#taking pictures of my own hand and tracing it my beloved

[synelven]

[lunasfics]

You Remind Me of Lilies - Damian Wayne

Summary: "You remind me of lilies.” He paused, eyeing you with curiosity, “And why is that, beloved?”  You smiled, “You just do, all different colors of lilies mean different things, and I can trace each one back to you. Every time.”

pairing: older! Damian Wayne x gn! Reader

word count: 611

warnings: none

a/n: saw a picture of lilies and got the idea to write this <3 my formal apology for the jason angst lol, i hope you like it! - luna <3

reblogs are appreciated!

The moment was a quiet one. The two of you were sitting on the grassy patch, the soft cloth from your earlier picnic providing comfort beneath you. Damian held your hand in his as he looked forward, eyeing the patches of lilies scattered across the meadow. 

You looked at him, his brilliant green eyes glazed over with the soft peachy tint of the sunset ahead. The soft breeze swaying his hair ever so slightly, his smooth olive skin was kissed by the soft pink and orange hues of the fading sun. He turned to you, his gaze catching yours. His lips quirked up into a soft smile.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“You remind me of lilies.” 

He paused, eyeing you with curiosity, “And why is that, beloved?” 

You smiled, “You just do, all different colors of lilies mean different things, and I can trace each one back to you. Everytime.” 

A soft shade of pink spreads over his ears and cheeks, he scoots closer to you, the hand that was holding yours letting go and snaking itself around your waist. You leaned into him, relishing the moment. The soft sounds of the grass rustling in the breeze, a blue hue slowly washing over you as the sun sets further. The temperature cooled slowly, the warmth of the sun dissipating, you brought yourself closer to Damian. 

“Tell me about the lilies.” He spoke softly, you almost didn’t catch it. You smiled. 

“Well, white lilies mean purity, tranquility, and humility. Red ones signify love and affection, pink symbolizes youth and joy, and orange ones represent happiness, love, and warmth.” 

He spoke softly, “I don’t know that I’m any of those things.” 

You turned to look at him, “Nonsense, you’re all those things and more.” 

He met your gaze, smiling softly, the sun was gone by now. However looking into his sparkling green eyes, seeing the small crinkles at the corners from his soft gaze, they could’ve fooled you into thinking the sun was shining on just the two of you. 

He leaned and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“I don’t think I would be anywhere near where I am today if not for you. I love you.” He spoke softly. His voice is gentle, tender. 

You were so proud of him. Truly. He'd graduated from the Robin title, taking on his own identity, he'd started attending Gotham University with you. He'd opened up, made friends, he'd come so far. And it was all him. As far as he has come, these kinds of soft gazes, tender words, and warm touches were the kind that he saved only for you. It made them all the more special.

“That's all the product of your effort, Dami, not me. I love you too.” You leaned your head back on his chest, his arm wrapped securely around you. 

The two of you stay like that for a moment, a comfortable silence washing over you like a warm blanket of serenity. The bees have stopped buzzing, the sounds now replaced with the distant songs of the cicadas, and the soft sounds of the crickets. 

Damian broke the silence, “I used to think you were too good for me. That I didn’t deserve you. This. Even now when I look at you it’s as though I am seeing the stars for the first time.”

You met his eyes, gazing into the now darkened shade of green, “You deserve everything good in this world.” 

He held you closer, kissing you softly. He pulled away, speaking softly, “The sun is down, we should get going.” 

You shook your head, “Let’s stay just a little bit longer. This is nice.” 

He smiled and nodded, “As you wish, beloved.”

[meluiloth]

For @silmarillionepistolary day 7, Remembrance and New Beginnings! Artwork at the bottom.

Night has fallen. The lamps have been turned low, the house cleaned, the bedtime routine completed; all Maglor and Maedhros have left to do is tuck the twins and read them their customary story.

They look so small wrapped in the red wool blankets, like two little birds in a crimson nest. They are quiet, too, waiting patiently for Maglor to ask his routine question: “Now, what story would you like tonight? Or would you rather hear a song?”

“I want the one about the Sun and the Moon!” Elros pipes up, scrunching the blanket in his hands eagerly.

Maglor smiles. “Is that what you want as well, Elrond?”

Elrond, the quieter twin, looks bashfully down before murmuring, “I’d like to see the picture book…”

Maglor shares a confused look with Maedhros. They did not own any picture books. “What do you mean?” Maedhros asks.

Elrond tips his head. “The one in your study,” he says. “It’s got gold string around it and lots of pictures on every page.”

Maedhros frowns. “You know you are forbidden from entering my study,” he reproaches.

Elrond bites his lip. “Yes, I know … I just saw the pictures and thought they were pretty.”

Maglor sees the telltale signs of a lecture in Maedhros’s expression, so he swiftly says, “Perhaps we can excuse it this once, if you promise to ask before you touch our things.”

Both Elrond and Elros nod emphatically, and Maglor leaves the room to search for the ‘picture book’ in his brother’s study, which is packed with volumes, scrolls, and papers. Maglor thinks it will take him forever to find the book Elrond described, if it exists at all, but surprisingly he easily locates it in the first bookshelf: a worn book of red leather, tied with a fading gold ribbon. It is familiar to him, but he cannot recollect why until he brings it back into the twins’ room. Maedhros’s eyes widen when he sees it. “Grandfather’s sketchbook? I thought that was lost ages ago!”

“It was in a box in the back,” Elrond supplies.

Maglor looks down at it, a stab of nostalgia and old grief passing through him. “I thought we never even brought it,” he murmurs.

“Can we read it?” Elros asks, leaning forward curiously.

Maedhros frowns, his reluctance clear. There are many memories neither of them want to relive, the life and death of their grandfather among the most heartbreaking. But many of the memories Finwë recorded in his beloved sketchbook were his happiest, from both his life and the rest of his family’s. And the two young children looking up at Maglor are also Finwë’s family … and he wants to share something of his life that is not just the blood on his hands.

The spine of the book cracks softly as he opens it, and the yellowed paper releases a small puff of dust, but the artwork on the inside is still as lovely and life-filled as the day he penned them.

Maglor explains each piece as he showed it to the twins, and lets them look as long as they like. Even Maedhros sometimes asks him to wait a little longer on certain pages, the heavy, dark look in his eyes brightening when he remembers his childhood in Valinor.

It is well past midnight by the time they reach the last pages, and all of them are surprised to see that they are all in full color, when all the previous pages have been only graphite sketches.

“Who are they?” Elros breathes, tracing his finger delicately over the meticulously painted faces.

Maglor swallows, his throat and his eyes clogged with tears. His brother, too, is at a loss for words.

“It’s them,” Elrond says, looking up at the Fëanorians and then back down at thd drawings. “Maglor and Maedhros are right there … but Maedhros looks different …”

It was true. Maglor and Maedhros, along with all of their brothers - still alive and smiling radiantly - and their parents. On the other pages, their cousins and uncles and aunts, before any of them had suffered the horrors of Morgoth.

“That is us,” Maedhros murmurs. “That was us then. We were so happy..."

“What was it like … then?” Elros ventures.

Maglor smiles. “I will tell you.”

“Tomorrow night,” Maedhros interrupts. “It is very late, and if you are to understand a word we say, you must be well-rested.”

[moremaybank]

hi darling, can you make a very cute imagination where klaus is hatching a plot against an enemy, and he is making a plan with some witches and suddenly a witch sees klaus's phone and looks at his wallpaper which is a picture of y/n and the witch asks klaus who the girl in the photo is and klaus tells her that it's his girlfriend and starts talking about her non-stop, going completely from conspiring to talking about his beloved.

POUR YOUR HEART OUT — k.m

pairing klaus mikaelson x gf!reader

summary klaus is working with a certain coven of witches in new orleans in an attempt to protect you from esther. the leader of the coven wonders if helping him is worth it. to quiet her doubts, she takes matters into her own hands, and this causes klaus to gush over his girlfriend.

warnings new orleans!klaus but hope doesn't exist, fluff, slightly drugged!klaus (truth serum made by a witch), mentions of murder and violence (it's klaus, what'd you expect)

author's note kinda changed some of the details, i hope that's okay! this wasn't a fic i planned on posting today, but i had the inspiration for it sooo yeah

klaus masterlist

"i don't want any excuses. if we aren't prepared, esther will take any given opportunity to strike against me or my family."

"we are working as fast as we can, klaus. these things take time," calliope, the leader of the coven klaus had been plotting with, stated. it was clear from the tone of her voice that she was beginning to grow annoyed with klaus's constant pestering.

"well, we do not have time. there are people i must protect, even more so when the protection is against my vile mother," klaus replied, pacing around the room as he gesticulated impatiently. "you're forgetting i can kill all of you without blinking."

"and you're forgetting that all it takes is one word from me for my entire coven to turn on you and side with your mother and the ancestors. back off," calliope replied, standing her ground.

"just work faster," klaus grumbled in response, pulling out his phone from his pocket to find a text from you.

everything okay?

the corners of his lips turned up, his dimples threatening to peak through.

yes, love. everything is fine. i'll be home in an hour.

okay. just remember to be nice to the witches. the coven is risking a lot to help us. i love you.

klaus shook his head as he chuckled. it was almost ridiculous how well you knew him and his behaviour.

i'm always nice. and i love you too.

klaus was halfway to putting his phone back in the pocket of his jacket when calliope caught a glimpse of his lock screen.

"who's that?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed in inquiry.

"none of your business. stay focused on the task at hand," klaus responded.

"wow. why so cagey?"

klaus avoided her gaze. the longer he remained silent, the more clear it became to the young witch. klaus wasn't just fighting to protect his family. he was fighting to protect her.

he was doing it for love.

"ah, i get it now. you're in love. heh, who would've thought that the big, bad hybrid was capable of love?" calliope smirked, crossing her arms as she stepped closer to him.

"what makes you think i am?"

"oh, please," calliope scoffs, "it's so obvious. your face turned bright red at the mere sight of a text message. tell me about her."

"what is it to you?"

"she must be special if the klaus mikaelson is working like a dog — no pun intended — to protect her. i'm just curious to know what she's like," calliope explained.

"did i not tell you to mind your business? we're wasting precious time even talking about this. get to work. there are lives at stake, calliope," klaus ordered, traces of his slight grin long gone from his features.

"exactly. her life is at stake. that's the reason you're fighting so hard to get this done. i want to know why. what makes her so important that you'd risk waging a war between the covens of new orleans?"

klaus sighed begrudgingly, knowing full well that calliope would not drop the topic.

"tell me, or i'm shutting this whole thing down. you know i will," calliope said.

klaus rolled his eyes, dragging a hand down his face. there really was no getting around calliope and her antics.

"you're right. she's special, calliope. that is why it is so dire for me to protect her, alright? now drop it," he grumbled once more. to tell you the truth, he was ready to get the hell out of there if it weren't for the plan he was putting in motion.

calliope, on the other hand, knew klaus was not going to make things easy for her. still, she needed to understand why klaus would go to extreme lengths for his girl because she wondered if helping him was worth it. picking a fight with one of the most diabolical witches known to mankind in the name of her hybrid offspring was one thing, but if she learned that she was working her coven tirelessly to help protect the female version of klaus...let's just say it would absolutely tank the plan.

so, calliope needed to take action. lucky for her, she knew just what to do.

"okay, then. do you want a drink? i can pour you a bourbon," calliope asked klaus. please say yes, please say yes, please say yes, she thought.

"if it'll get you to leave me be, then sure," klaus huffed in response.

calliope rolled her eyes at him, but internally, she was smiling like a fool.

she made her way over to the makeshift bar, taking out two glasses and pouring the whiskey into both of them. when she was sure klaus wasn't looking, she pulled out a small vile containing a truth serum of her own design and emptied it into klaus's glass. then, when she was finished, she made her way back to klaus and handed him his glass.

"cheers," calliope spoke, downing the contents in her glass. klaus raised his own, before doing the same.

about ten minutes passed, and calliope returned to klaus after checking on her witches.

"remember how you asked me about my girlfriend?" klaus asked, a slightly dopey grin now plastered on his face. "she really is remarkable."

"how so?" calliope questioned, pulling two chairs for them to sit on. she watched klaus slump onto the chair, his hands clasping in his lap as he threw his head back, looking at the ceiling. his expression was dazed, and calliope wanted to laugh. it was odd to see him act this way, but funny, nevertheless.

"she's beautiful, a kind of beauty that in all my years, i've never encountered even once. when i look at her, it's as if the entire world goes quiet. all i can focus on is the bright sparkle in her eyes and her gravitating smile. if angels really do exist, then she is one. without a doubt," he muses.

"is that why you're so enamoured by her? because of her beauty?" calliope questioned.

"do i seem that shallow to you?"

"do you really want me to answer that?"

"...right. well, anyway, the answer is no. yes, she's stunning beyond belief, but that's not why i feel so strongly for her."

"then what is it about her? what was it that forced the truly wicked klaus mikaelson to care about someone other than himself for once?"

klaus sat up, leaning forward to rest his arms on the tops of his thighs as he zoned in on calliope.

"she's never seen me as evil," klaus states. "she took a single look at me, and instantly knew in her heart that there was more to me than an immortal hybrid whose greed and thirst for power outweighed everything else. and that's not to say that she excused my actions because she didn't. she held me accountable, and she gave me grief. but she also cared enough to dig past the facade i'm so used to putting up in the face of my enemies. she cared enough to search for the real me."

calliope listened to him, truly taking in his words and letting them sink in. she'd been brought up with the stories of klaus mikaelson: the great evil. she'd heard about the never-ending list of the towns he'd slaughtered and the way he daggered his siblings when they did not please him. from the legends, he never seemed like the type of person to contain even one percent of goodness within him.

so for someone to see that in him, someone as good as the girl he was describing, it spoke volumes to her.

"i struggle to believe that she exists sometimes. that a girl with so much compassion could even take a chance on someone like me. she has the biggest heart i've ever known. she gives so much of herself to my family and our community. she's brave in the face of my enemies. she fights tirelessly for my family, who she treats as her own. she's not afraid to speak her mind and stand up for what she believes in...god, there are so many bloody things to love about her. she's perfect. much too perfect for me, but perfect all the same. i don't know what i did to deserve her, but i thank the stars every day that i found her."

calliope exhaled, still in awe of what she was hearing. she'd known that klaus was poetic, but she assumed that she just did that for dramatic flair in true klaus fashion.

"wow. i gotta say, i never thought i'd hear you talk about anyone in that manner. it's...weird," she said, chuckling slightly.

"yes, well, it's not every day you're given a truth serum by the very witches who are supposed to be on your side," klaus replies, giving her a knowing look.

"to be fair, i am on your side. especially now that i know i'm not helping you protect the female version of you."

"normally, i would be quick to retaliate given the circumstances, but she is the most precious thing to me. if you need to see how highly i regard her in order to provide protection for her, then that's all that matters. this is bigger than me," klaus responds. "she's not just good. she inspires goodness within me, and i need that. so i will do whatever it takes. but make no mistake, if you double cross me, you and your coven will cease to exist on this earth."

calliope chuckled in response to his threat, "i thought you said she inspires goodness in you?"

"she does, but that doesn't mean that i won't go to great lengths to make sure she's taken care of."

~

klaus tag list (join here!): @princess-charming-01 @maybankslover @trenchmaniac @techlipse @the-kaya-aa @catmikaelson20 @hopesdadswife @amournoir @skydisneylover @kittyqrt

[desceros]

Requesting a reader watching bayverse donnie work. Platonic or romantic, up to you, just thinking the way you write visual poetry would work good with explaining Donnie’s little work motions.

bay donnie, my beloved [strokes the picture of him i keep in a locket] donatello/reader; gn reader; rated t

Donnie is good with his hands. 

He’s also a sweetheart who patiently tolerates you spending literal hours of your life staring at him, chin propped up on your hands as you watch his work their magic. He’s repairing some piece of tech off his shell that had apparently gotten battered in their last tussle, and it looks like actual witchcraft from where you’re sitting.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” you gush as he glides some sort of metallic piece into place like it isn’t the size of a pencil eraser, the tiny little tweezers looking comically small in his hands and yet acting like an extension of him. 

Donnie huffs a laugh, glancing briefly at you out of the corner of his eyes, his gaze warm and intimate even for its short span. “What brought that on, all of the sudden?”

Adoringly, you watch him weave wires into place as easily as Raph knits those cute little scarves for everyone. It’s like he’s not even trying, you think, fully entranced. The electronic world at his hands is a tiny little microcosm of a universe, and he, its god for how effortlessly he creates and moves its parts. You think of all his tech, all around you; how easy it is to forget the mastery required to pull it all together, to maintain it, to treat machine as a medium of art.

“You’re just… amazing,” you repeat, helpless to say anything more without dropping a complete dissertation on the totality of space Donatello has taken as his own in your soul. “The way you can… Just make things. Out of nothing. It’s. It’s really incredible.” 

“Is that why you’re always in here?” he asks, lips quirked up into a little smile that feel a bit like a tease. “To watch me make things?” 

“Well, it doesn’t hurt that you’re easy to look at, either,” you confess, twirling a finger along the surface of his desk shyly. It’s not the first time you’ve flirted with him, and it’s not the first time you’ve watched him bloom under your attention; but it’s new, enough, that it takes a bit of bravery, still. 

“That’s good to hear. I was worried you were only in here for my tech, for a second there,” he says, and only the knowledge that he knows it isn’t true keeps you from swan diving into a lecture about otherwise.

Licking your lips, you slide your palm over your mouth as if muffling your next sentence will make it less dangerous to say. “I… could be in here just for you. If… you wanted me to. If… If you’d let me.”

“Let you?” he echoes in surprise, finally looking away from the delicate electrical work in his hands so his hazel gaze meets you full on. “You do realize you’re the only other person allowed in here, right?” 

Butterflies catching in your throat, you shift your weight from one hip to the other and swallow. “I-I know. But—”

Donnie narrows his eyes as he studies you, leaving you feel a bit like a specimen under a microscope. Still, you let him, because any amount of his attention feels good, even if it means peeling off your skin and letting him see the way your heart has changed to the shape of him. 

“—But I want to know,” you admit quietly, pressing the pads of your fingers to your lips before they fall to the table to trace anxious shapes. “…That it’s different. For me.”

Donnie’s face smooths a little as he understands what you’re asking of him, and smooth as silk, he dips in close and brushes his lips against yours. It’s gentle enough to make you gasp, shocked that something can be so soft and still raise sensation, every hair on your arms standing at attention from the sheer intimacy of it. Leaning in, you seek more, slotting your mouth under his and inviting him closer to your hummingbird heartbeat. 

His hands cup your jaw, pulling you towards him, holding you in place as he tilts his head and sinks further into you. He tastes sweet, you think dreamily, sighing out and curling your fingers on the edge of his plastron. 

“It’s different,” he murmurs against your mouth, his lips catching yours for how much he can’t bear to pull away now that he’s gotten started; like now that he’s allowed himself to have you, he’s never going to let you go. The thought makes you smile and laugh, because oh, how could he ever think you’d want to leave?

“You’re amazing,” you sigh out again, and this time, he laughs, his hands finding you instead of his tools.

[sky-kiss]

Eeeee Shadow Raphael anon here! I'm so happy you're inspired by it! I have two options you can choose from.

1) platonic - them having a chess match and it just being a wity banter off and them enjoying riffing off of each other so much. Maybe this is at the inn/brothel lobby so other people can be there if you'd like.

Or

2) Them having a one night. I don't really have specifics but my brain is barking and screeching because I'd imagine anything explored via your writing will be so good and so much to chew on so I'm up for ANYTHING really!

Thank youuuu!

A/N: Ok, so this is so rushed, and I’m sorry about that. I want to do stuff with these two SO BADLY. Anyway, Dark Justiciar Shadowheart. Post game. Raphael received the crown. 

Shadowheart/Raphael: Meetup

"Raphael—I'm not surprised to find you here."

The half-elf slides into the seat across from him, lips turned up a charmingly self-satisfied smirk. It takes Raphael a moment to recall her name—she is, in truth, only tangentially referenced in his mental library, one of Tav's many delinquent compatriots. He leans back, humming, before he says, "Astutely observed, my dear, though perhaps less impressive than you hope. The Caress is nothing if not my home away from home." 

"I've no interest in impressing you, devil. 

"No, only in interrupting my meal, it seems," his voice dips to a velvety purr, cataloging the minute shift in the Sharran's posture. She arches a brow, gaze flicking to the empty table. Raphael indicates the crowded hall around them. "My hunting grounds, my meals, priestess. Every moment you linger is an opportunity wasted."  

Shadowheart scoffs, drumming her fingers on the table between them. The pretty creature tips her head to the side, regarding him through artfully lowered lashes. "You were more civil before." 

"Your intrepid leader had something I wanted—and our business has long since concluded." The cambion clucks his tongue. "Where is my Mouse these days?" 

She stiffens. "I wouldn't know. Tav…she took her leave some time ago." 

"Oh?" 

"I've no need to explain myself to you."

"None at all. But you were a precious little pair, weren't you? Haarlep does so regret being unable to…collect you both." Raphael lifts his right hand, inspecting his nails. "One fair turn for another…tell me the truth of your parting, and I will hear your request." 

Shar's Chosen regards him coldly. "My Dark Lady demands the whole of my heart." 

"How selfish. I almost admire her." Oh, but he likes that flush of color in her cheeks. Power radiates off her, different, colder than many of the god's chosen toys. Shar has given this one a shocking amount of play, provided she remained a loyal little dog. No slipping her leash. "Tell me what you need, my dear." 

"An enemy of Lady Shar has gone to ground. I'd have him found." 

"Simple enough—hardly requiring my talents. Or worth incurring my cost." Raphael smiles with teeth, curiosity piqued. "Who is this erstwhile quarry?" 

She paints him a picture: one of Selune's most beloved champions, a lycanthrope, long fled from the city. His trail and his scent had long since gone cold. The damned creature had very likely fled to a different plane. 

The devil considers the offer, taking in her appearance again: beautiful, dark. Some trace hint of Tav's scent still lingers on, perhaps in spirit rather than reality. It's intoxicating. Her eyes glitter with dreadful ambition and determination—it calls to an echoing spirit festering in his own breast. 

"No contract," Raphael drawls, tracing the rim of his glass. He has ordered wine for them, richer, deep, and red. "Let us consider this…a favor between friends."

"Very generous of you. Suspiciously so."

 "Is it? I've always found it most advantageous to conduct my business in a more...relaxed fashion than your dear Lady. The first taste, as they say, is free." He raises his glass in a toast. Shar's Chosen returns the gesture in kind, lips turning in dark satisfaction. 

~~~~~~

She comes to him months later. 

“The first taste was free,” Shadowheart grumbles, leaning back. “So, name your cost.” 

He scoffs. “My dear, where is your flair for the dramatic? Tease out the tension! Savor the give and take, bargain…” 

“...you make it sound like seduction, devil.” The Justiciar’s tongue flicks out to wet her lower lip, so sweetly, ignorantly satisfied. Oh, but she is young. All her power, violence, and inexperience still hang about her like stray traces of baby fat in a youth’s cheeks. 

“If you like. I prefer to think of it as a dance—coming together, stepping apart, together…all to our mutual satisfaction.” 

Shadowheart’s eyes glitter in the half-light, intrigued. 

~~~~~~

She comes to him again. 

And again. 

Again. 

They work surprisingly well together. And her goddess turns a blind eye. 

~~~~~~

“How sweet,” he purrs, sucking her lower lip between his teeth. They’ve recently started conducting their business in the Den rather than the common room, and the added privacy has led to this. Shadowheart walks him backward, hands already at his belt. The half-elf whimpers against his lips, the delicacy of the noise contrasting with the natural authority she carries. “You still taste like her, pet.” 

She chuckles, flicking her tongue along the seam of his lips. “You never tasted her.”

“No, but…” Raphael’s grip is bruising on her hips—she fails to so much as flinch. “Haarlep is so eager to indulge me—I wager I’ve had her more frequently than you.” 

“Ah—a poor man’s imitation.” She stands on the tips of her toes, tracing his nose with hers. The half-elf leans back, smirking. “We should compare someday…see how your counterfeit compares to reality.” 

He laughs despite himself. “It could be arranged." He presses his lips to the shell of her ear, pleased at the way shiver. "I’d quite like to watch them fuck you.” 

“I’d like it too. But for now…” she pushes Raphael back on the mattress, crawling over him. “I shall have to be content with you.”

[trickstarbrave]

WIP Whenever

I GOT TAGGED BY @thescrolls-haveforetold !!

we've got a serious picture of my little idiot ahkrinaak <;3 im also working on secret santa stuff but NO ONE can see those. not yet.

also i have some moon and star spoilers im really happy with >:) cw for blood

ALSO TAGGING: @boethiahspillowbook @soundwavefucker69 @orfeoarte @caliblorn and @mulberrycafe (if you guys wanna)

--

He hissed as the blade hit skin, slowly peeling away layers of gold to reveal deep, crimson red. 

“Good boy,” Nerevar cooed to him softly, praising him for his resolve. “You’re doing so well for me.” The praise was enough to make his mind feel hazy, gasping and groaning. It hurt—that was obvious. It stung and burned, every little breeze on the injury like fire. The ache though was a reminder of his dedication: proof of his devotion and love. Voryn would only allow Nerevar to hurt him in this way, and would gladly take the pain from his beloved’s hands. Hands that were all at once so violent and gentle, so loving and destructive. 

Finally, it was finished, and Voryn breathed in a sigh, healing spell in hand. He made sure to heal it slowly, stitching the wound shut carefully. He needed it to scar properly after all, leaving Nerevar’s brand on him for all to see. Voryn smiled fondly however as he traced his hand over it; it wasn’t Nerevar’s full name, just the first letter. N—Neht. What Voryn called him so fondly, engraved on his skin in a large enough symbol that it was impossible to deny.

“I thought it would be better like this.” Nerevar explained with a gentle kiss to his cheek. “I’m not that good at it after all, and my name has too many damn letters.”

“I love it.” Voryn whispered back, reverence in his voice. It would be more legible like this with Nerevar’s clumsy technique. He was not trained in it, after all, and anything more complicated would take an artist’s hand.

Luckily for Voryn, he was in fact an artist.

“Lay down on your stomach.” Voryn mumbled after a few soft, messy kisses. “It’s your turn.”

Obediently—if not excitedly—Nerevar moved off him to lay on his belly, practically buzzing with anticipation. 

Voryn remembered, knife in hand as he crawled on top of Nerevar once more, old Velothi stories and ways their people used to tell fortunes. A mark on your back was often interpreted as from the future, for you couldn’t see the future coming. A mark on the front of one’s body was, by extension, from the past. He wondered if the Three knew that when they placed the moon and star on his chest, if that Ashlander woman was to be believed. 

An injury to the back was at once sacred and profane for the chimer. Hidden attacks and stabs in someone’s back were the ways of Mephala and to some extension Boethiah. To stab someone in the back was an attempt to destroy or change their future, and usually an attempt to cut their life short. But here he didn’t want to take Nerevar’s life, though he knew the other would let him in all of his tender vulnerability at this moment. 

If Nerevar thought it was his future--his destiny--that Voryn would leave him, Voryn would change that. With the knife in hand, Voryn would carve away all the parts of his future that would keep them apart, and make his mark on Nerevar’s very flesh so that it could never be denied. Let the Good Daedra smite him for his hubris if they must, but there must be a reason they marked his chest and left his back bare. 

Nerevar hissed softly at the sting of the blade, fingers clenching and unclenching as Voryn wrote his own name in daedric script across Nerevar’s left shoulder. It would leave his sword arm still free to move with ease while it healed if he needed to fight, and also Voryn found himself drawn to the left side of his body at the moment, pulled to leave his mark there. 

As he carved, slicing skin off in a way that would be sure to scar as cleanly as possible, it became rhythmic and almost trance-like. Red bloomed under the knife, moving down his trapezius to pool along his spine, or slid down the deltoid muscle to the blankets. In the dark, the blood looked more and more black than it did red, mesmerizing as Voryn continued his careful work. The lustful, burning need gave way to something even more primal; a compulsion, an instinct, a drive. He had for so long had the urge to carve his name into Nerevar’s body and repressed it, fearing what kind of a violent, selfish lover that would make him. Yet now, blade in hand and on bloodied sheets, he felt at peace, as though such an act was written in fate. 

Finally, Voryn finished the last letter of his name, the same as the one on his thigh: neht. It was oddly fitting, as though the two of them came full circle, a closed loop. He cast a healing spell on Nerevar’s shoulder, smiling fondly as he stitched the wounds shut carefully so that they would scar as well, before turning his attention to the blood that pooled along his lover’s spine.

“Voryn~” Nerevar moaned sweetly as Voryn lapped it up. It tasted particularly metallic right now; perhaps it was the alcohol in his system or the heavy feeling that clung in the air he had no name for, but he savored the taste all the same. 

“We’re connected.” Voryn whispered with bloodied lips against the pale gold of Nerevar’s skin. Voryn then was hit with deja vu as he remembered saying almost the same when they first made love. Perhaps they really had come full circle; the first time they knew each other’s bodies was just the start of them shedding off everything they used to conceal their love and desires. Now, they had finally completed the cycle, fully open with one another, and fully bound. “Neht…” Voryn whispered with reverence as he continued lapping up the blood from his spine, before trailing his lips up the vertebrae he could feel through his skin, coaxing shiver after shiver from his lover, and placed one last, almost devout kiss between his shoulder blades, before Nerevar rolled over and took Voryn by the waist with him. 

[wanderingaldecaldo]

by @sidver

Every colour and every taste Every breath that whispers your name It's like emeralds on the pavement (I got your honey, baby) At the heart of some kind of flower Stuck in glitter, strands of saliva Won't you get me right where the hurt is?

Robyn, "Honey"

I am at a loss for words—metaphorically at a loss of course, as I am nothing if not a writer. I cried once before when I received a commission (this incredible piece of Val by khymeira), which incidentally was a year ago yesterday; and now today when I was blessed by this gorgeous piece.

More blubbering (and WIP Wednesday) under the cut.

For background on my request, I gave Sidver a bit of my corpo!Val story, the part where things officially go off the rails in the plan, where these two friends who are faking being in love accidentally cross a line, then deliberately cross it once more.

This picture isn't worth 1000 words. It's value is infinite. It would (will) take thousands upon thousands of words to tell this story—the way Mitch cradles her head, and the tentative possession with his other hand; how Val holds his face, caressing his scar; the way they stand together, uncertain but longing; god, the emotionsssss. Sidver took a few paragraphs of words and turned it into real art.

And now I'm going to make this long post even longer by shamelessly adding on my writing since beloved @starsandskies tagged me for WIP Wednesday; only gonna tag @ravenstrange for reasons*. Please forgive the indulgence and have ~500 of the thousands of words that I need to write to live up to this incredible picture Sidver painted.

“Long day,” Mitch says.

Rather than answer, Val leans her head against his shoulder. This casual intimacy catches in his throat. He knows he should stop it, that it’s only going to make things worse when it’s time to stop pretending and return to the family; but he can’t, doesn’t want to. Instead he wraps his cybernetic arm around her, his hand on her shoulder, and she leans into him and sighs again. He skims his hand up and down her bicep, tracing his fingers along the lean muscle before returning them to her shoulder and squeezing gently. She shivers beside him.

“Cold? Want my jacket?”

With a shake of her head, Val smiles up at him and his heart skips a beat. “Thanks.”

Silence falls between them once more. Mitch finishes his cigarette then stubs it out and flicks it into the darkness below. He wishes he could bottle this feeling and carry it back to camp with him, this comforting shared quiet. Without conscious thought Mitch turns his head and presses his lips to her forehead. He breathes deep, inhaling the unassuming scent of her shampoo. As soon as Val shifts he knows he made a mistake, and then she brings her emerald eyes up to his face.

He’s been captivated before by the white ring surrounding the green pupil, but he’s never before noticed the brown spikes that ring the iris, just like his own—central heterochromia, he remembers, though how he can think at all while she’s looking up at him like this is beyond him. As she studies his face her eyebrows draw together, a tiny line appearing between them. He can’t read her expression but it’s her, not the corpo, and his chest squeezes even tighter, the breaths harder to draw. 

Her eyes drop to his lips and her own lips part before she raises her gaze back to his, the tip of her tongue peeking out as she tilts her face to him. Blood roaring in his ears, Mitch knows it’s a lapse in judgment from the drink, from the look in her eyes when he tips his chin down and brings them closer together. Val closes the distance, pressing her soft lips against his in a hesitant kiss. After a moment she pulls back, searches his eyes while her fingers linger on his skin. She still is letting him in, even if he doesn’t know what he’s seeing. 

“Val,” Mitch murmurs, part warning, part affirmation. 

Her name on his lips makes her breath come faster and her hand moves to the back of his neck, pulling him down to her once more. His cybernetic fingers slide up her shoulder to twine in the hair at the back of her neck, searching for anything to ground him. His head spins as she deepens the kiss. He’s lost now, falling backward into the abyss and sinking into darkness, and he doesn’t care.

*️⃣ Raven, you've been an awesome friend, and I can't overstate how much better you made my life when you put the seed for this ridiculous thing in my head.

[lamemaster]

Let's Not Get Married (Fingon x Reader)

Pairing: Fingon x Ace Reader

Genre: Fluff

AN: Ace reader is close to my heart and this is an interpretation of my own experiences.

"DO WhAT??"

Anaire looked at you with a puzzled expression, her lips curving into a barely concealed smile. In the background, Turgon couldn't help but chuckle, a rare display of emotion from the most emotionally constipated Finwean.

Unfazed by your wide-eyed reaction, Anaire repeated herself. "After the feast, the bride and groom continue their binding in the privacy of their room. It's the union of souls and bodies."

"So, sex equals marriage," you blurted out, and you could almost feel your very proper mother-in-law cringing at your words. Anaire nodded curtly.

A cold sense of dread settled in your bones as the implications sank in. Sex. Bodies. Sweat. Gasps. Moans. Unnatural warmth. Skin. Hands. Fingers tracing along exposed backs. Nails scratching against a lover's back. Ruffled sheets. Passion. Pleasure. Disgust.

"Don't humans enjoy it?" Argon's voice interrupted your thoughts as he took a seat beside you. "It's an act that pleases men more than the Eldar. I've heard it happens more frequently for you."

You didn't take his words to heart. Instead, you silently thanked the heavens that Fingon wasn't here to witness this conversation. Your beloved would have relished in the opportunity to tease you endlessly about it.

"Um," you cleared your dry throat, realizing it had been ages since you'd discussed this topic with anyone. Three pairs of identical eyes stared back at you. Both Turgon and Argon shared Anaire's features, while your beloved resembled his father. "Well, most humans do enjoy it... it can be quite wonderful," you stammered, trying to push out the memories of awkward encounters. "But there are some who don't. Some don't care for it, while others are repulsed by it."

It had been expected of you. The world asked for a price to be loved. A friendly smile, a flirty banter, or a romantic date were debts that you were expected to repay. Love needed to be proved with bodies just the offering of heart and soul was never enough.

The atmosphere in the lively courtyard grew heavy with silence, a silence that had become all too familiar to you over the years. In response, you did what came naturally to you: you let out an awkward burst of laughter and forced a smile onto your face, trying to project an air of ease.

"I guess I'm one of those malfunctioning ones," you quipped, hoping to lighten the mood. However, your attempt at humor fell flat, and the somber mood persisted.

"I mean, I've never really tried... I could give it a shot. I'm sure it would be fine with Fingon," you continued, now finding yourself rambling about sex with your beloved in front of his family. "I won't hate it. Maybe I've been wrong all along, and-"

"You don't have to marry anyone, nesa," Argon suddenly enveloped you in a warm embrace. "You don't have to do anything for the sake of my hanno or anyone else." Argon, an elf who was decades older than you, insisted on calling you "nesa."

For the first time in the morning, the smile that finds itself on your face is followed by joy. You hug your brother-in-law back. Even the freezing depths of Helcaraxe had failed to taint his spirit.

You playfully nudged Argon with your elbow, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Now, Argon, I'm quite certain none of us would be adequately prepared to endure your hanno's incessant whining if he ever discovered our little impromptu alliance."

Both of you burst into laughter at the thought of Fingon's reaction. The image of him throwing a tantrum over the exclusive rights to hugs and cuddles was both amusing and endearing.

"I can already picture it," you said, trying to stifle your laughter. "He'd be all dramatic, claiming his territory, and insisting that no one else is allowed to cuddle with his human."

Argon wiped away a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye. "Well, then, it's settled. Our secret alliance shall remain a closely guarded secret. For the sake of peace in the family."

[sebsxphia]

Jake's biggest fear is loosing you. There is no one else for him but you. While your dogfight skills rival his, he still worries about you every time you get in the sky. He knows things go wrong for even the best pilots and the hunk of metal can be unpredictable. The promise in wedding bands and verbally repeated often is enough to trust that you'll always come back down to him, and him to you.

One phone call and Jake feels like his world has collapsed.

A faulty operating system and a jammed ejection handle left you with broken ribs and a fractured leg and a concussion.

What Jake didn't expect was the aftermath of almost loosing you. He couldn't picture his life without you, but for a moment. He had to.

After surgery, two weeks in a stiff hospital bed and a slow healing process, you were home.

Staring at you sleeping used to be a comforting past time, but he can see the pain contorting in your brows. Even if you say you feel fine, he picks out the shake in your voice when you shift in covers. Listening to you cry in pain as you try to sit up on your own makes him want to vomit. He can hear through every lie saying that you are fine and that it doesn't even hurt much. Everything seems to be a constant reminder of the feeling of the blood draining from his limbs. The beeping of the hospital. The pale look on the Squadron's faces as they enter the room.

He hears you frustratedly on the phone try and argue your grounded status. You are stubborn and think you are healing faster than you truly are. But Jake will be there to catch you when you try to stand on your bad leg or go up the stairs even when doctors ordered against. He'll rub your back muscles as you try to get through the cramps of whiplash. He struggles with not being able to do anything that just hold you and try to distract you from the pain. but the relief of having you in his arms is overwhelming

Even months or years later. He'll trace the scars and place gentle kisses over them. Holding you extra tight at night after a close call or a moment of panic.

-@sandbarbirdie 🥊

ouchie <3

BIRDIE PLEASE

jake always knew his biggest fear would be loosing you, but he never took into account the emotional aftermath of nearly loosing you. he thought he would be over the moon and happy. of course he’s happy because you’re in his arms again, but he feels relief that you’re alive more than anything.

the long months he spent taking care of you never leave him and he still automatically does things for you a year on. he’s there to wake up first and coming to your side of the bed to help you out, but standing back when he remembers you can walk fine now.

he reaches out his hand when you get into the shower (you still take it because you appreciate the sweet gesture none the less). he brings your coffee and breakfast to the living room in the morning, but remembers you sleep upstairs now.

his touch is still gentle with you and he finds himself mindlessly tracing the scars when your legs rest on him as you watch a movie. he was used to patching them up all the time.

if you ever get into another close call, he’s kissing your scars softly and whispering against your ear, “i’m so relieved you’re okay, my sweetheart. i couldn’t loose you again.”

he didn’t technically loose you the first time, but it felt like he lost you.

ouchie!

thank you so so much for this incredible angsty thought my beloved birdie!! i will forever be grateful for our angsty brainwaves!! 💌🫶🏼💖

[jonillaa]

Hi it’s me again lol!!! I thought about a new (and the last one cause I feel like I’m bothering u ooff)

When reader meets for the first time Jo’s cat MINT <3

Like jo suggested that after school the reader will come to his house for the first time to meet his cat!!!!!! And also mb his mom and older brother (?) he never talked about his dad before so like I don’t know about him lol.

Anyways I thought it will be cute hehe

If u not familiar with Jo’s cat here’s a link to one of his pics!! https://twitter.com/n1chochill/status/1535097430273925129?s=46

Fun fact!!:) Apparently mint is with Jo since Jo was 6 years old!! ^_^

Also I hope I’m not annoying u too much haha:) have a nice day

WHISKERS AND WHISPERS ┊ asakura jo

PAIRING ┊ non-idol!jo x f!reader

GENRE ┊ fluff , high school au

WC ┊945

WARNINGS ┊ jo gets jealous (? idk im bad with warnings) , jo and reader kiss shockers?! , awkward dialogues (plz im trying.) , not proof-read, lowercase intended (like always)

SYNOPSIS ┊ you and jo have been dating for almost a year, and one day after school, jo invites you to his house for the first time to meet his beloved cat, mint. however, mint ends up stealing your attention, leaving jo feeling a little jealous. because of this, jo goes to great awkward lengths to regain your focus and prove that he's just as captivating as his cat.

A/N ┊ this request is so cuteee, i did not know jo had a cat until i saw this req 😭 so when i tell you how i literally ran to twt after i was done reading it LMFAOO (and youre not bothering me at all btw!! keep sending more requests if you have some in mind ^_^) also i wasnt sure if jo’s cat was a girl or a boy so my apologies T_T

as the school bell rang, signaling the end of another day, jo’s heart raced in anticipation. today was the day he had mustered up the courage to invite you over to his house for the first time. the thought of introducing you to his beloved cat, mint, filled him with both excitement and nervousness.

jo approached you with a shy smile. "hey, would you like to come over to my place? I want you to meet someone very special."

intrigued by his invitation, your curiosity got the better of you, and you eagerly agreed. holding hands, you walked side by side towards jo’s house, a trace of excitement lingering in your hearts.

upon arrival, the door swung open to reveal jo’s older brother, who greeted you warmly. nervously scratching the back of his head, jo's shy voice introduced you to the family. "this is my brother. he’s the one who took all the embarrassing childhood pictures."

your laughter mingled with his, and you shared a knowing glance as jo’s brother playfully warned you to be prepared for an onslaught of embarrassing stories.

the living room radiated with warmth, and the air buzzed with anticipation as curiosity sparked within you. you followed jo's lead towards a cozy corner, where a sleek gray feline rested regally on a plush cushion.

jo’s eyes shone with a mixture of pride and adoration as he introduced mint, the feline companion who had captured his heart long before you had. "this is mint. she’s a little shy, but she’ll warm up to you soon."

you extended your hand gingerly, allowing mint to approach at their own pace. with silent grace, the cat circled you, their entrancing gaze connecting with yours, as if evaluating the new presence in their domain.

lost in the cat’s captivating presence, your attention became enraptured by mint’s charm. jo, couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy as the focus seemed to momentarily shift away from him.

with playful sarcasm laced in his voice, jo interjected, "oh, you know, i’m just glad that mint’s giving you the attention i strive so hard to get."

your eyes met his, a mischievous grin on your lips. "sorry, jo, looks like I'm falling for your cat instead."

jo’s determined resolve kicked in, and he decided to take matters into his own hands. he orchestrated a series of "accidental" encounters, positioning himself in moments he hoped would divert your gaze from mint.

he stumbled over furniture, intent on capturing your attention, but the intended result only brought forth laughter and more endearing moments. in his pursuit of proving his captivating qualities, jo managed to embody both clumsiness and charm.

finally, jo grasped a toy in his hand, waving it subtly to inspire a playful response from mint. the cat's focus shifted towards jo, their playful antics captivating your gaze once more.

with an exaggerated pout, jo sighed dramatically. "looks like it's still mint who has your heart."

unable to resist his adorable jealousy, you closed the distance between you, your touch light against Jo's arm. "oh, jo, you have my heart. but mint definitely has a way of stealing the spotlight."

the atmosphere shimmered with warmth as jo’s tender eyes met your own. in that moment, you understood that beyond the quirks and the jealousies, what truly mattered was the unspoken connection shared between two hearts.

mint had woven a tapestry of affection, further intertwining the love that already flourished between you and jo. in their presence, you had come to appreciate the qualities that made jo so uniquely lovable.

now, you’re sitting on jo’s porch, you glanced at your phone, waiting for your mom to arrive and take you home, while jo rambled on about how he wasn’t “jealous over his cat”.

his words spilling out clumsily in an attempt to convince both himself and you that he wasn't the slightest bit jealous of mint stealing your attention. "oh, no, not at all, y/n. i’m perfectly fine being an afterthought compared to your relationship with my cat. i mean, who needs affection when mint is in the room, right?"

you couldn't help but smile, seeing through jo’s words. with a mischievous glint in your eyes, you placed a finger gently on his lips, effectively silencing his rambling. before he could protest, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, capturing his surprise.

when you pulled back, you chuckled, intertwining your fingers with his. "oh my god, jo, you don't have to pretend you're not jealous. It's okay to feel that way. but trust me when i say that you have nothing to worry about. i love you for your awkwardness, your sweet nature, and yes, even your adorable bouts of jealousy. it’s all part of what makes you, well, you."

jo’s eyes softened, the tension leaving his board shoulders. a mix of relief and vulnerability reflected in his gaze. "thank you, y/n, i’m just glad to have you by my side, even if there's a cat stealing all the attention."

you smiled, squeezing his hand gently. "remember, jo, my heart belongs to you. no matter how fascinating mint may be, it's you who captivates me the most."

in that moment, the weight of jo’s worries melted away. the warmth of your love embraced him, and he found solace in knowing that he was enough, even with a charming gray feline lurking around.

[daswarschonkaputt]

so. um. i don’t generally post my art, because i have been doing this for way less time than i have been writing and i don’t even really have a style and only have a c- in colour theory. but. i know @yeetlegay​ is incredibly thirsty for some lesbian kinnporsche and i was drawing some at that point. so. here.

(fun fact, i drew this piece ENTIRELY THE WRONG WAY AROUND because it took me a long time to realise that the screenshot i was using as a reference was focused on the MIRROR, ffs kinnporsche i know u love reflections but srsly? to me? on this day? reference here i guess.)

also vegas’s jacket killed me so i will not be taking criticism at this time. i am not a texture artist.

oh and some bonuses beneath the cut (the rough character designs i did)

kinn (eventually redesigned her a little, those eyebrows haunt me) bonus points if you recognise the dress (i changed the colour)

porsche, my beloved. the drawing that started this nonsense, by the way.

porsche again bc i love them

and here’s a bonus pete (petra?) i drew in literally 20 mins bc i want yeetle to suffer, and i know they’re looking for that sweet sweet vegaspete lesbian content. (the proportions are a little off but shhhhhh it’s a rough design, i’ll chuck it out and start over if i do proper art.)

i use clip studio paint exclusively for digital art and as such abuse all its various tools such as 3d models for pose references, vector layers and the vector eraser, the oil paint brush (beloved), and ofc, the one tool i would die without, perspective rulers. it’s not cheating. it’s just using all the resources available to me.

not pictured: me frantically googling bras bc i could not remember what they looked like; me also frantically googling businesswear woman bc my brain just leaves my body whenever i do art. i own both of those, by the way. also if u think i can draw hands you’re unaware that i actually just take selfies of my own hands in the appropriate pose and then trace them.

anyway, please be nice.

[ronkeyroo]

nsbdhdhd you are currently one of my biggest inspirations, I especially love the way you do lineart, shading and... HANDS. Your hands are so good, do you have any tips on drawing them?? ♥️

Dude, thats!!! Thats so incredible to hear!!! It pleases my silly heart so and sets my spirit ablaze knowing my absolute top 3 favorite things to draw have been acknowledged and able to light such a spark within you!

Oh my goodness, hell yeah I do, scoot close and listen up!

I've always had a big fixation on hands since 1) They've always been a very important, secondary best tool aside the face when expressing emotion! And 2) I hail from the beloved depths of YuGiOh madness where hands are constantly involved and drawn in epic focus & angles so I've had a big arrange of visuals to study from!

(One of my favorite YGO animators actually published a study book on how to draw hands, so thats an amazing resource too!)

📝 Now for the actual tips, which I doubt will be original (forgive me ;_;) The best I can suggest is practice by trace and break it down to shapes!

Take cool pics of your hands, pose yourself or find awesome reference shots you can directly trace over so you can introduce yourself to the way the hand is built and develop some muscle memory (make sure to pay attention and /feel/ the direction of the lines and how they connect) and then? Start breaking it down into quick simple shapes so its easier for you to follow up on the physical buildup! Do so even DIRECTLY on the reference picture so you can study the basic skeleton behind it!

After you get a basic feel of it, start implementing what you learned without the reference while spicing it up with your preferred styles/ attention to details!

I know it sounds simple in theory and that hands are notorious for being difficult to draw at first, but behind every strong passion to learn, burns limitless potential bigger than any obstacle that may be in your way!

Practice is what sharpens you up every single time skill-wise, its not gonna be simple, but it doesnt have to be overly complex either! Its easier to understand something difficult once you break it down into steps, and especially comfortable when you have reference to study from!

Use what you have, gather resources and let them guide you until you can utilize their strength with your own two hands ♥ 🖐️🖐️ You got this!

Thank you so much again for the lovely message anon, for being inspired and for complimenting me and my work so fondly!! 💖

I hope I was able to help/encourage even if but a little bit, take care and dont give up if dem hands get too hard on ya - I was so crusty when I started out myself ;_;) But!!!!!!!!!!!!!! After getting to experience the process with both failure/success combined? The potential that unlocks before you can spark the passion that leads to further improvement, until one day It becomes second nature and the joy behind being able to draw those sexy grabby handz is WORTH it! 🫵

[ghoulsister1]

Marc Warren Characters & Their Reaction To You Owning Squishmallows/Squishables Pt 2

🔍Piet Van Der Valk (Van Der Valk Reboot)🔍

●Is curious about the plushies, wonders why you do collect them. But after explaining to him he'll just roll with it. Shrugs it off if anybody asks about it at work. "It's their own thing, just go with it" is his response.

●Lucienne thinks it's cute and whenever you two meet she always asks what plushie you are on the lookout for, makes a mental note to buy one for you as a gift.

●When you and Piet's relationship starts to bloom more, you bring two of your plushies on to his boat whenever you spend time with him. You become confident enough to leave one behind on the boat. The next day it was still there, safe.

●So you decide to sometimes leave one with him.

●"So, you've moved into the next step of your relationship it seems since their plushie is here" Said Lucienne smirking. Piet rolled his eyes at that but gave a little smirk back.

●He buys one from time to time, sometimes two. He likes hunting for ones that are unique or exclusive, he particularly is fond of the Black Light Squad Squishmallows. He does love Squishable sea creatures too. "They look, goofy" is his comment on them.

●You do gift him a Squishmallow, Steve The Seagull. He tries to play it off, saying "You can have him" until you tell him you already have one of your own or firmly tell him it's for HIM and HIM alone! In the end, he takes the gift with a thank you and kiss to the forehead, blushing a bit as he holds the plushie awkwardly.

●"You live on a boat and go sailing, what better companion to have then a seagull" is your reason for gifting Piet Steve The Seagull. He smilies a bit at that. "Well, that's true" is his answer.

●One time took him to work in the office. Steve has a spot at his desk next to his laptop, just chilling. Of course is protective of the plushie. When Brad feigned reaching to grab the plushie to toss him into the basket Piet looked at him dead in the eyes and just said "Don't". Brad raised his hands up in surrender and walked away.

●Grows fond of his plushie companion, often talks to him on his boat about his latest cases he's working on, even asking for Steve's opinion on different matters. "What do you think eh?" Piet would ask, looking at Steve.

●The plushie became a little popular at the office. Hendrix would often greet the plushie, Cloovis would leave any paperwork for Piet next to Steve in case Piet was out getting coffee and Lucienne would just fawn over it, taking various pictures of it in different parts of the office. Even Brad would take a few pics. Even the newbies!

●In the end, Piet gifts you a bird of your own. The Griffin Squishmallow from the Black Light Squad. "He's gonna keep you company on days when I'm at work, just like Steve keeps me company" Said Piet smiling warmly as you squeal in delight and embrace him in a loving hug that he happily returns.

🦇Dracula (Dracula 2006)🦇

●Looks at them with a curious look, titling his head.

●You explain to him why you love to collect them, he listens intently and takes in everything. In the end he is perfectly fine with them. "If it makes my bride happy then who am I to deny her?" Is The Count's response with a small warm smile. You practically grin and let out a little squeal of joy.

●You move in to Dracula's London home, the large master bedroom perfect space and with such a large gorgeous Queen sized bed, there's enough space for you two and a few plushies. Large plushies have a special corner in the room next to your reading nook.

●He allows you to indulge in your plushie shopping. Does buy some for you, especially exclusive and very rare ones. He is fond of the cute dark plushies collection you have, made up of skeletons, bats and more.

●Some nights are spent cuddling a Squishmallow in bed in your beloved vampire's embrace while he sometimes read aloud to you or just traces soothing circles in your skin as you drift off to sleep.

●You eventually gift him a mini bat Squishmallow. Dracula at first is reluctant to have it near him but eventually grows to keep it nearby with him, evening cuddling it when he's in bat form. Awww!

●On Valentine's, you gift him a Plague Doctor Squishable and Dracula gifts you the Nurse Plague Doctor. You love seeing the two plushies propped up together.

●Things do change up when Lucy is turned and joins you. Dracula worries that there may be jealous involved but is relieved to find how quickly you and Lucy both grow close and become best friends. You even allow her to cuddle with a few of your plushies to help her settle in and sleep at times. Dracula grows even more protective of both you and Lucy though sometimes it's Dracula and Lucy that grow more protective of you!

●Despite his bloodthirsty reputation and vicious nature in hunting and killing anyone who stands in his way, The Count has a softness reserved only for his beloved, that includes gifting and helping you in filling your plushie collection.

🌿The Gentleman With Thistledown Hair🌿 (Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell)

●Is visibly bewildered. Like I mean he's befuddled!🤔

●Like no gems? No fancy jewellery? No rare riches you collect? Only, soft toys? Is what he's thinking in his head.

●You explain why, he listens but at the same time is still bewildered. "Humans and their strange habits" are his thoughts on the matter. He looks over at the plushie collection with a air of distaste, scowling at the plushies's smiling faces and cute eyes. You finish your explanation and offer The Gentleman a frown as you notice his scowling at your beloved plushies. 🤨

●"You just have to grow use to them since we are partners sir" You Say unyielding as The Gentleman frowns at you but ultimately says nothing and somewhat agrees to let the situation be. But that doesn't stop him from causing some form of mischief.😑

●He first tries to bargain with you. "You have pictures of horses, you are fond of horses. I can gift you a gorgeous and most noble purebred steed with a beautiful engraved saddle with gold trimmings!" Said The Gentleman joyfully, eyes gleaming. 🤩

●"But I live in the city and I have no stable sir" You Replied. The Gentleman frowns but you suggest in buying a small horse which The Gentleman smiles at that notion.🐴

●Only for The Gentleman to frown and scowl when you open up a package from some online shop and showed off Lily The Horse from the Squishmallow Kentucky Derpy set that you ordered online. You smile warmly as you cuddle Lily and grinned at The Gentleman. 😁

●I don't know if Faeries really sleep, possibly not I mean The Gentleman dances all night at the balls at Lost Hope but if you manage to convince him to lie next to you in bed for a cuddle, expect for him to delicately pick up the plushies on the bed and then unceremoniously toss them off the bed. You frown and shoot a glare at him, to which The Gentleman raises an eyebrow at you with a look that just says "What?" In a sly way. He knows what he did!😏

●I fully think he will be jealous to see you cuddling the plushies more. He will just then wrap his arms around you tight and hold you. "Why cuddle those fabric creatures when you have me, my dear?" The Gentleman would ask. You can't help but blush and smile softly at The Gentleman's obvious jealously of your soft squishys. It's kinda cute.💚

●You do assure The Gentleman that you care for him deeply and that you hope he cares for you in return in some way and that he doesn't have to worry. 💚

●The Gentleman plays it off though. "Me jealous? Nonsense my dear!" He would say but of course he's jealous. But he tries to play nicely when the plushies are involved, though he stills tosses them off the bed and one time tried to hide them away. Thankfully Stephen always finds them and returns them to their place in your bedroom.😊

●"Really sir, Y/N cares for these soft plushies. I dread to think how upset she'd be if anything were to happen one of them. She even saves up extra money just to treat herself to buying one or three" Explained Stephen. It was then, The Gentleman had an idea. Since you and him are partners and he loves to gift the people he takes an interest in, The Gentleman decides to help you grow your plushie collection despite his repulsion of them.☺️

●So to your pleasant surprise, you wake up to find a cute Squishable Woodland Plague Nurse on your bed. You grinned excitedly and hugged the cute cottagecore Plague Nurse. Then The Gentleman appeared, he smirked warmly at you before you ran to embrace him in a hug. He felt a warmth in his heart at that.🥰

●But of course you did question if this "gift" had something attached. There was an old saying that "you must never accept gifts from the Faeries". 😬

●The Gentleman scoffed and smirked at that. "We have worked together for a long time now have we not my dear? Have I ever deceived you once?" Asked The Gentleman. You smile and confirm he hasn't since you don't ask for anything that does require some sort of bargain or deal. ✨️

●The Gentleman looks for specific plushies. Of course lots of the plushies he picks are exclusive and special, ones that are rare and hard to find, ones that are beautifully designed like with some bright colours, glittery parts and ones that are quite magical, like unicorns and dragons. You eventually gift him a plushie. If it's a Squishmallow, it's Mint The Horse because well the green colour. If it's a Squishable, it's the King Raven. "Not Raven King, King Raven" You Said when The Gentleman snarls at it before slightly relaxing. "At least this King knows who's really in charge of Lost Hope" Said The Gentleman smiling. You smile happily. 💚

🩷Part 3 Coming Soon!🩷

[mark-of-chrysus]

#10

Once was already too much. Twice was beyond cruelty. Thrice...thrice was not meant for the human mind to comprehend.

So when you have to do it a thousand times and then some you become rather desensitized to certain things that could make others writhe.

That's how Daniel found himself looking up at the paling faces of his friends, vaguely aware that his body wasn't supposed to be able to bend that way. There were tears, of course, pleading for him to say awake, to hold on until the ambulance arrived. The worst part though was the reassurances, because both parties knew by that point that they were just wishful thinking.

Like, no Zack, I just got hit by a truck going over 200 km/h, I'm not going to be okay! The bloodied boy tried to voice these words but they only came out as strangled moans, which elicited more sobs and, to his everlasting indignance, shushing.

"Nnnghn hngh!" (Don't shush me!)

"It's going to be okay."

"Mnghnh mnmnth nghgh ghngfngh mnghnghhtt! mnggggg hnghnght mthght." (Vasco, I adore you but I'm literally twisted like play-doh and I think I can feel my bones trying to escape my body and form their own army for world domination!!)

"Shh, just hang on."

Danny shot him a dirty look, though he had to guess which one of his friends the bald white egg shushing him was. Probably Jin, he had always been a little bitch like that. If he squinted the alien-like thing looking down on him was pretty similar to the dumbass.

"Mhnh mgthhhhh-." (Bitch if you shush me one more-)

"Shhh" Zack placed his finger on his lips, before quickly retracting his hand and massaging the bite marks on his pointer with what was supposed to be aggravation. The tears and snot running down his face ruined the image.

Finally, through the constant ringing in his ears, Daniel could distinguish the sound of sirens. People shuffled around him and someone tried to get his attention, but their voice turned to mush in his ears. He threw one last look at his friends and reached towards Jay through the paramedics.

"Mnh nhghn Macarena mngh." (Bae, you need to play Macarena at my funeral!)

And with that, the world went black. Then white, then black again. Then he came upon himself, literally.

"They did a pretty good job with my body, you can't even tell that half of these are missing" He poked at one of his limbs, his translucent finger going right through it. There was no bone, just a metal rod kipping the arm in place.

Danny shuddered and retracted his hand as if he had been burned. No matter how many times he ended up as a ghost it never got less weird touching things. He shrugged and floated upwards, passing through the lid of the casket and angling his body so that he no longer felt like he was lying down. Gravity didn't apply to ghosts, so getting his body to sit straight was really tricky until you got the hang of it.

The venue was pretty packed, with people balling their eyes out. They were all dressed in black and looking at a picture of him smiling that had been propped on a stand near his casket. In the front row was his mother, at whose appearance he cringed.

It never got easier seeing her so utter;y devastated, but that was always the way it went when he died, his bigger body would vanish without a trace, and his smaller one would remain, lifeless. His eyes scanned over the other people at the venue trying to get the image of her dull eyes and sunken cheeks out of his mind.

Next to his mother was his beloved jay. Oh, how he wanted to wrap his arms around the boy and wipe those tears that never stopped rolling down his exquisite face! Instead, he caressed his darling's cheek lovingly, making the boy shudder at the feeling of sudden coldness. He didn't dare linger, unable to bare the heartbreaking sight of his lover's grief.

If Daniel had been drinking he would have done a spit-take right then and there. (Was it disrespectful to spit at your own funeral?)

Nestled between a sobbing Crystal and a mostly-unbothered Kouji was Diego Kang himself, having a whispered conversation with an ashen-faced Gun. The latter must've taken the death of his masterpiece and the subsequent disappearance of Daniel's bigger self as quite the blow. 'He did waste a lot of time training me and seemed very eager to get taller me to be his...something, whatever that was...' the boy mused, making his way across from them and to the audio system. He didn't have time to ponder such things. He was a ghost on a mission.

Possessing humans was rather simple if tiring, but messing around with electronics had always been a favorite of his whenever he ended up as a wandering specter. The speakers, placed strategically in the four corners of the room, simultaneously crackled to life, startling the people in attendance, before:

Dale a tu cuerpo alegría Macarena Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegría y cosa buena Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena Hey Macarena, ay

Dale a tu cuerpo alegría Macarena Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegría y cosa buena Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena Hey Macarena, ay

Dale a tu cuerpo alegría Macarena Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegría y cosa buena Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena Hey Macarena, ay

Dale a tu cuerpo alegría Macarena Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegría y cosa buena Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena Hey Macarena, ay

Dale a tu cuerpo alegría Macarena Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegría y cosa buena Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena Hey Macarena, ay!

[just-miru]

I posted 23,629 times in 2022

That's 23,489 more posts than 2021!

1,195 posts created (5%)

22,434 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@coffeeandconfusion

@terrence-self-ships

@irummna

@/shinekittenace

@/poormeowmeowcollector

I tagged 12,385 of my posts in 2022

Only 48% of my posts had no tags

#blueycapsules - 1,733 posts

#the lovable bastard &lt;3 - 1,727 posts

#my beloved - 942 posts

#sillies you'll look again - 921 posts

#william afton - 750 posts

#aaaahhh!! :dd - 526 posts

#dave miller - 490 posts

#so true - 459 posts

#irummna answers - 430 posts

#hehe yesss - 404 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#jesse we need to thank me tho for the first time in two weeks and i have a question for the silly little picture above the other hand oh my

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

[Blueycapsules]

Dave Miller x reader

-------------------------------------------------------------

i got this idea from a small one-shot with Ayano Aishi written by Ck_TvN on Wattpad :D

since our boi Dave is on my mind constantly, i decided to give it a shot and write a small x (gender neutral) reader fanfic with him because yes :D

not to mention, there is almost nothing for/with him out there :(

with Blueycapsules version of Dave/William, i mean

my first time writing something like this, so it might be total shit, but it doesn't matter :D

also, Dave might be a bit ooc since i haven't done anything like this before, so yeah

there is a first time for everything, so here we go-

[tw: small mention of alcohol (wine) | possible typos and/or other small mistakes | also, it's first-person point of view, so no pronouns are used for the reader - idk, though i should mention it | nothing else, only crack | fluff | one-shot]

[word count: 1,050 words | 5,274 characters]

[first published: 14.02.2022]

[slightly edited: 16.02.2022]

-------------------------------------------------------------

untitled

chatter filled the small hotel room, muffling the small TV in front of us. sitting on a pretty comfy, brownish couch, a bottle of wine and two glasses on the table in front of it, me and Dave talk about everything and anything that comes to our minds as we wait for Phil and Jeremy to come back with the-

honestly, i don't even remember what they said they were going after. oh well-

we've grown pretty close to each other in the short period of time we have worked together - it's like we know each other for years. still, as we talk and talk, the time passes, and the conversation starts to die out, we both focused on whatever is playing on the TV; some sort of drama involving a woman and a vampire.

i mostly stare at the screen, lost in thought, not paying attention to what's happening between the two anymore.

bringing the glass to my mouth, i take a small sip of wine. 'it's kinda sweet' i think, then take another sip.

Dave looks towards me

"so... yer single?" he asked out of nowhere, with a playful tone and a small glint of what seemed to be hope in his icy blue eyes - his usual shit-eating grin getting even wider as i choked on my drink. 'why was he asking that out of the sudden?' i thought to myself.

facing away from me, he takes a sip from his drink, eyeing me from the side while waiting for my answer, grin still on.

trying to re-composture myself, i clear my throat a bit, a small grin of my own starts tugging at the corners of my lips

"as a matter of fact, i am not."

i answer with such fake confidence that i am a little surprised he didn't seem to notice it. that, or he decided to play along with my silly game.

"who might the fella be?" he asked, moving his gaze away from me towards the TV, its lights dancing over his features.

my eyes focus on the half-empty glass in my hand as i say quietly "oh... no one, really..." looking over at him, i see his eyes still glued to the TV screen, head resting on his hand, no trace of the previous grin left on it.

"..."

See the full post

327 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

#4

for my very cool and awesome mutuals

[image/edit not mine]

391 notes - Posted May 10, 2022

#3

i mean-

yESS!!! gimmie!!! >:D

671 notes - Posted February 28, 2022

#2

See the full post

969 notes - Posted March 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

sillies look-

found a silly picrew :D

silly tags (no pressure, of course!): @coffeeandconfusion, @terrence-self-ships, @chuuyas--boo, @oc-x-cannon-on-main, @ninasrandomships, @just-slightly-unhinged, @spideygal and whoever whoever wanna join :D

1,672 notes - Posted August 8, 2022

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