#Elegant Butterfly Gift Ideas | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bloodytittiez · 9 months ago

Text

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys [*gets shot*] I know I've never posted any of my writings before, even though I write fanfiction, but this has been collecting dust in my google docs page for nearly two years and it was too good to not share it with you my little kinky freaks/lh/aff (at least I think so)! I hope you enjoy this little smut fic - English isn't my first language so excuse some possible spelling and grammar errors, please... also, KEEP IN MIND THIS WAS A DRAFT! There's a lot of time skips and I doubt I'll ever finish it.

CONTENT WARNING: AFAB reader, vaginal sex, oral sex, teasing, heavy dirty talking, sex without condom, consensual non-consensual, phone sex, masturbation, public sex, porn with plot.

———

Red and blue lights flickering outside, tree branches tapping against the snowy windows of the sorority house. The soft, slow tunes and delicious scents of cinnamon and ginger cookies flowing in the air...

Christmas, such a family centered holiday where there's only place for laughs and sweet surprises, was completely ruined yet another year by him.

It was the fourth time in the night the moaner called. You could see your roommates gag at the blasphemies and curses the stranger yelled at the phone to each one of them– while you seemed to enjoy them in secret.

《Nasty… F-Filthy piggy. Bi-Billy has a big juicy fat cock he k-knows you’d love to suck on… I-It’s dripping wet and it f-fits in your mouth.》

You crossed your legs as ‘‘Billy’’ —you had no idea if that even was his actual name— spat nonsensical words for the sake of feeling some friction against your womanhood. His descriptions were so detailed that you could picture them perfectly in your head.

《Billy w-will kill each one of you… Tonight.》He breathed out in a way that felt almost a threat, his sentence getting distorted when it reached the other side of the line. Everyone could tell he was all tensed up for the way he gripped the phone.

《I can’t stand you anymore, you fucking pig!》

《Pig… P-piggy! Naughty piggy…》 The moaner repeated, mocking a very stressed out Jess Bradford.

《Jess.》 You interrupted the leader of your group with a serene expression, finally standing up from your seat when you felt her anxiety grow. 《Let me take care of the situation.》 You suggested while you took the device out of her hands before she would say anything, and covering the speaker you added something;

《Why don’t you guys go to bed? It’s way too late already.》

《But we can’t leave you alone with that creep!》 Jess exclaimed.

《Don’t worry about it. Someone has to confront him already and that’s going to be me.》 You answered, already building up enough courage to complete the task. 《Please.》 You looked up at the concerned eyes of every girl occupying the room while you could hear Billy talking to himself on the other side of the line. 《You girls need some rest. It’s been a long day.》

Jess and the rest stood there in silence, trusting your words. She gave you a small nod and parted her lips to articulate a silent ‘‘thank you’’ before leaving the room with relief. You knew she didn’t have enough energy to argue, and so did the rest.

You smiled when you returned to the call, grabbing the phone with distinguished elegance in your movements. A soft smile formed in your face and felt a sudden flock of butterflies inside of your stomach. It definitely wasn’t a good idea to play along with who you knew was a creep, but a part of you loved the thrill and danger in doing that. You could hear your sweet mother’s voice in your head begging to stop what you were doing as you answered Billy. To hell with her warnings of not picking up the phone to strangers!

Tonight was going to be different. May this be your very own Christmas gift…

《Hello, Billy.》 You tried not to come off as rude at first.

《Yes, yes… Hello there, my darling… It's so nice to hear your voice. You sound like an angelic creature.》

《Do you know who I am?》 You asked.

《 Yes... Yes, I know you. The quietest slut of the bunch. Billy loves to see your pretty ass swaying around when you walk. Yes… You filthy, nasty whore love to tease Billy’s cock. I know that well. Billy saw this naughty piggy touch herself… S-saw you cry out for Billy in the intimacy of your room.》

You couldn’t help but fluster at his obscene rambling and switched the phone to your other hand. You were the kind of person that would move around constantly when you felt nervous about something. In this case, a stranger that saw you masturbate plenty of times before. Poor you… How many times exactly did Billy hear you pronounce his name under muffled moans? You could feel your heart rate at the top of your throat, flooded in embarrassment as he playfully mocked you.

But; back to his confession though, you definitely couldn’t deny something that was completely true and after spending some seconds in silence you finally spoke up, a cigarette being held in between two of your shaky fingers so you could calm yourself down.

《Would you like me to do it now? Touch myself for you?》

《Yes. Yes. YES!》 He demanded in an almost feral manner.

You nodded in response to his pleas as the flame of your lighter lit the cigarette and kept paying attention to his delicious blasphemies. You were enjoying the moment more than you would like to admit. 《Touch yourself f-for B-Billy...》 He insisted, despair breaking in his voice. 《I want to hear your sweet moans like when you finger yourself alone.》

You held the phone between your ear and your shoulder, letting one of your hands completely free and trailing down to your skirt as the mysterious man dictated. 《Roll your skirt up… Billy wants to see your juicy ass aswell.》

Your pussy soon got filled with two of your fingers, exploring every inch of your insides.

You were so warm…

So wet…

It was hard to believe how turned on you could get by the phone calls of a creep. Being manipulated in such ways by a man that you'd never seen before.

《I'm doing it, Billy…》 You sighed, moaning his name under your soft breath. 《I'm touching myself.》

The mysterious man groaned and panted on the other side of the line, incapable of forming coherent words. 《Move the phone down to your pretty slick… Billy wants to hear the sound of your wet cunt.》

His voice sent chills down your spine while you placed the speaker close to your pussy, fingering it with oh, such passion in every one of your circular motions. Obviously, you made sure that the sound of the friction of your digits was audible enough for Billy.

《Fuck…》 He groaned once more. 《I want to taste your pretty pink cunt… Oh Y...Yes… I will. I bet it tastes as sweet as you do. B-Billy wants to lick your tits and your round juicy ass.》 The man chuckled with a childish tone as you could hear him stroking his length while getting indulged in his fantasies. 《Suck on your nipples too… Squeeze those tits ‘till they turn red like two christmas ornaments…》

His words made you shove your fingers even deeper in you. You were getting too carried away right when you heard the mysterious man hang up the phone.

You grabbed it close to your ear, wondering what happened.

《Hello? Billy? Are you still there?》

Only the empty beeping of the phone answered you, leaving you completely disappointed and wet.

You took a deep puff of your cigarette and hung up the phone in return when you got tired of listening to the dull melody of the lost connection, then mumbled something and decided to go to your room for some rest too. Maybe Jess and Barb were right after all, there was no point on wasting your time on that fucking moaner guy you all couldn’t stand.

You turned off the lights outside, blew the candles in the living room and grabbed a little candy cane from the coffee table. You thought the night was over and your only comfort now was a little sugary treat.

But, when you suddenly walked into a dark corner of the stairs, a pair of big hands pinned you on the wall. An audible yelp escaped your lips as you heard a man's voice speaking in an attempt to reassure you. It was the same one you'd always hear on the phone.

《Shh… S...Shhh… It's okay… It's me, Billy.》

The man caressed your cheeks in a sloppy manner and covered your mouth. 《Pretty piggy… Where do you think you are going? Billy isn't finished with you yet… There are so many nasty things Billy wants to do to you…》

You tried to pick small bits of his face in the darkness when he slowly released you from his grasp. It felt rather strange to see him in person.

A tall figure partially hidden in the shadows, green eyes that would stare directly into your soul and long, curly hair caressing the sides of his forehead. Billy's description didn't fit his personality at all. He had the looks of a gentleman but the mouth of the devil. Although; you had to be honest about something. You still wanted to fuck Billy despite of his looks. They didn't matter much to you when his low and menacing tone is what drove you absolutely crazy for him at first.

His hot breath hitting against your neck soon turned you on again.

《Billy… I thought you weren't interested in me anymore. Why did you hang up on me?》You pouted, wanting to tease him as an act of revenge.

The way you said those words, with such a sweet yet innocent tone made the man react in ways you exactly wanted him to.

《N...No. Billy came a-all the way here to see you. Billy craves your body.》

You dragged his fingers across the line of your lips as an excuse to turn him on as well. You liked the way he sounded, so nervous. He could break down at any moment and you liked that.

The warmth of his digits along the surface of your puffy lips, bringing goosebumps across your whole body. You parted your lips and spoke again.

《How much do you crave my body?》 You attempted to lick his index finger to which got you a slight moan in response.

《S-So much...》

《Show me then, Billy. I’ve been wanting to do this for the longest time…》

You finally confessed while you rolled your tongue out of your mouth and placed his finger on top. You sucked on it gently from the base to the tip.

———

Billy yanked your hair with such strength, dragging your puffy velvet lips to his dripping cock. His tip forced them open and soon his shaft filled your mouth hole.

Strands of hair tangled up around his fingers, both of you now locked together for god knows how long. You made the man shiver with anticipation as his tip brushed the back of your throat, leaving it hot and irritated.

You couldn't help but gag and drool repeatedly for he didn't give you a single break. But you didn't mind. You finally had what you craved.

‘‘Billy's juicy fat cock…’’

His words showed up in your brain, accompanied by a clear image of the cock that was stuffing your mouth in that very moment. Your horny mind couldn't help but recap every single quote that made you fall madly in love with him. Blame it on your degrading kink as a result of many failed relationships.

Billy bent you over with the same strength as before, ripping a yelp out of your throat while you grabbed the handrails so you wouldn't fall down the stairs and cause a scene.

Your ass now completely exposed was facing him, rubbing against his wet cock.

The man leaned over you and hands crawled around your stomach to hold you firmly as he would start rocking his hips at a slow pace. His left hand roamed free around your belly and later your clit, while his right one stayed busy pinching and twisting your nipples ever so slightly.

Billy could make you scream at any given time.

He could definitely break you. Turn you into his pretty little fucktoy, but having sex in a set of stairs definitely required some precaution.

《Billy. We should move somewhere else…》You gasped as soon as you could catch some air and already felt your whole body sore from standing up there. 《What if someone wakes up and sees us here?》

《If someone sees us…》 He repeated. 《I…It won't matter. I want them to see YOU moaning f-for Billy. Want them t…to see just how good you can take a cock.》

He purred into your ear as he covered your mouth to force your jaw open widely for him. Holding your breasts better around his hands he rubbed them together and squeezed them. You felt his wet cock pressing against your folds, desperately trying to make its way inside of you. God it felt so good to finally experience how all of his sinful threats came true one by one. Little whines came out of your mouth when you tried to accommodate to his size but he didn't let you. He was more than aware of his power and chuckled playfully.

《Billy's cock feels so good inside of your wet cunt. You are taking it so well. So tremendously well. Don't stop squealing, my little dirty piggy.》

You obeyed and let out a bunch of more moans caused by the pain of quick and deep thrusts. It was embarrassing to echo your satisfaction to an empty living room... And definitely hoped the girls closed their doors upstairs.

———

Billy noticed the red and white swirled candy that you were holding in your hands and took it from you while he turned your body around so that you could face him now.

Still holding your waist, he licked the candy cane until it would remain a little damped. You were staring at his eyes in a mix of excitement and curiosity the whole time and snickered.

He spreaded your folds and shoved the candy inside.

《Billy's gonna make this wet cunt even tastier.》

———

The chorus of early birds singing outside and gentle sunrays kissing your face woke you up the next morning. You stretched your arms, your legs and then… A pinch on your sore waist fully woke you up. You remembered what happened last night soon after that and smiled.

You sat up in bed and noticed a candy cane wrapped its plastic with a small green bow and a note. You had no idea when and how it got there, perhaps Claude; the sorority cat stole it from the silver platter downstairs and left it in your bed as a mere coincidence. You elongated your arm to pick it up and brushed strands of hair behind your ears to read it better.

It said ''Merry Christmas. With love, Billy'' in a surprisingly tidy calligraphy.

His name made your heart flutter and cheeks aroused when you remembered more details about last night.

You unwrapped the candy cane and tasted it, its sweet flavor melting in your tongue.

Maybe Christmas wasn't completely ruined this year.

#fanfic #smut #black christmas 1974 #black christmas #billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #billy lenz x you #slashers #slasher community #slasher movies #slasher smut #billy lenz smut #female reader

435 notes · View notes

svtcrus · 1 year ago

Text

Broken Walls || rezef hill x fem!reader

a/n : found this in my notes and really liked how this turned out. a little change of pace, gotta put out sum fluff💀 but I hope yall like this !

synopsis : rezef hill finds himself falling in love with his sister's dear friend.

rezef never once expected himself to find a woman he'd fall in love with if he was completely honest. he'd expected to find himself at the altar marrying a stranger, just days after being told he would have a arranged marriage.

he never expected to find true love due to the fact every woman would come flaunting to him with their "oh so high" status, and preposterous personalities. or perverted nobles trying to seduce him for the fact he is the only crown prince of the empire. a handsome, ambitious crown prince where every lady believed they could tear down his walls. a stupid fairytale dream, others thought. a fairytale dream he thought would remain a mere dream.

this feeling, love, was something he believed he didn't need. he didn't deserve. as him being the future emperor, such boastful feelings were deemed unnecessary to him. especially with the heavy influence of his father and the late empress's torn relationship.

but then you came along. your small visits to the castle to visit your dear friend cayena, his beloved sister. would soon enough catch the lapis eyes of the tyrannical prince.

once he saw you as just his sisters close friend. then after a social background check, he thought of you as either a pawn for his ascension, or a nuisance to his precious elder sister. oh how much he regrets at such rude ideas now.

your smile that lit up around the castle, you seemed to always appear in his sight right after he's had another raging outburst or when he simply had a bad day. were those moments a sign?

he'd always notice you from high up in the castle hallways, looking down at the garden where your laughter erupted whenever you and cayena talked.

he'd soon find himself smiling at how graceful you danced, as your dress followed with your elegant movements during parties you both attended to. you radiated so much warmth wherever you went.

he remembers when he first asked you for a dance on his birthday. you didn't act like how those other ladies would. ladies who'd flaunt their "beauty" as they beg on their knees for him to dance with them. or ladies who would weirdly accept when he's forced to set foot on the ballroom floor. instead you accepted his request with much respect and eloquent joy. you were just, different.

"oh your highness the crown prince, I would love to dance with you," you said so sweetly. your gentle voice echoed in his head that very night.

he remembers how his hands held your beautiful body, your precious hands. how his eyes couldn't help but stare into your crystal orbs, and painted lips. you were a treasure, he so desperately wanted to keep.

the way you smiled at him with so much honesty when you danced with him. despite the glares of other noble ladies who were completely outraged and envious of your spotlight, you had paid no mind.

soon after that ball, he'd invite you for a day of tea. trying to embrace the moments his sister had enjoyed whenever you had tea with her.

tea time soon turned to walks around his own garden, then horseback riding, to him spoiling you with gifts when you two snuck out into the capital in disguise.

he reminisces to the time you had giddily told him to sneak out the palace one night. to go see the lake you loved since you were a child. together, alone.

that was when he had fully let himself sink into this love he realized he had for you. and if it wasn't love, he didn't know what this butterfly fleeting emotion would be.

you let him grasp the missed times of his youth, experience the fun things a child would normally do. you let out his inner child, you became the first person to fully see his vulnerability. you became the first and only person to break down those wall's everyone else wanted to break.

then one day on one your escapades. he confessed.

"Y/n.. I have something to say. for quite some time I have found this liking towards you. everything i do with you has always given me happiness, a happiness I didn't know I deserved. hah.. your sweet meaningful nothings, your beautiful smile. who knew I'd be so dumb in love...

what I'm trying to say is.. I love you."

he was only in a white blouse shirt and a hooded cape that day. never expecting to be professing his love in such inappropriate clothing. to ask you to be his, his future crown princess. yet here he was.

oh the way the way your eyes sparkled, despite the clear tears that were ready to fall. he hadn't expected you to cry, his eyes widened with panic, hands on your cheeks holding you with worry.

you softly chuckled at his reaction, you placed your smaller hand atop of his. leaning into his hold as you looked at him so blissfully. the moment where you had answered the question he dreaded for you to respond to.

"I love you too your highness, Rezef"

soon enough rezef proposed to you at that same place. when you swung around as he held you with his strong arms. tears streaming your face, while he kissed the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. you both couldn't have been more happier.

━━━┅━━━━*✧·̩͙♧︎🛩️♧︎·̩͙✧*━━━━┅━━

©️ @svtcrus || 08.07.2023

#cowon.writings #rezef hill #rezef x reader #rezef #rezef hill x reader #the villainess is a marionette #manhwa #manhwa x reader #manhwaxreader #the villainess is a marionette x reader

1K notes · View notes

etheries1015 · 1 year ago

Text

A fearful realization - Malleus X reader

A scenario in which you finally realize your feelings for the fae, however, the feeling doesn't leave you as elated as one may think.

"And thus, we have a gift prepared for all of you," Malleus Draconias voice rang through the hall of the masquerade event, confused whispers mix of excitement and nervousness rang throughout the students. Your eye brows furrowed in confusion yet a smile on your face remained nonetheless as Malleus, Azul, and Idia took center stage.

The moment he began to sing, you could have sworn you had tunnel vision. All you saw was Malleus Draconia, perfectly elegant up on that stage serenading the entire student body, yet everyone in the room seemed to just...vanish. You could feel warmth crawl up to your cheeks, your heart stinging as butterflies with sharp wings fluttered in your stomach. Had he always such a beautiful, entrancing voice? Have you ever noticed before the way he gracefully carried himself when you were so used to seeing him as an innocent student who hadn't much of a clue of common sense? When had he become such...a prince, in your eyes? These questions had pulled you away from reality for but a moment, not realizing you began to zone out as you listened to the singing until a voice pulled you out of your trance.

"(Y/N)?" Silver asked, landing a hand on your shoulder, "Are you alright? Your face is red. Are you sick? You must be exhausted without proper rest from the entire event," The silver-haired boy looked at you with concern in his eyes. Silver...you could trust him, right? He was like a little brother to you, a close friend, someone you could...No. You must keep this to yourself. You mustn't get so attached, your resolve must stay strong, you convinced yourself as such the moment you came to twisted wonderland.

"Sick.." You murmured, "Y-yeah something...something like that. I'm- I'm fine, Silver. Thank you though." Not fully convinced, his words were cut off as Malleus sang the high note of the song, to which your attention was quickly redirected to the tall, mesmerizing man with glowing emerald eyes that captivated your own. Your heart pounded in your chest, tingling as if pins and needles were poking rapidly at the organ. As the song came to a finish, you began to recall the entire night Malleus had done this to you somehow. Pulling you in as he had done many times before, Yet something felt...different, this time around. The whole trip to Fleur City has left your cheeks unwillingly rosy and your mind swirling in confusion, yearning for more as Malleus most likely unknowingly left you in a position of flustered heartbeats and disarray.

You kept thinking back to those moments, the way he said your name and looked at you with such tenderness before running off to save everyone, the way he always managed to find a way to be by your side, the way he thought of you as you fell with everyone else...the way he noticed you when it seemed as if you were falling behind the curtains, asking to sit by you simply to hear your thoughts when no one else seemed to particularly care. Seeing him there, the silly gargoyle-loving nerd who had spent the entire trip wishing to talk to you and be near you, under the spotlight with a little gift he had the idea of preparing...how much you admired him at this moment had been the final crack in your resolve.

"This...this is bad. really bad. My chest hurts...I.." You clutched the clothing in front of your heart, sucking in air quickly holding back stinging tears that threatened to leave your eyes. Silver tugged your arm in hopes you would move with him, to get you away from the crowd yet you wouldn't budge, your wide-eyed gaze not wavering from the draconic fae.

He's your friend. A very caring, and loving friend who simply wants another person to share his thoughts with. To him you are nothing more than that, a magicless human from another world who was eager to make friends. Nothing more...nothing..

"Your chest hurts? (y/n) What's going on? Are you alright?" You slowly turned to silver sweat beading your brow and your chest dropping into the pit of your stomach like a ball of lead slamming to the pavement. The boy was shocked to see sparkles of tears beginning to slip down your cheek running past the mask you wore.

"I think...I think I'm in love with Malleus," You spit out before you could tell yourself otherwise. Before Silver could be excited and express his joy for you confiding in him, you cut him off with a trembling hushed and panicked voice.

"And I'm terrified of it."

Pt. 2

~~~

Masterlist

#Twisted wonderland #Twst #Twisted wonderland x reader #twst X reader #Malleus draconia #twst imagines #twisted wonderland fanfiction #Twisted wonderland headcannons #Malleus #Malleus draconia x reader #Malleus x reader #Malleus twst #twisted wonderland malleus

678 notes · View notes

sarahscribbles · 1 year ago

Note

What if you did a summer fic where it started out really fluffy where Loki and reader go to the pool or lake, but then the reader pushes Loki in and it’s just like playful fight and then they have pool or lake sex 💀

I meant this to be super smutty but these fools had their own idea and it's smuffy instead! I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! This probably has the most anti-climatic ending every and I'm sorry! 😅

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒.𝟓𝐤

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

There are many things you dislike about Tony Stark.

You dislike his arrogance that’s barely mellowed a fraction with age. You dislike how he refuses to back down in an argument, even when it’s painfully clear to everyone else that he’s wrong. You dislike the way he makes his hot chocolate with water and has the nerve to call it “the real thing.”

But one thing you adore about him is his generosity.

It’s because of Tony that you can feel a warm afternoon breeze gently caressing your bare skin. It’s, thankfully, not unbearably hot. Instead, it provides just the perfect amount of relief against the mid morning sun that’s making the Pacific Ocean glitter invitingly before you. The breeze brings with it the fragrant scent of the manicured garden just down below, and you can’t help but close your eyes to breathe it in. There are traces of orange and vanilla perfuming the air, along with something spicy that you’ve failed to discern after two days.

It’s a strange combination of scents, yet somehow it works. It reminds you that you’re a million miles away from New York and everything that comes with it.

You aren’t going to be called to any ridiculously early training sessions with Rogers, or asked to help break up whatever pissing contest Thor and Tony have going on. For two weeks - two glorious weeks - you’re just a normal person celebrating her anniversary with the love of her life.

Only you’re doing so on a private island in Mexico that you flew to on Tony Stark’s private jet.

This was his gift to you and Loki - two uninterrupted weeks together to just be a normal couple. You’re still not sure how you can ever thank him, not that he’ll expect you to.

It’s one of the best things about him, though you’ll never say it to his face. His ego, after all, is big enough.

“This place suits you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so relaxed.” Your lover’s voice, sweet as honey, drifts across the room. Even after three years together, it still makes tiny butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You turn to see Loki strolling easily through the wide open space of Tony’s beach house. He looks as regal and elegant as ever, even wearing a slouchy pair of grey sweatpants that sit low on his hips. You appreciate that he’s forgone a shirt, choosing instead to flaunt his chiseled chest and the faint red scratch marks still adorning it.

The patchwork of lovebites on his neck, though, isn’t so subtle. Not that you mind - you want everyone and their mother to know that this man is yours.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt so relaxed,” you reply, basking in the feel of his strong arms looping around your waist. You breathe in the scent of him, letting it wrap itself around you like a safety blanket.

It’s Loki. It’s home.

He pulls you back tighter against his bare chest, continuing to loop his arms around you in such a way that you know nothing in the world could ever hurt you, and you soon feel the gentle press of his lips in your hair. It’s these small moments - like being wrapped in his arms while the ocean twinkles happily before you - that you wish you could live in. He’s the love of your life, your best friend, and no amount of time spent with him is ever enough.

“Mmm, if your snoring is anything to go by, then I believe you,” he teases with a playful nip to the tip of your ear. “For a moment I feared my brother had followed us here.”

You grin and bump your hips back against his. “Are you trying to get pushed in the pool? Because it sounds like you’re trying to get pushed in the pool.”

His quick laughter rolls over you, rich and deep as velvet, and the sound of it still makes something warm and golden blossom in your stomach. “Your threats are truly adorable, darling,” he replies, resting his chin atop your head.

It’s only for a second because you’re quickly wrigging in his arms until you’re both face to face. Only now, you get to admire up close the love bites you covered him in the night before, and how his pale skin makes them deliciously prominent. He looks so beautiful, so damned sinful, that you’re filled with a new determination that he’ll be wearing your marks for the entire two weeks.

“What? You don’t think I could push you in that pool?” You feign offense, but the twinkle of mischief in his eyes tells you he knows you’re only starting the age old game between you both.

“Darling, do tell me,” he begins smoothly, bending easily to lock his hands behind your knees and toss you over his shoulder like you weigh less than air. “How exactly do you plan on accomplishing that from here?” He gives your ass a light slap as if to emphasise his point.

He lets his hand rest there as he carries you through the house, all the while your half hearted cries of protest melt quickly to bubbles of laughter. “You never play fair! Asshole!” you pretend to huff as he effortlessly sends the bamboo doors swinging open without so much as a touch.

It’s hotter than you anticipated outside - much hotter - and you’re quickly grateful for the coolness of Loki’s skin seeping through the thin material of your robe like a soothing balm. It’s a gratefulness that doesn’t last long - little more than a space of a heartbeat - when Loki decides to roughly pinch your ass, hard enough that your cunt clenches and you know that a bruise will be blooming beautifully there come tomorrow.

“Oh, darling, has it really taken you all this time to notice?” he teases, turning down the shaded path that winds lazily down to the pool.

Unseen by him, you roll your eyes.

With each step Loki takes, the air grows thicker with the sweet scent of vanilla and the heavy scent of the Mexican heat. The trees towering above are alive with the cheerful melodies of a choir of songbirds and, in the distance, you can hear the rush of water from the impressive waterfall that spills neverendingly into the pool. It’s so blissfully peaceful that you could easily fall asleep on Loki’s shoulder, but as the crashing of the waterfall grows closer and you realise he’s heading towards the pool, you quickly stop chattering and stiffen on his shoulder.

“Don’t you dare,” you warn him slowly, trying your best to prop yourself up on his strong back. His skin is so wonderfully cool against yours, though, that you can’t stop the quiet moan of contentment.

A large hand runs along the back of your thigh, sending a trail of goosebumps erupting along your body as how deceptively harmless it feels. “Hmm? Whatever do you mean, darling?” he replies innocently. “I only thought we could admire Stark’s pool together.”

That damn pool.

You try vainly to twist in his grip, to try and calculate just how many seconds you have before he’s tossing you into the water, but, no matter how you turn, all you can see is the sandstone tiles of the floor.

“We’ve admired this pool every night since we got here! It’s probably more familiar with your ass than I am!” you shoot back, just as Loki comes to a stop right by the edge of the pool.

He doesn’t reply, but makes a show of turning left and right, as though he’s deliberating where best to throw you in to keep himself safe from your inevitable retaliation when you resurface. You feel him adjust his arms around you, letting one snake across your bare legs as though he’s preparing to toss you in, and fresh protests spill easily from your lips in a last desperate plea.

“Loki! I mean it! Don’t you dare….!” Your voice has risen several octaves and you’re wriggling in his grip, something you know is completely pointless. If Loki wants to throw you in the pool, then you’re going to be thrown in the pool.

You feel yourself moving through the air and your arms are already flailing, bracing for contact with the clearer than crystal water. You’re even sucking in a breath and closing your eyes in preparation…

But your feet come into quick contact with the solid ground beneath you.

When your eyes snap open, Loki is grinning wickedly at you and those pretty green eyes are dancing with mischief. You swear you fall in love with him a little bit more.

“Did you really think I’d do that to you, darling?” he purrs smoothly, looping strong arms back around your waist to pull you flush against his chest.

Thankful as you are for the soothing coolness seeping off him, you answer with a soft thwack that you know barely tickles him. “Yes! Throwing someone in a pool - throwing me in a pool - is your equivalent of setting a child loose in a bouncy castle!” You try to sound stern, but he can no doubt see the grin that’s threatening to break across your face.

He’s a mischievous scamp, he’s what your grandmother would fondly call a rascal, but he can make you smile as easily as breathing. It’s one of the many, many reasons why you love him with every last fibre of your being, with your entire soul. He’s your God of Mischief and you wouldn’t have him any other way.

Loki lets his face fall, but love still shines in his eyes like a new star in the night sky. “I am wounded, darling, that you think so little of me. Perhaps I wasn’t generous enough last night?” He slides his hands down to squeeze your ass, and a new look settles across his handsome face.

Lust.

Something hot and molten lurches to life in your stomach and your core burns almost instantly at the memory of him between your thighs. His warm tongue licking and lapping for hours until you felt all but boneless against the mattress and his quiet moans as though bringing you to climax was the sole source of his pleasure.

You breathe in deeply and your fingers curl into the bare skin of Loki’s shoulder. It’s something he doesn’t miss - of course he doesn’t miss - and he squeezes your ass again, this time notably rougher.

“Mmm, that’s what I thought,” he purrs, so low and deep that you can feel it rumbling through his chest. “If those glorious little noises you made all night were an indication, you did seem quite fond of my mouth, darling.”

That sinfully talented mouth of his. Not only could it weave words so sweet that your heart filled with warmth, but it could make you see entire galaxies explode behind your eyes.

One cool hand rises to cup your cheek and you lean easily into it. Loki’s eyes are sparkling in front of you, and you know you’re looking at a man so hopelessly in love that he would burn the world to cinders if you asked. He looks so soft, so happy, and it’s only you that will ever see him this way.

It’s intoxicating.

His eyes flick to your lips and you part them almost on instinct. His hand at your waist pulls you tighter against him until you can feel his racing heartbeat thumping against yours. You wait until his lips are barely a milimetre from yours, until you can feel his warm breath fanning across your cheeks.

You wait until he leasts expect it to shove him with all your strength into the pool.

It’s the unexpectedness that makes it a success, and he falls into the water all flailing limbs and colourful curses. It’s the most undignified you’ve ever seen him and a shout of laughter rises out of you like a butterfly on the wind, even though you’ve likely signed your own death warrant.

Your heart is racing in your chest when he surfaces and you see the dangerous glint now glittering in his eyes, the one that tells you he’ll show no mercy once he gets his hands on you. Still, you can’t wipe the prideful smile from your face - it’s been months since you’ve managed to trick him.

He glides effortlessly - elegantly, even - through the water, even with the weight of his soaking sweatpants. “That was a very foolish thing to do, dove,” he warns, the deep, playful timbre of his voice making your cunt clench in anticipation of what he’s planning.

You expect him to climb out of the pool and throw you back over his shoulder. Maybe he’ll take you straight to the cabana and lay you across his knee. Or, maybe he’ll edge you senseless for a few hours before making you cum again and again and again, until you’re barely able to string two words together…

What you didn’t expect, though, was for Loki to reach and grab you easily around the knees until you’re folded over his shoulder.

“No, Loki, don’t -!” You manage to screech out between rolls of laughter before he drops you in the water without ceremony.

It washes over you, cool and refreshing against the Mexican heat, and you find you almost want to stay submerged between the twinkling surface. When you do resurface, your robe is sticking tight to your body and Loki is wearing a grin so boyish and infectious that you can’t help but return it.

You launch yourself at him across the water, aiming to knock him backwards as further retaliation, but he barely stumbles and catches you easily in his arms.

“Truly an admirable attempt, but you’ll have to try much harder than that,” he teases smoothly.

You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he only twists his arms tighter around your waist to press you firmly against his chest. “Let me go and I will,” you reply, still trying in vain to wrench yourself free.

Loki’s answering laughter is light and makes your heart skip a beat. “Darling, I have no intention of letting you go. Not when you still owe me a kiss.”

Playfully, you turn your head to the side in a refusal to meet his request. “Nope. I don’t want to kiss you,” you pretend to huff, but barely a second later a strong hand presses against your cheek to make you face him.

And then his lips are crashing against yours.

You can’t help the way your breath catches in your throat because as long you live you’ll never grow tired of how it feels to kiss him. His lips are soft as fresh snow, and they’re moving so slowly and lazily against your own that your first instinct is to try and pull him even closer, even though you’re skin on skin.

You would melt into this man if you could.

His hands wander easily to your chest to begin pushing the sopping wet material of your robe off your shoulders, and it’s impossible not to moan into his mouth when his fingers dance over your bare skin in a hungry search for more. Yours follow beneath the water, eagerly reaching for the waistband of his sweatpants only to be met with the firm muscles of his lower stomach.

You grin into the kiss. “Presumptuous,” you tease against his lips, letting your fingers trace idly along the hardened length of him beneath the water.

“Would you have turned me down, dove?” he replies, nipping gently at your lower lip while he rolls his hips into your hand.

“No,” you breathe out, twisting yourself back around him.

It’s just you and Loki - naked, and making out in Tony Stark’s swimming pool like a pair of lust fueled teenagers. It’s invigorating, it’s addictive. Nothing on earth could make you give this man up.

The easy, languid silence of your kiss is only broken by the melody of birdsong from above and the crash of the waterfall behind you. You’re so focused on Loki - how his hands feel as they explore your body like you’re a work of art and how his hair feels tangled around your fingers - that you barely notice he’s walking you both backward in the pool until you’re hit with the full force of the waterfall from above.

It only lasts for a second, but you still pull back from Loki with a screech of shock and a look of amused exasperation. “Was that…was that really -,” you begin, only to be cut off by his mouth finding yours again.

It’s only then that you realise he’s pushed you into the little alcove hidden behind the waterfall. The Mexican sun is no longer burning down on you and instead, it’s blissfully cool. It’s comfortable.

God, how you love him.

Loki’s hands are still grasping you like he fears you’ll slip away and his lips are worshipping every part of you that he can reach. He’s everywhere all at once, almost as though you’re going to be snatched from him before he has the chance to love you.

“Beautiful thing. Enchanting creature,” he murmurs, kissing his way down your neck and setting your blood on fire.

“I’m not going anywhere, you know,” you manage to force the words out while his teeth nip at your skin.

You feel the wet heat of his tongue soothing the marks he’s just made, and if it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you swear you would crumble to the floor of the pool.

“Oh, darling, I’d like to see you try,” he replies, just as your back hits the smooth wall of the alcove.

You let him press you against it until you aren’t sure where he ends and you begin. His mouth is hot and heavy and demanding against yours, and already he’s wrapped a hand around your knee to coax your leg around his waist. It’s a request you grant him easily, quickly wrapping both around him to pull him tight against you and letting your heels squeeze against the flesh of his ass.

That perfect, godly ass.

Loki moans shamelessly into your mouth as your grip makes his cock brush teasingly against you. It’s one sound that you’ll never tire of hearing - the sound of your lovers pleasure - and it sends molten heat flowing through your blood.

It’s an automatic reaction to then twist your fingers tighter in his soaking curls, anything to pull that divine sound from him once again. “God, you’re sexy when you moan.” It’s a mindless comment, but it slips from your lips before you can stop it.

Because, well, he is.

You feel Loki pull back and when you peer at him through half lidded eyes, his lips are curled in that devilishly handsome smirk that sends your heart skipping in your chest. “And what of the rest of the time? Must you keep wounding me, my darling?” he teases, all while dragging his cock torturously through your cunt.

A moan flutters from you as eager fingers grasp his broad shoulders. Wantonly, you try to spread your legs further, try to invite him in, but it’s impossible when he’s already got you spread like a sin for him.

“You know I think you’re beautiful,” you breathe out, head hitting the stone behind you as the tip of his cock brushes wondrously over your clit.

His every touch feels electric and you know he’s ruined you for anyone else. Not that there’ll ever be anyone else, of course; Loki is your missing puzzle piece and your entire heart. He’s yours for keeps.

“Oh?” he answers and latches on to the sensitive skin of your neck once more, but still not easing into you the way you’re desperate for him to. “And what else, hmm?”

You laugh softly in his ear and you swear you feel him smile against your neck. You’ll play along. If he wants praise then you’ll give it to him until your lungs give out. “You’re brave. So brave. My beautiful, brave boy,” you murmur while he continues to nip along your throat.

He pauses to press a gentle, lingering kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, only to resume his path of lovebites across your collarbone.

“You’re funny. God, you’re funny, most times without even trying.” You keep going, hearing him hum in approval against your skin.

He’s been mostly silent, but you can feel how much he loves you in every press of his lips and nip of his teeth. It’s enough to have tears prick at the backs of your eyes.

“You make me feel like I’m enough every single day,” you say in little more than a whisper. You feel his lips go still against your collarbone, and then he’s pulling back to look at you with those glittering green eyes. “You’re a good person, Loki, and you’re my best friend.”

His eyes soften at the same time the water around you ripples. He clasps your face in both hands to place a blistering kiss to your waiting lips. It’s hot and heavy and passionate, and you feel it all the way down to your toes. You’re clasping his shoulders like he’s your life raft and drinking him in like oxygen.

He’s Loki. He’s all you’ll ever need.

Slowly, he pulls back from your lips to let his nose bump against yours and you feel him roll his hips, pressing the entire hardened length of his cock against your aching cunt. “Say my name,” he says huskily. It’s both an order and a plea.

“Loki…ugh!” you groan shamelessly when the tip of his cock brushes tormentingly over your clit. Your nails are digging so hard into his shoulders that you can clearly see the tiny half moons marking his skin, but he still doesn’t give you what you crave.

“Again,” he demands, unquestionable lust now dripping from his voice.

“Loki…fuck…please!” You arch your back against the cool stone as he presses against your entrance

“Again.”

“Loki!” The third cry of his name melts to a whine when he slides himself inside you in one smooth thrust, until you’re filled to the brim with your god.

Eager muscles clench desperately around him because you’re close to drunk on the solid feel of him between your legs and impatient for the first glorious thrust of his hips. It doesn’t come, though, and instead, he rests his forehead against yours while he’s buried inside you. You can feel the impatient twitch of his cock, but still, he doesn’t move.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he says softly, voicing the same thought you’ve had about him time and time again. “My beautiful little mortal. How lucky am I to call you mine.”

His voice is sweeter than honey and sends warmth flooding through your veins, filling every inch of you with so much love for him that you fear it will spill from your pores. This beautiful, perfect man - who never stops doubting how worthy he is of your love - is everything you ever dreamed of and more.

You want to tell him, to tell him that he’s the reason you breathe and the reason your world spins, but it’s impossible to convey the depth of your feelings. “I love you.” You settle on saying. It’s soft and quiet and you know he knows, but his eyes light up each and every time you tell him, and right now they’re glittering like new stars.

Will you ever tire of how devastatingly beautiful he is?

There’s another quiet ripple of calm, turquoise water as he leans in to kiss you again, and this time it’s wondrously slow and deep. It feels like magic, like he’s pouring his entire soul into this one kiss. You loop your arms tighter around his shoulders and his hips finally begin to roll against yours as equally slow and deep as his kiss.

That’s when you realise. He isn’t going to fuck you beneath this waterfall - he’s going to make love to you.

His lips are locked with yours while he moves, each slow, deliberate thrust of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you perfectly. Your quiet whimper mixes with his deep moan, and you press the heels of your feet against his ass again, pushing him deeper still with each thrust because you can never get him close enough.

“You’re…you’re amazing, Loki,” you say stupidly when you break for air. “Completely amaz…ugh!”

Your praise melts to another moan when he buries his face in your neck, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses along your flushed skin at the same you feel his hand groping around beside you.

“Take my hand,” he breathes out roughly. It’s such an innocent request that makes your heart feel like it will burst.

What did you do so right to deserve this man?

Wordlessly, you intertwine your fingers with his, feeling him squeeze your hand as he begins to build you toward the edge. He knows your body so intimately that it doesn’t take long for the first heady ripples of pleasure to flicker in your core.

Loki rests his forehead against your temple, grunting and whimpering so beautifully in your ear that it sends an inferno burning between your thighs. Each thrust of his cock has you keening and babbling out pleas for more - and more he’s only too happy to give you.

He’s filling you so beautifully and making you dance right on the edge of pleasure that you aren’t sure how much longer you’ll last without toppling over.

Loki, though, silences your worries barely a moment later with a pornographic grunt. “I’m close…darling…’m so close,” he pleads shakily as you cradle his head against you.

“Loki…I’m - “

“Cum for me,” Loki interrupts huskily with another squeeze of your hand. “Please, darling.”

Barely a second later, your climax rips through every inch of you and Loki’s name is falling from your lips like a prayer. He freefalls at the exact moment you do, pressing you firmly against the stone while he chases every last drop of his pleasure. It’s dizzying, almost, to hear his curses, his moans, his cries of your name as his orgasm shatters him.

Even more dizzying are the sounds of his deep, heavy pants in your ear as he comes down from his high, and his chest heaves against yours while you both catch your breath. You, an insignificant little mortal, have made this god unravel like string. It makes pride bloom through you and clutch him that little bit tighter to your chest.

“I love you,” Loki murmurs quietly, his lips ghosting across your cheek in the softest of kisses. “But, darling, I simply must have you again,” he teases and easily tosses you back over his shoulder.

You can’t help but laugh as he wades through the water, not even close to tired. “Maybe in a bed this time? I think that would be nice.”

His shoulder shakes beneath you. “There are 32 rooms in Stark’s humble home. I don’t plan on leaving this island until I’ve had you in each and every one of them.”

#loki #loki smut #loki x reader #loki fanfiction

959 notes · View notes

lavender-butterfly-cookie · 1 month ago

Note

Hey I got an idea for a crk fic if you want...multiple infact but they are a little similar yet different uh I'll just share one for now...or wait I'll combine them:

This one is a self aware au. Maybe y/n plays cookie run kingdom often and the cookies want y/n to live with them so one day...they bring y/n to their world via turning them into a cookie and that's when y/n starts living amongst them...like in the castle being completely cared for lol! Like the cookies absolutely adore y/n and shower them with a lot of attention...can imagine they'd be scared at first because well...plot of cookie run kingdom is filled with danger and they just got transported into a new world they aren't used to buuuut soon y/n gets used to being absolutely spoiled by the cookies and showered with affection lol!

Y'all are gonna need to be a tad bit patient with me till the 20th cuz exams are killing me. But regardless, I shall deliver (whenever I get the opportunity)

Showered with love and affection

Where does one even begin to explain your little predicament? You're here, sitting in a fancy elegant throne, in what seems to be an even fancier and more elegant throne room, in the most fanciest and most elegant palace you've seen. You feel odd, to say the least. Not long ago had you been brought into this world by mere cookies, who also turned you into a cookie, and not even five minutes had gone by since they started showering you with gifts

Were you panicked? Yeah, at first. I mean, this world wasn't all rainbows and butterflies like these cookies made it out to be. You could probably compile a long list how dangerous the place was. Also, you're a cookie. A COOKIE. You're edible! Well-... technically humans are edible but- NO THAT'S NOT THE POINT. You wanted to go home but when you saw how happy and excited the cookies were to see you, you didn't want to disappoint them. Especially considering how much effort it must've been to simply bring you here.

So you stayed. And throughout your stay you were treated like some kind of god/goddess! I mean, gifts at all times, beautiful and comfortable living environment, amazing foods provided by the cookies, it was absolute heaven! You could get used to this. Besides, what's the rush? You could probably return home anytime

...

right?

#cr kingdom #crk #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom #cookie run #self-aware

51 notes · View notes

thehollowwriter · 1 month ago

Note

"Clearcove."

The elegant, poised, effortless first-year is once again standing before Finn, an all too familiar sight. What isn't familiar is the faint hint of abashment on Chrysos' face, stiff and awkward from critical overthinking. Goodness, you'd think he'd be used to gift-giving by now, wouldn't you?

"Happy birthday. I, ah... You'll have to forgive my being out of sorts-- here you go."

A fresh new watercolor notebook is presented to Finn, the 'cover' defaultly lined with butterflies.

"I happened to see this in my last trip to town-- Since painting is your hobby, I thought I might give this to you. Though it might vary a bit from your usual style... Of course, don't feel obliged to take it if it's a gift not to your tastes."

Ah, there goes that smooth delivery. If it weren't for his unusual wordiness, you wouldn't believe Chrysos was nervous at all. Still, in front of an upperclassman he looks up to...

-- @cpendentif

(ooc: HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY FINNNNN !!!! i would have sent this in earlier if i had ideas then and i wasn't busy but 😭WE'RE HERE NOW!!!! - kai)

Finn's amethyst eyes lit up at the sight of his favourite first year, and he smiled a little as he took the notebook in his hands and looked it over.

"Hm, this is wonderful, Chrysos, thank you." He said softly, tracing the butterflies on the cover. "They're Menelaus Blue Morphos... how wonderful."

Finn turned his gaze back to Chrysos and thought for a moment. Then, he reached up, straining so he was on the tips of his toes, and patted Chrysos' head.

"Thank you, Chrysos. I'll be keeping my butterfly notes in here. I love it."

Tagging: @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @sillyslipperybananapeel @cloudcountry

@skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123 @natsukishinomiyaswife

@authoruio @jewelulu @raguiras @honeynclove @moonyasnow

@skibidibabygirl @paperclvps @quartztwst @yuizenihaswriten @devosin

#finn is so happy #he's exploding on the inside #quinn quips #quinn answers #quinn's friends #kai #finn clearcove #finn answers #chrysos #octavinelle #twisted wonderland #twst oc #oc ask #oc interactions

15 notes · View notes

sketch-guardian · 4 months ago

Note

Mc making matching keychains/good luck charms for the RAD classmates that are of their familiars and matching keychains/good luck charms for the Angel exchange students (like sappy little hearts that magnetize together)

It seems like an adorable idea☺so I'm going to hopefully write some good headcanons and look for some references to add✨:

"RAD CLASSMATES+NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS WITH A MC MAKING MATCHING KEYCHAINS/LUCKY CHARMS (OF THEIR FAMILIARS FOR THE DEMONS AND THEMED ONES FOR THE ANGELS)"

DEMYA

Demya wouldn't know exactly the occasion for which MC would have decided to buy her a lucky charm keychain and for a few moments, she would even think that she had forgotten some of their anniversaries and would feel like a awful mate, before being reassured by MC that it was just a gift to show their affection. Demya would grin enthusiastically at the sight of the soft lucky charm keychain representing her familiar, a wolverine, squeezing it and giggling with joy as soon as she noticed MC having a an identical one, so they would match. Demya would really appreciate the present, the plush consistency and material of the keychain would be also quite stimulating for her, being able to hold onto it in stressful times to calm down, just like a lucky charm. Demya would tell many about MC's gift for a long time, nuzzling against them as she shows they match

DOMNRA/MOBIM

Domnra would not believe much in lucky charms, therefore he wouldn't consider it necessary to own one, however he would certainly not be the type of demon to refuse a considerable gift from MC, it would be ungrateful of him towards his partner. At the sight of a soft lucky charm keychain representing his familiar, a porcupine, even if fluffier in such circumstances, Domnra would shake his head at MC having a matching keychain, letting out a huff and a few amused chuckles, maybe even a snort, at least Domnra would appreciate the gesture, even if he wouldn't know how safe it would be to carry the kychain around, it might get ruined and he would want to keep it safe (MC was tempted to buy Domnra a Shadow the hedgehog's keychain as a joke, but then decided against it-). For Mobim, MC would buy a small lucky charm keychain that would remind them of the cute little curse's appearance

AZUL

Azul would love small trinkets such as keychains or lucky charms, in fact he would probably have some sort of collection among the sea of stuff in his room, including some jewels, like the ones he often wears, accessories such as earrings and necklaces. Azul would squeal at the sight of the matching lucky charm keychains in the shape of his familiar, a blue morpho butterfly, crafted by MC to share as a couple. Azul would them hold them tight in a hug, showering MC with thanks and kisses while praising their artwork. Azul would always carry the lucky charm keychain with him, showing it to everyone with a smug smirk, especially to those who would get jealous (the demon brothers-)

ZURI

MC would know that Zuri has quite refined tastes or that she appreciates simple but elegant things, therefore they would try to create something that compliments Zuri's figure and that is worthy of the demon who would bring the keychain with her, efforts that Zuri would appreciate intensely, because they would be a sign that MC cares about her and knows her well enough. Zuri, at the sight of a lucky charm keychain with the appearance of her familiar, a swan, covered in gems, would smile subtly and kiss MC on their lips, thanking them for the considerable gesture, she wouldn't even mind the ulterior motive of matching, because Zuri would know that both would look very good aesthetically, it would also be a nice memory and it's likely that in the following days Zuri will return the gift with something that MC has wanted for a long time

ODON

To Odon, MC could give a old and half frayed friendship bracelet, that the eldritch being would cherish it anyway and would keep it as safe as a treasure, for them in the end it would be one, because it was a present from MC. However, MC would think of something more elaborate and give Odon a lucky charm keychain similar to their familiars, i.e. the eye-like creatures, almost with a vintage touch to it. Odon would grin and while the eye-like creatures would be busy staring at the keychain like they were having a staring contest, the eldritch being would thank MC from the bottom of their "heart" for the gesture, pointing out that it almost resembles the pendant they sometimes wear, chuckling at the sight of MC with a identical keychain. Odon would always carry the lucky charm with them and would get quite sad if something were to happen to it

REMIEL

Remiel, apart from her robes and some ancient tomes, never received many presents, perhaps because it isn't a celestial custom to receive material gifts that could increase the risk of developing greed, so MC would be even more determined to give something to the angel of death. Remiel would tilt her head at the sight of matching lucky charm keychains representing two little spirits in love, understanding thanks to a gentle nudge from MC that it refers to her celestial duty and their relationship. Remiel would flutter her wings and her silver halo would shine slightly brighter, signs of her contentment and she would thank MC, with a soft faint smile. Remiel would take the lucky charm with her, believing that it corresponds to the human version of a blessing and would like to return MC's gesture by learning a human tradition. Mortals appreciate flowers, right? (Remiel would bring a beautiful bouquet, significant because she would even learn flower language just for that, however she would also uproot a bush, not sure a bouquet would be enough-)

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel wouldn't be used to receiving presents, so it would be a pleasant surprise to discover that MC was kind enough to think not only of him, but of a gift that would be useful for both parts of their relationship. Nathaniel, noticing the lucky charm keychain, would roll his eyes as a gentle tease at the sight of the shape of wings, recognizing it as a reference to his ones, precisely six in total. Nathaniel would pat MC's head and after thanking them with a peace sign, he would promise them that he would always carry the lucky charm keychain with him, not breaking it. In fact, Nathaniel could be often seen in class with the keychain and to anyone who would ask him questions about it, Nathaniel would simply point at MC with one finger and then make the heart sign with his hands

URIEL

The most gifts Uriel has ever received, if they can even be called presents, are modifications to her armor or personalized lessons from some general angels, so she wouldn't be used to receiving anything more sentimental. At first Uriel would be suspicious of the gift, as if she expected MC to tell her that they had messed up something or that they needed a favor, however once she was sure that it wasn't one of those cases, Uriel's eyes would widen and her wings ruffle at seeing the lucky charm keychain in the shape of a golden sword with wings. Uriel would fangirl over the keychain for a bit, before recovering, clearing her throat and thanking MC for the present, even if a warrior angel like her doesn't need luck, only skills. In any case, Uriel would always carry the lucky charm with her, smiling fleetingly when she would notice MC with a matching keychain. Uriel would kinda feel indebted to MC

23 notes · View notes

antlered-prince · 5 months ago

Note

Was looking for this ask button for so long. Now, you have wrought this on yourself, but i have had an idea for these fae, just not sure which one would appreciate the gift most, so you get to decide! I have gotten a bit gothic about it, so fair warning. Blood, Bone and Concepts crystalized ahead! Two things are given to the Gifted: A ring, a simple enough looking thing, all white with red crawling vines that curl and border a set of lapis lazuli stones, which are pressed into the ring, three on each side, while a soft but firm red leaf flower sits atop the middle, with the center being inlaid with a gem of Blue. or so it seems at first, but for those to whom the gift is intended it rings (heh) with deeper Truth. The letter included also explains it as well, written in elegant but simple script. "This ring is made of Bone, freely given and carefully crafted, molded through time and patience into a band, a circle of eternity, joined forever in a single unbreaking piece. The inside is slightly concave, with one part slightly more flexible with the right amount of pressure. Once pressed the band can slide on and off with ease, but if not, then it holds fast, a natural prevention for theft and unknowing loss of the gift. With it, you shall always know how truly I treasure your company, like the very bones in my own body, I can scarce be without it. The crawling red veins like vines creeping throughout are Blood made, warm and softly pulsing vermillion, scarlet and carmine, curling in soft twirls. They give the ring warmth, a living sensation, soft but noticeable, a constant pulsing comfort, beating to a heartbeat that may not always be near you. The veins coalesce into the firm red leaves, gently curled and firmly placed. At times, they seem to sway in an unseen breeze. They are the depth of my affection, as steady as a heartbeat and as vital as blood to life. The gem, of unknown nature and origin..is Blue. Not just a sapphire, not a blue emerald, nor is it Azurite. It is Blue, the very nature and concept of Blue as I perceive it, as colour, as a mood, as a thought and a feeling. My very idea of Blue, taken and crystallized into a single solid form, lovingly placed within the leaves. You see it shifts and flows through so many shades, every one a Blue I have experienced, and will experience, a constantly evolving and fluid Blue, from the rich shades of a flower, the light dancing off a butterflies wings, to the haunting blue of clouds in a thunderstorm at sunset, to the near endless blue of the midnight sky. This, purely so that you may see some of the world as I see it, and will continue to see it. That there may be shared understanding between us, always. This gift, freely given of myself, has only one requirement to its possession. That it is worn and cared for, that's it. Whether upon a chain, on a finger, enlarged to be a choker or minimized to be a earring, only that it is worn, and that is cared for, and enjoyed, and cherished for what it is. A gift of oneself to another, an offer for companionship, the nature of which we may decide on together. You are also free to reject this offer and this gift, with no repercussions. Freely given, with no expectation of a return gift or gesture. A simple showing of kindness and affection. I do hope you enjoy it. From, An Admirer" Welp that was a lot, I don't know where my brain went but it had a damn good time making this. I hope its not too weird of a presentation. I envision the ring is kept in a soft wooden box, smoothed and warm coloured, and rests on a bed of crushed dark grey velvet. Hope whoever receives it enjoys it! and we come to the ask Who would enjoy this gift?

I accidentally drew it, so small so it's a lil pixellated sbdbdnnd

But honestly, I don't know who wouldn't enjoy such a thoughtful gift (⁠´⁠∩⁠｡⁠•⁠ ⁠ᵕ⁠ ⁠•⁠｡⁠∩⁠`⁠)

#valrayne-faeu #answered #jackalope art #i tried to make the stones look like a sky but again. i drew. so small sjdbdjskjd

38 notes · View notes

noisycowboyglitter · 5 months ago

Text

Celebrate Your Beliefs with Bible Verse Cross Ecclesiastes Apparel and Decor

"Embracing Life's Cycles: Ecclesiastes and the Cross of Butterflies"

The powerful combination of a Bible verse from the book of Ecclesiastes and the symbolic representation of a cross adorned with butterflies creates a profound visual tapestry that speaks to the cyclical nature of human existence. This captivating imagery invites the viewer to ponder the profound wisdom and timeless truths found

Buy now:19.95$

in the ancient scriptures, while the butterflies serve as a metaphor for the transformative power of faith and the resilience of the human spirit.

The Ecclesiastes verse, "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven," resonates deeply with the eternal cycles of birth, death, and rebirth that are embodied in the butterfly's remarkable metamorphosis. The cross, a sacred symbol of ultimate sacrifice and redemption, becomes a unifying element that anchors this design in the foundational principles of Christian belief.

When these powerful symbols converge, they create a tapestry that celebrates the inherent duality of the human experience – the juxtaposition of the sacred and the natural, the temporal and the eternal, the cycles of joy and sorrow that shape our individual and collective journeys. This design invites the viewer to embrace the ebb and flow of life, trusting in the transformative power of faith to guide them through every season.

Buy now

"Embracing Life's Cycles: Ecclesiastes and the Butterfly's Transformative Journey"

The union of a Bible verse from the book of Ecclesiastes and the symbolic representation of a butterfly creates a profound visual meditation on the cyclical nature of human existence. This captivating imagery invites the viewer to ponder the timeless wisdom found in ancient scripture, while the butterfly serves as a metaphor for the transformative power of faith and the resilience of the human spirit.

The Ecclesiastes verse, "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven," resonates deeply with the eternal cycles of birth, death, and rebirth that are embodied in the butterfly's remarkable metamorphosis. This design celebrates the inherent duality of the human experience, honoring the ebb and flow of life while trusting in the guiding hand of a higher purpose.

Buy now

By weaving together these powerful symbols, this artwork encourages the viewer to embrace the inevitable changes that shape our journeys, finding solace in the timeless truths of scripture and the awe-inspiring cycles of the natural world.

"Ethereal Elegance: Butterfly-Inspired Gifts to Captivate and Delight"

Butterfly-themed presents hold a captivating allure, blending the delicate charm of nature's winged wonders with timeless sophistication. These enchanting offerings cater to those who appreciate the beauty of the natural world, becoming cherished keepsakes that infuse spaces with a sense of wonder.

Buy now

From delicate jewelry to whimsical home accents, these gifts transcend the boundaries of mere decoration, serving as touchstones that evoke cherished memories and foster a deeper connection to the fragile yet resilient cycle of life. Butterfly-inspired presents offer a unique way to honor the elegance of the natural world and the profound lessons it has to impart.

#Bible Verse Cross Ecclesiastes #Ecclesiastes Scripture Cross Art #Religious Cross with Bible Verse #Elegant Ecclesiastes Cross Design #Ecc Scripture Butterfly Art #Ecclesiastes Butterfly Design #Butterfly with Bible Verse Ecclesiastes #Inspirational Ecc Scripture Butterfly #Butterfly Presents #Butterfly-Themed Gifts #Elegant Butterfly Gift Ideas #Nature-Inspired Butterfly Gifts #Beautiful Butterfly Gifts #Unique Butterfly Presents #View all AUTISM GIFTS products: https://zizzlez.com/trending-topics/hobbies/autism-spectrum-awareness-month/#All products of the store: https://zizzlez.com/

0 notes

rriavian · 1 year ago

Text

Another mini fic for the flower prompt exchange @bobbole @windsweptinred and I are doing. It's a little rough, and I might actually add more to it before cross posting to ao3. But I think I might start writing more for this pairing because I loved this.

I hope you enjoy!

Dream and Lucienne: Clematis, evergreen, Paper Ring Wedding, Prompt if you fancy, include the words, "I know it's not much... "

It’s only when she gives Dream the ring that Lucienne realises it’s probably a stupid idea.

The very feeling of that is strange—this sudden anxiety foreign, bubbling up like butterflies in her stomach—insecurity like this not something she’s used to at all.

Lucienne is always certain, always sure; precise, methodical, should be equally meticulous even in gifting Dream this thing she feels may risk mistranslation, may reveal itself to be poorly worded. The feeling shifts when she tries to examine it, for all Lucienne is nervous it doesn't hurt, isn't truly uncomfortable, an investigation that nonetheless reveals a shyness she’d not expected to find. It’s not that she considers her offering poorly made, not that Lucienne thinks she isn't worthy.

It’s not that at all.

Just an awkwardness in allowing herself to be so easily perceived.

The band of the ring is slim, formed of interwoven strands of paper, improbable in the Waking World but more than possible here. If one looked closely enough it is possible to see words. If one was allowed close enough they could see it’s inscribed with words chosen from the books in Lucienne’s library. Dream’s gift to her, her gift to him; painstakingly written out—lines they've both enjoyed, quotes, little favourite phrases—these things she’d wanted to give to him to carry wherever he goes. Not weight. Lucienne would not add that. And it's not to lighten a load either.

Perhaps a grounding, perhaps reminding, perhaps she’d wanted to add reasons for the appearance of his smile.

Dream smiles now.

He slips the paper ring onto his finger, so careful as he settles it into place, because even in the Dreaming paper is still delicate enough to be easily torn.

Lucienne’s own ring sits gold on her finger; simplicity, elegance in the lack of intricate adornments, bland only in contrast to the crown Dream had wanted to give her alongside it. Not to buy her affections with splendor, but to forge something reflective of her worth, to smelt love into metal. Lucienne had wanted to give him something too, this exchange of rings not only a tradition to be followed, yet what could she give to him when he could make anything he desired? What unique thing could she add when Dream had made this realm, this palace, this library, all of it so achingly beautiful, so exquisite even in darkness.

Lucienne opens her mouth—

Dream anticipates.

He knows as he always knows.

“My Lucienne,” He says softly, eyes lifting from the ring as if he’d found a palace there, a sun in her. “Your love could never be inadequate; a treasure, an oath, a gift from my first raven, a tether from my wife.”

The insecurity stabilises, relief uncurling the tension from Lucienne’s shoulders, until all that's left is what inspired her need to get this right. A blossoming of affection soft and fond at hearing Dream’s solemn but earnest tone, a love so deep her shyness only rippled the surface, a feature not a detriment. There is no lie in Dream's voice. He has no need for that; if he didn’t love her he’d say so, if she didn’t love him she’d do the same. And Lucienne knows that she should not have worried, feels pleased by the reminder anyway, finds contentment in the proof of Dream’s appreciation for small things, for paper as well as gold.

“Then you like it?”

Lucienne asks despite already knowing the answer.

Dream glances back down, smiles again, soft in fascinated distraction, as if he is reading all of the words she’d written across the band of that paper ring. He is, Lucienne reminds herself, is brushing against them to feel the curve of her pen, the time she’d taken to write this ring into being, all she'd given to it.

“I will never take it off.”

“It’s settled then.” Lucienne teases. “Eternity it is.”

“Eternity.” Dream repeats; his own tease in how he plays at testing the word as if he doesn’t yet know what it means, as if it is still a new thing for this Endless being to learn.

“Did you ever think I would give you anything less?”

#dream of the endless #the sandman #lucienne #Dream/Lucienne #morphienne #flower prompts #my writing

34 notes · View notes

the-lonelybarricade · 2 years ago

Text

As the River Flows - Acotar Gift Exchange (3/8)

Summary: As Feyre lamented quietly over the misfortune of her life, there, in the marketplace, she heard a merchant instruct to its patron: Place a butterfly wing under your tongue before you sleep, and you will dream of your true love.

Or a Feysand magical regency AU. This is part three of my @acotargiftexchange for the lovely @sideralwriting. This chapter was also supposed to loosely be for the @unofficialfeysandmonth2022 wedding prompt, but the plot's moving a bit slower than anticipated.

Read on AO3・Feysand Month Masterlist・Series Masterlist

“What’s happened to your fingers?”

Feyre jolted up from where she’d been half falling asleep in her chair. Across the table, Nesta was scowling over her copy of Letters to Young Ladies on Their Entrance Into the World. Their Father and governess had insisted they each read the marriage manual cover to cover before they made their societal debut.

The sentiment of love will be found to take its colourings from the imagination of the person by whom it is cherished. Virtuous and amiable young women do not often fix their affections on base and unworthy objects; but they may, and most frequently do, fancy perfections and fine qualities in their lovers which no one else perceives, and which too frequently they do not possess.

From the way Nesta had narrowed her eyes at the bandages littered along Feyre’s fingers, it seemed that Feyre wasn’t the only one having difficulty staying engaged with the reading material.

Feyre set down the book so she could duck her hands into her lap, away from Nesta’s scrutiny. “I was sewing.”

“Oh?” Nesta thrummed her fingers against the table, assessing her coolly. “I’ve never seen you sew a thing in your freetime. I was under the impression you weren’t capable.”

Swallowing her outrage, Feyre lifted a hand from her skirt and waggled her fingers with more belligerence than was owed. “Evidently, I’m still honing the skill.”

“What were you sewing?” Nesta pressed.

“Buttons,” she said smoothly. “One of the buttons on my cloak had fallen off.”

“Odd, that you attempted to mend it yourself.”

“I mended it perfectly fine,” Feyre said, crossing her arms. “The only thing odd is your surveillance.”

Nesta shut her book. Feyre stiffened at the flame she saw burning, cold as a winter frost, in Nesta’s eyes. “You know what else is odd?” Her eldest sister raised an assessing brow. “That you’d be wearing a cloak at all, when you’ve never seen a winter chill in your life.”

Her heartbeat amplified, until Feyre could feel each pulse lodge in her throat. Nesta knew. Perhaps not the specifics, but from the way Nesta’s lips thinned into a grimace, she surely guessed that Feyre had been up to something impermissible. The three of them were all allies with each other before they were allies with their father—and if Feyre had done something she feared admitting even to Nesta and Elain, it could only truly relate to one thing.

Magic.

“Girls.” They both fell quiet at the sharp reprimand of their governess, from where she sat in the corner of the library, stiff-backed as always. Even in her leisure. “I hope your conversation isn’t distracting from your preparations for entering society.”

It was perhaps the first time Feyre had ever been relieved to be scolded by her governess. She quickly diverted her attention back to the marriage manual, ignoring the way Nesta glowered in her periphery. She could stare all she liked—it was a secret that would only ever exist between Feyre and her true love.

While the love-sick maiden avoids a clandestine engagement, and continues to employ the greater part of her time in elegant and useful occupations, there is but little danger of her sacrificing either her happiness or her duty to a hopeless passion or an impudent attachment.

Love—in the abstract, imaginative, and romantic sense of the word—is a chimerical passion of which but few young women can form any corresponding or adequate idea, and of which still fewer are in the least danger of ever experiencing…

Feyre suffered through 20 more pages which outlined precisely what a sensible woman should take into consideration when seeking matrimonial engagement. Love, apparently, took minimal precedence. It stuck with Feyre through the remainder of the day, until the sun touched the ground and she couldn't help writing out her thoughts in a letter.

My newly acquainted rake,

As the Winter Solstice draws near, my Father’s marriage preparations become more and more extreme. I’ve been made to read a host of manuals to help me achieve a successful married life with my father’s hand picked suitor. Did you know that Elizabeth Lanfear discourages seeking a love match? She asserts that ‘Love Matches, at least those which are generally so called, do not always prove the happiest’. Tell me, for I trust as my true love you will speak plainly, why in a world where finding your true love is as simple as catching a butterfly, we are discouraged from pursuing them as our match? I can understand why my father would discourage such a thing, when he has his own motives for securing me a husband. But Elizabeth’s interests claim to align with the women she advises, and she certainly doesn’t know my Father. Why would she advise against something that is so easily within reach?

It has occurred to me that your interests ought to be considered. As we may potentially be entering a courtship, your insights about my future matches are likely far from objective, regardless of my asking you to remain so. Perhaps I’m seeking your counsel, knowing you will assure me that I’m wise in sneaking behind my father’s back, breaking his strictest rule, and risking severe punishment. All to speak to someone I have been discouraged from pursuing by an alleged expert in marriage. I do not understand why everything I’ve ever been told directs me opposite to you. Why is love such a deplorable thing to desire?

I have always been one for taking risks, you see. I am not daunted by the idea of betraying my upbringing. I only wish to know if you also believe that love is, as Elizabeth puts it, “chimerical”.

Yours, despite the judgment of my Father and Elizabeth,

Feyre Archeron

Feyre. My darling, Feyre.

I admit, my opinion on the matter is swayed in knowing that you are the woman I wish to one day call my wife. Yet, I like to believe that I am a man whose heart and mind frequently agree. I can say with sincerity that in advising a woman who was not my true love nor future wife, I would be inclined to disagree with Elizabeth.

Love is not chimerical. I believe Elizabeth errs too heavily on the side of caution. You would be surprised by how easily love is given beyond the confines of your father’s manor. The greater challenge is finding love that agrees with high society’s rigid rules and harsher judgements. I’m certain Elizabeth fears that if she advises young women to pursue love above compatible means, she’ll be held responsible for all the esteemed ladies that suddenly run off with their farmboys. Love is easy to find, yes, but the circumstances for which it is encountered are not always convenient.

Regardless, I believe that when love is found—even outside of the “appropriate” societal bounds—it is worth pursuing at any cost. I hope when we eventually meet, you will find our match worth pursuing. As your husband, it would be my utmost endeavor to prove to Elizabeth that a love match can prove indisputably happy.

With my deepest affections,

Your rake

Rake,

Just as I expected, your quill is as honeyed as your tongue. Still, I agree with your observations, and I’ve always found myself exhausted by the endless restrictions of High Society. Though Elizabeth, my Father, and my eldest sister would all deem me a fool in love, I would gladly run away with you, if it came to it.

On a less romantic note, I fear I cannot continue sending these letters. Nesta suspects my bandaged fingers are the product of more than sewing and I fear that if my fingers continue to remain in this state, her investigation will transcend idle curiosity. It’s the fault of a foolish lie, since I claimed I was attempting to sew a button to my cloak. We live in perpetual spring, and to my governess’s behest, I have never taken much to sewing as a hobby.

This will be our last written correspondence before the Solstice Ball. Please, if there is anything I might use to identify you, tell me now so that I can ensure you are chosen as a potential suitor.

Foolishly yours,

Feyre

Feyre,

When we we meet, I will look into your eyes, and I will tell you that they are the most beautiful color I have ever seen.

That is how you will know it’s me.

Feyre’s true love did not visit in her dreams.

In some ways, she was relieved. The marriage manuals emphasized the importance of modesty, and Feyre didn’t trust that if her rake requested another kiss, or something more, she wouldn’t indulge him.

Still, as the days passed to weeks, she found herself thinking about him often. Imagining what he might look like. Trying to recall the sound of his voice, since it was the only thing she could use to identify him.

The longer the silence lingered between them, the feinter the memory became. Feyre became increasingly nervous that she wouldn’t be able to identify her true love at all by the time the Solstice Ball arrived. If he even came at all.

On the eve of the ball, she caved and caught another butterfly.

“Couldn’t wait to see me?” Teased a voice out of the darkness.

Feyre try to savor the sound, a sommelier searching for every hidden note.

Deep. Sensual. Decadent. Like velvet, or a rich chocolate cake.

Or a warm evening beneath a starry sky.

“Will you be there?” Feyre asked, knowing she was betraying her anxiety. She hoped he would find it flattering. And if he didn’t, well… he wasn’t the one about to be married off for the remainder of his life.

A gentle hand wrapped around the fingers she’d rested in her lap. She couldn’t fathom how he was able to find them so seamlessly in the dark. He lifted her hand into the air, laying a gentleman’s kiss against the back of her hand.

“I will be there, Feyre. I wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world.”

“What will you—”

“Go to sleep,” he chided with a soft laugh. “I’m sure your body will need the rest.”

“I am asleep,” she argued.

He lowered her hand, and she nearly jumped when his lips found her forehead next. “Happy birthday, Feyre darling. I will see you in the evening.”

“Remember Feyre—”

“Yes, yes,” she snapped, pushing away her governess’s fussing hands. “Don’t take my gloves off, I heard you the last dozen times.”

“Feyre!” She rolled her eyes at Elain’s feigned outrage. They all shared a mutual contempt for their governess, but Elain, at least, encouraged civility. Their governess bristled, brushing her hands roughly on her skirts, before she turned to fuss over the pins in Elain’s hair instead.

Fine. At least Elain enjoyed being fussed over. Feyre pulled at the hem of her gloves again. Her palms were so sweaty that the fabric was slipping more so than usual. If it were Nesta or Elain, it wouldn’t have been an issue. But Feyre’s tattoo crawled all the way to her elbow, black as spilled ink on a fresh winter’s snow.

“I told Father you needed a long sleeved dress,” Nesta complained, irritation so sharp in her voice that Feyre straightened her back.

They were perhaps all a little high strung that evening.

“The glove covers it fine, Nesta.”

Outside Nesta’s open window, they could hear the guests assembling in the garden. It was the perfect evening for a ball. A warm, cloudless night, bathed in silver moonlight that shone nearly as bright as day. The servants had strung up lanterns alone the stone path that circled their great marble fountain. It made for a pleasant area to take a breath of fresh air between the dancing that was set to take place in the ballroom.

Already, Feyre could hear the drifting sound of violins.

With a long, shaky breath, Feyre pulled the elastic of her delicate mask over her head. Next was the dance card, which Feyre had to hold out her wrist for Nesta to tie. Once Nesta was finished, she held out her wrist wordlessly for Feyre to return the favor. Except wrapping the ribbon around her sister’s wrist felt like slipping a noose around her neck. They stared at one another through masks of swirling gold and silver, words just out of reach to express the emotions they were never quite capable of sharing with one another. She squeezed Nesta’s fingers once the dance card was secure, and that said enough.

If they could depend on no one else tonight, they could depend on each other. Elain managed to escape their governess to loop her arm through Feyre’s and then Nesta’s.

“Shall we?” She asked, with none of the excitement that had been in her voice when she’d talked about this evening as a little girl. Then, their mother had been alive, and talks of suitors and romance had been exciting.

Had their father truly warped this occasion, or had the veil just been lifted from their eyes? Suddenly, Feyre felt guilty for not having encouraged her sisters to try their own hand at magic, to ensure their true loves would be here, too. She had been nervous of the repercussions, and that it was a step of defiance too far even for Nesta, but now Feyre wondered if she had doomed them by withholding this secret.

Not that there was anything she could say or do now, as the three of them descended the steps and the ballroom doors opened, enveloping them in layers of sound—the softly playing orchestra, the idle chatter of the attendees, the sound of glass flutes filled with sparkling liquid. It all quieted the moment they entered the room.

That was when their Father stepped forward from the heart of the crowd. “Ladies and gentleman, may I introduce to you all my three beautiful daughters.” They dropped arms, forcing pleasant smiles toward the curious, near predatory crowd.

“My eldest daughter, Nesta Archeron.”

Chin held high, eyes as cool and unyielding as a winter storm, Nesta curtsied to the room.

“My dearest, Elain Archeron.”

Elain smiled so brilliantly, no one would ever have believed she was standing at the front of the ballroom unwillingly. Feyre could already see the way some of the men’s eyes glazed as they watched her gracefully bow her body. All she could see was a pack of wolves eying a fawn.

Her eyes scanned the crowd. Searching for him. Surely, he would not look like a wolf.

“And my youngest. Here to celebrate her debut into society and her 21st birthday. Feyre Archeron.”

For a moment, Feyre considered standing her ground. It would be delicious to stare her father in the eyes as she refused to bow. But knowingly it would reflect poorly on her sisters, Feyre lowered her body towards the ground and spread her arms just as her governess had made them practice. Again and again and again.

“They’re all staring,” she said under her breath, trying her best not to fidget as they walked with each other through the parted crowd. Their governess said that tonight she needed to emulate perfect, poised Elain.

Feyre noted, with some measure of satisfaction, that perfect, poised Elain was looking fairly pale herself.

“Let them stare,” Nesta said. “They’re to come to us.”

Indeed, they hadn’t made it to the refreshments table before the first bachelor stepped into their path, eager eyes fixed on Elain as he bowed. “Lord Graysen,” he said. A lovely voice, but it wasn’t deep enough. Not at all like being caressed by moonlight.

Soon Elain was sequestered to the dance floor, followed by a brave, darked haired man who dared weather Nesta’s icy demeanor. Handsome, even through his mask, but there was something about the way his eyes wavered over Nesta’s body that made Feyre’s stomach drop into her chest. Lord Tomas. Not her true love.

If he was here, as he had promised Feyre he would be, she liked to believe that he would be the first to approach her. If only to ensure that he could secure a place on her dance card.

“Lady Feyre,” someone said at her back.

She turned, and was met with an exquisite golden mask embedded with emeralds and shaped like whorls of leaves. Jade green eyes shone beneath the twisted metal and his lips were curled into a friendly smile.

She hadn’t imagined the shoulder length blonde hair. But he was certainly handsome.

“Pardon me, Lord…”

“Tamlin,” he supplied with a small, charming laugh. “Duke of Carterhaugh. Please excuse my terrible manners. I was momentarily blindsided.”

His voice was… different. Deep. A bit rougher, less like velvet and more like corduroy. “Blindsided by what, your grace?”

“Your eyes,” he answered. “They’re the most beautiful color I’ve ever seen.”

For a moment, the room swam and all the sound fizzled into a muted buzz. She searched Tamlin’s face, assessing his intention. He was smiling. Smiling knowingly. And truly, what were the chances that any other suitor would be so forward. So shameless?

“That’s an awfully rakish thing to say,” she said, studying every muscle on his face.

Tamlin grinned. “Maybe so, lady.” It was him. It had to be. “But I am only speaking the truth.” Feyre might as well have been floating as he held out his hand and asked, “May I have the first dance?”

He was here. And he was a duke. Surely, her father would be ecstatic at such a match.

“Tell me more about yourself, your grace.”

“Please,” he said, his touch light as he guided her towards the dance floor. “Call me Tamlin.”

Feyre withheld a giggle. Over a month now, she’d agonized over what his name might be. Tamlin. They moved among the other couples, searching for a space in the waltz. His hand was on her forearm, so warm. This close, she could smell him, and it wasn’t quite the same as she remembered. It reminded her of opening the window after a fresh rain. What had he smelled of before? Magic is fickle, and perhaps her dream of him hadn’t been a perfect mirror to reality.

“Tell me Tamlin,” Feyre said as he drew her into his arms. “What do you think of the stars?”

He placed a hand on her shoulder blade, the other clasped hers firmly. “The stars?” He asked as he led them into the flow of dancing couples, graceful as any debutante could have hoped to find in a dance partner. “I think the stars are beautiful. Though I—”

Feyre watched those jade eyes widen. His attention snapped over her shoulder and Feyre whirled in time to watch the doors blow open on a gust of night-kissed wind. The candles nearest the entrance guttered, bathing half of the room in shadow before they flared back to life.

The crowd gasped,some even screamed, as they all scrambled to part way for a figure that strolled in on long, even steps, straightening the lapels of his black jacket as though there wasn’t a single soul watching.

Shadow leaked from him like ink in water. Magic. Magic unlike she had ever seen it. Raw. Powerful. Even across the room, she could taste it in the air.

The masked stranger angled his head, blue-black hair shifting with the movement. Candlelight glowed against his face adoringly, illuminating a pair of bright violet eyes that swept over the room and landed directly on her Father.

“Lord Archeron,” he greeted. “What a charming soiree. A shame my invitation was misplaced.”

Tamlin’s hand moved up until he was gripping her shoulder, pushing her towards the back of the crowed. “What’s going on?” She whispered to him. “Do you know who that is?”

“Prince Rhysand,” he said darkly. “From the Northern Kingdom.”

She’d heard very little of the cold, merciless North. But she’d heard enough to go stiff, watching with horror as the dark prince approached her father, walking almost past him, before he placed a hand on his shoulder and said something into his ear.

Something that made Feyre’s father stumble backward. His face had drained of all color, but she could see him fighting to maintain composure as he said, “My family is honored to have you in attendance, your highness.”

Coward. But she could forgive him for it, on this occasion.

Rhysand was picking a fleck of dust off his shoulder as he said. “I wish to dance with your loveliest daughter.”

There was a moment of silence where Feyre could feel her father panicking. Something gnarled and twisted inside of her couldn’t help revel in it. For once, he understood how it felt to have control taken from him. Her gratification faltered the minute he began stuttering, “E-Elain, darling, come dance with the Prince.”

Sweet, gentle Elain. It was no secret that she was the loveliest of the sisters. Not just in beauty, but in nature. Her heart was good, kind in a way their Father had always declared was rare.

“No that one,” Rhysand said, not even glancing in the direction from where Elain had hesitantly stepped out of the crowd.

“Nesta, then,” her Father said.

Feyre tried not to feel insulted at being declared the least lovely—it was such a vain thing to focus on. At least Nesta, with her steel heart and iron will, would be most likely to weather the conditions of the North. Should it come to that.

“No.” The Prince’s tone was almost mocking. “Not that one, either.”

“Feyre,” her father called, sweeping his eyes over the crowd in search of her.

Tamlin’s hand tightened on her shoulder, but it fell away as she stepped forward. The ballroom was so quiet, the click of her shoes resounded through the room with each step. The world’s most resentful death knell.

The prince turned, violet eyes assessing her approvingly. “Feyre Archeron,” he purred. Her cheeks burned in humiliation at the knowledge that every single person was watching, holding their breaths so they could hear each word in perfect clarity. “The rumors are true, then, that you have eyes like stars.” He leaned in close, so that the next words were but a private secret between the two of them: “They are the most beautiful color I have ever seen.”

#I WAS planning to have a wedding in this chapter #but it's going to have to wait hehe #Feysand #Feysand fic #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction #acotar gift exchange #feysand month

71 notes · View notes

edogawa-division · 3 months ago

Note

Here the special day has finally come around for the resident infamous hacker and inventor of Edogawa!

Facing an unknown box that her assistant android has just brought inside her home, it looked like the infamous ‘Arachne’ has got herself another birthday present adding to her inventory.

“Oh, this one is from Nara Division,” A.D.A. informed, “Hmm, let’s see~ The little ‘ambassador’ from that division told me that her human has found something that might suit your liking.” The elegant but mischievous twintail gave her creator and also her ‘sister’ a small smirk as she proceeded to end her sentence, beckoning the more curiosity out of the birthday girl.

Seeing no reason to dilly-dally around, Kaoru opened the box and found…

One note that contained her birthday regards from them, a pair of glowing butterfly earrings, and what?

…A literal ‘Iron Man’?

“To Kaoru Shinozaki-san,

Hello and Happy Birthday to you! Here are some regards from us, the Nara Division! Our gifts might not be much but I hope you will enjoy what we have sent for you haha.

The earrings are picked by ANGE. She said you are considered the relative of Ageha-san (Woah, I don’t know before that you two are related!), so she thought picking you something that would match nicely to Ageha-san would be great.

And the last one was from… me lol. Actually an owner of the pawnshop has given this to me as a thanks to help him do a big cleaning to his shop, but hmm… Maybe you might have a better idea at how to do with this little guy more than me (^^ ;)

Anyway, we wish you a wonderful B-day.

Best regards,

—Yuuya Kanata, Nara Division”

“How did he not know we’re “related”?” Kaoru giggled as she had the iron in her hand. She wasn't sure what she was gonna do with it yet but Kaoru would figure out something.

“You can’t entirely blame him Kaoru. At first glance, A.R.K and I don’t look related to you.” A.D.A softly spoke as she gently placed the glowing butterfly earring in Kaoru’s pierced ears. “We have blue hair and gray eyes to your lavender hair and azure eyes.”

Kaoru grew silent at that mention. Of course, she knew the real reason as to why the twins looked much different when she could’ve easily made them look like her. An attempt to undo a horrible mistake. Even now she didn't quite understand how or why they had forgiven her for that.

“You’re thinking about that again aren’t you?” A.D.A questioned her eyes softening. Seeing Kaoru not give her an answer A.D.A wrapped her arms around her creator. “You know A.R.K and I forgave you for that years ago.”

“And If I haven’t forgiven myself yet?” Kaoru murmured burying her face in A.D.A.’s shoulder.

A.D.A pulled back from the hug to look Kaoru in her eyes. “We’ll spend as long as we have to to let you know that we forgive you.”

#hypnosis microphone #hypnosis mic #hypmic #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #shinozaki kaoru #a.d.a #ageha shinozaki #yuuya kanata #ange #callmepyrus #happy birthday kaoru 2024

5 notes · View notes

sarahscribbles · 2 years ago

Note

fluff is everything, therefore:

I've been entertaining this idea for a very long time. Loki is a heavily touch deprived boy who needs all the affection in the world.

Now I desperately need a small drabble, doesn't even have to be long, of reader just...taking care of him. Calling him "angel" and watching him lose his MIND because no one's ever called him that before?? Reader making him food and looking after him when he's sick and just.....a small drabble. A cute little thing of just....Loki being loved

Because we all know the man needs it.

Anyway, mwah, hope this helps the writing juices flow :)

I hope this is what you had in mind, my darling! I know it's not the best!

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝐤

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The dull clink of ceramic on wood makes you wince and freeze almost comically in place by the side of the bed. Barely daring to breathe, your worried eyes snap towards the god currently buried between tousled viridian bedsheets.

He doesn’t stir.

You release a slow, quiet breath, relieved that Loki is still sleeping so soundly, despite his earlier protestations that he was completely fine. He’s far from fine, that you’re certain of. You’ve watched how the summer cold he’s come down with has chipped away at him over the past few days, zapping his energy quicker and more thoroughly than he’ll ever admit. He refuses to let that mask of invincibility slip for even a second.

“Gods don’t get sick, darling,” he had said, though you could see the sluggishness that had crept into his usual elegant movements, along with the deep weariness that had settled in his eyes.

One hour later you found him sleeping like the dead.

He looks so utterly at peace that your heart swells with love for him, and with the familiar realisation that he’s yours. This beautiful man who has survived tortures your mind can’t even conceive of is yours. It’s something that almost has you weep. Out of all the people on this planet - of all the beings in the entire cosmos - it’s you that gets to love him, and you’ll never take that for granted.

It’s impossible to tear your eyes off him as he sleeps. Still a villain to most of the world, yet he’s curled on his side in your bed with tousled hair and pink stained cheeks. You can see the bedsheets shifting with the steady rise and fall of his chest, as well as the way his arm is stretched out towards your side of the bed, as though, even lost to his dreams, his body still searches for yours.

The man is your entire heart and more, and it’s moments like these you wish you could bottle.

Your hand floats to his face before you can help yourself. It’s warmer than usual and still smooth beneath your gentle touch that pushes a stray curl back behind his ear. You swear you hear his breathing shift, almost like he knows you’re there.

You never tire of this - watching him sleep. To have him sleep so soundly in your presence, to have him know with such unwavering certainty that you wouldn’t dream of hurting him, feels like a blessing from the gods.

He trusts you - completely and wholeheartedly - and it’s one of the greatest gifts he could ever give you.

His hair is silken beneath your touch and errant strands wrap loosely around your fingers as you bend down to kiss his temple. It’s barely more than a butterfly kiss, but you can’t help but let your lips linger briefly against his skin. You only wish it was enough to free him from the clutches of his cold.

The backs of your fingers brush softly over his cheek and you make to leave and let him rest, but you’ve barely pulled away when he grabs your wrist in a loose grip.

“Stay,” Loki says, his voice groggy and congested. “Please.”

His eyes are flickering open, but it’s clear that he’s still wading through sleep. He looks so vulnerable and exhausted and sick that suddenly any plans you had for the rest of the day are unimportant. You can’t deny this man anything.

Easily, you climb into the bed beside him, resting your back against the headboard and opening your arms to him. “Come here, my love,” you tell him gently.

He wastes no time in shifting beneath the sheets until his legs are tangled with yours and his head is resting heavily on your stomach. He grips you like he’s been starved of your touch, like you’re the one thing tying him to Earth. You can feel the unspoken plea in the way he’s holding you, the “please don’t leave me” that’s burning into your skin.

You hope he knows that wild horses couldn’t drag you away from him.

Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, you stretch down to kiss the top of his head and intertwine your fingers with his. His hand locks around yours greedily, as though he can’t get enough of your touch.

It’s fine with you, though, because you can never get enough of him.

You begin to stroke his hair, so softly that you’re barely even touching him, but you can still hear his soft sigh of contentment. “Feeling better?” you ask softly, running your thumb along his knuckles.

“No,” he croaks, attempting to twist himself tighter around you. “I fear this may be something worse than one of your silly Midgardian maladies.”

You can’t help but smile. Your drama queen of a god is still in there. “Hmm, I think you might be right. I should probably let Tony know I’ll be out for the next few days to take care of you. I can’t risk my beautiful boy succumbing to a dangerous alien bug.”

Loki doesn’t move, but you can almost feel the smile that mirrors your own growing across his face. “You can’t,” he murmurs, his voice slightly muffled by how far he’s nuzzled into your stomach.

He lapses into silence and you take the opportunity to pull him closer. He’s solid in your arms - solid and alive and everything you never knew you were looking for. He’s your sun and your moon and all your stars, and you can’t imagine your life without him.

Wordlessly, you stretch to place another kiss to his head, not missing how he hums at your touch. “I adore you, you beautiful man. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He pulls your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles in reply. It’s so soft and so innocent that you’re struck again by how you would burn down worlds for him.

Not five minutes later, his breathing turns even and heavy. He’s fast asleep, head still resting on your stomach and hand still gripping yours.

#loki #loki fluff #loki x reader #loki fanfiction

1K notes · View notes