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#you just have to take into consideration as to what would have to be forgotten and what would stay the same
staryuee · 6 months
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GIVING THEM A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET
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꒰warnings꒱ not proofread…:3
⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . how would your significant other react when you give them a friendship bracelet made by your own kind hands?
⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, kazuha, kokomi, scaramouche, heizou, itto, cyno, lyney, lynette, freminet, furina, neuvillette, navia, ga ming, chiori, arlecchino
⠀꒲ ` notes . . . this reminded of primary school days of making randomly coloured loom band bracelets…sniffles, the good ol’ days of giving your crush bundled up daisies that had bugs on them from the schools yard and then immediately running away (i am a lesbian i had no such experience in just talking for the sake of poetry ☆〜(ゝ。∂)
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R. DILUC — 迪卢克
“what’s this, my love?” he cautiously surveyed the tiny strings and charms with a shocked yet rather satisfied expression. so this is what you were so focused on for the last couple hours…? he can’t help but feel slightly relieved that instead of wasting away at work you were merely crafting a cutely childish gift for him.
“it’s a friendship bracelet! look, i even managed to find these cute strawberry charms for you.” you laughed and start fiddling with the short strands near his scalp, fiddling with them and folding them over to create a stem-like shape.
diluc softly exhaled in amusement, wrapping the small piece of jewellery around his already bedazzled wrist. it takes him a real good second to actually realise what you just said. awkwardly coughing into his hand, diluc catches your attention, “darling, you do realise we’re married?”
a smile possesses your face as you hook your arm with his. “of course i do! i just thought it’d be cute, you know?” he smiled in response.
diluc is no stranger to friendship bracelets. after all, him and kaeya used to make those for each other all the time. sometimes that young triplet consisting of a very dedicated jean, a shy kaeya and a mischievous diluc (sometimes a cutsey barbara who tried to eat the beads) would gather together to create and exchange such bracelets.
a tradition that diluc might’ve let go of but had never forgotten. when you go to sleep at night diluc immediately places your bracelet into a drawer where he kept all of the ones from his childhood.
K. KAZUHA — 枫原万叶
“is this a friendship bracelet? that’s very considerate of you, my love.” kazuha tilts your chin to press a feather-light kiss onto your lips, his touch so tender it was like being touched by sunlight itself. “but i thought we were passed our journey of friendship?” his hand travel down to your hips. squeezing them intently to bring you close to his flowery scent.
“or do i need to remind you that we’re lovers?” taking your hand in his, kazuha leaned his head down to press his lips against your knuckles, eyes peeking through his bangs as if to entice you. and, well, of course it did. kazuha knew just a simple glance at you paired with an affectionate grin was enough to lure you into loving his arms.
kazuha didn’t expect for a piece of handmade jewellery consisting of maple leaf charms with red string to become so sentimental to him, but it was only a matter of time till the bracelet helped become an engraved memory of you. he’d kiss it each time you were apart, hold it up against moonlight while stargazing, trying to illustrate your figure within a constellation.
wandering became more exciting. he’d get to slowly part from your lips, while still having a perpetual reminder of the love you shared with a few pieces of strings tied to his wrist alone.
kazuha, though content with this, always secretly craved to hear the sound of your voice as you called his name and reached out to him. however, within his life he’s learned one thing that has truly stood out; it’s the small things in life that mirror true beauty.
S. KOKOMI — 珊瑚宫心海
“your excellency? what is that on your wrist?” gorou tilted his head curiously, his ears twitching in tandem.
“hm? oh, this?” she shakes the coral coloured bracelet, making the beads and fish charms jingle excitedly as if they were jumping within sea waves. “haha, [name] gave it to me. it’s a friendship bracelet!” kokomi shows it off with pride, a flutter of flapping fins hit her ribcage in the form of her beating heart at the prospect of people seeing the deepness of your ocean-depth bond with just a few beads on a string.
burnout is utterly debilitating. as kokomi spends only a few minutes in her recluse corner within watatsumi, even the shimmering of pearls and the quiet sound of the shore isn’t enough to bring her fragmented energy to rest. nesting her head upon the bundled arms that laid carefully on her desk, she attempted to snooze. finding that she can just barely flutter her curled eyelashes close before an unbearable ache pinches her eyebrows into a knot.
feeling defeated, kokomi sits back up and taps her fingers absentmindedly on the wood, finding just a tiny bit of solace in the sound of clicking and clacking. wait…she quickly glanced at her wrist, noticing she completely forgot to take off her bracelet when preforming her duties. despite her fatigue, kokomi can’t help but exhale a smile. calloused fingers tweezing the bubbly fish charms in an attempt for stimuli that wasn’t so agonising.
she’s so glad she has you, even if that memory of you is withheld in something children share for an intended promise of foreverness.
SCARAMOUCHE — 斯卡拉姆齐
“are you twelve?“ scaramouche raises his eyebrows at you with a sneer, a look of either disgust or confusion on his face. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were mocking me.”
“you’re short but not kid short!” you retorted to appease him, rolling your eyes at his annoying theatrics. did he really have to be so bitchy all the time? i guess when people say that short people tend to be the most angry because all that wrath is bottled into such a teeny body it’s very true…
the friendship bracelets (yes you made two!) were a representation of his journey from the malicious “balladeer” to the slightly less malicious and more so bittersweet wanderer. a contradicting colour palette yet his frosty and asshole attitude remained the same no matter what hue of the rainbow he was dipped in (should’ve been named skittle not scaramouche).
“if you don’t like it that much you don’t have to wear it, it’s not like i’m forcing you.” a pang of disappointed squeezed your chest heavily. it would’ve been fine if he just threw it away after a week or so. you would’ve been extremely hurt yes, but it’s better than having your own lover reject a handmade gift without even a thought for your feelings.
seeing your frown lines and the way your eyebrows scrunched together, scaramouche sighed and immediately snatched the bracelets back. quickly covering them over his wrist and crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. “i never said i wouldn’t wear it, stop being whiny.”
the slight embarrassment he felt was worth every stroke of blush on his cheeks if it meant he could see you smile brightly at something so childish.
S. HEIZOU — 鹿野院平藏
“it’s not our anniversary.” heizou stated simply.
“nope.”
“neither of our birthdays.”
“nope.”
“not a special achievement either.”
“nope.”
“alright, love, spill. what’s the occasion, hm? just in the mood to spoil me with your affections?” heizou threw his hands up in defeat. not being able to use his detective experience into deciphering why you decided to be so cute today and bless his otherwise uneventful day.
carefully, you wrapped the bracelet around his eager wrist. “no occasion~ just felt like giving you a friendship bracelet to show my love for you.” he raises an eyebrow. leaning to your eye level, heizou procures a look of confused distaste at your seemingly innocent admission. “friendship?” he looks away dejected, placing his hands on his hips. “and here i thought i was your very cool and sweet boyfriend.”
brushing away his dramatics and looping your arms around his neck to pull his pouty face in closer, you retaliate. “oh hush, you’re still my lovely dramatic boyfriend.” heizou smirked and leaned in impossibly close, his breath tickling your soft skin generously.
“then, could you show your love for me in another way too?” begrudgingly, you caved. moulding your lips with his while his hands gradually situated themselves on your hips. a chuckle escapes his occupied mouth, leaving a tingling feeling down your spine as you pull away, a bright smirk on his face. “thanks for the bracelet, baby~ i’ll be sure to wear it as my lucky charm during investigations!”
A. ITTO — 荒泷一斗
“well of course you’d want to bless the almighty arataki itto with such a gift! i humbly accept your offering~” itto sways a thumbs up, tongue rolling across his pointy teeth in an extravagant display of confident hubris. all in vain, of course. no amount of bravado could dull the charming blush on his cheeks; the way his grin hoisted into a genuine smile of gratitude or the way his eyes glistened with a familiar light; childlike wonder.
itto was never and has never been accustomed to such small things in life. honestly, he was lucky for a stranger to not throw insults, physical objects, hits, kicks, spit, and the like for his mere existence. a friendship bracelet was an event that was so far out of reach for the oni that the only thing he wanted to do right now was to kiss you stupid.
but, he couldn’t. he stood still, twiddling with the beads that nested against his wrist with a haze that was absentminded you felt like tapping him would cause a bubble to burst above his head for water to splash him awake.
the word “friend” doesn’t even register into his brain. he’s too content with the knowledge that your bond meant something to you. that he meant something to you.
you’ve never seen itto so quiet before. he’s usually this giant (literally) ball of energy that bounces around the place and shares an infectious attitude of confidence and joy with no restraint even to the most stoic, but right now, it was like he was that small vulnerable child again given a chance at redemption for simply living.
CYNO — 赛诺
cyno tilts his head to the side as he stares with pinched brows at the weaved threads of purple and yellow beads and charms that you held in front of you with a delicate hand. “what’s the bracelet for?”
“it’s a friendship bracelet!” taking the initiative, you wrap the bracelet around his relatively small wrist and watch in awe as it seems to match his palette perfectly. perhaps not his personality, but maybe if he wore this around regularly people wouldn’t be so frightened by his frozen features.
cyno went quiet for a moment, a look of confusion on his face. a look that made you shrink in shame. did he not like it? was something wrong with it? is it too childish for someone with such an esteemed status? all such baseless thoughts get immediately dispelled once cyno’s lips curl into a subtle grin, his eyes narrowing devilishly.
you’ve often seen this look when he’s about to score a rewarding win in a tcg tournament. but, he also had this look when…fuck. you sigh in defeat and simply let him say it. “why did the friendship bracelet break up with its partner?”
“…ha. why?”
“because it felt tied down.”
you know how in animes when someone says something very fucking stupid, it’s like the world echoes with silence to allow the person to truly feel the embarrassment from their words? you hoped that’s what cyno felt when you blank stared him with a thin line for your lips, hands clenching and unclenching as you fought the urge to squeeze his cheeks together.
“do you get it?” he asks, but before he can ramble about the absolutely articulate construction of his pun, you spring into action and press your lips passionately on his. of course, he replies eagerly. enjoying the clicking of the beads hitting together as his hand made it’s swift, instinctive movement to your waist.
LYNEY — 林尼
“mon ange…is this for me?” lyney smiles gently at you, sneaking the red bracelet onto his wrist. unable to take his away from the fine craftsmanship and the adorable details of hats, doves and some card charms. knowing you thought of him so directly and so in depth made his heart flutter the same way a dove’s wings expand after being liberated from a cooped cage.
“of course it is, it’s a friendship bracelet!” you clasp your hands behind your back, awaiting either his praise or his teasing — whatever he was in the mood for more. despite the happiness that surged through his heart like a bad game of throw the dart, believe me you shot him hard in the feels, lyney frowns.
“but, mon chéri…” he sighs in despair, a theatric hand over the very heart you had gripped tightly in your hand with a mere few beads of coloured wax. “i haven’t gotten a gift for you, i feel rather ashamed of myself.”
“don’t worry about that, this is just meant to be my good luck charm for you during your shows and…” your voice trailed off to him. not because he was uninterested but because he loved the buzzing sound of your melodic syllables each time your lips opened.
“ah, my dear,” lyney paused your affectionate rambles politely, “you’ve got something here…” you tilt your head to the side quizzically and await for him to point at it or take it out. he grins wildly. “well, isn’t that cute?” lyney chuckles softly and while leaning suuuper close to your ear, ‘magically’ pulls out a rainbow rose from seemingly no where.
“it seems we’re even now, hm?” he gestures, handing the rose over with a wink, leaving a cheeky kiss to your jawline in gratitude.
LYNETTE — 琳妮特
knowing lynette’s character and demeanour intricately, you’re aware that grand gestures aren’t at all her thing. she can barely handle a tea time conversation with someone if she’s forced to play an active role.
the bracelet sat enclosed within your palm as you rambled on about your day to lynette, feeling an unshakable amount of anxiety vomiting into your gut for no reason but overthinking. you’ve been avoiding giving her this bracelet for a week now in fear she’ll find very little value or use in something so minimal.
“you have something you want to give me.” a phrase intended as a question, but said more so as a statement.
“i…uh, how did you know?” you laugh and play with the strings of the bracelet cautiously as to not break it.
“your eyebrows are furrowed and you keep glancing away from me.” she analyses you like a real robot…i guess she’s really committed to that bit. either that or she just loves you too much that being unable to read your expressions would be a grievous sin on her part.
with a sigh of defeat, you slide over the bracelet to her with an awkward smile paling your usually joyous lips. “i made a friendship bracelet for you…thought it’d be cute.” lynette doesn’t understand people around her a majority of the time. truly, she doesn’t even want to, it’s not like she needs to either since she has her brother to leech on and others to fool with her robotic party trick and yet, she can’t help but wonder why it is you choose to defend yourself over something so sweet.
“thank you, it’s cute. i’ll wear it for my next show if i’m able to.” her lips curve upward in what to most would seem like a twenty degree uplift, but to you, it meant quite literally everything.
FREMINET — 菲米尼
nothing. no amount of experiences with his interactions with people could’ve prepared him for the absolute heart attack that was this gesture.
he loved it, too much. he wishes he could just dip back into the ocean depths. indulge in a meaningless conversation with the tidalga, or even express his feelings of adoration to you to pers. but currently, it was only you two sharing a humble moment together. no person he could lean in, no space he could rush the words he’d love to say to you in gratitude for the gift.
and you knew that. and that’s what he also loved about you. how willing you were to accept and love him even with him being less socially adept than a coral reef. feeling the cool and vibrant coloured bracelet tilt around his wrist and knot in place, he smiled wobbly.
between the silence, you knew that the quiet smile and nod meant more than his stammered and hushed words could ever express. leaning in to press a kiss to the side of his wrist and cheek, freminet manages to gulp a bit of courage and swallow his static and tingly anxiety, reaching to kiss your forehead. letting his lips linger momentarily before he backed away. “thank you…”
FURINA — 芙宁娜
heartbeat pounding in her ears. eyes narrowing into puffy circles. her bottom lip bitten brutally by her gnashing teeth. hands shaky, making her teacup tremble within her grip. why were you glaring at her so intensely?!
first the invitation for a tea party with only you two as the special guests. second the ominous letter claiming you two “need to talk.” and now, you were completely quiet and calmly snacking, drinking away several blends of tea without a word! it was absolutely ridiculous to think the one person she has entrusted her still mending heart with is ignoring all the clear signs of hesitance and vulnerabilities within the relationship despite them all being initiated by them!
“so, furina.” you clasp your hands together, an impish look transforming your usually peaceful face. her heartbeat stammers as her eyes meet yours in a tender glance. “uhm..yeah?” furina attempts to appear more courageous than she is, but truly, she’s shitting it (for lack of a better term).
the silence stretched on for too long before you giggled and pulled up a blue and white toned bracelet from your sleeves, shaking it with your fingertips with a kind smile. “i made you a friendship bracelet!”
a ghost wavered out of her frightened soul, the tea in her hand put down at this point so she can savour the comforting feeling of her head in her hands. being a gorgeous, shining star in the spotlight of fontaine’s grand stage, furina isn’t a secondhand stranger to gifts. whether they’ve been given to her personally, awkwardly, silently, with no words signed or a creepy letter attached expressing their reverence.
she wishes you’d sometimes go that route instead of matching her in these theatrics! begrudgingly, despite the little flutter in her heart, she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and looked at you with a pout that you couldn’t help but lean in to kiss.
NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特
neuvillette hums a tune along to the orchestra of the vinyl. an accompanying sound of his pen hastily itching onto the paper adding to the rhythm. his door opens and while he’d normally remain quietly focused on his piling paperwork, he recognised this particular patter of footsteps coming towards him. you.
smiling habitually and peering his head up, neuvillette greeted you lovingly. “hello, my love. what brings you here today? did you get in trouble?” he knew the reason you’d come ushering into his office was hardly with the intention of getting him to aid you with your troublesome quarrels, but rather, you just wanting his love and affection that he was more than willing to fulfil. if time allowed, of course.
“no, no. nothing like that, yet…” you grinned and neuvillette looked at you with a playful look of disappointment at the hesitance. “i made you a gift!” with a prideful aura that was less arrogance and more pure joy, you presented the bracelet to him. he wasted no time in stirring the small bundle of fabric and beads with his gloves. “look,” you pointed eagerly, “i even managed to commission some furina and melusine charms! you know how we always joke about them being like our children? i thought i’d be a cute addition!”
he exhaled a satisfactory laugh in agreement, interlocking your hand in his to press a kiss to your knuckles in thanks. “cute, indeed. thank you, mon chéri. you’re too sweet sometimes.” you sit on the edge of his desk, watching excitedly as he places the bracelet onto his wrist. “as a gift in return, after i’m done with work, how about we take a nice stroll together? i assure you, no rain will interrupt our serenity so long as you’re by my side.”
NAVIA — 娜维娅
immediately gushes at you as your palm opens to present the gold and blue hued bracelet to her, adorned with rose charms that you personally painted in gold and a greyish blue to accentuate her outfit if she decides to wear it. it was less a decision and more a necessity.
she delicately handled the bracelet onto her wrist and kissed both of your cheeks in gratitude, “thank you so much, sweetheart! this is so cute…but what’s the occasion? it’s not our anniversary or anything like that.” navia smiled at you, playing with some of the little roses and twirling them around in appreciation.
“it’s a friendship bracelet!”
her lips pucker into a pout as she starts to coddle you within her arms, occasionally swinging you around gently. “you’re so absolutely adorable!” she nips at your earlobe, kissing it as a form of apology. “but honey, you do know we aren’t just friends right?” navia captures your cheeks within her palms. “we’re lovers!” she presses several kisses across your face, ending her affectionate spillage with a press of her lips on yours.
“oops— haha, sorry i got lipstick all over you, darling.” navia chuckled and began wiping away all the lipstick smudges from your pretty face. yet her attempts bore no fruit. instead of wiping away anything, she only made it oh so much worse. “ah well, guess we both got presents from one another today?” she snickers, twirling her wrist to show off the bracelet with a wink.
GA MING — 嘉明
if you thought this man’s eyes couldn’t get any brighter, then you’re absolutely dead wrong. if you thought he could jump high while lion dancing, you’re also absolutely dead wrong!
he could outrun god right now. if you asked him to defeat a hoard of lined up mondstadt and liyue treasure hoarders, he’d do it in a heartbeat. what possessed you to be so cute?! do you seriously think he can take another heart attack like this after the one he had during lantern rite?
you aren’t able to say much or even explain your reasons for as to why you decided to make this nor what it even is or represents before ga ming smacks his lips messily all over your face. a mixture of your own gloss from kissing you earlier and his own saliva stick to your skin sloppily and you can’t help but feel both enamoured and grossly repulsed at the mixture of sticky wetness on your cheeks as well as the love that seemed to glow like fireworks.
“mmuah~! i love you so much…are you trying to make me cry?” he pouts, becoming a giggling mess as soon as you roll your eyes at his dramatics.
he keeps the bracelet on every day. sometimes he’ll be pouty all day if he’s unable to wear it in fear of it snapping and wasting away all your precious hard work due to either his negligence or the pains of manual labour…he’ll have to cope with simply glancing at the red imprints the beads had left intended onto his skin for satisfaction.
CHIORI — 千织
“what is this?” she jingles the vivid and strong orange coloured bracelet in front of her face, appreciating the tiny details of the cute sewing equipment charms and what looked to be handmade porcelain bows embedded onto some beads.
“it’s a friendship bracelet!” you gleam at her, pride evident in your face at your creation. she hums in agreement; it was certainly something alright.
“oh. cute.” that’s all the genuine feedback she could give you without mentioning how tacky it would look with her attire — it was an affectionate gesture, one which she didn’t want to undermine and therefore, with little complaint despite her own personal conflicts, she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist, extending her hand out and twirling it to admire the craftsmanship.
you won’t see her actively wearing it out in every day life, perhaps you’ll manage to sneak a glimpse of her playing with the beads while she’s going over some designs in her sketchbook but otherwise, her gloved hands contain nothing but the smell of perfume.
not that she’d admit it outright until you asked, but the real reason she refuses to wear your bracelet daily is for a simple reason; she doesn’t want it to break in order to have that constant reminder of you as she goes to bed and stares up at her ceiling with the bracelet being coddled between her fingertips.
ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺
“you’re so childish.” she muses, tracing her nails across the beads, eliciting a weird clacking sound as the charms and beads hit against each other. “but i suppose that’s also an alluring aspect to you.” she ushers the bracelet onto her wrist. despite it being completely covered, there was something even more intimate about her gift being a part of a hidden identity for her; your affection only intended for your gorgeous eyes and her narrowed ones.
tilting your head to her eye-level, you can smell her musky perfume. she leaned in for a kiss. her lips tasting like flavoured gloss consisting of all sorts of red berries, an accurate mirror to the rosey colour of her bright lips. a sneaky hand traced circles around your hips and waist as she attempted to take your breath away. a scythe is a befitting weapon for a woman who’s kiss was practically a notion for death.
she’s used to her children offering gifts and trinkets to her. rocks, random jewellery they crafted with glue, messy crayon drawings, sometimes even in the most macabre scenarios, blood itself. each of those, however, she cherished wholeheartedly. the same way she’d cherish the bond between you two that she’d never allow for anyone to break.
so long as she continuously receives silly gestures like this, she’s convinced she’ll be able to hold you within her embrace with very little effort.
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©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ
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hyunebunx · 2 months
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⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ''what are we?' with skz
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⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff and a little angst and a lot of uncertainties
⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: in honor of 'i like it' , i think this is a very fitting first post lmao
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𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧ - “whatever you’d like us to be.”
He smiles, and you swear it lights up the whole room. Sweet, considerate Chan who never wanted to make you uncomfortable by rushing into things. The man you’ve been seeing for months now that didn’t put a label on your relationship just to give you space and time to sort out whatever else was going on in your life. The one who’s been there for you even if he didn’t have to, especially since you weren’t official, or anything at all.
The best man you could ever ask for.
That’s why, the next action feels like the most natural one.
Taking a deep breath, you return his smile and lean forward, resting your forehead on his. He stares deeply into your eyes, mesmerizing you with their beauty while his smile never falters.
“Then, would you do me the pleasure of being my boyfriend?”
Chan can’t help but chuckle, swiftly grabbing you by the waist to set you in his lap before pecking your lips. “It would be my honor, baby.”
𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧ - “you tell me.”
Looks you dead in the eyes, with one eyebrow raised defiantly, the food he prepared and laid out nicely suddenly forgotten. This wasn’t the answer you were expecting. However, it’s such a Lee Minho one that you can’t even be surprised for more than a moment. Shuffling in your seat, you clear your throat before complying, all caution out the window.
“You’re my boyfriend. Only mine.”
Minho nods slowly just like a cat, his doe eyes never leaving yours as he continues to give you his undivided attention. “Alright. So then, what are we?”
You watch him, trying to understand what exactly he wants to hear right now. Your answer rests on the tip of your tongue yet, you hesitate, not knowing if he shares your feelings on the matter. He’s always been a complicated man, not giving anything away.
What if he doesn’t feel the same?”
You take a deep breath. “We are…lovers. A couple.”
This causes Minho’s smile to return, eyes twinkling again as he finally pushes a plate of food in your direction. “There you go. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧ - “whatever we are, I like it.”
Changbin shrugs, bringing you closer to his chest by the arm he wrapped around your shoulders. The movie on the tv serves as background noise as your feelings threaten to overwhelm you, ready to take you down a well-known path of overthinking. What does that even mean?
Does that mean that he likes you? Loves you? Dislikes you with every fibre of his being but is too comfortable to say it? Usually, you would appreciate Changbin’s laid-back nature but now, it only makes you feel worse.
Why do relationships have to be so complicated? With him by your side, you thought it would be all smooth sailing but it looks like that isn’t the case.
“Y/n?” He asks, tearing his eyes away from the screen. “Is everything okay?”
His concern seems real, but is it really? Or is it just an act meant to have you fall even deeper in love with him? At this point, you don’t even know.
Shaking your head, you hide your face in the crock of his neck, choosing to ignore your screaming mind in favour of basking in his affection just for a while longer.
“Yeah, things are great.”
𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧ - “is this your way of asking me to make it official?”
Ever the hopeless romantic, Hyunjin gives you the sweetest smile, the sight making your heart beat faster. Oh, what you wouldn’t give to make things official with Hwang Hyunjin. But, would he want that or is he just playing with you? Your concerns seem unreasonable since he isn’t that kind of person but you never know.
“And what if it is?”
The smile turns cocky, resembling a smirk more than anything. “So, you like me?”
You giggle to hide your growing embarrassment and nerves. “I mean, I’m sure you know the answer to that question.”
He fakes ignorance, looking at you with big, puppy eyes that still pull at your heartstrings. Hyunjin knows all the buttons he needs to push to get you wherever he wants.
“Nope. Do tell.”
Without missing a beat, you say exactly what’s on your mind, wanting to pay him back for all the teasing by short-circuiting his brain.
“I love you.”
𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧ - “Is that a rhetorical question? You genuinely want an answer?”
Poor baby has never been more flabbergasted in his entire life. What do you mean ‘what are we’?! This isn’t high school, and you aren’t kids, what are you even confused about? He’s always made himself as clear as possible when it came to your relationship.
“You’re my baby, the love of my life, what kind of question is that?”
You shrug, turning on your side to face him. “Be more specific, Sungie.”
His mouth falls open comically, and you do everything in your power to not burst out laughing at the sight.
“We’re literally laying in bed together right now. I said I love you less than five minutes ago.”
You move closer to rest your head on his sturdy chest. “Yeah, but what exactly ARE we?”
Jisung stares down at you without a word for a few moments, trying to understand if you’re fucking with him or not until he sees the beginning of a grin stretching across your face and scoffs, turning to face away from you.
“Go to bed, Y/n, I’m too tired for your nonsense.”
𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧ - “what do you want us to be?”
You’re greeted by big, hopeful eyes as Felix turns to look at you like you’ve got all the answers he’s ever sought for. Like you’re a genie that is capable of granting his every selfish wish. For him, you kind of are since your relationship pretty much marches to the beat of your own drum, with him just tagging along for the ride.
Felix would like to change that though – would love to just take matters into his own hands for once and answer your question with full confidence. But, he can’t. So, he throws the ball in your court again, wanting to avoid getting hurt.
You don’t answer right away, instead letting your head fall on his shoulder as you take your time to think his question over.
“How about…we try being more than friends?”
His face lights up instantly, buzzing with happiness at your proposal. Beaming, he nods before gently grabbing the back of your head to connect your lips in an eager kiss.
𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧ - “a mess.”
You’re expecting to see him smirking or even rolling his eyes at your question, however, once you turn around, none of those things happen. He’s just looking at you, face devoid of any emotion, and that’s when you realize that to him, this is serious. Seugmin isn’t playing around nor is he avoiding the subject – that is genuinely what he thinks on the matter. To him, whatever relationship you’ve developed, is a complete mess. If it’s a mess he enjoys or on the contrary, finds troublesome, is a question for another day.
“Well,” you begin, still taken aback by his blunt answer. “You’re my mess.”
This time, he does roll his eye, acting more annoyed than he actually is as you wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind and lean down to plant a kiss on his cheek.
“Whose else would I be, dummy?” he shakes his head, voice uncharacteristically soft. Turning around in his seat, Seungmin moves to embrace you properly before burying his face in your soft hair.
𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧ - “you know what we are. You just want to hear me say it.”
You nod, taking another sip from your drink before releasing his hand. “Alright. Then say it.”
When he sees you stop in the middle of the crossroad, he follows, visibly confused. His hand moves to grab yours again, however, you pull away, shaking your head.
“Answer me properly, Jeongin.”
His eyebrows furrow as he tries to wrap his head around what’s suddenly gotten into you. Did you really want to have a conversation as serious as this here, out in the open? What was happening?
“I – “ He feels his whole face warm up, voice cracking and not allowing any other words to slip out. Jeongin knows what he wants to say, he’s had a whole speech prepared for a while now. But, being put on the spot like that has him freezing up so, he ends up giving a totally different answer, one that breaks both of your hearts simultaneously.
“We’re…” He pauses, looking down, “just friends, of course.”
The look on your face hurts so much, he almost doubles down in pain as you turn your back to him and walk away from his life, presumably for good. He has really screwed up this time.
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starsofang · 2 months
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everybody had forgotten your birthday. well — everybody except for one person. that person remained a mystery, leaving you a wrapped gift on top of your desk.
the wrapping was pretty, decked in your favorite color with a neat bow slapped on top. it was a stereotypical gift, but it was the only one you’d received for your birthday, and to you, the execution was as beautiful as ever.
one thing was missing, and it was a name. on the tag, rather than saying who it was from, it was a scribbled out heart replaced with a simple smiley face. you didn’t have a clue who the gift could be from, but whoever delivered it was clearly on the fence about revealing their identity.
upon unwrapping the box, you discovered a jewelry box. black, velvet, simple. opening it was an entirely different story.
a lovely bracelet, shiny and new, riddled with little charms of your favorite things. a neat touch of your birthstone was in the mix, as well as a small initial for your name. it was gorgeous, the most perfect gift you could ever ask for, and you desperately wanted to thank the person who retrieved it for you.
you had your suspicions. there was johnny, who could be quite the brat but also a thoughtful friend. or gaz, who was always considerate of your interests and gave you open ears no matter the time of day. ghost didn’t seem the sentimental type, nor did price.
it wasn’t until the next morning, as you walked into the rec room to make yourself a cup of tea, did you know. you adorned the bracelet with pride, the little charms jingling as you poured hot water into your mug.
price stepped in, greeting you with his signature kind smile. you mirrored him, offering a good morning. he joined you in making a tea for himself, the air filled with a comfortable silence. he seemed hyper focused on dipping his tea bag rather than look at you, and if you squinted, you could sense a brief awkwardness looming out of him.
“i see you liked your gift,” he murmured quietly, sparing a quick glance to the bracelet before returning to his tea.
you startled in surprise, eyes wide as you peered up at him while he continued to avoid looking back. “that was you?” you asked.
he hummed in response, finally turning to you to lean his hip on the counter. he lifted his mug, taking a long sip of his fresh tea. “wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world, bug. i was just worried about gettin’ you the right thing.”
“i didn’t know you remembered,” you confessed shyly. you lifted your arm to inspect the bracelet once more, the little initial dangling prettily. “it’s beautiful. i love it. thank you, john.”
price cleared his throat, looking almost flustered. he darted his eyes to your bracelet before looking away again, hiding in his mug. “it’s nothin’, bug.”
“and the crossed out heart on the gift tag was also nothing, i assume?” you grinned knowingly. “the smiley face was a nice touch, though the heart would’ve been cute to keep, too.”
price grumbled into his mug, side eyeing you. “thought the heart might be too much. don’t want you gettin’ the wrong idea.”
“what idea would that be, sir?” you asked teasingly, taking an innocent sip of your tea.
price attempted to hide his smile, but you could see the small quirks on the corners of his mouth, begging to turn up. “minx,” he muttered in feigned annoyance, giving an affectionate pinch to your cheek before stalking off to the exit of the room.
you smiled bashfully, holding the bracelet dear to your chest as you watched him go, the telltale of a smile on his lips leaving with him.
maybe if you prodded him some more, his initial would join yours on the bracelet one day.
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fkitwebhaal · 5 months
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Anyway, here are my thoughts about what each of the companions would present on if they had to give the rest of the party a PowerPoint presentation:
Gale: A completely accurate and detailed lecture regarding the theories of teleportation magic, how it works, and the differences between it and plane shift. There are multiple charts and graphs.
Wyll: “Choosing your hero name: an adventurer’s guide” He does have suggestions for the entire party.
Karlach: “Ranking bars in the gate based on how much they remind me of Avernus.” She has provided illustrations that she made herself. Anything in the Upper City is ranked “like Avernus” because “occupied entirely by pricks.”
Shadowheart: “So I was wrong about Shar: a reluctant apology.” It’s mostly a debunk of Shar’s lies but the entire time it does look like she is pulling teeth. However, she cheers up considerably when she presents on some of the church’s secrets, including the weird ass code names for things that she always thought were a little silly.
Lae’zel: a very educational and complete history of her people’s war against the mind flayers. It’s all rather academic until the last slide which says “AND THIS IS WHY WE DON’T EAT THE WORMS” in all caps.
Astarion: “Ranking you by whose blood I’d want to drink most.” In order, it is as follows Gale (rancid), Karlach (spicy), Minthara (probably is poisonous after all the poison she’s been exposed to), Jaheria (that story about what she did to one of the spawn was memorable), Shadowheart (does cleric blood taste radiant?), Lae’zel (curious how Gith taste, doesn’t want to die), Minsc (large and has extra blood to spare), Halsin (can turn into a bear, think of all that real estate), Wyll (canon verified snack)
Halsin: “Foraging: what’s edible and what isn’t” Gale takes very dutiful notes given someone gave him a mushroom two ten days ago that gave the entire camp food poisoning. Astarion, the only one who did not get food poisoning, who has completely forgotten what he foraged was the culprit, takes 0 notes.
Minthara: Battle orders and tactics. All of these fools need to get whipped into shape.
Jaheria: “Get it Fucking Together: Stop Doing this Shit.” What follows is a callout of everyone’s worst habits and decisions. One slide just says “stop snitching.”
Minsc: it’s just pictures of Boo.
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becca-e-barnes · 2 months
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"Slippery When Wet."
Taking a quick jump back to the 'Shit He Said' series because I haven't given it nearly enough time.
I think I'd almost forgotten how it feels to be with someone who lets you feel like you're their entire focus. God, it's nice.
It's nice to spend time with someone who makes you feel so thrilled to be yourself. It's nice to want someone so intensely you can't wait to touch them again. Yeah, it's been nice 😵‍💫
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Unprotected sex, cream pie, oral sex (f receiving), thigh fucking, alcohol mention
Summary: You and Bucky spend some time relaxing together
Minors, do not interact
"These reusable plastic cups might have to do." You're standing on your tiptoes, reaching into the cupboard in the Airbnb kitchen, searching for the one thing you hadn't thought to bring with you.
"Those would be perfect." You hear in response from the bedroom just down the hall. "The rules said 'No glass in the hot tub'."
A sensible rule and one you're more than content to abide by.
One rule of few.
"You can open the champagne bottle. I don't need to go home with a horrible injury." You tease, lifting two of the plastic cups and making your way outside. Sandals of some description would have been smart but it's only a few steps out to the tub.
The cover has already been removed, the water is still and it's hard not to pause for a second and admire the view. Rolling green hills, a lake in the distance, flowers all around the patio and the sun beginning to set, bringing a very slight chill to the evening air.
There couldn't be a more perfect evening to climb into a hot tub and enjoy the scenery.
So that's exactly what you do.
The water is warm as you sink down in, settling yourself into one of the grooves. The level comes to just above your shoulders, lapping against the bottom of your chin as you adjust and get comfortable, looking over the edge at your surroundings.
"We'd need be careful getting out. The steps are slippery when wet." Bucky doesn't take long to join you, reading from the sign on the fencing that was strategically placed to give you some privacy.
Who knew he's so into rules.
Settling beside him feels natural. It's familiar and comfortable and reassuring in a way you didn't know you needed.
He couldn't possibly know how you've craved him since you saw him last. You'll do everything you can to make him feel it though.
He pours champagne into the two little plastic cups, handing one to you before looking for the button that starts the bubbles.
You clink the cups together, taking a sip from your respective glasses while the jets burst to life around you both.
"It's such a mild evening." You hum, cuddling in against his side, enjoying the chaste kiss he leaves on the top of your head.
"It is." He agrees, tilting your chin up so your lips meet his.
They're warm and soft and plump and taste faintly of champagne and there's nothing else you'd rather do in that moment than kiss this man more.
You break away quickly though, choosing instead to spend the time catching up. You talk about work and how things have changed since you last met up. You talk about your plans, your hopes and your fears. He gives you perspectives you hadn't considered and advice you fully intend to take, all while curled up in the bubbling tub.
The champagne slowly disappears. The glasses are filled up again and then that disappears too. You laugh together. You tease each other. You enjoy the company of someone you'd like to see a whole lot more of but understandably can't.
He gives you a reasoned perspective on the things that bother you. Somehow, you don't feel silly telling him about the little things that upset you recently or the worries you have. He's understanding and considerate and so damn fun to be around.
You pepper kisses across his broad shoulders, absentmindedly play with the little short curls of hair on his chest and he lets you feel so entirely worshipped.
He holds you in a way that makes you feel entirely wanted; like all of you is exactly the way it's meant to be and there's nothing he'd dream of changing. It's so incredibly attractive to feel so wholly appreciated. You want him in the very same way and every touch reminds you of that.
All too soon, the sun sets over the hills. The bottle is empty and the water starts to get to a temperature that's just a little cooler than comfortable.
You could sit here with him forever and never run out of things to talk about. That said, your fingertips are beyond wrinkled by the water and it's probably time to call it a night.
Somewhere in those last 30 or so minutes, you realised you need him again. The moment you'd arrived here earlier, the curtains had been pulled and you'd taken the opportunity to relieve some stress before dinner but it's not enough.
"Can I show you what else is slippery when wet?" You tease, pressing your lips to his with an urgency that surprises you.
He seems entirely into that idea, pulling your body impossibly close, his hand gliding up the inside of your thigh to rub against the thin material of your bikini.
Squirming in his lap is becoming a bit of a theme.
Before you get too far, you carefully step out of the hot tub and scamper inside, letting him close up the tub while you rinse off the pool water in the shower very quickly.
The anticipation gets to you, much like it always does. It only ever adds to the fun.
By the time he's also rinsed and dried off, you're perched on the edge of the bed, enjoying the feeling of your own fingertip trailing lazily over your clit. Your legs are spread wide, giving him full view of your glistening, soaked sex.
"I've been dreaming of this." He mumbles, kneeling at the edge of the bed and replacing your fingertip with his tongue.
Fuck, he's so good at that. His tongue flicks and thrashes, his neck working overtime to deliver you a sensation that not comparable to anything else you've ever experienced. He groans as he licks your body, enjoying the taste of your arousal and the slick wetness coating his chin to his nose.
You could let him do that forever and never grow tired of it. Your fingers have woven through his hair at some point and your thighs have clamped tight around his ears.
While you don't want to, his neck will thank you for suggesting a change.
You tug him up, eager to taste your own arousal on his lips and tongue and he doesn't disappoint. His tongue glides against yours, his wet chin rubbing against you and the intensity leaves you totally breathless.
You're almost frantic in how you need him now. "Please. I want you." You practically whine, grasping his firming length and giving him a few slow strokes until he's totally ready.
"Your hand always feels better than my own." He half laughs, half gasps, grinding his hips in time with the movements of your hand.
It's needy and desperate from both of you, much like it was earlier with the tip of his dick nudging your clit perfectly while he fucked your thighs.
His length slides against your eager core, massaging your arousal against his dick. It feels almost luxurious to be able to take your time with him. There's no rush, other than that dictated by your own need.
Before long, he's sinking into your body with a low groan, enjoying the way he feels your heat engulfing his shaft.
"You're so fucking wet." He moans, bottoming out and kissing your shoulders.
You know you are and it's borderline embarrassing how quickly he was able to get you like that.
"Such a pretty angel." He pulls back, giving himself a chance to sink into you again and it steals the breath from both of you. "You feel like Heaven. You're so hot around my cock."
He's bound to still be sensitive from the round earlier that day but it doesn't stop him.
"God, you're going to earn every drop of cum I give you. I'm going to pump you so full." He's so delightfully filthy and you love hearing him talk to you like that.
Your hand weaves its way between your bodies, finding your throbbing, neglected clit and rubbing it in rough circles.
"You want to cum inside me this time?" You love how you never really know what to expect with him. He he pulled out earlier in the day, choosing to glaze your chest and tummy with an impressive load instead.
"I'd cum inside you every time if you didn't look so pretty covered in it." His thrusts are faster now, meeting the rhythm your fingers have dictated you need.
"I want you to cum inside me this time. Fill me until I'm dripping." The image in your head as you're saying it is enough to make you quiver. You're chasing your high far faster than you thought you'd be but you're sure he's not far behind you. The notion of his cum filling you is a love that you both share.
"Want to taste it inside you when I'm done. Let it leak out of you and then press it back in with my tongue."
That's all it takes. One filthy little fantasy and you're trembling, cumming so hard you see stars. You work yourself through your high, riding it out on his cock and you're vaguely aware that you've milked his release from him too. You feel him spilling inside you, blowing another huge load into your eager body with a low moan and a few curses.
When you're both spent, he collapses onto the bed beside you, pulling you close to him for a cuddle.
"Give me a few seconds. Then I'll get to work." He hums, breathlessly.
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safetypinxtales · 7 months
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400 years | Azriel
summary: drinking with your best friend takes a turn when you happen upon some of Feyre's art supplies.
words: 3.2k
warnings: steamy 18+ mdni, nudity, sex is insinuated but not described, kissing, alcohol consumption (drink responsibly), reader and azriel are drunk, making out, big dick azriel, fluff, no use of y/n, neutrally described reader/no reader description
notes: happy valentines day, here's some azriel for youuu🤍 I got the inspiration for this whilst reading this fic by @solbaby7 bc who wouldn't want to draw az like one of your French girls?? Frankly there is nothing I would like to do more. Their fic is amazing and you guys should totally check it out if you haven't already! Anyways, I'm sorry for the "shut the door" type ending, but I cannot write smut to save my life so this will have to do. Hope you enjoy!🤍
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Thud.
The sound of Azriel accidentally smacking his head on the wall as he plopped down on the sofa across from you echoed within the walls of the cabin, and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. Azriel’s own shaking shoulders and scrunched up nose let you know that he couldn’t help it either. 
But that was to be expected wasn’t it? The past hour had been filled with nothing but bubbling laughter from the both of you, giggles from Az, and some very graceful snorts… also definitely from Azriel. 
The reason why he had brought you to Rhys’ cabin in the mountains was long forgotten after the two nearly empty bottles of alcohol on the table in front of you. The heartache of getting stood up on your date earlier that evening buried under a considerable amount of drinks. 
“As long as the glass is never empty in between refills, they don’t count.”
Azriel’s words from earlier came back to you, only fuelling your cramp inducing giggles. 
That had always been your motto in times like these. A consistency that had lasted centuries. 
“I can’t breathe,” you wheezed out in between fits of hysteria, your arms coming up to wrap around yourself. But your laughter didn’t die down, and neither did Azriel’s. Your uttered words only seemed to fire him on as he tipped over on his side, hand landing a slap on the armrest.
Seeing him like this, so free and relaxed, was rare. You could probably count each separate occasion on your hands. He only really let go like this when you needed it. When the urge to drink your walls down and flush the pain away seemed like the only remedy to whatever situation you were dealing with.
It was a very rare occurrence indeed. But one of your favourites. 
Azriel’s carefree giggles, that luminous light in his eyes; you swore it could make budding flowers bloom.
You sat up straight, and the situation stopped feeling so funny as you laid eyes on Azriel’s still laughing frame. The uncontrolled giggles, and the way his wings shook in time with his chest. It was enchanting, the sight of your best friend being so relaxed, so happy. 
The shadows that were usually crowding his frame were nowhere to be seen – with the exception of the lone swirl of darkness slowly snaking its way around your wrist, coming down to entwine with your fingers every now and again.
It took a couple more minutes until Azriel’s laughter had finally seized. You both sat on separate sofas, smiles stretched wide and eyes glazed over from the alcohol you had ingested, and as your breathing started to return to normal a thought struck.
“What?” Azirel asked as he leaned forward on his elbows, a curious glint in his eyes. 
“What?” You prodded back, more confused than curious, blinking a few times to try and rid the alcohol-induced veil that surrounded you. What was he on about? 
“Well,” he waved one floppy hand in your direction, “you just perked up, it was like you grew ten inches,” he exclaimed, before continuing in a slightly lowered, bemused voice, ”and that means you just had one of your ideas.”
The corners of your mouth quirked upwards as you slowly nodded your head. He was right – you had come up with an idea.
“Well, I was just thinking about how Feyre mentioned after the last time she was here,” you stood up from your seat, swaying slightly but quickly finding your balance, doing your very best to not bump into the table separating you. “Something about forgotten art supplies.”
Like a predator sighting a prey, Azriel’s interest piqued in a moment. His razor sharp focus was on your every step as you walked towards the supply closet at the other side of the room. 
The closet was unusually dusty, a strange thing for being Rhysand’s property. He was usually very meticulous when it came to things always being spotless and presentable. But you supposed that a small, rarely used supply closet in the family cabin wasn’t a priority of his. Keeping it clean was not a good enough use of his magic. 
Luckily for you, that just made your quest easier. You just had to look for whatever was covered in the least amount of dust bunnies.
“Aha!” You whipped around to face your friend, triumphantly displaying the sketch pad and charcoals in your hands. 
Azriel’s eyebrows shot up at your revelation, grin still present on his beautiful face.
“That’s your big idea? Drawing?”
“You should know I used to be quite the whiz with the charcoals when I was younger,” you rebutted and Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. 
“I have seen your penmanship, so I will believe this talent of yours when I see it,” he muttered and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer audacity in his words. Your penmanship was not that bad.
Taking a few steps back in his direction with a huff, you flipped through the sketch pad in search of an unused sheet of parchment. You were gonna show him, alright…
You couldn’t help but admire Feyre’s old sketches as you went through the pages. Some you recognised as early-version sketches of paintings you had seen around the river house, and some were–
“Oh!” Your fingers froze as your eyes landed on what seemed to be an anatomical study. A very detailed, very beautiful, anatomical study of – oh my Gods. You felt your cheeks heat up. 
“Is that Rhysand?!”
At the screech in your voice and the mention of his brother’s name, Azriel shot up off the sofa to get a peek at whatever had managed to pull such a reaction from you. 
The warmth of his body radiated into your side as he peered over your shoulder at the drawing of the very naked high lord. 
You noticed him stiffening out of the corner of your eyes and then, like a tether snapping, laughter started to boom inside the walls of the cabin. With a steadying hand on your shoulder he doubled over in giggles so contagious it didn’t take long before you joined in with his hysterics. 
“No way,” he wheezed, “oh Gods – I can’t wait to tell Cassian!” 
The mere thought of how Cassian would react to such a revelation, the look on his face, had you clutching your stomach. Poor Rhys would never hear the end of it.
And by the cauldron, if you don’t wake up with rippling abs tomorrow from the amount of laughter this night had brought….
“You can’t blame her though,” you mused once you managed to get your giggles under control, “I mean, nice job Feyre.” A low whistle left you as you peered down at your clearly blessed high lord.
The laughter quieted down beside you and you raised your gaze to look at Azriel, only to be met with an incredulous look. 
“What, I’m just calling it as I see it!” You exclaimed and raised your hands in defence, charcoals and disrobed Rhysand still in your grasp.
His eyes flicked down to the sketch pad, before slowly coming back up to meet yours, that look never leaving his face.
“Oh, please.” 
The words fell from his lips with such cool confidence your smile faltered momentarily, eyebrows knotting together.
“You can’t be serious?” He asked, and when you stayed quiet he continued, “that’s nothing.”
Nothing?
From where you were standing, respectfully, it looked like everything.
“What? Like you can do better?” 
Your challenge seemed to light a spark in his eyes and time slowed as he took a step backwards, fingers coming down to grip the hem of his t-shirt.
One swift movement and his shirt was off, muscles rippling under his bronzed skin as he tossed the dark fabric on the floor, his eyes not once straying from yours. 
He kept backing up, step after torturous step, until his legs hit the sofa. The corners of his mouth tugged up in a smirk as he plopped down, arms behind his head, far leg propped up, large wings casually draped over the armrest.
“Draw me then, whiz,” he challenged, using your word from earlier, “let me be your muse.” 
The heat crawling up your neck, scorching the tips of your ears, were not solely from the liquor as you padded over to the opposite sofa. 
No, it was from something very different. Something strikingly sobering, yet oh-so intoxicating. 
You sat down and carefully placed the pad in your lap, flipping through it until you reached a blank page. You moved some hair out of your eyes and tucked it behind your ear, picked up a charcoal and brought it to the parchment – when you felt yourself hesitate. You took your lip between your teeth as you contemplated your next move. The risk. The absurdity. The excitement. 
He was your friend. Your best friend, and yet…
You lifted your gaze to find Azriel’s eyes locked to yours with such focus, such challenge. Like he was sizing up an opponent on the battlefield. 
His eyes flicked down to your hand, if only for a split second, as you gently put down the charcoal. He cocked an eyebrow when his gaze once again found yours. 
“I just,” you took a deep breath, “I just don’t think it’s really fair on Rhys, you know?” The shadow around your wrist flickered, as if sensing what you were about to do. The lines you were about to cross.
You watched as Azriel’s eyebrows drew together, and you fought the twitching of your lips as you continued, “I mean, you are still half clothed.”
With a slight shrug of your shoulders, you watched as your words sank in. How his eyes seemed to darken, the corner of his mouth raised in the smallest of smirks. 
“Is that so?” He mused, and you tried your best to level his stare. To not back down. Not shy away. 
With an incline of your head, you nodded. And watched his hand inch closer to his pants. Down past that dark trail of hair, to the laces tied together at the waistband. Watched as he grabbed a hold of the string… and pulled. 
You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t focus on anything other than his hand. How his fingers untied the font of his pants so slowly, so delicately it felt like torture. You were transfixed by his fingers. Loosening the laces, his thumb slipping beneath the waistband…
You snapped your gaze up to his face, to find him still looking at you – studying you. 
Your breath hitched in your throat at the sound of his pants hitting the floor. With your eyes still locked to his, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you wondered what you had gotten yourself into. Here you were, in front of your fully naked best friend – about to draw him. 
Let me be your muse.
His words from earlier echoed in your mind as you tore your gaze from his face and dragged it lower, and lower, until…
Your head emptied. Your tongue felt about as dry as the beaches you had visited in Summer last year. Because the sight that beheld you was breath-taking. 
The length between his legs, standing aroused and proud, really did make Rhysand’s portrait look like nothing. 
A part of you had almost hoped that Azriel’s confidence had just been for show. That it was just his competitiveness shining through, a feat to best his brother. 
The reality?
Monstruos would have been a fitting word had the sight not compelled you so. Had it not caused you to burn for him. Crave him. 
Delicious seemed to be a better word to describe your friend. Beautiful. Mouth-watering. A thing of art.
Which is why you picked up your discarded charcoal and put it to the parchment. 
You studied the planes of his body, the hard lines, the soft skin. The muscles that could have been carved by the Mother herself. You avoided looking at his face though, instead focusing on the various scars that marred his skin, telling stories of battles and fights. Of brawls with his brothers. 
You felt him looking at you, however. He hadn’t stopped looking at you. Not since the sketch pad came into play.
It made it annoyingly hard to focus. 
The scratching sound of charcoal on paper stopped. 
“How long have we known each other?” Your voice wavered, mouth dry. You cleared your throat and raised your gaze to finally meet his. 
Azriel tipped his head to the side, contemplating, “about 400 years.”
400 years. And never before had you seen him naked. Not like this. Not splayed out like a feast, waiting to be devoured. Not with his gaze so burning you were afraid it was going to singe your clothes to ashes. 
“Right,” you mumbled, eyes flicking back down to your hands. They were smudged with soot, your thumb and index finger blackened, that lone shadow still curiously snaking around your wrist. 
That is a very long time.
Azriel seemed to notice how the little confidence you had faltered, for he straightened somewhat from his leisurely sprawl. 
“You okay?” There was only soft concern enveloping his words, a drastic change from the tension flooding the space between you just seconds before. 
It was a very long time, indeed. So why didn’t this feel wrong? 
You let out a deep breath, “yes, I think so.” 
Your answer apparently didn’t settle his worries though, because he raised from the sofa and rounded the table between you. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he stopped in front of where you sat. 
Only when he lowered his hand – fingers coming to rest under your chin, tipping you face up – did you meet his eye. 
The heartbreaking concern written all over his face seized your heart. The soft furrow of his brow. The slight dip at the corners of his pouty lips. The brutal softness swimming in those hazel eyes. 
It took your breath away.
“Are you sure?” He questioned, voice barely above a whisper.
You didn’t trust your voice, not with the vulnerable proximity between you. All you managed was a meager nod. A small up and down bob of your head. 
His fingers tugged on your chin, and as if in a trance, you followed the wordless command and rose to your feet. 
“I need you to use your words here, sweetheart,” his voice was soft, but the underlying command was undeniable, “please.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you swallowed and managed to breathe out “I’m okay.” 
That seemed enough to ease Azriel’s concern, a breath of relief fanning across your face. 
“Good,” he murmured, almost as if more to himself.
His eyes left yours, and flicked down. To your mouth, you realised, as his thumb moved from your chin up to graze your bottom lip.
That intensity was back in his gaze, that predatory focus – all directed at you. His thumb pulled at your lip before letting go, and the shudder that overtook your body could have made the earth shake.
There couldn’t be more than a foot of space between you. 
So dangerously close.
He was your friend. 
Right? 
“400 years,” you whispered, eyes flicking down to follow the bob of his throat as he swallowed. “400 years of friendship.” 
You felt light headed. 400 years, and all could be thrown away as easy as breathing. All you had to do was take half a step.
“Three,” Azriel’s voice grumbled above you as your eyes trailed down to inspect the shallow rise and fall of his chest.
“Hmm?” Your mumble was absent minded, your thoughts being too preoccupied by the male in front of you. What he would feel like. Taste like. The sounds he would make if you dipped your head and licked up the drops of sweat beading at the center of his chest.
“That’s how long I’ve loved you. Three hundred years.”
You froze. 
The thickness coating Azriel’s voice was not something you were familiar with. Nor were the words he uttered.
Your gaze snapped up to his, scanning his features for any sign that he was, for some reason, making the cruellest joke in all of Pythian’s history. But all you found was open, unguarded truth. 
Azriel loved you?
Azriel loved you. 
The rapid beating of your heart was a stark contrast to just how very safe you felt. How right it seemed to take that half step forward. To cradle his face in your hand, the other coming to rest on that glorious chest – right over his own heart. And as you felt that wild drumming beneath his ribs echo your own, nothing seemed as easy as rising up on the tips of your toes and slotting your mouth against his. 
The kiss was tentative, like the two of you were just dipping your toes in – testing the waters. You moved your lips against his, gently, savouring the feel of his pillowy lips. The feel of his body so close to yours. How the scent of him seemed to envelop you. You savoured how easily he took all of your senses hostage. 
He was everywhere.
The sound of Azriel’s wings rustling behind him, the rapid beating of his heart in his chest, the taste of liquor on his lips – it intoxicated you in a way you didn’t know was possible. 
You stayed like that, gently exploring each other's lips, savouring each other's closeness, until you had no other choice but to break away for air. 
You pulled away only a few inches, rapid breaths fanning your faces. The pounding of your heart didn’t seize, and neither did his. You could feel every rapid beat under the hand still planted on his warm chest. 
“Your heart is beating very fast,” you whispered, voice shaky from your breathlessness. 
He swallowed, “It is.”
“So is mine,” you revealed. 
“Yes, I can hear it.”
Oh. 
“Will you kiss me again?” Your voice was so low, you wouldn’t have known he heard you if not for the strangled sound he let out. 
Or for how he grabbed you by your waist and captured your lips with his. 
This time the kiss was less gentle. This time he pressed your body against his as he devoured you. It was all tongues, and teeth, and needy gasps.
His teeth pulled on your bottom lip and you thanked the Mother he was holding you so tightly, for your knees almost gave out. A throaty groan escaped you as his hand cupped the back of your neck, angling your head upwards and deepening the kiss further.
Your own hands found his hair – and pulled. The deep rumbling in his chest and the way he moaned your name into the kiss was your undoing.
This kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tentative.
It was claiming.
And so you let him claim you. 
Your clothes were quickly discarded as you laid down on the sofa, Azriel’s body on top of yours. And as you crashed together, entangled limbs and sworn promises, you let those 400 years of friendship, of tension, of longing dictate the start of this new chapter.
A chapter of what would hopefully be 400 years of something more.
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tags: @missus-shadowsinger
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bucketsofmonsters · 4 months
Text
The Morning After
(A Sequel to Ace in the Hole)
A commission from the lovely @spoczkot :)
Cw: miscommunication, insecurity, gambling, oral sex, vaginal sex, tentacles, double penetration, sensory deprivation
male shadow monster x afab reader
Some beautiful art of our lovely shadow monster
Word count: 5k
Most days, you woke up suddenly, to an alarm or a nagging feeling that there was something you needed to do. 
You absolutely hated it. The sudden shift from sleep to the waking world. It always left you feeling anxious and restless. 
The best way to wake up in the morning was the was you were waking up now. Slowly, barely able to tell where your dreams ended and where the light, silky blankets began. You drifted slowly, softly, back into consciousness, and finally, when you were good and ready, you opened your eyes.
All you could see was black. 
You blinked, confused and disoriented, half convinced you’d just forgotten to open your eyes. 
When the darkness persisted, a spike of panic ran through you. 
You wanted to reel backwards but you didn’t know where you were or what was blocking out your vision. 
You felt a warm presence at your side and pulled away from it, sending yourself tumbling off the edge of the unfamiliar bed. 
The bed. You could see it now, sprawled across the floor, tangled up in a blanket you’d ungraciously taken with you in your panicked frenzy.
A low voice grumbled from the bed, you presumed disturbed by the newfound lack of blankets and the sound of someone falling to the floor beside him. 
You managed a sheepish smile as you gathered your bearings, the events of the night before surfacing in your mind. 
You were here, with Nocturne. 
A pitch-black face peeked over the edge of the bed as he rose from sleep more gracefully than you had. 
“You having fun down there?” he asked, his morning voice a little gravelly.
You nodded, pushing his blankets back onto the bed as you clambered to your feet. 
“Didn’t take you for that much of a clutz,” he said, a teasing lilt ever-present in his voice.
You smiled, sliding back under the covers. “I’m not really, I just don’t usually wake up blind. I feel like that’s excusable.”
He was so hard to read, his void of a presence difficult to gather coherent facial expressions from if you didn’t know what you were looking for, but you saw him tense for a moment before turning to the clock at his bedside. 
“Fuck, I’m late.”
He rose from the bed in a hurry, haphazardly grabbing clothes from his closet and throwing them on, you all but forgotten in his bed. 
You took the hint, rising beside him to grab your own things, admittedly in less of a hurry to leave than he seemed to be. 
He paused, shifting to look over his shoulder to look at you as you gathered your things, pulling your clothes on quickly. 
He shook his head. “No, you don’t have to leave. You can stay as long as you want.”
You knew he didn’t mean it, that he didn’t actually want you in his apartment on your own, but you appreciated the sentiment nonetheless, that he was at least being as gracious as he could.
You waved him off, working quickly towards making yourself scarce despite the feeling inside your chest tugging at you, pleading with you to stay. 
But you didn’t want to stay, not really. Not with him gone.  
Upon seeing that you were set on leaving he slowed, his frenzy calming seemingly to ensure he could leave with you. 
It was a considerate gesture yet still it pulled a thread of guilt tight inside you, at inconveniencing him, holding him back from whatever he had to do. 
You left at the same time, him being a perfect gentleman for you all the while, holding the door open for you and giving you a gracious nod as he headed on his way.
You spent most of your day debating whether or not you should show up at the casino that night. Would it look desperate? It probably would but to be honest, it wasn’t that far from the truth. Would he want you there? 
When you got particularly nervous you couldn’t help but imagine him turning you away, deciding he was done with you, or pretending not to know you at all. You weren’t sure which would hurt worse. 
But in the end, you couldn’t keep yourself away. It would take more self-control than you had on hand
You’d never been so nervous walking in before. It felt like everyone was looking at you. When you looked up, you saw Nocturne. His lack of features did nothing to disguise the fact he was staring at you. 
You settled at his table, and he dealt cards while looking straight at you, his face entirely unreadable. 
You had gotten no better at poker, despite his ‘lessons.’  In fact, you’d say you’d gotten much much worse. 
You lost all your chips incredibly fast, not pacing yourself like you normally did, far too frazzled for that. In about an hour, your entire budget meant for your next visit was gone. 
Part of you hoped maybe you’d be familiar enough with him soon that you wouldn’t need to come here every other week anymore. But maybe that was wishful thinking. 
Everything in you wanted to go get more chips so you could return to his table with an easy excuse but you were already running ahead of what you should have spent this week. 
So instead you waited, hoping he’d come up to you when his shift was done. 
And so you sat, with about two hours ahead of you, waiting for midnight to come and for him to get off work. 
You didn’t have much to do in the meantime. Normally you headed out as soon as you lost but part of you thought, or maybe just hoped, that he’d come talk to you. 
Even if nothing came of it, you couldn’t leave without at least talking to him. 
Not after last night. 
You were incredibly bad at looking busy, it seemed, stirring a drink you didn’t want halfheartedly as you waited. 
You tried not to feel too self-conscious. Other people were idling around you, you were far from the only loiterer, but you just felt like you were doing it wrong. 
As long as you didn’t look too out of place, you supposed it didn’t matter. 
And so there you sat, staring at the little whirlpool you’d formed in your drink as you waited, trying not to look up too much. You imagined it would only serve to make you look more nervous and flighty. 
This determination to keep your head down meant that when someone cleared their throat next to you, you almost jumped out of your skin. 
Your head jerked up to find a familiar, dark face.
He leaned back a little, looking almost sheepish. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Just wanted to say I’m sorry about this morning. I thought maybe you could come over again and I could make it up to you?”
“More lessons?” You weren’t sure if you were more excited or nervous about this turn of events. 
What did he want? Just a repeat of last time? Probably. You set yourself on being grateful for it either way. 
“Whatever you’d like.” He reached out to take your hand before clearly thinking better of it, pulling back as you followed him out of the casino and back to a familiar apartment. 
The mood was decidedly different from the night before. 
He shuffled off towards the kitchen immediately, looking back at you standing near the door. 
“Come in,” he said, beckoning you forward. “What would you like?”
“What?”
He gestured back towards the kitchen. “To eat. I’m afraid I was a terribly rude host last night, I didn’t make you anything.”
You shook your head dismissively. “You weren’t rude.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Anyways, what do you want.”
“You really don’t have to-” you tried to insist before he cut you off. 
“And yet I’m going to. You’re not going to decide anything, are you? That’s fine. Do you like pasta?”
You gave him a small nod and he immediately started pulling out pots and boxes and fresh ingredients faster than you could keep track of them.
You wanted to help but you didn’t know where to start. He moved so swiftly and fluidly through the kitchen that it felt like any attempt to assist would hinder him more than anything. 
You hesitantly moved to his side, asking a quiet, “What should I do?”
He gave you an amused glance. “Nothing. I’m making it for you, your job is just to sit back.”
You frowned, a crinkle forming between your brows. “I want to help.”
“You really don’t have to.” His voice was soft and low and you could feel your cheeks heat at the sound of it. 
“But I want to,” you said, giving him what you hoped was a winning smile. “Now what are we making?”
He let out a fond little sigh and then put you to work. It was not lost on you that he was giving you the easiest tasks but you didn’t mind, you were happy with the compromise, so long as you were being helpful. 
What made less sense to you than his insistence that you let him do most of the work was the way he made a point to stay away from you, keeping a careful distance as he moved gracefully about his tasks. Whenever you drew nearer to him he always found a convenient excuse to move to the other end of the kitchen. 
At one point you reached out to grab the handle of a pan at the exact time he did and he pulled back before your hands had a chance to meet, almost like he’d been burned. You couldn’t help but worry you’d done something to upset him and that was why he was keeping his distance. But then why would he invite you here?”
So you tested the waters, intentionally bumping into him a few times, trying to make it as casual as you could.
He seemed nervous about it more than anything, almost leaning away as you got close to him. 
You felt him go completely stiff as you brushed up next to him, your arms barely touching. 
“You should be more careful,” he said, and you pulled away, embarrassment coloring your face. 
But he hadn’t asked you to stop, he’d asked you to be more careful. Surely if he wanted you to stay away, he’d tell you as much. 
So you pressed on, brushing up against him on occasion, desperate to figure out what was clearly making him uncomfortable so you could fix it. 
The problem with touching him, which you wanted nothing more than to do, was it rendered you functionally useless. If you so much as bumped against him you were left grasping blindly for utensils and sticking your hands out in front of you to try desperately not to bump into anything. 
It made you feel like an idiot. When he had to grab your hand to avoid you smacking it right into the hot stove that you would’ve sworn was feet away, you sheepishly stepped back from him, determined to stop making a fool of yourself. 
But as soon as you both strayed far enough away from the stove you were back at his side, brushing against him again. 
Your hand shifted around, feeling for a spoon in the dark, refusing to move away from his side as he just stood there. He wasn’t pulling away for once, you weren’t about to ruin this. 
It wasn’t entirely unselfish. You wanted to touch him, you liked having him close. At least when he wasn’t desperately pulling away from you. 
You heard a low chuckle and then a voice right next to you said, “Open your mouth,” his words moving hot air over your neck. 
You did, patient and trusting, and were rewarded with a mouthful of warm food, delicious on your tongue.
“It’s amazing,” you declared, determined to show him how much you appreciated everything he was doing for you. 
“Good, I’m glad.” You could practically hear the smile in his voice. 
And then he pulled away and color bloomed back into your vision, leaving you feeling more disoriented than when it had been black.
“So what did you get up to today?” you asked, leaning back against the cold marble of the countertops.  
He shrugged. “Nothing much, mainly just working.”
“Oh.” You’d hoped he’d at least pretend to have a reason he’d rushed off this morning. 
You shouldn’t be here. You weren’t really sure why he’d invited you over at all. You’d clearly misread the situation, at least some part of it. He didn’t want to be close to you, had lied to you. All the evidence felt overwhelming. You were being a fool. There was nothing to figure out, you were taking advantage of his hospitality. He didn’t want you here, of course that was why he was pulling away. What other reason would there be?
His head cocked to the side. “What did I say? You look like a kicked puppy.”
“No, it’s fine, I can take a hint. I really didn’t mean to impose, now or this morning.”
He froze. “Oh my god, I forgot. This morning I was… I… No, you caught me, it was an excuse.”
You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. “Right, understood. I should go.”
He reached out to grab you and then stopped, pulling back again. “Don’t go,” he settled for instead, sighing out the words with both of his hands firmly at his sides. 
You shook your head. “I really don’t want to impose.”
“You’re not. It wasn’t an excuse for me.”
“What?”
“It wasn’t… I just wanted to give you an out.”
“An out? You were the one who left, you said I could stay.”
He sighed. “Not from my apartment, from me.”
You flinched back. “I get it, I understand not wanting some stranger to stick around, I promise in the future you can just tell me that. You didn’t have to lie.”
He groaned. “No, it’s not like that. I like you, I really do. You’re sweet. I thought you’d stick around just to be kind, I didn’t want to make you think you had to stay just because we slept together.”
You started to laugh as soon as he got the words out, unable to control the instinct. He stared at you in clear confusion until you managed to force out the words between giggles. “I was thinking the same thing about you. You know, I was trying so hard to be casual, I guess I fooled you a bit too well. Why would you think I wanted to leave anyway? I was clearly crazy about you. I was there constantly fawning over you and you thought I wanted to leave?”
“It’s not that crazy. I saw how scared you were when you woke up. I know I’m not exactly a convenient person to be around. Plenty of people are attracted to me, sure, it’s cool and sexy to be stuck in the dark like that, but it’s not something people want forever. People try blindfolds on for a fun, kinky night, they don’t do it every day. You can’t hold hands with me on walks, would have to avoid touching me if you wanted to do basically anything. I’ve been here before, the novelty wears off fast and I get left behind with it. Figured it was good to give you an out. And sometimes, maybe, it’s a little easier to leave first. Hurts less that way.”
You froze for a moment, unsure what to say. You leaned forward a bit, half intent on hugging him but as you watched him tense up once again, you leaned back into the counter. 
“You know,” you began, choosing your words carefully, “I had the biggest crush on you for ages. It wasn’t just about your quick fingers and card tricks, although I have to admit, they didn’t hurt,” you said with a smile. “I first came there, to see you, because my friend said you were sweet. She said you made sure she felt safe there, that you kept a guy who was bothering her away. But more than that, you made her laugh afterwards, cheered her up. I had no idea how right she was. You always paid attention to me, made me laugh the whole time I lost, and let me hang around after.  At first, I thought it was some sort of tactic, a way to get better tips, and I didn’t mind. But you never really seemed to pay that much attention to anyone else and I thought that it was awfully considerate of you to at the very least make sure I didn’t see when you did, to try and make me feel special, because surely that was all it could be. And even that gave me butterflies. You were so sweet and funny, but it couldn’t be anything more than that. So when you decided to take me home last night I was so excited not because it was some fun fantasy, but because it was you, and because you wanted me. You’re not a blindfold, you’re a person. And I can get gloves for walks or you can help guide me or.. I don’t know, I haven’t had much time to think about it, but I’m sure we could figure something out. If you wanted to, that is, I don’t…”
And then his mouth was on yours and the words you’d been saying faded away entirely.
His hand rose to cradle your cheek, holding you close, as he pulled you with him, slowly and steadily leading you somewhere, your mouths never parting. 
The two of you fell back onto the couch and you didn’t even flinch at the movement. You trusted him, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. 
In the position you’d fallen into, you were on top of him, pinning him to the back of the couch. 
He didn’t seem to mind, two of his tendrils snaking around your hips to pull you even closer, his hips just barely bucking up, begging for friction. 
You gave it to him, grinding down on him as his tongue grazed the seam of your lips and you opened them to allow him inside. 
He deepened the kiss eagerly, thumb stroking your cheek gently, sinking back into the couch to bring you further over him. 
And then you smelled burning. 
You pulled away from the kiss, trying to look towards the kitchen before realizing that you couldn’t. 
He rose to try and meet your lips once more, tendrils trying to pull you back towards him. 
You resisted the urge to give in to him, instead muttering a quiet, “Do you smell that?”
He flew off the couch and was in the kitchen in a second, taking the delicious food that had been basically finished and that you’d barely gotten a taste of off the stove. 
He took a quick peek inside and you could tell in an instant that it was ruined as he dropped it into the sink with a sigh.
His hands rose to cover his face as he looked back at you, sitting disheveled on the couch and you swore if he were human, he’d be a bright red right now. 
“I just wanted to make you dinner, oh my god,” he said, his voice muffled by his palms. “Some date this is.”
You perked up instantly. “This is a date?”
His fingers shifted open so he could look at you. “Maybe. If that’s alright with you.”
A delighted laugh escaped you, unbidden, before you were throwing yourself at him again, lips crashing together as you pulled his hands away from his face. 
He took it in stride, hoisting you up onto the counter, which pulled a surprised little squeak from you.
His fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, tugging them down impatiently. You lifted yourself a little on the counter to allow him to pull them down, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh as he did.
“At last one of us should get to eat,” he muttered, nipping playfully at your thigh as you giggled, hands falling to tangle themselves in his hair. 
It really was a shame, you decided, that you couldn’t admire him like this, between your thighs. 
You whined out a quiet “please,” and he buried his face in your core in an instant, wasting no time and mercifully, making you beg no further. 
He ate you out like a man starved, hands firmly pressed into your hips, holding you close, keeping you unmoving as you tried to buck into his face. 
His tongue was longer than that of any man you’d been with before, snaking inside you before withdrawing so he could suck on your clit dutifully once more. 
He didn’t so much as come up to breathe, lapping relentlessly at you. You were sure most of his face was covered with your wetness at this point and he couldn’t seem to care less. 
You came like that, on his counter, his mouth working you over tirelessly. 
Your back arched, shifting into him even further, practically fucking his face as you came. 
Even as you came down from your orgasm he didn’t stop, tongue pressing deep inside of you as you let out whines of overstimulation. 
You tugged him back by the hair and didn’t need your vision to be able to imagine the smug little self-satisfied look that was plastered across his face, You’d seen it more than enough times. 
You shifted to move off the counter and his hands met your hips, pulling you off and making sure your feet reached the floor safely. 
You smiled at him as he led you back towards the couch and you pressed a quick kiss to his lips. 
“My turn,” you said, leaning down before a tendril wrapped around your chin and pulled you back up. 
“No, stay up here with me.”
You gave him a teasing grin. “Come on. I mean, you were supposed to feed me.
His grip on you remained unrelenting. “Please. I want to kiss you,” he said, his voice softer.
Who were you to deny him that?
Nimble fingers moved down, gentle and careful with you as they pushed inside you, and his lips met yours once more. 
He tasted of you, a little sweet, moans escaping him as you licked into his mouth, desperate to feel more of him.  
His fingers pulled out of you soon after he’d begun touching you and you couldn’t help but whine in displeasure.
Almost instantly his fingers were replaced by something thicker. He held tight to you as he pressed inside, slowly, until your hips met. 
The tendril inside you now, the one that sat right between his legs, refused to stay still, squirming around in your tight heat, pressing against you perfectly, your back arching up at the movements. 
He buried his head in your neck, his hands and tendrils alike keeping you close to him, as close together as two beings could be. 
“God, you feel so good, so good for me. My perfect girl.”
Your hips bucked up, try to get movement, to get more. 
He pressed soft kisses across your face as you hurtled towards a second orgasm, approaching much faster than the first. You were too far gone to kiss him back properly but he didn’t seem to mind. 
Everything was messy and disorienting and you couldn’t be more content in it all, gripping onto him, wanting everything he’d give you as long as he’d stay close like this. 
You were more than happy to let him do the work, to surrender to the sensations
As his hand absentmindedly stroked your lips, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, you took his fingers in your mouth, sucking on them dutifully, wanting as much of him as you could get. 
“If you wanted your mouth filled so badly you can have it, you just have to ask nicely. 
You let out a pleading noise. Talking felt impossibly hard, your thoughts moving slowly but desperately towards things that felt much more important than words, reaching for him again. 
In a moment, that was no longer an issue, a thick tentacle entering your waiting mouth, pressing down gently on your tongue, almost caressing as your mouth hung open. 
You came a second time like that, with one of his tendrils in your mouth as he thrusted in a steady rhythm inside of you. 
It was less slow and soft than the last one, hitting you suddenly and quickly, leaving you with nothing to do but hold onto him. You let out a cry and gripped him hard enough to leave bruises on any human as he fucked you through it.
The tendril currently in your mouth squirmed and you could practically feel him trying to keep it from pushing further inside, 
You moaned around it, unable to do much more than that as he thrusted hard and unforgiving into you, the rocking of his hips moving you in time with him. 
His arms held you as more and more of his tendrils snaked across your body, wanting to touch as much of you as they could, endlessly greedy. 
He grunted out the word “close” and as soon as he did, your mouth was suddenly empty again before impatient lips pressed against yours. You swallowed down his moans as he came inside you. His grip on your hips remained tight and you thought it just might leave marks. You hoped it would, wishing you could leave any on him in return. 
He pulled out of you with a little hiss and moved to walk away before your hand swiftly reached out, pulling him back toward you as quickly as you could. 
“You’re not going anywhere,” you said as you tugged him into a tight embrace. 
He chuckled. “As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I should clean us up.”
You leaned back into the couch with a huff before suddenly and without warning, you were being lifted. 
You sunk into his embrace, more than happy to be carried around. The sound of a tap turning on came from beside you but you ignored it, leaning into Nocturne’s chest. 
And then, unceremoniously, you were dropped onto a familiar, soft bed. 
Your vision returned for barely a moment before it was gone again, a warm cloth being stroked across your skin as he sunk into bed beside you, quietly cleaning both of you off as you snuggled into the covers. 
He tugged at your shirt and only now did you realize it was still on. It had been all but forgotten during sex but now he pulled it off indignantly, like it was a barrier too much. Like he needed to be able to touch you. He pulled it off with a little of your help, throwing it unceremoniously to the floor and burying his head in your neck. 
“No running off tomorrow morning, right?” you asked as your fingers carded through his hair. 
“Of course not,” he said, his breath tickling your skin as he spoke. “I think I owe you breakfast.”
You gave a content little hum, hoping breakfast tomorrow was at least a little more successful than dinner had been. 
Or maybe, upon reflection, you wouldn’t completely mind a repeat of tonight.
But then, you wouldn’t mind a cozy breakfast either. Wouldn’t mind eating across from him, not touching for a while so you could have the time to admire him. Wouldn’t mind eating in the dark so you could lean against him as you ate. 
No, you thought. You wouldn’t mind any of it. 
His tendrils snaked around your arms and waist to hold you close, all but trapping you against him, pulling you into a little cocoon of warmth as one grabbed the blankets and tucked them carefully around you. 
“Is this okay?”
You nodded, pressing a soft kiss into the closest one. 
He let out a quiet groan, the tendril reaching to caress your face. 
Amidst the nest of tendrils you found yourselves cuddling inside of, you felt his hand reach for yours, your fingers entwining with his. 
“Next time,” he muttered, “I’m going to make you the best dinner you’ve ever eaten, mark my words.”
You felt your heart swell, holding him tighter as he spoke. 
Next time.
553 notes · View notes
bluelockmaniac · 5 months
Text
SLEEP WITH, MARRY, KILL
⤷ ⋮ 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 ⋮
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౨ৎ how to play: 1. there will be three characters (multifandom). simply choose one you'd want to sleep with, one you'd want to marry, and one you'd... well, kill. 2. each character will have a comment based on your decision, read it!
ೀ warning: characters may have some harsh or suggestive replies, so proceed with caution !
౨ৎ characters from the following fandoms: BLUE LOCK, genshin impact, honkai star rail, JJK
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1. 彡 who would you sleep with, marry, kill?
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⤑ what he'd say if you chose to sleep with him
𝐃𝐑. 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎: "oh? you want to sleep with me? i'm afraid i'd rather watch paint dry."
𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀: "haha! not surprised. i'll make it worth your while, y/n."
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈: "y/n, i believe it is best to refrain from such... engagements. i must respectfully decline."
⤑ what he'd say if you chose to marry him
𝐃𝐑. 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎: "hm, i can hardly contain my enthusiasm. it seems you've also been infected by the disease named stupidity." (translation: "i'll consider it,")
𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀: "what's the hurry? just kidding, this seems like the beginning of our grand adventure, my love."
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈: "...what? y/n, marriage is a serious commitment... it requires careful consideration— i apologize, i seem to have forgotten this was a game."
⤑ what he'd say if you chose to kill him
𝐃𝐑. 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎: "you know y/n, sometimes it's better to keep your lips sealed and give the impression that you're stupid, rather than to open your mouth and remove all the doubt they might have had?"
𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀: "damn it, y/nnn! so easy to love yet so hard to hate..."
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈: "...i won't hold it against you."
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2. 彡 who would you sleep with, marry, kill?
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⤑ what he'd say if you chose to sleep with him
𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄: "eww... but i suppose i could lower my standards for one night..."
𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄: "oho? fascinating. we can use each other for tonight, just make sure you don't disappoint me, friend."
𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑: "fine, but only because i pity you. it's the closest you'll ever get to perfection, anyway."
⤑ what he'd say if you chose to marry him
𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄: "w-what? me, marry you? pathetic..."
𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄: "love is a gamble, but with you it seems like it's a guaranteed win..."
𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑: "Marry me? That's laughable— and what makes you so special, hm?"
⤑ what he'd say if you chose to kill him
𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄: "i'd like to see you try, you insignificant... human."
𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄: "hmm, y/n, i didn't know you were one to pull risky moves. i'll let fate decide my outcome, let's see if luck is on my side."
𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑: "tch, likewise."
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3. 彡 who would you sleep with, marry, kill?
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⤑ what he'd say if you chose to sleep with him
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎: "hell yeah, i love sleepovers! i'll bring suguru and shoko— wait whaaat?"
𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄: "...my apologies. while i am honoured by your proposal, i must politely decline as it is not my intention to take advantage of your precious body."
𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋: "y'wanna fuck? no need t'ask twice, pretty thing."
⤑ what he'd say if you chose to marry him
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎: "haha, of course. after all, the question is: who wouldn't choose to marry me?"
𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄: "it would be a privilege to marry you, y/n... but perhaps we should start slow and take it one step at a time."
𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋���: "say less, darlin'. i'll give ya the best life y'could ask for."
⤑ what he'd say if you chose to kill him
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎: "haha! not if i kill you first! :)"
𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄: "ah, i apologize. it's raining again in fontaine."
𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋: "mm' pretty, don't know what i did but, y'know what they say? hate sex is the best sex." (a/n: sorry)
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4. 彡 who would you sleep with, marry, kill?
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⤑ what he'd say if you chose to sleep with him
𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘: "oh? guess i've got a different purpose for using my handcuffs now."
𝐒𝐀𝐄: "yuck... whoever is willing to sleep with you is just too lazy to jerk off..." (ouch)
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈: "hmm? how much are ya willing to pay?"
⤑ what he'd say if you chose to marry him
𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘: "...let us sit down and discuss this, perhaps over a cup of tea."
𝐒𝐀𝐄: "ugh... i have no interest in someone as lukewarm as you. i have better things to do than waste my time with you."
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈: "pftt, nah."
⤑ what he'd say if you chose to kill him
𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘: "careful now, y/n. i won't be able to reduce your prison sentence if you were to commit murder."
𝐒𝐀𝐄: "i don't give a shit. this game is such a waste of my time."
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈: "oh, are you flirting with me?"
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5. 彡 who would you sleep with, marry, kill?
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⤑ what he'd say if you chose to sleep with him
𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇: "well i certainly am looking forward to decorating you with love bites... you'll look like a gorgeous piece of art by the time i'm done with you."
𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎: "uhh... like innocently sleeping beside each other or— oh. fuck yes, come here."
𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌: "i'll consider it if it's a one-time thing, but later... this book is quite intriguing."
⤑ what he'd say if you chose to marry him
𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇: "seriously? there is no time to waste then. i'll build us the grandest mansion ever known in sumeru!"
𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎: "you... what? but i guess the idea of having a family with you does sound exciting..."
𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌: "i apologize, but getting married seems like a hassle. i'd rather live a comfortable life on my own."
⤑ what he'd say if you chose to kill him
𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇: "mhmm, such a pretty liar."
𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎: "don't say that. shut up and kiss me."
𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌: "well, what can i say? you're as smart as you look."
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★ 𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑬 𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑹 . . .
★彡 feel free to share the characters you chose in the comments ! ⤷ the artists for the fanarts used are credited in image desc ! ⤷ reblogs, comments, and likes appreciated !
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© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !
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kikyoupdates · 2 months
Text
Fatherhood | Todoroki Shouto x F!Reader
shouto discovers he’s going to be a dad
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Shouto blinks. You’ve just placed an object into the palm of his hand. A second ago, you were snuggling up against him, looking a bit distracted for some reason, and now, he finds himself staring down at something he can’t quite make sense of. 
It’s not that he’s never seen it before. Of course he has. At the store, and in commercials, and in various ads online. He may be a bit naive and ignorant when it comes to some things—okay, a lot of things—but he’s not an idiot. His brain is still able to make the connection. It’s just that he’s in sheer, utter disbelief. 
Two lines? Doesn’t that mean…
“I’m pregnant, Shouto.”
He lifts his head in a hurry to meet your gaze. Your eyes are bright, honest, and your lips are pressed into a small, gentle smile. 
Pregnant? As in, there’s a baby growing inside of you? 
His baby? 
Shouto swallows hard. All of a sudden, his hands are shaking, and he can barely hold the pregnancy test straight. It feels like the entire room is spinning. It feels like he’s forgotten how to breathe. 
This is good news. Of course it is. He loves you with his whole heart, and he already knows you’ll be an amazing mother. You’re kind, attentive, loving, and devoted. You have so much love to give that you were even able to help heal his wounded heart. You’ve stood by his side, no matter what, and not once have you given up on him. 
You’re not the reason he’s scared right now. He has full faith in you. 
He just doesn’t know if he has faith in himself. 
“I-I’m just—I don’t know how I’ll—” Shouto takes a deep, shuddering breath. He leans his head against your shoulder and trembles, ever-so-slightly. “...what if I’m not good enough?” 
It’s no secret that his family life is a mess. For the longest time, he was estranged from his mother, and he resented his father with all his soul. To make matters even worse, his older brother, Touya, is a villain who is currently imprisoned in Tartarus. Shouto doesn’t know what it’s like to have a normal, healthy family. Some of his wounds have mended, it’s true, but they will never fully disappear. He’ll never know what it’s like to have had a happy childhood. 
How is he supposed to make his own child happy, if he never experienced it for himself? 
Shouto can feel the start of what is sure to be a horrible downward spiral, but before he has the chance to sink into doubt and self-loathing, you cup his cheek with your hand and look right into his eyes. 
“It’s exactly because you struggled with your own family that you’ll be a great dad,” you say, smiling so gently he can’t even believe you’re real. “I know it was hard. I’ll never be able to fully understand what you endured. But all the times your father hurt you, or made you feel scared, lonely, helpless… that’s why you’ll know what not to do. That’s why you’ll know what your child would never, ever want. And that’s why you’ll be even more considerate of them. So that they never have to experience what you went through.” 
Shouto’s bottom lip quivers. Tears well up into his eyes, and it doesn’t take long for a few droplets to roll down his cheek. Nevertheless, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans into your touch and squeezes one of your hands for reassurance. 
“Really?” he breathes. “Do you think… I’ll be a good dad?”
You continue to smile, eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that he finds so, so beautiful, and endlessly endearing. 
“Of course you will be. There’s not a doubt in my mind.” 
It’s amazing how quickly you’re able to put his worries to rest. Just by looking at that bright smile of yours and hearing a few, simple words, suddenly, he feels like anything’s possible. 
“I’m… going to be a dad,” Shouto mumbles, somewhat in a daze. His chest tightens up, but it’s not because he’s nervous anymore. All that’s left now is excitement. The excitement of knowing that you’re going to start a family together.
Without warning, he pulls you into his arms and kisses you deeply. You melt into his embrace and kiss him back. He could stay like this for hours upon hours, and he’d never get tired of it. He’ll never get enough of the love, warmth, and fulfillment you bring him. 
As long as he has you, there’s no reason for him to be scared.
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lustlovehart · 6 months
Note
since reqs are still open i have a thought,,,,
scara/wanderer falling in love with reader all over again after he forgets them and everything else after the attempt of becoming god feel free to ignore those
A/n: For the sake of this request, he forgets who he is for months instead of just a day.
Summary: He’s had no name for so long, maybe his salvation is the voice that has remained in his head. Though, it seems that voice has turned to reality.
Warnings: Told from his perspective, Wanderer without his memories, but bonus is when he does get them back, Spoilers for Sumeru, Scara wants to kill Dottore, Jealousy, Kinda corny
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Puppets are meant to have strings, and yet he is forced to lift his limbs on his own. Puppets have puppeteers make them do what they must yet he has to think for himself.
It makes sense, yet why is he left to walk without a purpose.
It feels like he's forgotten something from his past, yet there is no past for him to remember.
"Kuni... Have you... that isn't my... Huh...? You're just embarrassed I... pictures... Didn't hide... Okay... Think it's sweet... from you...!"
It's like his brain only had memories of some broken past he could no longer recall. Yet, he still finds some worth in the broken words that echo in his head.
"Uhm sir...? Can you please hand me that sunsettia? I have the Mora for it."
His trance is quickly dissipated as the voice in front of him is sounded. It feels familiar yet he doesn't have it saved in his brain.
"Huh...? Oh sure."
With no sure background on himself, nor any real idea of how he came to be, he's stuck working many jobs. His finger tips quickly brush against the hand in front of him, it felt like static rushed up to his chest, though he lacked a heart it felt as if there was one there.
"Thank you, I'll be taking my leave, so, have a good day." Familar...
"Sunsettias and Bulle fruit are kinda different huh? In fontaine, there's this certain candy made out of it, have you ever had it Kuni? No? I'll bring you some when I go back! You wanna come too...? Wha?! Don't act like you didn't say that! Hey don't walk away from me!"
Before he could reach out and ask for your name, you had already walked away from him. It didn't feel like the first time it had happened either.
A week later, all he could remember was that single interaction. His fingers still tingling whenever he remembered you.
It's as if he had some third sense for you, the moment you step into the bazaar his eyes quickly looked toward the direction you had cam in from.
"What is your name" his hands cling onto your wrist, even though you weren't planning to leave any time soon, almost like he felt as if he let go you would disappear once more.
"Wha...?" You're still not too caught up in what it is exactly he's asking so your don't answer, only quirking your eyebrow at him.
"Name?"
"Mine? It's [Name]...?" He quietly whispers it under his breath, like a mantra, a prayer. When he says your name again it's like it melts off his tongue.
Like you belong there on his lips.
"Am I in trouble? I promise i didn't steal anything from the stand sir!"
"What? No no, It's not that." He pauses before he speaks, a little hesitant while he thinks of his wording to dish out, how does he ask without coming off as weird? "I think... You're... You seem familiar."
"Hm? Well I do get supplies here often so maybe that's it-"
"Can we have dinner later?"
"Wait wha? Well, I mean we can, but I only know you as the vendor here, so that's kinda sudden is it not...?" He takes what you say into consideration, but only shrugs his shoulders.
"It probably is but, I wanna talk to you more." He couldn't let the opportunity slip between his fake fingers, for such a long time since he had awoken, it's like your voice had been in his head for such a long time.
No, not like... Your voice has been with him.
------
Months had passed by in such a hurry, yet he still had no title to go by. He didn't have anything attached to his person, so he told you the name he remembers feint whispers of.
"Kuni...?"
He can tell in your expression the name is familiar on your tongue, but does not hold any memories in your head. He doesn’t mind though, it's nice to hear you adress him, even if if the name you speak isnt one he remembers.
It doesn't take long before occasionally meets up turned into daily hang outs. There wouldn't be a second where you two weren't attached by the hips.
The two of you sit on the highest branch of the tree located at port ormos, your head rested on his shoulders while the wind calmly brushes by the two of you.
"Kuni." He doesn’t give you an answer but you can feel his eyes bore into you.
"I have to leave next week. Something urgent came up and… My job needs me to leave sumeru for some time, i’m not sure how long though." His expression doesn’t give too much away, but when you lift your head to look at him, the slight squint in his eyes is all you need to know he’s upset by it. “Don’t give me that look, it probably isn’t gonna be for more than a month anyway so i’ll be back soon.” He turns his head away from you, presumably to hide whatever look he has splayed on his face.
“Don’t be like that, besides, it’s my birthday soon. It’ll give you time to prepare for when I get back.” He still doesn’t answer you. A sigh leaves your throat before your hand reaches up to his face, pulling it closer to your lips as a quick peck is placed on his cheek. It’s enough to stun him a bit, watching his brain short circuit in real time while a smile cracks on your mouth.
“What would you want anyway? You’re not too open about your wants.” It’s nice to know he cares. Though you don't give him a straight answer, once again deciding to mess with him.
"Who knows, maybe I want you-" it doesn't take long before a palm pushes your face mid sentence. "Wha?! I was gonna ask for food."
With the way his face is turned, you'll never notice the way his face is warmed. He's sure if he had one, his chest would be beating sporadically.
He hopes the two of you can last.
------
Bonus:
It had been awhile since he had last seen you, 2 weeks maybe? At the time, when you had told him on your little date, he didn’t think much of it, he had only the memories of the clothes on his back to stick to, so he really believed it was for a simple job.
But with his memories back, he knows what your "job" truly is. Formerly, you were his assistant back in his harbinger days, but now that he is no longer the ballader, he can only seethe in silence at the thought of you being a differnt harbingers aid.
He might even go insane if he finds out you're to be working under The Doctor.
God Forbid, he finds out that man has been messing with you, he'll gladly become a god once more if that means he can protect you, or better yet, destroy him.
Instead of his hiding spot being a place to relax, he's now left with the thought of Dottore in his mind, it makes his hands curls into balls, grassblades ripping apart at how tight he's clutching his fists, he's sure if he was human there would no doubt be blood pouring out-
A sudden weight had jumped on him from behind, arms quickly tightening around him, a familar head coming into view.
"I finally found you." His eyes are right in front of your own, like your eyes are locked onto his and he can't look away from you. "I was worried, about you, ever since I had come back yesterday, you weren't at the usual spot."
Of course he wouldn't be. He had finally remembered his past sins, he no longer felt worthy enough to lay by your side.
But he still had some sense to at least protect you from the shadows.
"I just felt like changing the scenery is all."
"Hm? You've never wanted to do that before. Did something happen?"
His fingers... His fake fingers, tightly grip onto your very real arm.
"Maybe I've grown a hatred for doctors, is that not reasonable?"
"Huh...?? It's certainly random to change a spot for that reason that's for sure."
"If a certain doctor had any copies of himself, I would've loved to rip him to pieces."
"Okay future serial killer..."
He doesn't answer, maybe... Maybe it's best you don't remember his past atrocities with him.
"Perhaps you're one too [Name], who knows, maybe you're just as bad as me."
Your head leans forward, resting your chin on his shoulder while he talks.
"If that's the case, we really are meant to be huh?"
He let's a laugh escape his throat, not the usual one he lets out, filled with joy, it's filled with something more sinister, menacing? Yet it's still filled with some love for you.
"Yeah, that might be why we're together again."
"Again? Did you date a doppelganger?"
"Just sit down."
" Oh wow, that's some new attitude."
---
Wanderer before he got his memories back would probably be really awkward so I tried to incorpate that. (I wrote this really sporadically, so there's probably a lot of mistakes and really rushed I'm so sorry 😔)
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gremlingottoosilly · 8 months
Note
What if (in the monster AU) we are so absolutely terrified of being yelled at that we just do whatever he says but it's extremely clear that were not doing it because we want to but we're doing it so he won't be mad/ kill us (even tho he won't) and we HATE being yelled at?
Like when he takes us we just except it and he thinks it's going great but when he tries to make an emotional connection we just flinch but we don't move bc were so scared he whould be mad? (Ps I absolutely love you and your work!!)
Konig would be ecstatic at first, believing that he just scored a perfect human who knows her place and doesn't need to be broken in...the first few months are definitely hard for you and fucking beautiful for him - he doesn't have to yell or beat you up for you to spread your legs or provide him with the comforts of your soft, human body, you are obedient and sweet, greeting him with that shaky voice of yours...and then he started developing feelings. Uh-oh. He wants for you to initiate affection - and you do, but it's so bloody obvious that you're only doing this because you want for this to be over as soon as possible, he doesn't even want to force you anymore. Poor guy, he just wanted his wife to actually like him, and yet, the only thing you're doing is trembling in fear( he starts to slowly get you to actually voice your opinion in small things - if you want to choose something like a snack or a piece of clothing, he would take your opinion into consideration and would, very grumpily, deliver it to you later. Maybe when you're already forgotten about everything - but he still wants for you to like him, as much as it could be impossible. He sometimes yells in front of recruits, and it's making you extremely nervous - he wouldn't really calm himself down because his dumb soldiers need discipline, but he would put you in another room so you won't get scared over anything. Could hold you in his hands during it, allowing his dumb, pretty pet to cover her ears and hide her face in his chest. Humans are pathetic, after all - everyone can see it. His bonding activities would be dragging some dumb deepshit recruit over to you and make you decide his fate - you are running out of ideas of how to NOT allow Konig to just kill them, and making them simply clean up the base doesn't sound like a proper punishment anymore( but at least he is listening to you, somewhat...
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cosmic-waves7 · 1 year
Note
hello! can you do mori from (ohshc) with a small s/o ty!
Note: omg this is my first time writing for him, I wanna rewatch ohshc so badddd but my stupid brain refuses to watch anything twice ever .
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You. Are just so. Tiny.
You're the perfect height for him, the cuteness is too much.
Obviously you wouldn't get all that from looking at his face, you'd have more luck understanding hieroglyphics than you'd have from picking apart Mori's emotions by facial expressions alone.
But god he can barely contain himself from how precious you look.
He needs to carry you everywhere.
And when I say everywhere. I mean it.
You've nearly forgotten what it feels like to walk the school halls honestly.
Mori is a very naturally stoic personality, it's the first thing you learn when you meet him but he is so overwhelmingly protective when it comes to you.
It comes with the little things of course, constantly needing to have you either on his back or be touching you in some way.
Quietly asking if you're okay or if you need anything an ungodly amount of times per day.
naturally due to your body proportions, your hands are considerably smaller than his so his fingers just completely swallow yours up when your out strolling on school grounds or the city. Only the tips of your fingers peeking through his large hands.
Comparing hand sizes just reaffirms his need to shelter you from the world.
Omg cup his face at least once pls, he'll die.
If you don't stop him he'll feed you himself during lunch time.
He doesn't view you as childish or incapable it's just that he's so used to taking care of Honey-Senpai in this way.
And you don't really have the heart to stop him.
Speaking of honey senpai, you both are currently competing in the Mori-climbing Olympics.
First one to manage to sit on his shoulders while he walks with you both wins.
He'll snatch you up from the twins the moment they start teasing you and leaning on you to emphasize your height.
"But Moriiiii-senpai, that's not fair!"
"Yeah, Hikaru's right, give her back!"
More whining ensues.
He'll just turn away scoffing and grumbling while placing a soothing hand down your back even if you were giggling at their antics.
He might just get a scoliosis diagnosis from how often he's having to lean down to give you his full attention, he hangs onto your every word.
Wouldn't want you to think he doesn't care now, would we ?
break his back babe, he couldn't care less.
He'll swoon if you pull him down by his school uniform tie. <3
The amount of times you've been picked up by the scruff of your neck is concerning.
But to balance it all out, he's kissing your knuckles and smoothing out your hair lovingly :3
At this point you're convinced overpowering you through height is his kink or Smth but Ur not really complaining.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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ovaryacted · 7 months
Note
Ok giving Leon a head while we're on our period? That's hot af girl <3
MDNI/18+. NSFW
I don’t know why the phrase “that’s hot af girl” made me laugh when I first saw this but yeah, I think it’s just a thought I had that would be a possibility. Overall, I don’t think Leon is the type of guy to ask for sex either (unless he’s very pathetic and needy and just can’t help himself). But when it comes to you on your cycle, he’s especially considerate and does things on your terms, as he always does.
He’s a sweetheart and a gentleman through and through, and if you ask for him to be a little handsy or rougher with you in the bedroom he’s willing to accommodate. When your cycle hits, he’s gentle, careful not to squeeze or touch you too much unless you ask. Focusing on tending to your needs, he feeds you, comforts you, and is intent on keeping you occupied as a distraction from your cramps. He likes cradling your head as you rest on his lap on the couch, watching some reality TV show you’re both binging.
It’s relaxing and calm, but his touches also make your body tingle. Your period made you hypersensitive to things like certain scents and materials, hence why you mostly wear baggy cotton clothes when you’re on your cycle. Leon touching you also falls under that umbrella, and you quickly go from wanting comfort to craving something else.
Rubbing yourself against his lap, you hum as he massages a certain spot at the top of your head, his thick thumbs pressing into your cranium so deliciously it is enough to make you want more. Unintentionally, your mouth started to water at the thought of having him in your mouth, mind growing distant and no longer paying attention to the show on the screen. Discretely, you press your cheek closer to his pelvis, your nose almost against his crotch.
“Want something?”, he’s coy when he asks you, as if he doesn’t already know what you were thinking. This was just his way of checking in on you, making sure you were alright. Your eyes looked up to him, his hand caressing your cheek and keeping you right where you were.
“Really want to suck your dick”, the vulgarity of your words makes him genuinely laugh, deep from within his chest. It takes him off guard sometimes, but it also turns him on just enough to entertain you, his cock already twitching in his sweats.
“Go ahead, baby. Take what you need”, in his mind, he’s doing it more for your pleasure than his own, wanting to cater to your desires and curb your oral fixation. Anything you want, he’ll gladly provide, and more.
That’s how Leon found himself in this position, keeping your hair out of your face as you sucked him off. It’s like you’re giving him something new to watch, your spit dribbling out of your mouth and making a mess underneath you. Your jaw was growing sore from how hard you were working over him, slippery hands twisting his length as your tongue circled the very tip of him. The show was quickly forgotten, his entire focus now on how your mouth felt, moaning under his breath with every tug you gave him.
“Yeah, this is what you needed, right sweetheart? Just something to keep your mouth busy?”, his voice dropped an octave, no longer holding the mellow baritone you were used to but more gravelly than before.
You offered him a hum, pulling your lips off of him before going to lick at his balls, something that made him groan even louder. Hell if you asked for it, he’d happily fuck your throat, he was very close to doing it but not without your say. Instead, he lets you use him to your heart’s content, quickly turning into a mess of drool as you work faster over him.
His hips shift upward in a gentle motion, bringing your attention back to the tip of his cock. Moving away from his balls, you slip him back into your waiting mouth, nuzzling your nose into his pelvis until you were deep-throating him, audibly gagging from the force of it and Leon’s ears perked up at the sound.
You didn’t plan on stopping until he spilled his cum deep down your throat, or stains your pretty face with his spend. Leon wants to see that wide-crazed smile you give him after you finish him off, your eyes all glazed over and satisfied with your work. He knows you’d rather have him fuck you properly, slipping him inside your tight wet body and keeping him snug there until you wanted him to leave. But for now, this was enough for you, and if you wanted more, Leon would be quick to oblige. He doesn’t mind getting a little messy anyway, it’s what makes things fun.
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Today on popping the corn and feeding the children, what do you folks think of this discussion? :)
I'm always curious to hear what other Trek fans, especially queer Trek fans, think about our place in Trek history and how we fare as the queer participants within our fandom. What have your experiences been like?
Overwhelmingly I've found a great reception and a welcoming attitude, but I admit that has increased considerably since the 90s. However, there are still some Trek fans who seem to be vehemently in denial about queer history in Star Trek, or the fact that anyone who has worked on Trek has pro-LGBT attitudes. This always surprises me considering some of the blatant queer content we have already seen in Star Trek such as the Jadzia Dax and Lenara Kahn kiss.
Anyway, I enjoyed the discussion that followed and seeing the overwhelming outpouring of support coming from Star Trek fans in response to this thread.
Here was my two cents contribution:
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"No, what they said was factual.
Have you forgotten Nichelle Nichols was indeed an African American woman in the core seven bridge crew back in 1966?
Or the fact that Gene Roddenberry went out of his way to write The Motion Picture Novel, creating the term "T'hy'la: friend, brother, lover" so that fans could choose which interpretations of Kirk and Spock they saw fit? He also embraced K/S fans and hired a number of them to write the earliest Star Trek novels, including the very first official one (The New Voyages Vol. 1 & 2) which included slash fiction as well as Gene's approval/forward in the books.
In case anyone has forgotten, here's a little bit of background on Gene Roddenberry and his perspectives on queerness in Star Trek.
He admitted that in his early life he was very affected by how society and culture treated the LGBT community, and that he too found himself subjugating and judging others for that lifestyle because it was what people did at that time. As he got older and had more life experience, he began working with a number of queer artists in Hollywood -- and through TOS, a number of queer individuals began asking questions about Kirk and Spock.
Instead of vehemently shutting down this perspective, Roddenberry was intrigued, and saw potential to tap into a large audience (LGBT) that most others didn't want to go near or acknowledge publicity-wise. He saw it as an opportunity to expand the fanbase while also pushing yet another envelope.
But with the heat already on the show for what they'd already pushed, he found he was often stuck between what he'd like to do and what production would let him get away with. There are a number of Kirk and Spock scenes in scripts that got cut out for leaning a little too obviously romantic. Tiny trickles of that content still made it in were infamous moments like the backrub scene in Shore Leave. Even the 2009 movie had a K/S moment while Spock Prime and Kelvin Spock talked that was written and filmed that was cut out of the final product.
Queer subtext and coding has always been relentlessly weeded away at with an excuse ready to go for why they always try to cut us out, but we all know it's because they are scared of the homophobic backlash and ratings hits. Look how violently homophobes went after the gay romance episode of The Last of Us **just this year**. This has always been our reality, so for someone like Roddenberry to make efforts in the 70s? That was massive.
But Gene as well as the queer/slash Trek community managed to accomplish some things in the 70s which I'm surprised more folks don't talk about or give much credit.
In the same TMP novel which features "T'hy'la" and the famous footnote, Gene cleverly wrote Kirk with a bisexual/pansexual lens: Kirk describes himself as *preferring* women but being open to "physical love in **any** of its many Earthly, alien, and mixed forms." (Direct quote from Genes book). Basically, Captain Kirk was DTF with whoever if there was a connection, which was a very progressive take for a character in a novel written in 1979, but made sense for the future which would have a lot less hang ups about sex and love compared to our current rather puritan/conservative society.
I also prefer women, but I married a man. Shout out to Gene Roddenberry for giving us a seat at the table back in the 70's when folks *still* try to insist there is no place for K/S or queer concepts in Trek, because he made efforts -- however small -- to employ queer people and show queer perspectives. According to David Gerrold, LGBT+ representation was a big thing that Gene personally pushed for in TNG and wanted various depictions of love/couples in the Risa scenes, to name one example.
In the 70s, fanzines led to meetings and swapped fanmade magazines, which got so big that they needed hotel centers, then convention centers, then one day the TOS cast came to one and what we know as modern fan conventions were born -- inspiring even George Lucas who attended Trek conventions in the 70s and saw how popular Trek was in syndication; it was a great climate to launch his Space Opera. Star Wars then became so huge that we got TMP.
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But none of that would have happened without the level of organization, passion, and creativity that those fans poured into Star Trek and their characters after it got cancelled and went into syndication.
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Without queer folks we wouldn't have George Takei, Theodore Sturgeon who gave us Tribbles, Bill Theiss and his amazing TOS costumes, Mike Minor's art direction, Merritt Butrick, David Gerrold (writer for TOS, TAS, TNG) to name a few of many queer contributors to Trek that Roddenberry respected and tried to go to bat for wherever he could in a climate that was absolutely impossible to gain an inch in.
At a time during the 70s and 80s when so many people resented and feared the queer community and wanted us to disappear, especially in the 80s during the AIDS epidemic which many homophobes claimed was "God's punishment to the gay community" or "Gods's answer" to our "hedonism", thinking we'd gotten our just desserts and should just disappear . . .
During that time, Gene Roddenberry gave us queer folks a place to say: "You know what? Sure. Write your stories. TV says you guys shouldn't exist, they pull books with queer people off the shelves and burn them. Laws exist specifically to forbid you guys from loving each other, and call you mentally ill. You can't even hold hands in public. But I'm going to validate you guys and invite you to write novels or work for me, try to see what we can get by production, and allow you to see yourselves in my characters if you want to. There's a place for you in our fandom."
He gave us bi/pan Kirk, he gave us K/S is open to interpretation. In Phase 2 Kirk's surviving nephew Peter, son of his brother Sam from Operation: Annihilate!, was going to be written as gay and living on the Enterprise with his partner -- that also got chopped and reworked into a script that wouldn't get used until decades later. That was huge at a time that being queer was officially listed as a mental illness, and villainized due to the AIDS crisis.
So before you try to dismiss or tell K/S + queer Trek fans whether or not they deserve a seat at the table, remember that Gene Roddenberry was among the **first** to pull that seat out for us in a climate that was ruthlessly against LGBT+ folks." -- 1Shirt2ShirtRedShirtDeadShirt
P.S: Have some cute bisexual/pansexual K/S pride gifs. :) Pride month is a hop, skip and a jump away.
LLAP!🖖💚
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kimchitsu17 · 1 month
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trust me | a.arlert
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nsfw,mdni (just don't)
tags: wet dreaming,fingering (f.recieving),UNI AU!!,angsty confessions with fluff? eventual smut (idk how to do this 🤷🏽‍♀️)
word count : 2.3k
summary : your boyfriend's avoidance of sex forces you to take matters into your own hands.but what happens when he catches you in the act?
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Your body turns into mush the deeper he thrusts into your sloppy cunt. Armin maintains a steady pace as he fucks up into you.he dotingly pecks all over your face and your heart keens over the endearment.his hands interlink with yours on either side of your head, towering over your body.baby blue eyes skim over your naked frame.he nuzzles your nose with his."you're so beautiful",he says.you can feel his love for you.can hear it in the breathy moans that traverse into your ear.his slick and your wetness make the most erotic sounds and you can feel your bundle of nerves about to snap,just a little more...
Then you wake up.drenched in sweat and hornier than you've ever been.its not the first time you've dreamt about him that way and probably wont be the last.you just wish you could do something about it.
Throughout the relationship ,its all been going according to your pace.First time holding hands,first hug,first kiss, its all been you initiating it.and you know its not him being nonchalant.he just wants to make sure he has your consent before he does it himself.
So imagine your surprise when he puts a pause on you when you let him know you want to jump his bones.most guys would have already jumped at the opportunity to get between your legs but then again,Armin isn't "most guys".H e told you he'd let you know when he's ready for that and like the good girlfriend you are,you respected his wishes.But this wish respecting has gone too long for your liking.You've been together for a little over a year now and yet nothing has happened.
You want to feel the intimacy of his skin against yours,to share the vulnerability that comeswith laying bare for the other to see every part of your being.Youre not blind to the heated gaze that travels up and down your body whenever you're in a particularly revealing outfit,or how his eyes dilate and his breathing goes heavier the longer you make out with him.he likes being affectionate with you so what's he waiting for?
You want to tell him you're tired of waiting but you dont want to come off as pressuring him.Plus if the roles were reversed you know for a fact he'd wait for you.You honestly respect his boundaries but its feeding into your own insecurities.Are you not pretty enough,is that it?
What's he so afraid of? Does he not trust you yet? Even after a year?
The furthest you've ever gone with him was this one movie night at your place.your mouths were pressed together in a searing kiss as you led him from the living room to your bedroom.one hand tugging at the back of his undercut and the other guiding his hand to your ass,trying to let him know its okay to let loose.You were so sure this was his way of letting you know he was ready since he's the one who kissed you first.But before it could escalate any further,he stops you in your tracks by your waist and separates his lips from yours.he lets out a few coughs and then you hear it ,"uhhh,we should probably go back to the movie,its about to end."not to mention he left early that night claiming to have forgotten about an assignment due tommorow.saying you were mortified that night would be an understatement.it also,in a way felt like a rejection.
Now here you are,groggily rising from your bed to the bathroom.you feel a little guilty for dreaming of him the way you did as you brush your teeth.hes just so sweet and considerate with you.you also feel a little guilty for what you're about to do but it cant be helped.
You cant stop rubbing your thighs together.the images from your dream are scorched in your mind.the burning sensation in your core is barely tolerable and you need some relief now.
The toothbrush long forgotten,you slip a hand into your sleep shorts.your slick has soaked through your petty excuse for underwear.the pads of your fingers flitter leisurely against your folds as you ease yourself into a fantasy,trying to imagine its Armin's hand stroking your nipple through your camisole.his fingers teasing you, hand stuffed in your underwear.gosh,his hands are so pretty you sigh at the thought.you feel your legs crumple to the floor.
You indulge in reminiscence of the time he fixed your kitchen table.the way his biceps flexed over the the wood as he dismantled the legs.he thin sheen of sweat that glazed over his muscles,over his face, the laboured breathes he let out caused by hours of focus.never had he looked so fuckable.how you wish he could dismantle you like he did to that table.His name leaves your lips with a whimper as your fingers sink into your cunt.
And thats when you hear it.The clutter of a soft drink can against he floor.Your eyes fly open to see none other than Armin standing in front of the bathroom door,lloking like a deer caught in headlights.His cheeks and ears are blotched crimson,mouth slightly agape.His wide eyes are glued to you from the hand stuffed in your shorts and trail up your scanty camisole to your face. your eyes stay glued to one another for what feels like an eternity.
you're the first to break the trance as you stand at full height and dash to shut the door in his face.what the heck is he doing here?! weren'tyou supposed to meet up on campus?but then again you haven't checked your phone for any notifications and he always texts before he comes in.you probably didn't hear it with how...occupied you were .
you do what you can to fix the state of undress you're in but its not helping much. can hear the thump of his head against the bathroom door as he lets out a breath.my gosh,this is so embarrasing.
"love?"
your thoughts cease.you feel the warmth in his voice.can also hear the unease.he wants to know if you're okay.gosh why is he still being so sweet after what he just saw.if it was any other guy they would've bolted out of your apartment by now.
he's now turning the doorknob,"love can i come in I-"
"No!"You clutch the door knob tighter.
What the fuck does he mean come in!?!? you're nowhere near ready to face him.
he keeps tugging at the doorknob and you equally wrench it back closed.
"Armin,I'm fine.an we just meet up after class?
"no we cant,not after what i just saw,now open up"
"he's not asking anymore,he's gonna open that door whether you like it or not.you try your best to overpower him but you're no match for his well-built physique.
he wrenches the door open to find you looking vacantly at him.he looks so perplexed, eyebrows slightly furrowed and slightly out of breath.he must be so disgusted by you.getting off on fantasies of him.you can't bear to face him.how could you ever explain yourself.tears threaten to spill at your lash line and you sag to the floor as you cover your face with your hands.out of shame?out of fear? you don't know.you just want the earth to swallow you whole right here and now.
Armin lets out a dejected sigh and his shoulders slump.its not out of disappointment or disgust like you think.more out of hurt.it hurts him to see you cry. Especially knowing he's the one who made you cry. He should have talked to you sooner it seems,but he decides now is better than never.
he takes up the same position as you on the floor in front of you and tries to pry your hands away from your face but you don't let him.
"Go away Armin", you sob with a hitch.The rejection stings a little but he doesn't let up.
"Hey, it's oka-"
"No it's not okay,it's embarrassing".
Armin let's out a sigh, trying to figure out how to calm you down.Honesty always works right?
"I don't think my girlfriend being half naked on the bathroom floor trying to get herself off is the most normal of things to see first thing in the morning" he lightly tugs at your wrists.seeing that youre not letting up,he decides to just hold them as he strokes at your pulse."but I also don't think it's anything to be embarrassed about either." The words float around you both.puzzling ,shocking.
your cry has now diminished to light sniffles.
does he really mean that? if so why has he never brought up sex in your conversations. you've been going out for over a year for fucks sake,how chaste can this boy be. before you can retort back,you feel him press his lips to the back of your hands.just like in your dream.once.twice.all over them, the exposed part of your forehead,your hair, anywhere he can kiss.
he stays at the shell of your ear,kissing, whispering,”honey please don't shut me out, it's just me."
you can feel your heart melt at his actions.why does he always know exactly what to do to make you cave.
you slowly move your hands away from your face to find light blue eyes studying you,all his focus is on you.he's so close your noses are almost touching.
"hi love"
"I'm sorry",you blurt the words out before you can think.
The air around you remains stagnant,along with Armin ,expressionless and unmoving,as if you never even said anything.Is he mad? disappointed?you have no idea.
You don't get the chance to find out before he swoops you up from the ground.one hand on your side,the other at the back of your knees.You let out a squeal and cling to his neck at the sudden elevation.
he moves in silence to the bedroom,
kicking the soft drink can on his way. Armin never gets like this.its scary.that you've been together for this long and yet have never seen this side of him.it makes you wonder what else don't you know about him.
he settles at the edge of the bed right in the middle and seats you on his lap, guiding your legs on either side of his waist.
his eyes never leave yours as he entwines his fingers in yours.
"since when?"
"what"
"when did you start getting off to me?"
you avert your gaze from his.
"since Connie's welcome back party"
you turn back when you feel him bury his head into your chest.he lets out a groan."that was months ago".
you let him gather his thoughts.his breath fanning over your breasts making your nipples pebble,his eyelashes brushing to and fro against your supple skin.its turning you on,but you force yourself to focus on the issue at hand.
"I didn't mean to do it,im sorr-"
"stop apologising,it's making me feel even more bad"
A beat passes between the two of you.the silence doesn't offer any comfort for your busy brain.hes sorry?
he finally lifts his head from your chest to look directly at you.
"First of all,I need you to know that you can come to me,for absolutely anything.Whether you're horny or depressed or just want to talk im here for you." he looks deep into your eyes,pleading. "you jerking off doesn't disgust me,so dont hide from me again.please."
You understand what he saying but you can't help but feel his hypocrisy.Hes the reason why you hid it from him in the first place.How can he expect you to be open with him when he hasn't been open with you for months.
And it's as if he can read your thoughts.Its his turn to look away from you.eyes cast down,voice gloomy.
"And I'm sorry you felt the need to hide it.Its just," he lets out a breath, "I-"
You untangle your hands from his to reach out for his face.your palms cradle his cheeks as you guide him to look at you.
"why don't you want to have sex with me Armin? Do you not want me?”
“I do!”He says it with more force than is required.How could you, for even a second, think he doesn’t want you.If only you knew how much he’s jerked off to the pictures of you on his phone.
he doesn't know how he's lived normally all these years without you.how he's gone through life without having your warm body tangled in his when you sleepover, without your mindless conversations that never add up to anything, without your smiles.your kisses.he can't fathom a life where you're not there.if you guys haven't slept together and it doesn't work out,he can still fight for a friendship at least.after sex, there's no going back.he knows you'd never be friends with someone you've slept with and hes just too afraid he'll loose you.he wouldn't survive it.he'd rather suppress his own desires and torture himself.he just didn't realise he was torturing you too.
he wants that intimacy between you just as much as you do.hes just so scared of what might happen after.after he's laid his soul bare for you to see.after he's given you every morsel of his being.you haven't given him any reason to doubt your loyalty but what if you decide you could do better than him? God,you could do so much better than him.what if you leave?
he doesn't realise he's said the last part out loud.you jerk his face up even higher.his statement troubles you."Why would I ever leave?" he tries to avert his gaze from your concern once more and this time,you force him to look at you.you feel the melancholy take over his body,he grips you tighter to him by your waist, bodies now flush together.the calm blue of his eyes turns into a kaleidoscope of sapphire,glassy and miserable in their beauty.and then he whispers the fear he's had since the start of your relationship,"because you're too good for me"
the words break your heart.how can such a sweet boy think so poorly of himself.he does so much for you and he doesn't even realise it.with a breath you fix your forehead to his.you both close your eyes at your proximity.
"Armin, this won't work unless you trust me."
"I trust you with my heart",he confesses,nuzzling further against you.
"Then give in to it.Give in to us"
your hands shift to stroke at the apple  of his cheek.the other guiding his hand to your chest.right where your heart is.your next words brush upon his lips in a burning whisper.youre demanding, pleading. begging.
"Give in to me"
a/n: thanks to anyone who made it this far.i plan on making a part two depending on if i can find inspo for it. constructive criticism is appreciated. 👍🏾
borders by @cafekitsune
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Halsin and Silvanus
In the course of my recent research on Bane for a lore request fill, I found myself coming across a lot of very interesting information, previously unknown to me, about the other gods of the Forgotten Realms — in particular Silvanus. There was enough there that it inspired me to direct some extra research hours into this writeup, exploring all the reasons why Halsin is a quintessential Silvanite.
If you would like any more information on anything included here, please feel free to drop a comment or an ask, as there is truly so much that I just don’t have the space to include. (I usually end up with about 12-13 pages of source quotes before I begin one of these meta posts.)
My usual note that, as ever, these writeups will align with current 5e lore, and draw from 3.5e for additional supporting information. On rarer occasions – and always noted – I will reference 1e and 2e, but with the caveats that there is much more in those editions that is tonally dissonant with the modern conception of the Forgotten Realms, and thus generally less applicable.
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Silvanus is easily one of the most misunderstood gods of the Faerûnian pantheon. This is even pointed out directly within his section of the 3.5e Faiths & Pantheons (an incredible resource if you are looking for more detailed information on the gods of the Forgotten Realms!): 
Nevertheless, most outsiders view the church of Chauntea, as patrons of agriculture, as being favorably inclined toward the expansion of civilization, while the church of Silvanus is the implacable foe of those who would settle new lands. Neither impression is correct, yet the church of the Oak Father is often perceived as little different from those faiths that venerate the Deities of Fury.¹ [emphasis added]
Silvanus is most often perceived as strictly and impassively neutral, and intrinsically opposed to civilization in all its forms. While the former is something close to true – he is a very neutral-aligned deity, albeit not necessarily in a way that matches the popular conception of the term – the latter is certainly not. Humanity (if you’ll forgive the use of the term to designate in broad strokes the non-animal denizens of the Material Plane) is another facet of nature, one given equal consideration to the rest – plant, animal, and other – by Silvanus.²
While as a whole followers of Silvanus have a preference for the wilds and the deep forests, this is by no means a concrete rule. In fact, Silvanite clergy – those known as druids – are not uncommonly found in enclaves in larger cities of the Sword Coast and beyond, including Waterdeep.² Typically these druids will “create gardenlike walled areas of wild forest within the city limits.”¹ Wherever they may find themselves, Silvanite druids work to maintain the Balance of nature around them, through education and direct action both. 
Silvanus’s dogma has much to tell us about his philosophy, and that of his followers. I’ll be splitting notable excerpts and their relation to Halsin into sections below. 
Hold your distance and take in the total situation, rather than latching on to the popular idea of what is best.¹ 
Halsin was, from the first moment I met him in-game, so notable for his calm self-possession, and the clear forethought he gave to his actions and those of others. He does not feel bound by the expectations or approval of others – as noted in the dialogue he shares with the player if they compliment his choice of successor – but instead makes his own path following the direction of Silvanus’s wisdom and will. 
Resort to violence and open confrontation only when pressured by time or hostile action.¹
This is showcased numerous times throughout the game, but perhaps best evidenced by an in-game note, from an unlikely source: the Priestess Gut. The note that you can find from her, regarding Halsin’s capture, notes the following: 
Said he thinks there's somethin' rotten inside us. Inside me. Reckons he can help get rid of the rot. I told him we don't need any help from nobody. Never did. And especially not now the Absolute's taken a shine to us.³
Despite the immediacy of his capture at their hands, and the preceding attack already lodged against himself and Nettie⁴, Halsin’s primary impulse is to attempt diplomacy, and render aid. This only changes when his length of captivity has made it clear that there will be no changing the minds of the cultists, and they must be dissuaded by stronger means.
Banish disease wherever you find it¹
The way Halsin is first introduced to the player is as a healer – and not just any healer, but a masterful one, known throughout the region, who has the best chance of being able to assist with any manner of strange ailment. It is clear in all ways, as well as in the scenario referenced in the preceding section, that this is an aspect of Silvanus that Halsin strives to embody at all times. 
Seek out, serve, and befriend the dryads and learn their names.¹
Particularly if we understand the reference to dryads here to extend to all fey spirits of nature, this gives new depth to Halsin’s friendship and devotion to the nature spirit Thaniel. Halsin, as a druid generally, and as an Archdruid in particular, would have a solemn and divinely-ordained responsibility to redress the upheaval of the Balance within the Shadowcursed lands. For that reason alone, it is no surprise that it was his primary motivation and consideration for nigh on a century. 
However, even above and beyond that, Halsin had an additional motivator. Even before he became a druid, potentially before he was exposed to the teachings of Silvanus in anything but the most vague and general of terms, he was living them out by befriending the local nature spirit, learning his name, and seeking to understand, serve, and protect him. 
Make others see the balance and work against those that would disturb it. Watch, anticipate, and quietly manipulate.¹
The primary source text I am using to draw this connection was written neither by nor about Halsin, yet I believe it still clearly reflects on him, for reasons that will become clear. This text is from a logbook recording activities of the Emerald Grove during the year 1371, 121 years prior to the start of the game’s storyline, and some years before the defining events in the soon-to-be Shadowcursed Lands. 
6 Uktar: Sent two druids, some of the newer recruits, up north. Village there has had two years of failed crops and are unlikely to survive the next winter. 9 Uktar: A group from Baldur's Gate arrived. They've set up camp on the edge of the forest. Two bears and a fox came by. Their territory has been burned out. Half the fox's cubs died. Paying this new group a visit tomorrow. 10 Uktar: Visit did not go well. After telling me where to shove it, they said they'd cut down half the forest and burn out any wildlife that dared to stick around. Claimed they were going to 'farm the land and make a new city of their own.' Time to get creative. 12 Uktar: Mudslide did the trick. Buried half their farming equipment and made the rest useless. They won't be back any time soon. Got reports of a Red Wizard in the village south of here. Sending three rangers to investigate. If they catch even a whiff of a red cloak, I'm contacting the House of Silvanus.⁵
Given the timeline, while this is unlikely to have been written by Halsin himself, it seems like a strong possibility that it was written by his master, the previous Archdruid of the Emerald Grove, who perished in the fight against Ketheric Thorm. This is supported by the clear evidence that the author was an individual in a position to give direction and command to those around them, and to make the call for how to deal with various situations. Given too what we know of the druidic leadership structure, Halsin would have been the previous Archdruid’s Second, as Kagha was his.⁶ 
This man, then, would have greatly influenced Halsin as a druid of Silvanus and as a leader both. We can presume that this watchful duty and deliberation was one that Halsin himself took over, charged with doing his part to maintain the Balance of the region around the grove.  This last point especially becomes even more significant in light of the following information, which comes not from Silvanus’s dogma, but rather from a description of his followers and traditions of worship: 
Members of the clergy work to redirect development and control populations through covert sponsorship of brigands, breeding and selective placing of predators, and other means. It is essential that such work be as secretive as possible, so that most folk view the servants of Silvanus as essentially benign lovers of trees. Wildlife breeding, nursing sick animals, and replanting trees and wild shrubs are all work that should be done as publicly as possible to support this perception – and as necessary work to redress the slipping Balance, of course.¹ [emphasis added]
It is clear from all preceding evidence, and this excerpt in particular, that the druids as a whole put far more thought and strategy into every aspect of their appearance and the perception of them than they would ever want outsiders to become aware of. Halsin himself corroborates this in-game, noting that, while druids might not like politicking, that certainly does not mean they haven’t the skill for it when called upon. 
For the sake of… well. (I have been advised by my legal counsel not to use “brevity” here.) Regardless! For the sake of my sanity and your time, I will refrain from going into further detail on specific instances that show this to be true of Halsin. I will merely encourage you, the reader, to consider the value this brings to his character and druids as a whole, and hope to encourage new appreciation for their refreshing complexity. 
In closing, I leave you with one final quote: 
Superior patience, natural knowledge, and anticipation are the hallmarks of a worthy servant of Silvanus.¹
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¹ Faiths and Pantheons. 2002. p. 63.
² Dragon Magazine #412. June 2012. pp. 22-3.
³ Rancid Note. In-Game Text. 
⁴ Halsin’s Journal, Vol I. In-Game Text. 
⁵ Logbook XII: 1371. In-Game Text. 
⁶ Grove Annals. In-Game Text.
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