borders on unpleasant, though it never quite gets there. You want him to do this to you for the rest of your life, you think, opening your eyes to catch a last look at the dark sky and its rich field of stars like white strawberry seeds. 

Spencer’s watching you when you drop your chin. You’d scowl if he were anyone else, reluctant to be caught relaxed, but it’s him. 

“You okay?” 

“Shouldn’t I be?” you ask. You’ve given little clue of nerves. You’re as rigid as ever, the softest part of you your hand where he’s petting your index finger. 

“I know when you’re… not fully you,” he says. 

“I’m still me. Just worried.” 

“About what?”

There’s a layer of gutted to his voice you don’t like. You shouldn’t be worried about anything. You and your colleagues at the BAU recently received a pay rise at work, as well as a small bonus, which you and Spencer then cashed to vacation here. It might not be the best time of year, but anywhere with Spencer can be perfect. So far it has been. Waking up with him in a space that isn’t his apartment or yours feels new, startlingly good, it makes you think of the future in ways you hadn’t considered in depth previously. The aching puddle of your stomach yawns again. 

“I have something– something I–” You wince through it as Spencer’s brows rise. “I need to tell you something, Spencer. Before it jumps out of me.” 

“Okay.” His breath is like mist in front of him. His cheeks continue in their reddening. 

“I’m worried I won’t say it the right way.” 

Spencer shakes his head. You’d like to rub some warmth into his skin, but you don’t trust your hands to stay steady. “You’re making me nervous.”

“I’m really happy we’re here. I can’t… there isn’t any other way I’d like to spend the weekend. This is really– Spencer, this is perfect, and it’s because of you. Us.“ Spencer’s overlooked and under appreciated everywhere he goes. Just once, you want him to feel seen for the gem he is. “I really,” —your breath leaves you like it’s been yanked from your chest— “love you.” 

Spencer brings your hand to his chest. “You love me?” he asks, kissing your fingers. 

You dip your chin to your chest. “Yeah.” 

“I love you.“ What an odd emphasis, and somehow the right one. 

You nod. That’s good. It’s good to be loved. You’d known he loved you, of course, but it’s good to have it said aloud. 

“You aren’t surprised?” he asks. “But, why were you worried?” 

Hard to explain. You give in to temptation, cradling the cold stretch of his cheek to rub a thumb over his bottom lip. Your lip balm has left it soft. “I told you, I didn’t think I’d say it right.” 

“You don’t usually say anything wrong.” 

Spencer wraps his arm around you and tugs you in for a hug. You stumble back at the force of him and he sways you from one side to the other, keeping you up with him, frosting grass crunching under your shoes. The night is quiet here, coloured only by the shush of the wind and the stirring leaves of the woodlands. Spencer’s breath is by far the loudest sound, a huffing, happy thing that betrays his excitement. “I love you,” he says on a laugh. “It was nice to see you struggling to talk, for once, but you don’t need to be nervous with me. I love you.” Two admissions at once. You find yourself renewed.

“It was a one time thing, I assure you.” 

“Consider me assured,” he says, ferrying your face up for a warm kiss. 

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hiii!! Can I make a request? Its kinda long tho so I totally understand if you don't wanna write it !! :)

so basically what I had in mind is rhys' sister!reader x az, she got kidnapped by hybern on the day rhys's mother died and everyone had thought his sister died too but she didn't she was kidnapped and her memories were erased. After the war with hybern the ic runs into her and shes all bloody and injured because turns out she was fighting hybern soldiers as well because she finally saw an opportunity to be free. As soon as rhys saw her he recognises her but before he could even utter a word, she faints, so they take her to night court and nurses her back to health. When she wakes up she gets really emotional when she sees rhys because she feels like she should know him but she doesn't cuz she doesn't have any memories, later they get helion to fix her memories and there's a very emotional brother sister reunion. Az finds out he's her mate but he doesn't tell her and rhys is very protective of reader cuz he just got her back so he forbids az from dating her or anything, but she doesn't know that so she thinks az doesn't like her back so she's devastated over that. I didn't think of what would happen after that so you can come up with the rest but pleeeeeaaasee give az and reader a happy ending. Also can you include that reader had dreams of az the way rhys had dreams of feyre? 🥹

Thank you and I hope you have a good day!! <33

I switched it ever so slightly, hope you’ll still enjoy it!🤍🫧Part II

Lost and found

It’s your hair he sees first. There’s something in the onyx gleam that screams familiar. That is different from any other shade of black. Rhys’s mother always said that they bore all shades of the night sky in their hair. As a gift from the gods. It wasn’t pitch black, no. There was depth. Stars even. They gleamed. You gleamed. He nearly sank to his knees once you turned your bloodied face towards him. It felt as if looking in the mirror. He had pictured you in his head. Had made Feyre paint you. Paint you how he imagined you would have looked all grown up. If you had that chance if you were still with him. His little northern star. And you were here now. In front of him. Sward in hand as if you weren’t sure if you were supposed to stab him or leave him be. Shaking and so frail. Line Feyre was. Just like Rhys had found his mate. Broken and confused. Unsure of anything. Jumpy and scared. “Yn”, it’s a whisper but from the way your body shivers Rhys knows that the name speaks to you. Does his voice speak to you? Do you even remember? “I just want to be free”, you mutter, “Help me get free”. Rhys watches your body sag and his legs move forward before he can even think. Arms reaching for your body. Desperate to break your fall. To save you from this at least in hopes this would somehow make a difference.

Rhys sits by your side from the moment Madja lets him in. She’s doubtful about you waking up soon. Even more doubtful if it’s good for Rhys to be there. And a part of him knows it too but he can’t help it. It’s as if he’s pulled to you. By the need to see you. To know that he hasn’t just imagined you. Your eyes flutter open after a week of nothing but shallow breathing. Your body feels heavy and achy. The walls surrounding you are unfamiliar. But there are no shackles. No ropes. You’re in a big bed. With silk sheets around you. And then your eyes land on a male sitting in the chair. He’s watching you. But watching you as if observing a wild animal that might flee after a move too sudden.

“How are you feeling?”, he speaks up and his voice alone scratches something deep inside your brain. Something you should know. But you don’t. You can’t reach. “I’m Rhys. You’re in my court. You’re safe”, he continues, leaning in slightly, moving to reach for your hand that you quickly pull closer to your chest. You see the hurt flash in his eyes. But it disappears almost immediately. He bares your features. His eyes are your eyes and that’s enough to make your heart pick up. Is he family? A far down-the-line relative?

“You look at me like you know me…”, you mutter, feeling your eyes burn, “but i don’t know you”. Rhys takes a shaky breath and you could swear his hands are trembling. But he smiles regardless, “That’s okay, we have time”. You watch him for a moment, a stranger in front of you. They said that you had no one. There was no one out there for you. “What if I don’t want to know you?”, that’s a blow that leaves a permanent mark on his face, the frown line between his eyebrows. “That’s okay too. I won’t force you”, Rhys’s voice grows shaky, “All you need to know is that you are safe. I and my people will keep you safe. You told me that you wanted to be free. You’re free now”. He stands up quietly. Pushing the chair to the side. You catch a glimpse of a female standing at the door as he moves to leave the room. The door isn’t fully closed when a sob slips past his lips. She embraces him and it’s all muffled by the closed door.

“She’s wiped clean”, Helion’s words send another blow at Rhys’s chest. “There might be bits of her past there but… this will have to be gradual Rhys, if it all was taken from her, getting all the memories back might fry her brain out”, Helion crosses his arms over his chest watching you in one of his gardens. Hand outstretched to one of his Pegasus. He remembered the little girl. Sat on his knee. Mischievous little thing, he had called you. Now it felt like looking at a ghost. “But is there even a slither of hope?”, Rhys asks, desperately trying to cling to the future where you would recognize him. Helion sighed, “Take this advice from me, someone older than you”, turning to face Rhys, whose troubled face had grown ashy over the past month. “Creat memories with her from now. Build her up from nothing and that alone might make her remember” But how could he? How could anyone just wipe out the grief and terror? The feeling of losing someone and then finding them back once more.

Azriel had sunk to his knees in the room you had laid unconscious for a week. He knew you were mates even then. Both young and careless. He remembered your first kiss. Rushed and messy in one of Rhys’s father’s stables. You had pulled him out. Had been his haven ever since your mother had taken both him and Cass in. Losing you had messed with his head. He had mourned you just the same. Had closed off his heart for anyone. Meaningless fling got easier with time but he still caught himself thinking of you. Calling out your name. Leaving the females snarling at him.

Azriel thought that glimpses of cells. Of you locked up. Scared and crying were nothing but a fickle of imagination. He saw you drawing night skies. He saw you kill. But now he knew that it had been your unconsciousness calling to him. Zaps of bond binding you both connecting momentarily. He hated himself. He hated that he did nothing. That he had let go. Had given up. But they had found the body. Berried someone. Someone who wasn’t you. Azriel only visited once. That one time and then he erased himself out of the equation. Because maybe it was better that way. Because he wasn’t worthy of your love. He couldn’t protect you after all.

Rhys was happy with that choice too. It was petty but he didn’t want to share you with anyone. Not that he had you. Any part of you. Because nothing changed. He talked. Told you stories but you just shook your head. You didn’t know him. You didn’t trust him. And nothing he did made any breakthrough.

It was the night Azriel had accidentally walked into the study where you and Rhys were. Ready to drop off the reports he had written for the week’s work. His black shirt is slightly unbuttoned. Sleeves rolled up. Your eyes had drifted away from the painting towards the man standing in the hallway. Man your eyes always seemed to find. Man who had been avoiding you ever since you got here. It painted you slightly. It was the only person you seemed to want to reach but he was the only one keeping the furthest away.

Your eyes landed on his arms. The dim light dancing on the black ink snaking up his left arm. The book you held slipped past your fingers. Clattering to the floor with a thud. “Y/n, dear, is everything alright?”, Rhys was in front of you in an instant. Worried face searching yours. “Your left shoulder”, you muttered, pointing at Azriel. He halted in his movement. The handful of papers stuck midair. “Show me your left shoulder”, you muttered.

Azriel’s eyes looked up at you, “What for?”, it was colder. He was protecting whatever was there. Holding onto the last part of you he had. You stepped past Rhys. “I know that… pattern”, you muttered. “It’s old Illyrian”, Rhys cut in but Azriel only lifted his hand. “Please, I…”, the fuzziness around you ripped as you reached for your dress, yanking the sleeve off, bearing your shoulders to Azriel. His jaw clenched, as he looked away for a moment. And then he ripped his shirt open. And there it was. The same pattern all across his shoulder as well.

Taking a shaky breath you let your head fall into your hands, “You chose it…” A light sob slipped past Azriel’s lips, “I did”, he nodded watching you. “Because you were a bitch about it”, turning to Rhys you pointed a finger at him. “You matted my baby sister behind my back?”, Rhys hissed, the jumble of emotions was making everyone drown. “Mom knew about it, she approved”, you whispered, “Where’s Mom?” Your eyes looked up at Rhys. He slowly shook his head. Another wave of flashes floats through you. You reached back in a frantic breath, “Where are my wings?” An angry tear slipped down Rhys’s face. “Where are they? Where is she?”, you looked among them. Feeling panic slowly drowning you. “Come here”, Azriel pulled at your head, bringing your face to his chest. “No, don’t smother me”, you pushed against him, but Azriel held on tight, holding your shaking form, feeling the burning gaze of his high lord, “I’ve got you. It will settle. Just breathe with me”.

[ghettogirly]

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄!!

-> synopsis: where he sees an unwanted man bothering you at the bar and decides to step in.

[🕷️] warnings: mature language, presence of guns, mention of violence, mention of alcohol.

[🕷️] authors note: this is my first time writing an imagine after three years so bear with me!! please reblog and like if you enjoy!

It was a cool day in nighttime of Miami, the sky cascades with elements of black and dark purple as the day descends into the night. You walked into the club, Zillion, and a stone of lights automatically attacks your eyes. The neon colours and the loud music hits your ears as swarms of people dance around you.

Your friends encouraged you to come out with them for once as you always stay at home, loving the peace and comfort of your own house. However, you felt guilty neglecting them and decided to accept their offer.

“Isn’t this fun!”, your best friend, Selina squeals.

You try push out a smile but you can’t help but still not feel the excitement that runs throughout the cramped room. “This isn’t my vibe, i want to go home already.” You sigh, feeling an aching sensation in the side of your head.

Nevertheless, your friends drags you to a tiny booth, having a small table with a bucket of ice and champagne placed on it. They start dancing to the music a little bit while deciding what they’re going to drink, completely hypnotised by the energy surging throughout the room. You just stand there, trying to loosen up a bit.

Your eyes scan the room, looking over the crowd of people on the dance floor before landing on a balcony on the upper floor. The VIP section. Interested, you observe the people there noticing flamboyant men with chains and clearly a lot of wealth. Sleazy women were scattered around them as they entertained useless conversations and presented flattery to the men. However, there was one particular man who was sitting there, a glass of whiskey and ice in his hand, completely zoned out.

You was fascinated. From your angle you could only see certain details of him. He wore a black silk shirt and ripped jeans, his lips were full, pink and glossy with his right eyebrow having a scar stripped through it. His tan skin shone in the neon lights, the club lights flattering his skin as the purple light compliments his cool undertones.

He was clearly uninterested in the girls around him, his scowl present on his face as he ignores the countless efforts of conversations around him.

Time goes by and you lose focus of everything going around you: eyes glued onto him. Everything seemed to stand still, the world no longer being important unless-

“Hey! What you looking at?” One of your friends shout from across the booth, snapping you out of ogling of the mysterious man. “Nothing. It’s fine.”

“Okay well, can you get us some drinks from the bar? I want a vodka with coke and some shots for the table, get whatever you want it’s on me!” She shouts over the defeaning music, shooing me away.

“Looks like i have no choice,” I sigh.

Walking over to the bar, i sit on one of the wooden stools, waiting for a bartender to approach me. Tapping the table out of habit, i feel a presence behind me. “Hey pretty lady, what’s your name?” The unknown man whispers, i feel his hot breath on my ear, causing me to shiver.

“I don’t have a name.” I groan, not even bothering to turn around and engage with the clearly drunken man, already over with the situation. He sits down beside me nevertheless. “Everyone has a name angel, come on.. tell me.” His alcoholic breath floods my nose, i squirm at the thought of the amount of alcohol he’s consumed.

His hand reaches over to my hair, tucking it behind my ear which now causes me to turn to his direction but move my head back in retaliation from the bold move. “I said i don’t have one, leave me alone.”

Out of nowhere, he grabs my face and forces me to look at him. “Don’t make me ask again.” The force he inflicts on my face causes my eyes to water, unable to say anything due to the man’s blind rage, i try repeatedly tapping his arm to let go of me but the alcohol has clouded his sense of judgement.

A whistle is then heard behind the man. “Let go.”

I look up and it’s the same man i noticed sitting at the VIP booth, he holds a silver glock to creep’s head, his face undistinguishable. Moving to the man’s ear he whispers, “don’t make me have to tell you twice,” his accent thick and heavy.

The man instantly lets go of my face, clearly shaking at not only the presence of the foreign man but the gun to his head as well. I sit there in shock, my eyes flickering from man to man, frozen as to what’s going to happen next.

“Now you’re going to apologise to this pretty lady and leave this club, don’t let me see you again or i will kill you.” He states casually, before swiftly putting the man into a headlock, keeping the gun in the same position. “Trust me, i’ll make sure to do it slowly and painfully.” He holds him down harder before letting him go, the drunken man chokes out and wheezes before running out of the club side to side due to his incompetent state.

The foreign man now turns to me, a slight smirk on his face. “The names Armando. Drinks are on me.”

[kojitheopossum]

plz show more wof? plz? *gives adorable puppy eyes*

Here ya go anon o7

The premise is just what if the watchers were an animus dragon who randomly chose all the life series members to fight to the death (queen scarlet style)

Full assignment list under cut, i will defend most of these to the death

bdubs: mud

bigb: rain/night

etho: ice

gem: ice/sky

scar: night

grian: rain

impulse: night/sand

martyn: sand

lizzie: sea

mumbo: sky/sea

pearl: silk

ren: sky/mud

skizz: mud

scott: sea

joel: mud/leaf

jimmy: sand/sky

tango: sky

cleo: sea

[shogunish]

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼𝘀 & 𝗶. [𝟬𝟱]

synopsis. megumi believes that the greatest stroke of serendipity is his dad and you tucking him into bed.

words. 1.4k

warnings. none!

note. living off of gojo crumbs these days..life is not gojo-ing the way it used to gojo 😔💔

previous || next || masterlist

family tasted like honey. thick and sweet and easy to spread out, even though it was a pain to wipe the excess of it off the spoon.

megumi knew what honey tasted like, but it was too sweet for his tastes until the evening his dad tucked him into the sheets and the dim lights of the lamp dipped the room into golden hues. kuro and shiro were curled up at his little feet, keeping megumi warm and cozy like a cocoon of fur.

a teddy bear — one that satoru had won for him at a fair — was in megumi’s arms while he stared at his dad with eyes like that of a doe. innocent and pure, but a little sleepy around the edges. “where’s [name]?” megumi pouted, blinking his big eyes.

a look of surprise flashed across satoru’s features and yet..he wasn’t surprised at all. the kid was so attached to you, always wanting you in this little home and asking about your whereabouts. he had been devastated when satoru explained why you couldn’t come over because of your period and even wrote you a little card, wishing you a speedy recovery for your tummy aches.

“she’s washing the dishes, little man,” satoru explained calmly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “you need anything from her?”

a beat of silence. then, megumi nodded his head once slowly. “yeah. it’s important.”

affectionately, satoru ruffled a hand through megumi’s messy locks and chuckled like he always did: so carefree and easy-going. “fine. i’ll get her. wait a sec, yeah?”

megumi eagerly waited in his bed with his black eyes round as the moon and shimmering like the night sky just outside his window when his dad came back with you in tow. the mattress dipped underneath your weight and some more as satoru took a seat right next to you on the edge of his bed.

this was the picture megumi wanted to see for so, so long.

his papa being next to his mama, tucking him in and wishing him a good night.

“papa told me you wanted to see me?” you asked with a gentle smile sitting upon your lips, voice soft as silk and warm as..honey.

yeah, maybe honey wasn’t too bad if you were there.

the innocent words of a mere child got stuck in megumi’s throat. dark eyes darted about the room, plump cheeks reddened like ripe apples on a warm summer day and for some reason, his heart was pounding under his ribs. instead of hurrying him, you waited patiently for megumi to find his words that had gotten lost in his throat.

“can you tell me another story?” megumi mumbled into his precious teddy bear with the fancy bow wrapped around the neck.

ah, how sweet of a kid megumi was. you swore your heart melted like ice-cream in the sun and turned into nothing but a puddle.

“you tell him bedtime stories?” satoru inquired. lips pulled into a warm smirk, he couldn’t help but feel curious what his son and the cute babysitter were up to when he way away for work.

“i do,” you confirmed, “every evening, i tell him a story until he falls asleep.”

satoru chuckled. “you’re lucky, buddy. [name] never tells me stories when it’s bedtime for me.”

at that, megumi giggled. “papa’s jealous.”

was this what family was like?

to have mama and papa sitting on the edge of his bed, tucking him in and being so playful with each other? to go on walks together and have mama tend to his scraped knee while papa was busy scolding the stones megumi had slipped on?

megumi never wanted to let go of that feeling. ever. not even homework could ruin the warm, fuzzy feeling of honey in his tummy.

nonchalantly, you waved a hand in front of satoru’s face, brushing his feelings of so-called jealousy off. “anyways,” you said, “let’s see what tonight’s story will be..”

behind you, you could feel satoru pouting at the way you dismissed him like he was nothing but a fly on your shoulder and maybe he even whispered to megumi how cruel women could be, but you paid his antics no mind.

“ah.” your face lit up when you came up with a little story. “a long, long time ago, there lived a princess far away from home. all she wanted to be was a child, but her big bad brother forced her to become the wife of a king of a culture foreign to her. but despite her hardships, she wasn’t alone. you know why?"

a gasp fell from megumi’s lips; the kid was obviously hooked from the very moment you opened your mouth. “tell me! what happened to the princess? did a prince rescue her?” he asked, wanting to know all the details about the world you had made up in your head just for him.

shaking your head, you smiled and leaned in like megumi’s excitement was rubbing off on you. “even better. she was gifted three dragon eggs that would eventually hatch and bring magic back to the world…”

while the princess was starting to conquer the world with her dragons and make a name for herself, megumi fell asleep. his little eyes felt like lead and all that could be heard were his soft snores and an occasional sniffle. the teddy bear was still held tightly by megumi though. not even an apocalypse could rip the plushie from his hands, you and satoru thought.

“so dragons and princesses? that’s what you’ve been telling my son about?” satoru inquired once he closed the door behind megumi’s bedroom and it was just the two of you on his couch, watching the last scenes of some mediocre rom-com play out.

“so you are jealous,” giggling, you nudged satoru playfully before relaxing back into the soft cushions with a sigh making it past your lips.

it was a little moment of peace before you’d go back to your own home. the more you were with the gojos, the more you noticed that your four walls lacked some life. sure, a couple of plants lived on your shelves and on the window sill, but they weren’t a little kid asking for cookies right before lunch or dogs barking in their sleep or satoru who’d keep you company on the couch.

home was nice, but this..this was family. life.

“maybe a little bit,” satoru joked and stretched his arm along the backrest, so close to your shoulders. how badly he wanted to just pull you in and relive the moment you snoozed away on him, but he refrained from doing so.

like there was an invisible line he didn’t want to cross.

satoru blamed the rapid beating of his heart on the way you handled megumi. how couldn’t he feel a little attracted to you when you got along with his son so well? it was just the hormones, he wanted to tell himself but the budding feeling in the soil of his heart spoke otherwise.

it wouldn’t be long until that sprout would grow roots and bloom into something that would fill the cavern of his chest; lungs, arteries, heart and veins. all of it would be in full bloom.

while satoru could rip out the budding something like it was weed, he chose not to.

“you know, there is a little party that my company holds and i thought it’d be nice if you became my plus one,” satoru spoke in soft tones before settling his sky blue gaze on your surprised face. he could watch the cogs in your head processing his words and then– ah, it clicked.

“..are you sure? i don’t think i’d fit in well.” furrowing your eyebrows, you immediately thought about all those men in suits from brands you couldn’t even pronounce and their curled mustaches, their wives draped in diamonds and everything fine.

it was a world you didn’t belong to and yet..

“let that worry be mine,” satoru assured you with an easy shrug of his shoulders and a smile on his lips which was so easy on the eyes. “you’re the only person who could make that evening interesting and there’s free food.”

“i’m in.” you immediately agreed.

satoru blinked in surprise.

so all it took for you to accompany him was the promise of free food.

taglist. @torusmochi, @cinnamonmon, @risuola, @ayanominitrash, @lordbugs, @phoenix666stuff, @hotvinimon, @stevenknightmarc, @sukunasleftkneecap, @erigaur, @lu-lynds, @staryukis

[allfearstofallto]

Nice

Yandere childe x reader

1.7k

Synopsis: He'll buy you absolutely anything your heart desires, but he longs for you to describe things as more than just "nice"

TW: Yandere, abusive themes, bribery, NSFW themes, toxic relationship, Dub-Con

AN: I haven't written in FOREVER so forgive me if it's not awesome or if it feels incomplete. My last account got shadow banned :(, doesn't help that I was already pretty depressed before that. No time for sob stories here, it's been two years since I've written anything and I miss writing, thanks for joining me!

Gems that dazzled and gleamed stars in the night sky, silver that was carved painstakingly from the mines in Liyue, an appearance that was beautiful, but still kept up with the most current fashion trends. He had truly outdone himself with this one, this has to be the one that would take your breath away. The one that would make you leap into his arms and pepper his face with kisses from your sweet lips that he rarely got the chance to taste.

When it came to gifts for you, there was no price tag. Childe would spend every mora he had if it meant he could even get a smile out of you and spend he often did. Money meant nothing to him, being a Fatui harbinger, his paychecks were larger than he knew what to do with. After sending money back home to his family, he still had so much left and nothing that he longed for other than your affection. So, why not spend it on something else he cared about?

Your eyes ghosted over the ring he was showing you, encased in a black velvet box with red satin holding it up. It wasn’t an engagement ring, he’d assured you of that multiple times after you were taken aback by him holding it up to you. He knew you weren’t ready for that just yet, and he was willing to respect your wishes, but he still wanted to give you something to wear on that pretty little finger to show that you were his while you waited for the real deal. Your engagement ring would be much, much larger than the one he was gifting you now and it would incorporate details from both of your home countries.

The expression on your face was unreadable. It wasn’t quite a grimace, but it wasn’t a smile either. It was the usual face you made when you were given something. An equal mixture of discomfort and unease. “It’s…nice.” you mumbled quietly as he slipped the ring onto your finger.

There was that word again. Nice. It made him sick to his stomach every time he heard it fall from your pretty lips. But that was always what you said about his gifts, as if you couldn’t think of another word to describe how you felt about them. Rare spices imported from Sumeru? Nice. A custom hanfu made from only the finest silk to wear to the lantern rite? Nice. Wine aged for almost a decade and shipped straight from Mondstadt? Very nice.

You spoke that one word, but even then it felt like you were straining yourself to say that much. On multiple occasions, your displeasure with receiving such expressive gifts was expressed, but he told you that that didn’t matter. Mora was just an object to him, something that held no value, and yet you still held each gift as if they would collapse under your touch.

“You can tell me if you don’t like it,”

“No!” you quickly retorted back, holding your hand up to examine the ring once more, “Its…” you purse your lips to stop yourself from saying the word, knowing that he would only be upset with your lack of what he considered to be a proper answer, “I like it.”

With a sigh and a dramatic slump of his shoulders, he reached up and cupped your face. His hand felt like solid ice against your cheek. Childe often claimed that that was another thing he loved about you so much. How warm your body was in comparison to himself. He told you that when he someday took you to Snezhnaya to meet his family, you would be his personal heater, that he wouldn’t let you go for even a second during the duration of your stay there.

“You don’t even wear the earrings I got you anymore,” Childe’s long fingers traced from your cheek to the lobe of your ear, grazing the empty hole where jewelry would go.

“You know I can’t wear those at work,”

“Then quit your job,” He spoke those words so quickly, with no hesitation, a part of you was convinced you imagined it. But you working was a constant conflict of interest between the two of you, something you’d even argued about before.

The situation grew heated that day. Both of you, yelling back and forth about what you thought was right. You remembered seeing his eyes glow at the same time as his vision that rested on his hip, making your stomach drop. Childe would never hurt you, would he? But even you didn’t know the answer to that, you could never be too sure about what was going on in the mind of a harbinger. So you backed down slightly, telling him that it was something you would consider, and that answer sufficed with him for the time being.

“Childe-”

“Ajax,” he cut you off. He hated when you used his codename, claiming that as his future wife, you alone should be allowed to call him by his given name.

“Ajax," you exhaled harshly after speaking his name, "I really would like to work and be independent,”

For just the briefest of moments, his eyes went dull, his smile fell, his facade faltered and he was his true self. It only lasted for less than a second, the average person might not have even seen it, but you’d spent so much time with him. You knew his tells. You knew that even though he was smiling again, it was completely fake. He was angry, even if the gleam in his eyes didn't show it.

A cold kiss was pressed against your cheek, just a peck to get his point across. When he pulled away, still making eye contact, he was still so close that you could feel his shallow breath on your skin. He squatted down slightly to meet your eyes and whispered against your lips, “I don’t plan to let my wife work. Why don’t you quit now, have a little practice before we’re wed?”

He said that as a suggestion, but you knew it wasn’t one. With Childe there were only orders and threats, nothing in between. You had no choice on whether or not you’d get to work, on whether or not you got to live alone, on whether or not you married him. In his eyes, you were already his, and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

A lump was caught in your throat as you tried to figure out what to say. Could you even tell him that the prospect of marrying him was something that seldom crossed your mind? Something that even when you did think about, it brought a twinge of fear into your heart. That on multiple occasions, you considered leaving him, but your unease around him was what was making your stay.

“I…” you finally met his gaze as you tried to force words out of your tense body. His eyes felt so cold and the hand that he had managed to snake its way down onto your shoulder was gripping your flesh tightly. It was a warning that what you said next would matter, “I should just-”

“You should quit,” he spoke the last part of the sentence for you, not caring about what you truly wanted to say.

Eyes turned downcast, you gave a slow nod. There wasn’t much of a choice with him anymore, he was hellbent on that being your answer. He had given you an order, if you didn’t react the way he wanted you to, you would regret it.

The grip that was on your shoulder loosened, exhibiting that you had pleased him and another kiss was placed on your cheek as a reward. This time his lips touched just below your eyes, where tears were threatening to fall, “That’s my girl,” another peck right against your lips, “How about I buy you something special, huh? For being so good.”

You swallow slowly, trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him, clenching and unclenching your fist as a way to self soothe. Your voice was shaky as you delivered your stiff answer, “Sure. That sounds lovely.”

“How about a new pair of earrings,” he followed this up by lightly biting the side of your ear, “or maybe a new necklace,” you felt his warm tongue slide down from your ear to your collarbone, making all the hairs on your body stand up, “Or maybe even a new dress,” he spoke into your neck, his hand reaching down and trying to slide the dress you were wearing up your thigh, exposing your your bare skin to the air.

You jolted your body backwards, your hands placed against his chest in an attempt to keep the distance between the two of you. He was moving so fast. Too fast. Even though it had been a while since you and him had last been intimate, for him to try it again so suddenly was worrisome.

You didn’t dare look at his face. There was no doubt about it that he was upset at your response to his touch, he never liked when you rejected him. The hand that was placed against him, was taken into his. The way he held you was gentle, but you could still feel force behind his movement. The thumb of his hand traced the back of your palm as he held you, before lifting it up and placing a kiss against it. Right on your finger, right on the very expensive ring he’d just bought you, almost as a way to draw your attention to it once more.

“What’s gotten into you? Hm?” he had an eyebrow cocked and a grin on his face, “Pushing me away like that after I got you something so precious? You’re going to hurt my feelings.”

“I just don’t think I’m in the mood for this right now,” you mumbled, switching between looking at your dress you were fiddling with and his borderline unblinking eyes.

Silence fell over the two of you, to the point where you could hear your own heart beat, the sound of blood pumping in your ears, the sound of his breaths that were slightly heavier than normal. Childe was rarely quiet. It was hard to get him to keep his mouth shut. In a way his anger was scaled based on how loud he was, the quieter, the worse.

His large hand came into your sight again, making you flinch about what was coming ahead, but rather than being struck, he used his thumb to trace your lips, “Figure something out.”

[itsmiyamore]

— thief

"You're just a thief, who stole all my moves and used them on me." — inspired by Thief by Maisie Peters

a/n: it's my darling boy's birthday!!! I think I wrote this fic before even starting this blog, so this is a super duper secret from-the-vault work that I've been gatekeeping for years hehe, but I figured what better way to celebrate Oikawa's birthday than by finally sharing it with you all?! Most of it is still from the original version I wrote years ago, just with some slight revamping and editing (ty @dear-koi for beta reading!); I really mean it when I say this is my baby and I'm proud, I hope you all love her as much as I do! :)

Warning: reader is gender neutral, but Oikawa's other love interest is fem

-> this is not part of the @/ficsforgaza initiative, but please consider sponsoring another wip!

"Hey, pretty." Oikawa Tooru slides into the seat of the desk in front of you, facing you. He smiles softly, resting his chin on his hand. Your heart flutters at the nickname, forever unused to the delicate attention Oikawa so graciously bestows upon you.

"Hey, yourself," you say softly, admiring the way Oikawa's eyes perfectly catch the sunlight. The flecks in his eyes take the shape of a flower around his irises, and you think it's the prettiest bloom you've ever seen.

Oikawa shifts and you watch, entranced, as he caresses the side of your face. His hand grazes yours, softly tracing the back of it—like silk fluttering in the wind. He turns it, intertwining his fingers with yours.

The morning sun comes through the classroom window and warms your skin, but your entire body soars with his touch. There’s a hush in the world as Oikawa hums, playing with your hand, admiring the way your fingers interlock. He looks fascinated, and maybe even a bit surprised you're letting him fiddle with them, and your heart thumps with the way he looks at you with the utmost adoration.

Oikawa handles you like you're made of fragile porcelain, wrapping your heart in thick blankets. He has always been careful with everything he does, but the way he treats your heart is so delicate, so pure.

Oikawa is your first love, and so, your only love. He never says it, and you never force the topic, but he cares so deeply for you it shakes you to your core. Everyone can tell; they'd be stupid not to. "Love," is the word they whisper as you walk down the halls with him trailing after you. “Love," is what his friends tease when they think you're out of earshot. And Oikawa just smiles that smile he knows you love because you turn back to wave, thinking yes, Oikawa loves you.

There's a special spot on the beach you both like to go to.

The glassy waves reflect the golden sky and the rolling clouds—the gentle sounds filling your ears, mouth going numb from ice cream on teeth. The waves lap up the pier and you glance at Oikawa sitting next to you, whose eyes are locked onto the boats disappearing in the distance.

As the stars begin to twinkle, you shiver, and he gives you his jacket, muttering something under his breath as he zips it up. His eyebrows are furrowed and his nose scrunches up, and something about the gesture is so endearing that you can't help but laugh.

He glances up, startled at first, then a faint smile of amusement appears as he watches you giggle. Your breath hitches as he leans in, something else blooming in your chest as the tips of your noses meet and his forehead rests against yours, your senses overflowing with him.

He stays for a moment, and you wonder what would happen if you leaned in.

But he pulls away and you can't help but wrap your arms around yourself and shiver, feeling colder than ever.

You're naive, you think, as you watch your castle crumble like sand under the ocean's unforgiving waves. Your world is slipping through your fingers and you're grasping, but he's gone.

And you realize that you'd become spoiled on a love that was never really yours to begin with.

Oikawa met her where he met you: by the shore of the ocean (your spot that you shared with him), skipping stones—a prom queen and heartbreaker jeans, a romance just waiting to happen, adorned with something precious and real.

You hate it. You hate the way he writes over the memories of you—replaces them with a shinier, prettier version—with the girl he says he's in love with.

The girl he is in love with.

You're angry at Oikawa for giving you the illusion of being royalty, and you're bitter, resentful, and angry at yourself for building up your hopes. Sometimes you can't help but wish you had it in you to tear them apart—to fight for Oikawa and maybe get to keep him—but when it comes down to it, you just can’t. You're not mean.

You're just unfortunately, irrevocably, hopelessly in love.

He's happy; you can see it in the way he hums as he walks to class or smiles out of nowhere. He's happy, and it kills you because it's no longer because of you—was it ever because of you?—but you would rather have the crumbs of his affection than nothing at all. It works—at least a little bit—you whisper to yourself, tearing your gaze away. But you can't help but pity yourself and your lonely little heart that was too drunk on fantasies to realize they were never meant to be.

Sometimes, you wish you had told him as you watch him go, hand in hand with her—smiling at her like he did with you, caressing her face like he did with you. He never knew, or maybe he always did.

He leaves anyway, and it hurts all the same.

I miss you like mental, you think as you look out to where memory has taken you. The sunset is beautiful, glittering on the ocean's surface, blissfully unaware that something sacred has been brutally taken from you. It's a curse that your heart does not know how to let go.

You loathe it.

You walk onto the pier, shivering as you wrap your arms around yourself. You try to remember the weight of Oikawa's jacket around your shoulders, the warmth of his body as he pulled you close, his fingers intertwined with yours. There's so much you would give—you sigh as you pick up a stone, turning it over in your palm before tossing it, watching as it skips over the water. There's so much you would give to feel his love again; and you cross your heart, hope to die, that you won't go insane with the way you miss him.

But maybe you already have.

There must be a cure, you think, for all the lonely, pathetic people who spilled their hearts out to pretty thieves who changed their minds.

Oikawa loved you, and you have no one else to blame but yourself for thinking that meant he was in love with you.

No one to blame but yourself for believing his beautiful, silver-lined words and bewitching gestures—like a sailor, doomed from the start to follow the siren to your death. There’s nothing but leftover hopes and wishes piled up like meaningless dunes of sand inside you, and as they begin to spill out of your eyes, you decide you won't keep them for him anymore. 

"Goodbye," you whisper to the gentle waves, small ripples fading as the only remaining evidence of your heartbreak. A simple promise you make as you turn your back, swearing off all the places and things he made you love.

Maybe you'll be back one day. Maybe one day after you've stitched yourself up in a slow, clumsy way because you don’t have his delicate fingers to guide your own.

Maybe one day, when you're finally alright.

[vampyrris]

<3

levi waited as he patiently watched you bargain with a vendor for a silk scarf you fancied.

“but it’s such a small scarf!”

“it’s made from the finest silk, ma’am, imported from overseas.”

a small smile made its way to levi’s lips as he watched your face turn into a red tomato from frustration. you humphed loudly as you handed the bag of coins to the vendor and snatched the scarf from the stall.

he watched you with an amused expression as you wrapped the evidently small scarf around your neck and began to knot it. he could see your lips muttering words to yourself as you proudly walked back to him.

“that was real mature.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “don’t you patronize me, levi ackerman.”

levi huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head. “at least you entertained everyone around you including myself with your excellent bargaining skills.”

you humphed loudly again as you walked alongside him, your hand casually finding its place on the back of his chair as you moved forward. before you even got the chance to step ahead, headed to your next destination, levi maneuvered himself in front of you.

he levelled you with a calm stare.

“sit.”

you regarded him with a puzzled glance. “huh?”

levi moved himself closer to you, and patted his lap. “sit.”

you assessed him carefully. “i don’t want to hurt you”

he rolled his eyes. “you won’t hurt me. you’ve walked long enough, let me take us wherever it is we are going next.”

your eyes softened at his words, so you let out a small sigh before doing as he asked. you carefully put most of your weight on his good leg as you splayed your legs over the other.

levi’s hand came up to adjust your skirt that had ridden up a little, before going back to the joystick on the armrest. you looked at his solemn expression as he shuffled on the seat, making sure both of you were comfortable.

something twisted in your chest.

unable to help yourself, you leaned in, your lips brushing against the scars on his cheek as you planted a soft kiss.

“thank you. and just so you know, i never want you to feel like you somehow owe me something in exchange of me loving you.” you then kissed his lips. “i love you and i care about you so, so much.”

levi looked at you with an expression that made you want to embrace him tightly and never let him go, and never let harm come his way ever again.

he silently took your hand and brought it to his lips, his eyes falling shut as he kissed your knuckles gently.

wrapping your other arm around his shoulders, you leaned in to kiss him once more. “let’s go get those baked cinnamon thingies you love so much, and then take a stroll in the park.”

levi smiled and nodded, but not before correcting you that the baked cinnamon thingies were called cinnamon rolls.

the sky had turned into hues of lilacs, pinks and oranges by the time you and levi reached the park. in one hand you held your cinnamon roll, and with the other you fed levi his.

“mm, this is actually so good. why did i hate it again when i first tried it?” you moaned in delight through a mouthful of sweet goodness.

“because it wasn’t drowning in diabetes. you’re gonna get sick.” levi remarked, eyeing the bun in your hand as he navigated you both through the wide expanse of the green and flowery park.

your cinnamon roll was oozing with an unhealthy amount of the creamy icing, but you couldn’t care less.

levi opened his mouth for another bite. you lifted the bun to his mouth, but just as he was about to bite into it, you pulled it out of reach with a giggle.

a burst of laugh escaped you when levi shot you an annoyed look, daring you to test him again.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. here you go,” you lifted it to his mouth—only to pull it away again, breaking into another fit of laughter.

“i’m gonna throw you off my lap.” levi muttered.

you let out a dramatic gasp as you held the roll to his mouth again. “don’t make fun of me because i like sugar, you turd.”

“you mean diabe—mmf!”

you shoved the bun into his mouth. his eyes widened in shock while you grinned foolishly at his look of despair.

he began chewing angrily, as he whipped out his white kerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped at the corners of his lips.

“i can’t believe you manage to look this adorable even when you’re mad. oh my god,” you kissed his cheek, puffed and stuffed from the big bite thanks to your assault of the cinnamon roll.

you went to kiss him again, but he dodged it, your puckered lips meeting nothing but the air.

you huffed in frustration half-heartedly. “i’m sorry, i won’t do it again. promise.”

he grumbled under his breath. only then did you notice a remaining crumb of the bun still lingering on his chin. using your finger, you caught it and put it in your mouth.

levi’s cheeks turned pink at that.

you smiled as you leaned your head against his and began finishing the rest of your rolls.

fortunately enough, you were strolling closely near the flower bushes. you seized the opportunity and plucked a handful of hydrangeas.

“relax,” levi muttered.

you pouted as you dropped the flowers on your lap. “why do you sound so mad at me.”

you picked one and placed it behind levi’s ear. “i’m sorry for making you choke on a cinnamon roll. i love you.” you pouted again, looking at him with puppy dog eyes.

levi shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips, before absentmindedly placing something in your hair.

you scrunched your brows, immediately plucking it out.

it was a red rose. a loud gasp escaped your lips. “where did you get this?”

levi only rolled his eyes. “while you were too busy bullying me, we passed rose bushes.”

you sputtered dramatically. “excuse you, i was loving you!”

his lips quirked to one side at that. he placed another red rose in your hair.

“that one has a lot of thorns.” he warned, as he reached up and tucked a loose strand of your hair.

you brought the rose to your nose and inhaled the familiar scent. “i’m sorry for bullying you.” you said, your head falling against his chest.

his arm snaked around your waist and squeezed your side.

“you can make it up to me, when we get home.” he whispered, his warm breath fanning your temple.

you looked up at him, your hand going around his torso. “i shall, mr. ackerman.”

he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a while.

“i love you, mrs. ackerman, bullying and all.”

you bit your lip to contain your huge smile as you looked at him.

“take us home, please. i’ve got a little surprise for my dear husband.”

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Jingliu

[doumadono]

Warnings: smut w/o plot, cowgirl, oral (m receiving), blindfolds and handcuffs, creampie, fem!reader, established relationship

Synopsis: you have a little idea of how to celebrate Itto's birthday in a steamy way

GENSHIN IMPACT

The night was warm and fragrant, the breeze carrying the scent of cherry blossoms through the open window. The stars glittered like a thousand diamonds scattered across a velvet sky, and the moon bathed everything in a silvery glow. Tonight was special – it was Arataki’s birthday, and you had planned an unforgettable surprise for him.

You glanced around the room one last time, ensuring everything was perfect. Soft candlelight flickered across the walls, casting a golden hue over the intimate setting. The bed was adorned with rose petals, and a bottle of his favorite sake chilled in a bucket of ice on the nightstand. The anticipation was almost palpable, and you could feel your heart racing with excitement.

The silk robe you wore clung to your curves, teasingly translucent, hinting at the lace lingerie beneath. You could feel the pulse of excitement quickening your breath, the anticipation of his reaction making your heart race.

Finally, the door creaked open, and there he was. His eyes immediately locked onto you, widening with surprise and darkening with desire as he took in the sight. His breath hitched, and for a moment, he seemed frozen in place, captivated by your allure.

“Happy birthday, Itto,” you purred, your voice a seductive whisper. You sauntered towards him, each step measured, every movement designed to tantalize.

“It’s already the best birthday ever,” he murmured, his gaze raking over you hungrily. His hands reached out, almost hesitant, as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

You smiled, a slow, sultry curve of your lips. “It’s about to get even better,” you promised, taking his hand and guiding him towards the bed. 

You pushed him gently onto the bed, straddling his lap. 

His hands immediately found your hips, gripping you with a possessive need. “You look incredible,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear. “I’ve got a lot planned for you tonight,” you whispered, your breath hot against his skin. “And it starts with this.”

With a deft movement, you untied the sash of your robe, letting it slide off your shoulders and pool around your waist. 

His eyes widened, his hands tightening on your hips as he took in the sight of you in the sheer, lacy lingerie. “Dear archons, you’re beautiful,” he groaned, his voice rough. He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a fierce, passionate kiss. His tongue swept into your mouth, tasting, claiming, leaving you breathless.

You broke the kiss, your lips trailing down his jaw to his neck. “Just relax,” you murmured, your hands roaming over his broad chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. “Let me take care of you.”

His eyes darkened further, a primal hunger in their depths. “You’re driving me crazy, Y/N,” he muttered, his hands sliding under your lingerie to grasp your bare skin.

“That’s the idea,” you teased, sliding off his lap to kneel between his legs. You unbuttoned his shirt with deliberate slowness, savoring the way his breath hitched with every touch. When you finally pushed the fabric off his shoulders, you leaned in, pressing soft, lingering kisses to his chest.

He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair as you kissed and licked your way down his chest, each touch eliciting a shiver of anticipation. You could feel his cock straining against his pants. Taking your time, you savored every reaction, every shudder and moan. With a deliberate slowness, you unbuttoned his pants, sliding them down just enough to free his rock hard cock. The sight of his shaft made your mouth water. You glanced up at him through your lashes, your lips curving into a seductive smile. Slowly, you leant in to take him into your mouth.

His reaction was immediate and intense. “Fuck,” he whispered through parted lips, his hips bucked, a guttural moan escaping his lips as you enveloped him with the warm, wet heat of your mouth. 

You worked him with slow, deliberate strokes, each movement designed to drive him wild. Hollowing your cheeks, you swirled your tongue around the mushroom head of his cock, tasting the salty essence of his precum and drawing more desperate sounds from deep within him.

Every groan, every quiver, spurred you on, the pleasure of his reactions sending a thrill through you. You increased the intensity, taking him deeper, your hands gently massaging and teasing his balls as you rubbed the underside of his shaft with your flexed tongue. 

Itto’s grip in your hair tightened, his breathing becoming ragged as he struggled to hold back. “Gods, you’re amazing, doll,” he gasped, his voice a raw, desperate plea. “Don’t stop.”

You had no intention of stopping. You continued your assault, feeling his dick pulse and throb against your tongue. The taste, the scent, the feel of him overwhelmed your senses, and you knew he was close as well. You were taking his tip all the way into your throat until you coughed and gagged on his shaft.

“Fuck,” he grunted, running the tip of his tongue along his lower lip as it went incredibly dry. Arataki could feel his testicles churning as if they wanted to send a hot load up his throbbing shaft already and down your throat into your tummy.

You slid him out slowly, your soft, moist tongue caressing every inch of his thick shaft as you pulled back just far enough to catch your breath. Then, with a fierce determination, you took him in your mouth again, even deeper this time, the intensity causing you to gag slightly, your body reacting with an involuntary shudder. Your top lip gripped the shaft firmly as you bobbed your head back and forth, sucking hardly.

Finally, he shattered, a powerful release that left him trembling and moaning your name as he spilled his seed over your tongue. 

You savored every moment, every drop of his cum, drawing out his pleasure until he was utterly spent. 

Slowly, you pulled back, licking your lips off his semen as you looked up at him, your eyes sparkling with satisfaction. Then, you disentangled yourself from his embrace, earning a sleepy murmur of protest from him.

“Wait… Where are you going?” Itto asked, his voice husky with lingering desire as he took his dick in his hand, jerking it slowly, spreading all of the remnants of your spit all over his shaft.

“Just a little surprise,” you replied with a teasing smile, slipping off the bed. “Stay right there.”

His eyes followed you with a mix of curiosity and anticipation as you crossed the room to retrieve a small, intricately wrapped box from the dresser. You returned to the bed, kneeling beside him and holding the box out.

He sat up, taking the box from your hands. Arataki carefully unwrapped the gift, revealing a sleek, black silk blindfold and a set of silver cuffs lined with soft velvet. He looked up at you, his eyes darkening with a mixture of surprise and excitement. “So that’s how you wanna play, doll?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

“A little something to make tonight even more interesting,” you replied, leaning in to kiss him softly. “Do you trust me?”

“Always,” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and inviting as he grunted lowly upon tasting his own cum on your tongue.

With a smile, you took the blindfold from his hands and tied it gently over his eyes. You then took his wrists, guiding him to lie back against the pillows as you secured the cuffs around them, attaching them to the headboard. 

He tested them lightly, a soft growl of anticipation escaping his lips.

You slowly stood up on your knees, letting your lingerie slide off your body, revealing yourself fully to him. You straddled his hips, your hands trailing over his chest. "Can you feel how much I want you?" you whispered, your voice laced with desire as you ground your slick pussy against his cock. You reached down, taking his hardened length in your hand, lining him up with your entrance. With agonizing slowness, you began to sink down onto his cock, your body enveloping him inch by inch. The sensation was intense, a delicious mix of pleasure and pressure as he filled your pussy completely. 

You both moaned in unison.

You paused, letting him feel every part of you, your breath hot against his skin as you leant forward to lick the stripe over the pulsepoint on his neck. Then you began to move, setting a slow, teasing rhythm, your hips rolling as you let his cock slip deeper into your slick hole. 

His reactions spurred you on, the blindfold amplifying his every sensation, every gasp and groan of pleasure.

"Do you like this, Itto?" you whispered, leaning forward to kiss his neck, your voice a sultry purr as you rolled your hips, letting the tip of his cock hit all of the sweet spots inside you.

"Yes," he groaned, his voice strained. "I love it. I love you."

You smiled, increasing your pace. Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the muscles tense and relax beneath your touch. The pleasure was mounting, a fiery heat spreading through your body as you rode his cock with increasing intensity. You were riding him like a racehorse now.

Every movement brought you closer to the edge, his moans and the sound of your bodies slapping together driving you wild. You leaned back, putting your hands to his ankles and changing the angle, and felt him hit a spot deep inside you that made you cry out in pleasure. "Oh, Itto," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "I'm so close." Itto’s dick felt like steel, and as you humped him, you made sure to direct it to all the right spots inside of your pussy.

"Come for me," he urged, his voice a low growl as he pulled at the cuffs. "Fuck, I need you to cum for me.”

His words pushed you over the edge. The orgasm crashed over you, a wave of pure ecstasy that left you trembling and gasping. Your movements became erratic, the pleasure overwhelming as you rode out your release. You grabbed his shoulders and dug your nails into them as you shivered all over your body. “Oh, fuck!”

Itto followed moments later, his own climax a powerful surge that left you both breathless as with a loud grunt he came deep inside of you. His cock pumped the contents of his balls into your tight pussy, making you take it as you had so many times before.

You squeezed his cock in your tiny vagina and gave him a few long humps up and down the shaft of his dick to milk every drop of cum out of him. You then pulled yourself off of his shrinking dick, gasping for air. You collapsed onto his chest, your bodies slick with sweat, your heartbeats slowly returning to normal.

For a long moment, you lay there together, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You reached up, gently removing the blindfold and uncuffing his wrists. 

He pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a tender, lingering kiss.

"Happy birthday once again, Itto," you whispered against his lips, your voice filled with love and satisfaction.

"Best birthday ever," he murmured, holding you tight. 

And as the night continued, you knew that this was just the beginning of an unforgettable celebration.

[periwinklemoonlight]

little sunshine ⋆ boatem knights au

my second short story set in bee @applestruda 's boatem knights au and canon to the plot written by zera @hopepetal !! also make sure to check out bee's bkau gem and etho designs <3 !

cw: decapitation, murder, blood

if you prefer, you can read it on ao3!

⋆⋆⋆

“-And you’re sure this is the man responsible?” The room was spacious, more than big enough for hundreds to fit in, yet the tension in the air filled it with an undeniably claustrophobic atmosphere. Precious artefacts lined the walls and occupied the floors, meticulously positioned in a perfect pattern to suit the path of a would-be museum goer. Now, however, one was missing. And only the most ancient and irreplaceable of the lot, of course.

“Completely.” An odd chill ran up the spine of the curator as she spoke. It shouldn’t have been possible, she thought, she had barely taken her eyes off of that corner of the room for a second before the amulet had vanished into thin air. All she had caught a glimpse of in the aftermath, she was sure of, was a man with stark white hair and a mask darker than the deepest night sky, fleeing the scene with a swiftness she could only ascribe to a seasoned thief.

She had only ever seen that man once before, yet something in her gut was absolutely sure it was him. A few years back, she had stayed at an inn just out of town on a business trip. Her stay had been all-around pleasant, the owner undoubtedly a delight to talk to, full of cheerful stories and helpful advice for travel. The same couldn't've been said for their companion, however. 

He had brooded in the corner of the inn, shooting her occasional unreadable glances as she conversed with the owner, any emotion beyond ice cold eyes concealed by a mask of blackest night. His back to the wall, practically blending in with the shadows around him, she had nearly cancelled her stay the minute she spotted him. 

The only thing that had convinced her to stay despite her better judgement was the owner’s utmost insistence that that man was nothing to fear, that she’d be completely and utterly safe at the inn. Something in their tone had been so, so earnest, she couldn’t help but be inclined to believe them. They were right, she had been entirely safe after all, yet she never could quite shake the cold chill that permeated her body every time the man passed her by. 

“Then it seems we’ve got a bounty on our hands.” The guard concluded with a severe nod.

“Bounty, you say?” A cheery voice asked from across the room. The curator whipped her head around to watch as polished hooves clicked onto the museum flooring. 

“How did you-?” The curator asked, before cutting herself off to fully take in the person before her. There stood Gemini Tay, adorned in finely crafted emerald silks and lightweight armour, wild red hair expertly contained in a sweeping braid, and absolutely armed to the teeth in various weapons hanging lazily across her waist. It wasn’t a bad look for the most notorious bounty hunter in the land, all things considered.

“Word gets around,” Gem replied with a grin, absentmindedly twirling an intricately carved knife in her hand as she approached. “And I’m always down to lend a helping hand!”

She paused, then eyed the curator’s own ostentatious outfit. “...For a fair price, of course.”

“Of course,” The curator repeated, a keen smile worming its way to her face. 

⋆⋆⋆

If there was one thing she relished in being known for, it was that once she had her target in her sights, Gem wasted no time.

It wasn’t hard to spot him, after all. The description the curator had given her was one of the most interesting she’d gotten in a while. A man known only as “Etho”, with a harsh red scar blinding him in one eye and never once seen without a dark mask obscuring half his face. During her journey, Gem had learned that nobody in the area could quite recall when he’d started working at the inn, or even if he actually worked there at all. In fact, it was a popular local rumour that the man was simply a vagrant that the kind innkeeper had taken pity on during one particularly frigid winter and never thought to kick out afterwards.

Regardless of whatever his backstory might have been, Gem couldn’t really care less. All she really cared to know about him was that he was the only thing standing between her and a ludicrously lavish payout. 

It was only a lucky coincidence that the innkeeper wasn’t in when she arrived. There was her target, standing far too nonchalantly behind the counter and looking as if he was preparing to greet her. She wasn’t about to give him the chance. Instantly she swung at him, hard and fast, looking to get a clean kill. To her astonishment, however, he suddenly disappeared within a blink of an eye, reappearing once more just as fast and now on top of the counter. Gem watched as a dark, smoky substance wafted off him as he jumped down and dissipated as quickly as it appeared. 

When she looked at Etho now, it was as if he were slightly transparent, blurred at the edges. She blinked, and he was whole again, no trace of anything amiss. She growled and swung again with impossible force, heaving as her sword broke the floorboards where it landed. Again, she could have sworn that some dark substance was following him, aiding him in his escape. 

“Hey, hey! I don’t know what I did but, uh, I’m sure we can settle this some other way?” Etho offered as he slid backwards on the wooden floors like they were an ice rink, smoke trailing off him and weaving through the air. 

“No can do sir!” Gem replied as she swung once more, again missing him by a fraction of a centimetre. “You got a hefty bounty on your head, and I intend to take it!”

The fight escalated with Gem’s frustration. She spun herself around and leaped at Etho, sword high in the air and aiming to plunge it deep into his skull. Instead, she hit the inn’s counter, splitting the wood and knocking several small objects astray. Her hooves skidded against the floor as she reeled backwards, and wasted no time forcefully wrenching her sword free. 

Wood chippings now scattered across the floor, Gem paid them no mind in her pursuit. The action seemed to distract Etho somewhat, discontent flashing across his heterochromatic eyes, and she took the opportunity to strike. 

Finally, with a lucky stab, she managed to pin him down against the inn’s wall, plunging her sword into his shoulder with a devastating crack and watching as what must have been blood seeped out from it. He gasped, eyes darting to the wound. A wild grin found its way to Gem’s face.

“You’re a tricky one, aren’t you?” She asked, using the moment to catch her breath before unsheathing a second, smaller sword from around her waist. The sharp blade glinted in the deep, warm light of the inn. The reflection didn’t make it to Etho’s eyes. “Shame I’m gonna have to take you out like all the rest of ‘em. I’ll make it quick, though. You’ve earned it.”

It was odd, she thought briefly. Despite the sword driven straight through him, he didn’t appear to actually really care about it all that much. His breathing was as steady as ever, and he barely moved at all beside a futile effort to scoot away from her intense gaze. His eyes were calm, watching her every move in something almost akin to silent fascination rather than the fear she had grown accustomed to. No matter, though, Gem decided as she made clean work of him, lopping off his head in a single swing. 

It fell to the ground with a solid thunk, rolling slightly before making its stop like any old head should. A tenseness she didn’t know she was holding finally released, and she breathed again. Blood was splattered all over the inn’s floors, and she grit her teeth as she imagined the cut from her paycheck she’d have to give the keeper to get it cleaned. All this for some measly priceless artefact? Still, it was over. 

She picked up his head by the hair, and stepped back in shock as she felt just how cold it was. Instantly, it called to mind the way it felt to grab a fistful of snow with no gloves for the first time, fingertips fully immersed in the unadulterated icy chill. For a brief moment, it reminded her of… home. Gem had never considered herself the squeamish type, especially not with an occupation such as hers, but the realization gripping hold of her in that split second was enough to make her gag.

Her grip on his hair loosened for a second, but she caught herself before the head could drop. On a second examination, she noticed what looked like snowflakes scattered in his white hair and decorating his long eyelashes. It was then she finally heard the faint crackling sound that had been slowly spreading around her. The blood that had been flowing freely from Etho’s body was freezing up, and fast.

Gem could do nothing but watch in horror as the blood on the walls and floor turned to thick ice, cracking and shattering into pieces around her as soon as it solidified. Within no time it had spread to his severed head, and she gasped as the blood that still dripped from his neck froze midair and fell to the floor, fragmenting into dozens of tiny pieces. 

She broke her gaze from the head in her hands just long enough to witness a mountain of ice emerge from what remained of his body’s neck, accompanied by a low hissing noise that made her stomach churn. Gem realized then the shape that it was forming. Fractals of ice packed in and around each other, working in tandem to sculpt out a new head identical to the one in her hands. The only difference being, there was nothing to cover the lower half of his face. If she could even call that half a face.

Once the hissing had stopped, that same dark substance she had seen swirl around him in their fight began to seep out from the wound, covering the newly formed head in a thin black layer and obscuring his features. Her heart dropped as she watched the shadowy liquid be absorbed into the ice, revealing a brand new head on Etho’s shoulders, indistinguishable from the first and complete with a new mask. His eyes fluttered open. 

“That wasn’t very nice of you, now was it?” Etho asked as he turned his head to look over at her, an amused smile painting his voice. Gem screamed.

⋆⋆⋆

Gem had never fainted before. With the amount of blood and guts she spilled with a smile on a daily basis, she hadn’t thought it was even possible for someone like her. Evidently, though, everyone had their limits. 

More confusingly, though, was that she had awoken tucked nice and neatly in a warm bed, with at least a dozen pillows cushioning her head and antlers. With a slight turn of her head, she could see a still-warm cup of cocoa resting on the table next to her and causing a sweet scent to waft through the little room she now found herself in. 

She groaned, sitting herself up in the bed and trailing her hand up her forehead, where she could feel a piece of gauze sticking out. Another glance around her surroundings revealed that her weapons were nowhere to be seen. Gem cursed under her breath. 

Her eyes darted around the room. It was quaint, with wooden walls and flooring and a decorative carpet in the center. Faint light streamed in through a window, accompanied by the warm glow of a candle. Must be early morning, she thought. 

Oddly though, the corner across from her seemed to be completely wrapped in shadow, defying the soft sunlight that should have illuminated it. Gem found herself unable to tear her trembling eyes away as the shadowy corner suddenly warped in her vision, the dark matter collecting and solidifying together as a familiar figure materialized before her. 

Etho drifted nonchalantly towards her, stopping by the table to eye the mug, something almost disappointed flashing in his expression as he noticed it hadn’t been touched. Gem faintly spotted a stitch in the shoulder of his tunic. He turned his attention to her.

“How’re ya’ holding up?" He asked, his tone both concerned and casual at once. “You took a pretty nasty fall back there! Never seen anything like it, it was crazy.” A small laugh punctuated his last sentence.

She blinked, then blinked again, but found herself unable to erase the image of what she had just seen from behind her eyes. It was the kick she needed to jog her memory though, and she leaped backwards away from him, nearly hitting her head on the wall behind her. 

“You… What in void’s name are you!?” She squawked. Etho furrowed his frosted eyebrows quizzically. 

“Well, I was hoping maybe you’d be a little bit more appreciative of the setup you’ve got going on here. I even made you a hot cocoa! Iskall told me you guys love that stuff!” There was something genuine in his voice that made Gem calm somewhat, even if his words only added to her bewilderment. She turned back to look at the mug, and slowly reached a hand out to grab it.

Pulling it close to her chest, she spoke, “You made this? For me? Why? I tried to kill you! I did kill you! At least, I think? I’m… still not entirely sure what happened back there.” She stared down into the mug, feeling a weird sense of shame bubble through her. Having the man she’d killed standing right there in front of her, it felt like talking to a ghost. The bounty hunter wasn’t used to having to think about the aftermath of her career beyond what minor property damage could ensue from a struggle, nevermind like this. Her grip on the handle tightened.

“What, this old thing?” Etho asked with another laugh, pulling up his own severed head from the ground next to Gem’s bed. “I left it here for you, since you seemed to really be after it. Figured it could make a nice souvenir from your stay here, you know?” Etho seemed to pick up from Gem’s appalled expression that she did not, in fact, know. 

“Okay, okay, uh, well, you can take it with you when you leave if you want.” A pause. “This… is what you’re after, right?” Gem could make out tiny frozen droplets still connected to the head’s neck, suspended in time and ice. Momentarily, she considered being alarmed at the notion that she’d been sleeping soundly next to a severed head, or grilling him on why exactly he thought putting said head in her room was a normal thing to do in the slightest. The thumping pain rattling around in her skull made the decision for her.

“Partially,” she replied curtly, evidently still attempting to win her staring contest with the mug. Finally, she broke the one-sided tension, and dared to take a small sip. 

It tasted… cold? No, that wasn't right. The liquid was sweet, if a little watery, and at a comfortably warm temperature. It was more as if the ethos of the mug itself refused to be hot. Like it had reluctantly taken to the liquid, yet refused to be any more than a temporary vessel for its warmth. Or, perhaps even more strangely, as if the liquid itself wasn't quite sure it knew how to be warm. 

Despite Gem’s own lukewarm reaction, Etho lit up. 

“Do you like it?” he asked, his normally chill and steady voice brightening with excitement. An amused look found its way to Gem’s face at the sudden change. 

“It’s nice,” she replied simply. She took another sip, then paused to close her eyes. She swore she could hear a triumphant noise from beside her as she tried to calm her searing nerves. Having the head as proof was good, sure, but the curator had expected — and promised payment for — much more. Gem needed that artefact back. She turned back to face him.

“To be honest, Etho,” She began, “Your head’s not all I’m here for. You don’t just get a bounty on your head for nothing, you know. I’m also here to retrieve that artefact you stole.” 

Etho blinked. “The what?”

Now it was Gem’s turn to furrow her brow. 

“You know. The amulet of the ancient Sun people? The last surviving of its kind? You took it from a museum just a few days ago.” She tilted her head, not even trying to hide her bafflement. Etho squinted at her. He tapped his fingers on the nightstand beside him thoughtfully.

“Ancient amulet… ancient amulet…” He mused. “Oh! Is that what that shiny gold necklace was? It was just lying around on a shelf at that ‘museum’ place Iskall took me to! I don’t know why nobody else thought to take it, to be honest. Here, check it out!” He tugged at something unseen underneath his mask for a minute, before producing the very artefact Gem had been seeking. He handed it to her casually as her shaky hands returned the mug to its nightstand. 

“You’ve been wearing it this whole time!?” She exclaimed, yelping when the item made contact with her skin and reeling backwards at the sudden burst of heat running through her fingertips. 

“Ah, yeah.” He didn’t appear too upset at its departure, though Gem couldn't help but notice his lively attitude had faded somewhat. She brushed her thumb over the deep amber pendant, briefly fascinated by the perpetual heat emanating off of it. 

“It’s neat, right? I’ve never seen a necklace like it. I wasn’t planning on taking it, at first, but I really wanted to figure out why it made my fingers melt like that.”

“You really are something,” Gem muttered. “But, I’m afraid I’ll have to take this back. A job’s a job.”

He gave her a nod. “Yep, yep, fine by me. Is that all you need?”

“Oh, I have one more thing, actually,” Gem replied, tucking the amulet away safely.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I want my weapons back.”

⋆⋆⋆

The curator grinned and clasped her hands together as she spotted Gem, a full-looking satchel and small brown bag now decorating her waist alongside her clanking swords and knives. The bounty hunter approached her desk with a matching smile, untying the smaller bag and placing it before the curator.

“I see you’ve returned! Remarkably fast as well. This is?”

“The amulet, back safe and sound without a scratch. Very pretty, might I add. Anyone would be able to see why it’s the prized jewel of your exhibit. And why a rotten thief would want to take it.” Gem placed the satchel next to it.

“And this…?”

“That deplorable thief’s head, just as you asked. I can assure you, he won’t be any more trouble for you now.”

“Excellent. Then, I believe you are deserving of your reward.”

“Yes,” Gem repeated. “Excellent.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hiii I know you’ve talked about Lilia and Silver’s relationship before but how about Lilia and Malleus’s? He’s one of Lilia’s “sons” too, the first! I’d like to hear how you see their father-son relationship.

cbjsbsjwjskdn So strange!! I feel like I haven’t really talked much about Lilia and Malleus’s father-son relationship even though I’m such a sucker for family-related drama… Well, now is as good of a time as any!

***Please note: there are spoilers for 7-68+ in the main story; if you are comfortable with late book 7 spoilers, then please proceed with reading below the cut!***

Book 7 has made it pretty evident that Malleus thinks the world of Lilia and is willing to go to great lengths to protect him. Their bond is something that has been alluded to many times over prior to this point though!

Malleus has mentioned that Lilia trained him when he was younger. He did have formal tutors, but it was Lilia who instilled survival skills in him and taught him lessons unable to be learned through just a textbook. We get to observe one such scene via a flashback, which shows the aftermath of one of Malleus’s fits. The castle and various staff members were encased in ice, and along comes Lilia to fix things. He offers Malleus a bowl of shaved ice and invites him to eat with everyone (as the cause for his anger in the first place had been that his grandmother was busy with her duties and could no longer make time to each with him as promised). Lilia reminds Malleus that someone like him has great powers, so he has to wield it responsibly—otherwise he could have lost many of the people he is now sharing this snack with. (This is a very valid lesson since Malleus was capable of magic—and thus harming others—right out of the eggshell; he once singed Lilia’s hair with his flames.)

Malleus reports that Lilia has cut his hair for him (despite Malleus probably being able to go to a formal expert or the court’s hairdresser). Lilia has also sung to him at night and even taught Malleus how to play instruments.

It’s not clear to what extent Lilia was involved in his liege’s life, because even though he is established as a caretaker to Malleus, it was also revealed that Lilia was apparently banished from the capital city so they’d have to arrange to meet elsewhere. It’s known that Malleus would sometimes visit Lilia and baby Silver in their forest cottage, but again the frequency of these visits is unknown (Did he, like his headstrong mother, sneak out against the wishes of the senators?) I’d imagine that Malleus is kept fairly busy with studies to prepare him to ascend to the throne, but from the way Lilia describes raising Malleus, it sounds like he was with him quite frequently: “I always know exactly where he is. After all, I have been watching him since he was brushing eggshell off of his head.”

To this day, Lilia serves a similar guiding role, often acting as the facilitator between Malleus and his peers, as well as continuing to be a mentor to him. Malleus maintains his standoffish and difficult to approach aura at NRC, so it is Lilia who encourages him to engage with his peers. He delivers a holiday card to Malleus’s new friend who has taken up residence in Ramshackle. He invites Malleus as his plus one to Silk City in A Firelit Sky, wishing for him to see more of the world—even when disaster strikes and Lilia cannot accompany him. He extols the virtues of understanding and bonding with other races both in the main story (book 6) and in vignettes (Malleus’s Dorm Uniform). He gives Malleus a formal invitation to his farewell party (like, envelope and all!), because he knows just how much that would mean to him. Lilia has seen how a country looks when it has been ravaged by war and hate. He knows how a heart can grow bitter and resentful if left to fester in isolation. So he works his ass off to try and ensure that Malleus, the future of his country, can lead it to an era of peace and love that Lilia only got to experience with the passage of time. It could also be said that Lilia places a big emphasis on Malleus as their “future” since Lilia already suffered the loss of two close friends, Malleus’s parents.

Lilia seems to think of Malleus as a capable leader and one of great character, though perhaps marked with inexperience and a lack of worldly knowledge (which is why he pushes for Malleus to go out of his comfort zone). Most notably, he tells Leona in book 2: “[… ] with that sensitive ego of yours? That so quickly directs all your petty anger at your retainers... Well, the idea of you ever contending with a REAL king like our Malleus—is absolutely laughable. Even if you COULD defeat Malleus, so long as that's how you choose to conduct yourself? You would never be fit to rule!”

At times, Lilia has the habit of treating Malleus like a child. Something he does a lot is reassure his prince that it is okay to feel a certain way (usually frustrated or angry) and that Malleus is not capable of hiding the truth from his keen eyes. Lilia usually encourages Malleus to be more honest with his emotions and to take the chance to act like the child he is and enjoy his school life. Malleus tends to not take to the former very well, reminding Lilia that he is not a child and that he understands the circumstances. Despite these claims, he to hold Lilia in high regard and trusts him a great deal. Lilia currently occupies his vice dorm leader seat, which is implied to be handpicked by the dorm leader. Furthermore, Malleus trusts Lilia to fulfill the dorm leader duties that he is not capable of or able to, as we see Lilia attending dorm leader meetings and leading the Diasomnia freshmen during orientation.

Lilia is a more lax than Sebek and Silver when it comes to monitoring Malleus. He is of the belief that their prince needs his own independence and to experience life without people constantly breathing down his neck. Malleus, as we know, enjoys solitude like his midnight strolls throughout campus. In Leona’s Union Jacket vignettes, he also discusses the freedom of going out in public without an encourage accompanying him. Lilia is able to easily read and understand Malleus’s feelings in this regard (though he is good at reading all of the Diasomnia boys).

Malleus still cherishes the virtual pet that Lilia gifted him years ago. He takes care of it diligently, even though he is constantly faced with the cycle of Gao-Gao Dragon-kun/Roaring Draco growing up and leaving the nest. According to Malleus’s Labwear vignettes, he considers the virtual pet one of his most important treasures.

The two are able to pal around with each other despite holding the other in such high regard. When Malleus and Lilia are placed on opposite teams for Beans Day, they find fun in roughhousing and relish in the challenge (not really paying attention to the fact that their sheer power and speed is on a whole different level than that of the other students). They also served as co-conspirators in Endless Halloween Night, something which upset the other students and they both apologized for. Mischief isn’t entirely off the plate for this duo!

Malleus grew up without his parents (and his grandmother often kept away by her royal duties), so it’s possible that he latched onto Lilia as a parental figure. He is shown to be protective of Lilia both in vignettes and in the main story. For example, in Lilia’s PE Uniform vignette, Rook is chatting with Lilia and indicates that he is interested in Lilia as his hunting quarry—but Malleus throws the ball meant for long throwing at Rook, just narrowly missing his nose. “Perhaps he suspected that you were picking on little old me,” Lilia suggests. However, the example I’m sure we’re all familiar with of Malleus being protective of Lilia is book 7… when he decides it would be better you force everyone to have happy dreams instead of accepting a reality that changes and forces you to say good-bye to your loved ones. Malleus explicitly states that he is taking these actions so he “doesn’t lose [Lilia]”. Indeed, it is Lilia deciding to drop out of NRC and retire to the Land of Crimson Long that was the impetus for Malleus’s blot to kick into overdrive. When Lilia “wakes” from the dream, Malleus is eager to keep him in it. He offers to come up with a new dream, desperate and intent on keeping Lilia trapped there.

Malleus holds a lot of weight for Lilia too. When Lilia is pulled into a dream world fastened by Malleus’s magic to guarantee a “happy ending”, Lilia dreams of… an era of war? At first, Silver and co. find this to be strange because war isn’t something you tend to associate with happiness. It’s not until far later that Silver realizes what the real “happiest moment in [his father’s] life” is: the moment of Malleus finally hatching from his egg. Previously, Malleus had been very picky and rejecting the magic offered to him by others, even his own grandmother. This led to a dire situation where he was at risk of dying in his shell, as a dragon’s egg needs infusions of love and magic in order to be viable. In offering up much of himself—including a chunk of his own lifespan—Lilia helped Malleus hatch. To Lilia, this was his happiest—not because he “loves” Malleus more than Silver, but because Malleus hatching as a result of Lilia’s magic is affirming to Lilia that he is capable of parental love. This was a concern he communicated to Meleanor before she parted from this world, that he wasn’t sure he could look after Malleus in her stead because he’s an orphan and has never experienced what it is like to be loved… so he can’t have the capacity to love either. Meleanor reassures him though! If Lilia can love her and Raverne, then surely he can also bring himself to love their child. All these years, Lilia has never thought himself capable of “true love”—not even when he finds an infant Silver later, abandoned in a briar covered castle. But in that moment, when Malleus hatched, a miracle happened, and that miracle was the result of Lilia’s love.

This brings me to one final point about Lilia and Malleus’s relationship: how self-sacrificial Lilia is. Lilia hides a LOT of information from his loved ones, including Silver and Sebek, and instead chooses to accept the emotional burden of knowing himself. He does it with good intention, not wanting his children to be hurt by the scars of the past, but in a way that closes the boys off from fully understanding where they come from and Lilia’s own emotions. This is behavior that continues into present day, including Lilia being in a rush to leave to spare his boys the pain of a prolonged farewell. (I talk more about this aspect of Lilia’s character here, so I would advise reading that if you are interested in this topic.)

To conclude, Malleus and Lilia both highly respect and care for one another. Their bond is a strong one, and that’s perhaps why Malleus is so determined to cling to it—Lilia is one of the few intimate and meaningful connections he has.