#i promise i will finish all of these artworks
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Hiii Tumblr folks, I was away for a few days, here's a Bolas animatic teaser for your troubles <3
#work in progress#qsmp animatic#qsmp fanart#my artwork#guys I hope to finish this this week but no promises but like it's all i can think about and work on so pray for me okay bye
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cyno my love
#twitter is terrible right now and i dont rly wanna post art there rn#thats ok now we can all look at cyno#i still have other stuff to finish but this came out of nowhere. i promise im still working on ssss stuff guys#cyno#genshin impact#how the hell do i tag this. whats his last name#cyno genshin impact#i guess.#anyway i finally watermarked my art in what is theoretically the worst way ever.#BUT i hate covering up my art and i hate compressing it#i dont like looking at compressed artwork i want to see all the details so that is why i leave mine as they are#a good and sustainable practice? no. but i am not a big artist anyway so its fine. probably#my art#ANYWAY. can we all think about cyno for a second. can we just think about him. he is so beautiful to me. i like him so much#the plume in his hair was inspired by 'as the scarlet sands' by shyjinks#because i LOOVE the idea of cyno wearing jewelry
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I had fun with the water color pen I found and now I have the new Soteria arc outfit done! (Totally didn't put this off for a month or so)
#sorry to my friend who plays this character#i took forever!!!!#i finished this a few weeks ago but just havent posted it#i wanted to go all out with the colors so this isnt usually what i do (to anyone who sees this and hasnt seen my other art)#i have stuff#i promise...#dnd characters#dnd art#dnd character#dnd#dungeons and dragons#teifling#art#artwork#digital art#my art
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I quite enjoyed reading your Truten headcanons! Would you mind if I shared some of my own?
Hey of course, thank you for the prompt as well. I've always thought that if this scenario has been headcannon-ed to death then when I share what I thought would happen then it wouldn't be original haha.
I haven't had enough practice in story structuring or building (and sometimes I forget important details and don't remember them until I finish with the whole thing) so I prefer to draw snippets of what I want to convey. But I'll try my best to share some ideas and hcs (that are original, lol). However, I am boring and sappy so most of my ideas are pretty tame and purely based on just wanting truten to be happy and healthy, just FYI 🥹
#dragon ball#dragon ball z#db#dbz#dbz headcanon#truten#MMask#fun fact i love goten to death so i also ship him with valese#or better yet my ot3 is trutenpari (them as a polycule)#so i have 3 sort of what-ifs/au/universes etc. i love to explore#either truten get together or tenpari get together or trutenpari all as a polycule!!!#i made some artworks to explore this. just gotta finish them lol 🥹#but i love truten to death i promise 😭 in fact the brainrot never goes away lol
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The thing with the Mari Lwyd, though, is that it's being... I don't know, 'appropriated' is the wrong word, but certainly turned into something it isn't.
Thing is, this is a folk tradition in the Welsh language, and that's the most important aspect of it. I feel partly responsible for this, because I accidentally became a bit of an expert on the topic of the Mari Lwyd in a post that escaped Tumblr containment, and I clearly didn't stress it strongly enough there (in my defence, I wrote that post for ten likes and some attention); but this is a Welsh language tradition, conducted in Welsh, using Welsh language poetic forms that are older than the entire English language, and also a very specific sung melody (with a very specific first verse; that's Cân y Fari). It is not actually a 'rap battle'. It's not a recited poem. It is not any old rhyme scheme however you want.
It is not in English.
Given the extensive and frankly ongoing attempts by England to wipe out Welsh, and its attendant cultural traditions, the Mari is being revived across Wales as an act of linguistic-cultural defiance. She's a symbol of Welsh language culture, specifically; an icon to remind that we are a distinct people, with our own culture and traditions, and in spite of everyone and everything, we're still here. Separating her from that by removing the Welsh is, to put it mildly, wildly disrespectful.
...but it IS what I'm increasingly seeing, both online and in real world Mari Lwyd festivals. She's gained enormous pop-culture popularity in recent years, which is fantastic; but she's also been reduced from the tradition to just an aesthetic now.
So many people are talking/drawing about her as though she's a cryptid or a mythological figure, rather than the folk practice of shoving a skull on a stick and pretending to be a naughty horse for cheese and drunken larks. And I get it! It's an intriguing visual! Some of the artwork is great! But this is not what she is. She's not a Krampus equivalent for your Dark Christmas aesthetic.
I see people writing their own version of the pwnco (though never called the pwnco; almost always called some variant on 'Mari Lwyd rap battle'), and as fun as these are, they are never even written in the meter and poetic rules of Cân y Fari, much less in Welsh, and they never conclude with the promise to behave before letting the Mari into the house. The pwnco is the central part to the tradition; this is the Welsh language part, the bit that's important and matters.
Mari Lwyd festivals are increasingly just English wassail festivals with a Mari or two present. The Swansea one last weekend didn't even include a Mari trying to break into a building (insert Shrek meme); there was no pwnco at all. Even in the Chepstow ones, they didn't do actual Cân y Fari; just a couple of recited verses. Instead, the Maris are just an aesthetic, a way to make it look a bit more Welsh, without having to commit to the unfashionable inconvenience of actually including Welsh.
And I don't really know what the answers are to these. I can tell you what I'd like - I'd like art to include the Welsh somewhere, maybe incorporating the first line of Cân y Fari like this one did, to keep it connected to the actual Welsh tradition (or other Welsh, if other phrases are preferred). I'd like people who want to write their version of the pwnco to respect the actual tradition of it by using Cân y Fari's meter and rhyme scheme, finishing with the promise to behave, and actually calling it the pwnco rather than a rap battle (and preferably in Welsh, though I do understand that's not always possible lol). I'd like to see the festivals actually observe the tradition, and include a link on the booking website to an audio clip of Cân y Fari and the words to the first verse, so attendees who want to can learn it ahead of time. I don't know how feasible any of that is, of course! But that's what I'd like to see.
I don't know. This is rambly. But it's something I've been thinking about - and increasingly nettled by - for a while. There's was something so affirming and wonderful at first about seeing the Mari's climb into international recognition, but it's very much turned to dismay by now, because she's important to my endangered culture and yet that's the part that everyone apparently wants to drop for being too awkward and ruining the aesthetic. It's very frustrating.
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"Where's Mummy?"
A oneshot fluff, entirely headcanon based, featuring all 3 of the LNDS men being a father. Requested by a lovely follower of mine. Hope this is an enjoyable read for you all. The names of the kids are based on my take, but if you want to include names of kids you had thought of with your husbandos, you may slot that in on your own will!
Want some angst? Go with this series of mine, tears guaranteed: Damnation
Warnings: Fluff as per usual however, there shall be suggestive themes for this, soooo let you imagination run free :)
RAFAYEL - FATHER TO A GIRL
"I'll be fine. Stop worrying would you?" Rafayel groaned with a smile. "Our daughter will be alright." He walked beside you, accompanying you towards the front door. "I am more worried about you with your work instead. So take care of yourself, please? For our sake?"
His concern made you rolled your eyes playfully, leaning in to give him a long kiss. "I will be home by evening, I promise." Your eyes stared into those mauve purple eyes of your husband's, only to have him yank you back into his arms and pressing his lips to yours again. Provocating you into a minor makeout session. Breaths becoming heavier by every passing minute.
You bit your lip the moment he pulled away, reminiscing the feeling of his soft and tender lips against yours. "Don't want you to be late, unless you want to call in sick for the day, hmm?" He winked, a hint dropped for you to decipher. "You know I can't Rafayel." Your answer made the man pout, arms crossed, but eventually surrendering to the reality of your situation. He press a small kiss against your cheek and sent you off on your way. He stood at the entryway, watching you get onto your bike and rode it out of the front yard and onto the empty streets.
Heading back in, he sat at his usual thinking corner, eyeing the piece of artwork he had yet to finish. Thomas was expecting this piece to be done by two days ago. But an artist's work should not be rushed, Rafayel being an advocate for quality over quantity. He sighed, walking over to pick up his palette stained with an array of colours, before sitting himself in front of the artwork and continued working on his piece.
Hours had passed since then, the strokes of the painter finally stopped when his artwork is finished. He grabbed his phone off of the coffee table and called Thomas. "Rafayel, where the hell is the piece of---"
"It's done, you can come and collect it tonight once it is all dried up." Rafayel spoke, then Thomas started to inform him about the upcoming interviews that he has to attend, one for the local magazine, one for an exhibition taking place abroad... Pitters and patters of feet across the marble floor made Rafayel lost his focus. He turned around to find his daughter, Mariela awake. "Daddy duty calls."
The phone call ended abruptly, with Thomas ending his note on 'There was also an artwork you have to---' Call ended. Ever since Rafayel had taken on his duties as a father, he made sure his works are delayed long enough just so he could spend time with his own family. Recently, you had been called on for many more missions as there has been a shortage of deepspace hunters.
Rafayel and you had discussed about the delegation of responsibilities while being parents to a newborn. Rafayel insisted that you should quit your job so that you could stay at home with him and Mariela. Money not being any concern to your family to begin with. But you could not, you could not abandon your duties as a deepspace hunter, especially when there are not a lot of new recruits coming in.
So you both settled on a solution that meets both ends. Rafayel would delay his paintings and take care of Mariela if you happen to not be at home, but your sacrifice would be to not work past evening times. Him not wanting you to overexert yourself and still being able to spend time with you as a family. The miniature version of you and Rafayel clumsily walked over to him. Small and chubby hands rubbing her cheeks in circles.
"Good morning my little fishie." Rafayel knelt down and gave her a hug, a usual greeting for morning and night. "How was your sleep?"
"Good." She replied, arms curled around her father's neck as he carried her up in his arms. "Where is mummy?"
"Mummy has to work so today, you will hang out with daddy, yeah?" Rafayel sat her at her baby chair by the dining table. He took a plate of ready-made mini pancakes and poured a cup of warm milk into a cup. "Mummy even made you your favourite breakfast." The idea of having his kid eating such sugary stuffs in the morning is unfavoured. But since y/n had woken up extra early today to prepare the breakfast for her daughter, Rafayel will let it slide for this once. but we all know he too soft of a father to reject that if it ever happens again
Watching his child dig into the pancakes, Rafayel started allowing his mind to wander. Mariela's name came about while his wife was pregnant, and you had both agreed on wanting your child to have names related to the sea to remind the child's origins of being half-Lemurian. Rafayel was thrilled to have their names being related to the waters he used to live in and so the naming process is entirely within his control. Both of you settled on Mariela eventually, the name a direct representation of the star of the sea.
...
When y/n rode past the main gates and towards the yard, you found you husband, with your daughter standing next to him, waiting for you at the front of the door. Mariela the size of a toadstool next to her 6' tall father. But her big, doe-like eyes took the shade of Rafayel's, a mirror of his lilac-blue mixture. "Hey there!" You greeted excitedly, quickly pushing yourself off of your motorbike and rushed over to hug your daughter tightly in your arms.
"Mummy!" The brunette toddler giggled, arms wrapped around her mother and head tucked into your neck. The hug between the two was interrupted with Rafayel hugging both of them. Three of them within a circle of a hug. "Hi, mummy. I missed you."
"I missed you too, so so much." A big kiss was given to the toddler's cheek and they all walked further into the house. "What did you do with daddy today?"
"Daddy taught me how to draw fish and he taught me Wewuma." She spoke, a wide grin evident on her cherubic cheeks. This made y/n confused and you turned to look for Rafayel for an explanation but sees him being on the phone. Assuming it is Thomas on the other end of the line.
"That's good darling." You held her close to you, legs directing towards her bedroom. "But I think it is nap time for you okay? Mummy and daddy will make dinner and then later we are going to have pasta!" Mariela's eyes lit up at the word 'pasta', for she is a huge lover of carbs just like you. No doubt you two are of the same bloodline.
Once you had laid your daughter to nap, you started prepping the ingredients in the huge kitchen. Rafayel came by your side and hugged you from behind, breathing in your scent deeply. "I missed you wifey." He mumbled into the crooks of your neck and drew circles on the side of your hips.
"What is wewuma?" You turned over slightly, the question directed towards your husband. But his expression matches yours, confusion written all over his face. "Our daughter said you taught her wewuma today."
That sentence made Rafayel laughed, releasing you from his embrace and with him smacking his hand against the marble counter a couple of times. "Wewuma!" He continued his laugh, but mellowed down when he noticed that you became more confused than ever. "I taught her how to speak Lemurian." He said, the wide, cheeky grin not leaving his face anytime soon.
"Oh." Realisation hits you about his lesson for the day and you shake your head, chuckling at how your daughter had the word pronounced earlier. You can't blame her, as she is not a preschooler yet. Rafayel attached himself to your back again, his lips pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear and you blushed. Despite being married for quite some time, his intimate actions never failed to make you feel like a giddy teen girl.
"Lemurian is already a dying language. So, wifey..." He nibbled your ears lightly, whispering his question quietly. "How about we make one more little us?" His arms tightened around your hips and you felt something pressed against your bum, making you gasped in teasing pleasure. He turned you around forcefully and pushed you up onto the kitchen counter effortlessly, spreading your legs. "Right here. Tonight."
˚ · • . ° .
ZAYNE - FATHER TO A PAIR OF TWINS
"Thanks a lot, my love." You leaned forward to hug your husband, after knowing that he had planned an itinerary for you to get yourself pampered for a whole day. That includes making the necessary bookings and paying for all of the expenses. Not to mention the extra money he had given you so you may use it to buy anything you please from the mall you would be visiting later in your itinerary. "You deserve it. Given how much you had cared for the kids the past few days as I was busy with work." He leaned down slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as a loving gesture. "In return, I shall take care of the kids today."
Zayne fetched you to the middle of Linkon city, where all of the activities planned out in the itinerary are located before he headed back. Not wanting to go home to his toddlers being awake from their sleep. When he arrived home, he heard the creak of a door as he was placing his shoes on the shoe rack. Lumi and Iver, hand in hand, facing their father.
"Daddy?" The both of them spoke in sync, given their connection as twins. Fraternal twins, a rare occurrence for any mothers in life. They are considered a miracle given the statistics whereas out of 100 births that happen, only 2 mothers would end up with fraternal twins. And the percentage of getting fraternal twins are way lesser as compared to conceiving twins of the same gender.
Short way to put it, y/n and Zayne have a very special family, in fact they may be one of the few families within Linkon city to have a pair of fraternal twins. Hence, they are very lucky indeed. Both of the twins were named after snow or winter season, with Zayne's evol being the main inspiration. Zayne's daughter Lumi, carries the meaning of snow and light, while Iver's name means winter in French.
Contrary to their names, none of them have any features that are pale as the cold weather, except for their milky white skin. There had always been a debate on which child inherited the looks of which parent, in this case, Lumi looks like her mother and Iver takes on his father's looks. And it could easily be differentiated from their hair and eye colour.
"Both of you just woke up?" Zayne's voice was gentle, going over to both of his kids and bending down to their eye level. They are both 3 years old, so you can imagine how tough it was for him to lower his height just to meet their eyes. "What do you want to eat?"
"Daddy, can we watch you make eggs?" Iver asked, his hazel green orbs twinkled under the sun rays shining in through their sky light. "The ones that are flat?" He even used his hand to draw a line in the air, to demonstrate the word 'flat' to his father.
Zayne smiled, nodding his head and walked towards the kitchen with the two toddlers bobbing behind him. Their standard breakfast had consisted of nothing but nutritious food which are vital for their growths. For their father is a doctor afterall. Zayne sat them both into their respective baby chairs and put on an apron, not wanting to dirty his outfit, and he started to cook, with the twins watching his every move. A few 'wah' and 'daddy, daddy, do it again!' slipping from their mouths every once in a while when Zayne does something out of the blue.
Half of the day passed, Lumi and Iver sat in the living room after Zayne had given them a bath and a change of clothings. They will be heading out soon for dinner. Zayne has never been a huge fan of cooking, but only does it out of necessity. The same rule applies even now, breakfasts can be done at home but for dinners, if time allows for both of the parents, Zayne would much rather eat out with his family.
"Daddy, time! Time!" Lumi shouted from the living room when they heard the cuckoo's chime, hailing from the handmade wooden clock that you bought a while ago. Although the toddlers had yet to enter pre-school, they are both surprisingly fast-learners. 9 months in, both of them had already started learning alphabets, and by now, their vocabulary has expanded beyond the age of usual three year olds. You strongly believe Zayne's genes are the cause behind this.
Zayne appeared from the room, a long-sleeved black turtleneck clad to his well-built physique, his iconic black slacks makes yet another appearance, and his hand held a dark grey coat. The weather was getting chilly and he decided to bring along a coat for you, the colour identical to his.
"Lumi, Iver, get your coats and I will help you to wear them." Zayne instructed, picking his car key off of the key holder on the wall. He had decided to go with the Maserati Levante i am not sponsored by them but the cars does scream his taste today, a comfortable SUV for his family of four.
"It's okay daddy. Iver will help me." Lumi responded, arms held up horizontally as Iver put on one of the sleeves for her light grey coat, then running over to the other side to help her to put on the remaining sleeves. "My turn." Lumi did the same for her sibling. When they are both done, they walked over to Zayne and held their arms up in sync again, urging their father silently to help them to tie their coats.
Zayne did just that, hair as dark as the night cascading in front his face when he bent down to help his kids tied a knot to secure their coats. Satisfied at the way their knots turned out, he gave each of them a kiss on their cheeks. "Are you both excited to see mummy?"
"YES!" Both of the kids shouted, arms raising, a sign of elatedness. Zayne held onto both of their hands, one on each side and slowly walked them to the car.
...
Zayne had chosen a western restaurant for dinner, reservation timing marked at 6pm. Now, here he sat, with both of his kids secured tightly behind in baby car seats. He was parked temporarily at the valet parking, patiently waiting for his wife. Soft piano music was played in the car to ease the silence as the kids were sound asleep in the back.
Seeing a familiar figure closing in, Zayne got out of the car and walked towards the passenger side, greeting you with a warm hug. "I could not have asked for a better day to pamper myself." You sighed contently, face flat against his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. A scent he would only use whenever he is out with you, a soft mix of pine wood and oakwood as the top notes, vanilla as the middle notes and cinnamon as end notes. A scent you are all too familiar with.
"Then I shall plan more of this for you." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. "You must be hungry, I had already booked us a table at one of the nearby restaurants." He opened the car door and you got into the car. Getting into the car, he added. "The kids are sound asleep behind, I will wake them up once we arrived at the restaurant."
"Hello my babies." You greeted once the car door to the back was opened, watching your twins stirred in their sleep, before eyes slowly fluttering open.
"Iver..." Zayne cooed to his son, standing on the other side of the door, unbuckling the baby seats for the twins. "We had arrived at the restaurant. Let me give you a lift, alright?" You had never imagine Zayne with kids, given how cold he is of a person. Not mean and ignorant, but just, monotonous, quiet and calm. Having kids with him was unexpected, but him asking for kids was even more shocking.
The young man lifted his son into his arms, smoothing the back of his son's coat to make sure he is fully covered from the brazen cold wind and he headed in after locking the car. With you, holding onto your half-awake daughter behind in, walking swiftly into the restaurant.
The dinner was enjoyable, with the twins munching on to their kids meals and with you sat next to Zayne, having a delectable meal based on the waiter's recommendation. "The food here is good." You commented and your twins looked up, Lumi smiled and nodded, while Iver, with his face stuffed, nodded as well. "So what have you kids been doing today?"
"We watched cartoons." Lumi said, eyes mimicking your eye colours radiating her giddiness. You assumed the cartoons would be more educational rather than entertaining as Zayne does prefer the twins having to gain some form of knowledge from the cartoons. For him, the method is practically killing two birds with one stone. "Daddy also read some storybooks for us." Iver added in, still chewing onto his food, which made Zayne leaned forward to wipe the boy's lips clean with the napkin. "And we took a nap on daddy's chest."
"Be careful of choking, Iver." Zayne warned, his tone soft, giving him son's cheek a soft pinch. Zayne's lips tugged upwards, there is no way he could be mad at his own twins. That is how much he loves them.
"That is good to hear. Sounds like an eventful day for today. And I think daddy did a great job." You happily stated, resuming your meal. A hand on your thigh made you jerked slightly and you looked over, your husband's smile had exchanged for a smirk.
"It is my responsibility to take good care of the kids." He eyed the twins, and facing back to you, his orbs turning a shade darker. "But, it is also my responsibility to make my wife feel good. Mentally..." He trailed off, hands smoothing up your thighs till his thumb glided slowly over your intimate area. The table cloth a good disguise as Zayne's fingers worked his way to pull your panties to the side, collecting the wetness that was pooled there.
You shot daggers towards your husband as this is a public area but he paid no mind to you. The tip of his middle finger, the one adorning the wedding ring, slowly pushed its' way inside of you, pumping an agonizing pace into you. "And physically, of course." pls do this to me too Zayne, i want more babies too
˚ · • . ° .
XAVIER - FATHER TO A SON
"DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!" Lucian came bursting in through the door leading to his parent's room, causing Xavier to stir in his sleep. Eyebrows furrowed at the loud sounds of his son's voice at the early start of the weekend. The copy of Xavier jumped onto the bed and grabbed ahold of his father. "Wake up daddy!"
"Yeah, yeah I am awake now." Xavier yawned, rubbing his eyes with one hand and the other coming up to secure his son on him so he don't fall off. "What's the matter?"
"Mummy said you can take me to go get ice-cream today." His light blue eyes just a tone lighter than his father's when he propped himself up on his father's chest, patiently awaiting for a response. "Daddy please?"
"Okay okay." Xavier chuckled, hugging his son tight in his arms and the young boy laughed. With that, Xavier got out of the bed, with Lucian in his embrace. The hallways outside of the room wafted the smell of noodles and he knew immediately that you are still within the house.
But he was wrong, when he saw you being all dressed up, in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, sitting at the front of your door when you are tying the shoelaces to your sneakers. "Where are you going?" Xavier asked.
You turned at the sound of his voice and watched as Lucian was placed onto the floor by his father and the little boy came running to hug you. "I am heading to the mall with Tara for a little while. She needed me to help her pick out a dress." Standing up, you checked your outfit in the standing mirror for one last time. "At the meantime, you okay with bringing Lucian out for ice-cream?"
Xavier smiled and nodded obediently, taking long strides to press a loving kiss to his wife's lips and he sees her off. Lucian waving his small hands to say bye-bye to his own mother. "Have you eaten yet kiddo?" Xavier asked his son, only for the toddler to shake his head. "Alright, come on, let's have breakfast together. Then we will go for ice-cream later."
Xavier placed Lucian into the baby seat at the dining table and he took off the lid of the pot that was on the stove and he noticed that you had made tomato soup noodles. A dish that you had recently learned from social media. Your first try at making this dish however, was a failure. With Xavier finishing the tasteless noodles and struggling with diarrhea for the next few days. This time, he had his fingers crossed, hoping that the soup would be edible and not cause any unwanted effects.
Before giving the bowl to his son, Xavier tasted the soup base first, to taste if it would be too hot for his son to ingest. To his surprise, the soup was sweet and tangy, which marks a win for your cooking this time. He hungrily filled up his own bowl, before scooping a few spoonfuls of soup and noodles into Lucian's bowl. He also made sure to cut the noodles short enough so it would not cause Lucian to choke on his own food.
"Did mummy made this?" The 3 year old asked, eyes wide, moving in between his father's lips, and to his bear-shaped plastic bowl. Lucian have had a fair share of his father's cooking. The experience of watching his father cook was just as traumatic as eating the food his father had made. There was even this one time, Xavier nearly set the kitchen on fire because he added in some cooking wine into a very hot pan filled with oil and that made Lucian cried for the whole night.
"Yes, your mum made this." Xavier ate his noodles, slurping onto it like a champ. "If she asks me to make breakfast for you, we can just skip breakfast and go for ice-cream instead." Xavier acknowledges his incompetence when it comes to cooking, and it is the only one thing he would not dare to compete with you. he just cant cook anything that deals with fire or electric, just admit it with me boys and girls
...
"Daddy, what do you want?" Lucian asked his father, looking at the flavours that was on display. "Do you want the blue one? Or the green one? Or the red one?" He swung his short legs back and forth, all the while sitting on Xavier's shoulders. The little one did not feel like walking earlier on and that was why Xavier gave him a lift on his shoulders.
"Which one would you like kiddo?" Xavier smiled politely at the waitress behind the counter and the waitress returned the smile, a blush coming onto her face. Who would not blush at the sight of a good looking young man with a son that looks just exactly like him? "How about the blue and red one?"
"Okay!" The young boy excitedly agreed, watching the process of the ice-creamed getting scooped out of the canister and placed onto a cone. Xavier slowly lowered his son down and held onto the hand of the young boy before making the payment at the counter. "Thank you!" Lucian spoke to the cashier when the ice-cream was handed to him and they both took a seat by the window in the store, facing the streets.
Xavier had always wanted a boy, the sole purpose being he could train the son well enough so you can be protected. You were not buying into his idea to begin with but the moment you found out that you were pregnant with a boy, Xavier could not be more than glad. He was so happy to the point he said. "We should name him Lucian, as he shall be the light in our lives." Xavier's words touched your heart and since then, Lucian has been the light in both of your hearts. just like you are the light in OUR HEARTS hello?
The young boy took a lick out of the blue ice-cream, then switched to the red ice-cream and took another lick. Seeing his tongue turning purple, Xavier pointed at his son. "Your tongue is turning purple because of the ice-cream, kiddo." Taking his phone out, he took a picture of Lucian with his purple tongue hanging out of his mouth. He then sent the picture to you, with the caption 'Brain Freeze'.
"Daddy, here." Lucian stretched his arm out, the ice cream in hand and held it in front of his father's face. Xavier took it as an invitation and he took a big bite out of the ice-cream. His action made the young boy flabbergasted, mouth forming an 'O' when he realised that his father just bit off a whole chunk and now he is left with a few more lick of ice cream.
The son's intense gaze at the ice-cream made Xavier felt guilty that he took such a huge bite. His son was not much a naggy child, but he still would not want to upset his little boy. "I'm sorry kiddo, I can---" He wanted to offer to buy the boy another ice-cream but Lucian only laughed, his tone amused.
"That is so funny daddy, when you go AHHH---" Lucian mimicked the way Xavier bit the ice-cream, mouth widely opened and face all crinkled up to show just how big of a bite Xavier had conducted. His son's reaction made Xavier laughed as well, Never knowing his son has such a sense of humour.
The door opened, chiming of the bells at the door could be heard and Xavier looked up, seeing you walking in with a bag in your hands. "Hey boys!" You called out and Lucian turned in his seat and called out to you, arms opened and waiting for you to hug him. Xavier took the ice-cream out of his son's hand so he would not dirty your shirt and he stood up, taking his place to stand next to you.
"How was the outing with Tara?" Xavier took the bag from you and pulled a chair over from the other table as you set your son back down onto his chair. The ice-cream that your husband was holding previously was returned to its rightful owner.
"It was eventful. We only managed to find the dress she wanted at the highest floor." You fanned yourself, sweat beading at your forehead. Your husband took a piece of tissue out of the tissue holder and he dabbed it across your forehead, not wanting to ruin your makeup since you are still on an outing with him. "Thanks a lot."
"No problem." Xavier purposely avoided your gaze, hiding his smile. "The tomato-based noodle soup you made this morning is very good by the way. I enjoyed every bite of it." He complimented, looking over to his son and noticing the young boy, staring out of the window, in the direction of two kids playing by the park, chasing one another.
"Daddy, mummy." Your son's voice beckoned the both of you to turn your heads to face him. His stubby little fingers pressed against the window, pointing towards the two kids at the park. "Can I have a brother?" The way he phrased the questions sounded like siblings could be bought off of a shelf. Your jaw dropped.
But Xavier was expecting this, expecting the fact he would not just settle for one child. He loves you so much, not only as his lover, but he also loves the way you look, with your stomach bulging during the days you are pregnant, carrying a miniature version of him inside. And not to mention, he enjoys the process of giving you a baby. Just the thought of seeing you pregnant again, his cerulean eyes catch yours, similar to a gaze of a predator awaiting to jump onto its prey. He reached his hand out to take yours on the table, giving it a small squeeze of comfort.
"Of course you can." Xavier's gaze darkened, hungry for intimacy. He dragged his fingertips up and down your arms, and stopping right at the back of your hand to draw mindless circles on it. Doing all that without getting his eyes off of you. "Daddy will not stop until you get a brother."
Sorry this took wayyy longer than expected, the toughest part was to find the pictures that would match the faces of the kids and also having to do research for their names and figuring our scenarios that would make the fathers take care of their kids. Other than Rafayel, Zayne and Xavier are going to be out most of the time due to their work!
But I had fun creating this piece, hope you guys enjoyed this! Lots of love <3
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#fluffy#rafayel love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#lnds#xavier love and deepspace#rafayel sfw#rafayel x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader
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Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection
IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.
Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?
This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know?
It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print.
What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:
Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.
Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.
Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive!
I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!
We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha
* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM
You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!
I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D
If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!
** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.)
I would like to say ��don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)
#revolutionary girl utena#utena#rgu#sku#empty movement#chiho saito#90s manga#digital archives#manga aesthetic#shoujo kakumei utena#utena art
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It's About The Chase
Halsin x Fem!Reader
A/N: FINALLY finished this halsin pic I've been working on for the past like month lmao. a huge shout out to @princessbatears @hdlynnslibraryand @maybegefor being the pushes I needed to finish it! I hope you all enjoy! <3
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT! Hunter/Prey Kink, halsin is chasing reader through the forest lol, P in V sex, cream pie, cock warming, marking, biting, rough sex, soft sex, fluff, slight aftercare, cuddling.
Summary: You and Halsin have been together for sometime now, so when Halsin approaches you and asks you to partake in a Ritual custom of his people to further your relationship...who are you to deny him?
Orange embers add to the number of stars in the night sky before flickering out of existence against the blanket of night.
The fire roars fierce before you; orange, yellow, and red tangling together in a dangerous dance to the euphony of songs around you. Your heart races, blood thrumming through your veins like a raging river. The heat from the flames only adds to the heat bubbling beneath your skin, making the fingers dragging across its surface seem startlingly cool in contrast.
You look down at your friend, Avella, as she drags her fingers down the length of your arm in mesmerizing patterns, leaving a shimmering trail of golden paint in their wake. You watch in fascination as the liquid coats her finger tips, dripping in a glimmering trail down the back of her hand before she moves to retrieve more from the bowl at her feet.
You’ve only ever bared witness to this ritual once, Halsin wanting you to see it before committing to it with him, and while you remember it being just as intriguing, it feels…different, now.
Now that it’s happening to you.
Avella, one of your closest friends, had helped you prepare for the ritual just earlier. The golden paths she is painting now, are a continuation of the ones that snake beneath the simple white dress adorning your body.
You look across from you to see Halsin garnering the same treatment, except the paint adorning his skin is a crimson red, appropriately matching the tattoos inked into him. The only thing that separates you from one another are the flames, making him flicker in and out of view as the fire laps at each new log added to it.
But even from this distance you can see the way he looks at you. See the way his eyes darken with hunger. The way his shoulders tense and his fists clench from where they rest at his sides.
He’s ready to pounce. A predator with his prey in sight but just out of reach.
At least for now.
You can feel your breathing speed up, becoming shallow, chest rising and falling quicker as Avella finishes her artwork and the harmony of songs and drums alike come to a complete stop around you.
One of the elders, a druid you’ve only met on occasion, comes to stand in front of the fire, between you and Halsin. He speaks in an old language, one you don’t understand before slipping back into common. Yet, even then, the words do not reach you.
The elder speaks eloquently about tonight's ritual, describing everything Halsin had already prepared you for.
This ritual is a sacred one, that you know. Halsin, like many druids, believed that life, like nature, is a fluid thing. Not to be bound to one person or place or thing in one's life. Yet, this very practice seemed to contradict that very principle. You still had lingering questions, one that Halsin promised would be answered come the end of tonight.
Because, by the end of the night you would be Halsin’s, and he would be yours. Completely and wholly, under the watchful eye of Silvanus himself, you and Halsin would become one with the natural world he holds so dear, cementing one another as an inseparable part of each other's existence.
You only realize the elder had ended his prayers by the low blow of a horn, and the steady reverberation of the drums picking up once more. Your eyes dart from where you had been staring off, to your partner across the fire, his brows drawn in slight concern at your hesitance.
That’s right…you must run.
And so you do.
Turning on your heel, you take off into the forest behind you, the moss and fallen leaves surprisingly springy beneath your bare feet as you dash deeper into the trees embrace.
The singing grows louder behind you at the start of your retreat, but as you put distance between yourself and the others, the sounds grow softer, quieter – muffled by nature until the only thing you can hear is your own breathing, the blood rushing in your ears, and the rustle of foliage beneath your feet.
Only then do you pause, not knowing how far you’ve gone or where you’re even going. It’s then that Halsin’s words echo in your mind, your eyes slipping close as you try to reign in in your excitement, your panic.
“You mustn’t let your mind get the better of you. It will be dark, unfamiliar, but you know where to go. Find the tree.”
You wring your hands together nervously, worry evident in your features. “What if I can’t find it? What if – what if I fail?”
Halsin smiles softly, reaching out to take your hands in his own, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head.
“You will not fail. Even if you cannot find the tree…the oak father will guide you.”
With a deep breath, you open your eyes once more, taking in your surroundings as quickly, but as efficiently as possible. Halsin was right, this place is utterly unfamiliar to you. A forest he’s lived in for most of his life, yet you have never truly seen before. Yet another advantage in his favor.
Another breath.
He believes in you, he trusts you. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. So, with one last steadying breath you turn slowly in place – listening, looking, feeling…until you see it.
It would have been almost impossible to see just moments ago, dark clouds shrouding the moon’s light. But just as you turn, there is a break in the sky, the celestial light making the silvery underbellies of oak leaves that sprout from branches that tower above the rest, glint at you.
“The heart of the forest. That is your goal,” Halsin’s voice rings in your ears again.
You smile, heart leaping with triumph as you take off at a sprint once more, all while sending up a silent prayer to Silvanus for guiding your way.
– – – – – – – – – –
Despite seeming to know the way you need to go, you continuously doubt yourself. The forest all looks the same, the trees too similar, the sounds never changing, and it feels like you’ve not made any progress towards the heart of the forest.
The branches whip past you, brushing against your face and arms, surely leaving behind evidence of their assault, but you couldn’t care less. Despite the rush of anxiety and primal flight coursing through you, there’s also...a thrill. A thrill like you’ve never felt before. A thrill that makes you giddy as you continue your race. And it only seems to intensify as you hear the distance sounds of a pursuer in the distance.
The chase has begun.
Without thought, you move faster. Feet digging into the earth beneath you, arms pumping faster, breathing harder. You will succeed. You will not fail. Not tonight.
And once again, as if the Oak Father himself heard your earlier prayers, the forest around you changes for what feels like the first time. Endless trees give way to a small clearing; an iridescent, bubbling stream running through it, separating you from more forest on the other side.
You come to a pause at the stream's edge, mind racing with what to do. But each second matters. Each breath matters.
One.
Your mind races with information that Halsin has told you about his hunts.
Two.
A branch cracks in the distance as your eyes scan the water.
Three.
Goosebumps rise on your skin as you step into the stream, the water splashing around your ankles.
Four.
Tracks…you have to leave tracks.
Five.
The mud squishes between your toes as you emerge on the other side of the river. One step, another, and another -
Six.
You hear footsteps now, clear as day as the massive bulk of your partner crashes through the woods.
Seven.
Quickly, you dart back into the stream, rushing in the opposite direction of the heart of the forest before moving to crouch behind a large boulder in the water, your dress tugging at you with the movement of the current.
Eight.
This breath you don’t release, as Halsin burst from the tree line, pausing at the edge of the stream just as you had.
You watch silently, blood rushing in your ears as you peer around the edge of your hiding place. Halsin is breathing just as hard as you were, and even from here you can see the sheen of sweat adoring his skin, the moonlight reflecting off him. His eyes scan the water before they pause. Quickly, he makes his way through the water, kneeling on the other side where you exited the water. He follows them with his gaze carefully until they disappear back into the water in the opposite direction. From this distance, you can’t be sure, but you think you catch him smiling.
���Using the water to hide your tracks…” his voice is almost lost to the bubbling stream, but you manage to hear him. “Clever, girl.”
His words send a pang of arousal through you, and you have to cling to the boulder to fight the urge to reveal yourself, but you manage. You stay in place and watch as Halsin stands to his full height once more and takes off jogging upstream, until he’s out of sight within the trees.
You wait a few moments longer, and then just a moment more before leaving your hiding place and darting out of the water and back into the forest’s sanctuary. You see the towering top of the sacred tree, closer now than you ever hoped, and you know - you know, you’re going to make it.
And you do.
Somehow this last push to the end feels quicker than the rest. The forest doesn’t feel endless, time doesn’t feel like it’s dragging on. In fact, the closer you get, it feels as if a warmth flows through you, a calm you haven’t felt since the night started. And as if on cue, you burst from the trees once more into an awe-inspiring sanctuary.
You understand now, why this place is called the heart of the forest - a huge clearing cut naturally in the middle of this vast place. The air is cooler here, a light breeze rustling the fabric of your simple gown as you come to a stop at the edge of the trees, your breath coming in quick deep breaths as you are finally able to stop running. If just for a moment.
Your eyes trail over the space, catching instantly on the fireflies dancing through the air, blinking in and out of existence as they fly. With slow reverent steps, you make your way closer to your goal, standing tall and unmoving at the center of the clearing.
The Sacred Tree.
It stands silhouetted against the night sky, a looming presence that towers hundreds of feet above you, its base thick and imposing as roots sprawl out in a vast network from its center.
With as much care and reverence you are able, you pick your way over the roots, trying to memorize every detail of this magnificent place. After a moment you even notice another stream bubbling steadily into a small pool at the base of the tree, sparkling with moonlight and calling to you.
Soon, you kneel next to the pool, hands dipping into the water, dissipating your reflection on the surface. You lean down, bringing your cupped hands up to your lips as you take small sips. You nearly moan at the cool liquid cascading over your tongue, quenching the intense thirst you didn’t even know you had. It even tastes…sweet, like fresh honeysuckles in spring, or the faint sweetness of honeydew.
You stay at the edge of the pool for a long few moments, taking slow sips and deep breaths before finally standing back to your feet. As you do, your eyes trail over yourself, astonished to find that the paint adorning you has stayed intact, not even the dirt or branches rubbing it off.
Your dress is another matter however, the garment showing clear evidence of your traipse through the woods. Tugging at the hem of the piece of cloth, you send a small smile to the tree above you.
“I suppose it’s a reasonable sacrifice, a dress for…”
For what exactly?
While Halsin had told you the basics of the ritual, and the things that were to come, you can’t help but feel like you still don't understand the cultural importance of this sacred rite.
And you don’t have time to wonder, for just as you step closer to the tree, the world around you spins uncontrollably as familiar strong arms wrap around you and rough bark meets your back as you are pressed up against the imposing trunk.
You didn’t even hear him approach, his steps surprisingly silent for a man of his size. But he’s here now - he’s here and wasting no time as his lips capture yours in a bruising kiss, his hands gripping you wherever he can. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he presses you further into the tree behind you, fisting the delicate white fabric of your dress in his need to get impossibly closer to you.
“Halsin-” his name leaves your lips in a gasp, barely able to pull away from him before he’s dominating you once more.
Your mind cannot even keep pace with what’s happening, Halsin’s presence cutting off any and all logical thought you may have. The only reprieve you get is when his lips leave your own only to leave a trail of messy kiss down your jaw and lower, one of his hands sliding up to cradle your jaw and expose the line of your neck to him as he continues to explore you.
Blunt teeth nip at the delicate skin of your neck and you can’t stop the whimper that slips past your lips, your hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders as he continues his assault. You’re so absorbed in him, in the way he presses against you and mouths at your skin that you don’t even notice his hands as they move to take hold of the gauzy neckline of your dress.
You’re only able to utter a gasp of his name as he tears the thin fabric clean down the center. The threads rip easily under his grip, snapping and popping until it hands In tatter remains on your shoulders. You’re barely able to take in another breath, before calloused palms cradle your cheeks, and for the first time since he’s found you are you able to truly see him.
The sight nearly takes you to your knees.
He towers over you, pupils blown wide with lust as he drinks you in. His shoulders heave with labored breaths, sweat damp skin glistening in the light of the moon. He looks like a god, cut and carved from stone before you.
Halsin has always been an attentive lover, and at times you would even describe him as tame. Always doting on you, putting your pleasure first and handling you with the delicacy of a newly blossoming rose petal.
Not now.
The man that stands before you, clutching you in his hands, fingers pressing into the base of your skull, is nothing more than the beast he always tries to contain. yet, even now you can sense a moment of hesitation in him, restraint. A moment you know won’t last - nor do you want it too.
“I’ve found you, my heart,” he says, voice nothing but a low rumble in his chest. “I’ve found you, and I intend to make you mine. Wholly and completely with no one but Silvanus as witness and I…I cannot promise gentleness. Not tonight.”
He didn’t ask, not out right - but you know he’s asking. As much as he wants this - wants you - you know he would back down if you so much as hesitated. He would take his hands from you and walk away and never hold any ill-intent towards you.
But you want this. You want this more than you ever could have imagined. Halsin unrestrained and untempered…
You want him to devour you.
You nod resolutely, hands sliding up his arms to rest upon his wrists.
“You’ve found me,” you tell him, voice but a whisper as you squeeze his wrists, inviting him imperceptibly closer. “So, claim your prize.”
The only response Halsin offers is a growl as he dives back in, his lips crashing against yours in a mess of teeth and tongue and you don’t dare refuse him when he pushes past the seam of your lips to explore you further.
Halsin makes quick work of the remnants of your dress, tugging the tattered fabric from your shoulders to let it pool at your feet. Once free from it, you reach up and cling to his shoulders as he divests himself of his own clothing before his hands come to grip at your thighs lifting you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing.
From this position, you can feel the heat of him against your inner thigh, hard and just as eager as you are. A fact he is more than aware of as he brushes up against you, groaning into your mouth as he feels your wetness against him.
“I knew you would be ready for me,” Halsin says, his lips brushing against your jaw as he moves to press faint kisses to the skin there. “I could smell you even back at the stream.”
You pause at his words, surprise coloring your pleasure and Halsin laughs, breath warm against your sweat damp skin.
“Oh, yes,” he whispers, “I knew you were there. placing fake tracks, hiding…”
He presses you further back into the tree, the bark bringing a pleasant sting of pain to the pleasure building in your belly as he lines himself up.
“Why…” you trail off, words choked out into a whimper as he finally - finally - presses into you, inch by agonizing inch.
Halsin lets out sinful sounds of his own, grunts and sighs that make you quiver in his hold as he continues to fill you until his hips are flush against you own and you feel so full that you might burst.
“Because,” he breaths, nipping quickly at the juncture of your shoulder and neck, “It’s about the chase. The hunter and his prey-” he grinds his hips into you, eliciting a moan from you that would have made yo blush in any other circumstance. “It’s the catch that makes it worth it.”
Halsin emphasizes his words with one swift movement, pulling out of you before thrusting forward to the hilt once more, as stars burst behind your eyelids. No more words are said as he sets a devastating pace. Anything you do try to say slipping from your mind like warm honey as he drives into you.
With Halsin, there’s usually build up. He’s a man who loves to play with you, wring out your pleasure in the most torturously pleasurable way he knows how. Tonight, however, there is none of that. And you thank the gods above that you found the chase itself so exhilarating, because even with how ready you were, how eager you are for him - the size of him is bordering on overwhelming.
Yet you can’t find it in you to truly care.
All you can do is clutch helplessly at his shoulders and back, nails digging into taut skin as your legs wrap around his waist in an effort to pull him even deeper inside you.
It feels as if he just started touching you and you can already feel that familiar tug deep in your belly, arousal burning bright as he continues his furious pace. But you also notice a falter in his rhythm, his hips stuttering ever so slightly as you assume his own end approaches.
“Halsin-” his name falls from your lips in a whimper, hands moving to tangle in his hair as he comes back up to claim your lips once more.
You expect him to acknowledge your silent plea or agree and tell you he’s close too, but you should know to not expect anything tonight. instead, your surroundings blur around you. Your back leaves the rough bark of the tree in a blink and soon, up becomes down and cool moss meets your knees as warm hands meet your back and before you can even take another breath Halsin has you on your hands and knees before him as he presses into you once more.
You can’t stop the cry that falls from your lips, this position letting Halsin even deeper into you, allowing him to touch places that make it feel like magma runs through your veins.
“Oh, gods…” you moan, eyes squeezing shut as your fingers dig helplessly into the soft ground beneath you.
“No,” Halsin growls, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair as he moves to lean over you, surrounding you in him. “There are no gods here, not now.”
His words and the combination of his cock buried so deep inside you at this new angle catapults you over the edge. You come with a cry of Halsin’s name on your tongue.
Your lover helps you through your high, his thrusts growing more erratic until he too finishes with animalistic grunts as he spills himself inside of you.
You still struggle for air beneath him, chest heaving in the aftermath of your orgasm, that it takes you a moment too long to realize that warm hands are tugging at your hips. A small whine slips past your lips when Halsin pulls himself from you, and it’s then as he rolls you onto your back and leans down to capture your lips in a much more tender kiss than before, that you realize he’s still hard. His release doing nothing to satiate the need coursing through him.
“I love you, my heart,” Halsin says as he pulls away from you to nose at your temple. “You have given me a gift, this night - a gift I do not think I will ever have words enough to repay you.”
Then, for the first time tonight do you truly seem him. He’s pull away from you slightly, just enough so he is able to look upon your face, and you can seem him clearly. His eyes glisten with emotion, vulnerability and utter devotion swimming in pools of hazel. You take this instant to take your lover in, commit this reverent moment to memory as your eyes flit over his face and lower. From the scars cutting through his brow to his tousled hair. To the paint that adorns him - the paint that now lies muddled against his bronze skin, red mixing with your gold. A visual representation to anyone who sees that you two are bound to one another.
Your hands slide up his arms, fingers dancing across his shoulder before finally coming to cradle his face - your heart fluttering when he leans into your touch.
“Then show me,” you whisper, puling him into another searing kiss.
His lips are hot against your own, yet despite the sureness of his movements there’s just a hint of tenderness there. A familiar warmth that encompasses you as he touches you once more.
His hands are firm against your skin, squeezing and gripping and pulling you tighter to him, but gone is the pure urgency that was just moments ago. Halsin is all consuming - he always is - but now it’s as if he is taking up every part of your existence.
Solid arms wrap around you, holding you to him as he slots himself in the cradle of your hips. The familiar scent of him seems to envelop you whole as he presses himself further against you - sandalwood, sage and moist earth after a spring rain. He breaks away from your lips only to nose at your temple, and you take this moment to breath him in, your hands sliding up his back in an effort to pull him closer.
Halsin sighs against you, warm breath ghosting over your ear as he shifts his hips, pressing into you once more. He moves to kiss you once again as you take him, swallowing the moans that bubble from your chest until his hips meet yours.
He stops, then, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against your own, as he allows you both pauses to bask in one another completely. You, for one, are grateful for the small reprieve, the moment becoming completely overwhelming in a new way.
You and Halsin have lain together more times than you’re able to count, each time never ceasing to take you to new heights, but this…this feels as if you’re seeing him for the first time - being with him for the first time.
He holds you to him in a reverence you never thought possible from a man, cradling you with a delicacy that makes your chest tight with emotion. He presses featherlight kisses to your brow and then your lips once more before he finally moves.
And it’s as if the heavens open up above you.
Ecstasy burns through your veins with each push and pull of his hips, as if you can feel every vein and ridge of him inside you. He sets a steady pace, but nothing like the hurried fucking he gave you earlier. No…this was slower, more measured, as if he never wants this night to end.
“I love you.”
The words are a mere whisper against your cheek as Halsin moves, his hips pressing deep into you forcing you into the soft moss beneath you as he tries to mold himself further into you.
“I love you, my heart,” he says again, voice strained. “I have never felt…” he trails off voice going soft before he picks up again. “I am bound to you, body and soul. And by the Oak Fathers grace I will never be parted from you. Not if…If you’ll have me.”
His words make your heart flutter, tears burning at the back of your eyes as you turn your head to look at him, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair once more.
“I would have no one else,” you tell him solemnly, pressing a slow kiss to his lips. “I love you, too.”
At your acceptance, your reciprocation of his vow, Halsin shudders in pleasure above you. With one arm still wrapped snugly around you, his other hand trails down, over your hip coming to rest at the back of your knee only to tug it quickly over his hip, changing the angle and allowing him to slide deeper inside you.
The cry that falls from your lips in nothing short of erotic, his name falling from your lips in a jumbled prayer as his pace speeds up, bring you both closer to the climax you feel burning in your belly.
Gone are the sounds of nature that greeted you when you first entered this sacred place. Now the only sounds that meet your ears are your lovers groans of pleasure in your ear and the blood raring in your veins. His skin slides against your own, damp with sweat and swirled in gold and red as the paint so delicately applied to you both now mixes together.
Halsin’s thrusts become erratic, and a wave of golden light washes over him as he ruts against you. He pulls your hips closer to him, and you wrap your legs around him obediently as the hand that was supporting you comes up to cup your jaw, titling your head up and away, presenting the delicate expanse of your throat to him.
You catch the familiar flash of druidic magic in his eyes through your lashes, and you know he’s fighting the beast, holding it back as he lowers his head down, lips brushing the underside of your jaw as he thrusts into you again, harsher this time.
“You are mine,” he growls, voice octaves lower than his usual deep timbre.
“Yours,” You relent, voice a whispered plea into the night air.
The only warning you receive is another harsh thrust of his hips, this one making him reach so deep inside of you that you see stars as his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, breaking skin and sending you to another plane of euphoria you’ve never experienced before. Moans and cry of pleasure spill from your lips as you come, nearly sobbing as Halsin follows you over the precipice once again, pressing himself into you fully as he fills you.
With ears ringing and heart racing, you almost don’t hear the soft call of your name, Halsin’s lips placing delicate kisses to your cheeks and lips, drawing you closer to coherency as gently as he can.
He has not separated from you - the forest floor still at your back as he presses his weight comfortingly against your front, brushing errant strands of hair from your face.
“I love you,” you finally say, voice raw.
When you speak, Halsin lifts himself from you slightly, bringing one hadn’t up to stroke at your hair affectionately, eyes brimming with emotions you can’t yet place.
“And I you,” he says, leaning down to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss.
After a few quiet moments, Halsin takes you into his arms once more and rolls so he is on his back with you resting against his chest, never separating himself from you in the process.
His heart beats strong beneath your ear, his chest rising and falling in long even breaths, and if it weren’t for his fingers tracing patterns up and down your spine, you’d think he’d fallen asleep.
Neither of you speak for a long while, using the silence to bask in one another’s presence, your mind still reeling from your experience. the silence is only broken when you hear the faint call of song birds and you see the barely there streaks of grey tinting the horizon beyond the trees.
You sit up turning your head and wincing at the tinge of pain that accompanies the movement. a hand comes up to touch the spot at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and your suddenly reminded of the mark Halsin left behind.
His hand comes up to cover your own, calloused fingertips tracing over the bite gently, and you look down to see concern tugging as his brow.
“I’m sorry, my heart, I lost myself-”
“Will it scar?” You cut him off, turning your hand to lace your fingers with his own.
Halsin pauses at your question, lips tugging downward. “I can make sure it will not-”
You shake your head, leaning down to capture his lips in a quick kiss, pulling back to stare into familiar hazel eyes.
“Don’t.” you say. “Leave it. I…like the idea of it. But I…” you trail off, your courage waning.
Halsin’s other hand comes up to card through your hair, urging you to face him again.
“Speak freely here,” he encourages.
You nod, sliding one hand up to run your fingers over the spot on his neck that mirrors your own.
“I’d like you to bear a similar mark.”
Halsin smiles, pulling you down to him so your lips are a mere hairsbreadth away.
“You are mine just as much as I am yours, my heart.”
You smile.
You could get used to that.
#halsin x reader#halsin silverbough x reader#bg3 x reader#Halsin#bg3 halsin#bg3#baldurs gate 3#halsin silverbough
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CENTURY | myg
pairing: boyfriend!idol!yoongi x f. reader
genre: smut
word count: 3.6k
summary: when yoongi needs inspiration for the song he's been working on, you're not hesitant to help him.
taglist: join | cp: wattpad, ao3
warnings: idol yoongi working in his studio being all stressed out is a warning on its own, he's also immensely hot and calls himself oppa (god help me i am a weak girl), mentions of a nasty punishment, yoongi is kinda mean, and a little bit horny, clit spanking *heart eyes*, oral sex (f. receiving), praise kink—usage of stickers, raw sex.
note: my god, this was a drag at first but because i feel sm better today, i finally finished this and i feel myself returning to the hoseoksluna that i was before i got sick. :( this was fun to write today omg. yoongi is absolutely delicious in this and i can't wait to start writing smoke 3 after this. my babies, enjoy this smutty one shot. i love you. spam my inbox, i miss you! give me a warm welcome, please. MWAH.
Habitually, singing for him was your escapism. You’d close yourself up in a bubble, withdrawing from the surrounding gray world, and you’d slink away to a realm brimming with vivid colors. In his songs, you could be anyone. A figment of his imagination that had more life in its veins than you ever had the taste of. You’d forget, for hours upon hours, about the anguish of your daily life and mental issues that would trouble you and, taking his hand, he would take you to Neverland, watch over you, then take you home.
This time, however, he didn’t take you to that fantasy land.
He took you somewhere darker.
The energy in his lab was potent with something that tickled you ever so gently when you stepped inside. A dusky room with an even heftier, crepuscular layer of vexation. You could feel it thumping beneath your skin after it grazed you with its fingertips, weaseling its way in, settling, stilling. Your boyfriend didn’t turn around when he heard you shut the door, nor when your tights-clad feet paddled on the floor, as absorbed as he was in his work. No shoes inside the Genius Lab—that was the first rule, one you were disciplined enough from him to remember, even if someone woke you up in the middle of the night.
You paid a great price, once upon a time.
You had walked in with your Nike’s when he called you over, wet and smeared with the snow from the winter’s artwork outside. Despite the fact you rubbed the soles on the mat in the building of his workplace long before you strutted all the way to his studio, there were still little snowflakes that clung to your sneakers. It was your first time there and Yoongi seemed to have forgotten to let you in on the rules. And once he saw the mess you made, he told you off.
Kissed you quite roughly.
Made you promise to never do that again, playfully.
Sank you to your knees and bent you over those melting snowflakes. Spanked you so hard that he engraved the first rule of the Genius Lab into your system.
No shoes inside.
Then, he patted your head.
Gave you a silver star sticker, resembling the snowflake, for being such a good girl that learns well.
You had stuck it on the table right beside his laptop, an etched memory that you recollected every time he’d invite you over.
It’s what he’s mindlessly rubbing with his fingertip as you walk over to him, another winter later, embedding your digits into the ebony night of his hair, the long strands so satiny and sleek. Yoongi gazes up at you from his computer, pale violet flecks adorning the skin beneath his weary, yet ever so trenchant eyes, and you pout at the sight of him. There must be something wrong with the process of his album-making and he’s determined to fix it.
Yoongi takes off his headphones, wraps an arm around your waist. You’re wearing a little black dress for him with a low neckline that uncovers everything private as he leads you to sit down on his lap, greeting you with a raspy hello and a kiss that tells you he needs you more than his own countenance lets on.
You linger in the close proximity, peppering his mouth with tiny kisses that make him visibly relax—his shoulders slump against his chair and he lifts your knees, placing them in the snug crook between his side and his arm, his hand spreading forest fire down your calf, stopping at your ankle, swathing it with those flames.
You cease your kisses, overcome with his body heat, and butterflies zap you in your tummy when he continues to kiss your mouth with those sweet little pecks.
Prolonging the last kiss, he peers down at you with the world’s most affectionate adoration and you blush. You’ve tasted the dulciness of all the seasons with him, and yet it feels as though you’ve just started dating. His love has long made its home within you, but you can still sense its freshness in your bones.
It will never get old.
“I love these, baby,” he husks, his eyes growing more lidded in the heated, cozy atmosphere guarded by the fire of his body, and he drags a hand up and down your leg, spreading his admiration on the nylon of your tights that he speaks of. “You came just at the right time.”
He nuzzles his face in your neck while he paws at your feet and you soften, brushing your fingers through his hair. You think he needs to get out of this place and breathe in some fresh air for his brain to recuperate and be filled with the flimsy, ivory sparks of inspiration.
It’s snowing outside.
It always seems to be when he invites you to his secret spot during the winter months.
“What’s wrong, hm?” you ask, requiring the specifics in order to help him as much as you can. “What is it this time?”
Yoongi grumbles nonsense in your neck, the sound muffled and indecipherable, and you laugh, softly, lifting his head.
“I literally didn’t catch a word you said,” you whine, squishing his cheeks, and Yoongi feignedly sobs, scrunching his eyes shut. You laugh, wiggling his head, encouraging him to tell you what made him darken the energy of his studio so devastatingly.
He inhales a deep breath in and takes his hand to your bum, fondling it. “I miss your pussy.”
You burst out into obscene laughter, wiping a hand down his face. “Be fucking serious.”
Yoongi chuckles, but then breaks into false little sobs all over again. “The melodies aren’t working together, I can’t transform the ideas in my head into this song and I just miss your pussy so bad. I wanna eat it.”
So that’s the source of that dark energy in the lab.
He’s horny.
He wails into your bosom, deepening your laughter that melts into an endearing coo. One that lifts his head and makes a grin blossom on his pale face, a dab of color rushing to the surface.
A pretty lotus flower, opening for you.
You poke a finger into his cheek, your heart constricting at the cute way your nail makes a round dent in that flourishing flesh. “I thought you called me over because you wanted my vocals.”
Yoongi squeezes your bum, sucking in a breath. “I did. I wanted to finish the melodies so I could record your voice, but shit fucking happens. I thought we could write the lyrics together.”
You bite your lip, finding the idea mesmerizing, and your chest clenches, a certain longing for it forming inside. A light flickers in Yoongi’s abysmal eyes at your reaction—and you wish you could fix this situation for him, remove the block and replace it with a creativity of your own.
An idea pops into your mind, abruptly.
You widen your eyes, your smile growing, little by little. Yoongi straightens, his features mirroring yours, and the picture hope paints upon his countenance only drives your idea forward.
“What?”
“Oh my god, Yoongi.” You clasp a hand over your mouth. “What if we write the lyrics first and just hum random melodies, see what fits best?”
He thinks about it, tilting his head. And then destroys the realm that your little idea created.
“I’m sorry, baby, but that never works with me. I know artists that do that, but whenever I tried, I just reached a dead end,” he mutters and you pout, furrowing your brows. He lets you soak in it for a little while before he shakes his head. “I have a better idea.”
Yoongi pushes his laptop to the side and lifts you up into his arms as if you weigh nothing, setting you down in place of it. He moves his chair forward. Spreads your legs. Kisses the inner of your thigh and you fall back, your palms landing on the ivory keys of his keyboard and creating a soft music that raises his brows.
“Do that again.”
You smile and lift your hand, dropping it on the same notes that you did by accident. He looks over to see which ones you played and he kisses the front of your thigh before he reaches over for his notepad and pen, writing it down.
“You’re my little angel, I swear,” he says without taking his eyes off of his writing, then he extends an arm behind you and finishes the melody with a certain ease that causes him to relax even more—and your smile to deepen in your face.
You blush, feeling like that winged creature—assigned to his side to help him.
“I brainstormed some lyrics the other day,” Yoongi mumbles and begins to stare you down with an intention that coils in your gut, your heart quickening its rhythm. “How about you bounce off of it, make up some lyrics while I eat you out? I can play the melody for you that we just made.”
Your mouth parts, your throat drying. Warmth pools in your core, the idea of Yoongi playing on the keyboard while he does something so intimate to you bringing you down to an abyss of madness. He hands you his notepad after he flips to the page with the lyrics he mentioned. Your eyes skim over his neat, black handwriting, the random words that could string together a sentence if there was a little work put in it.
But how are you supposed to focus in those circumstances? It’s not just his dick that makes you braindead—it’s his tongue that does it in the first place.
“What do you say, baby?” he persists, dipping down and scattering kisses along that sensitive part of your thigh, his breath wafting over your core as he switches to the other one, spoiling it with those same wet kisses.
You catch a glance of his shining tongue and that does it for you.
Your heart thumps, violently—and your pussy drools.
“Fuck, Yoongi.”
That does it for him, too.
He goes to rip your tights right in the middle, but you yelp, stopping him.
“No, don’t rip them. They were expensive and they’re my only pair for the winter.”
Yoongi gives you a look, cocks his brow. “Why didn’t you say? I could buy you some.”
You clamp your mouth shut. You don’t like to use his money to buy yourself personal stuff because you have a job of your own and you’re able to take care of yourself, but lately, with prices rising and the rent growing more expensive, there’s little from your paycheck that you could spend on things like these. And you still need to save up for way tougher times.
“I could never ask you to do that, are you kidding?”
Yoongi’s gaze darkens. “Who said you couldn’t?”
You open your mouth to argue with him, but only a yelp comes through when he swiftly tugs the waistband of your tights over your bum and up your legs, lifting them in the process and folding you in half.
You’re sure he’s ripped them.
You’re fucked.
You lean back, landing once again on his keys and at this point he laughs, darkly, telling you which notes to write down and with a shaky hand—you do.
“You’re getting so many fucking stickers today.”
Your heart stops its feral beats and you gaze down at him with a tormented look, your brows furrowed, eyes lidded and cheeks flushed. Yoongi bites his lip and gets his sheet of silver little stars.
He peels one out. “This one's for you coming at the right time.” He sticks it to that one side of your inner thigh that he left unkissed, the sticky part latching to your skin without a hint of a problem. “And this one’s for your smart little brain.”
He sticks it to the bone right across your cunt, smoothing it out with his thumb that then begins to travel and crosses the distance to the soaked center of your panties. Yoongi sucks in a breath as he peers down at the outline of your flesh, parting your thighs a little to gaze up at you through his lashes. “You have two tasks,” he rasps, brushing his lips across your clothed, dampened flesh.
You grip the table beneath you, letting out a whiny sigh, squeezing your eyes shut.
“Pay attention.”
A simple, low order and you pop them open, breathing out in staccatos. He runs that thumb over your clit, puts a little pressure over it. You bite your lip, straining your ears, but the faint pleasure makes it a little bit difficult for you.
“I’m gonna rub this clit and you don’t get my tongue unless you tell me the name of the store, where you’re getting new pairs of tights from today.” He focuses on your nub, circling it with soft grazes that he knows they get you riled up nice and fast, needy and drenched. It’s what he does when you’re watching a movie together and wind up not knowing how it ends. “And once you come for me, you get another sticker for being such a good girl. Is that clear?”
Your lungs heave and your mind spins, your brain cells shrinking with your arousal. You lick your lips. Wetness stains your panties even more. “And the other task?”
He slaps the side of your thigh, making you jump. “I asked you a question, did I not?”
Such abrupt meanness. Other times, it would get you going, but today it’s not something that you’re really feeling. Maybe it’s due to the fact that you’re ovulating and you need the gentleness that he’s more than capable of giving you.
You drift a hand down his face, stopping with your thumb at his lips, tracing the upper line. So soft, so puffy. “Be nice to me, Yoongi.”
His eyes round and a glint perches itself on the top of his chocolate irises. Yoongi sets your feet on both of his armrests. Leans his head against your thigh, looking up at you with a tender half smile.
“Is that an order?” he asks, flattening his fingers across your clit and strumming it, the pleasure heightening and you sink your teeth into the bottom pillow of your mouth, your body following the wave of the delight he provides you, rolling.
“Yes. Be nice or no pussy.”
He gasps, lowly, his smile transforming into that smirk of his that has the tendency to weaken you through and through. “You wouldn’t do that to me.”
Your heart throbs and you love it. “Yes, I would.”
You go to close your legs and sit up, but he stops you. “Okay, fair enough.”
Oh, that solid calmness of his, perfumed with his horniness. You grin, pleased. “Will you be nice?”
Yoongi licks over the bare skin of your thigh, rubbing his face in it. “I’ll be an angel like you if you do the tasks.”
You roll your eyes. A quid pro quo. Fair enough.
“Okay, be an angel to me then and come here,” you purr, aware of the fact that he got you into this mirrored maze of his horniness and you love it, delight in it, which is the sole, unabashed reason why you tug the back of his head down to your cunt, holding him to you.
Yoongi opens his mouth just at the right time, licking over your clothed clit and moaning. But then he fights against your hold and spanks your pussy, smiling playfully up at you while biting his lip.
You jump, whimpering.
“I didn’t hear you say the name of the store,” he retorts, rubbing, properly, your bedewed nub with slow, agonizing circles.
Fuck.
Your breathing quickens and you scramble your blank brain to remember any store that has the least expensive tights. You say the name of the first one that pops up.
Yoongi doesn’t like your answer, though.
He spanks your clit, gently.
“Think again. I’m not buying you anything that will last you for a day. Don’t play me.”
You can’t help the heavy smile rising on your face, your cheeks heating up so much that they ache. And it helps you, his bull-headedness on buying you high-quality garments that are worth the money, to fight—like he did against your hold—your deeply imprinted independence and utter, shyly, with little hiccups, the name of the store that will keep your legs warm throughout the unforgiving Korean wintertime.
“That’s it, baby. Good girl. Let Oppa take these off now.”
Your stomach flips at the title. You’ve always been obsessed with it—as it, without fail, provoked your independence and slowly transformed you into the mindset of a little girl, taken care of by someone stronger, smarter and older than her. All while keeping it intact.
Yoongi knows you can do everything on your own. And he supports it. But it doesn’t mean he’s not willing to give you a hand.
The same hand he now uses to bring your panties to the waistband of your thighs near the back of your knees, dragging it down that skin. He spreads your cunt with both of his hands, gasping lowly at the sheen that greets him and magnetically pulls him in.
He kitten licks your clit and your elbows tremble, giving out on you—another melodies wafting through the air that make him chuckle into your pussy, engraving vibrations that encourage you to lean back all the way and take what he gives you.
“Write that down, can you do that?” he asks, and when he hears you clicking his pen, he tells you which notes those were. You scribble it down, messily, your hand quivering and painting an obscure picture in his notepad as he begins to suck on your clit in intense waves. You shudder, terribly, the lines of his own pen dark, long and disordered like you.
You give in, moaning so loud that he intones with you.
And what you never expected—the tones of your noises provide him with an inspiration he cannot miss. Withdrawing with a wet chin and stealing his pen from you, he jots it down, propping the notepad on your thighs, smiling at the picture you painted.
Writes something else down, too, while you quiver for him, waiting for his tongue.
He kisses your thigh, ravagedly. “Sing these lyrics.”
Taking it from him, the words blur on the paper because he sinks a finger inside your heat, curling it to that spot that he favors, fucking you with a fast motion that unables you, completely, to let out a sound colored by his geniality.
“Come on, baby. Sing for Oppa.”
You cry out, clenching your muscles—scream as he latches his mouth to your clit, flicking it with the tip of his equally genius tongue.
The lab spins, not just your mind.
“I can’t—I can’t. Oh my God, Yoongi, fuck,” you drag out the curse word, the notepad falling out of your hand and plopping onto the ground.
Yoongi hums, delighted, sucking on your nub so vivaciously that your orgasm nears. As if sensing it, he adds another finger in. Validates the incoming of your splendid explosion by making quick, little, deep sounds that lead you to that peak.
You grasp his hair, tightly, humping his mouth. From your own spill screams that fade into soft moans, resplendent of the notes he liked so much and he fucks your hole faster. Pulls out his mouth just a little, flicking your clit from side to side—and you realize he did it so he can watch you come for him.
Come for your Oppa.
And you do. With a squeak, one that fades to a legato, tender moan of his title. With an eye contact that freezes time for a century. And, suddenly, just like that—it’s just you, him and the winter.
Snowflakes that ache to seep into yours and his cheeks.
Yoongi growls. His male pheromones spill out of him like liquid that washes over you and you get a sticker.
Right in the center of your mound.
And he fucks you into wintry oblivion, a snowstorm that swaddles you closer and closer to him. The table rattles, key notes sound out, the slapping of skin conjures ideas in the magnificence of his brain. And then he comes.
With a final stroke and a rope of his cum all over the sticker near your pleasured cunt, he resumes the time.
But both you and him are newly constituted by that winter-kissed century, chiseled by it and irrevocably changed by it.
Yoongi cleans you up and dresses you. You find out he didn’t rip your tights and you give him such a soft, endeared look for it that he coos, chuckling, and pats your disheveled hair, smoothing it down. He kisses you once he fixes you up and, grabbing his keys, phone and wallet, he drives you to the mall, to that exact store you mentioned, to buy you a myriad of tights to last you for a half of a century, grazed and fondled by winter.
And he leads you back to the studio, besprinkled with the snow’s affection, where you watch him create a song out of your pleasured voice, sampling one of your favorite oldie’s tunes that you end up yanking him up to his feet to dance with him to it. The raspy voice of Ray Charles envelops Yoongi’s hands as he guides your hips and he kisses you until the late night hours.
And in those late night hours, he watches you, like the angel you are, as you sing the poetry he wrote with your help.
Neverland doesn’t exist anymore. Not for you at least.
The darker place he took you to is one breathing with the gesture of helping your lover. Warm, moody and timbered. The licks of flames and the earnestness of a love that depends, without fear, on the other person.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ divider by kthice ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪
𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hobiberrystuff, @kam9404.
© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.
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#yoongi smut#yoongi x reader#yoongi x yn#yoongi x oc#yoongi x you#btscreatorscorner#bts smut#bts imagine#yoongi imagine#yoongi scenarios#yoongi fluff#kpop smut#myg x reader#myg#myg x you#yoongi#min yoongi fic#min yoongi#suga fic#suga bts
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The whisky neat and the strawberries sweet
“Then make me, my love,” Astarion answered, not missing a beat. “Come and get it,” he finished and slowly placed the last strawberry between his lips, grinning. His fangs were bared, contrasting against the deep red of the last piece of fruit.
MASTERLIST | AO3
Author's Note: Let's try again shall we? Tumblr ate this the first time. I listened to "Too Sweet" by Hozier too often and it caused this. What was only supposed to be a drabble turned into a whole thing... I hope you enjoy! With a wonderful gifted artwork by @nathaira-draws (please follow them!)
Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: explicit sexual content, porn with feelings, blood drinking, vaginal sex, creampie, foodplay, aftercare Wordcount: 4,7k Song: Too Sweet - Hozier
~~~
You didn't really know how you always ended up in positions like this one.
But by all the gods, you for sure didn't mind that you did.
Comfortable. You were comfortable in the way you sat on Astarion's lap, straddling him, clad in nothing but a sheer nightgown. The fabric huddled along your body, leaving very little to the imagination. From the clearly visible stiff peaks of your breasts it flowed down in soft lines to where it cascaded into a bunched up mess around your eagerly and widely spread legs.
Astarion in his usual camp outfit, albeit with his shirt possibly open wider than usual, was much more clothed still. But he surely seemed comfortable too.
And if his promising smirk and playfully raised eyebrow as he looked at you wasn't proof enough? Then maybe the way he was pleasantly, almost achingly hard and pressed directly against your heated, throbbing core between your legs was.
And yet you weren't even primarily engaging In anything overtly lewd, at least this far. The two of you were simply talking. Astarion was having a glass of neat whisky while you were indulging in a bowl of perfectly sweet strawberries.
You talked about every- and anything, whatever came to each of your minds. While Astarion kept sipping on the liquor out of his fancy crystal glass and you popped deliciously sweet fruit into your mouth.
Or, occasionally bucking your hips to get a little rise out of the other - a gasp, a groan, a telltale involuntary twitch - or a bottom lip caught on a fang with crimson eyes shortly rolling back into the skull and then a blissful smile.
The two of you played that little game. Trying to get the better of the other, all while trying to maintain a somewhat civil conversation.
As civil as any conversation could be when your slick cunt was pressed against your vampire’s dick. And you could barely keep yourself from rubbing yourself against him until you would either see stars explode before your eyes - or Astarion would remember he was a predator after all.
Either end was equally titillating in your eyes.
This little back and forth went on until you eventually proverbially poked the vampire a little too hard. You ground yourself against him as he was just answering a question you had asked him a moment ago, about what his favourite places around Baldur’s Gate were. The snap of your hips was so forceful, your by now obscenely slick core rubbed against Astarion’s hardened length in an almost painful way. You made yourself moan from the friction rolling through you, coiling in your stomach.
The vampire groaned loudly, almost a growl and mid-word, head falling back. He grabbed the wooden armrest with the hand not currently holding liquor filled crystal, until his knuckles showed white even through his already pale skin. It was almost a wonder the wood didn’t crack.
His length throbbed violently. Your clit eagerly echoed it.
You bit your lip as you focused on the feeling, a lewd, wishful sigh left you. The tension was oh so delicious.
“Are you trying to kill me?” Astarion almost hissed at you, a bit breathless. His head had snapped back, staring at you from deep under his drawn together brows. “Because if you are, you are not being very subtle about it, love.”
His tone was slightly angry and a little high-pitched. He was immediately trying to walk it off but you had obviously irked him. But he was merely teasing you. You saw the way the corners of his mouth twitched unwillingly as he took another swig of whisky. And if his attempts at deflections wouldn’t have told you the truth, something else you clearly felt yearning for more of that friction, would have surely done the trick.
You grinned at him with fiendish delight as Astarion tried to somewhat awkwardly rearrange himself in his seat. But with you pressing yourself against him he hadn’t really any room to wriggle.
His ruby eyes narrowed at you as your grin grew broader. Oh, how you enjoyed being on top of things for once - quite literally so.
“Also it is very rude to interrupt someone like thi-” Astarion tried to utter in an offended tone. But interrupted himself once more with a groan when you rolled your hips against him once more. Even more forceful than before.
Astarion’s moan almost became a whimper this time. Long slender fingers darted over and now gripped onto your naked thigh. Not pulling you closer - for now - but also definitely not pushing you off. Astarion’s cock helplessly and desperately jerked from the friction where it was nestled between your legs.
It was a piece of work to keep yourself from huffing and moaning as you were continuously trying to push Astarion into the deep end without being dragged under as well.
The vampire’s head lolled back again for a moment. Then it rolled back around, his expression a challenge now. The vampire licked over his lips lasciviously: eyes glittering like garnets and fangs shining like ivory as he observed you. Precious in any kind of way.
Playtime was over now. Time to face the consequences.
“You vicious little vixen,” Astarion whispered, fingers digging into your flesh until the twinge of it had you throw your head back this time and gasp. The way your back thereby arched drew your vampire’s attention to the way your breasts were now perfectly presented to him. To either behold them like a connoisseur would an impactful piece of art or to devour them like a doomed man would his last meal.
The pale elf’s equally pale eyebrow twitched - as did your clit still drawing pleasure from his fingertips almost clawing into your thigh. If only… a little more…
Quick flicks of the vampire’s skilled tongue over the sensitive buds at the crest of your breasts made either of them perk up even more. Until your nightgown was dangling off them even more, creating soft lines draping down, surely drawing the observer’s eye to them and your now heaving breasts, heavy from lust.
Your hands immediately went to cup Astarion’s head, cradling it as his tongue swirled around the tip of your tits, not even bothered by the thin fabric between you and him. The way your hips started moving came naturally. Just like how you bowed your back even more for your lover. You closed your eyes, easily getting lost in the sensation.
Then, suddenly, sharp teeth dug into your breast, lips shortly closing down around the hardened nipple.
“Oww,” you yelped and immediately resorted to slapping Astarion’s arm in response, pushing him away. Your head snapped back to stare at him.
The vampire just laughed haughtily as he withdrew again, leaning back. He licked just a drop of blood of his lips as he did so.
When you looked down your own body you saw twin pricks that had pierced through the translucent fabric. And beneath it a tiny trickle of blood running down your chest.
In your moment of inattentiveness Astarion had shifted slightly in his seat: now sitting with his legs spread even further, the bulge between them so painfully obvious and palpable for either of you. He was leaning back, arms draped over the backrest. In one hand he was still holding the whisky glass and idly swirling it around while holding it by its rim.
By default your legs were also spread even further now, making it hard to move. And suddenly you were the one feeling a little caught. Good for you, you had found quite the pleasure in being caught by the vampire time and again.
Although that certainly didn’t stop you from leaning forward as much as possible and catching the pale elf’s chin between your fingers, trying to stare him down.
“Don’t you know that it’s rude to bite someone without asking?”
Astarion pouted. “Can you really blame me for not being able to resist, darling? It was… low hanging fruit after all,” he mused with a grin.
Your eyes narrowed - considering if you should be insulted by that or not.
Astarion eyed the lonely drop of blood he left behind slowly rounding the curve of your boobs. He angled his head observing its journey. A single strand of white hair fell into the vampire’s face as he was entranced - by your tits and the trickle of your fine red alike.
Lost in thought and the view he lifted the crystal to his lips again. As if unconsciously trying to substitute for what he obviously craved much more than liquor right this moment.
The whisky would have to do.
But before he could take a sip, your fingers wrapped around his and wrung the glass out of them. Inattentiveness really made either of you prone to be taken advantage of. But not to either of your damage.
Before Astarion could protest you took a generous swig of his liquor and slightly shuddered as it burned down your throat. You licked your lips with a grin as you felt the burn leave behind a delicious warmth.
The pale elf’s mouth fell open slightly, eyebrows jumping up. His eyes darkened and twinkled at you as if asking you how you even dared and simultaneously promising you he’d get you back for that one - in that kind of way that would leave you desperately begging for more.
It made your lower body clench as another kind of heat washed through your body. Adding to the throbbing sensation between your legs, lashing it on.
And yet the most you had done was sit there.
Closing your eyes, you tried to regain just a fraction of composure. You had been doing so good in your little game of teasing. How did this godsdamned vampire hold that much power over you that he almost broke you with barely more than a glance?
Astarion in the meantime smiled in content as he took note of how you had to consciously concentrate to keep your wits about you. And also he had located the rest of your strawberries still sitting in the bowl on a small table next to the chair you were both wrapped up on.
Your head snapped back as you felt the vampire’s weight slightly shift below you. With his roguishly quick reflexes you only just saw how your lover had started chewing something. Then he was popping another strawberry into his mouth. And another-
“Hey,” you wailed at him as your eyes darted to the little bowl that was now almost yawningly empty. “Hey stop, that’s the last one!” you continued, grabbing for Astarion’s wrist with your free hand as he was about to devour the last piece of your sweet treat.
“Then make me, my love,” Astarion answered, not missing a beat. “Come and get it,” he finished and slowly placed the last strawberry between his lips, grinning. His fangs were bared, contrasting against the deep red of the last piece of fruit.
His hands wandered to either of your thighs, pushing into them and pulling you closer to him at the same time, spreading your legs even more for him. With your hand not holding the crystal glass you grabbed for his shoulder to try and keep your balance.
Lightning jolts shot through your body at the sight of your lover. Finding their target in between your legs. Making you involuntarily rub yourself against Astarion’s hard dick again, still comfortably pressed there. Trying to keep the electric energy going. Hoping to turn it into a constant current.
Heat was pooling everywhere in your body now at the promise Astarion’s eyes made you.
He didn’t need to be able to speak to lure you to him. Astarion leaned in a little closer, the delicate lines around his mouth deepening when his smile grew predatory. And you leaned to him, your cheeks and whole body flushed, keen to accept what he offered: the lamb willingly falling for the wolf.
But then an idea flashed through you. Acting quickly, so you wouldn’t second guess yourself, you took a small sip of whisky, keeping it in your mouth.
The vampire’s eyes sparked at you, immediately catching onto your plan. A small strained gasp worked its way around the strawberry still in between his teeth to get past his lips. The fangs dug into the flesh of the fruit ever so slightly at the strained sound. And at your core you felt his dick twitch once more.
You were both in for a treat.
With a chuckle and the knowledge that he wasn’t the only one holding power you leaned in to kiss your vampire. You slowly wrapped your mouth around the strawberry, lips brushing Astarion’s like a feather in passing - all while your gaze burned into his.
The fruit was crushed between your mouths in an instance. Its red, wet juice ran over both your chins, leaving trails that almost looked like freshly spilled blood. The flesh of the sweet treat was quickly torn and devoured between pointy fangs and more sharp teeth as your mouths worked impatiently to get around it. To get to each other - to the real treat.
The whisky had immediately spilled over your lips, down your chin. Only a few drops had actually made it to Astarion’s lips. But it was enough. The rest he could easily taste directly on your lips and tongue, in your mouth. His tongue made sure to get every last bit of it as it slipped between your lips.
The vampire tensed beneath you, his length somehow hardening more, as you melted into him while kissing him; moulding yourself to him as you slowly felt yourself get lost.
Tart sweetness mixed with smoky burning as did tongues and teeth. Remains of strawberry and whisky were already staining your faces and throats, even clothes.
One of Astarion’s hands moved from your legs to the nape of your neck as your mouths moved against each other. He pulled you closer, trying to taste more of you as you let it happen with a yearning moan.
His other hand moved to yours still clenching the crystal glass in its fingers and swiftly took it away, placing it down to free you from it. And when you were, your hands immediately grabbed the vampire’s face. You let your fingertips stroke along his pointy ears, wandering into his curls, deepening the kiss even more. Closing your eyes as Astarion’s rolled into the back of his head.
His other hand sneakily went to your ass and with a gentle push made you grind against him once more. And then again, until you took up the rhythm on your own. All while you kept kissing, now exchanging moans, gasps and other lewd sounds spilling from your lips. Passing them back and forth between you.
And when only traces of strawberry and whisky remained on your tongues, you broke away from each other. You were both panting and worked up to the point where it had become almost painful.
You stared into each other’s eyes that were void of anything playful now. The need in them was real.
Your hands cradled your lover’s face as his gaze was almost glassed over - from lust. Different from other times where his eyes had betrayed to you that he was a thousand planes of existence away.
But now he was here with you, almost violently so. The only thing Astarion was dreaming of was you and how your body seemed made to be squeezed against his. And the electricity between you was so strong you knew lightning would inevitably strike both of you.
The fruit had left Astarion messy, red stains smeared all around his chin and throat. You were used to the sight by now although it usually were less tame things than strawberry that left him in disarray. And as the yearning inside you reached a boiling point you felt the urgent desire to offer your vampire the real thing. Turning him into a whole mess in the process - in every kind of way possible.
You bowed down to him, seeing his eyes sharpen at you closing in. And nothing but a hair breadth away from his lips you stilled, reining in your boundless desire for Astarion.
“I need you, Astarion,” you whispered to him, your quivering lips brushing his as you spoke. Your breath caressed his face making his eyes lose focus as they rolled widly once more at your confession and your closeness alike. “And I want you.”
“Incidentally,” he murmured, voice raspy and promising, reminiscent of strawberries mixed with whisky, “I want you too, my heart.” His hands on your behind, fingers spread wide, squeezed hard. “And I need you even more.”
And so you let the reins slip from your hands. Your lips crushed with his again as four hands were busy to grab hold and get rid of what was still in the way.
Astarion fumbled with your already ruined nightgown. Trying to pull it up but getting distracted by how soft your skin felt along his fingertips or how your curves shifted lazily with the roll of your hips or how your fingers felt beneath the hem of his shirt.
After a few unsuccessful tries his already short tempered patience got the better of him. He just clawed at the damned fabric and tore it apart, tossed it away with a growl, breaking your passionate kiss shortly.
His short-circuit action shortly took your breath away as you felt the garment ripped off your body.
You stared at him, now fully bared before him. Crimson predator eyes took you in and couldn’t stay harsh at your softness. The moment drew out as he lovingly gazed upon you and you used it to let your hand flutter to the top of your breasts then along the curves of them, drawing a line with your fingertips. Astarion watched carefully, an almost unwilling gasp escaping him.
Then another roll of your hips, rubbing yourself against him with a moan. You threw your back into an arch, repeating the motion more vigorously, grinding yourself against Astarion’s still fully clothed but not less needy body. His pants were already a mess, you knew, caused by your slickness and his yearning cock alike.
Astarion kept eagerly staring at you as you worked yourself against him. His long fingers wandered over creamy soft thighs, wrapped almost fully around your delicate waist and then up your sides, sliding over your back as you threw yourself into them. You were melting for him while you felt the tension inside you grow. And your lover kept observing you, how your body moved like light waves hitting a sunbathed beach. His lips curled up further into a sinful grin as he felt you come closer to the peak: the shift of your hips becoming more ragged, your breaths heavy and raw.
Meanwhile your hands toyed with the hem of his already wide open shirt, tugging on the strings, wandering beneath the hem, caressing his chest as he had become almost a statue beneath you. But his stillness only betrayed that tension within him grew as well.
But then you wanted more. Without halting the movements of your body against his you urged him to draw his shirt over his head. And when he enthusiastically obliged you immediately thanked him by pressing your soft, warm tits against him.
Astarion couldn’t remain still anymore. Eyes glossed over again as he delighted in your body dragging against his naked, smooth skin now. Your hands were in his hair. And as if you weren’t already treating him enough you let your head loll back and dragged the vampire’s already parted lips to where they could immediately pick up the rhythm of your racing heart.
His fangs pressed cooly against your skin making you shudder from the sensation. Gasps filled the air. You felt Astarion’s lips press a kiss to your exposed throat. And a moment later the sharp pain of his fangs breaking your skin made left you breathless and made claw your hands into his curls.
He drank from you and you stilled. You needed to feel how with every swallow he took of you, his dick moved in unison.
And it made you both yearn to finally feel it in an even more intimate way.
Your fingers moved to unlace Astarion’s pants, making quick work of it. The sensation of his erection being freed and immediately being caressed by your deft hands made the vampire quiver. His focus was shortly broken and you felt some hot blood run down your throat. But who could blame him when you began stroking his aching cock like this. You saw how wetly his length was already glistening and felt how generous amounts of precum spread all over it beneath your hands. He really did need you.
Astarion groaned as he tried to pull himself together, licking up the spilled blood. But two different beasts were battling within him right this moment, each eager to get their fill. And both needed to be sated.
“Darling,” Astarion murmured against your throat, “you’re killing me for good.” His hands were on your ass now, squeezing it with spread fingers and urging you to move up on him.
You kept working his cock harder and you pressed yourself up on his lap slightly, obeying his silent plea.
“Good,” you replied, catching his eyes for a moment as his lips still remained lightly on your throat. “I hope it’s a pleasant way to go.”
And Astarion groaned, confirming it.
With your fingers still wrapped around his length you positioned him against your obscenely wet core. You moved your hips, making his head drag along your hot, slick folds, but not allowing him to enter you just yet.
You did it once, twice, feeling your clit and his cock in your hands throb each time. Then Astarion had enough of you teasing him. With his hands firmly holding onto your ass he pushed you down on him until he was buried inside of you to the hilt.
He began fucking you while you still tried to get used to the sensation.
Astarion started a relentless rhythm, aiding you riding him by dragging up your hips and letting them slam into him with his hands digging into your ass. All while he thrust up into you, hitting deep every single time. He praised you, whipping you on with words almost as sweet as strawberries. And the burning warmth inside you was even greater and more deliciously numbing than a sip of neat whisky.
Oh, this wouldn’t take long. The long, lascivious build-up had made sure of that.
You felt the waves grow higher while your moans grew increasingly unhinged. Already you were bracing yourself to be dragged under as you felt Astarion’s sweet nothings dissolve into senseless groans of pleasure.
But then suddenly, you felt Astarion’s hot mouth wrap around your hard nipple again - the one he had teased before. While your orgasm was already on the horizon and rushing towards you quickly, you felt another sting of pain as the vampire’s fangs broke the sensitive skin of your breast a second time.
In the meantime, a hand had wandered up your back and you felt how Astarion wrapped strands of your hair around his fingers before starting to tug on them.
He began eagerly sucking on your boob, striving to get more of the aphrodisiac that was your blood. Meanwhile his skilled tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, swirling around it.
He kept pulling on your hair, having you bow back while riding him and Astarion kept drinking from you.
The continuous jolts this sensation sent through your already helplessly writhing body pushed you even beyond what you had expected.
With Astarion’s mouth closed around your tit and his dick hitting you particularly hard and deep you dissipated fully in his hands. The vampire pushed you far further over the edge than you'd ever thought possible.
As if drifting out of your body for a while as your orgasm shook through you violently, your core clenched around the vampire buried as deep inside of you as anyone ever was.
With an obscenely wet sound he had to let go of your nipple as Astarion came just as forcefully, balls tightening before he spilled inside of you. Your bodies worked eagerly - clenching, jerking, giving, taking - to make the most out of it.
The room was filled with nothing but your ragged breaths as you both rode out the waves of your orgasm.
After, you collapsed on Astarion's lap who held you so carefully as if suddenly he felt you'd shatter under his touch. Your arms felt weak now as you wrapped them around your vampire, your legs started to tremble from the almost impossible tension they had endured before.
Your lover only carefully moved you to withdraw from you as he softened. He kept showering you with small kisses and soft reassuring mumbles while he gave you all the time you needed to safely come down from your high.
It took a long while until you were sure you were fully inside yourself again.
“I love you, Astarion,” was the sole thing you trusted your voice to utter because Astarion kept uttering sweet nothings into your ear. His hands were rubbing a comforting rhythm over your back, your chests pressed together, sticky from sweat. Your forehead was leaning on his shoulders, eyes closed.
The vampire softly laughed and patted your back: “I love you too, Tav.”
“Come on, darling, let’s get you cleaned up and into something warm,” he whispered after a few more heartbeats of comfortable, exhausted silence into your ear.
You lifted your head slowly from his shoulder, took one look at how blood was practically smeared all over Astarion’s face and only snorted. But the vampire took it only with another chuckle and began to rise with you in his arms.
He carefully sat you down on the nearby bed, quickly grabbed a cloth and warm water and cleaned you softly. Astarion took special care of where he’d bitten you, spending extra time cleaning the small bite wounds - pressing a kiss on them after.
Slowly you began talking again while Astarion took care of you and you regained your wits but felt exhaustion and blood loss catch up with you.
Astarion continued to carefully pamper you, washing every part of your body with the cloth, almost massaging you. Then quickly cleaning himself up while you were taken over by a big yawn. You were ready to sink back onto the bed and be wrapped up in your lover’s arms as you would slip into your dreams.
“You owe me a new nightgown, Astarion,” you uttered between yawns trying to stay upright - at least until your vampire was finished with the aftermath of your little evening adventure.
The vampire pointedly lifted an eyebrow at you: “But why wear a nightgown if you could just sleep naked?”
You had no power anymore to argue. So you used your remaining energy to stare angrily at your vampire until he stood up with a smirk and returned with his discarded shirt in hand.
“Alright, my dear, I’ll get you a new one,” he promised with a wink. “But for now this will have to do, I fear. I hope you can overlook it was previously owned by me, darling,” Astarion mused and handed you the shirt which you quickly threw over your head. It smelled of his usual scent: rosemary, bergamot - and whisky. Your eyes darted to where the crystal glass with the rest of Astarion’s drink had been forgotten and smiled. Then you drew a deep breath in, closing your eyes. With this you could do.
You clambered further onto the bed then, making yourself cosy as Astarion undressed to climb into bed with you
“You also owe me some strawberries,” you continued as you stretched out your arms towards your lover who you felt was taking too long to join you.
Astarion snorted as he climbed towards you and wrapped you into his arms.
“You’re awfully demanding, darling, you know that? What about my wasted drink?” he replied with a smirk in his voice as you had already closed your eyes, feeling his comforting presence wrapped around you.
“Hm yes, you can get yourself new whisky too,” you mumbled and were already drifting off to sleep.
“Alright then, my sweet,” Astarion answered as he heard your breath deepen already. “A nightgown, whisky, strawberries and whatever else your heart desires, my darling Tav.”
~~~ If you enjoyed this you can support me by reblogging this! You can also support me on Kofi (pinned post on my profile)! ~~~ Taglist (DM if you want to be added please): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes @somewhatclear @miss-rebel-without-applause
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underneath your clothes II Cata Coll x Reader
masterlist I word count: 1687
a/n: based off the cute request here. We're really craving a tattoo on our own now after finishing this oneshot. 😂
You knew tattoos were your passion since you had gotten your first one aged eighteen. So by opening your own tattoo studio with your best friend, you had fullfilled one of your life goals in the last year.
It was not always easy but you loved your job, especially when you could make your clients happy with your artwork. But at the moment, business was slow.
You were focused on wiping down the counter when your best friend and coworker Carla grinned at you: “Your favourite customer is back, y/n.”
Surprised, you looked up and saw someone walk towards the door of your studio: “What? Oh, she‘s not my favourite customer, Cata has been her only once before.”
“She‘s still your favourite.”, Carla shrugged with a smug look on her face.
You grimaced at her: “I don‘t have favourites.” Turning to your customer, you greeted her: “Cata, hi.”
“Hi.”, the goalkeeper smiled at you.
“You‘re here for another tattoo?”, you asked politely.
She nodded: “I am.”
“Do you have something specific in mind?” You noticed her gaze linger on the inked skin of your left arm.
“Uhm, yeah…”, she replied, catching herself and looking back at your face.
You bit back a smile as you thrust your arm in her direction to show her the floral tattoo wraping around your forearm: “Liking this one?”
Catas cheeks reddened: “I do. It‘s beautiful.”
“Thank you.”, you replied. You could feel Carlas eyes on you.
“But I actually wanted to get something for my sister today. Maybe next time.”, Cata explained.
“Oh, that‘s sweet.”
The football player continued while she gestured towards her upper arm: “Yeah, I want it to be on my arm. I was thinking about a wave or something.”
“Is there a meaning behind the wave?”, you asked curiosly while simultaneously trying to picture the perfect tattoo for her.
Cata nodded with excitement: “Yes, we grew up in Mallorca…”
“Thats is adorable. I love when people tell me the meaning of their tattoos.”, you happily replied while getting your sketchbook.
“Ever been to the island?”, Cata asked while she watched you starting to draw different kinds of waves.
Without looking up from your work, you explained: “Actually, yes. My mother was born there and part of her family still lives there so we spend all of the vacations in my childhood there.”
You could hear the astonishment in her voice: “Wait, you did?”
“Yes.”
“That‘s a funny coincidence.”
You slid the sketchbook in Catas direction so she could have a look: “Who knows, maybe we‘ve met each other before without knowing. So which wave do you like best?”
The goalkeeper looked thoughtfully at the drawings in front of her:” I like that one.”
With a dreamy smile on her lips Cata continued: “This is a nice thought actually. That we might have already met before.”
“I agree.”, you responded in a warm tone.
“I’m going to the coffeeshop, would you two like an iced coffee?”, Carla chirmed.
“Sure.”, you nodded.
“Nothing beats iced coffee on a warm spring day.”, the Barcelona player confirmed.
“So true.”, you agreed.
After Carla left the coffeeshop Cata promised you with a wink:” Next time, I’ll bring you an iced coffee before I show up.”
“You want another one already? Don’t you get into trouble for it from your coach or something.”, you raised an eyebrow at her.
Confidently she waved it off: “Oh, no. If it’s done in my free time, he can’t say anything about it.”
“Okay, good.”, you sighed relived.
“Don’t worry. I won’t get in trouble.”, the professional athlete replied.
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Also, it’s just a small one.”, Cata reminded you while you were drawing the wave on her skin with a needle.
For a moment you looked up from your work:” Right.”
Meanwhile Carla had returned, bringing the coffees immediately to both of you:” Hey girls, I’m back.”
“Thank you, Carla.”, you answered sincerely.
“You’re welcome.”, she mumbled.
You quickly took a sip from the coffee before asking her:” What do you think of Catas new tattoo.”
After your friend took a closer look at your art piece, she whistled: “Oh, this is nice.”
“It symbolizes my sister.”, Cata explained beaming.
“How cute.”, Carla smirked.
While they talked for a bit you added the finishing touches until the tattoo was done:” Now you’re ready to go, Cata.”
“Thanks. I love it.”, the goalkeeper told you happily.
“My pleasure.”, you said and meant every word whole heartedly.
She stood up excitedly:” I’ll call you soon for a new appointment.”
“Alright.”, you answered.
After Cata has left your best friend declared dramatically:” That poor girl.”
“What?”, you frowned at her.
“Oh please, don’t play dumb.”, Carla begged you groaning.
This was the moment you realized what she has been hinting at:” Don’t worry. Next time, I’ll ask her out.”
Normally you didn’t open to customers like you did with the Barcelona player. Even though it was you who was the person who has seen her upper body without clothes, her dark eyes seemed to have seen right through you.
“You should.”, your friend grinned.
You couldn’t help but to blush as you thought about Cata:” She’s so cute, Carla.”
“I could tell that you thought that.”
Guys! Cata has a crush on her tattoo artist!“, Claudia yelled full of excitement.
The other Barcelona players looked up from their team dinner with varying degrees of curiousity and surprise while Catas cheeks turned red. A minute ago, she had just shown her new tattoo to Claudia and Patri but the youngest midfielder had immediately caught on as she heard the way Cata talked about her tattoo artist.
“Oh, that’s why she’s getting so many tattoos recently!“, Ona exclaimed with laugh.
“That’s not true.“, Cata tried to defend herself.
Mariona just smiled sweetly at her: “That’s so cute, Cata.“
“Guys, stop.“
When Alexia finally spoke up, Cata had hoped that she would call her teammates back to order but instead she just tilted her head: “So, when are you going to see her again?“
“Whenever I get my next tattoo?“, the goalkeeper shrugged.
Patri raised an eyebrow: “And that’s soon?“
“I mean I do have an idea for the next one.“, Cata admitted with a small smile on her lips.
Salma shared a knowing look with Patri: “Guess this means very soon.“
Cata was back at your tattoo studio only a few weeks after her newest tattoo, this time with an iced coffee in hand. You caught yourself smiling subconsciously as you watched the football player walked in.
“Hi Cata.“, you greeted her and gratefully took the drink from her that she handed to you. “Thank you for the coffee.“
Cata smiled as you took a sip: “Told you, I’d bring you one.“
“Appreciate it.“
It was the perfect mix of sweet and bitter. Exactly how you liked it. You set down the coffee on the front desk and thoroughly looked at the goalkeeper: “But you know that you don’t have to get tattoos all the time to ask me out on a date.“
You rolled your eyes with a chuckle.
Cata looked at you dumbfounded: “Wait, what?“
“Cata, would you like to go on a date with me?“, you asked politely.
Her face immediately lit up: “I would love to.“
“Great.“, you said and had to bite back a laugh as Carla pumped her fist in excitement behind Cata.
But the goalkeeper caught your attention again: “When is your shift over?“
“At 5 pm.“, you replied truthfully.
Cata nodded with a big grin on her face: “I’ll pick you up then?“
You nodded happily: “Yes, okay.“
“Perfect.“
Cata left the studio without a tattoo this time but she did leave the feeling of butterflies in your stomach instead.
At exactly 5 pm, Cata waited for you in front of the studio. From what you saw through the window, she looked great in her button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to showcase her tattoos. You could barely wait to close the studio.
When you finally locked the door behind yourself, the two of you awkwardly smiled at each other and you had to admit that Cata looked even better when she was right in front you.
You pointed at the picnic basket she was holding in her right hand: “Where are we going?“
“Just trust me, follow me.”, the goalkeeper replied warmly.
You didn’t know why but you trusted her immediately. Walking along side Cata made you feel safe and welcomed. When you reached the destination, you stood there in awe: “Oh my god, the view is stunning.”
“It’s, right?”, she grinned at you.
Truthfully you told her:” Yes, I love it.”
“I hoped you would.”, the player answered satisfied.
Watching at Barcelona from a distance made your worries surrounding your tattoo studio look small in comparison and you felt lighter in the company of the other woman, so you mouthed into her direction a heartfelt thank you.
“Here’s some food.”, Cata hummed, handing you some antipasti to eat.
Closing your eyes you mumbled:” It’s delicious.”
“Wine?”, she asked you, proving to be the perfect gentlewoman.
“Sure.”, you nodded, as the goalkeeper filled your glasses and you both took a deep sip.
“You know I would have come by to get a million more tattoos just to spend time with you.”, Cata confessed with a wink.
You looked into her eyes amused:” I do, so I had to save you from yourself.”
“That’s sweet. But I still want some more.”, the goalkeeper smirked.
Quickly you promised her:” You can get them one at a time.”
“I will.”
With that said you went forward to kiss her, she gladly replied to the kiss, pulling you closer to her, to fully embrace you in her strong arms.
A few weeks had gone by, and Cata and you were officially girlfriends. You were in the tattoo studio when Carla excitedly exclaimed:” Y/n? Thanks to your girlfriend a lot of her teammates have asked us to do their tattoos!”
Hearing that you hugged your girlfriend gratefully:” Love!”
“You’re welcome.”, Cata whispered.
#cata coll#cata coll x reader#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso#woso community#woso one shot#barcelona femeni x reader#barca femeni#espwnt#woso oneshot#patri guijarro#womens football#cata coll imagine
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Pick a Painting : All about your next s/o
Pick 1 painting that draws you the most and I will tell you whatever I can pick up on your next s/o. If you are drawn to 2, then take a look at both readings. Remember that this is a general reading so not everything will apply. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't behind.
#1
Very easily depressed. Mental health is always a concern - doesn't mean they're bad people. Just that their mental health is particularly weak. Easily defeated and blue. However, they do feel things very deeply. Very emotional people. Very, very sensitive and intuitive - you won't be able to lie to them. It's like they have this 6th sense or can read your mind. Don't even try to lie to them - you'll just be caught. Not even a white lie please with these people - a lie is considered a really big betrayal to them. Though their mental health is weaker than average, they will be able to take bad news too. They aren't THAT weak.
Probably has a very creative or almost genius-like side. Very lost in their own world/sometimes will just go off and do their own thing. When they are focused on sthing, they will give it their all. The type to like not sleep for 2 days just to finish something --could be a video game, artwork, song, dance, Excel spreadsheet, code, math problem, clothing, etc.
Though intuitive - they can be kind of anti-social and don't really like to be around big crowds or people in general. Quite closed in and guarded. Think bc they can see so much of the truth they get really boggled down with that "negativity" or that "ugly" side of ppl that they don't want to be in contact with many ppl.
They have a lot of wisdom and knowledge - might not be like the typical "nerd" feeling, but they just know a lot about things that interest them. Could be some particular history or about some theory or painting or sciences etc.
They are shy with physical affection or don't like it that much. The mental connection is more important to them than the physical one. They may be asexual or some may struggle with their sexuality or sex in general.
#2
Life of the party. Very popular s/o and well liked by others. They probably have had many dating experiences -- might not mean they are a player. They probably don't like really heavy relationships and people who are too clingy.
They are really fun and adventurous. They are very playful and charming. They can be kinda forgetful too. They're warm and will remind you of the sunshine.
They sometimes can be ignorant of the world/others' feelings so can come off as being shallow or dense. They're either very intelligent academically or they do very poorly in school - sort of 2 extremes here.
They're either quite athletic or quite artistic. Generally they do have a decent physique like somehow muscular even if they don't work out much.
They're pretty laidback and overall chill. They definitely have very interesting stories to tell/share. Overall pretty independent people and somehow can make bajillion friends.
Sometimes they might not be the most reliable out there. They can often forget promises and also aren't the most responsible ppl out there. Likely to be late to meetings and dates. They can sometimes even forget to bring their wallet or keys.
#3
They can be kind of arrogant and self-centered. They are very confident of themselves, sometimes overly confident. They gotta be the one that make decisions in the relationship. They have a strong, commanding presence. They have this leadership aura like people just naturally want to follow them.
Likely to be quite successful in their career or comes from wealth. Can be kinda spoiled in some ways and also out of check with reality. Bad at saving money, a big spender in many ways.
A lot of people admire your s/o. They'll likely be quite good looking or charming - something about them that'll make people want to take a 2nd look at them.
They probably will dress quite well or at least in a polished way. Kinda classy or perhaps very street style. Either way they will have decent fashion and care a lot about their appearances. They will want you to also look presentable too, so no sloppy lazy attire when you go out.
They likely are friends with people of influence - could be famous or powerful or rich or all of the above. You might feel a bit overwhelmed by their connections or their lifestyle if you don't also have a similar background as your s/o.
They'll have some sophisticated flair/air about them. They are strong communicators and are quite persuasive. They know what to say to make your heart flutter. They may be manipulative though - so be careful.
There's probably some secret they are hiding - not sure what exactly but I don't think they want you to find out.
#4
They are very introverted and quiet. Very observant and detail oriented. Some may suffer from OCD or OCD-like tendencies. They can be obsessive over details. They can either be very very clean or be super super messy.
They probably will wear glasses or have prescription lenses somewhere. They may possibly have some tattoos or piercings or at least some prominent scar or birth mark.
They are pretty serious and aren't ones to really joke around. They can be sarcastic though. They may seem kinda gloomy but it doesn't mean they are very pessimistic.
They're probably night owls and hate the mornings. They probably won't like sweet things or will love them a lot - no between.
They can be kinda self-conscious and have a bit of low self-esteem. Could be bc they were bullied in the past or they felt they were really ugly before?? Possibly they were overweight when they were young and then teased a lot or bullied a lot so now they still got that trauma. Could possibly have suffered from some eating disorder too or went through some extreme diets.
Their physical health may not be that good like possible chronic illnesses or have gone through a major surgery/illness. Possible cancer survivor too.
They have a kind heart and probably love animals. They likely have a pet or if they can't have one due to allergies, then they would still like them.
#5
Definitely suffered from some trauma in their childhood or before they date you. This trauma will probably be pretty bad and severe - TW: sexual assault/physical abuse/violence etc. The abuse could have been very bad.
They are either in the healing process when they meet you or they're still deeply suffering from this trauma and won't admit it. Their inner child definitely needs healing.
They likely came from a family that was broken in different ways. Possibly the parents weren't available/died young or the parent(s) were abusive - could be verbal or physical etc. Or perhaps the parents favored the other sibling a lot and ignored your s/o. Siblings were very toxic to your s/o. Whatever happened your s/o did not feel loved by their family and/or they were deeply hurt by their family. They will likely have cut off from their family or will leave them shorlty after dating you.
They have a lot of sad undertones and when you look at them very closely, you know they have a story to tell. They are probably very animated/sociable so you might not even notice at first that they've suffered so much but when you look closer, you will sense that they've gone through a lot. If that's not the case they could be just very cold and a bit of a loner - like they seem strong on the outside but inside they are suffering.
They may not be super good looking but they have this attractiveness to them that draws people to them. They have that sort of mystery to them. However, they probably don't have many friends and stick to themselves.
They are interesting as a person and are self reflective. They have depth to them and can understand people well.
#6
They probably come from a traditional family or a very large family. They might have been in a religious family too or a cult.
They are either very close to their family or have completely cut off from them. There's no in between.
They can feel very lost at times. They aren't very sure of themselves. They have an innocent vibe to them. They also trust people easily, almost too easily. You'd want to protect them or look after them.
They are idealistic and sweet. They are gentle and probably have a sweet/angelic voice. They are friendly and loving.
They can be unrealistic so they will need someone who can ground them. They probably start a lot of projects and never finish them.
They need a lot of reassurance as they can sometimes lack confidence or get nervous easily.
They will probably have a rounder face or rounder features like rounder eyes, lips etc. They may be on the shorter side for height like shorter than average or they may just have a petite build like smaller bone structure. This doesn't necessarily mean they are very skinny - it's just somehow they will feel "Small".
They have a lot of youthful energy. They can sometimes say really dumb things even though they are clever. They're not very street smart. They probably will get lost easily. They also probably love food. They also are probably kinda lazy.
#7
They're probably very athletic or very into health stuff. They can be a fitness nut and they probably enjoy a lot of sports. They might even be some competitive athlete, possibly even an Olympian.
They seem to be able to do a lot of things like not just excel in sports. They might even have a creative side like filming videos or writing stories etc.
They enjoy travelling and love exploring. They love nature and being away from the city.
They're very daring and adventurous. They are very energetic and have loads of energy - almost too much.
They get distracted easily. They possibly suffer from ADHD or just have trouble focusing for long periods of time. They might not be able to sit still so they likely hated going to school (besides doing something more active).
They have strong golden retriever energy. They mean well but sometimes they can be too blunt. They also can sometimes be quite fiery and will definitely stand up for you when needed. They have strong protective energy too.
They also are probably romantic and will surprise you with little things. They will also remember anniversaries etc.
#8
They are very calm and collected. They are determined and responsible. They can be kind of boring sometimes. They stick to a routine and don't like to deviate from it. They are quite stubborn.
They are loyal to you. They are committed in the relationship. They care a lot about you but often have trouble expressing it to you. Sometimes you might feel like they don't love you but it's their actions that prove that they do love you. They notice the little details about you, including all your habits. They love looking after you and could even want to groom you somehow like maybe cut your hair/brush your hair/help you shave etc.
They can nag a lot and are passive aggressive. They can seem like a parent sometimes but they do mean the best for you.
They can have a controlling side. They're really into being efficient so sometimes they might forget that people have feelings.
To a lot of people they are workaholics. They also are quite responsible. If you're disorganized they will help you be more organized.
They're not romantic at all. They are very pragmatic so if you're thinking you're getting a romantic Valentine's Day, no that won't be the case. However they'll probably order your favorite food and help you clean up your place so you aren't tired after school/work/etc. They'd give you an expensive high tech vacuum instead of some necklace bc you really need one to clean up your place.
They can sometimes be a bit petty and yes they do bear grudges for life...
#psychic readings#love readings#marriage readings#relationship readings#psychic predictions#psychic#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a picture#pick a card reading#intuitive readings#intuitive reading#intuition#divination#psychic reader#free psychic reading#s/o#love predictions#predictions#relationship predictions#personality readings
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Sweet Motivation
Diavolo x reader, Barbatos x reader
W.C. 1.3k
~ After being confined to his studies to work through his mountain of paperwork, Diavolo is in dire need of a distraction that only you can provide.
'Even a prince must reap what he sows.'
This lesson was one of the first Diavolo learned from his father when he began the lessons that would prepare him to one day rule the Devildom, and he has really taken it to heart. He understands that in order for him to be the kind of ruler he wants to be, he must go the extra mile and hold himself accountable in all he does.
But now, that lesson is sounding more and more like torture as the usually smiling demon is cooped up in his stifling study, hunched over a speech he will be giving to honor the 1,000th anniversary of the Devildom artwork orchestra.
A speech he should've written ages ago but forgot about...
Barbatos, sensing the urgency of the situation, had kindly taken it upon himself to ensure his master was able to work in a distraction-free environment. He excused the Little D's from their duties for today and has even placed an enchantment on the door so that only he and Lucifer may enter in order to prevent the Prince from getting off track.
Now half-finished and thoroughly bored with his speech, Diavolo places his hand on his chin and lets out a prolonged, very dramatic sigh. With his DDD confiscated and his office door enchanted, he has no way of messaging you, even though he had promised his trusty Butler that simply getting to message you would be wonderful motivation.
Apparently, he is no longer the cute little demon prince he once was because his big eyes and soft pout had no sway on Barbatos whatsoever.
Reluctantly, he flicks his golden eyes back to the parchment in front of him, noting the slight change in color the ink has in its varying states of dryness.
Is watching ink dry truly the only source of entertainment he has.
He fiddles with the quill in his hand when his sharp hearing detects a soft rapping sound coming from his glass balcony doors. Thinking it may be a confused bird trying to peck through the glass, he turns his head and nearly has a heart attack when he sees you standing on his eighth-story balcony with a big grin and a basket.
~
Maybe breaking into the Demon King's castle by way of rose trellis wasn't the smartest idea you have had since coming to the devildom, but the look of bewilderment on Diavolo's face made the life-threatening climb worth it.
Not to mention, you have found and exploited a very real security risk for the Palace. If a human such as yourself was able to infiltrate its walls without magic, Diavolo may want to do something about it.
The Prince springs from his seat and strides across the room as he gets closer, your tired breath fogging the glass window before he flings open the French doors.
"MC? What? How did you get up here?" he asks, golden eyes scanning your form, widening when they find a scrape on your leg you got during your infiltration.
"I uhh…climbed. Up the rose trellis." you gesture back to the plants behind you, giving him the sweetest smile you can. "I heard from Lucifer that Barbatos had put you on house arrest, and I wanted to see you and bring you a pick me up. Are you upset with me?"
Any lecture you were about to get gets lost on his tongue when he looks at your hopeful expression. He laughs and pulls you into his strong embrace. "I could never be upset with you, my Love, even if you do have a tendency to put others before your well-being. Did you know that I was missing you?"
"I was hopeful," you smile, holding out the basket for him to take. The Prince inhales deeply, smiling as he opens the basket, revealing the freshly baked rolled mushroom cigar cookies you have brought him.
"You made these for me?" he asks; you nod up at him. His eyes shine with affection as he places the basket on his desk to give you his full attention. "Thank you so much for such a thoughtful gesture. I promise you these cookies will not go uneaten."
"Good, you have been working so hard you deserve a treat or two." you smile, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he looks down at you hungrily.
"Then will you be my first?" he asks, your eyes falling from his entrancing eyes to his lips. You nod as he leans down, closing the space between you two, and you shout your eyes, ready to get lost in the wonder that is Diavolo.
Your bodies are only a credit cards width away when the doors to the office burst open, sending a startled chill down your spine.
Barbatos stands in the doorway, his smile too large as he stares you down. "Well now, Young Master, it looks like we have a guest," the Butler says, "MC, what a surprise. I didn't realize that you were coming over. Next time, please consider using the front door."
A nervous heat comes to your cheeks, and you nervously look between the Prince and the Butler. "Oh it wasn't planned, just thought I would pop in."
"I see," he muses, spotting the basket on the desk. "And you brought cookies; how delightful."
He takes the basket off of the desk and gingerly picks up a treat with his gloved hand. Raising one to his lips, he takes a bite of the cookie, his eyes never leaving your own. "My, these are delicious. Did you try a new recipe?"
"I did," you say brightly. "I thought Diavolo may want some, and they taste the best when they are fresh like this."
"While that is true, the young master has fallen behind on his work and will have to wait to indulge until he finishes," Barbatos explains, giving you a soft smile. "You make it very difficult to say no to you, Mc, but I'm afraid I have to insist we leave the young master alone for a while."
"I appreciate all of your assistance, Barbatos," Diavolo frowns, clearing his throat. "But Mc has come all this way; it would be rude if we were to just send them on their way now."
There is a mischievous glint of mischief in the Butler's eyes as he pulls his green eyes from you to his master, "I couldn't agree more, young master, which is why I do not intend on wasting Mc's visit. Until you finish with your speech I shall have the pleasure of indulging in their company and keeping their gift safe." Barbatos cups your chin gently, "You don't mind, do you, Mc?"
The way he looks at you makes you weak in the knees and you find yourself nodding along to his request.
"T-that would be nice," you say, your skin heating up as he gently places a hand on your lower back and escorts you away from Diavolo. The Prince's eyes go wide, and he opens his mouth to protest but knows deep down that Barbatos is right; he should've finished that speech ages ago.
"Wonderful, then how about you and I head down for a warm cup of tea, and I can take care of that little scrape you have on your leg." he smiles, a look of victory on his face as he passes Diavolo, knowing that the time he will have with you is precious.
After all, there is no way Diavolo would want to waste any more time cooped up in his office when it means he is missing your visit.
Tagging: @pixelcafe-network @sleepyyshroom @i-need-to-go-like-mangogo @starbby @sarah22447 @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @ourfinalisation @isaacdaknight @qardasngan @atigerandabear @anjodedesgostoeerros
#obey me!#obey me nightbringer#x reader#obey me#obey me x reader#diavolo#diavolo x reader#obey me diavolo#barbatos#obey me barbatos#barbatos x reader
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How bout an angst and fluffy Luffy x reader? Like, he's trying his best to be a good boyfriend but he doesn't know exactly how do it. So he gets insecure and afraid of reader leaving him
The Painting
LUFFY X READER! ANGST + FLUFF! (STILL ACCEPTING REQUESTS! SEND EM RN! 😤😤)
You were peacefully working on a new painting. You had a strong passion for art, but recently you have decided to pick up painting again. Plus, today is a slow day on the ship, so why not? You hummed to yourself, as you continued to add the finishing touches to your work. “Wow, you really outdid yourself this time,” you smiled to yourself as you took a moment to look at your canvas. It was a portrait of the whole crew, you wanted to surprise everyone at dinner with it. You spent the last few weeks on it too, so I’m sure that they’ve been waiting for the reveal.
You then heard your door open and saw Luffy. “Hey Luffy,” you smiled. “Hi (Y/N)! Hey can I hide here? I’m playing hide and seek with Usopp and Chopper,” he explained as he ran over and gave you a quick peck on the cheek. “Sure, but please don’t tip over my supplies. Last time you made a mess I spent 2 weeks cleaning it up,” you sighed. “I promise!” He said as he quickly jumped into your supply closet.
You continued your artwork, until you were disrupted again. You heard a small knock on the door and soon Chopper opened the door. “Hi Chopper, what brings you here?” You asked. “Hi (Y/N)! Have you seen Luffy?” He asked. “Hmmm… I haven’t sorry,” you smiled. “Hmmm… well can I look around your office? Just in case,” he said. “Go ahead,” you said as you continued painting.
Chopper checked under the table, in your art boxes, and was now heading to your closet. You lightly giggled as you knew your boyfriend was about to get caught. Chopper quickly opened the closet door, and out jumped Luffy. He began running around the small office, “Hey Luffy, this isn’t tag!” Chopper shouted as he chased him. “Now it is!” He yelled, as they circled around you. “Luffy be care-“ you were cut off by Luffy running into you. You fell straight into your paint, easel, and most importantly your painting.
The two boys quickly stopped and stared as you slowly picked yourself up and stared at the destroyed painting. Smudged and ripped, even your easel broke. “(Y-Y/N) I-“ you ran out before you could hear another word from your stupid boyfriend.
Luffy’s POV
I watched as (Y/N) ran off, I tried to chase after her but Chopper blocked me. “Wait! I think she should be alone right now Luffy, she might say something she doesn’t mean because of how she’s feeling. So, just give her some space,” he explained. “But I have to tell her I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to play,” I explained. “I know, but we messed up. Really bad, and she needs time to herself right now,” Chopper said. I grabbed my head in frustration.
I looked over to the destroyed painting and realized it was a painting of all of us. “This is what she’s been working on for weeks,” I said softly. “Oh no, and we ruined it!” Chopper cried. “No, I ruined it. I always ruin things for her,” I said as I picked up the painting. “That’s not true, she loves you Luffy,” Chopper said. I shook my head, “She deals with me, I keep doing dumb things and it always ends with me hurting her or breaking her stuff,” I sighed as I placed the canvas on her table.
“It’s ok Luffy, if she didn’t love you she wouldn’t be with you. Right?” Chopper asked. “I guess,” I said. “I’m gonna go check on her,” Chopper said before running out of the room. I sat on her stool and stared at the mess I made. “Why do I keep messing things up? Maybe… I should leave her alone, then she wouldn’t have to deal with me. She could tell me to leave her alone if we weren’t dating, like Nami,” I said to myself.
I dragged myself to the deck and straight to my spot, to try and think. “Hey Luffy,” Nami said as she sat on her beach chair. “Hey…” I said softly as I continued to drag myself. “What’s wrong? Did (Y/N) kick you out of her art room?” She laughed. “No,” I moped. “Woah, then what’s wrong? Here come take a seat,” she said as she pointed to the other beach chair.
I told her the whole story and ended up with 4 bumps on my head. “You idiot! How could you do that to her?” Nami frowned. “I know… Nami… has she ever talked about how much I mess up around her?” I asked. “(Y/N)? No, not really. She just tells me how fun and cute you are,” she explained. “Really? Even that time I broke her clay pot?” I asked. “Oh man, she was so mad that day, but no… Now that I think about it she didn’t talk bad about you,” Nami said. “What about the time I accidentally squeezed her paint tube too hard and it got all over her face?” I asked. “Nope, nothing,” she said. “Or when I dropped-“ I was cut off.
“Ok I get it, you’ve done a lot of bad things. But she’s never talked bad about you, I think she knows that mistakes happen… especially around you,” Nami pointed out. “But I really messed up this time, what if she wants to break up. She should break up with me… I keep making her mad or sad,” I sighed as I fell back into the chair. “Or… you could make it up to her. Come on captain, you’ve fought warlords and admirals. I’m sure you can fix this problem and make your girlfriend a little less mad at you,” she said. “You’re right! I can try and fix it!” I said excitedly. “But I’m gonna need help,” I said, determined.
Your POV
You’ve been in bed for the last 6 hours. Chopper and Nami checked up on you, but you had no strength to get up. You just need some time to calm down. Suddenly a knock on your door, you didn’t respond, hoping the person on the other side would think you’re asleep. However, the door slowly opened. You saw your idiot captain peek inside, “(Y/N)?” He called out.
“Go away Luffy, I don’t feel good right now,” you said as you turned around, showing your back to him. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry, really sorry… I know you’re really mad at me, but I wanted to make it up to you,” he said as he stepped close. “How?” You asked. “Can I show you?” He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. You slowly turned around, seeing a distressed look on your usually careless boyfriend. “Sure,” you said calmly before getting up.
“But I need you to wear this,” he said, handing you a blindfold. You stared at it with one eyebrow raised. “Please?” He asked. You nodded and quickly put it over your eyes, you then felt a warm hand grab yours. “Alright hold on,” you heard, before being picked up in bridal style. “L-Luffy?” You asked, feeling your face heat up. “Well, I don’t want you to trip while being blindfolded, so I’ll just carry you,” he explained.
You then laid in his arms as he carried you to wherever it was that he wanted to show you. “Alright, I’m gonna put you down now,” he said softly before helping you down onto your feet. “Alright now on 3, take off your blindfold,” he said as he stepped away from you. “Ok,” you said.
“1,2,3,” he said, and you quickly took off the blindfold. You gasped at the scene in front of you. It was your art room, clean and way more organized than it was before. Also, your easel was fixed with a bunch of more upgrades to it, and finally your eyes fell to the painting on the easel. “My painting!” You said excitedly. You smiled as you saw the rough strokes and the taped backing. It wasn’t perfect, but it was way better than how it looked earlier.
“Did you do all of this?” You turned to ask Luffy. “I had some help, but I wanted to fix what I messed up earlier,” he explained. You ran over and gave him a kiss, “Thank you Luffy! I’m so happy,” you smiled and hugged him. “You’re not still mad?” He asked nervously. “Mad?” You asked, confused. “Well… I always mess up your crafts or art projects, I know how upset it makes you,” he said as he stared at the floor. “Well I do get a bit upset, but I know you don’t mean it. I just give myself some time alone so I don’t say anything that I might regret later,” you explained. “Wow, Chopper was right,” he said.
“But I’m really sorry I messed up your painting, I know how hard you worked on it,” he said, before pulling you into a hug. “It’s ok, I forgive you. Just next time, no more games in my art room, ok?” You asked. “Deal,” he smiled. “Oh, I made you something,” he said, pulling away. “Huh?” You asked. He grabbed a small canvas from the table and turned to show you.
You pouted when you realized it was a portrait of you and him. “I know it’s not that good, but-“ you interrupted him. “It’s perfect! I’ll hang it up right now!” You said as you pulled him into a hug. “Really?” He said excitedly. “Yeah, and we should paint together sometime, you’re a natural,” you smiled, before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You think so? I did have fun doing this,” he grinned. “Mhmm!” You nodded and you both went to hang his masterpiece on your wall.
#anime fanfic#fanfic#fluff#x reader#anime#one piece fluff#one piece x y/n#one piece#one piece x reader#monkey d luffy fluff#luffy x you#luffy fluff#luffy x reader#one piece luffy#mugiwara no luffy#straw hat luffy#luffy angst#one piece angst#angst#one piece strawhats#Luffy x reader angst#one piece fanfiction
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4th July - Part 7 - chris sturniolo x femreader
pt1. pt2. pt3. pt4. pt5. pt6.
chris had rolled his eyes at your words, but had kissed you back passionately. when you pulled away he told you he promised he believed you both, and he respected your friendship with carrington. but you couldn’t get the niggling feeling there was something else. you remember his words. you remember him about to say something, or ask you something, when you were at top golf, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to ask him again what it was.
all you held onto was the way you'd carried on making out, him leant against your kitchen table whilst you stood between his legs, his hands roaming your ass and your thighs as you only parted to look each other and let out a laugh.
"we should probably order an uber" you had said in between kisses, he had groaned in protest before giving the back after your thighs a squeeze and pushing himself off the table.
you had finished your drinks and continued chatting as you waited, laughing at everything and anything as you shown him around your house quickly. you saw the way his eyes darkened when you showed him your bedroom, your dark sheets contrast to the white walls and all the things that made it yours. your photos of your friends, the artwork on the walls, he had took it all in with a smile.
you pull up to the bar now however, a comfortable silence on the way there as you text tara and he had rang his brothers to tell them he’d be home late, and as you step out and both stand on the sidewalk before you go inside, he looks down at your hand briefly and you can tell he’s contemplating taking hold of it.
“is it gonna be weird?” he asks, and you frown. “i mean, holding hands? i’m not going to be able to keep my hands off you after a few drinks.”
you smile. “you’ve not been able to take your hands off me sober.”
“preciously" and he moves closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.
you smile as you spin around in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. "no, it wont be weird. im pretty everyone saw us at the party."
chris chuckles, but then his face alters a little. "i know, but this feels different now, don't you think?"
your hearts racing as the energy shifts. yes, this does feel different. before it had been harmless flirtatious fun, even the kiss at the party you could have likely passed off. but since you stepped foot in his house yesterday, it felt like so much more.
"yeah, it does."
he looks at you, his eyes darting around your entire face, before he takes a deep breath. you fury your brows, and he's about to open his mouth to say something but he stops, leans forward and drops you a small kiss. you go onto your tip toes, wrapping your arms around him further before pulling away.
"i could just go home, right now." you whisper, the moment of whatever he wanted to say gone. and he chuckles.
"lets go inside for a couple of drinks, and then i'll take you straight home."
you smile. "my place or yours?"
"my brothers aren't at yours."
"enough said." you smile, before spinning out of his embrace and taking his hand, smiling at a few people smoking cigarettes outside before you walk inside. the comforting smell of the small bar that you have grown to love, the chatter of people all around you.
"i feel nervous" chris whispers into your ear, and you let out a laugh.
"these are your friends too" you say.
"i know but -" and he pauses a second, causing you to look at him. and then he stops. the motion jerking you backwards as he pulls on your hand slightly. you're only a few steps into the bar, and you couldn't see your friends when your eyes first wander in here, but you give him a concerned look.
"is everything okay? are you having second thoughts?" you say, your heart in your chest slightly. was this it? was this what he was trying to say earlier, that niggling feeling in the pit of your stomach.
"no." he shakes his head. then laughs. "god, no. not at all."
your heart alters a little. "so what, chris?"
he smiles, pulling you closer to him. "i really really like you, pretty girl." he whispers. your hearts in your throat again. "like, really like you."
"chris-"
he smiles. "you don't have to say it back, its fine. i just ... want you to know."
now you're laughing, and you place your free hand on the side of his neck. "i really fucking like you too, dumbass."
he doesn't say a word, but he kisses your lips with such force you have to grip his neck to stay upright. when he lets go, he's looking at you with an expression on his face you can't read. but it's too late to ask if theres something else on his mind, because the voice of one person in particular lets you know your friends have spotted you.
"HERE THEY ARE!" the voice booms, followed by a cheer from your friends. you know all eyes are on you, its a small bar usually full of local people, yourselves included, and you blush suddenly at the thought of all the eyes on you.
"is he always like this?" chris says, diverting his eyes to the person in question.
"oh," you chuckle. "this is just the start for carrington."
and then you turn around, dragging chris with you as your eyes find the noise. you were right, heads from other tables have turned but everyone is laughing, and you let out a joking wave as you jokingly strut across to your friends, chris' chuckle loud enough for you to hear behind you.
when you reach the table, taras hands are the first to find yours as you pull away from chris, her eyes wide.
"holy fucking shit, i just watched that WHOLE thing by the door." she says, a smile on her face.
"oh, fuck. did you hear us?" you suddenly feel shy, realising you'd completely lost yourself in him.
she shakes her head. "no, but the look on your face. what did he say?"
you turn around to look at him, his arms currently wrapped around jake in a hug, before a beer is slung into his hand by carrington, who he daps up immediately.
"he really fucking likes me, apparently." you can't help the giggle that escapes you. a fucking giggle. you feel 16 again.
"oh my god" tara squeals, and then she reaches across the table and grabs you your favourite cocktail, already ready and waiting for you. you thank her with a smile and take a sip, before warm hands wrap around your waist. turning your head, you instantly roll your eyes with a laugh.
"sorry, my love. did you expect it to be lover boy?" carrington beams down at you.
"he's not my lover boy, carrington" you say, leaning forward and putting the drink down on the table again, before you spin around in carringtons embrace and properly hug him. he chuckles as he lifts you up off the floor, a squeal escaping your lips as you flick your feet up slightly.
"yeah yeah, whatever." he laughs into your ear before placing you down. "he good to you, yeah?"
"carrington" you say, smacking his arm. "we've been on two dates. calm down."
carrington rolls his eyes before he gives your waist a quick squeeze, and then he's off in the other direction. you laugh and shake your head as you turn to tara.
"how much as he had to drink?" you say, reaching forward and grabbing your own drink again.
"oh god, him and johnnie started hours ago." she rolls her eyes, but theres a smirk on her face too as she takes a sip of her drink. "anyway," she says. "back to mr sturniolo." she says with a giggle, grabbing your hand and dragging you to sit a table away from others ears.
but what you don't see is the prying eyes of chris, staring at you with a mix of what could probably look like sadness, but deep down for some reason he knows its jealousy. he takes a sip from his beer as he watches you engage with carrington, his heart jumping slightly when you spin around and embrace him in a hug, so similar to the way you just did outside with him, and he tries to wash down the feeling with a huge gulp. he feels ridiculous, because he knows you and carrington are friends. at the party, he asked you to be sure, because he'd only met carrington once before and knew how close you had become with him in just a short few months. and at your house earlier on, he was caught off guard more than anything. because fuck, chris wanted you. he wanted you so bad he would call it pathetic, actually. he had never in his life felt this way for anyone, and to see another mans hands on you made him feel queasy.
he notices you sit down with tara at a table not too far away, and he can see as you're both leant in together, laughing and giggling as the two of you talk. he hope its about him, the way even from his position he can see you're blushing slightly, but that niggling feeling in the back of his head tells him maybe it isn't.
but of course it is. the margarita tara threw in your hand is already almost gone and you know its because you're feeling giddy. tara listens as you tell her about top golf, as you tell her about the way you know damn well if carrington hadn't have called, you wouldn't be here right now and you'd have probably had sex in every corner of your house, and you admit how badly you want him, in every way possible.
when you finally walk back up to him just a few minutes later, his eyes bore yours the entire way across the small bar until you reach his side, and when you do, his arm wraps around your back and pulls you into him immediately.
"am i going to have to get used to you and tara running off together?" he says, as you replicate his arm and wrap yours arm around his front.
"im afraid, yes" you giggle, the margarita already flushing through your body. he laughs as he bends down to plant a soft kiss on your lips.
"what where you yapping about?" he asks. he knows he has no right to know, and he knows it was risky invading your privacy with such a question, but his heart rate slows down a little once you laugh and lean yourself into his side a little more.
"thats for us to know, and you to find out." you say, before pulling yourself away from him and embracing in a hug with jake and johnnie. chris gulps down the rest of his beer in one, that surge of jealousy running through his body again at the concept of you blushing over another man, and he can't help his actions for the rest of the night.
you know chris had said he wouldn't be able to take his hands off you, but you hadn't realised just how comfortable he would feel in front of all your friends. if you weren't by his side you could see him looking at you every minute or so. if you were by his side, his hand was somewhere on your body, and if you had a quiet moment alone, his lips where always on yours.
"you weren't joking about not being able to keep your hands to yourself" you whisper into his ear as you both stand at the bar now, and his head whips down to look at you immediately, a drunken haze covering his eyes, but just as he's about to say something his eyes look over your shoulder and you instantly turn around, a smile escaping you as carrington comes up close beside you.
what you hadn't caught onto, was that every time chris was staring at you, or every time he had his hands on you, was usually because carrington had had his hands on you not too long before. not that chris doesn't want to touch you anyway, cause god he really does, but he knows he'd likely be less obvious about it if carrington wasn't here too. and he doesn't know why, and he cannot control the way he feels, but maybe its because as much as he wants you, you technically aren't actually his, and you were free to do what you wanted, and those irrational thoughts in his head told him that carrington could likely have you in one swift motion.
"what can i get my girl to drink?" carrington asks, nudging your shoulder. he's far beyond drunk at this point but you do admire the way he can handle himself. you ignore the pet name, at this point this just feels normal for the two of you, but you don't ignore the way chris' fingers start to trace lines against your arm. carrington looks to the side of you and see's chris, and then leans into your ear. "and whats lover boy drinking?"
"carrington" you say, giving his arm a nudge which only erupts him into laughter, which you can't help but follow suit.
chris hand now lands against your elbow, and you feel as he shifts his position slightly so he's standing a little behind you, the corner of his hip pressing into the small of your back.
carrington laughs at you, nudging you back before looking back towards the bar. the barmaid looks at him and is walking over within seconds, and you roll your eyes.
"you dont even need to say anything, that charm of yours is insane" you say, you and chris had been stood here for maybe only two minutes prior, but there was no denying carringtons overall aura always got peoples attention quicker.
"what can i say, baby?" he mocks, giving you a wink.
in the same breath, chris' hip is no longer connected with the small of your back, but instead both his hands are pulling you backwards, slamming you into his chest tightly, before his hands snake around and lift up your t-shirt, a little, letting his thumbs rest just above your waistband.
you're about to turn to look at him, his touch sending goosebumps all around your body, when you feel his mouth close to your ear.
"tell him we're going home" he whisper, and you spin your head around to look at him, his eyes boring into carrington at just the time you hear him speak.
"what you both having?" you hear carrington say, and then it hits you. the touching. the almost clingy behaviour, is because of carrington. a small smirk plays on your lips, before you turn around to meet carringtons eyes.
"i think we're going to head off, actually" you say, and chris dips his finger into the waistband of your jeans after your words. carrington looks you over, before he shrugs and turns back around, paying for the drink he just ordered for himself.
you twist your position ever so slightly to look at chris, and he gives you a smile as he finally removes his hands from your body, a satisfied look across his face.
and its so obvious. he's jealous. he's been jealous all night.
you hadn't paid much attention, but it makes sense. you can't deny that you and carrington are touchy with each other. carringtons love language is most defiantly touch and sometimes you can't help yourself but touch him back. the soft brushes of your hand on his, the random hugs, the shoulder nudges, the close proximity and hand on shoulder as you spoke into each others ear. to you both, and to your friends, its completely platonic, but the reality kicks that regardless of what you say to chris, he still doesn't fully believe you. or maybe he does, and he's trying to prove a point.
when carrington finally turns back around, a drink in hand. you test the waters. you smile, stepping forward away from chris' body, and immediately wrap your arms around carringtons neck. he's drunk and he's simply just carrington, so he throws his arm around your waist. but you cling a little longer than you usually would, before you pull away, dragging your hands down his arms slowly as you do so. a smirk erupts over carringtons face as he holds onto your waist.
"thank you for a great evening" you say, before flicking your hair across your shoulder.
chris laughs behind you.
"you know you're my favourite lady" carrington says, giving your waist a small squeeze. you shrug, acting like its not big deal, and then you finally pull away, turning yourself around to face chris. he's looking at you with such an intense look you can only smirk. his gaze is cut off by carrington, who's holding out his hand to chris to shake it, and you lean back against the bar, arching your back a little so your t-shirt pulls up slightly, and you dim your eyes to look at them both.
"nice to see you man," carrington say, and chris smiles.
"you too"
and then carringtons walking back off over to your group, and chris watches him before he finally divert his eyes to you. you push yourself off the bar, a smirk on your face as you met him in the middle, but you don't touch him.
"you are unbelievable when you are jealous" you say. he smirks.
"and you are unbelievable when you are trying to get a reaction out of me."
you shrug. "i've not idea what you're talking about."
he grabs your hand, pulling you closer to him as he fingers come up to your chin as he nudges you so you're forced to look up at him. your hearts in your mouth as he runs his thumb along your bottom lip.
"remember what i said to you, before i fucked you. in my bed, let me remind you." he eventuates the my and it triggers your memory. but you keep your face neutral, and you look out a shrug. he smirks.
"i said, and quote, oh youre so mine after this"
of course you remembered. how could you forget? that particular sentenced had replayed in your head a 100 times since it happened just yesterday. you smile.
"ah, yes. you never followed up though, did you? it was just words."
he scoffs. "just words?" his grip on your jaw get tighter and you're melting. you're going to literally die under his touch if this teasing and this flirting doesn't end and his lips don't touch yours within the next 20 seconds. but you can't stop yourself.
"i don't recall a moment of you officially making me yours. so from my eyes, im a free woman." but you're looking at him so intensely, that its impossible to miss the way his face switches slightly, and suddenly you're no longer wanting to flirt and you're scared that actually, you've taken it too far. maybe it was too much. you wanted him so bad it was killing you, actually, and you were most defiantly not a free woman. but then he laughs, and he presses his forehead to yours as he drops his hand from your jaw, grabbing hold of your free hand so now both your hands are clasped together.
"i did not want to do this drunk" he starts, and you fear he can hear your heartbeat from here. "i tried to do it earlier, at top golf, but we got interrupted and i felt stupid"
"what, chris?" you say, and you hope he doesn't hear the little shake in your voice. he smiles, pulling his head away from yours and twisting your hands around so he's not just holding them, but he's interlocked each finger with his own.
"i tried to do it earlier, too. but carrington interrupted us and i thought no, maybe this isn't the right time."
"what, chris?" you say again. and he laughs, throwing his head back a little before looking back at you.
"will you actually, genuinely, be mine? i know its quick, but i'm so certain about you. like actually so certain. the way i've felt today watching you, its not normal. so please, will you by my girl?"
you're going to combust, there and then. you don't have words as you crash your lips to his. he's taken by surprise, at first, but then his hands unlock from yours and they're straight to your hair, and your hands are on his waist as you try and reach on your tip toes to kiss him deeper. but its impossible, so you pull away, both breathless slightly, and theres a sweet crimson twinge to his cheeks.
"is that a yes?" he says, and you laugh. you laugh so hard as you throw your arms around his neck.
"of course its a yes, dumbass."
he chuckles as he throws his arms around your back, his thumbs rubbing against you as you linger in his touch for a second, and suddenly being at the bar is the last place you want to be. your mind going to just a few moments before, when he told you to tell carrington you were going home, and you're giddy on top of the already giddy feeling.
"come back to mine, right now" you say, and suddenly his gaze turns different.
"im right behind you" he whispers, before he places a soft kiss on your lips.
and you turn around, oblivious to your friends and not even thinking about saying goodbye, as you drag chris by the hand and outside into the fresh air.
TAGLIST : @spencerstits @chrissturnsss @slut4chriss @valkatriee @sturnsjtop @viiiwwwee @gwennysturniolo @melanch0lybby @sturnioloblues @mattstrombolii @sturnsbella @hearteyes4chris @le4hsblog @nervoussagittarius @chrissypook @sarosfilms @somegirlfromasgard @carringtonsgirlfriend @h3arts4harry @cherib3lla @rebelliousmuse @freshlovah0e @mattslovverr @melaniesturn
#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo fluff#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo fanfic#tara yummy#carrington usa#nathan doe#carrington x reader#Jake webber
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~Manhwa AU- A Fairytale Do-Over~ Pt 2
A/N: GUESS WHAT I FINISHED~? It's been hot as fuck over here recently and our house doesn't have central air. So writing has been hard, but I managed! Enjoy Malleus's huberous trying to hit him but he's still too short to get the lesson. Next part will be when Yuu meets Leona! Word Count: 3.9K Pairings: Yuu & Malleus (Their friendship has ended and he doesn't even know it), Sibling Malleus & Silver, Parental Lilia & Silver Prev / Next
The royal palace was massive, the size rivaling that of an urban village. And that didn't include the gardens, the patios, the woods attached to the grounds; the area was so large that there were even hidden places Lilia didn't know about. It was grand and it was lavished, all that an empirical bloodline could want. But it was empty, halls filled with priceless artwork and historical artifacts echoed with every footstep you took.
It was a sound Lilia had heard twice and never wished to hear a third time. First was when he was brought to the palace to be Maleanor’s playmate, second was the day after her and her husband's funeral.
And now, as he stared down a twitching servant, he was sure the palace had started to prep itself to return to such a state. He massaged his temples, taking a long and slow breath in, “Forgive me…I must have grown hard of hearing in my age…what did you say?”
The servant shook in terror, the silver tray he held in his hands jostling the letter on it. Lilia Vanrouge was retired as a general, but no one in the fleet of servants or guards dared to upset him. Even delivering bad news was seen as foolish and asking to be punished, “Yu-…The young miss Crowley’s invite was returned…unopened…We called their residence to ask…but the servants are stating that…she is ill and unwilling to attend…”
“…”
Lilia felt…flabbergasted. Yuu had attended Malleus's birthdays sick before, the adoration the young girl held for his charge gave her the will to suffer through hours of discomfort. No illness or annoyingly loud guests could deter her from spending time with her friend.
But even thinking that made him flinch. Malleus was not…receptive to Yuu's kindness or shows of friendship. The young fae lord had found the girl to be clingy, annoying, downright a pain. But no matter how he protested their playdates, Lilia kept scheduling them because Malleus needed someone to see as his equal.
Though he was the crowned prince, a marvel to the fae and kingdom, Yuu was by marriage his cousin and closest of equal royal standing. Malleus’s father was not of noble blood, a fact that kept his and Maleanor’s love from truly being accepted by the council. Luckily, Levan had cut a deal with Dire, being formally adopted into the Crowley line in exchange for more loyal ties with the empire's crown once Levan and Maleanor had married.
A promise that was kept with playdates to the two houses’ heirs.
Lilia bit his lip. Though both of Malleus's parents had passed and such a promise meant nothing now, the Crowley line was all Malleus had in terms of extended family. The old fae wanted them to be close should misfortune fall upon him and leave Malleus without a proper guardian.
But Malleus was his mother's son…
Haughty, arrogant, and beautiful. He looked down on nearly everyone around him, deeming them weak and powerless against his steadily growing might. He skipped his lessons; half from his naturally absent-minded nature, mostly because he felt too good to listen to weaker fae try to teach him.
So introducing a magicless girl nearly five years younger as his equal did not go well…
Since their first playdate and Malleus had stomped back into the palace covered in mud, furious, he had simply despised the Crowley child. Yuu had merely giggled and asked to play with Malleus again, saying he was funny and she liked him. To this day, Lilia wasn't sure why Malleus had been covered in mud nor why he seemed to detest Yuu so much so quickly…He refused to repeat what happened and it only sent Yuu into a fit of laughter whenever asked. He wondered if he should have used his magic to see what had caused the issue when he still had the chance…
He sighed, picking the letter up and ignoring the servant's flinching when his hand drew near. Studying it, he marveled, it really was unopened. A part of him felt the claws of dread slowly wrap around his heart, his fears becoming realized before his eyes. Had Yuu finally had enough? Were two years of verbal abuse what caused the young girl to open her eyes to Malleus’s mistreatment and simply not return.
Turning away, he dismissed the servant and bit his lip again. Malleus didn't have other playmates. Malleus, like his mother, was feared by his subjects. A fact that made companionship more difficult than Lilia wished it would be. He wondered if he should visit the Crowley duchy, slip a tonic from the royal infirmary to have the girl healed in time for the party-
“Lilia, Silver's fallen asleep again.”
Lilia looked to the doorway, his worries melting off his shoulders at the heartwarming scene.
While Malleus had created a type of feud with the Crowley girl, he completely adored Silver; claiming the boy as his brother since he first saw him sleeping in his bassinet. They stood in the opened doorway, Malleus in a more informal attire and cradling Silver to his front. The silver-haired nine-year-old fast asleep in the prince's arms releasing angelic snores.
Sighing, Lilia held his free arm out with a small smile, “Bring him here, I will watch him while you finish your studies.”
Passing the sleeping child over, Malleus scoffed under his breath and rolled his eyes, “Studies. I have no need…” His eyes catch the glint of silver in Lilia’s hand, “What is that?”
Lilia didn’t have a chance to answer, Malleus reaching up and snatching the letter out of his guardian’s hands. Huffing, Lilia used his now free hand to properly hold Silver, “We’ve been over this; don’t snatch things from people-”
“Is this…Yuu’s invitation?” Malleus stares at the envelope, turning it over in his hands and becoming bewildered as he notices it wasn’t even opened, “Have you…Not sent this to the Crowley’s Duchy yet…?” His party was only a week away and the grand duchy was at least half a day’s journey away.
“…” Sighing, Lilia turned away from Malleus’s inquisitive eyes, “The invitation was returned unopened. Word is that the young lady Crowley is ill and unable to attend…”
Malleus stood in silence, staring at Lilia’s back before looking down at the letter in his hand, “Oh…” With a smile, he flicked the letter past Lilia and sent it directly into the lit fireplace.
“Malleus!” Lilia watched the letter burn, flaring green in a flash as the wax melted into the flames. Turning around he tried to pin a glare at the giddy preteen, “Why would you do that!?”
With a shrug, Malleus turned around with a smile. Wiping his hands of the situation as though he had easily solved all his problems, “There’s no need for it. She’s ill, isn’t she? Plus, they returned the invite. It’s within my right to do with it as I will.” He clapped his hands together as his thoughts ran wild, the very promise of Yuu not attending his party making him more and more excited for the event, “This shall be my most wonderful birthday yet! Maybe I will be just as lucky next year and she’ll still be ill.”
Lilia could only frown as Malleus laughed, walking out of the room. While Lilia hoped the young prince would go to his lessons, he knew he was more than likely heading toward the gardens or to his growing horde room. Sighing, the bi-colored fae looks down to his sleeping child. It would all be much easier if he just placed Silver as the prince’s playmate. Malleus adored Silver, but Silver was quiet. Silver was so quiet. A fact that would only echo in this massive palace as the years go on. Lilia could only hope that he’d find a cure for whatever sleep curse affected his boy. Maybe Silver could be the bridge between the two; a thesaurus for two similar yet wildly different languages.
He hoped that Malleus wouldn’t be too upset on the day of his party.
The servants would say the day of Malleus's party was divine. Not a tantrum, eye-roll, nor threat of permanent dismissal in sight. He allowed himself to be dressed easily in his outfit, black silks and furs, precious gems stitched to mimic the night sky their lands were famous for and a winding silver banded crown. Malleus looked like a prince of the infamous Noctorn Empire and he was excited.
He had talked Lilia and Silver's ears off at breakfast; his plans to speak to everyone for once since Yuu wouldn't be attached to his side and babbling nonstop. He didn't notice the concerned look in Lilia's eyes when he'd excused himself to use the emergency phone. Lilia called the Crowley duchy directly to ask if they were truly not attending the party. Crewel merely stating they had sent their gifts and wished Malleus a happy birthday in their absence. Yuu hadn't even been heard over the call.
As the beginning of the event drew closer, Lilia felt his nerves worsen, as if a looming threat was breathing down his neck and waiting to strike. A feeling that only grew stronger as Silver lost his fight with wakefulness, falling asleep a little after the first few guests started to populate the entry hall. Lilia had gathered the deadweight child into his arms, tasking Malleus to greet the guests alone while he placed Silver in a more docile environment until he woke up.
Malleus tried, he truly did. He spoke aloud and clearly as Lilia had always instructed him, head held high so that his chin and the ground were two parallel lines. He tried to shake people's hands, growing frustrated as they refused to release the brightly wrapped gifts to do such a thing. After the 6th awkward shuffle away from his outstretched hands he simply elected to not shake anymore of the lord's hands. After the 15th nervous and stuttered hello, he stopped greeting them too.
He huffed, mildly pouting as he left the entry hall, walking toward the guarded room that held his mountain of presents; gifts to be opened and cataloged once all the guests had left. Greeting people alone wasn't as fun as he imagined it would be. It would have been easier if Lilia hadn't left to tend to Silver. Lilia was a social creature in such a way that Malleus never understood, neither him nor Yuu made sense to him as to how they got people to respond so easily to them. But then again, the very thought of Yuu beside him and greeting everyone in his place made him more frustrated. The sight of her gift, as always wrapped in black and white with a bright green bow, only worsened his mood.
Slamming his hand into the brick, leaving behind Cracks and a medium-sized indent he made the choice to enter the banquet hall. (Unaware of the few cowering party guests slowly backing away from him).
The room was filled with people, fine fabrics swishing around the room in elegant dances. Looking around his enthusiasm dipped again. There were so many adults more than children his age, adults that would only give him a half glance and a respectful bow. Malleus walked along the edges of crowds, trying to see if any conversation piqued his interest or if any of the adults would glance his way to wish him a happy birthday. He received plenty of quick bows, long-winded birthday blessings with his full title. A few had even tried to start a conversation, beginning with a comment on their relation to his mother or father. Only to suck their mouths in like they had tasted the worst type of lemon flavor, remembering he never meant his mother nor his father. From there they would bow again and turn to scamper away into a crowd, leaving him alone again.
Just as he began to wonder just where Lilia was placing Silver, he saw someone who made his hopes relight. Another child his age was standing by a window, looking out the large stained glass with an air of boredom around him. They were a noble of origin from outside the empire, their clothing was brightly colored and heavily patterned. A crown of beads and braids kept dark brown hair neat yet wild, a pair of small, round lion ears peaking through. The hint of brown skin visible from the edge of their loose sleeves and crossed arms.
Gathering a bit of courage, swallowing to wet his mouth, Malleus walked forward. He smiled and tilted his head, tapping the other on the shoulder to gain his attention, “Hello. Are you enjoying the party?”
The other boy seemed to startle, almost as if he had planned on being invisible for hours more and Malleus's acknowledgement broke his trance. The boy turned to him, showing his face was marred over one eye with a long thin scar, the bright emerald green slightly duller than the other.
Once he saw who was speaking to him, he frowned. Turning away and looking at Malleus from the corner of his brighter eye as though he was a bug, “Go away.” Short, simple, and sour.
Malleus startled himself. No one had…ever dismissed him in such a way. Even when Lilia sent him away to his own devices, He said as such with an air of teasing, jovial. This…this was just rude. Narrowing his eyes, he stepped into the other boy's line of sight when he fully turned away, “Why should I? You are aware this is my birthday party, aren’t you? You should feel honored that I'm speaking to you.”
The boy scoffs, facing him directly and placing his hands on his hips. Smug, arrogant; he wasn't taller by any means but it felt as though he was looking down his nose at him, “Why would I feel honored being spoken to by a lizard?”
“…” Lightning flashed outside, bringing the already soft ambiance into a fearful silence, “A LIZARD!?” YOU DARE CALL ME A LIZARD!?”
“A lizard who throws tantrums at that.”
“Leona!” Two older men quickly rush over, looking similar to ‘Leona’ with their attire, ears, and, face yet more alike each other with their matching bold red hair. The shorter, younger man had gripped Leona by the shoulders, trying to force the boy into a bow, “Apologize! You promised you'd behave tonight!”
The older man, his red hair streaked with thin yet vivid lines of grey bowed, “A thousand apologies, Your Highness. Please forgive my youngest son. He is still recovering from an injury you see-”
“I don't care about excuses!” Malleus glared, stomping his foot as the lightning flashing again and sent the room into spasms of eerie green light. He pointed toward the scowling Leona, “He called me a lizard!”
“Malleus, lower your tone. You are among company.” Lilia walked over, placing a hand onto his charge’s shoulder and pulling him back as a physical reminder to calm down, “What's happened here?”
“It seems my son-”
Scoffing loudly, Leona rolled his head back and spoke aloud, “I called the stupid lizard, a lizard and he threw a fit over it.”
“Leona.” The younger man strained, shaking Leona by his shoulders in an effort to physically shake the sense into him.
Lilia frowned, looking down his nose at the defiant child with lidded eyes, “That's rather rude don't you think?” He looked from the corner of his eye, catching the eldest man's gaze, “Duke Kingscholar. I wasn't aware you were raising such…brazen children...”
The duke's bow seemed to deepen, “Truly, I offer apologies for every star in the sky. My youngest is recovering from an injury and fever. He isn't thinking clearly-”
The eldest brother leaned down, whispering to the sour-faced child while their father tried to save face with Lilia, “Leona, apologize. Dad's gonna make you sit in the carriage again if you don't-”
“Fine then! I didn't want to come to this dumb party anyway!”
The duke sprang up, his face furious as he rounded on his youngest son, “LEONA!”
Malleus could feel the lightning crackle outside, the bolts dancing along the sealed windows in eagerness to strike Leona down, “How…dare you!? My birthday party is the highest honor any could hope to attend, and you stand here, wasting it and calling my wrath!”
Leona scoffed, rolling his eyes before leveling Malleus with an almost arctic glare, “Who'd consider it an honor to attend a party of someone they don't even like?”
The eldest boy tried to pull his brother back, worry on his face as the lights along the wall started to flash and flicker with the green electricity struggling to breach the walls, “Leona. Enough.”
Malleus glared back, eyes almost glowing from his rage, “I don't care if you like me or not. I am your prince and you will respect me!”
Leona lets out a loud and sharp laugh, shaking himself free of his brother's hands to step closer to Malleus, “I don't respect you and I don't like you. No one does.”
“That's…That's A lie! People like me!”
“Oh, look around!” Leona gestures his arms out, only continuing when Malleus makes small cautious glances around the room, “No one here likes you, they're all afraid of you! And you're too stupid to see it, you pompous motherfuc-”
Leona was all but snatched into the air, his older brother holding his body in one arm while the other pressed tightly to his mouth. He bowed, a mumble of his brother not feeling well before he quickly absconded from the area.
Duke Kingscholar sighed, offering one last apology and a birthday blessing before he followed his sons out.
Malleus watched them leave along with everyone else. And once the Kingscholars had left he looked around the room once more, a new feeling of a sinking stone growing heavier and heavier. No one would meet his eyes, nothing past an accidental glance before quickly bowing. No one other than Lilia came to his defense, every last guest letting him be berated and mocked by a spare. And for what? To stand at the edge of their tif and cower? To…to look at him with fearful eyes?
Only once the Kingscholars left did he realize just how far away everyone else was in that moment. How even as the lightning cleared, the storm calming, no one dared approach him. No one dared look him in the eyes.
The party continued, the Kingscholars did not return and Malleus was happy for that at least. Leona was…a form of abrasive that he didn't care to deal with ever again.
He thought this birthday would be amazing, the best of his short eleven years of life. Instead, he spent the night beside Lilia, holding onto his hand and refusing to look up. Not out of any true nervousness or shame. He just…didn't want to see how no one looked his way.
They danced, they had a meal, they had cake. Everyone left after another hour of standing and talking. Were birthday parties always so…boring? Or was it just because it was his 11th birthday? Was it because Silver didn't wake midway through for cake cutting like he normally did? Was it…was it because Yuu wasn't there?
The thought annoyed him. Yuu would have never left him alone if she was there, she never had any other celebration. Clinging onto him to greet guests, chasing him through the halls while the adults spoke and networked. A leeching shadow that no matter where he went, she would worm her way into the same place at some point.
“Malleus?”
The horned fae looked up, a half-asleep Silver holding the signature black and white present out to him, “Do you want me to have Yuu's present again this year? Father said she didn't come…”
“…” Sighing, Malleus took the gift from Silver's hands, ripping the paper with an annoyed air to the act, “No. I'll keep it. She's ill; there's no telling what kind of human illness you'll catch from whatever she's coughed on in here.”
Lilia sighed, but didn't speak more. Gathering the wrapping paper of the other gifts Malleus had opened and quickly discarded for not holding his interest. He watched his son yawn, smiling as he pointed to the small table with tea and two thin slices of cake, “Silver, have some tea and cake; it'll wake you up a bit.”
“But, you said I can't have sweets past 9pm?”
“Well, I decided you can today. You normally are awake to have a slice of cake during the party…”
“I know…I'm sorry.”
“Silly boy. There's nothing to apologize for…”
As Malleus looked into the gift box in his hands, the sounds of his guardian and brother faded into the background, equally muffled by the crackling of the fireplace. Inside the present was a pair of oddly knitted tubes. To anyone else, they'd be a pair of hideous mittens for someone who didn't even have hands, but Malleus knew what they really were.
Yuu had asked him, earlier that season when he was again forced to have tea with her, if his horns ever got cold in the Winter. He had glared, telling her to not ask such stupid questions, having no time nor the knowledge to explain that his horns never felt cold in Winter nor hot in Summer and he didn't know why. An answer that seemed to have not satisfied the annoying girl, since she had made and gifted him a pair of unseemly horn warmers.
He held them in his hands, the knots sloppy yet tight. The pattern was off and he's certain there were two different shades of green in the same area. They were ugly, plain and simple. But they were something other than a grotesque or a gargoyle cruelly ripped from their post. Useless, priceless gems he had no need for or the rare foolish gift of iron weapons and accessories. The black yarn was too thick, almost swallowing the designs made with the green yarn. Both colors pressed so close that the black seemed greenish in the right light.
Just as Yuu's eyes would.
He knew the Crowley girl's eyes were black, a brown so dark and deep that they mimicked a starless new moon sky mixed with the dying breath of a sunset. But when…when she looked him in the eyes…they almost seemed to leech the green from his own.
“…Lilia.” A beat of silence before the older fae gave a questioning hum, “Yuu's been sick before right?”
“…” Lilia perks up, turning to face Malleus directly as he notices he had opened Yuu’s present, “…Um…yes, a few times before. Why do you ask?”
“…Does…does she feel better soon? She isn’t sick for long, right?”
“…” Lilia smiles, stepping closer and ruffling the hair in the space between Malleus’s horns with a giggle, “I'm sure she will better quicker than you expect! Your little friend will be right as rain and back in the palace for playdates before you know it!”
Malleus pouts, slapping his guardian’s hands away and trying to smooth his ruffled hair. The woolen tubes in his hands not helping in the slightest as they only made his hair more frizzy, “I don’t want her back here! I just don’t want to hear about the bothersome thing dying!” He stands, forgoing his other presents but keeping the ugly warmers locked in his grasp unknowingly, “I’m going to bed! Even when she isn’t around, she manages to ruin everything…”
Floating, Lilia flipped himself upside down, pinching at a furious Malleus’s cheek, “Aw~! You do like her!”
“NO! I DON’T!”
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twst#twst wonderland#yuu oc#malleus draconia#lilia vanrouge#silver vanrouge#malleus & yuu#malleus x yuu#manhwa au
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