#celestial Mischief

[prismatica-the-strange]

Out of this selection of my familial F/Os...

[owlygem]

[drluciengaudet]

continued from here

"Much as I knew you'd steal the hearts of all in a set of black, mon cœur. You are every bit of elegant as expected." Lucien purred to his sire. "Though I do need to ask, was this also you're doing." He noted the feminine form, if not he had a few others he'd go after for it, but he would find out who it was this year and pull them apart. Of course if it was Raphael, that was different. He was never held to the same standards as anyone else. "What mischief have you been making? I know you do enjoy this time of year."

@nottheangel-raphael

[bluberryfields]

Is it hot in here or is it just him?

(Spoiler: definitely him)

The Loki Strut™

[phenioxflame]

Monkie Kid- Animal Fury Season 1 Chapter 1- Apprentice

The gray wolf sits in the darkness. She looks back to see a blue crystal clock. The clock turns once and lands on one. One blue flame is lit.

As the moon started to set on the city, the sun started to rise from behind the mountains. A cool brezze flower through Mk’s window; waking him up. He lifts himself up in his sleepy state and looks around, seeing that it was early morning.

“It’s seven? Might as well get up now.” He got up from bed and walked over to his window. He looked outside to see the moon out while the sun was still rising. “Oh cool. The moon is still out.”

Mk walks out the door and get’s in his car. He drives to the mountain.

Once he arrives at the mountain, he walks up the stairs to Monkie King’s (Sun Wukong) training dojo.

“Monkie King? Are you here?” Mk looked around and didn’t see Monkie King anywhere. “That’s strange…. He said he would be here.”

“And I am”, Sun said from behind Mk. Mk jumped and said, “Don’t do that!”

“Sorry, Sorry”, Sun said. “Ready for training?” Before Sun could take another step, he heard Mk’s bag ball to the ground. He looks back and sees Mk about to attack. “Guss that means yes.” Sun got into his fighting stance and started training in an instant. Mk and Sun continue to fight until Mk stands victorious.

“Yes!”

“Your getting better”, Sun said, pucking himself up. He brushed off the dust and dirt from his clothes. “And your powers are getting stronger.”

“Maybe, but they’re not as powerful as you”, Mk says, giving parise to his teacher. Before Sun could say anything else, a crash could be heard from the city below.

“Not again….!”

My jumps down from building to building until he sees a huge demon roaring.

“Oh come on…. Another demon”, Mk says in annoyance. Before he could act, a shadow figure enveloped by the sun jumps down and lands on a nearby building. They look up at the demon.

“This is gonna be fun.” The gray wolf raises her arm to the side of her and summons a claw-like weapon. “Now it’s time to go back to where you belong!” She jumps up and lands on one of the demon's extra arms and runs up to its face. The demon tries to shake her off, but the gray wolf jumps onto a nearby building and looks down on the demon. She jumps down once again and claws the demon’s face. From the impact of the blow, the wolf jumps up to the same building she was on before; her feet sliding against the roof. The demon roars in pain and agony until it disappears into the shadows. Magic surrounds the wolf’s claw-like weapon and it vanishes. “And that is how it’s done.”

“Wow, Monkie King, that was–”, Before Mk could say another word, he falls back. The gray wolf, wearided out by the situation, tries to walk away, but Mk reapers in front of her and says, “That was amazing Monk– O-Oh, your not Monkie King.” The gray toned wolf blinked a few times and then chuckled.

“Clearly.” The gray wolf looks at Mk’s staff and relized that the staff belong to Monkie King. She thinks, “How does he have Sun’s staff? He must be his apprentice.” She gathered her words and said, “You must be Monkie King’s apprentice. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“You have”, Mk asks.

“Yes. You're the talk of the celestial realm as of late”, The wolf says. She starts to walk away and says, “I’ll see you around, Mk.” Mk looked back at the mountain and then back at the wolf walking away. He looks at his staff and runs up to the wolf.

“Can you teach me that move”, Mk asks, his eyes growing big like a puppy. The wolf looks down and smiles. She then looks back up at Mk and says, “I’m sorry. I can’t. You already have a teacher. You shouldn’t go behind his back.”

“Oh… well, will I see you again”, Mk asked. The wolf looked back and smiled, then said, “Maybe one day.”

“When?”

“Let fate decide.”

“She what?”

“She killed the demon on her own”, Mk exsplained to Mai. “I think she was from the Celestial Realm.”

“What did she look like”, Mai asked.

“She was gray toned and she had a pendant that looked like the moon”, Mk described. “She had gold eyes too.” Sun almost dropped the scroll he was reading and looked away. He could feel a bead of sweat running down his face.

“Hey, Monkie King, do you know who she is”, Mk asked.

“I-I have no idea who she is”, Sun said, acting ignorant. “And IF she was from the celestial realm, she wouldn’t have come down here. Beings from the Celestial realm don’t travel to Earth.” As Sun went back to reading his scroll, a bright blue light caught the side of his eye. The trio looked over and saw a blue lit portal.

“What the?” Mk walks over to the portal and puts his hand through. He goes to pull his hand back out, but the force of the portal pulls him in.

“Mk!” Mie and Sun try to pull Mk out of the portal but they all get pulled in.

A portal appears in the celestial realm and Mk falls from above. He hits the ground. He rubs the back of his head and looks around.

“Is this… the celestial realm?”

“Mk?” Mk looks back to see the gray wolf looking at him from above. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s you again”, Mk says. “Am I in the celestial realm?

“You are”, the gray wolf says. “But right now, you're in the celestial forest. This is my domain.”

“I’m not here alone”, Mk says. “My friends are here too.”

“Your friends? Does that mean Monkie King is here too”, the wolf asks.

“Yes.” The wolf looks around for a moment and says, “Alright. I’ll help you find your friends. Follow me.”

Mk follows the gray wolf into the forest. Leaves the color yellow and gold fell to the ground. The yellow grass flows as the two walk.

“Do you live here”, Mk asks.

“Indeed, I do”, the wolf says. “I am this domain's protector among all things.”

“Really?”

“Yes. do you know what an embodiment is”, the wolf asks.

“No”, Mk answered.

“Well, an embodiment is in charge of keeping balance in three places”, the wolf continues, “The celestial realm. Earth. And the lunar realm. There are many embodiments have different respnibilities for what they are named for.”

“So what’s yours”, Mk curiously asks.

“I am the embodiment of Luck and misfourtun”, the wolf answers. She looks back and says, “We found them.” Mk looks down and runs over to Sun and Mai.

“Monkie King! Mei!”

“Mk!”

“Thank goodness you're alright”, Sun says. “How did you fild us?”

“She helped me.” Sun looks up and sees the gray wolf looking down on him. Sun’s face turned somewhat not convinced and said, “So you came out of hiding, huh?”

“What are you talking about”, the wolf says. “I keep on the low because I don’t like to make a scene.”

“And look at what you did back on earth.”

“Mad that you didn’t kill a demon?” Mai and Mk look at each other and ask in unison, “Do you two know each other?” Sun and the wolf looked at each other for a moment.

“I will slap you, Sun”, the wolf murmured. Sun sighs and says, “She’s my sister.” Mei and Mk looked at both Sun and the wolf and said in unison and surprise, “WHAT?!”

“Yup, I’m his sister”, the wolf days.

“Little sister”, Sun clarified.

“You two don’t look related”, Mei pointed out.

“She looks more like our father and I look more like our mother”, Sun says.

“How did you even get here”, the wolf asked. “Last I checked, the only way to get up here is through the celestial gate.”

“A portal pulled us in here”, Mei said.

“Ah, I see”, the wolf said. “Those would be realm portals. They tend to pop up every now and then.”

“Can you get us home”, Mk asked.

“Well, you can’t go through the celestial gate”, the wolf said. “But there is a way to get you all back on earth. Follow me.” The wolf leads the trio to a wall. The wolf waves her hands in the shape of a moon and a portal opens. “There you go: one portal back to Earth.”

“Thank you”, Mei says. She runs over to the portal and goes through. Sun does the same.

“I guess I’ll see you soon, Mk”, the wolf said. As Mk was about to walk through the portal, he stops, turns around and asks, “What’s your name?” The gray wolf looked at Mk for a moment and smiled.

“Mischief. Mischief Wukong”, she said. Mk smiled and said while waving his arm, “I’ll see you soon, Mischief!” Mk runs through the portal while Mischief waves goodbye. Mischief, the gray wolf, looked at the wall for a moment and then walked back to her home. While she walked, a blue light whispered into her ear.

He’s the one….

Two young cheeta girls run to the front of a traditional, yet modern, chinese house supported by a platform.

“Do you think she’s here”, one of them asks.

“I don’t see her”, the other said. From the right side of the building, Mischief opens a sliding door. The twins smile and say, “Mischief”, In unison. Mischief looks over and smiles when she sees Clock Wise and Wise Clock.

“Hello you two”, she says, walking down the steps to the fence where the twins hunh off. “What brings you here?”

“We were playing in the forest, but we found something”, Clock Wise said.

“What is it”, Mischief asked.

“We don’t know”, Wise Clock answered. “But it was black, and it was covering the mushrooms and trees.”

“Black? Can you take me to where you saw it”, Mischief asked. Clock Wise and Wise Clock take Mischief’s hands and lead her into the west of the forest. Clock wise and Wise Clock point over to the tree covered in the black substance. Mischief walks over to the black covered tree and neles down on one knee. She looks at the black substance and her blood runs cold.

“Mischief? What is it?”

“Clock Wise. Wise Clock. Go home and don’y come back until I tell you it’s safe”, Mischief says. Clock Wise and Wise Clock nod their hands and run back to their home. Mischief gets up and summons her claw-like weapon. Black-like mist rolls in and stops at the infected tree. Mischief walks to the right side of the tree and yells, “Show yourself! You are in the domain of luck and misfortune!” Mischief stood in her defencave stance waiting for a attack. She narrows her eyes in agitation; her pupils becoming slits.

“So it is you. At last we meet again, Embodiment of Luck and Misfourtune.” Mischief’s hair stood as she slowly looked behind her to see a bug-like demon smiling demonicly at her. Mischief’s point-of-view goes dark.

The moon from above started to disappear from the rain clouds rolling in. Its brilliant light slowly becomes nothing but a dark shadow. Tang looked up at the sky as the rain started to come down.

“I don’t think It’s gonna stop raining”, Tang says, walking back inside.

“I don’t remember the forcast saying it would rain today”, Pigsy pointed out.

“Well, what can you do”, Mei said. She looked over at Mk, looking up at the sky. She walks over to him and asks, “Are you still thinking about Mischief?”

“I don’t know why, but when I looked at her, it looked like she was in pain”, Mk said. He looks over at Sun and asks, “How come you never told me you had a sister?”

“You never asked”, Sun said. “And Mischief doesn’t associate with anyone outside her domain.”

“Right….” Mk looked out into the rain and saw a person walking to the etrance gate. But the person wasn’t normal. They had wolf-like ears and a wolf-like tale. A thunderbolt struck through the sky and showed Mischief hurt and beaten. Mischief looks up with her gold eyes as the lightning strikes through the sky and she mouths, “Help me….” Mischief falls to the ground. Mk and the others run over and help Mischief into the sanctuary. They lay Mischief up ugenst a wall.

“Mischief, What happened”, Mk asks with concern.

“He’s back….”

“Who”, Sun asked.

“The demon king”, Mischief answered in a hurt voice. “He’s the king of all demons on Earth and hell.” Mischief lifts herself up and walks over to the opening. “The embodiment of harmony banished him to the Lunar realm.”

“How did he get out”, Tang asks.

“I don’t know”, Mischief says. “He shouldn’t have been able to escape. He’s in the celestial realm, trying to destroy it.”

“Why?”

“Revenge, Sun”, Mischief says in annoyance. “He wants to destroy the celestial realm for what the embodiment of Harmony did. Mk, Sun, you two are the only ones who can destroy him.” Mk looks at Sun and says, “We have to go.”

“Mk, I don’t think this is–”, Before Sun could say another word, Mk interrupted and said, “This is your home we’re talking about! Mischief can't fight The Demon King. We have to.” Sun looks at Mk and then Mischief. He could see a lost and conflicted look on her face. He knew how much Mischief dedicated her life to protect the celestial realm. It was her home. It was his home too. He wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to the celestial realm. Sun sighed and said, “Alright. Me and Mk will deal with The Demon King.”

“I can take you to the celestial realm”, Mischief says. She takes one step but holds her arm in pain. Tang and Pigsy held Mischief up to her feet. “I’m fine. I can still lead you there.”

“No, you can’t”, Sun says. “Stay here and rest. We have more than one way to get to the celestial realm.”

“I’ll go with you”, Mei says.

“Be careful”, Mischief says. Sun looks at Mischief and puts his forehead to hers.

“I promise, I’ll come back”, Sun said. He looked at Mischief one last time before creating his cloud. Mk and Mei jump on and the three of them fly to the celestial realm.

“Please be safe…”

“They’ll be fine, Mischief”, Sandy says. Mischief looks up into the sky and thinks, “I hope you're right.”

The trio fly down to the ground and look around to see the trees and ground in a darkend state. The trees were nothing more than shadow, and the ground was a dark shade of purple.

“What happened here”, Mk wondered.

“I’m not sure”, Sun responded. “But this isn’t Mischief domain anymore. It’s not supposed to be like this.” Mei looks over and sees a trail of darkness leading to the upper side of the forest.

“Looks like the dark energy is going upward”, Mei says, pointing to the upper forest.

“Then let’s not waste any time”, Mk says.

The trio make it up to the forest edge and look around. Sun and Mk’s hair stands. They look behind them and see three glowing red eyes looking at them. Mei looks back to see Sun and Mk in a worried state.

“You two alright?” Mei looked in their direction and saw a red face. The demon growed and charged up the hill.

“Run!” The trio run to the open hill. The Demon King whips one of his tales around and hits the trio back into the forest. Mei hits the ground while Sun and Mk both hit trees. Mk looks up and sees Sun in pain.

“So that useless embodiment sent you here”, The Demon King said, a demonic laughter following after. Mk lifts himself up and takes out his staff. The Demon King looks down at Mk and says, “The staff of Ra? Oh you have got to be kidding m–” Mk jumps up to The Demon King’s face and hits the top of his head. The Demon King holds his head in pain.

“What in infernos throne?!” Mk hits The Demon King back and he falls on his side. Mk goes for the finishing blow when The Demon King uses his oversized claws to pin him to the ground. “I have faced warlords, kings, and gods, and this is what I face? To think you could have been more than what you are now.”

“MK!”

“Mischief?” Mk gets up with what little strength he has left and looks up to see Mischief ghost-like rendition. “H-How? Are you dead?” Mischief rolls her eyes and shops the top of Mk’s head.

“I’m not dead”, Mischief exclaims. “It's an astral projection.”

“O-Oh.” Mischief looks to the left and snaps her head up to see The Demon King.

“Is that The Demon King? He wasn’t this big when I saw him”, Mischief says.

“I thought you fought him like this”, Mk said.

“No”, Mischief exsclaimed. The ground from below starts to rumble. “There’s not much time. Mk, I can give you my power for a short amount of time, but you have to make the last strike count.”

“Are you sure?”

“You're more powerful than you think. If you can master Monkie King’s power, then you can handle mine”, Mischief says, holding Mk’s hands in her own. She lets go of his hands and takes a few steps back and moves her hands in the kanji moon. “Your will becomes strength, and my will becomes your power.” Blue and silver magic flows into Mk’s being. His staff turned blue. Mk’s eyes glow a brilliant blue and he looks up at The Demon King. “Now, Finish him off!!!” The Demon King looks down in confusion and sees Mk covered in a blue mist like magic.

“What?!” Mk junmps up and punches The Demon King multiple times and pins him down to the ground.

“This ends now!!!” Mk dashes down and destroys The Demon King in one strike. The Demon King looks over to Mk in a weakened state and thinks, “So the moon has chosen their champion…..” Mk lands on the ground and holds his head. The blue and silver magic flies off of Mk and returns to Mischief’s astral form.

“You did well”, Mischief said. She looks up and sees the sky start to become a light blue. She smiles and says, “Thank you, Monkie Kid. I'll see you back on Earth.” With that said, Mischief’s astral projection fades away.

“Mk!” Mk looks back to see Sun and Mei run up to him.

“Are you two okay”, Mk asks.

“Aside from the hurting back, I think we’re good”, Sun says.

“You fought The Demon King without me”, Mei projects.

“Sorry”, Mk continued, “It was happening so fast that I didn’t really think.”

“At Least The Demon King is gone”, Sun says. “Let’s go home.”

Sun raps up the last of Mischief cuts.

“That should do it”, Sun says.

“Mischief, is there a reason you where on earth”, Mk asked.

“Yeah, I was wondering that too”, Sun says. “You never leave your domain unless it’s to see the council of balance.” Mischief looks away and sighs.

“Well, Since you did save the celestial realm, you deserve to know why I was on Earth”, Mischief says. “I didn’t come to earth to fight a demon. That day, when we met, I was looking for an apprentice.” Sun blinks a few times and says, “An apprentice? Are you sure The Demon King didn’t knock your brains loss?”

“I mean it, Sun”, Mischief says. “I was going to travel outside the city, but when I saw you, Mk, your power was far more powerful than I thought. Mk, I have chosen you to be my apprentice.”

“Hold Up!” Sun hugs Mk in a protective manner and says, “You are not taking Mk to the celestial realm! And plus, Mk already has a mentor: Me.” Mischief rolls her eyes, pushes Sun’s nose and says, “I don’t plan on taking Mk to the celestial realm, you goof. I plan on staying here on earth and at night, I will train Mk. And plus, the celestial realm has gotten a bit stale. You have room for one more?”

Mk’s hand glows a soft red from magic. Mischief’s crest appears and hovers on Mk’s back. Once the spell is done, the crest fades away.

“That’s it? Mk is your apprentice now”, Mei asks.

“Yes”, Mischief says. “He is now my apprentice. What were you expecting?”

“A light show”, Mei answers.

“ Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Are you sure you're okay with this, Monkie King”, Mk asks, holding his right hand with his left.

“I’m cool”, Sun says.

“Don’t you mean hot”, Mischief teased. She laughed and Sun chased after her.

A being covered in shadows and mist looks at several maps with multiple dates on the top left corner. A red light whispers in the beings leopard ear. The being laughs and says, “So she’s finally chosen an apprentice. This changes nothing. I will have my revenge, and the moon will pay for what she did to me.”

Here is the first chapter of Monkie Kid: Animal Fury. I kid you not, this took me a week to finish...

Summary: The journey begins as Mk Meets Mischief, the little sister of Monkie King, Sun Wukong.

The YouTube link is what I imagine to be the intro of My FanFiction.

[jabbers-wild-world]

Jabber’s Current Test Muses:

Augustus “Gus” Porter

The Collector

[whosashan]

SELF-DOUBT

PAIRING: Love and Deepspace men x reader (reader is implied to be the MC in Caleb's part)

SYNOPSIS: Doubt creeps in, unraveling the fragile thread between you, pulling you further from him before anything even takes shape. (relationship not established)

A/N: I wrote this with a glint of mischief—hope you enjoy it!

Xavier

You sat on a bench, swallowed by the vast silence of the night. Darkness draped over you like a heavy cloak, its quiet lull almost enough to pull you into slumber. Almost. But no matter how exhausted you were, sleep never came. The streets stretched empty before you, hollow and waiting, save for the restless whisper of leaves dancing in the wind.

Beside you sat a half-empty bottle of wine, an offering to quiet the storm in your mind. But instead of drowning your thoughts, it only seemed to amplify them, making every ache more vivid, every insecurity more unbearable.

You were burning—boiling in the realization of how effortlessly Xavier existed.

How carelessly he moved through life, how mistakes never seemed to chain him down. He would stumble, but he would never fall. And if he did, he would rise again, never sparing the past a second glance.

He was magnetic in ways he didn’t even try to be. People were drawn to him, lured by something unseen, something inexplicable. A presence so commanding, so sure. The kind of certainty you would never know.

And you—you were nothing like him.

Every small misstep clung to you like an unforgiving shadow, dragging you back, keeping you tethered to doubt. You were plain where he was extraordinary. Silent where he was effortlessly captivating. A mere bystander in the presence of someone who burned so brightly, he could outshine even the stars.

You exhaled sharply, pressing your palms against your temple, trying to steady yourself.

You were unfit for him.

He was a constellation—distant, celestial, unreachable. While you were the remnants of a flower long past its bloom, wilting under the weight of your own self-doubt. Once, perhaps, you had been something more. But now? Now you were just a shell of what you wished to be.

The thought alone made your head throb, your chest ache in that quiet, suffocating way that reminded you you were still alive.

How ridiculous—how utterly foolish—to believe you could ever be his equal. That you could be worthy of his attention, his time, his kindness. The very same kindness so many others already fought for, already deserved far more than you ever could.

Your gaze drifted upward, meeting the expanse of the sky. A tear slipped free, streaking down your flushed cheek. You let it fall. For once, you wished you could have something that was meant to be yours. Just one thing. Just this.

But fate had never been kind. And you had long since learned that some wishes were never meant to be answered.

Your phone buzzed, the brightness of the screen making you squint.

"You up?"

Xavier.

Probably wanting to watch a movie, play that new game he wouldn’t stop talking about. Something easy, something simple.

But doubt had already woven its way into your bones. You weren’t going to reply. You weren’t going to pretend.

And then, the phone rang.

You should have ignored it. You should have let it ring into oblivion. But maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the ache in your chest—whatever it was, you answered.

"So you're not asleep."

His voice was soft, wrapped in that familiar gentleness you had always admired. No matter what happened, no matter what he said, there was always that warmth beneath his words.

It was unbearable.

"You should stop contacting me." The words spilled from your lips before you could stop them, sharp and cruel, colliding violently with the tenderness of his voice. "I don’t want to speak to you."

A lie. A desperate, pathetic lie.

Silence. You could almost picture his expression—the slight furrow in his brows, the way his lips would part just slightly in confusion.

"What are you talking about?" His voice, once steady, wavered with the weight of worry. "What happened?"

You hated it. Hated that he cared. Hated that he was giving you an out, a chance to explain. Hated that he was proving, yet again, that he was good, too good.

And you? You were selfish. Weak.

"Goodnight, Xavier."

You didn’t wait for his response. Didn’t let yourself hesitate. You hung up, turned off your phone, and let the silence settle in.

It was just you and the stars now.

You wondered if he was looking at them too. If he could feel the weight of your absence the way you felt the unbearable gravity of his presence.

For now, you convinced yourself you were doing him a favor. Letting him go. Giving him the freedom to chase something greater, something more.

Because that something could never be you.

Zayne

Zayne was the kind of man who belonged to the world. A man of purpose, of unwavering resolve—one who mended shattered lives and stitched together the fragile threads of existence. He was a savior, a beacon, the kind of person people clung to in their darkest moments, the reason they saw another sunrise.

And you hated how much you envied him.

Because you, too, had once longed to be someone like that—needed, irreplaceable. Someone whose absence would be felt, whose existence bore meaning beyond the mundane. But the truth was far less poetic. You were no savior, no guiding light. You were painfully, cruelly ordinary.

Drifting through life on autopilot, grasping at dreams that always seemed just beyond reach. And then there was him—Zayne, the ever-composed gentleman. The embodiment of grace under pressure. Always calm. Always certain. Always right. And perhaps, in some twisted way, that certainty made you resent him. Because deep down, a part of you whispered—maybe you could have been that, too. Maybe, in another life, you would have stood beside him as an equal.

But you weren’t his equal. You were a footnote in his story, an afterthought. And it was foolish—so terribly foolish—to believe you had ever belonged in his orbit. To think, even for a fleeting moment, that you were worthy of his time, his presence, his affection.

Yet a quiet, desperate part of you clung to the fragile hope that perhaps—just perhaps—he needed something ordinary to anchor his brilliance. That in the midst of his immaculate world, he might have craved something simple, something real. That maybe, against all logic, there had been a space for you beside him.

But hope was a dangerous thing. And you had long since learned to silence it.

The notification of a new message shattered the silence of your thoughts. You glanced at your phone, breath hitching as Zayne’s name appeared on the screen.

"You’ve been awfully quiet these past couple of days. Is something bothering you?"

Your fingers hovered over the screen, but you didn’t type a response. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

You had become quite skilled at keeping your distance. At building walls around the parts of yourself that longed for him in ways you couldn’t control. And now, as your feelings for him grew into something perilous, something unbearable, your instinct was to retreat. To destroy what little remained before it could destroy you.

You prayed he wouldn’t push. That he would let you slip away unnoticed. But deep down, you knew better. Because Zayne was kind. So painfully, frustratingly kind. And his kindness made you furious.

You didn’t want his concern. You didn’t want his pity.

And then—the phone rang.

You stared at it, heartbeat hammering in your ears. For a moment, you almost answered. Almost let yourself believe in the impossible.

But instead, you let it ring.

It was better this way. That’s what you told yourself. That’s what you would keep telling yourself, over and over again, until the bitterness was all that remained.

Every time you stepped outside your apartment, a quiet dread curled around your ribs, squeezing tight. You feared crossing paths with him—not because you despised him, but because you feared what his presence would unravel within you. Would he say anything? Would he even care?

You followed a familiar path, the one your feet had traced countless times before. The setting sun stretched long, spindly shadows across the pavement, casting the world in hues of gold and sorrow. The evening breeze whispered against your skin, grounding you in the present, yet your mind was elsewhere—trapped in memories you had no strength to relive.

You sought solace in the scent of coffee beans and freshly baked pastries, in the soft murmur of a café that had once been a haven. But even that, it seemed, was not yours to keep.

As you scanned the display, preparing to order, a voice—low, steady, unmistakable—cut through the air behind you.

"A slice of cheesecake for me, and—" a pause, deliberate and weighted, "_____ for the lady."

Your heart clenched. Heat bloomed in your cheeks. You didn’t turn around—you couldn’t. But your fingers curled at your sides as if bracing for impact.

He remembered.

Even after everything, he still remembered.

Silence stretched between you like a fragile thread, taut with everything left unsaid. You should have walked away. You should have spoken, filled the empty space with something, anything. But hope—foolish, insidious hope—kept you rooted in place.

"Would you grant me a moment of honesty?" His voice, smooth and measured, held an undertone you couldn't quite place. A plea? A demand? Perhaps both.

You swallowed, your gaze fixed on the counter. "I'm not sure what you'd like to talk about."

"Come now," he said, his tone impossibly gentle, "do not insult my intelligence—or yours—by feigning ignorance. We are both aware of the distance you have so carefully placed between us. I only wish to understand why."

There it was. Direct, articulate, impossible to misinterpret.

Panic stirred in your chest, a quiet, insistent thing.

"Zayne, please—"

"Please what?" His voice softened, yet his words remained precise, deliberate. "Pretend I have not noticed your absence? Ignore the way you avert your gaze, as if the very sight of me has become a burden you can no longer bear? Is that truly what you wish of me?"

Your breath hitched.

"Sometimes," you whispered, "some things are best left unknown."

You turned before he could see the way your expression crumbled. Before he could see the way your hands trembled at your sides.

The café door chimed as you stepped outside. The reason you had come here in the first place—the pastry he had ordered for you—lay forgotten.

But he didn’t follow.

He didn’t reach for you.

And that, somehow, was the cruelest part of all.

Left standing in the empty hollow of your own choices, you wondered—was this truly the only way? Or had you simply chosen the path that hurt the most, just to prove to yourself that you still felt something at all?

Rafayel

It was all too easy to drown in self-doubt when standing beside Rafayel.

He moved through life with an effortless grace, as if uncertainty had never dared lay its hands on him. Confidence clung to his every step, an unshakable certainty in the way he spoke, the way he created, the way he existed. No matter the circumstance, he would find a way—because that’s just the kind of person he was.

And you? You were a spectator in his orbit, a mere shadow to his brilliance.

You hated how easily he captivated others, how rooms seemed to hush when he entered, drawn in by the cruel beauty he possessed—not just in his features, but in his very being. There was something infuriatingly magnetic about him, something that made people linger, hoping for even a fraction of his attention.

And you? You lingered too.

Not because of his art, though his talent was undeniable. Not because of the way the world adored him, though it was impossible to ignore. But because he was him—a force of nature, a storm and a masterpiece all at once.

You tried to keep up, you truly did. But no matter how quickly you ran, he was always ahead. Already reaching new heights, already standing atop mountains you hadn’t even begun to climb.

Rafayel was the ocean—vast, unknowable, and devastatingly beautiful. Deep with mysteries, with uncharted depths you would never be allowed to explore. You had always been afraid of drowning, but with him, you almost welcomed it.

How pathetic.

You resented how easily he had wrapped you around his finger, how effortlessly he kept you tethered without even noticing. You were there, always there, like a loyal dog at his heels, waiting for scraps of attention, pretending it was enough.

But it wasn’t. And deep down, you had always known it wouldn’t be. You wanted to be selfish, just this once.

Because one day, he would move on. He would walk into a world filled with greater things, greater people, and you would be left behind—forgotten, discarded, chained to memories he would not care to revisit.

You refused to let that happen. You refused to be another fleeting thing in his life, another season passing unnoticed. So, you did the only thing you knew how to do—you vanished before he could make the choice himself. You let yourself slip away, gradually, like the last breath of winter surrendering to spring.

Your phone buzzed. Unread messages. Missed calls. His name appearing again and again on the screen.

You read them. Or, at least, you skimmed the words before doubt crept in, wrapping itself around your throat like an invisible hand. You couldn’t do this. Couldn’t let him see you like this, drowning in the weight of emotions you could never voice.

"Cutieee, did you forget about my art exhibit??? You were supposed to be there."

No, it was better this way. You would return to the life you had before him—a quiet, simple life, untouched by the chaos he had introduced into your world. A life of routine, of predictability. That was what you needed, wasn’t it?

Then why did it feel like suffocating?

You exhaled, sinking deeper into the couch. The room was messier than usual—evidence of his recent visit, his presence lingering in every overturned book, every misplaced sketch, every forgotten jacket draped over the chair.

You refused to clean it up. Not yet.

Not yet.

Your fingers hovered over your phone, mindlessly scrolling—until an advertisement flashed across the screen.

His new exhibit. His name in bold letters, his work displayed for the world to marvel at.

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if that would erase the ache in your chest. As if it would silence the part of you that still longed to be near him, even now.

But longing was dangerous. It was cruel, deceptive.

Your jaw tightened as you closed your phone, fingers moving with practiced finality. One tap. Then another.

Blocked.

You shut your eyes, swallowing down the lump in your throat, willing yourself to believe the lie you had been repeating for days.

It’s okay.

You’ll figure it out.

Even if it kills you.

Sylus

The night air curled around you like an old lover—cold, indifferent, familiar. It filled your lungs, sharp and biting, yet no matter how deeply you inhaled, it wasn’t enough. You were suffocating, drowning in something invisible, something that clung to your ribs like a parasite.

The glass of wine in your trembling hand felt like an anchor. Heavy, grounding. The very same wine Sylus had once recommended, his voice smooth as he described its velvety texture, its lingering finish. You had listened, hung onto every syllable, because that was what you did with him. You listened. You remembered. You cared. And you hoped he did, too.

Your reflection in the glass balcony doors was pitiful—ruined mascara streaking your face like ghostly remnants of hope, smudged lipstick from where you had worried at your lip too many times. You looked desperate. Because you were desperate. And wasn't that the most humiliating thing?

You were nothing more than a fool playing house in a mansion you were never meant to enter. A child trying to hold onto a storm and then crying when it slipped through their fingers.

Because it had slipped.

You had slipped.

Sylus had made you believe, even if only for a fleeting moment, that you could be something—someone—to him. That you were different, special. That the way his gaze lingered meant something, that his rare smiles were meant for you alone.

What a lie. What a cruel, beautiful lie.

You tilted your head back and emptied your glass in one swallow. The burn was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the fire in your chest.

Foolish.Pathetic.Naïve.

You had let yourself believe you could matter to a man like Sylus.

Sylus, who was untouchable. Who could have anything and anyone. A man whose very presence commanded rooms, whose name carried weight heavier than entire empires. He was revered, feared, an unstoppable force of nature.

And you?

You were nothing.

A momentary amusement, an interlude between greater things.

The worst part?

He had never once given you a reason to think this way. Never lied to you. Never made empty promises.

No—this was all you. Your own mind, your own doubts, curling around you like a noose, squeezing, whispering, you are not enough, you were never enough, you will never be enough.

Your phone buzzed against the railing, the sudden vibration slicing through the quiet. You didn't need to look to know who it was.

Sylus.

Of course.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, but you didn’t answer. Not yet. Instead, you let your eyes fall to the lock screen, to the photo you refused to delete—Sylus, asleep, his features unguarded, softened in a way you rarely got to see. It had been a stolen moment, a cruel mercy the universe had given you, because you had wanted to believe he was yours in that moment.

But he wasn’t.

And he never would be.

Your chest ached so deeply it felt like your ribs would crack under the pressure.

You should block his number. End it now before it consumes you whole.

But you couldn’t. Because you were weak. Because even now, when every voice in your head screamed at you to run, you wanted him to call again.

You wanted him to tell you you were wrong.

You wanted him to chase after you, to demand answers, to prove you wrong.

But he wouldn’t.

Because Sylus didn’t need you.

And maybe, just maybe, that was the most painful part of it all.

With a heavy exhale, you turned off your phone, shutting out the only person who had ever made you feel alive.

For now, you would convince yourself this was the right choice.

That you were doing this to protect yourself.

That you weren’t just running away before he had the chance to leave first.

Caleb

Oh, how much you loved and hated that man.

Caleb, the golden child. The one who had always been effortlessly everything.

The one who turned heads when he entered a room—not just because of his sharp jaw or the way his stupidly soft hair always fell into his eyes, but because he was Caleb. Because he had that energy, that confidence, that natural magnetism that made people want to be close to him.

And you—well, you were just the one who had always been there.

The one who followed a step behind, the one who laughed at his ridiculous jokes even when they weren’t funny, the one who made sure he stayed grounded when his reckless nature got the best of him. His constant. His safe place.

But never his choice.

Never the one he reached for in the way you reached for him.

You let out a slow breath, staring at the ceiling of your dimly lit room, your fingers gripping your phone like it was the only thing anchoring you to reality. The screen glowed softly, Caleb’s name lighting up in the dark.

Missed call.

Another missed call.

A message: "Pipsqueak, Where are you? You good?"

It was almost funny. Caleb always knew when something was wrong. Always had that frustrating intuition when it came to you.

And yet—he never really knew.

He didn’t know what it was like to stand beside someone so bright, so undeniable, and feel like you were flickering out. Like you were just background noise in a song that was never really yours.

You clenched your jaw, heart twisting painfully. It was suffocating—this love, this stupid, unwanted love that had lodged itself in your ribs, too deep to remove without destroying something vital.

God, how had it come to this?

When had your best friend become the thing that hurt you the most?

You weren’t even sure when the shift happened. Maybe it was the first time you realized how beautiful he looked under streetlights, his laughter warm enough to make your chest ache. Or maybe it was when you started noticing the way his lips curved just slightly before he smirked—like he already knew exactly what you were thinking. Maybe it was the nights he snuck to your room just to ramble about some nonsense, and you let yourself believe—for those fleeting moments—that you were the person he wanted to be with.

Maybe it had always been this way, and you were just too blind, too hopeful to acknowledge it.

But hope was a dangerous thing. And you were so tired of losing to it.

Your phone buzzed again. Another call.

You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers trembling.

You wanted to answer.

You wanted to hear his voice, let him pull you back in with that stupid, teasing warmth, let him fix this in the way only Caleb could—without even realizing what needed fixing.

But you couldn’t.

Because every second you spent with him, you fell a little deeper. And Caleb… Caleb never even noticed he was holding the rope that could either pull you up or let you drown.

Your throat burned as you stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the call.

And for a moment—just a moment—you let yourself imagine what it would be like. If you answered. If you told him everything. If you laid your heart bare and let him see just how much of it he had taken without even trying.

Would he laugh? Would he be kind? Would he let you down gently, tell you that you were important to him, but not in the way you wanted?

Or worse—would he pity you?

The thought made something inside you shatter.

No.

You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t let yourself be that vulnerable.

So instead, you did what you had always done. You swallowed the ache, buried the yearning deep where he would never find it, and turned off your phone.

Maybe in another life, things would have been different.

Maybe in another life, Caleb would have looked at you the way you looked at him.

But in this one?

You were meant to love him in silence.

And he was never meant to hear it.

[aventurineswife]

Hi! Could you make a fallen angel-like reader(similar to a halovian) with Aventurine, Sampo and Dan heng please?

-🩵

“You're my fallen angel in the dark”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Emotional Vulnerability, Slow Burn(?), Fluff and Angst, Gentle Romance.

Warnings: Mentions of Past Trauma, Themes of Isolation and Loneliness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Gambling and Risk-Taking (Aventurine), Light Tension and Danger.

In the dim light of his office, you leaned back on the sleek leather couch, wings folded gently as Aventurine sat across from you, his vibrant eyes fixed on you with that familiar playful spark. The soft glow of city lights framed his figure, lending an almost ethereal hue to his features.

"So, tell me," Aventurine leaned forward, fingers steepled, "what does an angel from the heavens need in a place like this? Surely you aren’t here to save me."

A smirk tugged at your lips. "Maybe I thought you could use a little saving, Aventurine."

He chuckled, the sound rich and smooth, like a well-aged vintage. "Oh, I’m a lost cause, trust me." His tone was light, but you sensed the depth behind it—the carefully guarded wounds he hid behind his charm and wit. As you brushed your hand across the roulette detail on his coat, you noticed his breath hitch, just for a moment.

"But perhaps…you’re not," you murmured, brushing a feather along his hand, sending a ripple of warmth over his cold skin. Aventurine’s hand slipped into yours, fingers interlocking as his eyes held yours. His usually mischievous demeanor softened, vulnerability slipping through the cracks.

"Maybe," he said, his voice softer now, "just maybe. But I think if anyone could change my mind… it might be you."

In that moment, you saw through his mask, felt his hand squeeze yours just a little tighter. And for once, Aventurine felt like more than just the gambler he pretended to be.

The streets were bustling with noise and color as Sampo sauntered beside you, his bright green eyes glinting with his usual playful mischief. You cast a cautious glance his way, aware of his reputation, but something about him—perhaps that underlying sense of survival and charm—had drawn you in, despite your better judgment.

"So," he drawled, nudging you with a grin, "an angel with clipped wings, huh? Seems we’ve got something in common, don’t you think? Both of us can’t quite keep our feet out of trouble."

You chuckled, rolling your eyes as you noticed his hand slide a little too close to your coin pouch. “Funny you’d say that,” you replied, catching his wrist. “Though I think you’re more of the rogue variety than the fallen kind.”

“Guilty as charged.” He shrugged with a shameless grin, freeing his hand but remaining close, as though walking away was the last thing on his mind.

Curiosity sparked within you as you leaned closer, wings shifting around you both like a cloak. “What if I told you I could offer you something better than coins or trinkets?”

“Is that so?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “And what’s that, my angel?”

You took his hand, feeling his pulse quicken beneath your fingers. “Trust, Sampo. Someone who sees through the act.”

For the first time, his laughter faltered, and he stared at you with an expression you’d never seen before—a mix of awe and hesitation. “Careful now, sweetheart,” he whispered, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “You might just get more than you bargained for.”

It was a quiet night on the Astral Express. The stars glowed softly outside the window as you stood beside Dan Heng, wings folded behind you, as silent as the mystery that shrouded him. He glanced over, his blue eyes momentarily meeting yours before he returned his gaze to the starry void.

"I’m not quite sure why you’re here," he murmured, his voice low and reflective. "A place like this… doesn’t seem suited for a celestial being like you."

A soft smile touched your lips as you moved closer, reaching out to brush his hand with yours, gentle and cautious. “Fallen, not celestial,” you corrected. “I lost my way a long time ago.”

He looked at you, and in his gaze, you saw the reflection of his own scars, the history he carried but rarely shared. “And yet, you don’t seem lost,” he said. “You have… a presence.”

You chuckled softly, wings shifting. “I think we have more in common than you realize, Dan Heng. We’re both haunted by what we’ve lost, both searching for something we can’t quite name.”

Dan Heng’s gaze softened, and he allowed himself the smallest, rarest of smiles. “Maybe. But you… have given me something I didn’t think I’d find again.”

You met his gaze, feeling a warmth bloom between you as he reached out, his hand resting against your shoulder—a silent promise, a shared understanding. And there, under the glow of the stars, you knew that neither of you were as alone as you once thought.

[yenyu1s]

you drew stars around my scars.. kang sae-byeok x f!reader

written by @yenyu1s ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)

pairing(s) : kang sae-byeok x f!reader

contents : fluff/comfort, hint of angst, mentions of scars, insecurity, sae-byeok is very berry clingy!

synopsis : while kang sae-byeok slept peacefully, you couldn't help but admire your girlfriend. you couldn't resist the temptation to map out constellations on the freckles dusting her skin, tracing them like tiny galaxies only you can see.

lost in admiration, you didn't notice when she fluttered her eyes open. unbeknownst to you, she had been up the whole time.

as punishment she pulls you into bed trapping you in a lazy morning of warmth, whispered affections, and soft laughter, making you late for work.

wc : 1.29k

taglist : @saebyeokbliss @lunaryoongie @knfthxv @monkey4lifer @saebyeokiesworld @we1rdth0ughts @vigilxntesht @bitchybananaflower @wiltingconquest

(a/n) NOT PROOFREAD YET ACK! hope you all like this sweet little thing <3

a waterfall of golden light seeped through the cracks of the blinds, painting soft streaks across your apartment. it's warmth hummed throughout the tranquil, early-morning atmosphere.

you were the first to wake—a rare occasion. you shuffled in your spot, careful not to disturb the weight of your lover’s embrace, peacefully sleeping, you steadied your breathing, syncing it with the rise and fall of sae-byeok’s chest.

her arms were still swung over your waist, her full body weight trapping you. but you still managed to sit up, you reached for sae-byeok's cheek, the back of your hand caressed her cheek in attempt to try to wake her up.

nothing. she wouldn't budge. lost in the depths of slumber.

you quirked your eyebrows up in amusement, moving your hand to her tough upper arm, tracing over scars and softness alike.

you ran you hand up and down, but still, nothing. sae-byeok slept on, undisturbed, her face serene, the bed beneath her a haven.

you leaned closer to her face, your eyes meeting the tip of her freckled nose, the delicate arch of her cheekbones. what are you dreaming of? you thought to yourself.

the morning haze illuminated every detail of her face, casting a glow upon the constellation of freckles scattered across her skin. you had always adored them—tiny stars mapped across her cheeks, even when she saw them as imperfections. to you, they were stories left by the universe, the softest proof of her existence that you oh, so cherished.

your fingers were warm and slow as they instinctively trace the freckles scattered across sae-byeok's face—tiny constellations born beneath a softer sun.

each one is a map, a story untold, a secret the universe whispered onto their skin. fingertips hover, then dance lightly, following the curve of a cheek, the bridge of a nose, the corner of lips parted slightly in sleep. you traced the nebula on her cheek, planting a featherlight kiss on her warm skin.

before you could see the pink tint that crept up on her face, an idea blooms—a spark of mischief in your still-drowsy eyes.

you swiftly reached for the wooden bedside table on your side of the bed, retrieving the brown gel pen you had used to annotate last night's read.

your lips curled into a mischievous grin, you bit off the cap of the pen, letting it rest between your lips, another playful smirk curled up in the corners of your mouth.

the first mark is soft, barely a whisper of chocolate ink against skin, circling a freckle near the brow, then another, and another.

you let the pen skate at sae-byeok's skin connecting the moles in her face with each other, a dotted line along the cheekbones, a connection from the nose to the jaw. you stifled a laugh, proud at the mapped out constellations you made, celestial patterns of love, traced and claimed in quiet ink.

your eyes trailed to her muscular upper arm, your eyes softening at the scars that whispered her dark past, tracing the faded scars etched into her skin with your eyes—silent remnants of a past she rarely spoke of, a past she tried so desperately to forget. each mark held a story, whispered in shadows and sleepless nights.

with each delicate stroke, you covered her pain in stardust, doodling tiny little stars, letting ink bloom where wounds once lingered. the tiny stars connected, softening the echoes of old nightmares, replacing them with something new—something gentle.

but before you could admire your handiwork further, warmth enveloped you as sae-byeok suddenly pulled you close, her arms tightening around your frame in a firm grip. a lazy smirk played on her lips as your face was pressed into the familiar rise and fall of her chest.

your face scrunched in confusion since just a second ago, her breathing was still steady, still lost in sleep. you lifted your chin to see her face, she was giggling to herself, her voice low and sultry.

your confused squirming only made her chuckle—low and husky, the sound vibrating against your cheek.

"am i your art project now?" sae-byeok murmured, voice hoarse and thick with sleep.

you twirled the pen between your fingers, complaining "were you awake this whole time?"

she casually shrugged, your pouty face made her giggles turn into fits of laughter. "you looked so serious, it was hilarious! i was trying to hold in my laugh, i just couldn't!"

your stubborn exterior finally melted at the rare sight of sae-byeok laughing, thoroughly enjoying herself teasing you, you joined in on the warm laughter, quiet and playful, in the kind of tenderness that lingers long after morning fades.

"thank you, for this." sae-byeok slurred, her voice thick with drowsiness, her eyes narrowed at the ink that was tatted on her arm, earning a shy giggle from you, resting your chin on her shoulders.

she let you hold her a little closer, her body melting into your warmth.

you continued mapping out stars on her face when your house cat, fang, suddenly ambushed the sweet moment by jumping on the bed, pawing at the both of you, weaving between tangled limbs and soft sheets, demanding attention.

you both had adopted the stray cat when you had bought your first shared apartment together, sae-byeok knew how much you loved them and it took her a long time to get used to fang, now she treats him as if it was your child.

"good morning fang." you purred, loosening your grip on the pen to softly pet your beloved cat, your nails scratched at his chin. you planted a soft kiss on top of his tuxedo fur.

you averted your gaze to your lover who was still sprawled beneath you, her expression unreadable as she watched the fuzzy intruder steal your attention. leaning down, you pressed a lingering kiss against her lips, stealing back her focus. she gasped slightly before melting into your touch, her arms instinctively tightening around you.

"i'm going to be late for work. i'll see you later okay?" you murmured into the crook of her neck. before lifting yourself up.

sae-byeok's grip on you tightened, a silent demand to not go. to spend the day with her, she'd take a day off from her awful barista job just to be with you.

"i'll be back before you know it." you whispered sweetly in her ear, your lips locked as sae-byeok planted a longer kiss this time, warm and full of love, a sign of goodbye.

you hummed into the kiss, as much as you wanted to, you had to go to work or else you'd be scolded by your seniors again! you wouldn't want a bad rep in your workplace..

a long sigh errupted from your short-haired girlfriend, but before she could protest further, you slipped out of bed, leaving her and fang curled together in your absence.

as soon as you left, cheol skipped out from his room, stretching his arms out and yawning, satisfied with a good night's sleep.

he passed by the door of your shared bedroom, he took a double take at a downcast sae-byeok, picking herself up to get ready for the day, wandering off to whatever side of the city she would go to before even heading to work.

cheol raised his eyebrow up at the sight of sae-byeok's decorated face, he took in the celestial doodles still marking her skin.

his soft raspy morning voice called out from the hallway, making sae-byeok jolt awake from her half-asleep state, "what's wrong with your face, noona?"

sae-byeok shot his short frame a glare, her lips pursed together, mumbling, "none of your business."

despite her feigned irritation at cheol's innocent question, a smile lingered at the corners of her lips—a quiet, unspoken testament to the warmth left behind by the morning, by you.

[prismatica-the-strange]

I want platonic autistic 4 autistic cuddles with Adam from gotg 3

[solxamber]

hiii~ I saw that you had the tray open 👀 I liked the request about reader angel so I was wondering if I could request something similar with reader being a cherub but a mischievous and rebellious version in addition to keeping his nature a secret and pretending to be a human? (for Jamil, Rook, Vil and Lilia) thanks in advance and have a good day ^^)/

Jamil, Rook, Vil, Lilia with a Cherub! reader.

thank you for the request, I hope you like it!

Jamil Viper

Jamil had always suspected there was something odd about you. It wasn’t just your tendency to show up exactly when something chaotic was about to happen, but the way you somehow managed to always diffuse situations with that sly smile of yours—like you were pulling the strings from behind the scenes. You, on the other hand, were doing your best to pretend you were just another student at NRC.

One day, as he was wrapping up a particularly stressful training session with Kalim, you approached him with your signature grin, holding out what looked like a poorly wrapped sandwich.

“What’s this?” Jamil asked, raising an eyebrow.

“A peace offering,” you said, your eyes twinkling mischievously. “I noticed you’ve been a little, uh, tense.”

Jamil sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Gee, I wonder why…”

You chuckled, nudging him with your elbow. “Come on, Jamil, lighten up! Not everything has to be so serious.”

Jamil eyed you suspiciously but took the sandwich. As soon as he bit into it, his eyes widened. “This… this is amazing,” he said, shocked at how something that looked so amateur could taste so perfect.

“Yeah, well, let’s just say I have my ways,” you said, your smile growing wider. “What? You think I’m just some normal person who stumbled into this school?”

Jamil gave you a sharp look. “Wait… you aren’t just a regular student?”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “I’ll give you a hint: I’m kinda like your own personal guardian angel, except I’m not great at the ‘innocent’ part.”

He blinked, trying to process this. “You’re… an angel?”

“A cherub, technically,” you corrected. “But, you know, I got bored of playing by the rules.”

Jamil stared at you for a long moment, then sighed, shaking his head. “Of course. The one person who actually makes sense around here, and you turn out to be an actual celestial being.”

You grinned, leaning in a little closer. “Don’t worry, I’m on your side.”

Jamil couldn’t help but laugh, the stress from his day melting away as he looked at you. “I’ll hold you to that. Just… maybe don’t tell Kalim?”

“Not a word,” you promised, but your mischievous smile told him that you might not be as innocent as you claimed.

Rook Hunt

Rook had an uncanny ability to sense when someone wasn’t being entirely truthful, and that’s exactly why you loved teasing him. Every time you managed to dodge one of his questions about your past, you could practically feel his intrigue grow.

One afternoon, as you lounged under a tree in the courtyard, Rook approached you with his usual theatrical flair. “Ah, mon cher! The enigma that is you continues to captivate me.”

You grinned up at him, enjoying the attention. “What can I say? I like keeping things interesting.”

Rook knelt beside you, resting his chin on his hand. “But who are you, really? I’ve noticed the way you move, the way you always seem to be in the right place at the right time… surely, you cannot be just another student.”

You stretched out lazily, tilting your head as if considering whether to tell him. “What if I said I’m a cherub, here to cause a little mischief?”

Rook’s eyes gleamed with delight. “A cherub, you say? How fascinating! And yet, cherubs are known for their innocence, are they not?”

You laughed, sitting up to meet his gaze. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m the black sheep of the cherubs. Got tired of sitting around and watching people from afar.”

Rook looked absolutely enchanted. “Ah, how marvelous! A rebellious angel, seeking thrills among mortals. You truly are one of a kind, mon cher.”

You leaned in a little closer, your playful smile never fading. “Maybe I just wanted to keep an eye on you, Rook.”

He placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “To think that such a celestial being would take an interest in me… I am truly honored.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how easily he fell into your playful banter. “Just don’t expect me to be all fluffy wings and harps, alright?”

Rook’s smile was dazzling as he leaned closer. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil was far too observant for his own good, which made hiding your true nature as a cherub a bit of a challenge. You had to be careful, constantly balancing your mischievous streak with maintaining your “normal” student cover.

But one day, as you were sitting in the dorm lounge, Vil glanced at you, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re hiding something,” he said, not bothering to soften the accusation.

You gave him your most innocent smile. “Who, me? What could I possibly be hiding?”

Vil crossed his arms, his gaze never leaving yours. “Don’t play coy with me. I’ve seen the way you handle certain situations with… a peculiar ease.”

You tilted your head, still smiling. “Maybe I’m just good at handling things.”

“Or maybe you’re something more,” he countered, his tone sharp but curious. “Perhaps even something… supernatural?”

You laughed, unable to help yourself. “You’re too good, Vil. Fine, you caught me. I’m a cherub.”

Vil blinked, momentarily taken aback. “A cherub? You’re telling me you’re an angel?”

“Technically,” you said, still grinning. “But don’t get any ideas. I’m not the pure, innocent type.”

Vil stared at you for a moment longer before sighing. “Why am I not surprised?”

You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand. “Maybe because I’m always one step ahead of you?”

Vil smirked, clearly amused despite himself. “That’s a bold claim. And what, pray tell, is your goal here?”

“Maybe I just wanted to see what it’s like to live among humans,” you replied, your voice taking on a more serious tone. “You’d be surprised how different things look from up there.”

Vil watched you carefully, clearly intrigued. “I see. Well, whatever your reason, I can’t deny that you certainly know how to make an impression.”

You winked at him. “Only the best for you, Vil.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Flattery will get you nowhere. But I suppose I’ll allow you to stay… for now.”

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia was no stranger to magic and strange beings, which made it a little too easy for you to keep your secret from him. After all, he’d probably just laugh it off, right?

One day, while the two of you were sitting together after a particularly chaotic training session with Sebek, you decided to drop a little hint about your true nature.

“You know,” you began, leaning back on the bench, “I’m not exactly what I seem.”

Lilia raised an eyebrow, his mischievous smile already in place. “Oh? And what, pray tell, are you hiding?”

You smirked, deciding to go for it. “I’m a cherub. But, you know, the rebellious type.”

Lilia burst out laughing, clapping his hands together in delight. “Ah, I knew there was something different about you! A cherub with a mischievous streak? How delightful!”

You shrugged, grinning. “Got bored of sitting around and being all pure and innocent. Figured causing a little trouble might be more fun.”

Lilia’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Well, you’ve certainly found the right place for that. And here I thought you were just an ordinary human.”

You leaned closer, your voice teasing. “Do I look ordinary to you?”

Lilia chuckled, his smile widening. “Hardly. You’re quite the fascinating creature, aren’t you?”

You winked. “I try.”

Lilia gave you a sly look. “Well, if you ever tire of causing mischief alone, you know where to find me.”

Masterlist

[nixnephili]

Kitsunezai

Posting this on a whim

Here's a little Kitsunezai concept

I always felt like the outfit could be really cool if they could've detailed it a lot more.

When looking at the folkloric feel to Dazai's official Kitsune concept, a few things are identifiable. Here's some stuff-:

-He would be over 100, as kitsune are believed to grow more tails only after reaching that age.

-He's a Yako or Nogitune- which are the more 'morally grey' kitsune. Having a tendency to lean towards mischief and are likely to interact with humans.

-white and black coats of fur are rare, but they are present for nogitune.

In Japanese folk and mythos, kitsune can hold one of 13 powers

celestial, wind, spirit, darkness, fire, earth, river, ocean, forest, mountain, thunder, sound, and time

so they often may wear beads around their necks/ on their person to symbolize the elements

they only wear 12 out of the 13 because they exclude the one element the wearer represents.

So Dazai has 12 beads.

-Nix🌙

[shizuturnspages]

Hiii! Omg I really loved the Khaenri'ah child!!! Would you be willing to write platonic archons with a child who is the daughter or niece of the Heavenly Principels?🙏

Heaven’s Little Star

Synopsis: The Archons find themselves faced with an unusual charge: a child born of Celestia’s will, the daughter (or niece) of the Heavenly Principles. Despite their vastly different personalities and histories with the gods above, they each develop a unique bond with the child, treating them as a precious yet mysterious presence in their lives. Whether out of genuine affection, curiosity, or cautious reverence, the Archons all find themselves drawn to this little celestial being. Pairings: Venti, Zhongli, Raiden Ei, Nahida, Furina, Mavuika x Celestial Child

Venti - The Carefree Guardian

Venti is the first to disregard whatever divine implications surround you. To him, you are not "Celestia’s child" but simply a child who deserves joy and freedom. He takes you on wild adventures across Mondstadt, letting you dance with the wind and sing along to his songs.

However, beneath the lightheartedness, there's a wariness he doesn't speak of. He avoids the subject of Celestia like a plague, but every time you mention your origins, a fleeting look of contemplation crosses his face. He doesn’t see you as a threat, but the history between him and Celestia is complicated.

He spoils you endlessly—dandelion wine is off-limits, of course, but fresh apple cider? Only the best for you. If you ever get upset, he’ll strum his lyre, voice soft as he hums a tune just for you. And if you ever feel trapped by divine expectations? He’ll take you somewhere the stars feel close enough to touch, whispering that no fate is unchangeable.

But even through his mischief, Venti knows what you are. If Celestia ever comes to retrieve you, he’ll be ready to play the trickster, to steal you away like a breeze that refuses to be caught.

“Don’t let them take you back up there, little breeze. The sky is beautiful, but you belong where you can laugh freely.”

Zhongli - The Wise Protector

Zhongli treats you with a mix of reverence and warmth. He is perhaps the only one who truly understands the gravity of your existence. Unlike Venti, he does not ignore your origins—he acknowledges them and prepares accordingly.

“Even the oldest of gods must respect the unknown,” he murmurs when Hu Tao asks why he is so careful with you.

Despite his caution, he ensures you are taught the ways of Liyue’s traditions, history, and philosophy, determined to give you an identity outside your celestial ties. Should you ever express sadness over your connection to the Heavenly Principles, he will kneel before you, placing a steady hand on your shoulder.

“You are not your lineage alone. You are who you choose to become.”

He also spoils you in a different way—gifts of fine tea, calligraphy sets, and jade trinkets are common. He takes you on strolls through Liyue Harbor, explaining the significance of each structure and telling you stories of the past. If you have any celestial abilities, he teaches you how to use them wisely, warning you of their consequences.

Should anyone dare to harm you, the old instincts of the Geo Archon resurface. He may have retired his godhood, but for you, he would summon stone and spear once more.

There is an underlying protectiveness in the way he acts. He never mentions Celestia openly, but there’s a glint in his golden eyes that speaks of caution.

“You must understand,” he murmurs one evening as you sip tea beside him, “power is a responsibility, not a right. No matter where you come from, the choices you make will define you.”

Ei - The Silent Guardian

Ei is distant at first. She does not know how to handle children, much less one tied to Celestia. She watches you carefully, as if expecting divine judgment to be passed at any moment.

But over time, her wariness fades. She begins to teach you the way of the sword, explaining the importance of discipline and strength. If you show an interest in the arts, she encourages it—perhaps as a way to make up for the time she lost with Makoto.

Unlike the others, she does not shower you with affection, but her actions speak louder than words. She ensures you have the best food, the best training, and the best security. If you ever fall asleep in the Tenshukaku, she will sit beside you in silence, keeping watch.

She does not see you as an extension of Celestia, but as an individual. And for that, she is willing to protect you with everything she has.

“If they ever try to take you away,” she says, eyes sharp as lightning, “I will be the storm that tears them apart.”

Nahida – The Understanding Guide

Unlike the others, Nahida understands what it means to be born into something greater than yourself. She sees the loneliness behind your celestial ties, the quiet yearning for normalcy. And so, she does not treat you as a divine being, nor as an anomaly. She treats you as you.

With her, you are allowed to be a child. To learn, to stumble, to grow. She introduces you to Sumeru’s people, lets you play in its forests with the Aranara, and gives you books filled with stories to dream about.

She teaches you dreams and stories, whispering truths and fables alike into your mind as she tucks you in at night. She tells you, “The world is vast, and even the gods do not know everything. If you ever wish to leave the shadow of the heavens, I will help you carve your own path.”

More than anything, she wants you to have the freedom she once lacked. And if Celestia ever tries to take that from you, she will use every ounce of her wisdom to keep you safe.

“No matter what they say you are, you are still you. And that is enough.”

Furina - The Dramatic Older Sister

Furina treats you like a beloved younger sibling—one she absolutely must spoil rotten. You are not just a child in her eyes; you are an audience, a confidant, and a co-star in whatever dramatic performance she has planned for the day.

She insists on dressing you in the finest Fontaine fashion, taking you to grandiose operas and teaching you how to deliver the most elegant of courtly speeches. She showers you with extravagant gifts, sometimes unnecessary, but always dazzling.

But beneath her theatricality, she is aware of the weight of your origins. There is a quiet protectiveness beneath the glitz and glamour. If anyone dares to treat you differently because of your divine bloodline, she will tear them apart with sharp words and sharper wit.

“You may be of Celestia,” she declares grandly, pulling you into an over-the-top hug, “but you are also of Fontaine! And as its beloved citizen, you deserve nothing less than the best!”

She treats you with indulgence, giving you gifts, lavishing you with admiration, yet there is always an underlying tension. She fears the day you might outgrow her influence, or worse—the day you might be taken away.

And if it ever comes to that, Furina, despite all her fears, would stand atop the Opera Epiclese and demand a trial against the gods themselves.

Mavuika - The Fiery Mentor

Mavuika is fascinated by you. She does not fear you, nor does she treat you with excessive reverence. Instead, she welcomes you with open arms, inviting you to Natlan’s grand festivals and teaching you the ways of her people.

She trains you to be strong, to carve your own path despite the divine blood in your veins. If you struggle, she does not coddle you—she pushes you forward, making sure you learn through experience.

But she is not unkind. When the weight of your origins becomes too much, she lets you rest against her, patting your back with a warm, steady hand.

“Celestia may have given you life,” she says with a grin, “but the world is yours to shape. Don’t let them decide who you are.”

[cheynovak]

Top or bottom

Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character     

Summary: One night after beers and jokes, Y/N teasingly asks if Dean is a “top or bottom,” flustering him and sparking laughter.

Warnings: Alcohol, Mentioning: sex. Implied spice, nothing graphic.

English is not my first language 

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*

The bunker was alive with laughter and the clinking of beer bottles, a rare reprieve from the endless hunt. Y/N had seamlessly integrated into the Winchester family, earning the acceptance and admiration of Jack, Sam, and even Castiel, who considered her as steady and reliable as his celestial grace. But Dean? Dean was a different story.

It wasn’t that he disliked her. Quite the opposite, in fact. Y/N was the first woman since Lisa who made him feel something deeper than fleeting attraction. Her laugh softened his rough edges, and her fierce independence made his heart ache with admiration. But Dean Winchester was not a man who easily confronted his feelings, especially the ones that made him vulnerable.

Tonight, the mood was light. Empty pizza boxes littered the war room table, and everyone was a little tipsy. Dean nursed his beer, watching as Y/N, sitting cross-legged on the couch, threw her head back in laughter at one of Jack’s awkward but endearing comments.

"Wait, wait," she said, catching her breath. "Castiel, are you telling me you thought using your angel blade counted as protection?"

Castiel tilted his head in confusion. "Dean told me to use protection. I didn’t understand the context until later."

The table erupted in laughter, and even Cas, ever so stoic, managed a faint smile.

“God, I love this family,” Y/N said between chuckles. “I mean, you all know *so much* about each other. Sam’s stolen Deans porn stash, Castiels awkward first time..."

"Hey!" Dean interjected, pointing at Sam. "That stash was pristine until this guy got his grubby hands on it."

Y/N smirked and swirled the bottle in her hand. “Okay, Deany-boy, since you’re such an open book…” She leaned forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Top or bottom?”

Dean nearly choked on his beer. “What?”

“You heard me,” she teased. “Top or bottom?”

The room went dead silent for a beat before Sam burst out laughing, Jack looked utterly confused, and Castiel tilted his head again, clearly filing the question away for later research.

Dean played it cool, leaning back in his chair. “Top. For sure.”

Y/N tilted her head, locking eyes with Sam as if conspiring. “So, he’s a bottom.”

Sam howled with laughter, and even Jack joined in, though he clearly didn’t get the joke. Dean opened his mouth to retort but was too flustered to find the words.

---

**Later that Night**

The others had gone to bed, leaving Y/N, Jack and Dean to clean up the remnants of their impromptu party. Y/N wiped down the kitchen table while Dean gathered the bottles, his thoughts spinning in circles.

Steeling himself, he stepped in the kitchen opening another two bottles of beer, handing her one over while he seated against the table. “Why do you think I’m a bottom?” His voice was low, roughened by both nerves and curiosity.

Y/N didn’t stop cleaning, but a smile tugged at her lips. Finally she turned to face him, getting closer, standing between his legs, so close he could smell the faint floral notes of her perfume.

“Because, Dean,” she began, her voice soft but sure, “you try so hard to be an alpha. But underneath all that bravado, you’re sweet. Thoughtful. You care about people more than you let on.”

Her hand landed on his chest, "You're a pleaser." he felt the warmth of her touch through his flannel. His heart pounded in his ears.

“Isn’t that what most women want?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Strong men?”

“Maybe,” she admitted, her lips curving into a small smile. “But some of us just want a nice man. Someone who makes us feel safe enough to let go, to show our imperfections. Someone we’d want to…” She paused, her cheeks flushing as she swallowed her nerves, “climb on top of and ride till we see stars.”

Dean’s breath caught as her hand slid up to his shoulder back to his hands, caressing his skin. Her gaze held his, unwavering, her touch warm, like a fire rushing through his veins.

“Someone with strong hands… but who knows how to use them softly.”

He couldn’t stop himself. His hand moved to her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His thumb lingered on her cheek as he stood taller, leaned in closer, their breaths mingling.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice a mix of want and uncertainty. Her hand held on to his flannel. Pulling him in.

But the moment shattered as Jack bounded into the kitchen, the last box of pizza in his hands. “This is the last one!” he announced cheerfully, oblivious to the tension.

Y/N stepped back, her hand falling away as she turned to Jack. “That’s great, Jack. Thanks for helping.”

Dean’s hand dropped to his side, his jaw tightening as he watched her retreat. I made a fool of myself, great! He thought.

But to his surprise she shot him a playful look over her shoulder.

"Are you coming Dean?"

--

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[chknbzkt]

FINALLYYY FIRST CELESTIAL IVE BEEN CHOMPING AT THE BIT TO SHOW THIS-

And a mix of various sketches and drafts!!!

Psst down here v

Since the horrific murder of a nobleman has put many people in the kingdom’s walls off the idea of letting dragons in their midst for the time being, Sundrop’s continued employ under the king as a personal jester and informant has many under the impression that the dragon himself may have had something to do with it, and that his influence is corrupting the monarch in question.

Sundrop, however, thinks the people can believe whatever they want.

While his position gives him plenty of wiggle room to lavish himself with as much luxury as he desires, truthfully he’d much rather be outside the kingdom walls than in them. No, his heart lies with the wilds of Hyde’s Crossing’s ancient forests. His hoard isn’t even as extensive as it should be, consisting of a few plushies, puzzles, and children’s toys here and there, it’s oddly… empty?

So as much as he… appreciates the fluidity, he spends most of his time trying to keep his distance from Farqur Kingdom as often as possible. Before he has to return.

When he isn’t on his perch at the king’s beck and call, he’s running into random adventurers and the odd monster hunter left and right as he continues to peruse the wilds and stir up mischief as per usual. Most of them have been called to action as of late due to the influx of shades razing settlements to the ground when they’ve been left unchecked for far too long, rising to the challenge in the hopes of scoring money to keep themselves afloat.

There have been a few stinkers regarding interactions here and there, but making new friends is still endlessly fulfilling and entertaining on the occasion that they’ll let him get close enough to actually mingle with them proper. He’s content to share stories of his findings and across the land, landmarks, places of interest, the best places to sun oneself and the loveliest fishing spots!!! This boy loves to know people and be known!!!

He never sticks around long enough to say goodbye however. Always leaves in Farqur’s general direction in a big hurry at odd beats in the conversation. Odd fellow. And he never actually clocked where his companion was from, so the chances of them meeting again are slim…

He seems very flighty for someone so pleasant…

[fivefourthreetwoonedoodoodoo]

Noel gallagher is pure, devastating perfection—the kind of beauty that leaves you breathless, aching, undone. Those thick, dark eyebrows frame eyes that hold entire universes, burning with wit, mischief, and something deeper, something only a few would ever truly understand #his face, sharp and striking, is carved like a love song—every angle, every shadow, a lyric I want to lose myself in. And that mouth, spitting poetry and defiance, could bring empires to their knees He isn’t just beautiful; he is celestial, untouchable yet right there, a storm I would gladly let destroy me