#their glorious height difference

[looney-just-like-her-tunes]

if height difference, why no wall sex?

[crimsononiarataki]

 📐

+ 5'5

Height Comparing!

"Heh, you're so tiny, sweetheart."

Of course, the Oni was well aware of the fact that he was considerably larger than she was already. That didn't mean he cared any less.

[kitscutie]

omg if you’re still wanting requests for coryo, maybe sm like he’s mentoring reader instead of lucy gray (she is safe and sound in 12 dw!) and they get reunited after r wins the games? maybe by some kind of fluke? i’ll leave it up to you bc i love everything you write babes <3

money, power, glory (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none!

summary: coriolanus snow is your mentor, unlike the others he has a drive for your survival - it quickly becomes clear your bond goes above mentor and tribute.

a/n: this is not part of the snow and roses series but part two is coming very soon -hope you enjoy! also thank you so much to this anon - you're a cutie!

word count: 3.6k

join my taglist here!

The train ride to the Capitol was dark and lonely. It felt as though everybody had already found friends or were close to their fellow District tribute, yours wanted nothing to do with you.

Seeing as you were from twelve you were thin and weak, you knew that, you could feel it in the way your stomach rumbled on a loop every day or the way your head spun when you stood up but you never thought one of your own would turn their back on you.

You didn't think you stood a chance, simply another pawn in the Capitols game but still you had hope.

When the train stopped it jolted, tipping you over had you been stood up like Thornton your fellow Twelve tribute. He wasn't muscly but more so burly, it was clear his family was among the wealthier back home but compared to the Capitol it was nothing.

You stood up from your small corner, cowering away from the sunlight which blinded you upon the doors opening. You heard yells, presumably from your fellow tributes or even the 'peace keepers' as they tried to calm the crowds.

Below you, you saw a flash of red which stood out from the white uniforms and wall to floor grey cement.

Upon closer inspection snow white hair lay atop his head, prominent and proud.

Thornton jumped out of the box on his own accord, not prompted by the guards, nor the boy below you, simply motivated to get into the Hunger Games.

Your head slowly peered out from the box and that's when his eyes met yours, strikingly blue they seemed out of place in such a colourless setting.

"Welcome to the Capitol." He stuttered out, holding a rose which matched his hair out to you, it was beautiful, nothing you had ever seen back home.

"Thank you. Could you-." You began to ask for his help out of the train which staggered above the ground just below half of your height, though he realised quickly, holding your waist as he gently placed you on the ground in front of him.

Finally out of your cage you took the rose from his calloused fingers, admiring it in all it's beauty. It reminded you of him, soft and subtle yet powerful as it stood tall on it's stalk.

"This is beautiful." You said, it came out in something similar to a whisper, your body still adjusting to the new setting. "You look different," You said as you glanced around at the tributes in dirty hand me downs and the guards in plaster white uniforms. "Who are you?" You asked.

"I'm your mentor." He smiled charmingly, it seemed second nature to him.

"Where are the other mentors?" You once again asked, unsure if this was new or simply something you had missed as you sat watching the games between your fingers.

"Well, I'm not supposed to be here but, I'm sure greeting you falls in my line of duty." He said. "Taking care of you." He added which sent butterflies wild in your stomach. He was doing his job you reminded yourself but nobody back home was quite this attractive nor this attentive. You had never been taken care of. Always independent to survive.

You said nothing more, taking in all of his glorious features until a peacekeeper grabbed you arm, taking you with the rest of the tributes into an armoured van. You were once again alone.

You watched in surprise as just moments later your mentor jumped in behind you, standing against the back wall as if to not be seen in a packed and confined space.

"Hi." He said, realising he stood out like a sore thumb. It almost made you chuckle - his blatant fear but then you realised you should be much more scared.

"What's the matter pretty boy, you in the wrong cage?" Said Reaper. He was a tribute you admired, he was brave and strong and seemingly had a deep care for his friend Dill.

"No. This cage is delightful." He smiled. You were impressed by his natural appeal, well to you at least. Every word which came out of his pale lips had you hanging on by a thread.

With that Reaper had had enough, slamming him against the wall with power. "I'll kill you." He said convincingly.

"He'll do it too. He killed a Peacekeeper back in Eleven." Dill spoke as she stared into nothingness.

"I say we all kill him." Added Bobbin as he now stood up too, the other Tributes speaking out in agreement. You began to panic, he was your only source of companionship, of opportunity to leave the Capitol in one piece and here he was about to be ripped to shreds before the Games even begun.

"He's my mentor, could you please not kill him?" You asked pathetically as you attempted to stand between him and Reaper. A feeble attempt though an attempt none the less.

"How come you get a mender?" Said Coral, dirty gaze set now upon you.

"Mentor." He corrected her. "You each get one." He finished, hoping this would calm them in their attempt to kill him.

"And we'll all just believe you, huh? Why does Twelve here get special treatment." Coral replied, now out of her seat and very much in your face as she squished your cheeks between her grimy fingers.

"I'm not special, just lucky I suppose." You shrugged feeling heavily intimidated and under scrutiny by all of their hungry gazes. Eager to pull blood from you in this very moment.

The room went silent and at first you didn't realise why, until you felt your cage begin to shake, slowly tilting towards the ground. Your mentor's hands once again wrapped around your waist though this time from behind you and your own reached down to hold onto his wrists, having no stability.

You all screamed as you fell down onto hard wood chips and damp mud. Eyes were once again blinded by the harsh sunlight as you adjusted to wherever you now were.

A mans voice echoed around your new cage - how kind of them to give you multiple in such little time - seemingly introducing himself to the crowd around you before he spotted the red uniform.

"Excuse me, yes you sir, in the red! Who are you and why are you in there with them, we are live!" He asked, hair gelled to perfection to one side.

You grabbed your mentors hand as he stood frozen in his spot clearly unsure what to do, you however saw an opportunity, an opportunity to stand out.

"May I introduce you to my neighbours?" He asked sarcastically as though he really hated the people filming you like you wanted to be here.

With that the pair of you walked over, but not before he took the rose from your free hand and tucked it behind your ear. It burned under the warmth of his skin, not having had any form of physical touch for as long as you can remember.

"Hi. How do you do, my name is Coriolanus Snow, and this here is my tribute Y/N L/N from District Twelve." He said partly for the cameras partly introducing himself to you and you to him. He already knew your name. He had watched the reaping's, seen you cry in weakness.

"Hello." You mumbled partly shuffling to hide behind his body. Not used to such attention.

He focused his attention on you, firing questions at you over and over again until you had had enough. "More on my mentor, seemed he's the only one who bothered to show up." You said and the boy that you now knew to be Coriolanus rubbed his thumb back and forth over your hand as he sensed your discomfort being Infront of so many prying eyes.

"Well I would love to ask him some questions but it seems as though he's about to be whisked away." Lucky said and as soon as the words came out Peacekeepers appeared behind the pair of you grabbing him by the biceps and beginning to drag him away.

"Hey." You held onto him for one second longer. "Thank you for everything Coriolanus Snow. But uh, could you please bring me some food? I can feel my bones turning into dust as we speak." You said. He slightly chuckled at this but no less nodded.

With that, you were once again alone.

"Y/N!" You heard your name from behind the rock you sat against, instantly recognizing the voice to be Coriolanus Snow.

"That for me?" You asked as he pulled out a few pieces of food wrapped in tissue in front of you. He handed it to you through gaps in the fence, wordlessly answering your question. "Thank you." You said as you eagerly stuffed your face, this being the first meal you had eaten in days, no weeks.

"They not feed you back in Twelve?" He asked, concerned.

"No. We don't exactly get that luxury." His question surprised you, you assumed it was common knowledge that food was few and far between in the outer Districts yet here he was, surprised. "Seems your friend already knows that." You added as you watched a girl in a matching uniform to his teasing Brandy.

"She is not my friend she is poison with perfect teeth." He answered and yet again it sounded so perfect. He knew just what to say to please you, comfort your mind as you wondered at what point he would turn on you. "Listen, you can't share this with anyone. This is my only chance to help you and they-" He said discreetly pointing to the tributes scattered around you, "Are only going to use you."

"Not like I've got anyone to share with. Don't think I'm very popular." You said, defeated. You supposed that out of anyone, you didn't want to befriend the people who would shortly be wishing death upon you but instead the man before you who would hold your hand until the moment you walked through that door.

"Maybe not with them but out here you have a chance. I've made some suggestions, I might be able to get the audience to send you gifts. Food and water. You just need to play into their game, win them over." He said, face against the fence as he wished to keep this information between the two of you. An advantage.

"I don't want to play their game, the same game that got me here in the first place? I don't think charming anyone is my forte anyway." You once again deprived yourself of any credit, picking at the skin around your nails.

"You're more charming than you think Y/N. I'd bet on it." He said, gaze digging deep into your soul. No one had ever complimented you before never mind in such a blatant way. You knelt down, tired of standing and he went with you continuing your conversation.

"Dill reminds me of my sister, before she passed. So sick and weak, I hate to think of her in a place like this." You shared, feeling vulnerable to him in such a short time.

"I'm sorry." He said genuinely.

"You seem like a good man Coriolanus. Would've been nice to meet you outside of this cage." You said, tapping on the metal bars before letting it settle there.

"Mhm." He agreed, tilting his head sympathetically and after moment of what must have been deliberation he wrapped his own hand around yours. It warmed your skin, chilled by the cold iron beneath your palm.

Your sweet moment was cut off by Arachne's scream as Brandy had enough of her teasing, smashing the bottle and using it to slice her neck.

You stared in horror, this was what you were up against in that arena, you stood no chance.

Coriolanus leaped into action, comforting the bleeding girl while Peacekeepers shot Brandy down. In all of your years alive you had never witnessed such violence and it left you shaking, even more so as the bullets narrowly missed Coriolanus' head.

The Peacekeepers grabbed his arm, once again pulling him away from you, your heart beating in his direction.

The next day you were all placed in a large circular room. You and your fellow tributes shackled to a table while the mentors sat proudly, postures straight before you.

You were allowed to discuss game plans for the main event but also for a televised special where the Capitol could get to know you. Nut it wouldn't really be you, just a shell of your former self.

"I'm sorry about your friend." You sympathised, he was clearly upset, scared you weren't sure but his energy was different to his hopeful exterior from yesterday.

"Thank you. Are you doing okay?" He deflected, though his care seemed and was genuine. He cared about you more than the way a mentor cares for the tribute. Your connection went deeper.

"I'm scared Coriolanus. You saw what those tributes can do yesterday. I'm nothing compared to them! I've never even killed a spider." You cried out in desperation, hands shaking where they were tied to the table.

"I'm scared for you, Y/N. I don't want to lose you in there, so I guess that makes two of us." He replied, soothing you. "But no matter how scared you are you have to perform for them in the interviews later. Pretend to be someone else or be yourself it doesn't matter but this is the last chance to make them like you. Didn't take much for you to win me over." He added.

"I- I just can't Coriolanus. I'm no performer. I'm no different to them just weaker and a character in their entertainment." You answered, slowly admitting defeat.

"You have to be brave, Y/N. For me, okay?" He begged, once again placing his hand over your own.

"I'll try." You decided. You either died of embarrassment or an axe to the face and you knew which you proffered.

"Snow. Let's go!" Shouted Casca, the creator of the games. A man you loathed.

"You'll be okay." He said before he left his chair leaving you to sit in the large room as the other debated their strategies.

Later on once you were allowed to view the arena he returned. Instantly walking in stride beside you as if he never left.

The arena was void of light except the red beams which pointed out the entrance. It was eerie and honestly a fabrication of your worst nightmares.

This time in your fear you felt no hesitation to grab onto his hand, and he grabbed your back, linking you fingers with a squeeze which said to you 'it's okay' without saying anything at all.

Seeing the cameras you released it, not wanting unnecessary attention upon yourselves.

The gates closed behind you with a loud clang, leaving you in the darkness and you stumbled back into his chest, the only thing keeping you from a breakdown being the steady beat of his heart beneath his chest.

Shutters on each wall began to rise letting in the natural sunlight outside but yet you were still very much in another cage.

While the other tributes decided their alliances you stuck by Coriolanus' side and he had no objections. "Coriolanus you can't met me die in here. I've got so much left to do." You begged, clutching the opening of his red suit.

"I wont let you die, Y/N. Even if it's the last thing I do." He replied, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. His words were laced with truth, knowing his plans to bend the rules in order to keep you alive.

The moment was short lived as the centre of the arena exploded, rubble and smoke flying everywhere including into your forehead as you felt blood trickle into your eye.

Both you and Coriolanus ran, though he was seconds too slow as a pillar fell onto his leg trapping him against the floor. While the other tributes ran having little regard for their mentors you ran back, pulling it off of him with every last ounce of power in your body.

Your heart ached hearing his cried but also with the pain that this was most likely the last time you would see him before the games as the Peacekeepers found you and dragged you back to the 'zoo' before you could attempt escape like the others.

"Y/N." You heard your name whispered into the darkness of the night. You hadn't slept, not since the thought of Coriolanus being dead crossed your mind and so it hadn't taken much to catch your attention.

"You're alive, thank god." You cried. Seeing his face untouched calmed your racing heart.

"The bombs, they changed everything. I've been in there, you can hide, the floors gone. You can hide until it's safe. Run when it starts and don't come out until it's safe, please Y/N. Don't go for the weapons." He begged to you. You had planned to hide in the first place but his desperation for your survival warmed your heart.

"Thank you Coriolanus snow. For taking care of me. Just like you promised." You said to him, tears beginning to fall from your eyes, the same tears you hadn't let fall since the train arrived in the Capitol.

"Just like I promised." He smiled. "You saved my life in there Y/N." He added.

"I'm sorry." You said as you couldn't hold back your desperate tears anymore. You were sorry you wouldn't succeed for him, sorry this was the last time you would see him, sorry that your heart ached for him.

"It's okay, It's okay." He soothed you. Wiping your tears with his embroidered handkerchief. "I'm gonna get you out of there. I promised after all, right?" He repeated his earlier declaration of promise, it meant everything to you and yet nothing. At the end of the day your survival came down to you and you didn't know if you could handle blood on your hands.

"Is this all real? Between you and me, do you really-" You began to ask, though he cut you off.

"I care about you, Y/N. Really. No amount of money could make me do this for you, risk it all. The things you wanted to do, wanted to live for? I want to do them with you. I want to give you the life you deserve." He said and that was all the confirmation you needed, the feelings you were having were real. Not part of the game, not faked for the cameras.

He was here in the middle of the night to help you.

"We are gonna win this, Y/N. We are gonna win this together."

It had now been fifty four days and counting since you had last seen him. The games had come and gone, what you thought was luck leaving you a victor.

Days had been boring since Coriolanus Snow left your life. You returned to what you had left behind in District Twelve, friends, no family and a wooden shack you called a home.

Your heart longed to see him, more than anything in this world you wished to feel his hand in yours one more time. Hear his reassuring words one more time though now you needed them to comfort your nightmares.

Today was the same as every day had been. Get up, bathe in a bucket, eat vegetables you found in the forest and then read the same books you had for the past eighteen years. It was all you had but now more than ever it felt good to be stuck in that cycle instead of stuck in a cage of people who called for your death.

A knock at your door at mid-day startled you. It was unusual to get visitors in District Twelve - everybody keeping to themselves and yet something dragged you to answer.

Opening the door you saw a figment of your dreams. White hair, blue eyes and pale skin, yet they were too real and close to be something your brain created.

"Y/N L/N, you are a sight for sore eyes." He said, his voice like butter in your ears.

"Coriolanus?" You asked before he tackled you into a hug, hands gripping you like you would slip through his fingers at any moment in time. "How- what." You began to ask.

"I was sent to Eight to be a Peacekeeper but I used my last cents to get sent here instead, then I just asked around to find you. Find my girl." He said as he held your face between his hands, checking you over for injuries. The last time he was you you were injured and cowering in the arena, begging to be set free.

"You found me." You whispered, diving in to kiss him. He responded immediately, wasting no time in curling his lips into yours. You fought for dominance but ultimately you let him take over, needing to let go for once.

"I missed you so much." You whimpered in both pleasure and pain as he kissed and nibbled on your neck. Dream becoming reality. "I begged with every last but of luck within me that I'd see you again." You confessed, bringing his face up to kiss you once more.

"And here I am." He smiled, staring into your eyes, breathing the same air as you.

"I thought my life ended that day, in that arena. Losing myself, then losing you." You admitted, eyes similar to the last time you saw him, glassy.

"Y/N, Y/N." He chuckled, "Our life has only just begun."

TAG LIST: @savannahsteen, @shine101, @tfimherewhy, @iloveyou3000, @summerli-u, @coconut-dreamz, @serrendiipty, @zucchinimalfoy, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @-ice-heart, @aza-writes, @bellstwd, @kaitlyn2907, @wheepsworld, @sarahskywalker-amidala, @velvet-spider, @gloryekaterina, @prettyinsatiable, @bduchrnskei, @riddlerloveb0t, @girlalwaysathome, @thegoldenskies, @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @charmed-asylum, @suvgs, @podiumprincess

if your user doesn't have a line below it, it did not come up with a username so please make sure it's correct! <3

[vexwerewolf]

Showrooms of LANCER Manufacturers

IPS-N

IPS-N showrooms are what you'd get if you slammed a truck dealership, a hardware store, a camping gear shop and a sports bar together in the Bass Pro Shops Pyramid. We're talking row upon row of shelves stocked with the most precision-engineered engine parts you can print on one side of the floor, and on the other, durable, hard-wearing survival gear. Camping stoves you can run off of your mech's coldcore, sleeping bags that'll survive a HEX charge, automatic camo cloth, the works.

Right down the middle, you've got the mech floor. They've got the Tortuga. They've got the Blackbeard. They've got the Drake. They've got the Lancaster and the Kidd. They've got the Vlad (they put a chain-link fence covered in DO NOT TOUCH signs around that one after the infamous CFO's 10-year-old Incident). They've even got the Raleigh, kinda tucked away a little bit behind the water feature, but it's there!

Everything on the shop floor is ruggedized to the point that you could take a mech's fist to it without leaving a dent - and they sometimes do that to demonstrate the engineering quality. There's a giant screen hanging from the ceiling displaying constant advertising for the mechs and IPS-N in general, usually striding purposefully through idyllic Diasporan wilderness or doing hard, honest work like starship loading or construction. There's a mixtape of the most famous bro-country hits playing 24/7.

Smith-Shimano Corpro

In a word: bespoke. Everything in this place is custom. Each and every desk is individually built according to the height of the salesperson who sits behind it, and manages to be a unique art piece without disrupting the overarching aesthetic of the showroom. Whenever there's a change of staff on the sales floor, they rearrange every single desk so that they're still in ascending order.

All of the salespeople are inhumanly pretty, by the way. This atelier has its own fully-staffed makeup and wardrobe team. You're part of a work of art when you work for SSC. Everything and everyone gleams. Even the most chic visitors might feel underdressed in the midst of all this splendour.

The mechs aren't just there to be sold, they're there to be part of the experience. You might see a Monarch holding up the ceiling like the titan Atlas himself. A Mourning Cloak might be posed provocatively like a nude statue. That Swallowtail - is it in a slightly different position every time you see it, or is that just its camouflage decals? How does it always manage to be just inside your line of sight, even when you're looking somewhere else?

They have a catwalk, like you'd see at a fashion show, but it's sized for mechs. If they really think you might make a purchase, they'll queue up the entire performance for you, and you'll get to see a Viceroy strut.

The mix tape for this showroom is a seamless mixture of complex jazz, psychedelic ambient and classical piano music. It's sophisticated and mysterious.

Harrison Armory

Imagine if America could be a showroom. Harrison Armory mech outlets are part dealership, part museum. Every mech is in its own diorama, depicting some heroic event in the Armory's glorious history. A phalanx of Sherman Mk. Is holds the line against some Diasporan slaver-tyrant's army. A Saladin fends off Karrakin hordes during the Interest War. The Genghis Mk. II? Oh, that diorama isn't open right now, it had to be closed for *coughcoughcough* and *coughcoughcough* but let's move on shall we heh heh

Everyone who works here has been in the Colonial Legion at some point, and knows every specification of the mechs they sell off by heart without even looking at their slate. If possible, the Armory tries to employ people who have actual combat experience with the mechs they're selling; people who can speak to the efficacy of their technology first-hand. It's one of the many programs which the Armory has open for retired veterans; it's easy work for decent pay, good benefits and it looks great on your Social.

The music here is a constant loop of patriotic Armory anthems. If you've ever heard the music from Starship Troopers, or the Outbreak of War from Star Ocean, you'll know what I'm talking about.

HORUS

Being a decentralized omninet collective with no official branding or even consistent manufacturing standards, it should come as no surprise that HORUS has no showrooms.

ERR:CONNECTION_INTERRUPT

CartesianWhisper: P55555t CartesianWhisper: Ignore that 5hithead CartesianWhisper: They don't have any idea what they're talking about CartesianWhisper: You want a mech, kid? CartesianWhisper: And I'm not talking the tra5h the Purv5 try to 5ell you CartesianWhisper: Or that overpriced garbage 55C want5 you to mortgage your genetic5 for CartesianWhisper: Or the macho trucker bull5hit IP5-N i5 trying to hawk CartesianWhisper: I'm talking about the REAL DEAL CartesianWhisper: The PROPER 5TUFF CartesianWhisper: Log on to rgx0582.node-7.c4l.omni CartesianWhisper: I'll 5how you what true power mean5 >:]

[nessa007]

Ariel and Eric's height difference is absolutely glorious! THE LITTLE MERMAID (2023) Dir. Rob Marshall

[aphroditelovesu]

Hey, i'm also from brazil and i love the way you write! Taking advantage of the fact that I saw you talking about yandere apollo pjo, could you do some headcanons about what he would be like due to the differences? like, in today's world. Would he look at your phone or something?

❝ ☀️ — lady l: it's a headcanon, in a way, but also an imagine, a combo of both! I ended up geting excited and focusing more on the platonic part and I hope everything it's! I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes!

❝tw: obsessive and overprotective behavior and fluffy.

❝☀️pairing: yandere pjo!apollo x gender neutral!reader.

❝word count: 742.

Apollo is the god of poetry and will always be writing the most beautiful poems for you. All of his hymns will be dedicated to you and any pop influence he will use as inspiration to worship you. Apollo dedicates each verse to you, each word carefully thought out in the overwhelming love that the god feels, transforming pop influences into hymns of worship.

In the intervals between his divine exploits, Apollo is captured by the passion of modern melodies. Transforming pop influences into passionate songs, his lyres resonate in heavenly places, echoing the immortal feelings he has for his earthly muse.

Apollo as a divine father is smothering and protective. He doesn't give a damn about the rules that govern the gods, not when it comes to his favorite child. He will distribute gifts, presents and will help and support them in everything he can. Apollo will always make it clear that they are his greatest pride.

As you face challenges and monsters, Apollo protects you, interfering in divine destinies when necessary. The sun god becomes a constant presence, guiding and encouraging his favorite child to embrace its heroic nature. Apollo, the divine father, defies heavenly rules in the name of love for his child, doling out divine gifts and guiding them along the path to greatness.

One day, while you were facing a particularly difficult challenge, Apollo decided to intervene in a more direct way. He descended from Olympus, enveloped in golden light, and appeared at your side. His presence was warm and comforting, like the rays of the sun emanating from his divine form.

"My dear child," Apollo said with a beaming smile. "The time has come for me to join you on this journey. Together, we will face the challenges that present themselves, and I will guide you with my divine light."

Apollo watched with beaming pride as his child flourished under divine tutelage. He guided the mortal steps with the light of knowledge, shaping the favorite's destiny as a sculptor carves a masterpiece. Each of his child's deeds was a glorious echo of the pride Apollo felt, reflected in the rays of sunlight that illuminated his celestial face.

Apolo is very connected to modern technology, oddly enough. He would have a cell phone, the best and most expensive, and it would be full of photos of you. His music playlist would have all genres, an eclectic god, after all, he is also the god of music and appreciates all types, honoring his essence as the god of music.

He wouldn't touch your cell phone unless you allowed it or if he had some kind of suspicion. In this case, you can be sure that the god will search your cell phone in search of something. And he will definitely take selfies of himself to leave for you.

During moments of rest, Apollo shared divine stories and ancestral teachings with you. His words were like ethereal songs, dancing in the air and penetrating your heart. Each narrative was filled with wisdom and profound lessons, like the notes of an eternal melody.

On a starry night, after an especially epic victory over a colossal beast, Apollo gathered the gods and goddesses for a divine celebration on Olympus. Heavenly music filled the halls as everyone rejoiced in their achievements and the union between the divine and the mortal.

At the height of the party, Apollo raised his golden lyre and began to sing a song that transcended the limits of Olympus. His melodious voice resonated, telling the saga of his favorite child, full of courage, triumph and divine love. The song inspired tears of joy in the eyes of the gods and goddesses, witnessing the success of his protégé.

At the end of the performance, Apollo looked at you with pride in his eyes. "My child, you are a masterpiece that surpasses any divine song. Your heart is a melody that enchants the gods and transforms Olympus into a more radiant place. May your journey continue to shine like the stars that adorn the night sky."

Since that day, the bond between you and Apollo has only grown stronger. The god's blessings continued to guide you, while the teachings shared under the stars became a beacon of wisdom on his journey. And so, under the protection and love of Apollo, the heroic epic unfolded, marking destiny with the eternal light of the god of music and poetry.

[thefandomthings]

❝𝐀𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬❞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Aomine Daiki x f!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Suggestive (It's Aomine, duh), fluff

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I need more knb fics, pls. This is my first time writing for Knb, so I hope it's okay

Masterlist

 It will take a lot for Aomine to get into a relationship after his last one, he’ll never admit it but he’s afraid of getting hurt. (Again)

 So consider yourself lucky my dear.

 Daiki is a person who loves something or someone quietly.

 He’ll never really say he loves you out loud unless you haven’t seen each other in a long time or if you/him are having a bad day.

 His love language is physical affection and quality time. He’ll always be touching you with an arm around your shoulders or holding your hand or his hand on your tit.

 Speaking of boobs, well all know he’s obsessed with them. He’ll constantly try and catch you changing, or put his head under your shirt while cuddling just to be near the girls, as he calls them.

 Daiki is also extremely protective over you. He wants to keep you safe all the time. He’s lazy af, but whenever you want to go out just to run and errand he’ll be on his feet ready to go. My man will deck someone for looking at you wrong even in the slightest way.

 He calls you Idiot, dummy, and moron if you do something stupid or dumb. He does it out of love cause he doesn’t want you to get hurt.

 Aomine only uses your first name if you two are having an argument, or having an important conversation. Other than that your are usually called Babe or Baby.

 Your nicknames for him are Bubby/Bubba, Dai, Baby, and Kiki to annoy him.

 You two go on arcade dates at least once a month. Or you two go and kick it at the hoops downtown. Aomine plays a lot of street ball and knows a lot of guys down there.

 If you don’t know how to play basketball, he’ll gladly teach you how.

 If you already know how, you play 1 v 1 all the time, Aomine always ends up winning. But he will help you improve your skills.

 Teases the crap out of you any chance he gets. Loves seeing your flustered face.

 Aomine is totally the type to whisper dirty things in your ear while out in public. Not to mention he will just randomly grope your chest or butt whenever he feels like it.

 He’s also the type to rest his arm on your head not matter your height. He will also mess up your hair and use your head as a joystick whenever you sit between his legs.

 Daiki is a pervert at heart, whenever you are wearing a skirt and come to see him while he sleeps on the rooftop he’ll sneak a peak underneath.

 I feel like he’s a boob and thigh guy all the way. He will happily die between your glorious thighs and tits.

 Randomly leaves bite marks anywhere he wants. Adores when you have hickeys on your neck, fills his ego to the brim watching people comment on the purple bruise on your neck.

 Fucking loves when your wear his extra jersey to his games. It’s the motivation he needs to get going. Will completely crush his opponents just to watch you cheer for him.

 Pouts when you don’t give him his morning kisses or if you get up during your 2hr cuddle sessions when he wakes up.

 I 100% believe he is half Hispanic. He definitely knows Spanish and will call you names like Puta or Pendeja.

 If his mom here’s him call you that just know he’s getting a tongue lashing and the chonclas getting thrown at his head.

 He gets his accuracy from his Mom.

 It takes awhile for his mom to like you, she doesn’t want anyone hurting her baby boy.

 After awhile, she’ll treat you as her own daughter, and even teach you Spanish.

 Bonus if you already know Spanish, that’s a +1 with his mom.

 His dad liked you instantly, you were a lot different then his old girlfriend and welcomed you with open arms.

 Daiki has his dad’s ego, it’s like looking at the same person anytime they compete with each other, which is almost always anything they do.

 Aomine will totally be at any of your games/meets if you play sports. Even if he is late, he’ll be there cheering you on.

 Get’s jealous easily, especially if you talk to Kagami. If looks could kill, Kagami would be dead.

 Will have you against the door of his room, or pinned to the bed whenever he gets jealous. He makes sure you know that you are his and only his.

 His room is a disaster, clothes, old school papers, blankets etc.

 He try’s to clean his room up a bit before you come over. It’s adorable, it usually doesn’t look to much different just the floor was clean cause he moved everything to the corner of his room and covered it with a blanket.

 Loves to get you small gifts. He saves up for months to get you a beautiful promise ring. And what made it even better, you got him a promise bracelet that he wears absolutely everywhere.

 He makes sure to take it off before a game or when does anything that could break it.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Idol Worship.

Pairing: Yandere!Devil x Reader (Christianity).

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Consensual Sex, Size Difference, Implied (Past) Injury To Reader, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Scarring, and Themes of Religious Trauma.

The path to His throne was paved with salt and brimstone.

Smoldering rock burnt into the soles of your feet like ember, taken fresh from the heart of the fire. Living corpses, their rotting flesh deteriorating further with ever fraught breath, laid motionless on either side of the crumbling archway, their milky eyes watching your every stumbling movement. The air was heavy with smoke and sulfur, but the buzzling of unseen insects, the stench of the decay – that was all kept in your peripheral. It was meant for someone else, someone whose crimes were far more violent and far more damning than your own. Your fate was elsewhere.

The ascent was made no easier by your anticipation, the steps carved from black onyx and made steep enough to warrant your immediate and self-inflicted dehumanization, to force you to your hands and knees in your effort to scramble upward – ever upward, as if you hadn’t yet had enough of the blinding sky. Rough granite tore into the skin of your palms, but the agony was minimal, a shadow something greater that would not numb you to more intentional agony. The heat, too, was distant, rolling over you in tender waves and seeping under your skin to coil around your ribs, to weave in and out of ragged tears in your mutilated veins. Something snapped inside your chest as you finished your climb, fresh blood washing over your aching throat, but any pain you might’ve felt faded away as a great hand descended from the clouds of smog and ash, His calloused fingertips digging into your waist, your stomach as He took you up and placed you, gingerly, on His silk-clad thigh. His touch lingered, a thumb running over your scalp as He spoke. “Oh, my glorious one,” His voice was deep and flat and beautiful. “What have they done to you?”

Anything they could. Everything they could. Your body was still plagued with the phantoms of it, the frigid cold of steel and iron against flesh and bone. You tried to speak, but your voice was gone, muted by means beyond your own. You frowned, more frustrated than you were surprised, but He did not share in your disappointment. “They are sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.” After a beat, He added, “I will not be so forgiving.”

His hand began to pull away, but you scrambled after of it, latching onto His wrist in a futile effort to hold Him that much closer. An airy chuckle fell from Him unmoving muzzle – His golden, slit-pupiled eyes remaining focused on some distant point as He took you into His hold once again, lifting you first to His own height. For the first time, he moved in earnest – tilting his head forward and resting his forehead against yours. “The reason the Son appeared was to destroy the Devil’s work, for the thief comes only to steal and destroy.” His breath was cool against your skin, even as anger seeped into His tone. “And now, instead, you are asked to forgive and comfort him, so that he will not be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow.”

It was more of a croak than a proper plea, hoarse and fractured at all the wrong angles. Still, you managed it, your own small hands pressed into the swell of His palm. “Please, my lamb.”

He seemed to catch himself, inhaling sharply as He shook His head. “My apologies, I forget my audience. You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you.” You nuzzled closer to Him, and He allowed you a moment of solace before pulling away, straightening Himself to His most dignified stature. “We have been separated for no short time. Tell me, will you not gratify the desires of the flesh?” A note of humor, a forked tongue allowed to skirt gingerly over your neck. “Will you not allow me to show the length of my devotion?”

You didn’t need to answer, it was a given that you would. His delicate tongue ran over the lacerations on your calves, your thighs - smearing dried blood and soothing open wounds. It flicked upward, lapping at the twin scars on either side of your chest, then the bruises painted across your collarbones, around the base of your throat. His hand shifted, wrapping around your waist, His hold firm and steady as He lowered you onto his length. There were other options – as many shapes and variations as a lustful heart could dream of – but His cock was among His most impressive features. The shaft alone matched your arm in length and your midriff in girth, and yet, it pierced you without resistance, filling you to the brim before He was so much as half-sheathed inside of you. Your knees pressed into his lap, your hand grasping for purchase against his broad chest, but you felt no fear, nor was your exertion necessary in the face of His willingness to serve. He let out a raspy breath, allowing His head to lull back as He thrust gently into you from below. “Earthly one, glorious one,” The pet name fell from His lips like milk and butter and honey. “We will lead each other astray. We will be the force by which the greatest love is defined.”

A growl of a moan as your walls clenched around Him, a sharp snap of His hips. “We will be bound together in perfect harmony,” His hand found the underside of your chin, tilting your head back with only the upmost delicacy. “And those who try to separate us will face only the most just of retribution.”

Your eyes met His, that wonderous gold melting into softened mortality. Where there should have been revulsion, there was only warmth, only light. Foolishly, for a moment, you allowed yourself to scorn the shine of the heavens, to loathe all things that were not Him.

You allowed yourself to believe that you would need nothing else, not so long as His gaze fell upon you.

[aliciagemsilica]

Diasomnia Boy gift s/o an evening gown to attend the NRC & RSA ball tgt Headcanon

Following from my dress sketch design if you haven’t seen it here . They are base from Glorious Masquerade & Playful land events. Basically a sequence I imagine while drawing the dresses XD I also want to mention that when it’s finish 🥺 you can draw it on your oc and even tweak a bit detail to fit your Yuu or OC. It’s meant to be share with everyone, not just my Yuu.

⚠️ Bad English……. I have no idea what is grammar . 😂

╭══• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •══╮

Imagine a ball between NRC and RSA happening maybe sometime after chapter 7. All students are invited but you are troubling since you have no dress to wear. And for the love of the great seven. Your beloved head master, Crowley just allowed you to join in your NRC uniform……….. great! So much for your kindness!!

Guess who will be the photographer and a background character on this event…..hahaha………

Well maybe you whine too much in front of the wishing well. Someone comes up with a plan. A plan that would make you believe in a fairytale once again!

╰══• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •══╯

𝔐𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔲𝔰 🐉

You had to be blind to not suspect anything……

Lately Mal is a bit touchy. Not that he isn’t normally but this is different. Sometimes he holds your wrist while mumbles something while going on a night stroll. Sometimes he stares at you and gets lost in his thoughts. He even stands just in front of you and tries to lift you up once.

You are so confused and a bit embarrassed when he asks about your height so you call for support. The Diasomnia’s family counselor aka. Lilia Vanrouge. You went all the way to Diasomnia dorm without telling anyone and sneak in to see Lilia.

But

…….

…..

…………

Is he………….

Is he dancing with a dress just now??

Surprisingly you just witness your dragon boyfriend practicing a dance with a beautiful dress. He hummed ‘that song’ while spinning with the dress. What a beautiful princess gown with dark green silk. It looks so shiny and smooth, something that would delicately touch her skin while being held in that big palm. Imagine how soft that hand craft lace feels when on your chest. He did not spare any piece of jewellery from his procession. He keep bring in dazzling earrings and necklaces to test it with the gown. He would have use the heart of his collection to craft a piece of accessories for you if he doesn’t want to save it for something later in the year. You can see a magical golden thread and needle weaving delicate patterns on the skirt as he continues the dance. Every angle……Every turn………..Malleus is creating a masterpiece. He did it………..for you…….for his princess.

Your face is burning from the love of this dragon fae. Why does he have to put so much effort into it.

Oh no………now you a mess

You open the Pandora box too early and now you have to live with it while pretending not to know a thing until the day. You bit your lip as Mal smoothly tug a strain of hair behind your ears. You can now understand what he mumbles about……rose gold? Sunshine gold? May be one of his grandma’s jewellery set?? (Oh god no…….that’s tooo far for the first gown Mal lol)

Your heart beat so fast until the evening of the event. Malleus play cool by teasing you and being a nice partner who prepare a gift for you.

Boom! You are now in a matching dress. So those Raven feathers on the hip are supposed to match his shoulder then ah………..you are about to take off the veil since it looks like a bride. Before Malleus could turn grumpy…..Sebek yell and lecturing you about how talented Wakasama are! You human dare to question his sense of fashion? Outrageous! Just because he love you doesn’t mean you can ruin his days of afford to perfect this dress

Woops………tongue slip

Well it’s not like you never know anyway. Just pretend to be surprise so Sebek won’t get a lightning strike okay?

Bonus : she doesn’t want to point out that when she accidentally saw Malleus weaving that dress……. his tail wagging. It’s a secret she gonna take to her grave though

Bonus 2 : Lilia does notice that and brag about how adorable Malleus is. How Malleus has grown to fit in the society in front of the other dorm leader………..Oopsie

Bonus 3 : Malleus learn the hard way not to miss the meeting

𝕷𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖆 🦇

Have you heard of the story of the fairy godmother in Cinderella? Well he won’t just roll out and sing bib bi di bub bi di bo and bang! A nice new dress for you. The old man planned while cuddling you in bed……in sofa…..in the gaming chair(?)

He pretends to be busy with something and hasn't listened to you. Even play dumb and say you look cute in the school uniform. Well it’s not totally a lie since he thinks it’s adorable. Why would he poke on your cheek and nibble your neck while you are in your uniform if it’s not because you are so cute to him.

The truth is, this old bat is as excited as you. He lived through the war time and never got a chance to enjoy a leisure party before. Well it’s just a joint event of 2 schools. It can't compare with how grand the royal ball of the Briar valley held a ball but this is the first time he is going to have his lover join him. He doesn’t have to be alert from enemies. Doesn’t have to command his subordinates to search all the parties involved in this event. Just lay back enjoy the day with you.

He had been trying to recreate that dress in his memories just for you. It was around……..hundred? Two hundred?? Year ago??? He walked past this girl on the street and was stunned by her attire. It’s an elegant dress with black velvet and green emerald. Soft flare neckline covered the black corset. Enough skin to show your radiant but not too much.

Well, He was allowed to give you some hickeys before the day of the ball. It got enough fabric to cover all his naughtiness. Wink*

However he was troubled with the skirt since he only remembered just part of it flowing past him. He argued if it’s short or long skirt. He was going back and forth and even tried to summon multiple dresses to compare them…….Then before the final day. He just uses his sense of style to bring it together. Of cause ! Who do you think he is, if not the cutest boy in NRC ? (Self proclaimed……)

He smiles so proudly with your flushed cheek as he teases you. As you put on a golden belt with a bat and thorn on. This is the perfect dress for you. His baby bat. He should had prepare a ring for this big day but well…….there are plenty time for that

Bonus : He pick a perfume for you today and as you dance with him on the floor. It’s totally Lilia’s scent///

This is very long………..more than I expected

I’ll continue Silver & Sebek in part 2 then 😂 sorry I’m so into it with my oshi! I’ll try pack in other dorm in one post! Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoy!!

[napoleonic-sexyman-tournament]

Benjamin Bathurst

(admin note: even if you don't vote for him, his mysterious disappearance is a fun rabbit hole)

Propaganda: “have you SEEN him? glorious regency-dandy perfection -- that hair, that nose, those lusciously thick sideburns! he was a spy as well, and we all know that spies are magnificently fuckable… and also he disappeared mysteriously, leaving behind only a fur coat and an exciting legend! what's sexier than that!!”

Napoleon I

Propaganda:

a. “It’s the Napoleonic wars! He’s the main guy here!” b. “Everything. Just, everything.” c. “He has something wrong with him (affectionate)” d. “I don’t know how to write propaganda, so I’ll just say this: Napoleon was a cutie, a world soul, a revolutionary emperor, and a great social and legal reformer. On the subject of physical appearance and attractiveness: He could pull off any look. Whether he was wearing a general’s uniform while riding a galloping white horse or wearing a laurel wreath in the Notre-Dame Cathedral or cuddling up in a large grey coat, he was cute af. He was a short king (above average height for the time). People fainted in his presence (I’m not even kidding, this did actually happen). He went so hard they declared war on him. And that’s pretty neat. He had beautiful hands. For some reason, there are multiple sources commenting on how pretty and gorgeous his hands were. And that’s a weird but cool trait to have. He was beautiful. His eyes were very pretty. Described as both crystal-like and fiery during different instances. His smile (which you can’t really see in any painting) was supposed to be one of his most charming features. His voice was described as “musical and deep” (from the diary of Bertie Greatheed). Personally, I think he looks like a fluffy panda or a baby seal. As a person, he was a very sweet, affectionate and unusually forgiving (maybe even naively so). He was also a funny and witty person. He enjoyed telling ghost stories, singing along to opera (badly), reading reports (for fun), taking baths, gossiping with his wife, and going to the library.”

[polinweek]

Hello romance lovers, we wish you a very Happy Valentine's Day! On this special day dedicated to love, we are happy to announce the dates for our Annual Polin Ship Week for 2024! 

Mark your calendars! Polin Week 2024 begins April 1st and concludes April 7th. We invite all fans of Colin and Penelope to participate and join us in celebrating the love we all share for these wonderful characters and this glorious couple!

RULES:

reblog this post so everyone can see it!

tag your posts #polinweek in one of the first five tags so that we can find it.

we will reblog ( and tag ) everything posted in that tag.

search through this blog, following the tags, to find all of the Polin content from that week

If you have any comments, concerns, or questions, please just ask!

SCHEDULE OF THE WEEK:

DAY ONE: Forced Proximity ♡ Favourite Quote  DAY TWO: Favourite Book Scene ♡ Lessons  DAY THREE: Fake Dating ♡ Angst DAY FOUR: Pen Pals ♡ Modern AU  DAY FIVE: Nicola & Luke Appreciation Day ♡ Height Difference  DAY SIX: Polin Day ♡ Soulmates AU DAY SEVEN:  Hopes for Season 3 ♡ Polin Songs

Admin’s Note: Feel free to take these prompts and run with it - write a fanfic, design a gifset or a moodboard, draw fanart, create a playlist - the only limit is your imagination!

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Evolutionary Adaptability

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)     When Kel had petitioned the human worlds of Jora, New Foundland, Davin VI, and Tesla’s Retreat he had thought he knew what to expect.

Though humans were still relatively young in the grand scale of galactic empires they had the most interesting, if not confounding, habit of setting up shop on any world they could find. Be it a dust ball with no atmosphere and three hundred degree sunrises, or a water world filled with ravenous creatures; humanity had shown their grit and made these worlds into new colonies and homes regardless of the danger.

Acting as a representative of his people Kel had reached out to each of those four worlds to establish trade routes. The possible wealth from each, let alone all four together, would be enough to sustain his world’s economic boon for several dozen generations.

He had been delighted when the transmissions came in one by one and each of the human worlds had agreed to meet on Kel’s homeworld to discuss the arrangements.

The first signs that things were running off the tracks was when the Jora delegation had arrived.

Kel had done his research after gathering many texts and documents regarding the human homeworld and thought himself prepared to handle the humans as they exited the landing ships. To say he was surprised when instead of tall slender bipedals massive mechanical suits ducked between the loading doors and on to the landing field would be an understatement.

These constructs were easily nine feet in height and four feet wide standing on two pairs of sharp metal legs that gave them a more insect appearance. Their hands were likewise far more different as they only had three metal talons that clicked and clacked as the machines approached him and Kel saw his reflection in the polished steel bodywork.

As if that was not enough the bodywork suddenly split open and Kel saw a fluid sack inside of the machine holding a frail looking human with numerous wires and tubes sticking out of them.

The human inside nodded to Kel in greeting and their mechanical suit mimicked the motion as well; to which Kel returned after an embarrassing moment’s hesitation.

Before Kel could inquire about the state of the Joraran’s they spoke through a robotic speaker built into their suits. It was then Kel learned that because the gravity of Jora was nearly ten times lighter compared to their natural homeworld the humans had needed to construct mechanical suits to move and live across the any other planet’s surface. If they had attempted to exit the suits and walk normally the gravity of Kel’s world would crush them like tin cans. Thinking to himself Kel imagined that was why the humans inside the machines looked so frail in comparison to their Terran born brethren.

---------- After the Joraran’s came the New Foundlanders some thirty minutes later.

This time the humans did not need to lower themselves to exit the shuttle craft. In fact, they barely came up half way inside the doorframe forcing Kel to tilt his head down and look upon them.

In contrast to the Joraran’s, the New Foundlanders were short and muscular built; coming up to Kel’s waist in height. They wore normal looking clothes standard to human fashion but the fabrics appeared strange as they New Foundlanders approached. It was as if the fabric was remaining static and unmoving despite the motions their wearers made.

Kel extended his hand in human custom to shake in glorious welcome, but to his shock the humans looked amongst themselves and shook their heads.

When Kel inquired if he had offended them somehow they stated that he had done nothing of the sort, and that their reluctance to shake his hand was more for his own safety.

Something of confusion must have cross his face as the lead New Foundlander motioned for one of Kel’s aides to toss him a pen. With a nod from Kel the aide handed a pen to the leader who promptly snapped it in two with the smallest of motions.

Kel learned that in opposite of Jora, New Foundland had gravity ten times heavier than that of earth forcing the humans who lived there to develop squat like bodies of raw muscle. On a lighter gravity world like Kel’s the mere flick of one of their fingers was enough to violently amputate the arm of anyone.

Kel thanked them for the warning and hurriedly sent the new information on to his waiting staff to ensure no one died from a handshake later that day. ---------------------

Next to arrive were the Davinites.

Kel was thankful that when the shuttle doors opened the Davinites were much like the human material he had researched prior to their meeting. They stood between 5 and 6 feet in height, were slender in body shape, and did not walk with mechanical suits or seemed overly careful what they touched.

The strangeness only began to reveal itself when Kel looked closer and saw that underneath the formal clothing the Davinites were wearing a full body bodysuit made from a strange black material. This covered every inch of what would have been exposed skin with even their eyes shielded behind large black goggles.

They shook Kel’s hand in human custom but then insisted that they leave the landing pad as soon as possible. When he asked why they were in such a hurry it was revealed to Kel that Davin VI was orbiting a red dwarf star that provided little light compared to most worlds. The day and night cycles of their world were a constant shroud of soft light, barely enough to see your hand in front of your face let alone the stars themselves.

As a result the Davinite skin had become increasingly pale in the absence of sunlight and their eyes had adapted to the lower light levels to see. Standing out in the open in natural daylight, even with the reflectors on their face, must have been like standing on the surface of the sun.

With great haste he ushered them inside and had his aides blot out the windows and greatly reduce light levels of their rooms for the duration of their stay. -------------------- The final delegation was by far the most unusual of the group in Kel’s eyes.

Unlike the previous delegations, the Teslins arrived in their own spacecraft specially designed on their homeworld. It was a massive freighter like construct easily five to six times larger than any shuttle that had arrived prior.

When the doors opened Kel was greeted by five Teslins all wearing environmental suits he had previously seen in dated records for human space travel.

They slowly walked towards Kel and shook his hand. Their leader was rather friendly and welcoming in their own right and matched him custom for custom as was befitting a delegate.

Kel had tried to resist asking about the suits they wore but thankfully they must have encountered this problem before and demonstrated the need for their suits.

With a nod from their leader one of the Teslins removed the gauntlet from their suit and exposed their hand to the open air. Nothing happened at first until Kel heard a rustle from behind him.

One of his aides was fiddling with their data pad; swatting it with their hands while they rolled it front and back. They caught Kel looking at him and said that it had suddenly died on him and that he was not sure why. The batteries had listed fully charged just a moment ago and now the device refused to power on.

Kel turned back to the Teslins and saw the previous member return their gauntlet to their suit with a loud click followed by the chime of the data pad powering up again.

The Teslin leader explained that the surface of Tesla’s Retreat was plague with frequent and violent electrical storms. The very air you breathed had a sub layer of constant energy in it regardless of where you were on the planet.

Their bodies had adapted to the electrical currents and were able to absorb and pass on energy in the surrounding area through their own bodies; much like a power relay passing on power from a power station to a waiting city.

The grandeur of their ship was a necessity as it contained multiple power units. In the event of a suit breach the Teslin’s could drain the power from a ship midflight and send everyone plummeting to their deaths; but with their design the backup generators would kick in and ensure a somewhat smooth landing.

Realizing the danger the Teslin’s presented while standing in a busy spaceport Kel ushered them inside while he tried to find transportation for them that would not kill them. -------------------------

Each of the delegations were so vastly different from what Kel had been informed of human genes and species type, and yet each of them still claimed to be just as human as the next of their kin, regardless of the vastly different features they wore.

It was a notion that Kel made scrupulous notes for future dealings with the humans, to which the delegation core all but awarded him a medal from the mounting confusion his notes would resolve in later negotiations.

[starks-hero]

Oh, Little Horned One of the Old Oak Tree

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader

Summary: Becoming the avatar of an ancient Celtic god came with some unforeseen side affects; side affects which you are yet to tell Steven about.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: language, slight body horror if you squint, Steven is a ridiculously supportive boyfriend in the face of fuckery and we love him for it

a/n: giving the reader a supportive god/avatar relationship because it's what they deserve

It's not that you hadn't tried to clean the blood, you'd done your best. But it stained the tips of your fingers and left the porcelain tiles of the bathroom a dark red.

You weren't entirely sure where it had all come from, but the damp, matted hair surrounding where the antlers had sprouted from your head served as a good indicator.

It shouldn't be happening, not yet. You had at least another fortnight till the next eclipse, (if your notes were anything to go by.) But you knew the moment your muscles began to ache and your bones began to creak that it was indeed happening, and it wasn't going to stop regardless of how upset it made you.

You'd tried to call Jake. Then Marc. But you didn't want to risk Steven answering the phone.

The bathroom was the closest refuge you could find and as it would seem it was far from the most ideal of places. You'd torn down the shower curtain in your haste to hide and all but shattered the delicate tiles beneath your feet.

The mirror had also fallen victim to your havoc, an almost artistically applaudable webbed crack spreading out from the centre of the glass where your elbow had made contact. A handful of rouge shards littered the floor and made quick work of slicing open your palm.

You glared at the offending piece of glass before picking it out of your hand and throwing it across the room with enough force that it was embedded in the opposite wall like a well-aimed dart.

You could still make out your reflection through the broken glass pane. Antlers sprouting from the crown of your head, winding off in all different directions. There was a pale glow to your eyes and ruins and ancient symbols wrapped around your arms and the expanse of your chest. And if your abundance of new features hadn't already qualified you for your own Magic: The Gathering card, you'd also doubled in height.

This would be a fucking delight to explain.

You took a moment to thank the gods for Stevens's late shift at the museum before steadying yourself with a deep breath.

You'd felt every bit of it; the stretching, twisting and growing of entirely new bones. And if the persistent pain in your chest and spine was anything to go by you figured it was far from over.

You could hear the deep, resonant voice of your deity, distant and far off, like rushing water over rock. His words were gruff and shaped by his accent as he apologized profusely; and as ego-boosting as it was having an eldritch being admit defeat and practically beg for your forgiveness, you found yourself in too much pain to truly enjoy the moment.

“Cernunnos,” you cursed the god's name.

Your legs were still crammed uncomfortably against your chest and the bathroom door whilst your antlers continued to do a glorious job of scrapping the paint job off the ceiling.

Another wave of pain hit, burning through your veins and seizing hold of your lungs. You coughed and spluttered, each attempt at a breath snagging in your throat like leaves catching on dead branches. The horrid sensation of shifting bones hit your chest and you doubled over with a hiss.

“Please make it stop.”

“I'm sorry, fia beag,” (little deer) the god said, his reflection appearing in the mirror shards. His antlers filled out the frame, putting your own to shame and his eyes, (despite, like the rest of his body, being those of a stag, which as far as species go aren't the most emotionally expressive–) were almost apologetic. “I've tried my best, I asked Manannan to reverse the tides to change the lunar phase and buy us time but it's too late.”

It was heartwarming really; how Cernnunos cared so much, enough to ask a fellow god to inconvenience the entire ocean all in the name of saving your love life. You were glad to have him, even if he was the reason you were going through pain worse than fucking childbirth.

“I'm sorry.” The god's ears flattened against his head and you wondered if you'd said the last part aloud.

“What's the point of all this again?” You'd shifted before but it was never irregular and never this bad.

“A thousand years ago my worshipers adored when my avatar arrived at Imbolc in this form!” Cernnunos sounded excited.

“So it was to show off?”

“To make the people feel seen and protected,” he countered.

“And it's something I have to go through because–?”

The god was quiet for a moment. “Old habits die hard?”

Cernnunos had off-handedly mentioned (downright bragged) about the pact he'd made with the moon sometime before the construction of Newgrange. That his avatar would be gifted with a godly form the night of each lunar eclipse. You weren't well versed in ancient deals between eldritch beings but apparently, it's not the kind of agreement you can back out of a millennia down the line.

And apparently, another moon-related god had initiated an eclipse two weeks ahead of schedule. (your money was on Khonshu over Artemis.)

“It will be alright, little one,” Cernnunos promised. It was soothing having him near, but he tended to have that effect. With him, you were like a fawn, comforted by the knowledge that it was protected by its elder. “Besides, it's not as though this night could get much worse for us.”

Almost comedically, the struggle of key in lock sounded and then the front door opened.

You and the god stared at each other, quite literally, like deers in headlights.

“Love? I'm home–”

Steven's voice sent your flight, fight, freeze response to full throttle and you beckoned for Cernnunos to leave as quietly and frantically as you could. The god seemed reluctant, but another chorus of a British accent from the other side of the door and he relented.

The glass rippled like water on a lake and then he was gone.

You could hear Steven moving around the flat, carrying out his usual routine of removing his name tag, unbuttoning his over shirt and tossing his bag on the couch.

You held your breath when the floorboards of the bedroom creaked and silently prayed he'd just call it a night in favour of finding you hiding in the bathroom looking like something straight from Pans Labyrinth. When he called out for you again you sent your head back against the wall with enough force to crack the tiles.

“Love, you alright?” There was three gentle raps on the door. “Darling?”

“I'm fine,” the words were unsteady. And had your voice gotten deeper?

There was a beat of silence outside the door then, “You don't sound fine.”

“I'm just not feeling great,” you managed. Just go, Steven. Please just go.

“Oh, darling, are you sick? Here let me–” The terrifying sight of the door handle turning caused your heart to almost hammer out of your chest. You rushed to press your foot against it and watched in horror as the timber split right down the middle. The door was barely clinging to the hinges.

You could hear Steven's shock on the other side of the door, a string of curses followed suit. “Y/N–”

“Just leave it, Steven!” you bit out. You hadn't meant for the words to sound so animalistic, so angry. But the only thing currently preventing your life from crumbling was a splintering door and your refusal to move your foot. You were allowed to be rash, you thought.

“Alright, you're scaring me now–”

The universe really wasn't letting up with its ironies today.

The wooden door panels creaked and splintered as Steven tried to open it from the outside. You kept your foot firmly pressed to the middle, but as the hinges began to groan you felt the sturdiness give way. It felt like you had your foot against a wet piece of tissue paper; you were going to tear right through it.

With one more shove from Steven's side, you were forced to surrender.

The door swung open with truly theatrical measure and Steven stumbled in behind it. Instinctually, you pushed yourself against the back wall, forgetting your new height and putting your head through the ceiling as you did.

Chaos is too kind of a word for what followed.

The sound that left Steven fell somewhere between a startled shout and a scream of genuine terror. You reached out and Steven fired back, his feet tying themselves in knots and sending him to the floor.

You struggled to pull your head out of the crater you'd left in the roof. A fine layer of debris and dust covered you and somewhat important-looking wires were strung across your antlers like poorly hung Christmas lights.

Almost on cue, the bathroom light flickered twice and came away from the ceiling, ending up in several pieces on the floor.

The dark apparently did nothing in making you look less menacing as Steven continued to voice his fears. And loudly at that. He hadn't moved, still frozen to the spot just outside the door.

“Steven, please–” you crawled forward at a snail's pace, each movement purposely slow.

He watched you with frantic eyes, his heart hammering like a rabbit against his chest. You'd never seen him so scared.

As he clambered to his feet, you dared to inch closer, but it was the opinion of the shattered tiles beneath your feet that you weren't moving nearly fast enough. You slipped on the porcelain shards and were all but thrown in Steven's direction.

Your rack broke your fall by all but embedding the tips of each spike in the wall surrounding the door frame. You'd put your head through so much wood and plaster in the past few minutes you were beginning to sympathize with mounted deer heads.

Steven was staring now, expression boarding on mild fear and absolute confusion. Then, his eyes flicked to the broken mirror behind you, and then his reflection in the window to his right.

Marc and Jake had taken their sweet time.

Steven looked between you, the mirror and the window and then back at you. Then it visibly clicked.

“Oh, oh my gods, Y/N you, you're-” he swallowed. “-what's happening?”

“It's my time of the month.” The joke went down like a led balloon. Steven swayed on his feet.

“Steven, are you alright?”

“Yeah, sort of. No, not really.”

You craned your neck as far as your current predicament would allow for. “Are you going to pass out?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay,” you said the word beneath your breath. He hadn't run which, all things considered, meant this was going fairly well. Even from the awkward angle you were stuck in you could feel his eyes on you, shifting from one monstrous feature to the next, lingering on the markings and the fucking antlers and the–

“Love, you have blood– you're bleeding.” And just like that, a flip switched in Steven's mind at the sight of you wounded. This man was a true enigma and a wonderful one at that. “Here–”

He approached and then almost immediately hesitated, bouncing back on his heel the moment you shifted.

You weren't exactly a threatening sight, shoulders wedged in the door frame, covered in dust and splintered wood and head practically pinned to the wall. You looked like a drunk stag that had lost a fight to a tree.

Steven shook himself and stepped close enough that your laboured breaths ruffled his curls. He was doing an admirable job of hiding the fact that he was shaking.

“Alright, bloody hell um–” He regarded the situation and then nodded. “I'll push, you pull.”

Steven braced his hands against your shoulders and you grabbed hold of the door frame. It's not that you needed the extra help; out of all the things you'd conquered whilst serving as an avatar freeing yourself from a plaster wall ranked fairly low on that list.

But Steven was touching you in this form, his palms pressed to your broadened shoulders and you weren't about to jinx it.

The wall cracked and fissured as you freed yourself, several deep punctures left where your antlers had been. You twisted and manoeuvred your way out of the bathroom until you could straighten up to your full height.

Thank god Steven lived on the top floor. Higher ceilings.

“Okay, woah–” Steven took several steps back as you stood. You towered over him, antlers bleeding into darkened shadows against the ceiling. Okay, now 'intimidating' might be a more fitting word.

You lowered yourself to your knees in an attempt to seem less frightening. Now that you were eye to eye, Steven could see the worry in your expression as you regarded him softly.

“It's alright. I'm adjusting,” he said, voice still trembling. “Just need a quick adjustment period...”

You gave him time and let him lead.

And that's how you ended up in the kitchen, legs crossed as you sat on the floor whilst Steven sat on the counter in front of you. He held a wet flannel in his hand, droplets of water creeping down his arm.

A dry cloth sat folded on the counter beside him, as well as a box of plasters with 'good job!' written across each one.

It was as if his rationality was being overridden by his need to care for you as well as his overall steveness.

Steven dabbed the crown of your head gently, his hands shaking as he did. There was still a dull ache where the antlers had sprouted. Steven rung out the flannel over the sink and the sight of the blood running through his fingers and over his knuckles made you feel ill. His hands were always so soft, they weren't meant to be stained with blood.

You blinked as a small trail of blood seeped from your head and trailed down between your brows. Steven diligently stopped the flow with the cloth and cleaned you up. Your nose twitched at the dampness of the cloth and Steven smiled.

The first smile you'd seen all night.

His actions slowed, hand stilling as he watched you. Beneath the pale glow of your eyes there was something so familiar. He smiled again.

“Hiya love,” the words were so soft they made you feel warm.

“Hi.”

You raised your arms, the markings and symbols on your skin catching in the dim light. Your hands circled Steven's wrists gently. He pulled back and for a terrifying moment you thought he'd gone completely; deciding that he'd had enough, that you were too much like this and he was drawing the boundary line here.

Instead, he dropped the blood-stained flannel in the sink basin and held his hand back against yours, palms pressed together. It was an adorable comparison. The tips of his fingers barely brushed the top of your palm, in fact, you were certain you could close your hand over the entirety of his own. There was a moment shared in comfortable silence then Steven asked, “Y/N, what is going on?”

The question was gentle and filled with wonder. There was still a trace of a smile on his lips. It made you feel like you could finally tell him.

“Avatar stuff. I suppose my god is a little more... flamboyant than yours.”

Steven laughed and the sound comes as a relief. “Khonshu didn't want to give me the time of day, let alone a– a bloody godly alter ego.”

A beat of silence.

“Did it hurt?”

It was heartwarming that that was his next question.

“A little,” you answered somewhat honestly. “But I'm alright now.”

He finished cleaning you up in a peaceful silence. He took the time to wash the blood from your hair as best he could and plaster your injured hand, (for the emotional boost more than anything.) It took several plasters to cover the expanse of the wound, each overlapping so the supportive catchphrase now read 'good good job good.'

He sat in front of you now, having spent the last few minutes tracing the spirals and patterns on your arm. His earlier fear had completely given way to wonder; it wasn't easy to forget that the man was a mythology nerd through and through.

A boyish laugh crept past his lips. “I wonder how Marc and Jake will react.” He looked up at you to gouge a reaction and his smile fell slightly. “Oh.”

“Steven–” you scratched the back of your neck. This was going to be a bitch to explain. “-Jake only knows because... well–” you made a vague motion with your hands that the four of you had come to recognize meant 'Jake.'

Steven nodded in understanding.

“And Marc just sort of found out by accident.”

Steven nodded again and you could visibly see the process going on behind his eyes.

“And um– why didn't any of you tell me?” His voice adopted a higher pitch at the end of the question, likely in an attempt to take the edge off.

You took a sudden interest in the floorboards. “I didn't want to– you know.”

It was quiet for a moment. Then Steven gasped.

“Oh, oh love, you didn't think... you didn't think I'd be scared did you?”

A quick exhale of amusement from you. “You seemed fairly scared.”

“I- well yeah, yeah.” He conceded. “But not of you. Never of you.” His hands found yours again, the staggering difference in size almost humorous. “I just wish you could have felt like you could have told me, that's all.”

A warmth settled in the centre of your chest and you felt the corner of your eyes dampen. Any attempt of yours to not cry was immediately foiled as he inched closer and put his arms around your neck. His knees buckled against your crossed legs and he sank against your chest.

“For what it's worth,” you smiled against the crown of his head. “I think your reaction probably ranks highest out of the three.”

“Yeah?” He asked lightly. His curls tickled the end of your nose.

“Yeah. Jake used some pretty colourful language, most of it was in Spanish. And Marc pulled a gun on me–”

“He pulled a gun on you–?!” With the exclamation, Steven shot back to look at you.

“Like I said, you take first place.”

“Well, the bar wasn't set awfully bloody high was it?” He glared at his reflection in the kettle and you smirked, closing your arms around him and caging him to your chest. There was something so soothing, so primally comforting about being able to hold him, hold all of him, like this.

You nuzzled against his chocolate curls and to anyone on the outside looking in the action would have looked downright primal. Animalistic. But it couldn't have felt more intimate.

“I could get used to this, I think.” Steven's words were barely above a breath. “You're just a big teddy bear, really. More of you to love.”

His hands slowly and deliberately retraced your shoulder, then your neck, down the expanse of your chest... “What do the patterns mean?”

“Some of the symbols stand for attributes or characteristics; strength, courage, loyalty,” you regarded your arm, from your bicep down to your wrist. “Some of them are his symbols, some he added when I agreed to be his avatar and others, I've never really taken the time to find out–”

Steven hummed, not in a dismissive sense, rather in a way that showed he'd listened to each word like the gospel.

“I've got a book on ruins and ancient symbols, only bought the thing for the hieroglyphics really but maybe we could have a look? Do some homework?” A playful nudge accompanied the last question and you caved. As if you stood much of a chance to begin with.

That's how you ended up laying on the bed, (well, mostly on the bed. Your back was against the headboard and your legs still hung over the edge. Steven straddled your middle, an open book and notepad to his right, a highlighter between his teeth and a marker in his hand. His glasses sat on the bridge of his nose and his brows furrowed as he traced his thumb over a symbol just beneath your collarbone.

You shivered despite yourself.

He'd mapped everything out, using the marker to gently draw on your skin, making connections and jotting down notes. It was like watching a scholar at work and you were honoured to be his study.

“Sorry about the bathroom,” you said rather out of the blue.

Steven glanced up at you, rebellious curls falling against his brow. His confusion melted into gentle amusement. “Don't worry about it, love. Needed redoing anyways, I reckon.”

Then, as if it were the most mundane thing in the world, he went back to his translations.

In a form that most could only phantom in the darkest corners of their imagination and with a god willing to bend the seas and skies at your will, Steven Grant somehow remained among both the most curious and most cherished things you had.

Key ➳

Cernnunos - Celtic god of wild things, fertility and animals

Manannan - (Manannan Mac Lir) Celtic god of the sea

Imbolc - the Celtic festival that marks the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It celebrates the return of life and light as it is the time when the ewes come into milk, when the first flowers appear and when the day noticeably lengthens.

Newgrange - famous 5,200 year old passage tomb in Co Meath, Ireland

‘fia beag’ - gaeilge for ‘little deer’

thank you for reading!

tag list: @bakerstreethound @yoditopascal @moonlighy @linkpk88 @spideysimpossiblegirl @noahspector @malaanii @ineedmorejakelockley @drmeowingfangirl @loonymagizoologist @othersideoftheparadise @doozywoozy @mywellspringoflife

[asiantransformations]

Co-Existence

Months and months of online chatting between Tyler and Leo sparked an inner desire inside of Tyler. The more he found out about Leo made him lust over him. Tyler didn't just want to be with him, but he wanted to be him. They were just friends that share similar ideas, but from two very different walks of life.

Both of these guys were working in the same industry in competing companies. Leo was only 30 and already was in a higher position that Tyler, 41, has been trying for years to reach. Compared to Tyler, Leo was young and thriving. At his age, his body was blooming with power through his muscles and virility. Each day, Leo still has the energy to train his muscles in the gym while pushing the limit on his mental capabilities. Being on the wealthy side, Leo could afford the super private gyms and greater things in life. Every girl wanted to get in his pants and every guy wanted to have a body like his. His career is only just starting and the sky's the limit. Although they can gym together, Tyler never had the potential for greater heights that Leo was endowed to have. That urge to be better, that itch to be the best roughed him up

Tyler searched the dark web until he came across the perfect item. Although it was expensive, it was only a small price to pay for his ultimate goal. Sneaking into the same private gym, he ambushed Leo as he stepped out of the gym shower. The magic mirror shone in his hands making him an exact replica of Leo, making him just as big and toned.

"Bro, what's going on? Whats going on? Why do you look like me?" the stunned original Leo exclaimed.

"No, I want your job and if I can't have it, I'll just have to take your body instead. A position that's rightfully mine with a body that matches it. I deserve it more than you." Tyler thought of how he didn't want to be a exact replica of Leo, he wanted to be the one version of Leo that exists. The mirror shone again. Both of their bodies was glowing. Tyler knew exactly what to do.

In one swift motion, Tyler leaped against Leo and their bodies starting fusing into one. Their body was undergoing changes as they blacked out. The pocket mirror shattered, sealing them together.

"Oooh, Arghhh!!!!" a mix of pain and pleasure filled their combined Leo body.

Tyler awoke and rushes of memories shot through him as his personality overtook and awakened. Walking over to the full gym mirror, Leo looked back. His face was young and invigorating. Full of vitality. His muscles were perking under the command of a new master.

All that admiration left the new Leo, hard and at full mast. His new body was responding to Tyler's excitement. He always expected Leo to be big and thick, but was not prepared for feeling of the actual thing. Rubbing his hands all over his newfound body surged his testosterone levels. Tyler formed Leo's gorgeous face into desperate and horny expressions. Panting, salivating like a hungry dog. The orgasm built up in moments.

“You like that? You sexy, sexy beast!” his new low voice commanded “I finally got what I deserve. This is all mine. Everything is perfect. I am perfect." Tyler snarled. “I'm stroking MY cock, with MY hand! That is MY body and MY life." He lapped a bit of the precum leaking everything “This is MY smell and MY taste! And damn do I taste good!"

Leo pumped harder, harder, and harder. He rammed his precum-soaked fingers in his warm hole while massaging his prostate. The high levels of pleasure cause his body to shake as his moaned louder. Droplets of perspiration dripped down his face and appeared on my chest and forcing him to thrust his cock upwards as he screamed in adrenaline. “Arrgghh, Fuck here it comes! I'm coming, Ohhhh! I'm Leo Chen and I’m coming!”

The pressure started in his balls and spread all throughout his body. Waves and waves of euphoria as cum torretted out his glorious mushroom head. With each shot, the love and amazement for Leo intensified. Every part of his being and surrounding was covered in his precious Leo cream. Sweat and cum glistened his body as his muscles were relaxing.

"Fuck my old life and the dead end company I'm with." Rubbing his cum all over his body like lotion. “I am and forever will be Leo Chen.” he flexed all of his muscles. A smile spread across his face and it felt like total domination over my body. He had won. His dick was like a mini baseball bat, his balls was like a giant stress ball. His muscles flex and bend as his command. He was looking at all the small details that made him in awe.

“Don't you fucking think of coming back!” Leo said to his reflection, imagining it as the previous owner. “You've had your fun, but I'm finally home now. Thank you for being a placeholder in my life, keeping this body warm for me. All your hard work and effort will never be waster. But from now on I am the true owner of this body and we’ll be inseparable for the rest of eternity!"

The true acceptance caused more memories and knowledge to truly awakened to its master. Every intimate detail. Every clarity of information from Leo's childhood to his habits and interests crowned his head as he absorbed everything willingly. He felt a sense of comfort and hope like this was the norm for him already. Leo walked over to the shower. He needed to groom himself once again and get ready for his new life .

Unwillingly, his mouth moved. "Damn, that was hot. It looks like we are gonna have fun together. Can't believe you felt this way about me and my body. I'm honored." In a revelation, something in Leo's body snapped and it felt like there were simultaneously two co-pilots. Both of them controlling one Adonis hunk with all their actions and thinking interlinked with each others' feelings and ideas. Basically to say the least, Leo will definitely be living his best life.

[scekrex]

How about Adam x Tall!Male!Reader?? You can do whatever you want with this, I just thought it would sound tooth-rottingly fluffy.

(Like maybe y/n is around the same height as sera, or maybe a little taller).

I did not specify how tall reader is but it's implied he's about the same height as Sera :3

All I want is all you've got

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: beta read by @drxgonspine

For Adam it was extremely hard to get used to the fact that his boyfriend was taller than him - the only angels that he regularly met and that were taller than him were the seraphims. Yes, there were other angels taller than him, angels above the seraphims but those weren’t creatures the first man often interacted with.

It was also not that he felt threatened in his masculinity by the fact that you were quite taller than him, no, it was just that he was not used to it that angels close to him were taller. All his exorcists were smaller than him, they always had been. The winners roaming heaven’s glorious streets were smaller than him. Basically every mortal soul that had arrived after Adam had been smaller than the first man.

Expect you.

And no one really had an explanation for that either, most of the winged souls in heaven had simply accepted it as it was - the seraphims had not.

But that was not Adam’s problem to deal with. The seraphims still treated you respectfully and for as long as they would continue to treat the first man’s boyfriend well, he could not find it in himself to care any more or any less about their conflict with his partner’s height. He himself - despite not being used to it - found it quite relaxing to have a lover taller than himself. Because different from Adam, you were a warmhearted soul who wore his heart on his sleeve. You were a rush of sugar, a bright light in the dark and a kind soul through and through.

While Adam was loud and roughless, you were quiet and calm. You were his safe space, his home. You were the person who knew the true Adam, the Adam who could be quite soft and gentle, the Adam who loved unconditionally. You knew sides others would never get to see because the brunette felt comfortable enough around you to show you these sides without hesitation.

A thing you would have not expected when the both of you had started dating, was that the first man preferred to be the little spoon when it came to cuddling. He would press his face against your chest, inhaling your scent deeply with every breath he took as if it was what kept him high, as if your scent and your warmth were his own personal drug that kept him going. Sometimes, during nights when he was not feeling well or when the both of your schedules had forced you to be apart for longer than expected, he would gently grab one of your wings and wrap himself up in it like a burrito, he’d roll closer and closer to your body until his back would hit your chest. Then he would free one of his hands to reach out for your arm and wrap it around his in your wing covered body.

He was quite a touchy guy in general. In public he would sometimes sit proudly on your shoulder as you would carry him to your shared destination. He loved being close to you even though he would never admit to it out loud. But that was more than fine with you - you knew he felt safe around you, that you and your body were a comfort zone the first man never had before but always craved.

He did not need to admit it, not when his actions made it so obvious that he craved you in more than just a sexual way.

A thing the first man also adored was to simply lay on top of you, either on your chest or on your back - he really did not mind both. Though you had come to notice that he liked it better to rest on your chest because that way it was easier to kiss.

Whenever you were sitting somewhere, he would surely climb into your lap, using you as his very personal seat, sometimes he would even bring his guitar with him, depending on the situation of course. You loved listening to his tunes, though sometimes you thought of them as a little extreme. But it made Adam happy to play them for you and you enjoyed listening to them so you were not really complaining. Especially because you were not able to argue against Adam’s one and only, “That’s fucking Rock ‘n’ Roll, babes,” argument. Because it was and it's a good kind of rock too. So mostly you simply enjoyed the tunes he would play for you on his guitar and listen to his rough voice singing harsh lyrics.

Being taller than Adam also had the upside of being able to carry him home whenever he was too tired to fly himself - which happened more often than someone would think. He was unable to hold back during concerts and whenever those were over, you would gladly carry home a sleeping Adam who would curl up against you and mumble sweet nothings in his sleep. He was adorable whenever he had the opportunity of powering himself out entirely. That was until the morning after - then he would often complain about how his entire body hurt and how he was growing old - bullshit in your eyes but that thought you kept to yourself.

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

Just some headcanons about how I think Copia, Mary, and the ghouls would kiss you.

Copia kisses you like you're about to disappear and he doesn't know if he'll see you again. He cups your face, holds you close, takes it slow so the taste of one another may never leave your mouths again. He whispers against your lips, telling you how much he loves you and how he can't bear to leave you and that he would bring you on tour with him if he didn't think it would cause problems for Imperator.

Mary Goore's kisses come across as aggressive and bruising, but you know he's trying to show you with his actions rather than words how much he loves, wants, needs you. It's desperate hands pulling on each other, twisting into hair, Mary directing you to where he wants you. His teeth biting into your lip, a tongue pushing into your mouth. He's not comfortable with the vulnerability of saying "I love you", but his desperation for you is enough to tell you that he can't let you go.

Sodo is fiery passion and pushing one another up against walls. You make him feral, make him want to say fuck everything else, because in that moment you're all that he can see and smell and hear and feel and taste. He tries to engulf you, to swallow you whole, but in reality it's you who envelopes him with your heart, and you both feel it with the intensity of your kisses. There are times when you take it slower, savour one another, but it's when you devour each other that you feel that fire burn the brightest.

Aether kisses you slowly, gently, touches feather-light as if he worries he'll break you if he holds onto you too tightly. He's aware that he's the strongest out of the other ghouls physically, and so he's careful every time you kiss. His lips ghost over yours, they meld together so seamlessly, he caresses your face so gently it almost tickles. It's always you who has to deepen it, make it rougher, and he's okay with letting you have that control. Rather that than he hurt you. He couldn't live with himself if he harmed you trying to show you his love.

The kisses between you and Swiss are plentiful, the ghoul grabbing your face and placing kiss after kiss on your lips until you're giggling and pulling him in for a longer, deeper one. You press yourselves up against one another as much as you can, leaving little to no space between you both, and it's like you're in your own bubble. He has so much love, so much passion, to give to you and he'll shower it upon you as much as he can with each and every kiss.

A kiss from Rain is full of so much raw emotion, so much that he's too nervous to say to you in front of everyone else, because he's convinced - like Copia - that this kiss could be your last and he may never see you again. But the difference is that while Copia fears he'll never see you again because he knows there's a chance he'll suffer the same fate as the other Papas, Rain is terrified that you'll bore of him and go for one of the other ghouls. So he puts all his love, all his being, into all of your kisses, foreheads touching and noses brushing. And every time, you reassure him that you're not going anywhere. You love him, nobody else.

When Mountain kisses you, unless you're taller or the same height as him he always ducks his head to brush yours. Your kisses are always slow, leisurely, and it's like the two of you become one with each other and nature itself. You feel everything draw to a standstill as you cling to one another and allow yourselves to feel everything. Sometimes, when he takes you out to a secluded spot in nature, he'll sit and bring you into his lap as you both bask in one another's glorious love while you kiss. To the two of you, the rest of the world doesn't exist. There's just the two of you.

Sunshine is unadulterated joy and love. Kisses interspersed with smiles and laughter and pure adoration for one another. When your kisses sadly end, she looks at you as if you're the moon to her sun. Your fingers intertwine as you press your lips together, bodies as flush against one another as you can get, the bumping of noses that make you break apart and giggle. She radiates pure love and happiness and she channels that into the kisses you share, her tail gently stroking your cheek because she doesn't want to let your hands go.

Cumulus' kisses always taste of whatever she and Mountain have been baking in the kitchen. They're sweet, both in taste and in essence, as she holds onto your shoulders to keep you rooted where you are. She doesn't tell anyone else, but sometimes she worries that like the wind you'll blow away and she may never get to tell you again how much she cherishes and loves you. She tries her best not to make it so obvious with her kisses, but sometimes they're so filled with need that you have to reassure her that nothing could tear you both apart. You'd fight for her, do anything for her, and she is the same with you.

The way Cirrus kisses you is similar to Sodo in that they're full of heated passion, but not as aggressive. She's forceful, pushing a knee between your legs, tugging your clothes or your hair, but not to engulf you. She wants and needs to feel you, to know that you're just as real as she is, and that this isn't a dream. But when you fight back, trying to take control and dominate the kiss, it's your way of letting her know that you're very real and that she couldn't get rid of you even if she tried. There's biting, sucking of lips, squeezing of flesh, and both of your hearts rattling against your chests. In that moment, you both feel so electric and alive.