#but instead the most awkward coming outs i can provide

[solxamber]

This is Love - Riddle Rosehearts x reader

3 times he notices your acts of love and realizes it doesn't have to be grand and overdramatic like the movies, it could just be like this– sweet and considerate.

crossposted from my ao3!

You’re not speaking to him. He knows why, of course—Riddle's temper had gotten the better of him again. Another argument, another set of rules he enforced too strictly, and this time you’d had enough. He had heard the bite in your words, the frustration lacing every syllable when you told him to “loosen up.”

And yet, despite the tension still simmering in the room, Riddle can’t relax. His back is stiff as he stares at the ceiling, hands clenched under the covers. He doesn't want to admit it, but the silence bothers him. It gnaws at him, the guilt festering. He can feel your presence beside him, but the distance between you feels like a canyon.

How could he have let things escalate like this?

He hears you sigh—sharp, frustrated—and then there's a shift in the blankets. For a second, he’s certain you’ll turn away from him, shutting him out entirely. It’s what he deserves, after all. But instead, something surprising happens.

Your arm. Wrapping around his waist. Gently, deliberately, like it always does before he falls asleep.

Riddle stiffens at first, completely taken aback. His mind races, wondering if this is a trick or just muscle memory. He doesn’t dare breathe. His heart is in his throat. You pull him closer and press a kiss to his hair.

Why are you…? After everything, you still…?

He feels the warmth of your touch seep into his skin, and slowly, so slowly, his rigid posture begins to relax. His breath comes out shakily, and though his pride won’t let him say it out loud, he’s grateful. It’s your way of telling him you’re still angry, but you love him. You always do.

And with that, sleep finally finds him, nestled in the comfort of your embrace.

The cold is biting today, and Riddle feels it in his bones. He’s leaving class with you, rubbing his arms discreetly as he walks. His uniform is meant to be formal and pristine, not warm, and his stubbornness refuses to let him complain. Still, he knows you’ve noticed.

Of course you’ve noticed.

“Riddle,” your voice breaks the quiet as you hurry to catch up with him. He doesn’t even look at you, still feeling the lingering embarrassment from earlier in class.

“Are you cold?”

“I’m fine,” he insists, his words clipped and precise. But the truth is, he’s shivering. His hands are numb. He’s starting to lose feeling in his fingers, and you can see it all over his face, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.

In a swift motion, before he can protest, you slip off your jacket and drape it over his shoulders. Riddle freezes—literally and figuratively.

“W-what are you—”

“Take my jacket,” you say casually, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I can’t have the Housewarden of Heartslabyul freezing to death.”

The words hit him harder than he expects. His cheeks flame bright red, matching the tips of his ears, and he’s torn between protesting and basking in the warmth your jacket provides. It smells like you, like comfort, and he’s mortified by how much he likes it.

“...Thank you,” he mutters, barely audible, but the soft smile on your face tells him you heard him loud and clear. He tugs the jacket tighter around himself, both embarrassed and… a little touched. Maybe more than a little.

It’s late. Too late. Riddle’s been up for hours, drowning in paperwork and assignments, his brain on the verge of collapse. He’s so exhausted that even the numbers on the page are starting to blur together. Just a few more pages. He can finish this. He can—

He doesn’t remember falling asleep. One moment, he’s sitting at his desk, half-writing, half-dreaming, and the next, he wakes up with his face smushed against his textbook. His eyes flutter open groggily, his neck aching from the awkward angle.

Great. This will set him back for the entire day.

He blinks, trying to shake off the fog of sleep, and looks down at the stack of papers on his desk. The assignments are… finished? Every single one of them.

Riddle frowns. There’s no way he did all this. Is there?

“When did I finish this?” he mutters to himself, flipping through the pages. The handwriting is… definitely not his.

“You didn’t,” you say from the bed, voice casual as you scroll through your phone.

Riddle stares at you, wide-eyed and confused. “What?”

“You were practically dead on your feet, Riddle. I finished it for you.”

He’s too shocked to respond at first. His heart races, a mix of disbelief and something else—something soft, unfamiliar. He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to process the way his chest feels tight, but in a good way.

“You… shouldn’t have done that,” he says weakly, though the words don’t carry any real conviction. He’s already skimming through the assignments, seeing how you’d matched his usual style of work almost perfectly.

You just shrug, grinning lazily. “Yeah, well. I wanted to.”

And there it is again—that warmth. The same feeling he got when you held him during the argument, or when you handed him your jacket. It’s starting to become more familiar, more difficult to ignore. His heart does a funny little flip in his chest as he stares at the completed work, then back at you.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice so quiet he almost hopes you didn’t hear it.

But, of course, you did. You always do.

Riddle's never been great at expressing feelings that aren't tied to logic or rules. Love is messy and complicated, the kind of thing that doesn't fit neatly into the boxes he's carefully organized his life around. But there are moments—like when you wrap your arms around him after a fight, or when you lend him your jacket, or when you finish his assignments without a second thought—that make him wonder if maybe love isn’t supposed to fit into a box at all.

Maybe it’s supposed to be messy.

As he lies next to you in bed that night, your breathing steady and peaceful beside him, he finds himself unable to sleep. He keeps thinking about everything you do for him, the way you make his rigid, rule-bound world feel just a little more flexible.

“I love you,” he whispers into the quiet of the room, his voice barely audible.

You stir beside him, half-asleep, your arm lazily draping over his waist. “Love you too,” you murmur back, voice soft and groggy.

Riddle feels a weight lift off his chest, something warm and sweet settling in its place. He closes his eyes, smiling into the darkness, and for once, he falls asleep with no worries at all. Maybe this is love.

Masterlist

[rockingbytheseaside]

I know I just sent in that eremite hcs thing but idk if your requests are open and I'm shy💔

I really love your writing and I was hoping you can do Dottore x eremite reader, GN is pref but I would like descriptions of them being big and muscular (because they are, they're better than most playable models i fear) if ever

maybe eremite reader being the representative that will form an alliance with the fatui?

or..Dottore disguised as a regular person (we all know he can ehapeshift, or atleast his segments) and gets bumped into yadda yadda to see if Sumeru has changed since his last visit, only to be greeted with absolute kindness from eremite reader? :3

(I’ve seen your previous messages anon, and mmmm do I love your interpretation of modern Dottore’s design and small influences of eremite culture in it. I know this is not what you exactly wrote, but I needed to let this out of my system. For all those requesting more Dottie stuff, this is for you)

✦ An Oasis in the Desert of Heretics 

(Zandik/Dottore x Eremite Reader: sfw) 

✧ Imagine the astonishment of your tribe when you return one day with a scrawny kid dragged by the collar in your hands. He looked disheveled, and a single glance at his Akademiya Jellabiya was clearly indicative that he was some wandering fool from Sumeru City. Your peers were confused, who was this blue-haired kid and how did you even find him amidst the desolate dunes of Deshret’s lands? 

The youth was disgruntled when you dragged him here, however, the elders of your tribe warned him to be thankful. Had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have made it in the desert alive. 

✧ It took a couple of days for this young man to recover. After he was nourished and offered plenty of water and rest, he was the one who slowly moved out of his shell. In the scorching sun of the day, he sat silently in the shade of the tents, observing you training with your Eremite peers. When you sparred and moved on with your duties, it looked as if Deshret’s gaze itself blessed your sun-kissed skin. And in these moments, the youth realized how far from home he was; even if he never considered Sumeru City his home.

You offered him company, but he often remained apprehensive between the Eremites. You weren't surprised, you thought he'd be another student who looked down upon your folk. But this boy showed none of such inhibitions - what you saw was genuine pain and fear in his ruby eyes. 

✧ After much coaxing and several Ajilenakh Nut candies, this young man began sitting down with you more frequently. Whenever dinner was served, you offered him a seat amongst your people. When he silently stood in the cool shadows of the desert night, you were the first who'd welcome him by the fire. It was in these moments that you learned his name, Zandik. And it was by the stillness of the night he confessed about his exile from the Akademiya, of his heresies.

You listened patiently to every word. Though you did not promise him paradise amongst your tribe, the young boy never forgot your words: “In the desert, we're all exiles. Is there a difference where you come from when we're all abandoned by our Gods?” 

✧ From here on out, Zandik could be found lingering in your secluded tribe. Perhaps it was an unofficial welcome, but you often showed him the ropes of your community. His once tousled uniform was forgotten, and instead, people provided him with more suitable clothes to protect him from the harsh desert sun. His silent brooding slowly shifted into timid approaches. At least he didn't ogle you whenever you trained in the mornings, he now asked you to train him. And though he was awkward at first, he didn't have the heart to confess his eyes were drinking praise of your muscles whenever you taught him.

Your peers joked and called him the foreigner of the tribe. Zandik never rebutted; he said it was better than being called a heretic. He just relished sitting next to you on the carpeted floor, listening to your chatter and chuckles as everyone ate Tahchin for dinner. 

✧ Zandik wasn't gullible though, he knew he shouldn't take your hospitality for granted. Eremites were cautious of outsiders, and no matter how he may look, he is one. The eremites saw hardships more than his young, inexperienced self did, thus his ignorance was transforming. Even without the Akademiya, he learned you valued any knowledge and books your people collected. The folk of the tribe were not uneducated. If anything, the people here welcomed topics that were often shunned in the halls of the institute. 

Whatever books and notes Zandik had on him when you found him in the desert, he felt more compelled to share them with you. In the silent hours of the night, you and he would share a tent hurried in some books he brought. He listened to you in awe when you said your tribe was never prohibited from exploring the Valley of Darhi and the giant Ruin Guard slumbering there. 

✧ But even your tribe harbored a tumor no one could eradicate – Eleazar. Many elders suffered from it, and more symptoms were showing in some of your peers. Zandik watched with a solemn gaze as you toiled and helped with whatever resources your tribe had. It was a grave topic in your tribe, to take care of those suffering, or honor those who passed from it. However since the young man had academic knowledge in biology and medicine, he wished to provide medical help. 

When his hand reached for vials of medicine, your own jolted to grasp his in a warning. You stopped his interference, telling him not to meddle. Zandik only gazed at you, a silent plea: “...You don't trust me yet?” Alas, you remained silent.

✧ Zandik’s restlessness was evident. With unbridled determination, he desired you to teach him to be competent in the desert. If he wants to be of use for the Eremites and his own research, his academic knowledge would not suffice under Deshret's red sand. Zandik instead followed you, like an eager child ready to mimic and learn, he desired to accompany you beyond the safe grounds of the tribe and venture forth on expeditions. 

You taught him to wield a spear first. It didn't take long for him to lose his footing and get a face full of sand… But after much trial and error, you mentored him with a claymore. Your hand was often on top of his when you guided him to hold onto the hilt, his skin getting warmer than usual. 

“Okay, maybe the heavy weight of the weapon will make sure you stay on both your feet for now.” 

✧ You were surprised at how much of a chatterbox he became wherever the two of you ventured on expeditions. He'd blabber endlessly about the numerous academic matters regarding the ruins you two found; of the leylines and its history. He never spoke for so long whenever the two of you were in the tribe. Yet as the sun cast its golden hues upon you two, Zandik realized he never found the desert sun cumbersome while trekking alongside you. When he smiles a boyish grin, his shoulders brushing against yours, the sunset becomes a queue to find shelter and set up camp for the night. 

In a secluded nook hidden from the endless expanse of sandy dunes, the dim glow of a single lantern illuminated the small makeshift tent. Within its confines, Zandik found himself nestled close beside you. It was his idea to push the sleeping pads together - to save space, as he had suggested with feigned practicality. Yet now, with his head resting on your arm and his short, unruly curls brushing against your shoulder, the throes of cold desert nights faded into irrelevance. All that remained was the tender warmth of your embrace, a solace he quietly cherished, cradled in the stillness of your presence.

✧ Perhaps this is why, after many centuries, a certain Harbinger was adamant about finding a cure for Eleazar. Having been recruited by the Jester, the Doctor rarely visited the lonesome desert of Sumeru. Yet it didn’t stop him from gazing off with wistful melancholy at the land. Perhaps the ever-shifting sands had since swept the evidence of yours and his footsteps, but his fond memories of trekking with you alone never faded. 

All his relentless research, the unyielding pursuit of knowledge and cures – were all to honor your people and the memory of your smile that lingered in his dreams, cradling a young Zandik in the warmth of your embrace.

(My headcanon stays, Pierro just magically teleports and appears to those he wanted to recruit. No questions asked, he just adopts them)

[tinydefector]

Swerve: traditionally, humans gift chocolates and stuffed animals, as a display of hunting prowess and ability to provide, on the fourteenth of February. This is because a deity named saint valentine is said to bless conjux pairs on this day.

-bumpinSUV

Traditions

Swerve x Human reader

Word count; 1k

Warnings: none

Heeeyyyyy Bumpin got some food for you~. Enjoy some clueless and hopeless romantic Swerve becuase I said so.

_______

Swerve stared down at the clunky plastic earth animals and chocolates clutched in his servos, completely befuddled. It had sounded like such a good plan when he came across it! But now, facing his human, uncertainty crept in. He offered an awkward chuckle. "Uh, happy February fourteenth! I know on Earth it's tradition for you guys to, uh, exchange dead animal carcasses and sweets as a romantic gesture. Something about showing you can provide, I think?" 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Swerve hoped he hadn't misunderstood. Or offended them! Primus, why was organic culture so weird? "So, uh, I thought maybe you'd like these gifts. Even though mice probably aren't a big hunting prize for humans." He cringed internally. At how embarrassed he was. "S-so, what do you think? Did I get the tradition right? Or should I just forget the whole—"

They give Swerve a slight look as they cut him off. "Swerve, why would you need to hunt?, plus it's July if my callander is right " They ask while looking at the stuff Swerve had set up, it looked as if he was trying to organise a date for them, it was a rather cute little set up more so than past people they had ever dated before, Their words fall silent as they take in the scene. 

Wincing internally, Swerve fidgeted under their searching gaze. Frag, this was even worse than he'd feared. "Well, ya know, I did some reading that Earth Valentines is about showing you can provide for a mate. And I know I ain't got much to offer organics, but I wanted to try!" He held out the gifts in his massive metal hands, practically trembling. 

"I know it ain't exactly a feast or nothin'. But I saw these toys and thought, maybe they'd pass for some small game? And the chocolate's real! Well, not made of real chocolate, more like synthechoc. But it's what I could get you!" 

Slumping with a sigh, Swerve knew he must look utterly foolish. But they deserved his honesty. "Look, I just wanna show ya I care, okay? Even if I'm lousy at Earth courting."

"My courting..." they go quiet for a moment before starting to giggle which turns into laughter. "Swerve Honey, Valentine's day, is in February. It's a day to spend with loved ones and enjoy each other's company, sometimes trade gifts to special people, which most are fake flowers and sweets" they continue to giggle softly. "What did you think was handsome?" They ask with a smile.

"O-oh." Swerve felt his plating heat as their laughter sank in, truly mortified. He should've just stuck to energon pouring and storytelling, left the Earth traditions well alone! "I, uh, may have misunderstood some cultural exchange files," he admitted bashfully. "Thought it was about proving yourself as a good provider! You know, strong and capable." 

He scuffed his pede sheepishly. "Maybe shoulda just asked you straight out, huh? Instead of all this." Swerve gestured ruefully at the mess of toys and candy. They smile and grab his servos. 

A warm glow flooded his Spark at their smile, though. Maybe he hadn't fragged it up totally. "So, uh, does that mean...you'd still consider spending time with me? We could watch a flick, share some high grade—" He cycled a vent, fans whirring. "I just wanna make you happy, anyhow I can. Without any mouse-hunting required."

They laugh lightly as they move towards him. "Swerve, please it's OK, calm down" they call out while waiting for him to sit down so they can at least touch his faceplate. "Yes you probably should have come to me to ask about it, but now I'm more interested in who told you about Valentine's day." they hum while pressing a kiss to his nasal ridge. 

Swerve's vents stuttered as their lips brushed his plating in a gentle kiss. "W-well, you know how it is - a mech hears stuff in the bar sometimes," he replied shyly, fans whirring as they caressed his face. "I think maybe Rung was telling Rodimus about Earth traditions, and overheard Whirl say something about hunting prowess being important for it." 

He groaned, covering his optics. "Frag, I should've known better than to trust second-hand cultural osmosis from that glitchheads, i justed wanted to do something special for you." Lowering his hand, Swerve gazed down at them hopefully. "Sorry about the mess, forgive my clumsy courting attempt? There's still a whole stash of synthechoc with your designation on it." 

He's still sheepish as they laugh at him, their hand trying to keep it in and not embarrass Swerve more. " Maybe you could, um, give me some proper pointers? About Earth holidays and such? I'd really like to get it right next time." They give him another soft kiss which he melts into.

 "Think we might have to talk about human holidays, and Swerve I don't expect you to have to follow human stuff. You know that right?" They ask softly tracing his face.

Swerve leaned happily into their gentle touch, systems buzzing with joy. "I know, I know. Don't gotta do human things if they don't make sense," he conceded affectionately. 

"It's just..." He vented softly, captured by their smile. "I wanna understand where you come from, y'know? Be able to celebrate the special days that are important to you. Share in your culture."

His fans hitched as their fingers traced the seams of his faceplates. How did they always make him feel so calm yet alive all at once? "So maybe lessons would help this fool bot out, huh?" Swerve ventured shyly. He nuzzled into their hand with a lovesick sigh. "I just want to be able to spend time with you doin things that are important, that's really all I want, sweetspark. To be wherever you are."

 "Alright, how about we set up your hab and watch some vids.?" They inquire with a sly smile on their face.

Swerve perked up, any trace of embarrassment melting away in his eagerness. His engine gave a happy rev, hope blooming in his spark. Clapping his servos together, he bounced on his pedes like an excited sparkling. "Oh frag yes, I'll fire up the holoprojector right away!" 

In an instant he had them swept into his arms, cradling them gently against his chassis as he strode off toward his berth. The gifts were forgotten in his joyful haste. "You're gon' teach me everything, sweetspark! Holidays, customs, what all those weird organic dishes are!" He nuzzled their cheek fondly as he walked.

________

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[desideriumwriter]

Hi,

So I thought about this idea where George comforts Y/N (his girlfriend) when she is on her period🥹

Thanks in advance!

Have a nice day!

Love, Annelies

lmao im writing this on my period, this is such a sweet concept! also i’ve always wondered how periods work in the wizarding world? are there pain numbing potions? does ibuprofen exist??? anyways, tysm for the request hope you enjoy! <3

wc: 855

navi | g.w. masterlist

Right now, dinner in the Great Hall is usually where you’d be, laughing and chatting with friends. However, today you were curled up in your bed, grimacing and holding onto your lower abdomen in pain.

What was just a dull ache an hour ago had now become excruciating cramps.

As soon as you got back from your last class, you changed into pajamas and sunk into your bed. The pain was gnawing at your insides. You shut your eyes and wished for the aching to magically be over.

The door creaked open, you sighed, not wanting any company, and when you turned your head towards the door. A mop of ginger hair peeked in.

“George? What’re you doing in here?” You lifted your head, looking at him with a confused expression.

“I was wondering the same thing, I was looking all over for you in the Great Hall.”

“You can't be in here, you know.” You muttered, you were already confused on how he was able to sneak out of the Great Hall and into the girls bedroom anyways.

“Says who?”

“When have I ever listened to those?” He scoffed playfully, you just smirked and shook your head, too exhausted to carry on a conversation.

“Why aren’t you at dinner anyways?” He said as he sat down next to you.

“I just don’t feel well.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. George’s brows knit in concern.

“You’re sick?” He asked, pressing a hand to your forehead.

“No, not really, just cramps.” You sighed, pulling his hand away and holding it instead.

George’s mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ shape, he took a second before he stuck his hand into his pockets.

“Well, um, I guess the chocolate I may or may not have taken from the table will come in handy, right?” He pulled a few wrapped up sweets from his pocket, handing one out to you.

“Chocolate helps with…you know?” It brought a small smile to your face seeing how awkward yet polite George was when talking about this.

“Periods.” You looked at him amused as you took a chocolate from his hand, unwrapping it and popping it into your mouth. “You can say the word, it’s not a curse.” Having it absolutely feels like it though.

Before George could say anything, another small stabbing pain shot through your abdomen, causing you to grimace and let out a small groan.

“Is there anything I can do?” You shook your head weakly. George frowned, in moments like these, all he wanted to do was help.

“Maybe you could just lay with me?” You suggested, nodding to the space behind you. George happily did as you asked.

If he couldn’t take away your pain, the least he could do was provide some type of comfort.

He shifted and snuggled up behind you, gently wrapping his arms around your torso and pulling your back to his chest. You let out another small groan at the movement, earning a small apology from George.

“Merlin, I wish there was a spell to get rid of this.” Your voice felt strained.

“Have you tried seeing Madam Pomfrey? Maybe she’s got a potion for this.” He said, placing his hands over yours.

“The most she can do is give me a hot wet rag.” You pouted.

“How long do the cramps last? An hour?”

“Usually almost a full day.” You said flatly, George lifted his head up to look at you.

“Are you serious?” He looked genuinely shocked, a bit horrified.

“Sometimes two if it’s bad.” You raised your brows and smiled, finding his wide eyes and knit together brows humorous.

“I’ll never complain again.” He said, you let out a weak chuckle as he placed a kiss onto your temple.

“You’re sure there’s nothing I can do for you?”

“You could create a sweet that gets rid of cramps.” You half-joked. George let out a small hum, laying his head back down.

“Well, that’d take a few test runs, and Fred and I don’t have…” He trailed off.

“Ovaries?” You finished the sentence for him, less explicit than what he was thinking.

“Yeah. Plus, I doubt any girls around here would be up for doing trial runs.” He tsked. “Maybe I could make a supply kit? A cramp crusade kit.” You began to chuckle.

“That’s what you’d call it? A cramp crusade kit?” You said through your laughter.

“Yeah! Not bad, isn't it?” He nodded from behind you, you could hear the smile in his voice.

“You’re ridiculous.” You shook your head in amusement. George being there didn’t actually take away any of the physical pain, but he did distract you from it.

After your laughter subsided, you grabbed his warm hands and placed them over the tender spots, you let out a small sigh of relief. The warmth was quite pleasant. Your back now felt less tense when you felt his chest rise and fall against it.

“Thanks George,” You breathed out as you closed your eyes. “for being here with me.” Your thumb brushed over his hand.

“Anything for you.” He grinned, pressing a kiss to hair.

tell me what you thought!

[after-witch]

Seeker [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: Seeker [Yandere Mahito x reader]

Synopsis: Mahito wants to play a game. Just a lil thing I had to write after Mahito's line about wanting to hunt down humans in the woods from the most recent JJK ep.

Word count: 2000ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, mentions of malnourishment, reader isn't having a good ol' time, mahito is his own warning

If you were prone to long bouts of deep thought in your current state of existence, you might ask yourself: How did it come to this? How did you go from an ordinary life of going to work, coming home, running errands, going to bed, going to work, coming home, running errands, going to bed, going to work--

To this? 

To being held captive by some unknowable cursed creature with a patchwork face and a penchant for wild, impulsive violence?

To being pinched and held and kissed at his whims, to being kept inside a crude cage at night with a nest of blankets as your only comfort? 

He had offered to let you sleep with him inside the hammock the first time you quietly asked if you could have a mattress, perhaps three weeks into your captivity, although your sense of time was no longer cohesive. But you thought about it (pressed so close to him, vulnerable, awkward, fumbling--) and shook your head, so he shrugged, grinning, and shut the door on your cage instead.)

You had only brought up the issue once more, pointing out that people slept on beds or mattresses, and if he was going to keep you then could you at least get something more comfortable than a few blankets on top of a metal cage bottom? 

And he’d simply tilted his head and said, in a tone that might be called innocent if the phrase wouldn’t have immediately evaporated in his vicinity--

“Huh?” He looked genuinely perplexed, and you remember the twisting feeling it created in your stomach to see such a human-like expression on  him. “But humans keep their pets in kennels, don’t they?” He had gestured towards the water bottle and bag of expired Family Size chips he’d thrown in your cage a few days prior, brows furrowed, voice petulant. “I even keep your food inside so you can eat when I’m gone! Most of them don’t do that!”  

You shut up, then, and you certainly didn’t ask him to elaborate on his referral to you as his pet.

You don’t ask for elaboration on much nowadays, because you’ve decided it’s often better not to know. It’s better not to know how he chooses the victims that he transforms into monsters. It’s better not to know how conscious they are, when their mouths form pleas and screams. It’s better not to know if you’ll ever end up like them, writhing and deformed. 

Except now, you are being hurled into a completely new situation that has every nerve in your body frayed and burning, and that need to know what the hell is happening grows stronger with every step.

He’s taken you out. Out of the drain and into the light--the brightness and softness of the outside world hurts as much as it provides a twisting sort of relief, competing furiously with the fear growing in your belly. 

And, more specifically, he’s dragged you into the forest. Off the marked paths, pulling you here and there like a ragdoll while you trip and stumble to keep up with him, all the while he intermingles assurances of how fun this will be (“You’ll love it, I promise~!”) with giggles that make your stomach lurch.

Until finally he stops, in the middle of the woods. It’s both familiar and unfamiliar; the droning chirps of insects looking for mates, the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze. Gnats buzz by your face but you’re too frightened to swat them away with your free hand, as Mahito has yet to release his grip on your wrist. He has yet to even turn around, instead looking around him--up and about, grinning, almost closing his eyes as if he’s forgotten that you’re there at all. 

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You have to know.

“Mahito?” Your voice cracks, dry from what little water you had today and the trek into the forest.

His eyes widen--like he’s just recalled your existence--and slowly, he turns his head towards you, a wide grin on his face.

“Ye-ee-es?” 

You grit your teeth. You try not to sound frustrated or heaven--not that you think it exists, anymore--forbid, look frustrated, because that usually doesn’t end well. 

“I was just…” You swallow, thick, and smile a little. “Wondering why we’re out here. Not--not that I’m complaining. It’s… really nice.”

He giggles. Which can be good or bad, and you’re not sure which of those two his current mood falls under yet.

And then he yanks your wrist, and pulls you close to him. You stumble against his chest, but he catches you, and keeps you still.

“We’re going to play a game.”

Oh. It was a bad giggle. At least for you.

“A… game?” You shouldn’t ask, you don’t want to know. But this isn’t the type of thing Mahito will let you close your eyes about, is it? 

There’s an awful giddiness in his voice as he continues.

“Yes! I read about it in a book. Oh!” He grins. “And I’ve seen kids playing it at playgrounds. It’s called tag.” He pauses, and then continues, as if explaining something remarkably patiently to a child. “One person is the seeker, and they seek the other person until they find them and tag them! And then that person is the seeker.”

He’s going to chase you. He’s going to chase you. He’s going to--

You wonder if the feeling of your nerves trying to leave your body through your feet can show on your soul. Probably, because Mahito reaches up and squishes your lips together with his fingers.

“Don’t worry! I’ll be the seeker first, so you don’t have to worry about not catching me.” He stretches his neck to one side and smiles, giving a satisfied sigh. “I’m so generous, right?” 

“Mahito,” you say, and you say his name again because he likes it when you do, “Mahito, I’m… not good at games like this. Wouldn’t you rather just have a picnic today? Or we could…” You look around, fumbling for something that doesn’t involve you running through the woods being chased by a monster.

He pouts. Honest-to-goodness pouts, puffing up his cheek, looking hurt and frustrated. 

And then he whirls you around and presses himself up against your back, and the silly pout has drained from his body and his voice as he whispers low in your ear, dark and tinged with something distinctly inhuman. 

“I’ll give you 60 seconds. That’s enough time, isn’t it, for a human like you?” You can feel goosebumps dotting the back of your neck, and you jolt when one of his fingers traces them on your skin. “Let’s see… how about we play for 5 minutes? And if I catch you, I get to play a different game with you! One you haven’t been letting me play…” 

Fear constricts your throat. You don’t ask what this ‘different’ game is because the thought of knowing might just make you vomit.

You already feel like you might, bile and fear sticky in your stomach. This is happening. It’s going to happen. You can’t stop it. 

He blows a puff of air in your ear, and the dark thread of tension has dissolved as he gives you a playful shove. You can hear the grin back in his voice. 

He claps once, twice, three times. 

“And… ready… set… go!” 

You propel yourself forward on shaky legs and malnourished muscles. How long has it been since you’ve run anywhere? Much less in the woods, wearing worn out shoes, with a curse who could do worse than kill you with a single touch just yards behind you. 

“Oh!” You hear his voice from behind you, distinct but growing fainter. “I’ll start counting, okay?”

You don’t answer--you couldn’t even if you wanted to, chest heaving and breath panting from exertion already--but keep putting your feet to the ground, desperate to put as much distance between you and Mahito in 60 seconds as you can.

“One… two…”

Should you run in a straight line for much longer? 

“Three… four…”

Maybe you should turn another way, and make it harder for him to reach you.

“Five… six…”

You might even be able to find somewhere to hide, right? The woods could have tree hollows or caves or something, anything, that could give you some cover. You could wait out the 5 minutes in hiding, rather than trying to run.

“Seven… eight… nine…”

Your brain makes your decision for you, and you veer off to the left, keeping your legs pumping as fast as you can. His voice is getting fainter with every second counted, which must mean you’re making the right choice.

“Ten.”

Your body jerks itself back just as Mahito appears in front of you, hands on his hips, a sly grin on his face.

“Found you!”

Your legs stumble back, a weak attempt to turn and run, but he grabs your wrists and keeps you from getting anywhere. It’s not fair. It’s not--

You shake your head and feel the anger coming despite your fear and heaving chest and his firm grip on your wrists. 

“You… you said you’d give me sixty seconds! That was only ten!”

Mahito shakes his own head, soft hair falling over his shoulders. “Mm… I said I’d give you sixty seconds, and I am! You’ve got mmm…” He considers, tilting his head. “40 seconds left or so.” 

What is he talking about? You furrow your eyebrows. “But you… you said you’d give me a 60 second head start.”

He blinks at you, and you hate how he can look so innocent, despite everything. You hate even more that you’re never entirely sure when he’s being genuinely naive or pretending. “Nuh-uh. I didn’t say I wouldn’t run in those 60 seconds, too, just that you had 60 seconds. You really ought to pay attention when someone’s explaining the rules of a game!” 

He grins foolishly at you and all you can do is tug at your wrists, hoping he’ll either make a mistake and let go or get bored of holding you and let you try to run for it again. But he does neither, simply keeping a firm grip on you while you pull and pull, feet digging into the ground. 

Useless. Stupid. Weak.

The tears come, then. Ugly and hot, making your face squish and your lips curl even as you continue to uselessly pull against his grip. You were never going to get away and he knew it and you knew it, too, but did he have to make it so cruel? 

“Th-th…this isn’t fair,” you choke out, your tears thickening your voice. 

Mahito does release one wrist, then, but only so he can wipe at your tears roughly with his thumb and lick it afterwards. 

“D-D-Don’t be a spoilsport,” he coos. Then he sighs, happy and content, like a cat who has gotten all the cream and more. “60 seconds is up, and I’ve still got you so… I win!”

He pulls on your wrist then, bringing you close to his chest. 

“That means you have to play what I want to play now, okay?”

You look into his mismatched eyes and you’re terrified of what you find. 

He leans forward and rubs his nose against your cheek, humming happily.

“You’ll like this one, I think.” You can feel his smile against your cheek, the upward tug of his muscles. “Although I can’t make any promises!” 

You don’t ask what game he wants to play now. 

Sometimes, it’s better not to know. 

[finalvortex]

Completely overanalysing Shadow Generations: Dark Beginnings Episode 1

The opening is a deliberate parallel to the scene leading into Maria's death (images taken here from Shadow '05, although this scene is also in SA2). If you're paying attention you can immediately tell it's a fakeout, though: there's no alarm blaring, the lighting is blue rather than red, and Maria is pulling Shadow along instead of the other way around.

It's the aurora borealis. You can only see them from certain latitudes down there, but up here, we can see the whole...

Maria's a nerd.

Shadow is immediately prepared to catch Maria when she collapses.

The low gravity here only keeps your condition in remission. You should know better than to exert yourself.

This is new information I think? I don't think this makes scientific sense but I guess it provides a justification for why Maria is up here aboard the ARK beyond 'that's where the research is being done'. Only, the ARK was a space colony, there were other civilians aboard it as well, like the future GUN commander.

I can't wait for the day when we can finally return. I was created here. I don't know if there's a place for me on Earth.

I just wanted to highlight this exchange as significant to Shadow's overall character arc across his history, being one where he has carved out a place for himself on earth.

Love the way Maria comforts shadow here.

You and grandfather are doing your best. I'm just as happy to spend time with you here, while you both research-

I think this is just awkward wording, but surely Shadow isn't doing any researching?

My boyyyy

Hull breach in the experimental weapons wing! Multiple subjects are free of containment!

Multiple subjects? Given the events of Lost Impact, things are just escaping from here all the time, huh.

Here's the entries on this incident from Gerald's journal in Sonic Battle:

The higher ups are threatening to shut down this research facility. I had no choice but to hand them the Gizoid to buy more time for my research. I tried to be careful and commanded it to never absorb any dangerous technologies. However, I have heard that other researchers have been making the Gizoid absorb weapons. Apparently, the way to cause the Gizoid to form a new "Link" is to show it power that surpasses that of its former master. While this poses immense danger, I cannot risk losing Maria.

My worst fears have come true. The Gizoid has absorbed enough weaponry and technology that it has started to go out of control. The resulting rampage resulted in the destruction of most of the "Ark." ... I have deciphered the rest of the stone tablet. It says, "When the Gizoid had learned all that it could, it became a god of wrath, and all was destroyed." The researchers somehow managed to subdue the Gizoid and sealed it away.

That robot was heading towards Grandfather's lab! Shadow, you have to save him!

Why was Emerl - uh, well, I guess Project Gizoid at this point - headed directly for Gerald? If he was overloaded with power, like at the end of Sonic Battle, he should just be destroying things indiscriminately, right? So... was this a deliberate ploy by GUN to get rid of Gerald?

Maria grabbing Shadow's hand breaks the illusion briefly and triggers a trauma-induced flashback (forward?) to the GUN soldier shooting her. Compare with the actual scene from Shadow '05:

Again, why is Emerl specifically targeting Gerald here?

Not much to say about the fight scene aside from the fact that it's really well animated, and it happens with no background music to emphasize the weight of the blows being thrown. It's also really cool how Emerl copies Shadow's spin attack - you don't need to know how the Gizoid functions for that to be a cool visual, but it's a nice nod if you do.

Ok this is really confusing me. Is there any mention of GUN having a space fleet anywhere? Where did these things come from? They don't even share the same aesthetic as other GUN vehicles, they look more like the Egg Fleet.

Nice look at Shadow's Air Shoes from below the glass floor.

Next Shadow lands into Gerald's cell on Prison Island, which raises the question: why is this in Shadow's memories? Is this just his memory of the recording from SA2? Or was Shadow not put on ice until after Gerald's execution? We know it wasn't immediately after the ARK was destroyed, since he was around long enough for Gerald to alter his memories.

There is a bit of static distortion here, with an analog effect that implies it might just be the video.

On the other hand, we actually get these very brief flashes of Gerald's execution here, which we don't see in SA2 itself.

The professor gets farther and farther away from Shadow. He can no longer reach him.

Shadow then falls into a red sky, with bits of debris floating all around him, reflecting the final battle against Devil Doom in Shadow '05.

Interestingly, this scene is mixing imagery from both Gerald and Maria's deaths. The image of the GUN soldiers is the firing line that killed Gerald, and the sound of the lightning turns into automatic gunfire, as opposed to the single pistol shot that killed Maria.

Finally, Shadow falls into the giant face and outstretched hands of Black Doom.

Waking up from his nightmare in a panic, Shadow uses that damn fourth chaos emerald* to Chaos Spear this unfortunate tree.

*Okay, the fourth chaos emerald was the white one.

The moon looks so good.

Shadow stands in a field surrounded by lilies, a flower which can be used to symbolise purity as well as death, and is a flower commonly used at funerals. In particular, they are often placed on the graves of children.

That was no mere nightmare. And it all began in view of the ARK. Could he have survived? No, that can't be. I need answers.

Shadow seems to think the sight of the ARK is what triggered this nightmare. I think the only 'he' that makes sense here is Black Doom, since Gerald and Emerl are both pretty definitively dead.

Based on the trailer, I think from here Shadow is going to collect Team Dark to raid an Eggman base so they can obtain a rocket to get up to the ARK.

The song that plays over the credits is a remix of Throw it All Away. I have no idea why it shows footage of the biolizard fight, beyond "this is the Sonic Adventure 2 focused episode".

[the-fo0l]

Micheal Scofield dating hcs

notes: it's criminal crazy kooky insane how little content there is for this show

warnings: gn reader, s1 lore, super soft fluff!!!! also idc if u think its out of charater let me be delulu

he's so babygirl

a very devoted boyfriend (im pretty sure i say that in all my hcs but its true!!)

just so soft and polite and gentle with you aaaaa

doesn't notice just how hard he's fallen for you until he has to be apart from you a long while

such a gentleman, his intentions towards you are always respectful

before you we're offical he had quite the crush on you

sometimes you could notice that cool, calm, witty demeanor of his becoming more bashful and jittery around you

daydreamed a lot about you and your potential future together. what it'd be like to live with you, to start the day by your side, how you'd show affection, how you'd express diffrent emotions, what you'd talk about, your niche interests and quirks— etc

slightly creepy but he did do a bit of research on you to make sure he hit it off with you as best as he could

always says good night and good morning, over text if not in person

just imagine waking up, still cuddling, but with a little distance so he can properly take in your sleepy morning face

him just gazing at you so lovingly, his gentle smile growing a little bigger seeing you open your eyes, then moving one hand from your waist to caress your cheek and murmur "good morning" with his sultry morning voice

GOOD LORDDD

he developed a new-found love for his job when you two started dating cause thanks to it he can properly provide for you

and provide he does

doesn't think you should have to work a day in your life (unless you wanted to)

he'd hate for you to stay at a job you're miserable at

super proud of you for all your accomplishments

when you have to seperate while walking to avoid something in the street, be immediately reaches back to interwine your fingers again

expresses all love languages in some way but 'acts of service' is his main one

amazing at gift giving and romantic gestures

just when you think he can't possibly out-do last year's anniversary/birthday gift he suprises you with something super elaborate and meaningful

absent-mindedly makes origami flowers for you at work. you'll also find them all over your apartment, some hidden, some in plain sight

at some point he started writing messages on them. some with the most loving praise you've ever heard and some w cheesy pickup lines

p.s. he grins ear to ear when he finds out you've got a special box for them all instead of throwing them away

when you're both still a little tired in the morning, or when either of you comes home after a long day, he peppers delicate kisses all over your face, ending with a deeper kiss to your lips

your touch just makes all the headaches of his day-to-day melt away

also takes both your hands and kisses your knuckles while looking at you with all the love and admiration in the world god lord

okay enough with the kissing!

always opens doors for you

compliments you often, and always uses words like stunning or beautiful instead of "hot

loves making you flustered with praise

he's an amazing listener, and he looooves listening to you talk

also, he's quite intense with the eye-contact

he thinks you're the most gorgeos person in the world what can i say

it might seem like he's not paying attention sometimes cause of how lost-in-your-eyes he seems but i assure you he remembers every little thing you say

nods along and hums a little to let you know he's listening

"i remember you said you liked this, so i got it for you" typa guy

you're happy = he's happy

will often sometimes call you to talk about nothing really important, more just for the sake of hearing your voice

and if you're not much of a talker that's fine too, the silent moments you share are never awkward

he's canonically super observant, so if you changed anything about your apperance or if you were in a bad mood he'd notice right away, even if you tried to hide it

great at comfort too, that silky-smooth voice of his knows exactly what to say

he's a very handsome guy (i mean cmon just look at him) so he tends to get hit-on quite a bit

he'd always brushed it off before but ever since he set his sights on you he's been very adamant on very clearly and quickly rejecting others' attempts

when he was making plans to break linc out of prison, a huge amount of his focus went to making sure you were kept safe during the whole process

having you be there from him after news broke and after linc got the death sentence already meant so much to him

so when he trusted you the broad strokes of his plan, and you supported him??? ohmygod this man fell in love with you all over again

yes, he was worried, but he had to tell you, spending days obsessing over prison schematics and getting full body tattoos is rather hard to hide from the love of your life after all

granted, he could have broken up with you and tried to rekindle after he'd escaped, but be fr he could never bring himself to dump you

you never know what may go wrong, and his love for you wasn't exactly a secret, so he took every precaution he could (as in like if someone wanted to harm you cause of your association with him)

he was still super anxious to let go of you

gave you the most passionate and desperate kiss before he went to prison

gets really really homesick for you

calls you whenever he can

would sometimes get teary-eyed from how hard he misses you before falling asleep in his bunk

would lose his mind if something didn't go according to his carefully constructed plan and put you at risk, cause there's not much he can do to control what happens outside foxriver. if t-bag ever found out about you he'd. freak. out.

he's willing to go to great lengths for the people he cares about (it's like the whole plot of the show), so you'd better not play w his beloved

on the rare occasions he has down-time in prison his thoughts always go to you and what you might be up to

he's surrounded by murderers daily and has the gall to be worried about you

sucre would pester him about his love-life a lot. insisting that he recognized yearning in michael's distant expression and saying that no single man could've helped him woo maricruz with that letter (michael writes love letters for you too)

sucre does eventually pull it out of michael and becomes just the biggest supporter of your relationship

this was kinda messy huh

[illyrian-dreamer]

Congratulations on 500 darling!!!!!!!! Can I please request 30 with azriel? Thank youuuuuuu 🤍🤍🤍🤍

Confessions at Starfall

Azriel x Reader one shot

Summary: It's the night of Starfall, and you're hopelessly in love with the Shadowsinger. When Azriel keeps flirting with Elain, you're pushed to your final limits.

HELLO AND WELCOME TO DAY 1 OF 5 FOR 500!

Thank you @cityofidek for requesting 30 - Unrequited love/pushing loved one away.

Warnings: None.

Words: 3,048

--------

It was the night of Starfall, and you were utterly miserable. 

Sitting at the dining table with your family, the rest of the inner circle exchanged jokes and light-hearted conversations as plates of steaming roasts, vegetables and pies were passed around. While it was usually your favourite holiday – the night ahead promising dancing and celebration, you were feeling far from festive. 

It had everything to do with the male you loved, who sat across from you now, dotting over Elain Archeron. His eyes rarely left her, and you would know, because yours rarely left him. You noted the way he sat, his body tilted slightly in her direction, his wings folded back to make provide her more space to move. To the untrained eye, it wouldn't look like much – but for Azriel this spoke volumes. 

That was the kind of detail you had learned to read over the past year. It had been twelve excruciating months since you had realised your own feelings for the Shadowsinger. Gone was the comfortable friendship you two shared – instead it was quickly replaced with blushing, timidness and uncontrollable awkwardness, all thanks to you. And while you once held out hope that Azriel might notice, or even return your feelings, overtime your friendship had drifted – pushing him further into the arms of the middle Archeron sister. 

Elain made you seethe with jealousy. It wasn’t her fault, she was nice really, all be it a bit simple. But she had a way about her, like a doe-eyed fawn their first steps. It made you uncontrollably angry the way people would line up to help her, especially the males. Not to mention her undeniable beauty. You knew she and Azriel made a very handsome couple. 

So you sat here tonight, marking every bit of attention the Spymaster gave Elain, longing for him to look at you the way he did her. Jealousy didn't even begin to cover it. 

“Y/N?”

You blinked, not realising Azriel was speaking to you even though you had stared off straight in his direction. You coughed, straightening in you seat. “Sorry, pardon?” Your heart beat at the thought he might have started a conversation with you. 

“Can you pass the potatoes?”

Your heart dropped, and you tried to hide the disappointment on your face. Of course he wasn't interested in talking to you, he hadn't in weeks. Without replying, you passed over the dish, reaching straight for the white potatoes instead of the orange kind. Azriel didn't like how sweet they were, and you knew that. It was the kind of detail you remembered about someone when you’re hopelessly in love.

“Ooh, can I please have the sweet potatoes?” Elain chirped. “They’re my favourite.” Of course the sweetest female in all of Prythian liked yams the most. You had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. You passed the dish over silently, and watched Azriel load up his plate with those too. It took everything you had to stop the scowl that twitched at your eyes. 

You pushed your fork and knife to the centre of your plate, suddenly having lost your appetite. 

————

The luminescent glow of the stars shooting above had been going for over an hour, and the party was in full swing. You breathed in, letting the magnificent sight lighten your heart the way they did the night sky. 

Gathered on a large marble terrace of Rhys and Feyre’s river home, almost a hundred guests had come in fine gowns and suits to celebrate the event. 

Wearing a dress of midnight blue that sparkled with night, you laughed lightheartedly as Cassian and Nesta joked with you, champagne in hand. The musicians at the base of the terrace reclaimed their seats, raising their instruments and beginning a new set of elegant melody. 

“I hope you don’t mind Y/N, but I must show off my mates dancing,” he winked at you before offering his hand to Nesta. She smiled, placing a delicate hand atop of his, nodding to you before being lead to the dance floor. 

Couples now twirled and stepped in unison, the sight almost as magical as the sky above. You felt a large presence slide beside you, and your heart fluttered as shadows caught the corner of your eye. 

“Are you enjoying your night?” Azriel had finally come to spend some time with you. 

“Of course,” you lied, smiling softly as you gulped the rest of your champaign, earning a slight raise of Azriel’s brow. “And yourself?”

Azriel nodded. “It’s as beautiful as always.”

“Yes, it is.” You couldn't help but stare straight into his hazel eyes, your heart lurching as your words hung with double meaning. Ask me to dance, you begged in your head. We dance every year on Starfall, c’mon, just ask me. If Azriel was paying any attention, he would have read your pleading gaze. But he wasn’t, of course, because his eyes fell beyond you, at the pretty Archeron who wore a gown of delicate blush. 

You looked down, suddenly overwhelmed with insecurity as you smoothed the ripples in your dress. Of course he didn't like you – you looked like a witch of death compared to the femininity that blossomed from Elain. 

“You look quite beautiful tonight.”

Your heart leaped. Your anger from earlier quickly vanished as you breathed in to thank Azriel, already blushing. But as you looked up, your heart immediately sank as you realised Azriel wasn't complimenting you at all, but rather Elain, who had made her way over. 

It felt much like being punched in the gut.

Your mouth was dry as you silently watched Azriel offer her an arm, her petite hand slipping through as he guided her to the dance floor. 

That felt much like being kicked in the gut while you were down.

You couldn't help the steady flow of tears that now stained your cheeks, or the broken crumple that formed on your face. Unable to withstand any more blows, you fled the party.

————

Slumped against the frame of a large window, your body shook with cries so hard they fell silent. You didn't care if it was the most special night of the year, you had never felt more abandoned, underserving and unloved. 

You were crying too hard to hear the footsteps that trudged up to the lookout room you were hiding in, and you didn't hear the faint knock at the door. It wasn't until Cassian placed a gentle hand on your shoulder that you noticed his presence, his face soft with concern as he crouched next to you. 

You blinked back at him, your vision completely blurred by your tears. You were broken and there was no hiding it. 

“I love him, Cas,” you sobbed, your voice break halfway through as a cry shook through your body again. 

“Oh, Y/N,” Cassian said softly, his voice full of understanding as he immediately embraced you. You flung yourself to him, wrapping your arms around his solid waist as he rocked and stroked your hair. You weren't surprised that Cassian knew, anyone could have noticed months of hopeless pining and one-sided puppy love.

You continued to cry, your voice muffle by the embrace. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing Y/N! There’s not a thing wrong with you.”

“Then why doesn't he love me?”

“Because he’s a damn fool.”

You sniffed against his chest, trying to regain yourself. “But he loves her.”

Cassian sighed, the strokes on your hair pausing for just a moment. “I’m not sure that’s true.”

“Of course he does. She’s perfect.” Jealousy was not a good colour on you, but you were unsuccessful at hiding the bite in your words. 

Cassian drew back, levelling his eyes to yours. “I know it hurts right now doll, but I promise, any male that doesn't see you for the beautiful, intelligent and fiery bombshell you are, is an outright imbecile. Even if it is my own brother.”

You chuckled at that, shaking your head as you gently wiped the makeup your were sure had stained under your eyes. “Thank you Cass,” you whispered, reaching for his hands tightly. He stood now, leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead. 

“Will you come back to the party with me?”

You forced a fake smile, but shook your head. “I happiest up here. Thank you though Cass, I mean it.”

Cassian nodded, throwing a tight smile of sympathy before ducking out of the room. 

You paced to the other side of the viewing room to the window facing the terrace below where celebrations continued. Dresses of all colours fanned against the marble of the terrace, the music flowing up to the height of the room. And the stars, Gods they were beautiful. 

You saw Cassian rejoin Nesta, his arms snaking around her waist as they admired the view. Next to them were your High Lord and Lady, and beside them, a dress of pale blush. Your heart stung with envy at the site of Elain, and you narrowed your eyes as you scanned the crowd for Azriel. 

“Y/N?”

You jumped, whirling on the spot to find Azriel sheepishly standing in the doorway. 

You cleared your throat, quickly wiping under your eyes again. He had hurt you, broken you without even knowing it. You straightened your spine – the least you could do was have your pride. 

“Are you ok? Cassian said you left the party.”

You nodded tightly, not trusting yourself to speak. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The words flew out of your mouth too quickly. 

Azriel frowned, stepping through the door towards you. You stiffened, drawing one step back. “Go back to the party Azriel,” you said tightly.

“Have you been crying?”

You scowled. How dare he note that detail when he was the one who caused it. “Don’t pretend to care,” you spat. Gone was the ache in your heart from moments ago. Seeing Azriel here now, it was quickly replaced with fiery hurt.

“What?” Azriels brow was now contort with confusion as he reached for you. You stepped back again, your arms folding over your chest.

“Why are you angry with me?”

“How can you ask that?”

“Is it because we’ve been distant lately?” So he did have some clue after all. You didn't answer, instead breaking from the intensity of his stare, your eyes focusing outside as glowing spirits that shot past the other side of the window.

“Listen, I know I haven't been around much, or maybe it’s that we haven't spent time together lately. But things have been difficult between us for a while now Y/N. I can't help but feel you’re pushing me away.”

A scoff escaped you before you could stop it. “I’m pushing you away?!”

“Yes!” He exclaimed, his hands outstretched. “For months now. You don't open up to me like you used to, every time I look at you, you look away, and you never suggest spending anytime together.”

You blinked at him, biting your lip as you tried to process what he had said. You hadn’t realised that in an attempt to burry your feelings for Azriel, you had actually pushed him away. 

“Tell me, what have I done?” Azriel’s voice was pleading as he stepped closer.

“You haven't done anything,” your voice was barely a whisper, and you were unable to meet his eyes. You had stepped away so he could explore his feelings for Elain, that was your truth. But when was the last time he made an effort for you? “But you can't pretend like you’ve been trying either, Azriel.”

He sighed then, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re right, I’m sorry ok? I’ll make more of an effort from here on.”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes again as you blinked quickly, casting your gaze sideways yet again. You couldn't tell him – it would ruin everything.

For once, Azriel caught on to how upset you were. “You’re still angry with me?”

“Gods, Az! I wish I was angry!”

The male blinked at you before frustration overtook. “Well perhaps you could stop talking in riddles, and actually tell me what’s wrong!” he gritted.

You let out a quick breath, shaking your hands as you blinked upwards, trying your best to stop the tears that welled. “I can’t,” you whispered. It would kill you to say it, and it would kill everything you two had. 

Azriel’s gaze softened when he saw how tortured you were. Uncrossing his arms, he walked over, cupping the side of your face. “You can tell me anything, Y/N. Just tell me, what’s going on?”

His hazel eyes scanned your face, begging you to open up. But there was so much at stake here, and even if you confessed, you knew his heart lay with Elain. 

You shook your head, moving out of his hold. “If you can’t see it for yourself Azriel, I don't know what to tell you.”

Azriel frowned. “You’re speaking in riddles again.” 

You threw your hands up in defeat. “Perhaps I am,” you sighed, suddenly drained of any energy you had left. “Listen, I’m exhausted. Please Az, just enjoy the rest of your night, ok?”

“I’ll walk you to your room.”

“No,” you said too quickly. Guilt struck you at the twinge of hurt on Azriel’s face. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” Your voice was tight, and you quickly turned your heel, leaving Azriel still and silent as he watched you leave.

These feelings – these stupid, foolish, unrequited feelings. They hurt you and everyone involved, and you hated yourself for it. It was obvious Azriel didn’t return your affection, so why did you have to drag him down and cause a scene? You needed to do better, needed to push your love for him down, burry it in the depths of your heart so it would no longer get in his way. 

————

You were in your room for barely an hour before there was a forceful knock on your door. You jumped, pulling down the length of your silk night slip as you spoke out loud. “Who is it?”

You door flew open then, Azriel’s large frame filling the entrance as he stepped inside, his expression wild, with another emotion you couldn't quite place. His wings were outstretched, and you could tell he had winnowed here hurriedly as his chest heaved with quick breaths.

Shocked, your eyes darted over him in panic. “Azriel, what –?”

Azriel stalked towards you, closing the distance as he towered over you.

“You love me?”

You gawked, your eyes moving back and forth as you tried to connect the dots. “Who–?”

“You love me?”

Cassian. You gritted your teeth and your fists clenched. How could he share something so private? 

“No! I mean, yes, I mean, I have feelings for–”

“You, love, me…” he repeated, slower this time. It was no longer a question.

Your body burned in shame – you needed air. Pushing the double doors to your private balcony open, you grasped the railing as you tried to breath deep. Azriel was right on your tail.

“Az, I’m sorry. I’ll get over you. I promise. These feelings, they’re— they’re only temporary, I swear. I—I’ll get over you–”

Azriel bought a single scarred finger to your lips, hushing you instantly. You swallowed, panic in your eyes as they darted between his hazel ones, trying to read his reaction. As per usual, Azriel’s face was unreadable, the only movement was the gold that swirled within them. 

“How long have you loved me?” he asked, his voice cold as ice. You felt as if you were tied to a chair, under his interrogation. 

“Twelve months,” you whispered against his finger, your cheeks stinging in shame. 

Azriel raised his brows. “So for a whole year, you have loved me, without so much as a thought to share that information?”

Your frowned in confusion. “I had no plans on telling you, Azriel. I didn't want to get in your way. You and Elain–”

“What of Elain and I?”

You levelled a look at him now. “C’mon Az, its clear you have affections for her.”

“You have no idea how I feel.” There was a bite to his words, something you weren't used to from the Shadowsinger. “I am a friend to Elain, because her transition as fae has been difficult. I enjoy her company, that’s true. But I am there to support her as my High Lady’s sister, and a member of our family. If I am someone she can trust, someone she can open up to, I will be there to support her.”

You sighed. “I understand that Az, but–”

The finger returned to your lips, cutting you off. “That does not mean –” Azriel drawled, his voice low, almost dangerous. “– that I have affections for her.” He was dancing with your emotions, using them against you to teach you a lesson.

You blinked back at him, your heart fluttering with realisation before denial quickly took over. “You love her,” you whispered, more to yourself, refusing to believe the dynamics you had built in your head were an embellishment of your own idiocy. 

“I do not.”

“You do.”

“I do not.” Azriel’s voice was a growl now.

He moved in closer, and your heart began to thunder. The finger against your lip fell to cup your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. Azriel’s eyes swirled with dominance, his expression almost predatory as shadows danced between you. He leaned in close, his fresh scent filling your nose as his lips were now mere inches from your own. 

“I have affections for someone else,” he said huskily. “One might even say I love her, for many years now.”

It took all that you had not to gawk. Instead, you kept your eyes on his. “Don’t mock,” you replied, your voice a half gasp as you tried to control your breathing. 

Azriel’s mouth pulled into a smirk. “I’m not mocking.”

You flicked your gaze to his lips, then back up to his eyes, your expression bewildered and completely uncool. 

“Azriel–” was all you got out before he closed his lips over yours, his arms snaking around your waist as he dipped you back, kissing you as the stars continued to fall around you.

--------

AN: I just want to say another HUGE thank you to anyone who's been following along with my fics, you mean the world to me <3 I hope you liked this story, I would love to hear any feedback you have. Please take care, and comment if you'd like to join any of my tag lists ✨:)

Tag list:@kennedy-brooke @cosmic-whispers @jazmin2211 @psychobookaholic @fieldofdaisiies

[sugarbcnes]

✿ ༉‧₊ — 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝. ellie williams

very random things i associate with ellie/think ellie would love in a non-apocalyptic world (hc’s). [ contains: femme reader mentioned, nsfw, sfw, mentions of drugs. ]

MUSEUMS AND AQUARIUM DATES — nerd alert! we all know ellie loves space and dinosaurs and things like that. her heart feels so full when you’re gripping her hand tightly as you both take your time strolling to each exhibition and display. she’s too engrossed in the small info boards to notice your eyes glimmering and softening as you take in the smile she fails to hide as she gets excited. even at 19 years old, as you spend your one year anniversary at the history museum, she still wows in awe as you walk into the room that contains the massive brachiosaurus skeleton.

JAW KISSES — ellie’s great at hiding how she feels most of the time. apart from when you kiss her jaw. the moment she feels your lips press to the soft skin that clings to the sharp bone of her jaw, she melts. her hands sneak around your waist as you nestle into her neck and pepper kisses all over her jaw, burning deep crimson on her freckled cheeks. “mm baby” she’ll mumble if you nip the skin lightly, causing her to let out the sweetest, soft little breaths.

HOUSE PLANTS — they’re an absolute nightmare for her to take care of at first but after a while, she grows emotionally attached to them. she specifically loves monsteras and ferns, even going as far to name them. she has a small smile on her lips as she reaches the part of her morning routine where she provides them with their extra delicate care. you can’t help but giggle from the kitchen as you hear her mumble “good morning fernado, you’re extra bright this morning” to her favorite fern.

RECORD STORES — she loves bobbing her head to the music and weirdly enough, the smell. it’s nostalgic somehow.

STICKERS AND CUSTOMIZATION DOODLES — pretty self explanatory. ellie loves to cover her shit in random stickers and doodles. her laptop, her water bottle, her sketchbook, her guitar. she has the same design as her tattoo painted on her guitar (it took her forever to do and she did it instead of completing an overdue assignment).

SHOWER SEX — it started with the soft, butterfly kisses you’d splurge across ellie’s freckled shoulder blades before you grabbed the soap to scrub her back. eventually she began to press you against the wall, kissing you deeply as the warm water hits you, hands exploring your bare, wet body. (100% is obsessed with soapy boobies too)

POST SWIM NAPS — summer on the farm means sweltering heat. nearly everyday you and ellie trek across the fields and spend all day swimming in the creek by the woods. sun kissed and hot, the both of you collapse in bed in nothing but a tshirt and your underwear, cuddled and falling into a slumber until later that evening when it’s cooler.

GRAPHIC TEES — it’s a strange obsession and she’ll hardly know what’s on the shirt but she accumulates a massive collection.

ESSENTIAL OILS — she thought they were tacky and useless at first until she got a diffuser as a birthday gift and was knocked straight into such a peaceful slumber by her soothing lavender oil.

FOLLOWING YOU INTO FITTING ROOMS — again, self-explanatory. we all know she’s awkward and very much the loser-lesbian girlfriend. so the first time you take her shopping with you, she moves to sit on the provided seats outside the fitting rooms. she’s just as confused as you are as you stand with the door half open and your collection of clothes in your arm. you tilt your head “are you not coming in?”. she fumbles to get up and rushes in. at first she was awkward, head down at the very second you’d take your tshirt off and mentally cursing herself as she peaks at you in the mirror from the corner of her eye. now, your full-fledged girlfriend, she’s got her hands grabbing at every sliver of bare skin she can see before you annoyedly swat her hands away.

LATE NIGHT SESH — it’s usually when she’s feeling anxious, escaping to the roof to smoke a little and talk to the stars. most of the time she goes alone but sometimes you go with her. you usually sit in comfortable silence, pressed against eachother as she smokes and you try your best to keep your eyes awake at 3am because even though she assures “go back to bed, sweetheart. i’ll be okay,” you don’t want her to be alone.

part 2? abby version?

[ms--lobotomy]

“How much prep time do you think I’ll need to take on a bear?”

I only have this kind of requests/questions, I’m sorry

-🪿

Hi Anon! Don't be sorry, I love these requests. Mailbox open specifically for you btw

LION EL'JONSON- You need to repeat the question because he just stares at you. "Three." "Three what?" Refuses to elaborate. ???- So busy prepping that they died. FULGRIM- "How much prep time?" he asks. You can tell that he's trying to avoid the question, so you ask it again. "I would rather engage one of my brothers in a duel." Bastard. PERTURABO- "Let me prep instead," he says, mainly because he really wants to build some complex machinery to catch the bear. You refuse, but he helps with the prepping anyways. Gives you no answer on how much time it would take. JAGHATAI KHAN- "A better question would be how much time the bear needs to take on yourself." Knows how often you get up to this bullshit, and knows how you aren't fucking around. LEMAN RUSS- Surprisingly honest in his response, if not completely wrong. Goes into detail on how you could take on a bear, but assumes you are as stupidly powerful as a Primarch. ROGAL DORN- "You are not going to fight a bear." There is an awkward silence between you two before you reveal that you were planning to do it whether he liked it or not. He sighs and overestimates the time you'd need. KONRAD CURZE- Giving the most deranged grin you've ever seen, he says "None." There is blood in his teeth. SANGUINIUS- He puts a gentle hand on your head. "You do not need to prep. I can take care of it for you." You have to explain to him that no, you want this, you crave bear violence. FERRUS MANUS- "It depends on how well you prep," he shrugs. Offers to help build you weaponry for your bear escapades. You are now in posession of a sword as tall as you are. ???- Turned into a bear. Run! ANGRON- "Absolutely none," he grins. Ready to take on a bear at a moment's notice, and if you're close to him, you probably are as well. Glorious melee combat is glorious melee combat, bear or not. ROBOUTE GUILLIMAN- Sighs. "This again?" Thinks for a minute before giving you an honest answer. Offers to provide paperwork to prove that you can take on a bear. MORTARION- Stares at you for a minute before you realize that he's thinking. "I wouldn't do it if I were you, but I know there's no stopping you." Tells you that you need more time than you actually do. MAGNUS THE RED- "What planet do you plan on fighting the bear on?" he asked. "Do you have any methods for doing so?" Needs to know more, more about what you plan on doing before answering. HORUS LUPERCAL- Quirks an eyebrow at you. "You really won't leave these poor animals alone?" he chides lightheartedly. Gives a throwaway answer again. LORGAR- Lectures you on how important bears are to the planet's ecosystem and why it is a bad idea to take on an apex predator in the first place. You ignore him. VULKAN- "You're not taking it on without any help." Forges you some armor that's surprisingly light. Doesn't want you to get hurt in this debacle. CORVUS CORAX- "I don't know, maybe an hour?" When it comes time for you to take on the bear, though, Corvus comes out of the void and scares the bear away. Asshole. ALPHARIUS- "Huh?" May have already begun prepping to fight the bear. May be planning to sic a bear on you. Run.

[lilac-den]

Ok. So... You know that the fandom exist an au call Actor AU right? If the TSR ROs are all actors, how would they be?

A...Actor AU...? 😶 I'm not gonna lie, I am so clueless on this part. But from what I looked up, it tells of characters actually being actors who play in a movie, series, etc...?

So if u mean how the ROs are like if they were actors of TSR... 🤔 I'll answer, but I can imagine the casts all becoming pretty good friends cuz of how well the chemistry is.

Maverick: Still pretty stone-faced/hard to read but by then, his fellow cast members (mainly Rydigan, Ittania, Enid and MC) would have catch hints of how to read him. His parents r still horrible, but in the Actor AU, they're probably separated and he has already cut ties from them.

In his romance tho, he would probably stare at MC a lot, side-eying and taking glances. The crew would probs comment how Maverick is a lot more intense and focused when its scenes between just him and MC...

Rydigan: Even off screen, he's the life of the party and the one who remembers each and every crew members' names. If it isn't his charming smile people fawn for, it's his cheery personality. Wouldn't surprise me if he got the acting gig cuz he was scouted randomly on the street. He's also the one who would probs suggest hanging out together, cementing the bond between the little group.

In his romance, he would try to chat with MC and the crew would note how Rydigan just instinctively knew which direction MC comes from or when MC would arrive on set.

Ittania: She's the one most excited about the role - it's her first big role, but she has done a lot of voice acting and cameo/background roles. Lots of people sees her as a cool, big sister type while others can't help but notice her due to the energy she radiates. Some of the crew and her agency are a little protective tho, given her naive and oblivious nature.

In her romance, she'd be the first one putting an arm around MC's shoulder and greeting her really casually and closely. She'd want to hang out with MC and even ask them if they're down to practice their lines together to better prepare the scenes they have together. Might ask MC if they want to do some voice acting with her too, like a collab.

Enid: She's a very high-demand actress. The crew are surprised the directors and producers even managed to get her to accept the role offer. She's very diligent and doesn't like to make mistakes. She's a bit tough to befriend, but Maverick, Rydigan and Ittania got through her icy exterior. With MC, she'd thought MC might just be a newbie who got lucky until she had a scene with them or she saw how they acted out the scene of the Prologue (the one with the apartment). She's impressed by how much anguish MC managed to act and thus, her opinion of them improved (she refuses to admit that this was the moment she started being their fan).

In her romance, she'd be pretty tough on MC but not out of malice. She has seen how rough the acting world can be and while the gang provides helpful advice, she brings out the harsher criticism. Like how MC's body language isn't portraying right or how they're too casual instead of awkward for a scene about discomfort, little stuff like that. But on rough days, like if MC mess up big time, she'd stay near them and just be that comforting presence before passing a coffee can to MC, a silent way of cheering them up.

Bonus

Sylphina: MC's manager who got roped into the role because the director saw how she behaves with MC and just went "You'll do!" She didn't want to at first, but ended up relenting at MC's request.

Ben: One of the most well-known actors in the industry, a very A-list actor. Is probably the one who dragged recruited MC into the acting business, especially having them join the same agency as zim.

Thank you for the ask, anon!

[4-the-l0ve-0f-art]

"You were a daydream inside a nightmare."

Chapter 4: A New Chapter (Metaphorically!)

Word count: 1.1k

Trigger warnings: none

Ao3 Link Chapter Links for Tumblr

You sank into the warmth of your bed after a long day of discussions with the head butler and doing house chores. Your meeting with Mr. Rodderdinger, or Mr. “Rod” as others liked to call him from what you found out, was quite the shocker.

“My, oh my! This painting! You have captured the beauty of the royal horses and knights quite perfectly!” He exclaimed after a thorough look at the creation resting on a sofa in his office.

“You painted this in a day, you say? I can’t imagine the beauty you could capture with more time on your hands!” 

You were taken aback at the blatant praise. A more rushed and dismissive conversation was what you expected from an authority figure considering you weren’t from a noble family, but he was proving himself the opposite.

“I’m glad it’s up to your standards. It would’ve been pretty awkward if I carried this all the way here just to find out it wasn’t satisfactory.” You replied with relief. 

“Is there any specific location or scene you would like me to paint?” You continued discussing the specifics of your commission with him for about two hours. The scenes, funding for material, number of paintings that might be expected, prices, and all that.

As you were about to leave, he asked you a question. 

“I almost forgot! I heard you talking in the hallway before coming in. Did you need someone’s help with carrying this?” He gestured to the painting.

“..Yeah. This is a bit embarrassing, but I keep on getting lost around here.” You smiled awkwardly. “And I don’t live near the palace so I had to carry it all the way here along with the materials.”

“Does that mean you would have to carry your items every time you’re here to work? Now, That’s quite the chore.” He rested his elbow on the table and rubbed one side of his moustache with his gloved hand. It looked like he was thinking of something. “It’ll also cost you precious time you could spend focusing on your work instead of commuting.” 

“It’s not too bad, honestly. I can manage just fine.” That was a lie. Commuting with your endless supplies back and forth was, in fact, a chore.

“Nonsense! A contractor of the royal palace should not have to go through unnecessary hardships alone. I offer you this; you live in our staff quarters to save yourself the time spent on commuting. We already have the majority of our everyday staff living here to improve their efficiency, so it will not be a problem to provide you housing.” 

This was unexpected. 

And so, it was decided. You won’t have to travel back and forth to the palace everyday anymore. A rushed decision, but considering this seemed to be a long and time consuming commission, you would be a fool to give up the offer. You were shown around the staff dormitories by Nancy as requested by you and moving in the next few days was a done decision.

The events of the day made it difficult for you to fall asleep, but the next few days were going to be long, and you needed the energy for it. You also wanted to savour the comfort of your home before the move in, and so, you drifted off to dreamland soon enough.

-

Late into the night, a lone man stood gazing out the window in his office. The oil lamp on his desk was back to life, casting a warm glow around the room. He watched as fireflies danced around in the garden below, buzzing with life in the quiet of the night. Not a soul was awake at these hours, and mother nature came to life at the most peaceful times. He witnessed the beauty of nature alone, just as he always does, without anybody to share it with.

And yet, his mind wasn’t quite there. Rather, it was focused on the beauty of a certain individual instead of mother nature. He couldn’t help himself, his tired mind venturing off into a little hidden corner of its own, exploring the sights of a greenhouse, a fountain, and a woman struggling to hold a canvas half her size. It was thinking about the weight of the canvas as he carried it with him, leading her to her desired destination.

And it was thinking about the answer he gave her, wondering if she would be enamoured by the sight of fireflies dancing carefreely in the garden, as much as he is.

-

The next few days were full of packing and trips between the palace and local markets to get what you need. The room provided to you in the staff quarters was small but cozy, furnished with a single person bed and a study table and chair. You even got a view of the mountains in the distance from your north facing window. A beautiful and inspirational sight for an artist, and a pleasure to wake up to everyday.

Setting up your belongings wasn’t a difficult task. Meals were provided from the staff cafeteria and you could even use the kitchens yourself as long as you tidied up after yourself (the chef who showed you around seemed to be putting an emphasis on the last part. Makes you wonder what horrors he might’ve witnessed happening in the kitchen.)

You found comfort in knowing Nancy was living just two rooms down yours. Knowing you could ask her for help anytime, a much needed reassurance from a blooming friendship. (“You know, you can just call me over if you need anything! I’m here to help.” Said by the ever-enthusiastic and welcoming maid-knight. You were afraid you might just end up bothering her a little too much to her liking because of how friendly she was.)

You bought a few storage items to put away your clothes, art supplies and whatnot in your room cleanly. Your easel was set up right next to the window, ready to paint the sight of ice-peaked mountains whenever you got the chance in the middle of your palace showcase series. Sketchbooks were already neatly stacked alongside stationery on the desk, crucial for whenever you needed to jot down an idea from bursts of inspiration. 

Your items added a touch of familiarity to the room. If you were going to live here, you would need to get used to it and get comfortable while you can to avoid unnecessary homesickness. And regardless of the unfamiliarity and changes that come with living in a new environment, one thing was for certain. You were starting a new chapter of your life.

A lot of new experiences and memories were in store for you.

[fateandfragments-fanfiction]

Wedding Date with a Devil - F!Reader x Raphael

Baldurs Gate 3

Dragged along by Wyll as a last-minute plus-one to a wedding, she finds herself abandoned mid-celebration when her date vanishes with a groomsman. Enter Raphael—the smooth-talking cambion with a penchant for intrigue—who steps in as her unexpected companion for the evening.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

[Name] wasn’t one for formal events. The idea of crowded halls, glistening gowns, and clinking goblets made her skin crawl. But a wedding? One she hadn’t even been invited to? That was a whole new circle of torment.

“Come on, [Name], just this once,” Wyll had pleaded days ago, his dashing smile slightly crooked in desperation. “You’re great with people. Just… accompany me for support. They’ll hardly notice you’re not on the guest list.”

It was a sentiment she doubted. [Name], dressed in her usual travel-worn cloak, would stick out among Baldur’s Gate’s elite like a thistle in a rose bouquet. But Wyll had been earnest, and Halsin—bless his gentle heart—had chimed in with his serene wisdom: “It could be good for you to experience something joyful.”

Joyful her mossy boots.

Now, seated stiffly at a pristine table under an elaborate golden canopy, she tugged uncomfortably at the borrowed dress Shadowheart had provided. “It’ll suit you,” the half-elf had said while plucking nonexistent lint off the neckline. “Even you can look respectable with the right tailoring.”

[Name] huffed, shifting the fabric so it didn’t itch against her skin. Wyll was nowhere to be found, likely swept up in the groom’s socializing, leaving her to fend off awkward glances from other guests. The wedding party danced in dizzying circles to a lively tune played by a gaggle of bards. She should have been enjoying the free food and wine, but instead, she felt like a wolf in a chicken coop.

Her solitude didn’t last long. A familiar, smooth voice cut through the din like a dagger through silk.

“Ah, the ever-elusive [Name]. I should have guessed you’d find your way here.”

She turned sharply, her eyes locking onto Raphael. The cambion was dressed as finely as ever, his dark crimson coat embroidered with shimmering silver vines. His presence was magnetic, as always, drawing attention from more than a few partygoers nearby.

“Why are you here?” she hissed, keeping her voice low. The last thing she needed was someone questioning why one of the most notorious devils had a casual rapport with her. “Come to steal the cake? Or perhaps someone’s soul?”

Raphael chuckled, his sharp teeth glinting in the soft light. “My dear, you wound me. Can’t a simple connoisseur of life’s finer pleasures attend a wedding without suspicion?”

She didn’t buy it for a second, but before she could press further, a man’s voice spoke out nearby.

“Miss [Surname]?”

Both of them turned to see Wyll returning, his expression painfully apologetic. “I—uh, there’s been a bit of an issue.”

[Name]'s brow furrowed. “What kind of issue?”

“One of the bridesmaids… well, she’s run off with one of the groomsmen. I’ve been asked to fill her seat at the head table, and…” His voice trailed off as his eyes darted between [Name] and Raphael. “It seems I’ll need to leave you to… other company?”

[Name] blinked, stunned into silence. It was bad enough she’d been roped into this whole affair, but now she was being abandoned. Wyll muttered a rushed apology before vanishing, leaving her alone once more with the ever-smirking Raphael.

“Abandoned at a wedding,” Raphael said, his tone dripping with amusement. “How tragic. But fret not, darling; I can be an excellent replacement.”

“I’d rather eat the centerpiece,” she muttered.

“Now, now, no need to be unkind. Besides, you’re hardly in a position to refuse. Unless, of course, you fancy sitting alone for the rest of the evening?”

Her jaw clenched, but she couldn’t argue. She had no other allies in this sea of strangers, everyone else busy with their dates. Begrudgingly, she gestured toward the empty chair beside her. “Fine. But if you so much as breathe one infernal offer my way—”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, taking the seat with a flourish. “Tonight, I’m merely your devoted escort.”

The evening progressed with surprising ease. To [Name]'s astonishment, Raphael was adept at navigating the social intricacies of the event. He deflected probing questions about her presence with well-crafted half-truths, and his sharp wit kept nosy guests entertained enough to leave them alone. She even caught herself laughing at one of his more ridiculous anecdotes, though she quickly smothered it with a sip of wine.

The rest of their camp, scattered among the guests, seemed equally bemused. Astarion gave her a knowing smirk from across the room, his goblet raised in mock toast. Shadowheart’s brows shot up when she noticed the cambion at [Name]'s side, and Gale, ever the meddler, sent a mage hand to deliver a note that read: “Should we be worried?”

But [Name], against all odds, was enjoying herself. When the music slowed and couples began pairing off for a waltz, Raphael extended a hand toward her, his expression uncharacteristically soft.

“Shall we?”

Her first instinct was to refuse, but something in his gaze stopped her. There was no smirk, no teasing glint—just an unexpected sincerity that made her hesitate. With a reluctant sigh, she placed her hand in his.

“I’ll regret this,” she muttered as he led her to the dance floor.

“Most likely,” he replied, though his tone lacked its usual bite.

The dance was… nice. More than nice, even. He moved with an effortless grace, guiding her through the steps as though they’d rehearsed. For once, the constant tension between them—his infernal charm and her stubborn resistance—seemed to melt away. She felt, for the first time in what felt like years, at ease.

As the song ended, Raphael held her gaze, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “You’re more radiant than you realize, [Name].”

She blinked, caught off guard by the genuine warmth in his words. Before she could respond, the moment was broken by a cheer from the crowd as the bride and groom began their own dance.

[Name] stepped back, her walls snapping back into place. “Don’t think this changes anything,” she said, though her voice lacked its usual edge.

Raphael simply smiled, bowing slightly. “Of course not. But perhaps, for tonight, we can both pretend otherwise.”

[Name] hated how easily Raphael’s words slipped under her skin, their silky cadence laced with something far too genuine for comfort. She opened her mouth to respond—probably something biting, something to reestablish the sharp edges of their usual dynamic—but the words didn’t come. Instead, she found herself watching him, studying the way his smile softened in a way she hadn’t expected.

He straightened, extending an arm toward her again. “Come now. There’s a buffet table groaning under the weight of its own decadence. Surely even you can’t resist such an indulgence.”

Her lips twitched in a reluctant smirk. “Fine. But only because I’m starving.”

“Starving for food, or for company?” he teased, earning a narrow-eyed glare that he waved off with a laugh. “Very well, my dear. Lead the way.”

They made their way toward the buffet, weaving through clusters of merrymakers who seemed far too interested in their presence. It didn’t take long for a familiar voice to pierce through the chatter.

“Well, well. Isn’t this an interesting pairing.”

Astarion, of course. He leaned casually against a nearby column, his smirk so sharp it could cut glass. His goblet of wine dangled between two fingers as his eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Shouldn’t you be lurking in the shadows somewhere?” [Name] shot back, grabbing a plate and ignoring the vampire’s amused chuckle.

“I was lurking,” Astarion replied smoothly, pushing off the column to join them at the buffet. “But this little spectacle was too delicious to miss. Are you and our devilishly charming friend here—what’s the term? Thick as thieves?”

“I’d say more like oil and water,” [Name] muttered, piling her plate with roasted vegetables and something unidentifiable but fragrant. “And it’s none of your business.”

“Ah, but everything is my business,” Astarion quipped, casting a glance at Raphael. “What’s your angle, devil? Surely this isn’t just a harmless evening of pleasantries.”

Raphael, unbothered, picked up a glass of champagne and swirled it lazily. “Why must everything have an angle? Can a simple man not enjoy an evening in agreeable company?”

“Simple?” Astarion barked a laugh, drawing the attention of a few nearby guests. “Oh, darling, you’re anything but simple.”

[Name] resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. “Will you two knock it off? If you’re going to bicker, do it somewhere else.”

Raphael inclined his head toward her, his expression somewhere between amused and considerate. “As you wish. Come, let’s spare the lovely bride and groom the scandal of a devil and a vampire dueling over the buffet table.”

With that, he offered [Name] his arm again, his gesture more exaggerated this time, as if to poke fun at the absurdity of their situation. She hesitated, glancing at Astarion, who merely arched a brow and took another sip of his wine, clearly enjoying the show.

“Fine,” she said, slipping her arm into Raphael’s. “But you’re still buying me a drink after this.”

“Darling, I’ll buy you the entire bar,” he replied, his grin returning to its usual devilish charm.

They made their way back to their table, and the night stretched on in a strange rhythm—one she couldn’t quite define. Raphael, for all his usual scheming, seemed content to simply exist beside her, his sharp words softened into something approaching kindness. He didn’t press her for conversation but joined her in quiet observations, commenting on the absurdity of the event with a wit that had her stifling laughter behind her hand more than once.

The others checked in sporadically—Shadowheart with a raised brow of suspicion, Gale with another cryptic note about keeping one eye open. Even Halsin, the ever-patient, gave her a look of mild concern when he passed by.

But [Name] didn’t feel the need to explain herself. Not tonight. Tonight, she allowed herself the rare indulgence of lowering her guard, just enough to let the evening pass without conflict.

When the final toast was raised and the bride and groom made their departure under a flurry of rose petals, [Name] felt an odd sense of calm. The crowd began to disperse, the energy winding down into the lazy haze of post-celebration. She stood, stretching out her legs and preparing to slip back into the night’s shadows.

Raphael was beside her before she could make her exit. “Leaving so soon?”

“It’s late,” she said, smoothing the borrowed dress. “And I’ve had enough awkward small talk for one lifetime.”

“Pity,” he said, though there was no disappointment in his tone. “I was quite enjoying your company.”

She narrowed her eyes, searching his face for the hint of a trick or some hidden agenda. But all she found was that maddening sincerity again, and it left her unbalanced.

“Well, don’t get used to it,” she muttered, stepping past him. “This doesn’t change anything.”

“Of course not,” he agreed easily, falling into step beside her as they exited the venue. The night air was crisp, carrying the scent of the sea from the nearby docks. “But perhaps it’s a start.”

“A start to what?” she asked, her voice skeptical as she adjusted her cloak over her shoulders.

He stopped walking, forcing her to turn and face him. For a moment, he studied her, his eyes gleaming like embers in the moonlight. “A start to something you’re not quite ready to admit. But I can be patient, [Name]. I have all the time in the world.”

Her heart gave an unexpected lurch, and she hated how his words clung to her, lingering like a melody she couldn’t quite shake. She opened her mouth to respond, but no sharp retort came.

So instead, she turned and walked away, leaving him standing there under the canopy of stars. But even as she retreated into the night, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just opened a door she couldn’t quite close—and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to.

~Fin~

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

If this man wasn't so obsessed with himself (admitting this to be OOC), I'd have stolen that crown for him all I'm saying.

I decided to post this ahead of schedule lol

[hxltic]

i have this idea of gymnast! reader and bokuto that I can't get put of my headddd, like her going to his practice and him going to readers as well 😫 cute

Omgomg this is so cute!! I used to be a gymnast😼

The power couple. Y’all do everything together.

Before he went pro, you both attended the same college. He was captain for the last two years he was there, well known throughout campus, but mainly for reasons other than his volleyball talent. Innocent reasons, of course.

But I mean can you blame them? Look at him.

Big bright eyes, expressive and sweet. Huge too. On top of practically towering over everyone he meets, his vivacious nature makes you comfortable and him a likable person overall. It’s not surprising seeing all of the girls that would attach themselves to him.

He’d politely decline, and looking over his show-stopping smile, it provides enough comfort after being rejected to ask if they can recruit themselves as friends instead. He can’t say no to friends, especially after already saying it once, so he internally sighs and nods his head. It was awkward the first few times but he’s come to learn they never actually call. And if they text, it’s just basic conversation that he feels they don’t actually care to know about him.

You met at a meeting for the athletes held by the school, basically congratulating the hard work and achievements of the individual teams and important players. He went up in ranks for his hitting accuracy, dependability, and being an accomplished six rotation player. An overall asset to his team. He shakes the hand of his coach and an older man, taking his certificate, and standing up on the stage for the picture.

After entering the transfer portal, you were elated when one of the top scoring colleges for Women’s Collegiate Gymnastics gave you an offer. Of course you took the chance. With the sport being more of an individual achievement, even though the scoring is all added up in the end, you consistently dropped incredible numbers for the team. You like vault the best, but your teammates are in love with your floor routine and music.

So you go up next. Your hair moving behind you as you step up to your own coach and shake her hand, then receive the frame, ordered to stand right next to Bokuto.

His weight might be shifting, and his eyes may be flickering back and forth from you to the clapping audience of your peers, but he can’t help it. You’re the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

You’re only a few centimeters shorter, your skin glistens, and your pretty eyes are hid from him when your side profile leaves curly hair fallen over your ears. He forces himself to look forward for the last group picture of the ceremony, making a mental note to look up the name he’s heard called by the announcer more than once.

And he does just that. It was a little creepy at first but that was how you met. Now, you both go to the gym in your free time. He powers you through your sets, promising different motivators (new shoes) and food, while you try your best to do the same to him. Most of the time is spent giggling, but hey. Y’all work out with your respective teams on the days you’re supposed to, so does it really matter?

You mainly watch his games because some of your practices are on the same day. Watching these men swing with all their might knowing people on the other side are intended to receive the hit is insane to you. Watching who he explained is the libero throw himself around or get behind balls that seem to be barreling toward his face. You would literally shit yourself.

Meanwhile, when Bokuto comes to watch you, he admires the technical training and physicality that goes into running full speed at an inanimate object and tossing yourself around. How you manage not only to balance, but make it look pretty, and stay pretty doing it. He claims he gets sweaty and gross.

Sometimes after a workout, he’ll walk into your practice and finds a seat somewhere. He hears fast steps, vault boards going off, mats caving from being landed on—it’s all music to his ears now. He’s unironically close with your coach (as he is all the others, and the dietician), mainly because he’s around for you. You try not to get distracted by his slumped figure eyeing you from afar. It gets hard when you do full out routines at the end and you stick it.

He doesn’t truly understand the scoring and how meticulous it is, just that a fall is bad and you have to try your best not to wobble. Which is exactly why even if it wasn’t your best routine, it looked all the perfect to him, and he celebrates when you land your dismount.

There’s nothing more he loves than watching you get ready before meets. Braiding your own hair or letting your teammate do it, putting glitter of the school colors in spots on your face to match the leotard, doing the makeup, and putting the colorful bows in the bun— it’s all a process to him. You look gorgeous after, even when you’ve tucked yourself away in the school tracksuit that hides those thick legs he knows you has.

That’s what he loves most. God, your legs. Your whole physique really. Long, strong legs and thighs that could crush him. Arms that he has to remind you are sexy when you’re looking at yourself in a dress.

Bokuto is strong, he knows that. He’s been athletic and probably has never been out of shape a day in his life. To be with someone that matches his lifestyle and is amazing at her sport? He considers himself blessed. There’s nobody that understands him like you do.

©️hxltic

[stizzysupremacy]

okay. Okay so. This is ridiculous but. The idea won’t get out of my brain ever since I started rewatching an old sitcom:

Izzy Hands as The Nanny

no no hear me out.

Izzy works in his bf Ed’s tailor shop (vs a bridal shop cuz even in an au I can’t stretch to see Izzy doing anything bridal for a living) until Ed wants to give Jack Rackham Izzy’s job and oh also he wants to start dating Jack too. So Izzy is out of a job and a relationship that’s been in the pre-engagement state for years. Izzy gets a part time job selling fine chef’s knives door-to-door (instead of makeup. Because it’s a good excuse to slip Steak Knife into the story and also because my bestie used to sell knives and I love him)

Izzy happens to show up at the Bonnet mansion household around the time they were expecting their newest nanny to come for an interview. Izzy thinks he is being invited in to give his sales pitch. In classic sitcom misunderstanding it takes a while for Stede to realize that Short Dark and Handsome here is not actually a manny with a resting rage face.

But by then Izzy has had a chance to interact with Stede’s kids and his household staff. Stede has fondness for anyone who is kind to his kids and has a secret awe for anyone who seems to get along with less awkwardness than he himself does. Izzy just talks to the kids like they are adults because he doesn’t know how else to deal with tiny people except to treat them like big people. Alma appreciates it.

The rest of the household (Buttons as the butler? Lucius as a PA? Roach as chef, Jim as driver, etc you get the idea) are surprisingly on board with hiring the guy who came to the door with a briefcase full of knives to provide daily childcare. He’s got no experience or qualifications but Izzy clearly does not take shit from anyone and won’t get scared off in under two months like the last nanny.

and look, the pay is really good. Even if Mr Bonnet is supremely annoying, he pays well and the kids seem fine, old enough to entertain themselves most of the time and not be very interested in interacting with some greying old man. He can get them to school and home from school, and deal with the occasional snotty cold or scraped knee for such a huge salary, with room and board on top! plus staying in the rich part of town cuts down on the chances of running into Ed and/or Jack.

So Izzy moves into the mansion and chases the Bonnet children around for a living. (Izzy quickly learns that the kids are still young enough to love playing pirates, something Stede started with them but has been too busy to do. Izzy, wearing an eye patch and brandishing a plastic sword, taunts Stede into joining their play by challenging him to duel (yes Stede smacks his ass with his sword))

obvious stede would never get full custody lol so there’s plenty of time when the kids are with their mother and Stede’s only company in the big empty house is Izzy Hands 😮😀

[lizaluvsthis]

PART 2 HYPERFIXATION FOR SMG4: Mario looks at SMG4's browser history

Okay last one...(f-cking photos has a limit)

Previous hyperfixation (read first)

So it is true that SMG3 does torture SMG4's life by ruining his day(come back from the episode you used to be cool where smg3 said "usual")

Since the word "usual" is used from SMG3's statement after we learned from that episode where he "considered killing" him. Directly to smg4.

SPOILER...

Seems like SMG3 DOES love to put out a good show where he still makes smg4 suffer the most mildest things with apparent reasons of constant teasing for the man and Three just enjoys it.

(If SMG4 did things to ruin his life so badly, by smg4 doing so in purpose, then so should SMG3 WILL and would ruin his day back.)

Worst thing SMG3 would think of, is forgiving SMG4. Because why in hell would he do that after everything?

Not only... SMG3 hides behind his secret, and mentioning WOTFI 2021 where SMG3 said something along the lines with "try and make him cry" is and definitely puts on that SMG3 still concealed himself from his inner shell as his emotional break down to cover up the sensitive emotion he has.

And that it'd be so out of character and sudden to forgive smg4 just like that, he'd be in the usual doings of "Hell no f-cking way I'd do that just now, why would I forgive this assh-le for ruining my life?"

Because thats an emotional baggage for SMG3 to cope on, he livestreams himself on twitch to play random ass games for his stress relief because of him. SMG4 has been stuck with him for like- a decade now and this is sh-t ass ruining him

if you all shouldve noticed just now, smg4 hasnt apologized EVERYTHING to SMG3 yet. Because he wasn't sure how "emotions" and "actions" could play out from his character after he did those "assumable" things to break SMG3's dreams.

Thats simple. He's a very difficult man to comprehend with his own self thoughts, he's overwhelmed at himself to where it breaks him. If SMG3 is socially awkward to talking or making new friends, then so SMG4 is the one whos difficult to solve the problem with his causes (like saying sorry wasnt very easy for him to put out)

Cause all smg4 did was focus on his meme contents from doing what he loves, he broke three for being famous, and his cafe, with also his dreams on starting his own production, not to ALSO mention his damage to SMG3.

If smg3 would even still forgave him for doing all of that om purpose without even realizing. But to smg3, he didn't want to say he'll forgive SMG4 instead. He still recovers from each and everything from that.

Because he'd seen how fragile SMG4 is at this part. SMG4 could only rely with making his contents to get money off from youtube, to THEN paying the expenses for whatever waterbills, electricbills, his loans from the property he's paying for, foods from groceries.

Literally EVERYTHING.... he's been trying to provide and same this goes on with SMG3 where he started his coffee shop, the one who works two jobs as a twitch streamer and a cafe owner. (The reason why SMG3 gets money from thats how he could afford everything just by double timing his job)

Since smg4 doesnt know sh-t with jobs, SMG3 is up ahead him, smart enough to think. While SMG4's knowledge is a bit too unstable without any of his college experience since he didn't like school then he hates studying.

Studying helps you learn countless of things even tho its a hard challenge to try, you still need to learn either way to know bits of facts. SMG4 dropped out and didn't graduate from college, but did SMG3 continued college?

That remains unknown, but we do know for a fact he is twice as smarter than SMG4 and Mario. (God what a fabulous b-tch.)

The reason why college is important is that you can set a course of what you'd want to get a job you'd be capable of loving from. And knowing that SMG3 pays atleast too many stuff by marketing and selling or trading or who knows what from the internet to make him get that much of advantage to get enough money.

SMG3 improvised his skills to survive

And so if SMG4 could do the same he'd probably have the same braincells as his boyfriend/j

- (whoops I just realized that I moved the topic to college but eh-)

Anyway following on with our focused topic.

If SMG4 couldnt admit that he'd say sorry to SMG3, then there would be a constant loop of the friends not understanding each other.

I still have a feeling that SMG3 could almost understand, like he could see through what SMG4 has been feeling. But he couldnt show that emotion to four- it'd look WEIRD. for him. Better yet is that- SMG4 would most likely be the optimisstic one to show symapthy, but still- SMG3 is an empathetic man for SMG4.

Just so is SMG4 when he cant understand how his actions can cause consequences like smg3 for example, SMG3 didn't even do much damage to SMG4 after everything. Because what SMG3 thinks is that he- deserved it. Everything to him from what he had done to smg4- willl be always pointed at him as he only sees himself as the bad guy.

Like oh man- how assumable can smg4 be when smg3 gets something that he finally wishes to have for? Attention. And he's been the one saying "thats what we do for each other right?" When SMG4 did it his way while SMG3 has finally moved on. Like SMG4... I see you as the person who've been causing a lot by i mean ALOT. Of problems.

Four suffers because of this cause he never understands how relationships or just by general actions work, because he never had someone close to him to guide his way for understanding.

They both were literally born from a USB and then came down there to explore their new selves.

Not even once SMG4 thought about- "why did I do that to him? I should say sorry... If only I didnt destroy his cafe nor even his productions"

Its because FOUR WAS SO AFRAID. In repeat. Lets repeat this again.

Three cant forgive SMG4 because he's been having alot of thoughts from his head that would lead to the death of him.

And SMG4 cant apologize cause he's unaware of what would happen if he did. He would overthink about this... and better yet- Three's motions are unrecognizable so Four would keep on missing his chances if he'd want to say it. He wondered that if he told sorry to smg3, he'd be the one to blamed more and three would be more pissed. Because they both wanted to forget the past.

But the past is already apart of them, a memory they both went through together...

So... well- theres my fixating- :)))))

@b-r-i-n-g-x .