#i love him i love him sm

[heatherchasesyou]

REIGEN MY BELOVEDDD

[redr0sewrites]

Today, I gift you...

some of my fav silly little aaravos screenshots!!! i think i found these either here on tumblr or on pinterest :) the aaravos x reader tag is so dead i cant wait for my vacation to be over so i can write for him again! if anyone is willing to write aaravos hcs in the comments i will be extremely grateful- no pressure if u dont want to im just drained rn even if its just what u think his fav color is or sum😭

[avid-idiot]

AGSGJDSVGUDJSNSVJSKSM

[swedenis-h]

Wife lovers till they die

[caveinevitable]

•the swan

(edit: thank you all so so much for 10K likes! ive never recieved this much love for an artpiece of mine on any platform before 🙏🏽.)

(edit: 20K! omg guys! i am so grateful! thanks for all the support.)

(edit: 25K?? i didn’t know there were 25K people who even knew about mouthwashing! this is so nice, and thank you all!!)

[batbrainrot]

he's just a little guy

The Boy Wonder (2024) #2 by Juni Ba

[kidovna]

somewhere out there, heimerdinger just dropped the biggest, most justified ‘i told you so’

[bleucalire]

Smitten, I believe ✨

[dimeadozencows]

My personal understanding of the situation

[eelnoise]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫.

summary: one time zoro pushes your affections away and another time when he begrudgingly accepts them. pairing: zoro x gn!reader cw: none, zoro being a cutie and confused about soft feelings an: just some fluff bc I have a headache and I wanna give him a hug :( wc: 1.2k

it seemed like zoro had always let the oddest things to happen to him.

he’d let chopper climb atop his head, tiny hooves brushing through strands of moss green hair. when the reindeer’s soft fur tickled the skin of his cheeks, he didn’t blink.

he’d let usopp cling to him in fear, idly looking around with a bored expression as the sniper tugged at his hakama or pushed him right toward whatever threat lay before them.

the list goes on and on, the ever stoic swordsman never really putting in the effort to actively resist his crew mates or the occasional curious animal.

with that in mind, you figured that you’d be able to get away with some gestures of your own.

after a particularly rough battle, you’d been so utterly happy that your arms wrapped around the rugged swordsman, squeezing him tight.

you blame it on the adrenaline, not those pesky feelings of yours that you refuse to acknowledge.

it was an innocent embrace, imbued with nothing but affection and glee, yet that didn’t stop him from tensing at your touch.

the next thing you remember is being pushed away, gently but firmly, and feeling dumbfounded.

“the hell are you doing?” he had roughly questioned, brushing off your much-too-sweet touches from his person.

uncomfortable.

he was uncomfortable and he hated it, not particularly fond of feeling so vulnerable from something as simple as a damn hug.

looking between him and your still awkwardly stretched out arms, you come to a sort of realization.

zoro didn’t just let things happen to him. no, he allowed them. every touch and tug and pinch was permitted, actively decided upon by the marimo.

that fiasco was almost a whole week ago, the thousand sunny now barreling through the rolling waves of the sea in the hopes of reaching a winter island.

even as the air became colder, the clouds darker, you continued to simmer.

unjustifiable annoyance creeps into your brain just thinking about how he pushed you away, your cheeks burning with embarrassment and hurt alike.

he didn’t feel that bad.

the swordsman had boundaries, which was understandable, set in place for the sake of self-preservation.

that small flip his heart did when he felt you hug him? the boiling heat that clawed up from his chest to his cheeks and to the tips of his ears? absolutely not.

he didn’t want to deal with that, especially after a fight and with the rest of the crew watching.

it took time for you to adjust your actions, to maneuver around the barriers he’d set in place for himself.

being the stubborn little thing you were, you decided to throw yourself into the jaws of the tiger once more.

you try your luck on a brumal morning, a light frost already starting to form on the deck. it seems like the water is still, the sea easily parting as the ship effortlessly glides on its surface.

the observation deck is your destination, where you’re sure the marimo will be.

and indeed he is, outwardly unaffected by the biting cold.

meticulous as ever, at least when it comes to his craft, he sits on a mat and polishes his blades. shoulders relaxed, but eyes sharp, he goes about his task with precision.

he knows you’ve just entered the observation room, thinking that a nod of his head and a small grunt is enough of a greeting.

the scent of steel and polish hang in the air as he continues, figuring that you’d come in to grab something.

he doesn’t expect to be what you want. what else was he good for besides swinging a damn sword around?

you mask your nerves and step inside, taking brisk steps towards the swordsman. it’s now or never, you think, quick to take a seat behind him on the mat.

with slow and gentle movements, you situate yourself into your preferred position.

your chest presses into his back, the rough material of his shirt not enough to keep you from resting your cheek there.

your inner thighs hug his outer ones, the firmness of the muscle beneath forcing you to hold back a shudder. sealing the deal, you loosely wrap your arms around his midsection.

“good morning.” you mumble, speaking to him as if he were a deer about to bolt.

silence is what you get in return and you wish you could peer into that thick skull of his to see what he was thinking.

warm.

that’s how zoro feels at first, before something akin to discomfort starts to gnaw away at him.

his hands come to a stop, his head lifting as he stared ahead and processed just what the hell you were doing.

there’s a split second of stillness- a period of time where he decides if he wants to revel in your touch or bask in his solitude for a moment longer.

it feels like eons pass before the tension is broken, fizzling into nothing as if it didn’t exist in the first place.

his hands resume their task of polishing his prized swords. the muscles in his body relax and everything else suddenly melts away.

he grants you permission.

he allows it.

“morning.” he grumbles back, speaking with an air of nonchalance that contrasted with how fast his mind was racing.

it’s a delicate balance, as frail as the thin layer of ice starting to form on the glass windows.

you know now more than ever to hold off on the banter and teasing, unless you wanted to get bucked off.

taking what you’ve been given, you’re content enough with releasing a deep breath and letting the rise and fall of his back lull you into a light doze.

time seems to pass slower in this world, in this little pocket of tranquility which exists only for the two of you.

when you finally decide to loosen your grip and pull away, he lets out a noise equivalent to a growl.

he’s almost offended.

one of his hands holds your wrist in place, his grip firm. he’s never been good at displaying tenderness, his words unintentionally gruff. “oi, where are ya goin’?”

he releases your arm, almost daring you to defy him. his muscles relax once more, calloused hands resuming the tedious task of polishing steel as he picks up his next sword.

his tone is softer, spoken as a mumble as if he was afraid of saying too much. “just stay a little longer.”

the request has you momentarily astonished, eyes widening a tad before you got a grip on yourself. your arms settle back around his waist, a pleasant buzz spreading in your chest and down to your toes.

you were well aware that this was a rare opportunity, one that you could not and would not pass up.

so, you let out a sigh and rest your cheek on his back once more.

his aura seems to encapsulate you, making you feel safe and at ease.

he’s satisfied with your reaction, how you effortlessly unwind and how your breaths even out.

once again, he’s warm.

zoro decides that he can spend hours just like this.

for the crew, he could always be a demon. for you? he wouldn't mind being a bit more human.

[jaderavenarts]

This was one of the moments pre-confirmation that made me go OH this man is on the ace spectrum huh lol

[niconcanela]

Pre-team skull Guzma :)

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Nightmare

KANG DAE-HO X READER

Summary- Dae-ho wakes up from a nightmare, with you being the only one by his side to calm him down.

Warnings- Mentions of PTSD, Nightmare, ECT.

A/N- Thank you, @tomgregtruther101 @errruvande @momoko-world @thethreeeyed-raven for encouraging me to write this!

Word Count- 1,223

A low mumble awoke you from your slumber. Typically you were a heavy sleeper, but when it came to Dae-ho it was different. You could have slept through a firework show. Though, the second your beloved got up to use the bathroom- you're up with him.

It bothered the sweet man at first, he hated waking you up. After some reassurance that you didn't mind, he warmed up to the idea. This night, however, was not like many.

It was not uncommon for Dae-Ho to wake up frazzled. He would get something warm to drink from the kitchen, and lay back down. (Praying he didn't wake you). On the much more common occurrence, you would awake with him. In turn, you'd be the one making him something warm to drink, possibly something sweet to snack on. Then the two of you would cuddle until he was fast asleep.

It was honestly comforting for you as well, being able to be his anchor was flattering. He trusted you like no other.

Dae-ho was not Frazzled though, and he didn't wake up to get a beverage.

He was thrashing, hard. His legs slightly kicking, arms jumping up every few seconds. With an impossibly scrunched face, he mumbled again.

"Dae?" You whispered out. The only response you received was a hit to the side, a stray flaring hand had got you.

The mumbling quickly turned louder, now sounding like a cry or groan. It worried you beyond recognition.

"Dae-ho." You pressed a gentle hand to his shoulder. His body jerked away from it. Very uncharacteristic.

A disfigured 'no' left his lips, a struggled sob escaped. He had managed to kick the comforter off of himself, and the bed.

You were now sat on your knees, looming over him. "Dae-ho!" You firmly grabbed both of his shoulders, shaking him.

A loud gasp erupted from both of you as his eyes shot open, you had no time to make a comment. His legs pushed and kicked, separating himself from you. At that singular moment, in his fear struck mind, he didn't seem to recognize you.

He had already found himself against the headboard of the bed, his hands pressing tight against his ears. You had barely blinked in all his movement.

With gaping eyes, a pounding chest, and heavy breathing he looked at you. Almost as if you were the one who hurt him.

"It just me, Dae-ho, its just me..." You spoke as soft and low as you could. You didn't approach any closer, but put your hands up to appear less intimidating.

His eyes just darted across the room in response, body curling further. His lip quivered, face and body drenched in sweat.

"You're okay, you're safe. Dae, you're safe. It's just me... It was just a nightmare, everything is okay..."

He swallowed thick, slowly nodding his head. His gaze now stuck on yours. His scared and nerve wrecked appearance crushed you. It was opposite of the man he appears to show to everyone, only you knew of his nightmares.

"I'm going to come closer, I promise I'm here, I'm real, you're at home. Safe in bed..." You shuffled over on your knees, hands starting at his forearm.

He slightly flinched at your touch, but made no attempt to move away. Your hand caressed across his arm, going to his own hand. You tenderly unravel his tight grip on his head, tangling your fingers in his.

A large sigh left him, his head falling back in frustration. He was now back to reality, though still beat and weary. Water glossed over his eyes. He bit his lip hard, trying to fight away any tears. He thought it would make him seem less of a man to cry in front of you. You couldn't disagree more.

"I'm so sor-" His voice cracked as he tried to speak, a couple tears has managed to escape. You didn't let him finish, his face was pressed deeply into your chest within seconds. He truly didn't know what he was apologizing for, for waking you? For having a nightmare? For his frequent PTSD attacks?

You had quickly taken his frame into your arms. He would have admitted that your knees pressing into his thighs was uncomfortable, but he didn't care right now. You were with him, holding him, and loving him. That's all he cared about.

"Don't you dare apologize, you've done nothing wrong." You cradled his head tight, pressing kisses to the top of his crown.

You managed to twist the two of you around, your back now against the headboard with him in your lap. He was quiet for awhile, you simply rocked him back and forth for a little bit.

His arms found themselves wrapped around your waist. He held onto you for dear life... Almost as if you'd fade away if he let go. You heard his breathing shake every few breaths, but he was calming down.

Continuing to rock, you reached your hands up to his hair. It was half up, half down. The hair tie pulled out of his hair easily enough. You were able to considerably comb through his hair with your fingers. A simple action you knew he loved.

While one hand worked at his soft black hair, another rubbed circles on his back. "Feeling better?"

He sniffled, leaning up to look at you. He couldn't meet your eyes, almost embarrassed. His meek, "Thank you." was accompanied by a nod.

You brushed through his hair, even with him sat up. "Want to talk about it?" You never wanted to pressure him into anything he wasn't comfortable with.

"Just the typical... but you were there, you were who I was shooting... It was like you were the enemy... I just- I can't describe it.. It made no sense-." His voice shook again, so you interrupted him.

"Exactly, baby. It was a nightmare that will never happen... Because I know you would never hurt me, that you would do anything to protect me?" Your tone implied a question.

He nodded furiously, now making direct eye contact. There wasn't a phrase he agreed more with. He looked at you like a loyal puppy.

"See? It was your sweet little mind playing mean tricks on you..." You rested a flat palm to his cheek. Taking in how handsome he looked in the moonlight.

He puffed, now more light hearted, and fell back onto your chest.

"I promise I will keep you safe from all the nightmares and mind games." He was frustrated at your words.

"But that's supposed to be my job..." He said, face conveniently still upon your breast.

You smiled warmly, "Yes, it is. And you fulfill it perfectly. I couldn't be happier. But, you must let me take care of you as well..."

He didn't respond, his internal monologue had a million points to argue back. But he didn't. He embasked in the moment, squeezing you tight again.

You took the silent request, resuming your back rubbing and head scratching.

From experience, you knew he would not fall asleep any time soon. That you'd probably fall asleep before him, no matter how hard you tried to stay up. All you could do for now was whisper how much you love him, play with his hair, and hum silly melodies.

And he was content with that.

A/N- Okay, so erm. I feel like it was rushed (it was), but I also feel that way about all my works. So... Please let me know how I can improve. Also this is my first time writing something like this, so I hope it wasn't terrible. XOXOXOX LOVE YALL

[redr0sewrites]

pls this is so yummy‼️ everyone go read it rn

Star-Crossed Lovers (Aaravos x Reader)

Trigger Warning: Angst, a brief allusion to sex if you squint but nothing at all explicit. Potential grammatical errors that come from writing after drinking half a bottle of sangria.

Summary: Thousands of years in the past, you find love between stacks of old magic books. Unfortunately, the world doesn't want you and Aaravos together.

2.3k~ words

Before Aaravos, your days are spent surrounded by books. 

The daughter of a widowed mother, you are nothing but thankful for your apprenticeship at Elarian’s royal library. The kingdom outside suffers with famine and disease, so you keep your head down and count your blessings for the small wage you earn that you are able to send to your mother. 

Not that you don’t love the books, of course. They provide a comforting hug between their covers, and on especially bad days where the despair seems too much to bear, you often imagine yourself taking a nap in them, pulling the pages up beneath your chin like a blanket. 

It is in the library that you first met him. 

You murmur to yourself underneath your breath, mentally counting the shelves as you put away returned books. Turning to survey the cart you pull behind you, you’re too late to stop yourself from running into the tall man in your path. 

You both tumble to the ground, books raining down around you as the cart is knocked over in your fall. 

You mumble an apology, head down as you scramble to pick up the fallen volumes. A speckled hand stops you by grabbing your wrist, and you look up to its source in shock. As you gaze into the purple face of the elf before you, you realize two things: first, that who you ran into was not a man at all, and second, that he was the most beautiful being you had ever laid eyes upon in your life.

“Not to fret,” he stands languidly, drawing a curious shape in the air. The books fly back to their places on the shelves as if they had been there all along. He stoops down and offers you a hand, a small smile on his face. “No harm done, see?” 

The deep baritone of his voice has left you speechless, and you can only stare at his hand held expectantly out in front of you. You grab it with a shaking grip, relishing in the way it tightens against your own as he pulls you up. 

You don’t know what to say as you stand before him, significantly shorter than he and much more insignificant. Elves aren’t common in Elarion; in fact, this is the first time you’ve ever seen one with your own two eyes. But they have always fascinated you, especially the tales of their wonder and magic that you’ve read about in your books. You’ve always longed for the chance to meet one. 

So of course, not that you’re standing less than two feet away from one, the first thing out of your mouth is, “What are you doing here?” 

To your great chagrin and relief, the elf tips his head back and laughs, a joyous sound that you makes you want to both listen to it for the rest of your life and slap your hand over his mouth so your boss won’t come stamping down the aisles to see what all the commotion is about. 

“You humans do have such a way with words, don’t you?” He contemplates with a certain gleam in his eye, the twisted smile never fully leaving his face. His gaze flicks to the now empty cart behind you and back. “I’m looking for a very specific book, perhaps you can help me find it?” 

And so you lead him through the shelves to a book on ancient Draconic runes, so old that its spine is cracked and the pages yellow. The elf flips through it gingerly, humming in approval. 

“Excellent. When must I return it?” 

“Keep it for as long as you need it,” you find yourself saying, even though the library’s policy is only a week for such. “It’s a great book, you can’t possibly learn everything from just one read-through.” 

The elf raises a single white eyebrow. “Oh? You’ve read it?”

You flush under his curious gaze, averting your eyes back to the floor. “Magic intrigues me,” you say, fiddling with the sash of your dress. It dawns on you then how you must look to him: poor, dirty, a wanna-be scholar in patched robes when compared to his elegance. “T’is nothing but a flight of fancy.” 

A slender lilac finger lifts your chin to meet his gaze once more. He moves close to you, the sudden proximity making s blush spread across your cheeks despite yourself. “Thirsting for knowledge is not something to ever be ashamed of.” His golden eyes peer into yours with such sincerity that you can’t look away despite how such closeness would appear to an onlooker. 

Just as quickly as it came, it was over as the elf took a step back from you just as the head librarian turned the corner. “There you are! There’s more books to be shelved up front, come on!” 

He grabs your wrist and pulls you away before you can protest. You look over your shoulder at the elf, who watches you with that damned smile until you pass out of his sight. 

    ~~~

You’re shocked the second time you meet him, standing beside the small desk in the furthest corner of the library you’ve been granted. You never thought that you’d see him again, nor that he would seek you out personally. His face brightens when he sees you approach, the shimmer on his cheeks seeming to shine with more vigor. 

“I find myself in need of more references,” he produces a rolled piece of parchment from the inside of his robes and hands it to you. “Perhaps you can help me?” 

You read over the list of titles and meet his expectant gaze. “I th-think the head librarian might be more help than I.” You curse yourself internally for stuttering, but there’s just something about this charismatic elf that leaves you flustered. 

The elf chuckles and grabs a lock of hair that had fallen into your face, tucking it behind your ear. You freeze as his fingers graze your reddened cheek, afraid that any movement will acknowledge just how dazed he leaves by his presence alone. “I do not want the head librarian to help me, I want you, (Y/n).”

You attempt to gulp back the shivers that race up your spine at hearing him say your name. “Th-that’s not fair. You know my name and I don’t know yours.”

The elf trails his fingers down your arm, his fingers twining your own for such a small fraction of a second you’d wonder if it had really happened if not for the way jerked his arm back at the touch. He seems to compose himself for a moment before letting his usual coy smile spread across his face. He presses his right hand to his breast, inclining his head down to you. “Aaravos, at your service, my lady.”

This time, you do nothing to fight the blush that blooms across your cheeks. 

~~~

He returns every day after that. Now, your days are not only spent with books, but with Aaravos. 

    Hours pass by with you sitting next to him, your heads bent conspiratorially over books as you debate their topics. You try to ignore the way his gaze lingers on your form as your job eventually pulls you away from your secluded corner of the library, or the accidental feather-light touches over your shoulders as he reaches for a tome over your head. You tell yourself that these actions have no hidden meaning, that Aaravos has lived for millenia and could never be interested in such a poor human.

You are but a blip in his incredibly long life span, and your feelings of infatuation will fade when he inevitably moves on to something much more interesting. But the way your steps quicken as you walk to the library every day, the way your day brightens at the sight of him is no lie. You’ve fallen head over heels in love with the elf. 

“I want to show you something.” Aaravos says suddenly. You put down the book you’d been in the middle of shelving to look at him. “Can you meet me on the roof here, at midnight?” 

As if you could ever say no to him.

And so that is how you find yourself huddled on the roof of the library, the full moon casting a cool glow over the rooftops of Elarion as you wait for him. You shiver slightly as a cool breeze sweeps by, only to be enveloped by warmth a moment later. 

Aaravos clasps his cloak around you, chuckling to himself at the way it pools at your feet. You burrow into it, releasing in the warmth and scent of him. His white hair gleams pale in the moonlight as he spreads out a blanket for you to sit on. You resist the urge to run your fingers through it, instead turning your attention to the brilliant smattering of stars above your head. 

“They’re beautiful,” you breathe, eyes alight with wonder. 

“Indeed you are.” You’re hyper-aware of how close Aravos is to you, only a hair's-width away. Your motions bubble up underneath your skin, and you can’t stop the words that pour out of your mouth. “I wish you wouldn’t tease me so.” 

The elf looks absolutely anguished, and guilt curls in your stomach at causing him pain. “I truly do believe you beautiful, my starlight.” You force yourself not to get distracted by the endearment, looking him square in the eye with what you conveys your seriousness. “I don’t understand, Aaravos. You are an elf- powerful, strong, magical. Everything I’m not. How can you possibly find me beautiful? Why do you keep coming back?” 

A fond smile pulls at his lips, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning into his hand as it cups your cheek. The stars on his skin twinkle brighter than those above you as he moves in close. “You are so much stronger than you think. Not to mention funny, witty, and so intelligent. You are unlike anyone I have ever met in all my years, human, elf, or otherwise.” He wipes away the tears that have begun to overflow down your face. “How could I not fall in love with you?” 

That last part is no louder than a whisper, his lips brushing yours before he finally pulls you into a searing kiss. He groans into you, a deep, guttural sound that has you quaking to your core. The kiss grows more fervent as you press yourself to his chest, your fingers tracing the pinpricks of light that litter his skin. He lays you back onto the blanket, and that night shows you just how much he truly loves you so that you will never need to question it again. 

~~~

“I call it dark magic.” 

In one hand Aaravos holds flickering flame painted black. In the other, he holds a withering phoenix feather. 

You can barely contain your curiosity as you examine the black fire he holds further. “How does it work?” 

With a wave of his hand, the fire is extinguished, and he replaces it with your hand as he pulls you close to him. “I’ll explain everything to you later, just know that I have found a way to keep us together, forever.” 

You hum contentedly into his chest as his arms wind themselves around you. Whom else could boast that someone loves them to the point of creation?

~~~

Elarian is on fire. 

You can only watch in horror as your beloved library is burned to the ground, going up in flames as fast as a forest in drought. A roar sounds in the distance, and through the smoke on a nearby hilltop you can see the outline of a monstrous dragon. In front of him, a flash of white hair that you could identify even in your sleep. 

With burning lungs, you fight your way through the crowd of confused townspeople fleeing from the dragon. You stumble up the hill, clothes singed and covered in soot. 

“You have violated the sacred order of our magic.” The dragon rumbles, his light blue scales a stark contrast to the burning red around you. 

“I have violated nothing!” Aaravos shouts, shoulders shaking in a rage you have never seen from him. “I work to unite elves and humans together!” 

It is then that he notices you. You reach for him, and he catches you just before you collapse to the ground. He brushes the soot off your face as best he can, doing his best to comfort you despite the fear shining in his eyes. “I’ll get us out of this, my love. I promise.” 

The dragon watches the two of you in stony silence. He raises his claw, drawing a rune in the air. 

A flash of white light blinds you, and the last thing you comprehend is Aaravos’s howl of fury. 

~~~

Time passes differently here, in the replica of the library where you’d once worked. You spend your days, or what you think are days, at least, reading and putting away books. Just as you’d always done before Aaravos came into your life and turned it into something wonderful. 

You’ve long figured out that this is not your actual library, merely an illusion built to keep you complacent. Imprisoned. Anger churns in you. Imprisoned for what? Loving one whom the world deemed you not meant to love. Loving one who would go so far as to invent a magic just for you, so that you may wield it as your own and never grow old by his side? 

You are anything but complacent in your prison disguised as your paradise. Aaravos will come for you, you’re sure of it. And when he does, the both of you will get your revenge on all those that had conspired to keep you apart. 

And so you sit patiently and wait, for nothing can keep two star-crossed lovers apart for long. 

Don't forget to like and reblog! Requests are open, check my pinned post for more details!

[volukyrja]

I will not fail

[wanderingibon]

" I noticed that you've been smiling more, Lucanis. "

" ...Have I? ...Si, I suppose I have been. "