#⋯ ꒰ა tapestry of stars ໒꒱ *·˚

[astrxealis]

@cxlrose thought of you w this (loz + sky ohmy) !!

Link with the wingsuit. He's a skykid now!

[astrxealis]

hi i heard it was ur bday so i did a quick very quick doodle 4 u and yes i hope that you had a very good bday today aster 🥺👉👈

HAI CALLI RAGHHH I JUST WOKE UP TO THIS ..... 🥺💗✨ THANKU SM OMG T___T little guy ... lil g'raha ... my happy heart 🥹💘

[juricel]

OML I got this idea stuck in my damn brain like-

Reader aka us, being the ruler of the cookie kingdom (the kingdom we currently own as the player), and Shadow Milk Cookie begging to be let in the kingdom because he wanted to cause silly danger and more mischief (in his corruption), to only fall in love with us (could potentially become a yandere but up to you) after a few days/weeks of meeting.

Like - reader as very sweet, calm and cool that made SMC fall hard in love for them ? 💙🩵

a/n: don't know about everyone else, but me, personally, if I see shadow milk cookie begging to be let in my kingdom, I'd be more than willing to take him in... need to promote him to 2 stars...

— yandere! jester! shadow milk cookie x ruler! reader

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა ۪ ׂ CONTENT WARNING: yandere themes, psychological and emotional manipulation, gaslighting, coercion, toxic relationships, extreme possessiveness, obsession, mind-breaking, corruption, shadow milk cookie is a cunt, slow-burn destruction, degradation, despair, entrapment, dependency, unhealthy power dynamics, existential horror, and dark romanticization of suffering, its written in shadow milk perspective so it's romanticized, potential ooc.

𖦁 above the high tower—so pristine, so sickeningly pure—a utopia. a kingdom balanced on the trembling fulcrum of equality, on the polished illusion of prosperity, on that laughable dream of heaven. when first he heard of it, he scoffed, a knowing little chuckle curling at the edge of his lips. a kingdom so spotless was a kingdom awaiting its first stain. a place so righteous, so unbearably good, was nothing more than a stage trembling in anticipation of its first act of sin. and if corruption was its fate—oh, the sweet, inexorable pull of ruin—then why not be the hand that guides it? the first dark filament woven into its tapestry, the first exquisite crack in its porcelain? for after all, what greater pleasure was there than watching a kingdom of splendor crumble? to witness the slow unraveling, the first fractures lacing through their golden foundations, the hesitant, horrified realization dawning in their wide, unspoiled eyes? a bliss; the way grandeur rots from within, the way righteousness sours into desperation. It was always such fun, never failing to elicit a laughter from his lips—to watch their heaven buckle under the weight of its own impossible promises, to see their shining citadel collapse into the very ruin they swore could never touch them.

𖦁 at first, that was his sole plan—a swift, merciless tainting, a single decisive stroke to mar their pristine dream. but ah, immediate corruption lacked artistry, lacked finesse, and it was certainly not his modus operandi. no, no, he was not some blunt force of ruin, some crude agent of chaos. his was a subtler touch, a patient, insidious creeping of decay. surely, it wouldn’t hurt to let the rot seep in slowly, to let the kingdom sip its own poison drop by drop? after all, a thing does not truly break unless it first believes itself unbroken. and what was the first step to that, but to endear the ruler? to weave himself into their favor, to become the whispered counsel at their ear, the trusted shadow at their side? a kingdom so pure, so blissfully naïve, would never suspect the serpent if it spoke in honeyed tones, if it coiled itself in silken loyalty. let them trust him, let them open their gates, their hearts, their very souls. corruption was sweetest when it was invited in. and so he did; draped himself in the garb of mirth, painted his deception in bright, foolish colors. a performer, a jester—a harmless thing, a trinket for amusement, a creature of capers and laughter. how naturally it all fell into place, how perfectly the pieces clicked. he acted, he jested, he spun his illusions like golden thread, and just as he had anticipated—just as he had orchestrated—one day, you finally took notice. one day, you plucked him from the streets and placed him at your side: as your personal jester.

𖦁 Calm, composed, tender—a ruler carved from the finest marble, whose very breath seemed to hold the delicate rhythm of a perfect, untroubled reign. An embodiment of a perfect ruler, both to his twisted sense of definition and in the term followers coined; a sovereign that ruled with grace and collection, one who will choose peace of their own kingdom rather than theirs, and most importantly, a sovereign exquisite to break, a monarch to watch crumble apart at the seams. With an oh-so-frail hands, he slowly fed you poison, feeding you sweet lullabies lies with every single time he invited himself to your court, yet with such gentleness, such tender adoration, you hardly noticed the slow, treacherous drip of it into your veins. His touch was light, his voice a soothing lullaby, his eyes a mirror to your own desires, reflecting the very world he had already begun to fracture. You laughed in his presence, you adored him as a child adores the fool who dances for their amusement, never suspecting the subtle malice woven beneath the laughter. You were the imperator, crowned and naive, and he—oh, he was no more than a jester, a trickster, a soft-spoken destroyer. He seeped in, unnoticed, beneath the cloak of love, until the kingdom you ruled had turned to ash. Every moment he spent by your side, every gentle word he whispered, drew you closer to the inevitable end. He was not the harbinger of doom, merely its messenger, and you, sweet sovereign, had already embraced the fall—he wasn't cruel! no, far from it, he was simply speeding up the process of your fate.

𖦁 Piece by piece, the delicate order of your kingdom crumbled, the carefully woven threads of control slipping, unraveling into the quiet chaos that waited with open arms. It was such a quiet delight, watching your face—watching the once-imperious set of your features soften, grow fragile. His sweet darling, his imperator—did you enjoy his performance? His quiet theatrics? The way he danced so close to your frail soul, each movement a deliberate stroke in the masterpiece of your undoing? Your laughter—so exquisite, so heartbreakingly tender—spilled into the air like the final note of a dying melody, trembling before fading into something unrecognizable. No longer the regal, composed mirth of a ruler, but something frayed at the edges, something raw, something slipping through your fingers before you could grasp what had changed. And he watched, oh, how he watched, as each delicate layer of your serenity cracked, one by one. And just as he had foreseen, you sought refuge in him—clinging, desperate, drawn to the very hands that had undone you. You needed him, craved the sweet poisons he fed you, each drop a fleeting reprieve from the reality gnawing at the edges of your soul and who was he but a sweet jester, a silken-tongued fool draped in motley mirth? After all, you were his dearest majesty, sovereign of his affections, and if such a luminous crown sought more of his quaint little revels, if those imperial fingers curled, ever so faintly, in silent demand—ah, how could he deny you? You were his to break, and break you he did—so gently, so tenderly, so exquisitely.

𖦁 And ah, how utterly darling you were like that—weren’t you meant to be the perfect ruler, the unshaken sovereign, the very pillar upon which your kingdom stood? But worry not! For he, your ever-faithful jester, would always be there to lift your spirits, to coo and fawn and wrap you in the silken embrace of his honeyed falsehoods. Sweetly, tenderly, he guided your gaze away from the creeping decay, his fingers featherlight as they covered your eyes, his touch a gentle shroud over the truth he was so lovingly unraveling. He was your jester, your fool, a puppet crafted for your amusement, a plaything meant to make you laugh—yet, oh, how beautifully the strings had tangled. For here you were, trembling beneath him, his sweet little sovereign, his fragile darling, lost and despairing, just as you were always meant to be. He yearned to keep you just like this—to clutch the dying breath of your laughter, to sink his fingers into it and squeeze until nothing remained but the broken echoes of something once bright. But joy was meaningless, a trinket easily shattered; no, the true rapture, the thing that set his soul alight, was your despair, your ruin, the exquisite tremor in your breath as realization crawled through your mind like a slow, cold hand. Oh, how he adored the way your smile faltered, how he savored the flicker of fear in those celestial eyes, the way your very soul seemed to wither beneath his touch. You were his masterpiece, your suffering a symphony, each fragile crack in your spirit a note in the melody he had composed with such tender cruelty. Your radiant smile, your trembling gaze—how divine they were, poised at the very edge of oblivion. And oh, how perfect you would be, entombed in eternity, frozen forever in that exquisite moment of collapse. Never whole again, never beyond his reach, never anything but his—his to twist, his to shatter, his to own. No one else could have you. No one else would understand. No one else deserved to witness the fragile, broken thing he had so carefully sculpted. You were his—his ruin, his darling, his little sovereign—forever and only his.

𖦁 Oh, but do not misunderstand him! He loved you, loved you wholly, the way a flame loves the fragile moth that it lures, the way a poet loves the ink that stains his trembling hands. Your gentleness, your calm, your measured poise—these he cherished, yes, these he cradled in the hollow of his palms like something sacred. But oh, his love, what he adored—no, what he worshipped—was that part of you which most repulsed yourself. The cracks, the stains, the lovely little rot that clung to your soul like mold upon marble. Your cruddy, your ruin, the decay that softened your edges into something closer—ah, so much closer—to his own. It was in that wretchedness that he found divinity; it was in your unbecoming that he saw you, at last, becoming his, a reflection of himself. He wanted you broken, petrified, stripped of all that made you whole. But don’t be so upset, won’t you? This was your fate, after all—etched into the marrow of your bones long before you could protest. You were blinded, drunk on the illusions of heaven and prosperity, stumbling through the gilded halls of your own self-deceit. And being the good little jester that he was, ever so devoted to his craft, he helped you out—by corrupting you, warping you, twisting your kingdom into a grotesque parody of its former glory. A kindness, really. A mercy.

a/n: one thing that you can always trust me to do is that if it is possible to include yandere! shadow milk cookie, i WILL include him but i do feel like its starting to get repetitive. also, just woke up after finishing writing this in the middle of the night and i just realized how far this was from the requester's request but... the damage is already done, somebody kill me NOW.

[snowflakesstrawberrymatcha]

Midnight Melody

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

Montague x fem!reader

A/N: Look at the beautiful night while writing is awesome!

Requests: None

TW: None

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

It was during my first week at the hotel, as the evening sun dipped behind the mountains, that I stumbled upon Montague. He stood by the grand piano in the lounge—a stark silhouette against the gentle radiance of candelight. His dark gray-blue coat hung on him like a shadow, and his heterochromatic eyes, one brown and one blue, radiated a peculiar warmth under the dim lights.

“Ah, a new face!” he said, flashing a smile that lit up his features, even as his hair danced with the colors of dusk: black and white intertwined. I introduced myself shyly, aware of the churning storms in my chest. He invited me to join him at the piano, and though I knew little about music, something compelled me to stand closer.

“Do you have a song?” he inquired, his eyes holding mine with a depth I found disarming. I hesitated, staring at my reflection in the polished surface of the piano.“Only fragments,” I confessed, my heart racing as I sensed his curiosity ignite.“Fragments can be beautiful,” he replied, a smirk teasing his lips. “Would you show me?”Despite the churning in my stomach, I nodded. I started to hum an old lullaby that my mother used to sing, my voice barely above a whisper. The melody escaped me as if set free from years of confinement, and Montague filled the space around us with cascading chords that wove a magical tapestry. It was simple, but something deep within me resonated with the notes, pushing me to sing louder, to let the melody expand like petals of a blooming flower.

As my voice floated through the room, I saw his expression shift. There was an intensity in his gaze that made me momentarily forget I was singing in front of one of the most enigmatic men I had ever encountered. The song reached its climax, soaring into an ethereal realm, and in that moment, I felt a connection—a bridge forged between our souls.When the last note faded into the air, silence enveloped us. Montague’s brown and blue eyes sparkled with unshed emotions, as if he had been spellbound. “You have an extraordinary voice,” he told me softly. “It carries the weight of a thousand nights.”The nights that followed were steeped in music and companionship. Our evenings became a ritual; I would sing, and he would play, losing ourselves in melodies and sweet harmonies like star-crossed lovers dancing in the embrace of the moonlight. Montague, with his ensemble of stunning compositions, managed to coax my timid heart out of hiding. We talked of dreams and fears, hopes and regrets, sharing tales as the snow fell softly against the windows, creating a blanket of silence around us. The mountains glinted in the moonlight, and the air was crisp, almost intoxicating. As we leaned against the railing, the world beyond seemed to vanish. He began, gazing into the distance. “I wonder if I’ve also built walls around my heart. I never expected someone like you to breach those fortifications so effortlessly.” My heart fluttered at his words, wondering if the flicker of hope dancing during our evenings had ignited something deeper between us. “What would you have me do?” I asked, my voice steady despite the turmoil within.“Let this be our secret,” he replied, his eyes glistening under the stars. “The melodies we share, the silence we create together, they belong to us and us alone.”I nodded, entranced by the idea, but a nagging doubt lingered in my mind. What could a man like Montague—the owner of this grand hotel, the guardian of dreams—want with someone as ordinary as me?

The days turned into weeks, and our connection deepened, yet a chasm of uncertainty loomed in my heart. Montague would often glance at me with a longing that twisted my insides, and though I thrived in the warmth of his presence, I could feel the gravity of my own insecurities pulling me down.One fateful night, after a particularly haunting melody we had conjured together, he drew closer, his breath mingling with the winter air. “There’s something I must tell you,” he whispered, his voice low yet clear. “You’ve woven your song into the fabric of my existence. I’ve fallen… deeply, irrevocably in love with you.”Those words struck like a bell tolling through the deepest valleys. I stood frozen momentarily, my mind a whirlwind. How could he offer his heart so freely when I felt so unworthy?“Montague,” I started, my voice trembling. “I—I don’t know how to fit into your world.”“You already do,” he said, his gaze unwavering, filled with so much sincerity, it was overwhelming. “Love is not about fitting into each other’s lives; it’s about creating a new one together. You’ve become my midnight melody—the quiet strength that inspires me to break down the walls of my fortress.” Tears stung my eyes as my resolve began to melt away, revealing the vulnerabilities I had hidden for far too long. I stepped closer, feeling the warmth radiate from him. “I’m afraid,” I confessed, my voice barely a whisper.“Don’t be,” he replied gently, wrapping his arms around me.

“Together, we can face the fears that haunt us.”In that moment, I surrendered, not just to him, but to the love we had nurtured, fragile yet beautiful. The Grand Glacier, with all its grandeur, faded into the shadows as I pressed my lips against his, sealing our promise under the starlit sky.We would walk through the trials of life hand in hand, composing our own symphony, our midnight melody echoing through eternity—a love story etched, where heartbreak had shattered and harmony had finally bloomed.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

[katarixa]

꒰ა ˚₊ ┈﹕꒰ #Birthday_Series ꒱﹕┈ ‧₊˚໒꒱

“With love and blessing, for Baekhyun Sunbae-nim” commemorating the—32 years old.

On this remarkable day, a star was born, whose relentless dedication and passion illuminate the darkest paths and inspire countless hearts across the globe. As you celebrate another year of life's beautiful journey, I want to express my deepest gratitude for every moment you've shared, every smile, and every challenge you've embraced with unwavering courage.

Through the highs and lows, your spirit has never faltered, etching a legacy of resilience and grace that dances through the strings of our lives like a melody of hope. Your tireless efforts, whether on luminous stages or behind the quiet curtains of practice rooms, have not gone unnoticed. Each drop of sweat, each fleeting sigh bears witness to your commitment to excellence, making you not just an artist but a beacon for all who dare to dream big.

Thank you for pouring your soul into every performance, for the sleepless nights spent perfecting your craft, and for the smiles you craft through your art, which light up my worlds. Your journey is a vivid tapestry woven with threads of tenacity and splendor, and every year, as you add another vibrant thread, I feel an overwhelming pride and joy in witnessing your blossoming.

As you step into another year, may it be filled with the laughter, the warmth of love, and the continuing applause of your fans worldwide. May your days be as bright as the impact you've made on the world, filled with new inspirations and achievements that mirror the depth of your talent and heart.

So here’s to you, on your special day—may it be as magnificent as the magic you bring into my lives. Happy Birthday! Here's to more music, more milestones, and more moments where you shine your brightest light. Continue to be the incredible person you are, and remember, no matter how tough the journey, your efforts are the reason for someone's smile today. Keep soaring, keep inspiring, and keep making the world a better place, just by being you.

Happy Birthday, for Baekhyun Roleplayers and the real Baekhyun Sunbae-nim.

[snowflakesstrawberrymatcha]

Sunset drive

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

Montague x fem!reader

A/n: Lovely Night. Thank you for looking and appreciate my work!

Request: none

TW: None

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The sun began its slow descent, casting a rich tapestry of oranges, purples, and gold across the sky.

I heard the low rumble of his car engine—a vintage model that transported us to any era we desired—echoing through the parking lot. I stepped outside, the cool evening air wrapping around me like a soft embrace. Montague leaned against the vehicle, wearing a charming smile that could melt ice from the very wall that loomed above us.

“Ready for our sunset drive?” he asked, his voice a smooth, inviting melody that filled my chest with warmth. “Always,” I replied, my heart racing as I approached him.We climbed into the car, the scent of leather and old wood enveloping us. His fingers brushed against mine as he turned the key, a spark of electricity sparking in the air between us. I quickly withdrew my hand, hiding the blush that crept across my cheeks.The road ahead twisted beautifully between the peaks, each turn revealing breathtaking views of the mountains painted by the setting sun. Montague drove with precision, his focus unwavering, yet his gaze flickered to me often, as if measuring the distance between our unspoken feelings.

The silence between us was filled with a symphony of unarticulated thoughts and hopes.“Do you remember the first time we came here?” he said suddenly, breaking our reverie.I smiled, lost in the memory. “How could I forget? You took me on a hike up to the valley, convinced I needed to see the stars without the city’s glow.”“We lay there for hours,” he reminisced, laughter dancing in his tone. “You were terrified of falling asleep, thinking you might miss the stars’ first appearance. I promised to wake you up, but it was you who woke me. You shook me awake like I was a child, pointing at the sky in awe.”I chuckled softly at his recollection. “There’s something soothing about the unknown, don’t you think?” His gaze drifted back to the road, but I sensed the intensity beneath his calm exterior."Maybe,” I replied carefully, “but it can also be frightening. Uncertainty has a way of haunting the heart." He glanced at me, his blue eye crackling with electricity.

“What haunts your heart, then?" Tipping my head back against the seat, I gazed at the glass-studded sky, hoping the stars would offer me courage. But they remained silent, nestled in the twilight.“You,” I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “This connection between us… it feels so intense, yet so fragile.” Montague slowed the car, pulling over into a secluded overlook. The mountains rose majestically before us, their peaks awash in the soft glow of twilight. I could almost hear the echoes of our laughter from that first hike. “What do you want from me?” he asked, shifting his body to face me, the tension in his voice unmistakable. The moment was electric; the distance between us surged with both fear and longing. My heart raced like the winds that brushed over the cliffs. “What do you want, Montague?” He hesitated, vulnerability and strength intertwining in his gaze. “I want you to know that behind the walls I’ve built, there’s a longing I’ve tried to suppress—the one for connection, your connection.”All the air seemed to fizzle out of my lungs. My heartbeat echoed in my ears as realization coursed through me. This wasn’t merely a sunset drive; it was a pivotal juncture in our relationship, one that could either set us soaring into the clouds or plunge us into uncertainty. “Why have you been afraid to say it?” I questioned softly, searching his features for answers.“Because I fear that it could create a rift between us,” he replied, his voice earnest. “What if we get lost in the unknown?”“Sometimes we have to embrace the unknown,” I replied, lifting my chin higher, fueled by unsteady resolve. “It’s part of living, Montague. Maybe even part of loving.”His gaze held mine, the weight of our words lingering in the air. “Then let’s not be afraid. Let’s step into that uncertainty together.”With a leap of faith that surprised me, I reached out, intertwining my fingers with his, feeling the warmth radiate between us. The moment crystallized, the sharp frisson of our connection grounding me in the now.Montague leaned closer, and the world fell away, leaving only the tidy roar of the wind and the vibrant palette of the sunset stretching over the horizon. “I’ve admired you from the start, you know,” he whispered before closing the distance, capturing the warmth of our dreams in a sweet embrace.With the first stars puncturing the dusk, I finally understood: The road ahead may hold traumas, sorrows, and uncertainties, yet with Montague at my side, I knew we would face it all, hand in hand, heart in heart.And so, beneath the Zenith Wall, our home embraced us in its luxurious mystery as we embarked on this journey together, guided by the soft glow of the evening sky and the power of the love waiting to bloom between us.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

[astrxealis]

@tiredsleep ayo, thought u might want to see this maybe ? 🥹

in another life, will we have a happy ending?

[astrxealis]

@heizoussidebadonkers hey look ... scara <333

saw him for .5 seconds and had to draw bc i have no self control

[astrxealis]

@pricelesstecrs him. he's so pretty

erenville in froggy company

[astrxealis]

@noxtivagus @clovcly ><

obsessed with her for real

[astrxealis]

@noxtivagus YOUR BELOVED

Some more level 80 glamour.

[astrxealis]

@4ganyus reno hell yeah !! ❤️

endless list of favorite characters → reno (final fantasy 7)

[astrxealis]

XIAO ... XIAOWOOEJEHWHSIDHWKDH

i really like xiao :>

[astrxealis]

@noxtivagus

“Chocolate? For me?”

[astrxealis]

wow i rlly forgot abt this multiple times even omg my memory fails me at the young age of below 18 BUT YES i am looking.... he.......... <333

I didn’t really understand his anatomy so maybe when I fully get it I’ll try again.

He’s the real reason why I felt like saving Hyrule faster.

[astrxealis]

METEION ... sweet child ...... T___T <33

meteion