#and him singing with rae

[rima-niki]

I love Fable so much, he him, I love him, he could do wrong but he still cares about his kids!!

He's dad but king but also God but he's also so dad. And I love him for that.

he, just he.

the hug with rae just adds to this.

Him with Icarus adds to this.

Even if he's not being the best influence on Sherbert he's still so dad

[britishchick09]

i synced rock-afire footage from jacksonville to the original country II showtape! :D

[bardyen]

Modern AU Geralt wants to support Jaskier's music career but the CD player in his truck doesn't work so he really only uses the radio and the tape deck but he refuses to listen to top 40 stations because Ciri gets the songs stuck in her head and makes that Geralt's problem. So Jaskier has to load up all of his songs onto a smartphone he bought at Walmart and get Geralt one of those stupid cassette tapes that plugs into the phone so Geralt can listen to his songs when he drives Ciri to school. He also loads some songs Geralt will actually like on there (tragically Geralt is really into Country Songs About Horses and like, The News)

[fucklestat]

louis, mon cheri, share avec moi these airpods….. i have discovered a most captivating songstresse, a mademoiselle Carly Rae Jepsènne. écoute….. does not this saxophonne bewitch you? truly she is the donizetti of her time. and this next song, oooh my leuouis….. the poetry of this lyric….. before miss jepsènne’s beloved came into her life, she missed him so bad. it seems to me she sings of our invisible cord, non?

[pearlywritings]

Remarkable comparisons

synopsis: you just never seize to surprise him - your words make his heart flutter as you find the new ways to admire the parts of him.

prompt: 20

requested by: my dearest @lunargrapejuice

pairing: Diluc, Kaveh, Neuvillette x fem!reader

tw: fluff, established relationship, Diluc has thick eyebrows (because I love Rae's (@bobaboob) design of him), tiny mention of injury in Kaveh's

word count: 2.3k+ words in total

a/n: check my Token of appreciation writing event!

Diluc

“Congratulations, Kaeya,” you smile, saluting the Cavalry Captain with your drink. “Maybe this is a sign and you should really start dating someone.”

“One letter with a confession is all it took you to give me this piece of advice? Why, I am very honored to receive one,” the man teases, cheek supported by a hand and the fingers of the other drumming against the bar counter as he’s waiting for his own treat for tonight. “Not to mention, you getting together with Diluc in the past didn’t really solve the exactly same problem, am I correct?”

There is a grumbling sound coming from the bartender’s throat, and you snicker, knowing that the redhead is certainly rolling his eyes.

“Careful, Kaeya, or you might get your drink dumped into the sink.”

“Surely my brother wouldn’t do something like that to me,” your friend decides to pay your words no mind, turning to look at your husband instead, “right, ‘luc?”

“Oh, I actually might.”

“Ouch, you wound me.”

Diluc gives him a half-hearted glare, and you shake your head, too used to their quarrels over nothing. Tuning out their voices, you close your eyes and try to relax, enjoying your favorite beverage - always courtesy of your beloved - and humming the melody the bard is singing further into the room. The evening can be called unwinding, and if it continues to be so, it won’t be a hard task to wait Diluc’s shift to be over, to help him close the tavern and make your way home.

“Hey, hey, Y/n,” but of course Kaeya has to disturb your just established peace and quiet, and when you open your eyes again, there is already a full glass in his left hand. Looks like the tavern owner was convinced not to throw it away as he threatened to do.

“What is it, Alberich?”

“You decided to hurt me too,” he gasps painfully, clutching his chest and mimicking the face of a kicked puppy. “My favorite sister-in-law is bullying me with my last name.”

“I am your only sister-in-law. I get the privilege.”

It doesn’t escape you how Diluc snorts at your answer. Kaeya only grimaces.

“We’ll come back to it later. Now I am more curious, how did you handle all those love letters my brother received? I don’t believe you’ve ever told me.”

“I probably didn’t,” you agree, putting your empty glass down, only for it to end up in the redhead’s hands a minute later. “But that was fun.”

“...fun?”

“Yeah, fun. Ever since Diluc started courting me and I returned his affections, he’d come to me with every letter - sometimes with a whole pile of them - and we would sit down and read them together.”

The star-shaped pupil darts to the unfazed man and meets with the gaze of crimson eyes - it is as if he knew that his brother would question his reaction.

“I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea,” he states while pouring you another drink. “Just throwing or burning the letters without any prior explanation could leave some trace behind and cause misunderstanding, so I decided to tell her of the very first one I got when in a relationship with her. She found it so entertaining that ever since she demanded to read every single one of those.”

“You can call it my own research on the creativity of his suitors’ compliments,” you grin, thanking your lover for the new drink, leaning up to plant a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve counted around 120 comparisons of his eyes or hair to anything related to fire, a little bit more than 60 saying of his wisdom and owlishness, something like 46 cases of titling him a ‘prince’... But there were original ones too - ‘locks like waterfall of Fontaine’, ‘the dark master of my dreams’, ‘the perfect father for my children’”, Kaeya chokes, while you simply shrug your shoulders. “Yeah… I have a whole list somewhere actually. I can show you later, just remind me the next time you visit the winery.”

“You are the menace, my dear. Diluc, I can’t believe that after all those…fluttering words you were blushing over that compliment your now wife gave you about your eyebrows!”

“I mean,” Diluc clears his throat, furrowing the aforementioned brows, “They’ve just grown back after that accident with my vision…”

“And I jumped on him, kissing all over those beautiful thick bushy lines atop his mesmerizing eyes. I really missed them,” you sigh dreamily and the Cavalry Captain isn’t sure if you are serious or exasperated.

“It… it was the first time I'd heard them described that way. Or mentioned at all,” Almost unconsciously your husband reaches to move the fluffy fringe to the side. You can’t help but raise your hand and smooth the thumb over his eyebrow. Archons, your man is handsome.

“It was the first time I used such words too. I tried to be romantic. And creative. Creatively romantic.”

“I guess it worked…” Kaeya mumbles averting his eyes from the display unfurling before him. Maybe staying single wasn’t so bad.

Kaveh

“My love, you should be more careful with them, you know?” Softly caressing the bandaged knuckles with your thumb, you scoot even closer to your sulking husband. Your shoulder is immediately occupied with his golden-copper head, cheek flush to your bare skin and you can only assume that he is staring at the lock of your hands.

“Of course I know,” he sighs, turning his palm up and gently grabbing your fingers to draw the back of your hand to his lips. “My hands are basically the source of my income. But accidents happen at the construction site. It’s just that this time I am the one who ended up hurt. Thank the Dendro Archon no one else was affected.”

You want to scold him for being so dismissive of his own health, you want to scold him for not treating the injury well enough right away and jumping back into work again, you want to scold him for diminishing the role of his hands - his own role - to a simple instrument of making mora.

But you almost instantly push those thoughts away - after all, Kaveh knows all these things very well, and you are not about to ruin his mood even more.

“I hope they’ll heal soon,” you offer instead, turning your head and kissing the top of his. “Your hands are very important!”

“They are?” The blonde finally looks at you and there is an unmasked interest in them. “You mean, more than for drawing blueprints?”

“So much more! No other hand can hold mine. No other fingers can push a strand off of my face when the wind is too playful. No other palm is as perfect as yours to plant kisses upon. No wrists can compare to the work of art that yours are - also perfect for kisses.”

“I don’t know, birdie,” you are so beautiful in your pretense of playful hesitation, gleaming eyes averted and lips pursed. “What if this emotion doesn’t suit me so well?”

“But my muse,” the corners of his lips tug in a smile, akin to a shy morning sun, “all these things and so much more I can still do even with my hands bandaged.”

“I know, Kaveh, I know. But, there is something else, and, quite honestly, I might get shy if I say that outloud.”

“Oh?” Yes, that Kaveh-like lilt is back in his enchanting voice, and now he is sitting with a straighter back, half-turning to face you, but keeping your hands together on your knee. “Now I really want to know.” 

“Come on, tell me~” And he is pushing his forehead against yours, gently butting, eyes full of determination staring in yours. “I wanna know what else my sweet loving wife thinks of my hands~ Or I might just attack you with kisses!”

“Wait, I joked-” and you erupt in giggles, when the architect surges forward to shower your smiling face with pecks big and small.

“...and what if I want it?”

“Then you shall receive.”

“Alright, alright! I surrender! I see your hands as the creators of our future home!”

The attacks abruptly stop. The pretty pink padparadscha eyes blink a few times, mind processing the words of your sacred confession. And while he is at it, you decide to elaborate.

“I adore the place we are currently renting. But I hope that one day we’ll build our own house - based off your blueprints, based off your vision of our home, cozy and full of light. So,” you reach your free hand to take his second one to lovingly hold them in your grasp, “for me your hands are also the creators of our future home, if you ever wish to share my idea.”

“I… Wow, Y/n, you caught me off guard,” the gaze full of wonder falls to his hands, currently wrapped in white bandages and looking imperfect in his own eyes. “It… it's the first time I've heard them described that way.”

“It's the first time I used such words too, my dear husband.”

You want to protest when his palms slide out of yours, but as they cup your cheeks and draw your lips to his - you eagerly close the distance, putting your hands on top of his.

Something tells you that Kaveh very much shares your idea.

Neuvillette

Your lover’s shrewdness has always been a well-known fact, an unprovable wrong at that. But even he at times could get stuck on a tangled case, especially in a moment of lacking some crucial details - though the public is never aware of it, because when the Iudex of Fontaine takes his rightful place in the courtroom there is no doubt that he knows more than enough to start the trial.

Only you and the melusines have ever witnessed him in a state of stalling as he is analyzing the information he has again and again until the missing piece is discovered. Today is exactly one of these days. No trials are scheduled for the day, so Neuvillette can dedicate his full attention to looking over the cases he will be taking care of tomorrow. Admittedly he never feels annoyed or discouraged when his thoughts reach a deadend, but having you in the same room always brings him comfort even though it was unnecessary in the first place.

You came earlier in the afternoon and brought him lunch, knowing that he’d barricade himself in the office till the late hours of the evening, and decided to stay, promising to handle any issue his subordinates could end up visiting his office with. The man has his full trust in you and your abilities to take care of the administrative part of his job - you’ve spent many decades by his side and involved in his field of work and possessed much empathy towards humans.

Same empathy you hold for him. It’s clear to you, as his beloved, his mate, that your partner needs a break. It’s been some hours since lunch and the desk in front of him has been getting crammed with more and more thick folios. If Neuvillette was a mek, there would be gears turning into his head intensively.

Oh!

Suddenly an idea pops into your head.

Putting away the reports Sedene delivered half an hour ago, you quietly rise from your spot on the plush sofa. The carpet muffles your steps as you move closer to the desk and round it, stopping right by the chair, putting your hand on its back. Your lover doesn’t even lift his head, too used to your presence, never questioning your actions. You admire the parts of him that are in your sight - his long, silky hair, thrown over the left armrest - a habit he developed, too tired to sit onto his own locks; then there is some of the skin of his neck is opened, transforming into the sharp jawline which you suddenly have desire to kiss; the broad shoulders that look even wider because of his coat and you put your free hand on his elbow, bending down.

And then there is his ear - pointy and delicate, it becomes the center of your plan.

Neuvillette’s whole frame shudders when you hum against the shell of it and then press the side of your head to his. It takes a moment to realize that it’s your ears that are touching and you lean into him even further, finally breaking his focus, eliciting a confused sigh out of him.

“Beloved? What’s wrong?”

“Mmm, absolutely nothing, darling,” you hum again, yet do not move anywhere from your spot. “It’s just your thoughts were running so fast in your head that I thought I was hearing the crashing of the waves.”

“...pardon me?” Now the confusion is in his voice too and you draw your face away to look at him with a glint of amusement in your visage.

“Well, you know, they say ‘a shell of an ear’. And if you press your ear to a seashell you’ll hear the sounds of a distant ocean. Come to think of it,” your finger touches the pointy edge and travels the length of it, sending another shiver - this time a pleasant one - down the man’s spine, “your ears look like the prettiest shells.”

When your digit stops its ministration it’s his own gloved hand that reaches up to touch the place you’ve just been tracing.

“It… it's the first time I've heard them described that way,” his voice is soft, inhuman eyes closing as a tender smile graces his lips.

“Well… It's the first time I used such words too, my love. I am glad the comparison is to your taste.”

“It is indeed,” the chair is pushed away and in a moment your lover is standing, fondly looking at you and offering his hand. “How do you feel about a walk at the shore?”

“Wow, if complimenting you will always result in taking a break from work I should start making more of those,” you can’t help but tease, eagerly taking his hand though. “I feel positively about it. Let’s go.”

[raayllum]

cause they couldn't have Rayla sing an actual lullaby this season and not expect this

Callum smiles before he even reaches the doorway, the soft lilt literal music to his ears as he climbs the stairs, and Rayla's voice grows clearer as he approaches.

"—I am near, my love is here—"

The nursery door is ajar, the real proof of how safe and secure they are here in their little cottage, and Callum nudges it open just a bit further. Their little Rae can be fussy sometimes, but he watches his son sleepily yawn and nestle against Rayla's breast, her nightgown pulled back up as she rocks him.

"Went down easy tonight?" Callum murmurs, slipping in.

Rayla doesn't jump, never one to be snuck up on. She settles into his arms instead looped around her filled out waist, easing up his hold a little so she can lower their just-about-a-toddler into his crib. Rae stirs, tiny horns poking out of white hair, but his bright green eyes don't crack open, so it seems he'll stay asleep for the meantime.

"You know he gets his lungs from you," Rayla says, eyes narrowed as she turns to face her husband instead, but she's smiling too much.

Callum knits his fingers together at the small of her back. "You love me. Us," he retorts confidently.

Her hand cups his jaw, eyes softening. Her other hand drifts to his heart, where it beats for her—for their family. "I do," she hums.

Her kisses feel like music too.

[coralinnii]

Hi there! I have been a huge fan of your work for a while now so i hope you like this request.

Can i request the Savanaclaw characters + Rook with a s/o who likes to sing under their breath whenever they were bored

Again love your work! Hope you have a great day/night!

❋ Whispering like a siren ❋

↳ Reader S/O who sings under their breath

feat: Leona ⭑ Jack ⭑ Ruggie ⭑ Rook

genre: fluff

note: no pronouns used with the reader, established relationships, nicknames are used for reader (songbird in Leona’s section),

Thank you for your kind words! Being someone with this habit, I relate to this so much. The amount of times I got caught too 😳

Song recommendations (songs I listened to as I wrote these):

If you love me for me - Barbie’s Princess and the Pauper soundtrack (Leona’s section), I love you too much - Book of Life soundtrack (Jack’s section), Call me maybe - Carly Rae Jepsen (Ruggie’s section), Dancing without music - BRDGS (Rook’s section)

A similar prompt: singing a break up song while dating him

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

Despite Leona’s loafish demeanour, he’s quick to pick things up and keeps track of his surroundings. His senses are the sharpest amongst the beastmen in the campus, so nothing escapes his ears.

Thus, he was aware of your habit as you were humming while you tended to your botany project in the greenhouse. He assumed you weren’t aware of his presence as you swayed to the tune in your head.

When he noticed your little tendency, the beastman was amused. To him, it was like watching a naive little birdie sing, oblivious to a beast sleeping nearby.

Leona got to see more of this side of you when the two of you started dating. Whether it was due to embarrassment or perhaps as to not disturb him, you kept your singing habit around him only when Leona was sound asleep.

But Leona would wake up to the soft sounds of your voice, lost in your thoughts as your fingers gently combed through his brown locks. He would hear you whispering sappy lyrics while he teeters between consciousness. He contemplated on not telling you he was already awake, rather he waited for you to realize. He found amusement in your startled expression when you do notice. If you ask him why he didn’t tell you he was already awake, he’ll reply with a haughty smirk,

“I couldn’t possibly stop you, not when you seemed to be enjoying yourself so much.”

The stubborn housewarden will keep this secret, but he feels a lot less irritable when he wakes up to your voice, and more irritable when he doesn’t. But when Ruggie pointed it out, Leona ignored the hyena beastman’s observation. It’s not like Leona owes him an explanation, and Ruggie definitely doesn’t need to know about your cute habit.

Leona doesn’t care what song you would sing, your little quirk became his favourite thing to wake up to. It could be a sappy love song or a sad ballad, it doesn’t matter as you already tamed the prideful lion.

“Aw, you’re embarrassed I caught you singing? Don’t worry, songbird. It’s just us, so keep going.”

Like many beastmen, Jack has a keen sense of hearing. His ears notice the smallest things, aware and ready for anything. The tall freshman caught on early to your penchant for singing when bored.

Before the two of you started your relationship, Jack’s ears would perk up to even the softest pitches of your voice, but acted ignorant if you sensed an audience (aka him).

As the two of you began your courtship with him. Jack is still quick to register your voice during his shared moments with you, like when he was studying with you in the library. In the quiet environment, Jack was extremely aware of the softest of noises, especially from his study partner.

You were whispering the lyrics of a familiar song, and Jack realized it was a song from a show that the two of you were watching together. It was a catchy tune that you had already started singing since you first heard it.

The earworm of a song was apparently back as you were absentmindedly humming the melody of the song, lost in your own world. You didn’t even realize that your partner was watching your little performance.

Jack really tried to mind his own business, to get back to his studies. But, the way you would bop your head to the beat, your soothing voice that sounded so beautiful despite being so soft. He didn’t have a bad opinion of the song itself, he thought it was a good song but nothing that he would suddenly recall. But the way you sang it? He became a lovestruck puppy all over again, a fool to your raspy tones as you whisper under your breath.

“Jack?”

That same soft voice that enthralled the snow-haired man snapped him out of his trace. Your eyes locked with his own as you asked if he could help with a particularly tricky assignment, reminding him where he was.

Jack would nonchalantly hide the burn in his cheeks behind his large hands, but you can’t imagine the amount of sheer will Jack needed to stop his excited tail from sweeping the floor of the library.

“You must really like that song, judging by how much you keep singing…not that I was always listening to you! I just…noticed, it’s all.”

Ruggie was quick to notice your little quirk, and was even quicker to tease you about it. He walked in when you were singing your boredom away as you tediously washed dishes in the kitchens during a shared shift at Mostro Lounge. You could hear his signature chuckle as you turned to see the amused hyena beastman relaxing, as he watched you sing without your knowledge.

To be clear, he’s not laughing because of your singing skills or anything of the sort. He just can’t help this bubbly sense of happiness within him whenever he watches you as you whisper the lyrics of a catchy tune. If you start to really get into it, Ruggie just can’t stop the smile on his face as you begin to bop to the melody.

It soon became one of his favourite parts of the day to catch your little performances.

Ruggie loves it when he zeroes in on your voice, the hustle and bustle of the world goes away as all of his attention goes straight to you. The stress of work melts away whenever he watches that even in boredom, the light in your eyes shines as you reach to your favourite part of your song.

Ruggie especially loves when he could surprise you when you get into this kind of mood, when you get so lost in your world that you get so startled when you become face-to-face to your sneaky boyfriend.

You could be the type to push Ruggie away out of embarrassment, or you’re the type to laugh after being caught even when you tried to keep your singing session to yourself. When the two of you began to date (and even before then), these small joys became truly a precious sight for the shaggy-haired sophomore.

“Anyone tell you that you got a voice for showbiz?… What? I’m not tryin’ to schmooze you, I’m serious! You sound… real amazing.”

This quirk of yours may even be one of the reasons that had Rook smitten with you in the first place.

You were standing in the courtyard, by the well-known wishing well. Epel mentioned this well to you, mentioning how the ambiance of the echoing waters is particularly soothing.

Out of curiosity and a little bored, you tested the echoing of the wells. The verberating sounds felt so relaxing that you continued to sing under your breath as to avoid attention. However, you already garnered the attention of a certain Pomefiore junior who was situated in the trees nearby.

Rook was already curious and a little amused watching you play around with the echoes of the well. You reminded him of an old tale Vil mentioned from his homeland, how a beautiful woman caught the attention of a passing prince when singing into a well.

When he heard your whisper-like humming, Rook felt a camaraderie with that prince as the feathered-hat student was captured by your performance. Though your voice was as soft as a whisper of the wind, his sharp ears were immediately entranced.

Rook was charmed like never before. He had sang praises for countless professionals that trained to be at their level of perfection, but yours was like no other. Yours felt more personal and intimate. He couldn’t bear to leave, he was spellbound to keep listening. If you let him, he would write poems based on the feeling of love he felt from your voice.

This does not change when you two start dating, Rook’s just a little less subtle about his admiration. Everytime you would snap out from your singing daze, your eyes will lock gazes with a pair of fond green eyes and a look of infatuation, before a slew of poem-worthy adulation is poor from this foolish man.

“Mon amour, you were singing so beautifully again! I could spend the rest of my days enchanted by your dulcet tone.”

[lemonskinktober]

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 > this one’s defo my fav (so far) 😍 and i don’t even like scara that much!! (anymore) also not proofread!! :(

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 > smut w afab! reader, degradation, and sensitive-ish things, non con (ew)

it was quite obvious that scaramouche despised you.

he hated the way you spoke, the way you always smiled so kindly… it was oh so annoying.

and today, today especially… you were being quite the bother.

***

“venti!” you call out to one to the boy who was holding your notes in the air.

“stop that!” you whined, earning a chuckle from him.

“oh fineee..” he said, handing you back your notes.

“hmph.” you pouted, cheeks flushing.

scaramouche just watched intently from his desk.

why would you even get so… close to venti? he wasn’t anything special, was he?

i mean sure he could sing but… did he really have any other traits that could make your blush so… cutely?

he scoffed.

why should he care? he doesn’t care about useless items like you…

***

you were hanging out with stupid venti again, working on some sort of project before excusing yourself to go to the bathroom.

“tch…” scaramouche’s eyes narrowed.

“something bothering you…?” his partner, xiao, asked quietly.

“i have to use the restroom… give me a moment.” he said coldly, getting up from his seat and stomping over to the bathroom.

you were inside, washing your hands in the sink before the door burst open.

“what’s wrong with—?! scaramouche…?” you raised an eyebrow at him, why was he here?

“hmph…” scaramouche began to approach you, his hand gripping onto your shoulder.

“get your ass back in that stall…” he whispered in your ear before shoving you back into the stall and locking it.

“do you know how much you irritate me?” he asked, his hands ripping off your pants/skirt.

“what… scaramouche what are you-”

“shut up.” he cut you off, taking off his own pants as well.

“or do i have to make shut up myself?” he asked, his hands trailing up and down his cock.

“you… i-”

before you could say anything more he plunged his erected member into your pretty little mouth.

“cant… speak now can you?” he said with a smirk, groaning.

“oh fuck… keep using that pretty little mouth of yours.” he said, his hands wrapping around your neck.

“you know… i tolerate you a lot more when you don’t speak — in fact you should just stop speaking at all.” he murmured, thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth.

“especially to that venti… i mean what’s so special about about him?”

you let out a muffled cry against his cock, tears bubbling up in your eyes.

“yeah..? trying to say something, slut?”

“mmh!” more tears streamed down your pretty face…

and scaramouche completely indulged in them.

“keep crying… yes cry for me whore.” he said, a maniacal lust in his eyes.

you let out another cry, making him groan.

“you want me to cum inside, y-yeah… that’s what you want.” he whimpered, his thrusts becoming faster.

you were still trying to fight back, however… he really did have a firm hold on your neck, leaving powerless against him.

“ah-” he let out a melodic moan before thick ropes of his cum bursted in your mouth.

“mmph…” your eyes fluttered shut as he finally pulled out of you.

“not a word about this, okay?” he asked, holding you by the chin.

“o-okay…”

he grinned, flicking at your forehead.

“your my little toy now.”

tag list > @izzalovesdilfs , @dainslief-when-playable

special tag list > @zxdksimpo , @seph-rae

all work belongs to pri, please do not steal!!

[jadeylove]

redoing this because of listening more intently to epic the musical and realizing centross is literally Odysseus.

songs i believe fit fable characters:

Just A Man - Centross singing about Oscar

Warrior Of The Mind - Enderian singing about and then to Centross

Survive - The server at the end of season 1

Remember Them - Rae singing about who they lost to Omnious Bane

My Goodbye - Enderian to Centross in the beginning of season 2

Luck Runs Out - Rae talking to Centros during season 2

Ruthlessness - Ocie yelling at Centross after learning he killed Chaos

Wouldn't You Like - Fable trying to convince the whole server to let him out of purgatory

Done For - Centross and Perix as Enderian

There Are Other Ways - ...still Centross and Perix as Enderian

No Longer You - still Haley talking to Icarus about the server

Monster - Icarus and Centross singing together(yes ik it's only one person actually singing the song SHUT UP.)

Suffering - Centross singing to "Ocie"

Different Beast - Centross singing to Geist

Scylla - Just everyone singing about Perix

Legendary - ignoring Ocie's epilouge a little bit, if Centross never was near Oscar once he was Violet, this song would be Oscar singing about Centross from Ocie's stories

Love In Paradise - Perix trying to convince Centross to love her but transforming into whoever he wants(May it be Icarus, Wolf, or Ocie) but him still prevailing

@cryptid-central

[moocfitab]

Veah and Cari head canons :]

- when they're old enough to use elytra, Cari and Caspian fly around the Grove with the wind,

- Veah ends up being really protective of Cari after they're born, to the point where if Cari has a nightmare, or cries in the middle of the night, She's running to their crib before Rae or Caspian.

- Rae taught Veah how to hold Cari,

- When they were both babies, Rae would hold Veah and Cari in his arms and carefully dancing around the room singing to them.

- Rae taught Caspian the lullaby Isla used to sing to him, and one night Rae woke up to Caspian holding Cari against his chest and quietly singing to them. (And yes- Rae got up and sang along before the three of them fell back asleep)

- Veah taught Cari the Happy Hare dance- Who then taught Rae, Caspian, Aax and Fenris

- Cari sees Aax as another parent figure, usually using the term "Par" to refer to her. They picked this up from Oscar and Len

- Despite being the quiet one, Cari is a chatterbox with whoever they're most comfortable with. This has ended up with Rae and Cari having a full blown conversation about a random subject, then Ulysses or someone else walks into the room, and Cari stops talking, and ends up whispering in Rae's ear if they have a question. (What no I'm not projecting from when I was a kid nooooo)

- Ocie babysat Veah and Cari *once* (she taught them how to cuss, so when The Dads™ came home, Veah looked at Fenris and said "Aunty Kai taught us the word Shit!!"

- Cari watched Rae sew, embroidered and knit clothes, in a very similar way to how Rae watched Isla teach herself.

- When Veah first saw Cari asleep in their crib, she reached in and gently put her hand on their head

- Athena and Bruin taught Veah and Cari how to make flower crowns, Veah always wears Lilacs while Cari wears Dandelions.

Listen I keep having so many thoughts and feelings about these blorbos children- I luv them sm

[channelinglament]

Is it okay if I send this idea. Imagine yandere hsr hearing you singing love songs. Imagine you singing a song like call me maybe. The characters would think you are asking them for their number.

AHAHAHHAH THIS IS GOLD✨️✨️

Since no one specified characters, I'll chose randomly (I actually started spinning the wheel in google lmao-)

- this is a reaction, not a drabble like I attempted ;w;

@2broschlininahotub

Trailblazer(Caelus and Stelle)

(You can think of one or both, I referred as they/them because I wanted you to pick the one you're comfortable with, or both if u want to. I mean, they're the same person-...but I can't help but think of them as twins lmaooo)

╱|、

(˚ˎ 。7

|、˜〵

じしˍ,)ノ

^ this is them.

"Did our Aeon just started singing??"

- they would just stand there and listen

- until they understand this is a romance

- Are you proposing your love for them?🥹

..You're asking for their number?

...💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥 (this is Welt's credit card)

- You can get not only their number, but their(Welt's) money aswell!

- Also wdym by "You just met them"..?

- If they somehow manage to hack your phone (50/50 chance) then they'll 100% call you

...10000% call you if they manage actually..

They will not leave you alone afterwards tho..

You love them right?

Dan Heng

- ...

- * blushes and looks away *

- ૮ ˶ᵔ . ᵔ˶ ა

- Would definitely find a way to hack your phone and get your number. Though, probably, by this moment, you'll be at Herta's space station.

- would not question why did you start singing. Actually would ask you to sing more, he absolutely loves it.

..just don't sing it nearby others..

-2/10 would not recommend. Sing only to him. At least only romance songs (or around the trio)

March 7th

- Uwah!♡

- This is so cute!

- Ofcourse you can have her number!

- Would you like to take pictures with her?

- Maybe a date even?????

- *Furiously writes in her diary several pages about your "confession" for her*

/ᐢ⑅ᐢ\ ♡ ₊˚

꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ ♡‧₊˚ ♡

./づ~ :¨·.·¨: ₊˚

`·..·‘ ₊˚ ♡

Please sing it only to her.. just in general

She loves your voice, but

She can't chose, if she wants everyone to hear you, or if your voice should be only to her (or trio)

Silver Wolf

(Yes 2 gifs)

This two gifs is literally what she is doing after hearing what you just sang (while you're still singing-)

- Hacks your phone, takes your number and adds her.

- Even tho Herta froze her game accs...is willing to work with her and that robo-guy to bring you here.

- Doesn't wanna share with Herta and others..so would steal you afterwards

- Say hello to life with Kafka and Blade

- Until others find you..

Gepard

- *Blushing intensifies*

- He would turn into tomato

- His face would be redder than Riddle Rosehearts's hair

- Stutters

- Malfunctions

- But happy

- When you're here, would take you on a date. And give you his number almost immediately.

- Sadly cannot do anything before Herta, SW, Welt and others bring you here.

..He's so angry that he wanst the first one to see you, but at least you're here now

He understands that you need to communicate with others but..

Make sure to pay attention to him

___________________________________________

..Want me to make part 2?

..if yes then what characters? Or should I spin the wheel again?

https://spinthewheel.app/RJM6E2G5Di/link

[misskattylashes]

Just ruminating after @thelastshadowpuppies post about Alex’s t shirt and how Miles and Alex really are opposites....

Alex – wears clothes until they fall apart, seems to have things in his wardrobe that date back to 2009!

Miles – Mr Fast Fashion (I don’t mean in the Primark sense) always changing his style and buying countless new and vintage clothes.

Alex – has pretty much worked with the same group of people his entire career, not just the other Monkeys but people like Zackery Michael, Ben Chappell, James Ford and Richard Ayoade

Miles – has worked with tons of different people like Lana Del Rey, Jamie T, Imelda May, Corinne Bailey Rae, Jaded Hearts Club, Alex (obvs), Jack Savoretti, Yungblud...to name but a few

Alex – when not being ‘Alex Turner’ totally hides from public view. ‘recents’ with fans seem to have a vetting process because they often appear weeks after the event, and even his friends on social media are not allowed to post him (this does not include children’s drawings)

Miles – loves to be visible, sharing a lot of his life on social media, allowing his friends to post pics of him.

Alex – exudes sensual feminine energy and yet at the same time is masculine.

Miles – excudes sexual masculine energy and yet at the same time has a gentleness about him.

On the surface it’s hard to understand why they get on so well, but I guess they bring something to each other, professionally, working with Alex taught Miles how to sing in a softer voice, whle Miles taught Alex not everything has to be serious and to embrace his playful side.

Personally, there is still something of the outsider about both of them. Even today in 2024 as 38 year old men, they remind me of those boys at school people were a bit wary of – Alex because he was so quiet and yet seemed to watch everyone and would have sudden outbursts of strange behaviour, and Miles because he was hyper and never concentrated, and on the surface confident beyond his years, and other kids would find him intimidating. Alex would probably hero worship him because he was the sort of person he wished he could be....and Miles would love little Alex because he had the same weird interests and thoughts Miles did but was too insecure to admit and hid it with cockiness...

And there starts a whole Milex AU YA fic....lol

[seancekitsch]

Setting: Cabin

Genre: Mystery 

Trope: Undercover Married 

Prompt: On a roadtrip together 

Kink: Exhibitionism

from the fic prompt generator with Adrian?

ok i hope you were hoping for a full on fic bc here it is

Being Watched

smut, basically the prompt, i got carried away

“Adebayo I just don’t understand why we have to be married on all of these missions,” you sigh into the receiver of your burner phone, the sound of the shower in the cabin drowning out any possibility of your best friend hearing. The shitty flip phone looks ridiculous, and anyone would peg you as undercover at this resort. There are senators here, senators who very well could be butterflies, and you’re here with a flip phone in the honeymoon cabin after driving 6 hours in the Vigilante-Mobile with Adrian singing along to Carly Rae Jepsen. Not that you minded that part, you sang along with him and fed him sour gummy worms while he got you there safely. 

“You guys just… work like that,” she responds, not even trying to hide her snickering on the other end. She’s right, check in at the resort went smoothly because Adrian slipped his right arm around your waist and made a show of waving around his wedding ring to all of the staff, kissing the side of your head and gushing about how excited he was that the bed was one of those vintage round ones from the 70s in the cabin. You yourself couldn’t stop blushing while you curled into him and clutched your suitcase close. You looked like a couple madly in love. Leota reminds you to keep your head on straight and to stay safe and all the other things you have to do before you’re rushing off the phone because you hear the shower stop. 

It’s only a few moments until your friend, your best friend, comes out of the little bathroom of the cabin with nothing but a towel draped low around his hips. 

Fuck, this was going to be harder than you thought.

But wasn’t it always? Don’t you always go through this? Adrian always parades around the hotel or villa or cabin you’re in with that damn wedding ring on his finger and you always practically jump out of your skin, itching to move closer to him under the sheets at night or to kiss his lips in private, away from potential counter surveillance. 

A part of you suspects this is just a forced proximity thing. You didn’t always want to fall into bed with your best friend since high school, and you didn’t always wish the wedding rings were real. But now you do, sometimes overwhelmingly so…

“What? Did I scrub too hard and accidentally wipe a nipple off?”

Fuck, you’ve been staring, checking him out like some kind of perv. You shake your head, nervous that somehow Adrian gained the ability to read minds or something from too many hits to the head. 

“Nope, I didn’t,” he confirms to himself, looking down at his bare chest to check. 

“Sorry, Ade, I must have zoned out,” you physically shake yourself out of it. You can do this. 

“Are you gonna shower too?” he asks, and you swear he’s flexing now, his biceps chiseled and shiny in the lamplight. You never thought of yourself as the type to go after muscular dudes, and you still aren’t really, Adrian is just an exception. 

You nod, quickly rifling through your bag for your toiletries and speeding to the bathroom door for some privacy.

The click of the door in the latch triggers a sigh you didn’t realize was building in your chest. Just three more days, you tell yourself, three more days of this week long recon mission and you could go home, scrub the smell of his cologne off of you and touch yourself until you passed out to get rid of all this tension in your body.

You fiddle with the nob on the shower and shed your clothes quickly to jump under the slightly too hot spray. 

This is exactly what you needed. You let the steam rolling off the tiles and your skin evaporate all the tension in your muscles and your mind. You relax fully. Maybe you can just spend the rest of the night in bed watching shitty cable movies and laughing and your feelings can bury themselves for the evening. 

Your relaxation is short lived, though. 

“Hey Honey?” Adrian calls through the door; Honey is the codename for when things go sour. Shit. 

“Can I come in?”

You fiddle with the nob and quickly end your shower, lucky to be done with the shampoo so you can hastily grab the towel and wrap it around you. 

“Of course, Sugar!” you call, back, quickly unlocking the door and open it for him to scurry in, now clad in his sweatpants and an athletic training top that truly did you no favors in sparing you from his looks. He presses his back against the door, looking up around the perimeters of the ceiling. 

“What’s going on?” you whisper, clutching your towel tighter to yourself. 

“We’re being watched,” Adrian tells you, pushing up his glasses and only letting his eyes dart briefly to your body, “I just saw one of the cameras turn on, little red light next to the smoke detector.”

“There’s supposed to be a light, Ade,” you sigh, “There’s supposed to be a red light. That means it's working to y’know, detect smoke.”

You roll your eyes and turn away from him, grabbing the loose sweatshirt you brought in here and bringing it down around you without disrupting the towel; a talent you mastered from having to bunk with the guys on too many occasions.

“No that’s—“ Adrian stops himself and curses under his breath, “I know that. You have a smoke detector in your apartment.”

You snap your head up to look at him while you grab your sweatshorts. 

“Why do you say that like your apartment doesn’t have a smoke detector?”

Adrian just smiles at you. 

“Okay,” you physically shake your head to keep yourself from doing the mental gymnastics on that one, pulling your shorts over your thighs, “So, typical plan H?” 

You hate plan H. Plan H is a fake-out make-out until whoever is watching stops. You’ve done this countless times, and never has it gotten easier. Once you stop kissing its back to the normal friend shit and the ice cold longing that sinks into your gut. Every time his lips fall on yours you beg and pray to any god that will listen that this will be real, that you won't stop once you realize the coast is clear. Every time he makes you moan it's for real, and he always compliments your acting skills. You’re a shit fucking actor and you know it. You thought he knew it too, for how well he knew you. 

You sigh.

“Plan H it is,” and you towel off your hair as much as possible. It's going to get ruined and you'll just have to re-shower in the morning. But if it gets surveillance out of your room, its worth the risk. No one ever wants to watch “newlyweds” go at it. He watches you squeeze the excess moisture from your hair with an expression you can’t exactly place. With Adrian, it’s usually so easy to tell how he’s feeling. Somehow, he never learned how to hide himself or how to be sarcastic or to read emotions. But this look in his eyes you can’t figure out; it’s dark and far off and seems to be trained on your knees of all places, from what you can tell of blotting your hair upside down.

This dance is like all the rest. You come barreling out of the bathroom all hand and lips and limbs and he practically throws you on the rounded mattress. Its like this every time, you throw your leg over his hip and he licks at your jaw and you moan and you cry out genuinely because you're sensitive and you love it.

You let yourself fall onto your back, not even putting your elbows down to break your fall. Adrian’s arms quickly cage you down like a vice, his entire body pushing onto yours, his weight apparent but not crushing. 

“Fuck, I’m so glad I can call you my wife,” he says, looking into your eyes but loud enough for any camera to hear. You roll your neck back, opening it up for him to kiss the full expanse of it and play the role of dutiful lover.

“My love,” you gasp, his mouth latching onto the skin above your jugular. He sets your skin aflame, makes you burn. Adrian kisses all the skin on your neck he can reach before he throws the covers over you. This is the finale piece.

And god, how you wish this was real. It feels like torture to be so close to the real thing and to not actually have it. Knowing that you’ll be pent up and jumpy for the rest of this mission and spend an entire night with your vibrator between your legs the moment debrief is over. That the expectation now, that’s what always happens.

What you don’t expect is for Adrian to push himself back from you to pull his shirt from his chest. Fucking hell, you think, your eyes following the reveal of skin, from his happy trail on his abs to the little dusting of chest hair on his sculpted pectorals, the finale being his broad shoulders that lead to arms strong enough to carry you like you’re weightless.

He spreads your legs and pushes himself between them, and you immediately curse yourself for not putting on underwear when you threw on your shorts. That meant your panties were somewhere in the bathroom and there were so many more chances to embarrass yourself now. He slots himself between your legs in a way that looks real. Anyone watching on the other side of that little red light wouldn’t know the difference. That was key to Plan H, something you and Adrian had actually fumbled through practicing in his apartment one night, setting up his phone in different vantage points and testing what motions looked real. 

Adrian pulls at the neckline of your sweatshirt, already stretched out from years of wear as you thread your fingers through his curls. God they feel so soft, so much more defined and luscious since you convinced him to ditch the five in one.

Adrian moans against your skin, and you go stiff. 

“Do it again,” he whispers, the breath of a laugh on his words and it’s only now that you realized you had tugged on his hair. 

You open your eyes to the sight of the mirror over the bed, taking in your appearance. Your hair is tangled and damp, you look like a drowned rat. Adrian however, is all rippling back muscles and reddened scar tissue from a nasty fight the two of you barely got out of making his pale skin look even more beautiful. Shit, this really looks real, the way he’s eagerly nipping at your collarbone and neck, the way he’s flexing his muscles and taking control of the situation. Adrian is many things, your best friend, a possible maniac, weapons expert, slightly emotionally stunted, but he could easily add erotic stand in on a movie set to that list.

You decide to help him out, hiking your parted knees up until they’re around his hips, and one of his hands grips the back of your knee and pushes the leg even farther. Without thinking, you let out the neediest whine you've ever heard, feeling your skin ignite. You have entirely too many clothes on. You watch your own eyes in the overhead mirror, pupils blown wide and a stray tear leaning from the outer corner, your lips fallen open in desperation. You’re fucked. 

You tear your eyes away from yourself, desperate to do anything but break your own heart over the fact that this is not at all real and you will have to sleep in this very bed with him tonight. Your gaze drifts to the smoke detector with its damned red light. 

It’s singular red light. 

Just one, not two. 

That means…

“Adrian! Adrian, stop,” your hands move to brace themselves on his chest, putting distance between you where his lips had made connection with the underside of your jaw.

He pulls apart like he’s been burned, all except for where your legs are still hitched around his waist. 

“What’s wrong, did I hurt you?”

His eyes are wide with panic, darting around your face to look for signs of pain, of anger, of disgust. You know exactly what he’s doing. He’s been searching for that disgusted look since high school and he’s never grown out of it. You know the look well, having watched him make it towards women at community college, as well as being on the receiving end of it once or twice.

“No,” you say, your hand rubbing at his shoulder to try to soothe him. As much as he tries to say he doesn’t have emotions, you can feel them in his tense muscles. 

“Ade, look at the smoke detector again.”

He does as you say, giving you a full view of his toned neck; gorgeous and just there for the biting and if this was real you would have wasted no time in sucking a dark hickey into the expanse of skin there, claiming him as your own for all to see. Not that he’s exactly someone who has people lining up to get with him, but still. If anyone wanted to they just couldn’t. 

“It’s the normal amount of lights,” he says, but he makes no move to get off of you. You don’t want him to though, and it’s not like you untangle your legs from his waist either. 

“They stopped watching,” he continues, eyes darting around, searching your face for a new game plan. 

“I guess we should…” you trail off, avoiding eye contact as much as possible and finally starting to slip you legs away from where you had so hastily wrapped them around him. You had made a mistake there, getting way too into it yourself. This isn't the kind of place where you can get selfish, you think, there are lives at stake.

Adrian’s eyes are dark with something unknown, his expression unreadable as he searches your face once more. 

“We don't have to,” his voice sounds so matter-of-fact.

“Adrian… what-” your eyebrows furrow as you wrack your brain trying to figure him out. You start to move your legs, unhooking your ankles and unlocking yourself from Adrian’s hips- when he stops you in your tracks; hand planted on your thighs to keep them in place.

“What if… What if I want to keep going?” he asks a bold question with an equally bold straightforward delivery. What if he wants to keep going? Is this a fucking joke? He isn't the type to joke like this.

“Do you?” you ask, ready to risk it all. The words are out of your mouth before you can weigh the consequences of them. 

Adrian scoffs.

“Duh,” he says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. As if, of course, of course he would want to keep going, would want to keep ravaging you and throwing you into the deep end of this torture. 

“We… Our friendship,” you gasp, grasping at something almost dumbly.

“You mean our friendship that I already totally ruined?” he balks, as if you're late to the party, as if you should already know.

“Ruined?” you parrot, and his left hand shoots to your knee,keeping you from slipping away from him.

“Yeah, I mean like, by falling in love with you and shit. I thought you knew. Chris makes fun of me all the time,” he admits, and finally his grip on you loosens. He gives you every opportunity to move away and get out of this position. That look of bracing for disgust evident in his eyes again in full force and absolutely killing you. 

“Adrian,” you say, trailing off, the words confirming in failing on your tongue. Of course you'd heard Chris making fun of Adrian, but he makes fun of Adrian for everything so you figured it was better to ignore it.

Adrian pushes himself off of you to lean back on his knees, starting to pat the bed feeling around for his shirt. 

“Wait, Ade!” You almost scream, ready to beg as long as he stays exactly how he is. Between your legs.

He freezes, his expression unreadable to you for maybe the first time ever.

“What if I want to keep going too?” you ask, voice timid and far away, but your arms remain loose and planted around his neck. 

“Do you?” he asks, not at all hiding his enthusiasm. You fucking love that about him. He looks so excited. So happy, and knowing it's all for you...

You fucking kiss him instead of formally responding, arching your back and pushing yourself up to connect with him, forcing your lips to make contact so he knows, he knows, that you’re desperate for it. His tongue licks against your lips and you moan wantonly, not unlike your fake recon moan, but this time entirely real and something you fully intended on hiding until Adrian embarrassingly pulled it from you. 

You accept his tongue in your mouth eagerly, letting him take the lead and pulling more moans from you, absolutely kissing all of your resolve out of you.

“Fuck me, Ade,” you whisper, puling your lips away from his for a moment, ready to scream the same words if he asks.

“Me?” he asks, “You want me? Jesus, I’ve been waiting so long to hear that.”

“Not as long as me, I promise,” you laugh, and pull him back down onto you, fingers threading into his curls again.

You tug on his hair again as his teeth graze your bottom lip, earning an absolutely sinful groan from his lips. You've heard this man yell and scream and groan in pain but nothing like this; this is like heaven itself, better than any drug you could think of. Better than the indica strain in your vape that Adrian always yells at you for hitting in the Vigilante-mobile.

He bites down on your lip, not worrying about whether or not it hurts, reveling in the yelp you let loose against his mouth. Adrian’s hands travel up your thighs, over your hips and those little sweat shorts, squeezing right against your pelvic joints, and then finally they dip under your sweatshirt, his hot calloused hands against your smooth skin. 

“You know,” he starts, open mouth working its way back from your mouth to your jaw, “It kinda sucks they aren’t watching anymore. Woulda been hot.”

Your brain fries and short circuits at his words. You peek an eye open at him, eyes blissfully closed and still continuing his kissing as if that was the most normal thing for him to say. Honestly, you figured Adrian had to be into some kinky shit. You've heard him discuss his threesomes with Chris, and you've seen what the trunk of his sebring looks like. He can protest all he wants but you know the fuzzy pink handcuffs aren't for any kind of “bad guy” he could be up against. Plus, he just kills them. He doesn't exactly take prisoners.

“You wanted an audience for this?” Surprise more evident in your voice than you meant it to be. Part of you thinks you might have slipped and fell in the shower and this is some sort of hallucination or fucked up knock-out dream. 

His hips twitch and buck into yours, and you easily respond with a roll of your hips in return. 

“Want those fucks to see I finally got the girl,” he responds, rocking his hips back up into you again, but on purpose this time. His hands travel to your chest and your heart breaks for him a little. You know if this goes well you'll be his first real girlfriend. The first girl to spend more than one consecutive night, the first girl to do dishes and laundry with him, the first girl to not run because you know all the ugly shit he’s done and you already don't care. 

“Always had me, babe,” you pant. Your back arches off the mattress as you meet the movement of his hips, now working up a rhythm against each other.

“We both just needed to pretend to be married to get it right,” you joke, pushing him back only enough for you to wiggle out of your sweatshirt and throw it towards the edge of the bed. Now you know what Adebayo was talking about on the phone. You guys just work like that. Like a married couple, like a real couple. He laughs and starts kissing down your chest, immediately latching himself onto one breast while he grabs at your waist. You tug on his hair again as your other hand starts to travel his toned back. He’s absolutely beautiful, you think, running your fingertips over the freckles along his shoulder blades that you've memorized at this point.

“Need to-,” you gasp as he bites down on the underside of your breast, and you're sure youll be covered in marks by dawn, “Need to feel you.”

You aren't sure when you became a beggar, or maybe Adrian just made you one. 

“Oh you’ll feel me,” he promises, starting to kiss his way down your ribcage, down your stomach. He’s much more of a kisser than you imagined, much more attentive and much more loving. You almost feel bad for not thinking of him like this when you used to touch yourself to the thought of him. That feeling immediately dissolves when he then bites at your hip, his hands pulling at your shorts to give him more access to your skin. 

It’s awkward and fumbling to get you out of your shorts, not unlike two teens going at it on prom night, all nerves and fear and curiosity bound in eagerness. He tries to whip them off of your calves, resulting only in jerking your ankles up awkwardly, and the two of you burst into a comfortable laughter as you remove them yourself the rest of the way.

He freezes for a moment, finally seeing you completely bare. At first, it’s extremely flattering, his lips hanging open and his eyes wide as they search your form.

And then you find your arms slinking from their position on his shoulders to try to cover yourself, only to be stopped by Adrian himself. His rough hands wrap themselves around your wrists, pinning them down so they can’t go where you wanted. 

“Can’t hide from the Vigilante,” he jokes, bravado evident in his voice. 

You only roll your eyes and giggle in response.

“Please don’t tell me you’ll be Vigilante in bed too,” you counter. 

“Might chase you.”

You know he’s serious, just like you know he’s serious about wishing the camera was still watching. 

Heat floods your body, and suddenly all of this is so real, Adrian, his hips pressed against your bare body between your legs, his dusting of curly brown hair on his chest, the warm eyes behind glasses staring straight back into yours.

“Adrian…” you trail off, not sure what you're trying to say or ask. It's all just, the Adrian of it all.

“No, I’m serious, babe. I might chase you,” and everything in his tone tells you he’s serious.

“Please… Adrian,” you don't even finish the sentence, because he knows exactly what you're asking for. His hands abandon your wrists to find themselves on your hips again and his lips find your own. He kisses you deeply, like a promise, hard and slow as his fingers move eagerly. Featherlight touches you didn’t expect him capable of trail from your hips to the apex of your legs. You’re so thankful you shaved in the shower; you know Adrian wouldn’t actually give a fuck about body hair, but there’s just something about a first impression you can’t help but feel. 

You gasp against his mouth the moment his finger dips and bumps against your clit, clumsy, but perfect. He doesn't stop kissing you as he explores further, tracing circles against your clit delicately, and then more forcefully.

You can tell by the way he kisses you that he’s studying, testing the waters to see what gives you the most pleasure, what you react most to. He switches from his circular motion to a rocking back and forth of his fingertip over your clit, and you think it's lights out for a second; Fuck, it feels so good. 

“Oh, that's it,” he whispers, lips still smashed against yours. You can only whine in response, high pitched and needy. You try to arch your back, try to move in any way you can to get Adrian better access to you. He only pushes you further, his grip of one hand so tight on your hip it could bruise, the other working hard to make you feel good. But he doesn't even need to work that hard, with the way you are moaning and crying against him. Your skin burns under his touch, and freezes with the absence of it. You come alive like a wire tripped and electrified under him. You love it, and you knew you would,  but it feels so different from the idea of him and the real thing. There's so much romance here, even if Adrian’s lack of romance could possibly deny that.

“Fuckin’ love it,” you moan against him, and he tries to roll his hips, incapacitated by his own hand. Quickly he pulls himself away letting his sweatpants clothed cock shove against you.

You can feel it, sort of. You can feel that his cock is big and that he knows how to move his hips but you want to know everything about it, want to memorize every ride and twist and dip of his body.

You pull your lips from his, ripping yourself to the side just long enough to speak.

“Gimme all of it,” you beg, and he absolutely does not hesitate. Adrian removes his hand from where he's working you over to the waistband of his pants so he can free himself for you. 

He wiggles his sweatpants down awkwardly, fumbling and tangled up, but frees himself without any comment from you. You can’t say that you were exactly graceful either, the eagerness taking over your motor skills momentarily.

Adrian pauses for a second, letting the moment sink in. You’re bare before each other for the first time on purpose. It’s not like when he would come in through your window unannounced after work and you’d scream and throw shoes at him. It’s full of lust and love and sheer nerves. For both of you, it isn't your first time, but as he pushes into you without weird decorum of virginity, it feels almost alien, but at the same time, this is how it's supposed to happen. He bottoms out with a little smile, searching your face for any sign of pain or discomfort. If he finds any, it fades away quickly with a kiss. His eyes are the prettiest shade of brown, you think, feeling your own little smile grace your lips. 

“Guess the newlywed cabin is living up to its name finally,” you joke, stopping again to press a kiss against his lips, “only took, what, multiple missions?”

Seven. It took seven missions.

Adrian snaps at this point. His hips move, completely without warning to thrust back out and into you again, so roughly and perfectly Adrian that it feels too good. It's everything you imagined and more.

“Wish this was happening every time,” He thrusts more, “Imagined us actually married.” 

He moans, relinquishing his self control to how good it feels. All of your nerves were already on fire, but his words kick you into overdrive, the same way that when you hold your finger over a candle too long it feels almost cold. Your nails rake down his back as his pace picks up, your legs around his back giving you leverage to thrust back on every snap of his hips. 

“Wanna be yours,” you moan, your head thrown back against the pillow to give yourself better leverage to arch your back.

“Wish that fuckin’ camera was still on,” He groans, “Want everyone to know you’re mine.”

He dips his head down, first connecting with the underside of your jaw, then to the side of your neck where he bites down, hard and unapologetic; You know it's gonna bruise up to a dark purple by morning.

“Fuck,” you moan, “Keep that up and they’re gonna.”

Adrian only laughs against your skin, and bites down again. He doesn’t falter or change his pace, his hips always snapping recklessly against you. You feel more full than you ever have, something about Adrian invading all of your senses and overwhelming all of them has you a mess already. You’re sure he’s gonna last longer than you, already your body feeling like it’s floating in space and already your mind drowning in everything Adrian.

“Adri-” you whine, but off by your own voice, as your body jolts under his touch. More accurately, his slap. Its light and playful and just enough to drive you that much further towards the edge.

“Oh… You liked that?” 

You nod.

He laughs, scrunching his nose to try and push his glasses back up his nose.

“I knew you would. Had to be kinky if you were into me,” he sighs, before slapping your cheek again a little harder, and you find your moan melting into a laugh. He’s so effortlessly hot while still being adorable Adrian. He knows you so well.

“Fuck me harder, babe,” you beg, finding it harder and harder to form words as tension rises in your body, your body overheated and every nerve like fireworks. Adrian seems to be spurred on even more by the pet name, immediately pushing into you even harder the second you call him babe. 

You can feel your orgasm building quickly, now completely sure you're gonna finish before him. He pistons into you, hips pressing flush against you, his balls against your ass. He’s no longer pulling all the way out, instead staying deep inside you and grinding his hips harder into you. It's absolutely driving you wild, moans and whines spilling from your lips. You're close, so incredibly close, and there's no way he can’t feel it from his position. He presses his whole being against you, his sweaty chest against you, his forehead pressed against yours. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is even more perfect than you ever could have imagined. And now you see it, the way Adrian could so easily pretend you were actually married. How easily all of this came to you both, how well you knew each other's bodies without ever doing this before. That deeper feeling without a name.

Your fingers move from his back, surely scratched and maybe even a little ripped up from your nails, and to his scalp, to those bouncy curls that you always look for in a crowded room.

“Fuck!” Adrian practically shouts as you pull at them, rutting harder into you even still. That pushes you over the edge, and you barely register the shaking of your legs or the low moan in your throat as your fist tightens in his hair. 

“Goddamn,” he chuckles, hands leaving their place on the mattress to cup your cheeks as he lets you come down from your high and finishes off himself. You whine almost pitifully as you can feel the searing heat of him spilling inside you, and he just soothes you with the sweetest kisses you've ever tasted. He stays there a little while, a lot more gentle and intuitive than you expected of him. He wipes away tears you hadn't realized had fallen and he lets you catch your breath. 

“My pretty wife,” he sighs, moving slowly as he finally pulls out of you, the sting of his departure and the cool air of the cabin knocking you like a wave. 

“Not your wife,” you correct him, but your voice is full of love and exhaustion. 

Not your wife, yet, at least. You can't afford to get ahead of yourself, especially not when you work on this team, but you let the thought pass through your mind without punishing yourself at least. 

Adrian just laughs, full and boisterous as he pulls you into his chest and holds you there in an iron grip. You think for a moment, that maybe he does that so you won't leave. You weren't planning on it anyway. 

“I still wish the camera was on,” he sighs, pressing a kiss to your hairline. 

“I know, babe,” you mumble, eyes getting heavier. 

And then. 

“Wait, Adrian, can we circle back to the thing where I don't think you own a smoke detector?”

[the-sunshine-dims]

No because something about fable taking Isla's song, taking her lullaby for her boys and using it to win over Rae, apologize for pitting Icarus against him and creating fear around him, as if he wouldn't again, something about about how much he used Isla's name and memory to win their misplaced trust, singing the lullaby of the woman he took to comfort her son that he had been mistreating. Calling him his, as if he believed it when it will always be apparent he doesn't- the way he has a tendency to put his 'family' under lock and key, like dolls in a doll house, birds in a gilded birdcage and Rae was never a very good doll, nor a bird. And it's so clear how he casts Rae away, because Rae thinks, he always wants answers, so naturally curious- while Icarus just follows Fable's word, even if they know. they follow because he's their dad

Something about fable taking things away from isla, taking her name, taking her memory, her space, her children, and how he was always the one to tear the family apart, and yet will probably always blame Rae for it, always pinpoint Rae being conceived as what made isla leave and take her son with her, because why would she leave the one trying to make everything 'better'?

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Malleus Draconia - "Voice in the Night"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

In which during on of his nightly strolls around the Diasomnia dorm courtyard, a certain dragon fae is bewitched by the voice of an angel. Or; In which Malleus Draconia hears a lovely voice he's never quite heard before singing a song that is equally unknown yet undeniably familiar to him.

The song used in this is; Lana Del Rae's 'Once Upon a Dream'

                                                                                                   

🌌•♡•🌌•♡•🌌•♡•🌌•♡•🌌•♡•🌌•♡•🌌•♡•🌌

"I know you, I've walked with you once upon a dream~"

A sweet voice drifts through the night air; dancing in the wind and spreading its lovely melody throughout the silent NRC campus.

"I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a glean~"

The sugar-sweet melody sways downwards to the courtyard outside of the Diasomnia dorm; slithering into the ears of the unsuspecting dragon fae. His pale, pointed ears twitch and his eyes widen; unconsciously turning his head to the side as the honeyed voice flows toward him from some unknown place.

"And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem~"

Malleus' lime green eyes soften as he lifts his gaze to Diasomnia's dorm, eyes trailing from window to window in search of the person who's blessing his ears with such a lovely yet distantly familiar song. Then he spots them— a figure leaning on one of the fourth-floor balconies, cradling their head in their palms as they gently swayed back and forth. He could make out the movement of their hair blowing in the wind if he focused enough.

"But if I know you, I know what you'll do~"

The horned man couldn't help but wonder who they were; he couldn't recall hearing their voice before now. Something so sweet... He'd remember hearing something so sweet if ever he had heard it. Would it be too forward of him to go to them and ask them their name? Would they fear him like so many others?

"You'll love me at once the way you did once upon a dream~"

Unconsciously, the dragon fae had turned his entire body to face the dorm building and had even taken a few steps forward. His lips were parted in absolute awe at this mysterious figure on the balcony above him. In his chest, his heart beat erratically, nearly violently thundering against his ribcage. The palms of his hands were trembling slightly and slick with sweat, it felt like he couldn't breathe at all— like all the air was snatched from his lungs.

"But if I know you, I know what you'll do~"

The prince closed his eyes and shook his head forcing a breath inwards; his lungs quaking as he did so. What... what in the world was this? Had he been cursed? Did he feel... nervous? But he also felt relieved at the same time. His heart was still hammering away in his chest.

"You'll love me at once~"

It doesn't matter now. Malleus turns away from the window once again, continuing on his way to finish his nightly moonlit stroll. Even as he departed from the window, the sweet melody from that stranger's lips still caressed his ears, only quieter this time. It grew fainter and fainter as he walked away. He'll certainly be asking Lilia about the strange feeling in his body first thing in the morning.

"The way you did once upon a dream~"

🌌•♡•🌌•♡•🌌•♡•🌌•♡•🌌•♡•🌌•♡•🌌•♡•🌌

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

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[ateriblewriter]

Rae of Sunshine (q.h)

Family is Everything Series

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a/n: sorry if this makes no sense.

July 2031

"Come here baby." Quinn scooped the tired two year old out of the water and into his waiting arms. The two of them had been playing outside all day, it was time for a little break.

The summer had gone by a little too fast for his liking and it was almost time for the family to make the trek back to Vancouver. The Hughes family as a whole had celebrated practically everything this summer. From cup wins to birthdays and even a wedding. Nothing affected him more than his baby turning another year older.

"No Daddy. Down. Play in water." The small curly brunette child tried squirming out of her father's arms. Eden wasn't ready to done playing in the water she so deeply adored. She had just turned two, and she still thought she was ruler of the family.

"Eden, it's time to take a rest." Quinn's grip on his child tightened. He was not about to let her go ever no matter what she tried to do. "Auntie Ari and Uncle Lu are coming back today.” He watched as her face lit up at the mention of his youngest brother and new sister in law. “But you need some quiet time first."

“I big girl. No need nap.” Eden wriggled herself free, splashing down in the water.

“Get back here stinky.” Quinn chased after his daughter, giving her a little more time before he captured her, holding her closer this time. “You don’t need to take a nap. We could go inside by Mommy or we could sit in the hammock and chill for a bit.”

Eden in his youngest, and last child. Once Eden Rae was born he made a big promise to Y/N they were done having kids. He would make sure of it, something she gladly agreed to.

Out of his three children Eden was most likely his favorite. He knew he shouldn’t have favorites, as that could cause problems down the road. But he had had the most time with her when she was a baby. She was born during a low time in his life when he was still trying to get over a terrible injury and his marriage had been in shambles. His little Rae of Sunshine had been there.

And then there was the accident that almost took her from him. He didn’t know what he would do if any of his babies didn’t survive that terrible day. Eden had the worst chance of not making it out. He stayed by her side for hours watching her making sure she was still breathing. Even though he wasn’t at fault for the crash, he still wouldn’t have forgiven himself if hadn’t they survived.

"No mommy. Only daddy." Eden yawned and rubbed her tired little eyes. She puckered her lips and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, blowing Quinn a kiss.

"I'm not going anywhere, don't worry." Quinn smiled lightly, starting to hum the song they had started singing to her while she was in the hospital. The child laid her head on his shoulder, her eyes getting heavier, the prospect of sleep getting harder to resist.

"Sing, daddy."

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray." Quinn wasn't the greatest singer in the world, but he would do anything for the child.

 He didn't even get halfway through the first verse when he heard soft snores. He still continued to sing softly, trying to soak up the time before his baby grew up and didn't need him anymore.