#i wish I could capture the Expansiveness of beauty with all the flowers

[thelethalsilence]

[shirefantasies]

Things You Do Together- LoTR Characters

A little buffer posting during recovery, sorry y’all 😅 I have some requests getting ready too though! Did a version for Thorin’s company a while back so here’s this version too 🥰

Aragorn wishes there to be no secrets, as few misunderstandings as could arise. Thus his goal is to help you reach fluency in Elvish; after all, many of his friends and familial figures are of Middle Earth’s eldest race. Their script is quite complex, so barring a great desire of yours to be writing it soon Aragorn focuses upon recognition of important words and phrases. Starting, of course, with my love.

Legolas teaches you archery, standing behind you as you fire his bow. Such a patient teacher and not one to burst out laughing if the arrow arcs spectacularly right back down into the grass. Surely he will smile and shake his head, but he understands. Everyone was there once, himself no exception. Pays such attention to detail you will catch him making the smallest of adjustments, even little things like changing the position of your fingers with his.

Desiring to prove both his and his people’s worth, Boromir attends with you at his side a joust hosted by Gondor’s men. You delight in choosing and cheering on a champion, shouting with joy at his successes and sympathizing with strikes against him. When, you think aloud to Boromir, was the last time you both laughed so? Pulling you close, he tells you he does not remember when, but if he has his way it will be soon again.

If you desire exploration, you know that Gimli will be right at your side to enjoy the world’s beauty. Caves, of course, are a domain of his people, expanses of stone glittering on walls and hanging down to your level. Forests, too, homes of fairer beings and much provision. Things Gimli has sworn to protect and love in this life that he wishes to experience with the greatest of them all… you. Never does he tire of telling you nature is beautiful, but more so are you.

Frodo encourages your writing. He himself has penned you many a poem, but there is nothing like your voice, physical or metaphorical, sharing a story with him. His dream is a book containing both of your stories, perhaps even an addition to his uncle’s story. If you feel called to share stories of others, even simple escapes from reality, Frodo is your greatest supporter. With all that he endures, ever a relief is it to hear you speak of a world so different from his own.

Botany, Samwise Gamgee thinks, is best learned amongst the flowers themselves. Rather than stuff you up into the pages of some book, he takes you walking down winding Shire-paths of flowers and bushes, showing you how he can tell what's related by things like leaf shape and giving you little tips and tricks to remember bloom names. “If you forget forget-me-nots, after all,” he teases with a wink, “you’re doing them quite the disservice!”

Merry teaches you his method of whittling, the way he crafts little trinkets of wood to keep occupied in idle times. When you feel more confident in your skills, Merry challenges you: he crafts a little figure of you and you of him. Complain as you do that his lovely hair is hard to capture, in the end you are proud of your first figure and Merry keeps it in the pocket closest to his heart. Those figures serve as the cake topper at your wedding a little ways down the line!

It can be a messy time, but Pippin adores spending time in the kitchen with you! Not only because he knows you’ll acquiesce him with little tastes, but because he’s fascinated at the process, the way you throw things together to make something beautiful and are so willing to have a feast made whenever guests call. Ever one for physical touch, Pippin enjoys sugary-sweet moments like sneaking up behind you for a kiss as you’re occupied kneading dough or standing against you to help stir your soup. And yes, sometimes he spills, but he always apologizes and cleans up after himself and don’t we all make mistakes?

Faramir reads with you, or, if you are stressed, to you. Sharing a love of your land’s myth, the studies of triumphs, follies, and magics past are like traveling far away to him, so to have a companion in that rings deep joy into his heart. He cannot help sometimes comparing the great love stories of Middle Earth to the way you found each other. Faramir is the type to know all your favorite tales and offer them to you at just the right time, sitting you in his lap or against his chest on a bed as he peels the pages open for you.

Smithing is something Eomer is confident you can learn, especially if he knows you wish to be involved in battles and wants to keep you safe! Being a supplier is just as important, otherwise there would be no blades to hoist for Rohan. Always encouraging you to hit harder and chuckling at your initial fear of the red-hot steel, Eomer loves standing behind you and guiding your motions. Perhaps even using this as an opportunity to sneak a kiss!

Haldir shows you how he cares for trees, even the smallest pieces of creation. Small potted trees akin to bonsais decorate shelves and tables in Lothlorien, and trimming and shaping them is an art form in and of itself. Nurturing a tiny, delicate life, after all, requires more intricacies than the greater fortitude. Microcosms of Haldir’s home forest sit before you as you take in his reverent, peaceful smile, hear his guiding words about the nutrients they need. You never tire of the focus spread across his face, the gentle opening of tiny blossoms.

Eowyn adores sparring with you no matter your skill level, moving slower or picking up her pace depending on it. She never wishes to go too hard on you, but does want to push you to try new things and experience different angles so you can keep yourself safe in a fight, Valar forbid you are so threatened. Sometimes your sparring is more playful, more just the two of you chasing each other around with wooden swords and one knocking the other over at the end of it, laughing as you tumble to the ground.

Enjoying the occasional swim, Arwen invites you into one of her home's gorgeous pools with her, stripping you both down to thinner layers as you step into perfectly, perhaps magically, warmed water. Polished stones roll beneath your feet as you wade over to each other, hands joining as you float in peaceful, loving silence. A smile spreads across Arwen's face before she gives you a light, teasing splash, silence quickly devolving into giggles as your troubles lighten.

Elrond is known for making some of the best tea in Middle Earth, and you experience his skills and then some. Not only does the lord of Imladris brew you a cup of your favorite herbal blend, he will also ensure that his bakers have pastries warm and ready and the loveliest toppings. Your relaxation time is like a little ceremony, Elrond pouring your drink and serving you all you wish on your little platter. You will not so much as lift a finger until it is to take a sip of the warm comfort as you and Elrond watch the surrounding waterfalls.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @joonies-word | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

[14dyh]

#18!! I just wanna make hange jealous/be jealous

Replacement | H.Z.

Pairing: Hange Zoë x female reader Summary: Hange seems to love it when you style your hair a certain way. Content Warning: slow-burn - happy beginning, things fall apart, angst, jealousy, lots of mentions of pikuhan (because they were ex lovers on this one), doubts and insecurities, reader is mentioned as kinda feminine Word count: 3.2k A/N: sorry this took so long. it was a bit slow but i hope you'll like it, anon :)

It has been a month of exchanging letters with Hange, and a few minutes of waiting for their arrival in the dock when you spotted their figure on the ship. The bluish sky seemed to brighten as the ship drew closer, your eyes brimming with joy at once when Hange came running to you once the ship landed.

Family, lovers, and friends await, the waiting area almost filled in groups of twos or threes but all seemed to blur out once Hange filled your vision, hands around your waist as they happily twirled you around. You smile into their neck, your fingers finding their way back to the soft brown hair you longed to touch.

Hange nestled their head onto your body, their grip unrelenting as they inhaled the familiar flowery scent from your perfume that always makes them smile.  "I missed you, sweetheart," they smiled against your ear.

As you walked hand in hand towards the awaiting train, you expected the heliotropes they brought out of their coat, the never-ending stories of fascinating things they encountered from their trip, and most of all the photographs and souvenirs they bought for you. But they showed you something that sent your senses frozen in both disbelief and overjoy. They fished out a small velvet box from their pocket, one that reminded you of the curtains and sheets you share at home. Your mind cannot fathom how your early morning on the train could start with a marriage proposal and an engagement ring on your finger but your thoughts failed to speak as you caught Hange by surprise through a tight embrace, whispering a small "yes, I'll marry you" on their coat before soaking it with your tears.

-

"Don't cry anymore, sweetheart," Hange chuckled, kissing the last few tears from your cheeks before the train stopped. "I don't like making my future bride cry, you know that."

A smile etched on your lips as you depart the train. You longed for this usual banter, their laughs, the way their eyes smile whenever they face you. Not long ago, these images plagued your dreams in a rosy film, wishing every waking for your dreams to be true. Maybe have a life where Hange doesn't have to be away from you for so long, a less demanding job perhaps? You wonder if a sudden shift would occur once you're married.

Rows of greenery grew near the embankment, the water rippling gently along the wind as you walked hand in hand. A short walk full of promises, and excited glimpses at what the future could be.

"After our wedding, maybe I'll take a week or month off from work," they would say, hand around yours. "I'll spend time making you happy. In many aspects. Would you like that, dear?"

You knew with half of your heart that they were trying to cheer you up, their fulfilling presence healing the time lost. Hange knew you enjoyed lounging at home, tending on the expanse of your garden. It felt like a perfect view, you and the flowers around you. Simple and tender, reminding Hange to purchase a camera once they returned to Marley to capture such moments.

Later that day Hange received an invitation letter. It was a simple party in the headquarters to welcome them back, along with the new Marleyan visitors.

"It wasn't such a big party, we can style ourselves then." Hange placed the invitation at the bedside table, gaze lingering on yours as you gently comb your hair.

"Say, sweetheart. Remember the way you styled your hair the last time? I think it looks beautiful on you."

Your mind recalled the way you styled your hair to their wishes. Your hands went to part your locks, fingers remembering how that style frames your face and a gentle ponytail hung on your back.

Hange's eyes smiled at you, walking over to place a kiss on your head.

"You're beautiful, Y/N," Hange whispered. Their every adoration sounded like sweet music, serenading your heart. A mellow wind blowing any doubt that would linger in your heart. They're right. You're beautiful in this hairstyle, Hange always shows you with how whenever their slender hands slip under your hair to cup your face in a loving kiss. One that sends you out of oblivion and illuminates everything.

Hange spent the night with their arms wrapped around you, their every kiss and praise sending a jolt through your skin. They would occasionally Twirl your locks around their fingers, eyes in deep rapture just by gazing at you. Their tenderness washed your worries ashore. Perhaps tomorrow you'd tell your mother about your marriage, wishing for a positive response despite knowing that you'll only come to hear a skeptical one. After all, you've only known the Commander for a few months. Tracing back your memory, has it even been eight months? You wondered. But as Hange muttered a final good night against your cheek, you were slowly rocked into slumber, dreaming of all the flowers you could place on your hair for tomorrow's party.

-

There was a single box that Hange refused to sort out or throw away. It wasn't taking up much space but you've always wondered if you could place it elsewhere if they wouldn't sort it out. As you pry the box open for a peek, you half wish this doesn't contain anything poisonous or preserved animals in jars. When the flap opened, you were greeted with a stack of envelopes, papers with their familiar handwriting, and most of all the fragrance of scented papers. You couldn't help but flip through the letters. For sure, they weren't old Survey Corps reports so you decided to look more closely and read.

Words of adoration, of longing, of intense feelings in the neat curls of Hange's handwriting. Your heart would have throbbed in happiness if it weren't for the dedication that wasn't for you.

To my beloved Pieck,

Your eyes read through, traveling around the very few photographs attached to the letters. There was Hange, smiling with a happy glint in their eyes as they held a woman with a familiar face. Of course, you know her, you might not have known her fully but you've seen her face several times. You always remarked them to be soft ones that fit her face perfectly.

It has been more than a year since Pieck and Hange broke up. It was peaceful departing from each other, you never heard a terrible word about her from Hange or their friends. If not, you heard how much Hange loved her.

You felt terrible for the tears welling in your eyes, of the heaviness weighing your heart whenever you looked at Hange's delighted smile frozen in the photograph. You wondered if you've made Hange smile in such a way if their eyes ever sparkled with just the thought of you. Looking at it for longer only creates a crevice within your heart, one that is enough to let doubtful thoughts in. You were about to seal away this box of memories once more when your eyes caught upon something. You briefly gazed at your reflection and back to the photographs Hange and Pieck shared. For a brief moment, you tried to deny it but your eyes couldn't help but gaze at how Pieck's hair frames her face, a ponytail tied low on her back.  Her usual style ever since she met Hange, but the way it mirrors the way your hair currently looked pricked your heart where it doesn't feel right.

The way your hair was tied looked very similar to hers and it almost appeared like you copied her. You loosened a few strands, tucking or siding it differently in an attempt to rid of the image. However, your little fussing stopped abruptly as you heard Hange's footsteps near the room.

"You getting ready for the party, sweetheart?" they asked casually, opening their cabinet to choose from the suits they picked earlier. "D'you think a red tie would look good on me?"

Their lighthearted tone only indicated that they didn't notice you hastily shoving the box back to its original position.  "I think it looks good on you, Hans," you remarked before standing up to smoothen your clothes.

They turned to you with a smile, running a hand through your hair in a way that the strands fell over to their original style despite your attempts to change it. "Get ready now, Y/N. I'll be waiting outside the bedroom."

-

Momentarily, you were snatched away from the terrible thoughts plaguing your mind. Hange's eyes remained on yours, never failing to tell you how beautiful you looked in that party. You stand out in a way, they said. Maybe it was the quaint old-fashioned dress, or the soft flowers adorned in your hair. However, you couldn't help but feel like everyone looked a different shade of elegant, synchronised almost as you called it.

You shared drinks with Hange, found new acquaintances, and were congratulated by Hange's friends for the upcoming marriage. Those were enough distractions to stray your mind away from the hairstyle you kept to please Hange or the way your eyes caught Hange greeting Pieck who arrived at the party. Sure, it was just a friendly greeting, nothing should be sour between them since they parted ways on good terms. But for a brief moment, you remembered the glint in their eye from the photograph kept in their box. Their smiling eye that sparkles.

It didn't help that when you fully turned in Pieck's direction, her hair was styled the same as yours, except for the flowers adorned in your head. You nibbled on your lip as you tried to avert your gaze, focusing on the swirling drink at hand or how cold the room was. Realizing you were in no position to protest or feel bad only weighed the situation. This was her hairstyle first. Hange was hers first.

You set the drink down quite loudly as if the sound would scare your thoughts away. You tried to depart from your seat but decided against it. However, you knew you were bound to converse with people eventually. Otherwise, you wouldn't have found yourself facing Pieck at one point in the evening.

"You look beautiful, Y/N," she praised you. You only gave her a soft smile in return even if your mind protested and desperately wished she hadn't said a thing.

-

The terrible dam you tried your best to keep broke within a nudge, like wounds stitched healed being delicately sliced open once more. You've doubted yourself enough the moment Hange slipped that ring on your finger. It felt like a hasty marriage, an opportunity for things to go awry from one simple mistake. You never thought you deserved to be a part of this marriage but you shoved the many possible hindrances at the back of your head when you happily agreed to it.

And even if you think that you never deserved Hange's love, you vowed to spend more than half of your life trying to deserve it. If that's how it should be, then so be it.

In selfish terms, it had to be you. You had to be the one they chose to keep their heart. Their choice was very evident with the ring on your finger and yet... you couldn't help but trace back to the love they shared with Pieck more than a year ago. Haven't they lasted a few years together before breaking up?

Such love couldn't rot in over a year, such deep roots couldn't be unearthed by a new love shared just because you came.

The box was there for a reason. Hange could never throw out their memories, no. Not entirely.

This is one of the things your mind could understand but your heart wouldn't.

Hange didn't like how silent you were on the ride back home, always looking out the window and never facing them. Your silence and the heaviness within disturbed them, but Hange sensed your fragility in those minutes. That perhaps touching you would shatter you into a million pieces.

You excused yourself to the bathroom as soon as you stepped out of the vehicle, the hair on your face getting disheveled by the second. Your anger within had no place but yourself. You couldn't be angry with Pieck when she's been kind the whole time, and you couldn't find yourself angrily accusing Hange of purposely making you style your hair like their ex-lover would when you were never sure if they did.

Before you knew it, your hands found the scissors lying near the sink. Your hands snipped away the hair framing your face, silent tears pouring out of your eyes as your gaze fell down the uneven clippings and severed petals littered across the sink.

The clippings felt like a sinister offering traded for peace. Maybe cutting it off was the only way to get rid of the image prompting those terrible thoughts. 

She looks perfectly elegant, jeweled simply, and you're a woman with no rank in the military and flowers tucked in her hair. Pathetic.

Your fists clenched the sink once again, struggling to pull yourself from the deep pit being created beneath your feet. Vines seemed to grow below the ground, pulling and ushering you in wicked silence to give in. Give in.

“Y/N.”

You partly registered how the door opened and how Hange’s arm wrapped around you in protection, the phantom vines dying right at their touch. Hange held you as they knew it was the only way to keep you from falling apart. You were a dejected being, a mess of some kind in the mirror. All of a sudden, your hair doesn’t seem to be that soft or your dress to be that pretty. You sobbed on Hange’s chest, burying your face in their coat the way you did yesterday at their proposal.

Hange ran a finger on your hair trimmed haphazardly, brushing away the rest of the flowers strangled by the strands. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Their eyes fell on the clippings on the floor, and the abandoned scissors on the sink. “Why did you do this?”

I don’t want to feel like a replacement anymore, you wanted to sob out. I don’t want you to remember her when you look at me. 

“Do you want to marry me to forget her?” The question slipped from your mouth even before you could stop yourself. 

“What…?” Hange muttered, the realization only beginning to sink in when they ran a hand through your hair, provoking a sense of familiarity. Hange understood by now who you meant.

“It’s just that… I’m having my doubts, Hange,” you said slowly, trying not to break into a pitiful voice. “Our marriage, and the box you kept under the bed… I know I sound ridiculous but… I want to hear it from you.”

Your eyes finally dared to meet theirs as you spoke, “Why do you even want to marry me?”

It was Hange’s turn to trace back into a phantom calendar in their head. It has been several months since you went out together and for half of those months, Hange has always intended to give that ring to you. Always in their pocket even a month before they went for the trip, waiting for the right opportunity until it presented itself yesterday. Hange feared your rejection. After all, it has only been months but… Hange have their own reasons.

Hange began to stroke your hair, slipping their fingers now and then to smooth out the tangles as they spoke.

“I thought maybe we still got to spend a few more months, hell, even years to know each other but... Y/N, you know I'm getting older, and time, well... time has been getting rougher. It was never kind to me... to us. I barely see you when work demands it. And I... I didn't even expect you would be happy to marry me.” A soft smile etched their lips at the memory of yesterday that brought relief in their heart.

"Y/N, it would break my heart if you misunderstood my intentions so let me clear it up this time. I'm not marrying you to get over Pieck or to secure a marriage so you won't leave me... It's just... I've never been so sure about anything in my life but this... "

Hange pressed a kiss on your forehead, their own tears teetering at the edge of their eye.

"I don't know what the future holds for me. And part of me doesn't even want to know because it terrifies me sometimes.

"We live in such a dangerous world. From my line of work, it's easy to anger people and have them take me out instead of resorting to peace. You see, Y/N... I just want to make sure... Make sure that I did something from my heart. Something I would never regret. "

A smile lifted in their lips despite their tears, and inner sorrow by the reality you both live in. You wanted to curse yourself for thinking that you both have all the time in the world. It was a wishful dream that only hurt you in the end. Your chest throbbed from the strained sobs erupting within you but Hange managed to calm you little by little by rubbing your back.

"People think that I understand things enough to have everything under control but I'm... I'm also full of uncertainties. I don't even know if half of the decisions I've made in my life were right,” they continued.

Hange circled a thumb over your hand, the other grazing the beading tears in your cheeks.

"So I'm giving myself this chance to act upon one thing I'm certain about." Hange's lips met your forehead once more, the tears from their cheek brushing against yours as they held you tight. "And that decision is marrying you, Y/N..."

You wanted to thank them for many things, for driving away all the worries nestled in your heart, for being someone to cry on, and for all the trust they placed on you the moment they vowed their heart and life to you. 

"I love you, Hange…” 

I’m sorry.

They chuckled, a soft one coming from their chest as they kept holding you. It amused them that a month ago, they would only hear your i love you's in their head as they read them from the letters you exchanged with each other. It always sounded better coming from your mouth.

"I love you too, Y/N,” Hange smiled. “From that day I saw a few daisies tucked in your hair, I knew I'd give you a ring someday..."

"But that's our first date, isn't it?" you asked.

"Oh, I know," they laughed softly. "I remember that day like a photograph."

Often, living in a cruel world seemed like a life carved out of pain and infinite regrets, brought by never-ending doubts born from such a distrustful world. But with Hange’s every touch, and every word laced with love, the dreadful pit making a home through the atrocities within yourself gradually vanished, smothered by the affection Hange gives.

You sat by the garden where the heliotropes Hange knew you loved grew. They carefully trim your uneven hair the way one trims a plant during growing seasons. Your kiss of gratitude brought a smile to their lips as they ran a hand over your hair once more. They think of you whenever blossoming heliotropes face the sun.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

[trondopeacekeeper]

//I wrote something quick yesterday. Muse is a bit down these days for rping (just because I'm extremely tired, lazy and LoL is trapping me) but I managed to write this little thing about Trondo. I hope you enjoy it! Picture is made by me with Xnalara :). It seems Trondo had a nice night of passion and the feelings coming after it. Slightly NSFW, some descriptions of implied sex.

🔪

Moonlight bathed the Artisans tranquil night in an ethereal glow. The pale luminescence danced across the carved stone structures, setting the jeweled walls blaze with a mesmerizing light. Amidst the whispering shadows, nocturnal owls hooted softly, their wise eyes ever watchful for unexpected prey. A gentle breeze rustled through the grass, its soothing melody playing along with the distant ocean's rhythmic pulse against the rugged cliffs. The occasional melancholy ballad of insomniac sheep wove through the serene tapestry of the night, a haunting serenade to the world beyond.

Trondo stood at his window, the wind caressing his long, loose hair as he gazed out at the breathtaking panorama. The rolling green hills, perched with towers and castles, stretched towards the mountains that embraced the coast. The classic architecture, elegant yet unpretentious, spoke to the Artisans' affinity for both beauty and practicality. As a Peace Keeper, Trondo had long foregone the luxuries many of his kind coveted. A humble lair carved into the same ground, a place of safety, was all he required. Yet, here he found himself within the grand Artisans castle surrounded by silks of vibrant hues and the sweet perfume of wild flowers. The opulence was quite long away from his usual rustic preferences but he couldn't deny the occasional allure of such refinement.

His gaze wandered through the room, taking in the intricate tapestries and plush carpets. And it was the sight of the canopy bed with that figure nestled within silken sheets that truly captured his attention. A fairy of sensual curves and shimmering wings lay deeply asleep, a vision of peaceful loveliness. Trondo felt a pang in his chest, a mix of longing and regret.

This Peace Keeper was known for their stoicism, his passions simmering beneath an unyielding exterior. As Trondo sat beside the fairy and watched at her naked form bathed in moonlight, he found himself succumbing to a desire he couldn't ignore. The Artisans fairies were renowned for their audacious nature, their willingness to embrace life's pleasures. Trondo had always dismissed such tales as mere fantasy, until he met her. Her fearless approach, her bright smile, had breached his defenses in a way few others ever had.

Memories of their impassioned encounter still burned within him. The push and pull of their bodies, the fervor of their kisses, the sweet surrender. He had let his guard down, allowed himself to be covered in the tide of her affection. And now, as he gazed upon her serene face, he couldn't help but wonder at his own vulnerability.

With a quiet sigh, Trondo rose from the bed, carefully to not disturb her. He moved to a nearby mirror, his reflection staring back at him. His physique, honed from countless battles, seemed revitalized by the magic of their night together. But beneath the surface, a turmoil brewed.

He quickly gathered his belongings, his movements fueled by that growing sense of urgency. Before leaving the room, he took a glance at the sleeping fairy, wishing he could stay longer there with her.

As he navigated the castle's corridors, a question echoed within him: Could he truly embrace this peaceful existence, devoid of the pressures and passions of war? The notion seemed as a capricious as a dream upon waking. He was a dragon from Peacekeepers, his path forever intertwined with the fate of the Realms. His duty was clear: to wield the power of justice, to bring balance through the fiercest of the means.

Stepping into a vine-shrouded balcony, Trondo gazed out at the sea, its expanse mirroring the dawn-kissed sky and touched his own face with a sad expression. His respite had come to an end. The call of battle, of his true purpose, beckoned. With a heavy heart, he spread his wings, the wind whipping his hair as he took to the heavens. The Artisans' serene world fell away, replaced by the familiar thrum of battle, of dust and adrenaline. He was the Assassin, and this was his destiny.

War.

[acidicbarkbeast]

part0, part1, part2, part3 (coming soon)

medieval fantasy steddie au warnings: none

Nasty, foul people the King and Queen of Lenora were, but they paid decently and Eddie had the rare pleasure of finding significant joy in what's become his life's work.

So, somewhat reluctantly, he swallowed any words he had in the face of their demands, sat on his cushioned stool, and plucked his lute. Where it was effortless, it was only what he was asked: slow, long, melodious sounds, more ambiance than a show.

He guessed then, much like the ambiance of the spring wind ruffling the leaves of trees, the royals seemed to have forgotten that there was a musician behind the song. They spoke openly, and around him, gossiping lots, talking lowly of others.

"We mustn't flaunt." Cecilia reminded her husband, "What if the people grow suspicious?"

Richard looked up from his cup rich with wine, "Of what, dearest? Any proper nobility must look the part. We are only claiming what should be rightfully ours, by any means possible."

Eddie had noticed, recently, that the Harringtons had come into a large sum of wealth. As far as he was aware, there hadn't been any recent battles won, any land conquered, nor any contracts signed.

Nothing had changed, and yet, there the royals were, popping expensive cheeses into their mouths and sipping on smooth, aged, burgundy drink. They wore finely sewn clothes, the extravagant material puffing up around their necks like ruffled birds.

Eddie only thought it made their heads look shrunken.

"And what when the river runs dry?" The Queen asked, "A bounty can only last so long. It isn't bottomless."

Her husband clicked his tongue, smiling devilishly at her, "Oh, dearest... Those ugly reptiles are meant to bring riches! Luck! Boundless good fortune! We must only be patient, as we were in capturing the foul beast to begin with."

Cecilia hummed in consideration, "I suppose..."

Most definitely a bit tipsy, Richard giggled, and his face was red and cheery, the embodiment of contentment, "I knew you'd share my vision, my love." He relaxed more into his chair with a long sigh, "Life is fine with such luxury, is it not."

Swirling the wine in her chalice, she seemingly conceded, "Fine it is, Richard. I fail to imagine any other way to live."

Grimacing, Eddie held from scoffing. These rich buffoons couldn't fathom the true beauty of life if it looked them in the eye and spoke their names. Life was uncertainty, it was chaos, it was peace. Life was everything that could not be contained, and this? This lavish living, that eliminated all troubles, was like existence in a cave.

But Eddie knew better than to give his own opinion in the presence of the royals. He was to be heard by way of his music, and nothing else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once again, he found himself wandering. This time, it was in the expansive gardens. The beds of blooming flowers were the brightest and most colorful piece of the castle. The gardens were a quiet respite. And while the greenery was maintained so as to not overgrow, and while the hedges were trimmed into unnatural shapes, it was enough.

Eddie was someone who could feel absurdly lonely at times, but the gardens offered a different kind of solitude, one that he believed encouraged his writing, either in comedy or in song. Much like the flowers; here, he flourished.

He sat on a white stone bench, the rock expertly and expensively carved to perfectly harmonize with the lush foliage. A pleasantly warm breeze carried with it the sweet fragrance of soft petals, calming his senses.

After a long day playing until his fingers became sore, all Eddie wished for was some peace.

"'Thought I'd find you here." A voice startled him, and Eddie shot his head up to find Michael Wheeler walking leisurely down the stone-pathed path.

The musician tilted his head, "Someone requested my presence?"

"No one." The boy muttered, taking a seat next to Eddie, where he leaned his chin on his hands, elbows resting on his knees, "'Needed someplace free of all their bickering."

"Ah," The older hummed, "The baker and the squire have yet to seize their arguing, have they?"

Mike groaned, "It's only gotten worse!"

"How so?" Eddie prompted.

With renewed exasperation, the young scribe tore into the supposed idiocy of his friends, and condemned their pointless fighting. Apparently, Dustin had lately been retreating from their group, and Lucas, occupying himself more and more with his duties. Mike, ever the observant one, was trapped between the two, watching as they fell away from each other.

Truthfully, where Eddie could listen, he did not know the children so personally as to give any advice that wasn't mostly general. Somehow, they would need to arrange a kind of intervention between the warring boys.

"If you can persuade Sinclair into a meeting, even under a trick," Eddie offered, "Then I can talk to Henderson. With some luck, and my clever speaking, perhaps we could mend this rift?"

With his mouth pulled into a thin line, Mike nodded, "Lord, let us hope."

They parted after that, with the boy excusing himself to continue his day-to-day recording, truly a career that never slept. He seemed doubtful that they alone would so easily find a solution to the problem at hand, so Eddie would have to keep the carriage rolling with his own will.

[jjungkookislife]

Secret ||PJM || Pt. 12: Celebrate (M)

↬ pairing: sugar daddy!jimin x sugar baby!reader

↬ genre: smut, angst (tiny)

↬ wc: 3k

↬ warnings: cursing, they both have FEELINGS, office!quickie, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), spanking, unprotected sex, creampie

↬ date: May 16, 2021

A smile lit up your face as the elevator doors shut. You were only going up one floor, but you didn’t want to risk twisting your ankle on the stairs. Jimin would be in his office, eager to hear about your meeting, and you didn’t see why you shouldn’t update him in person.

The doors to the elevator open when they arrive at his floor. You step out, opening your purse to fish your ID to show to the receptionist. It was rare for you to make an appearance at Jimin’s office, but you were always allowed to see him, with the exception of his father being present.

“Miss Y/n!” The receptionist rises from her seat, greeting you with a smile and a handshake. 

“Hello, is Jimin in his office?” you ask, looking over your shoulder in hopes of seeing him.

“Yes, go right ahead. I’ll announce your arrival.”

“No need. I want to surprise him,” you state before waving to head to his office. You pause for a moment, taking a deep breath before turning the doorknob and walking in.

Jimin is on the phone, sitting at his desk with his feet kicked up. He raises a brow at the sound of his door opening, but grins when he sees it’s you. He hastily finishes his phone call, turning his phone off before using the intercom to have all his calls held.

“Princess,” Jimin greets you, rising from his chair to pull you into a hug. He kisses your cheek, his hands holding yours in his. “How’d it go?”

A grin lights up your face, immediately spilling all the details of your meeting with eagerness. Jimin finds himself smiling, squeezing your hands in his as he hangs on every word. He doesn’t want to admit he’s overjoyed; this was just a friend helping a friend. Right?

However, he doesn’t let the whirling of his thoughts take away from you or your achievement. He knew you’d do well, despite being drunk as a skunk the previous night. When you’d lay in his bed, your head on his chest, his arm around your shoulders, you spilled all your worries. What if you failed? What if you disappointed him? What if it fell through?

Jimin held you, laced his fingers with yours as you aired out everything. He kissed your fingertips, his soft lips helping you relax. You’d felt safe in his arms, his kisses chasing every worry away. He reassured you with whispered words, soft touches and kisses until you felt confident once again.

Jimin knows he’s in too deep. He can try to deny it as much as he wants, but his heart knows the truth. And it’s fucking terrifying. He would move earth, hell, and heaven to see that gorgeous smile illuminate your face. Would do anything you asked of him for just a grin. But you… you couldn’t see him like that. Couldn’t see him as more than just a bank account. He knew that much… had experienced that much all his life. It was easier to pay someone upfront, then have them feign interest in him just to get at his wallet. He was so sick of fake love. He didn’t need it, didn’t want it… but what were these feelings you arouse in him?

“What do you think?” you repeat, head quirking when Jimin doesn’t answer.

“Hmm, baby?” Jimin blinks, stepping back to shake his head clear of all his thoughts. A proud smile on his lips.

“Dinner with everyone tonight? Then on Friday we can all go out for drinks,” You tell him, brows furrowing. “Are you okay?”

Jimin cards his hand through his hair. “Yeah, baby. We’ll celebrate tonight and Friday. I’m all yours.”

“Yay! Thank you, daddy!” You jumped up and down. Jimin couldn’t help but stare as your chest bounced; he licked his lips. 

“Come here, princess”

You approach him, still smiling brightly. He loves the way your eyes sparkle with happiness; he hopes he’s able to make you that happy for the rest of his life.

A frown mars his face for a moment, but it’s gone before you can comment on it. His lips brushing yours, his hand coming to cup your cheek. Jimin kisses you softly, holds you as if you were a delicate flower. There’s no rush in his kisses, savoring the sweet taste of your lips as his other hand comes to rest on your hip.

“Jimin.” The sigh of his name has him pulling you closer. Your hands wrap around his waist, wanting to be closer to him despite already being up against his body. 

“Angel,” he murmurs as his lips trail kisses down your jaw to the column of your throat. You arch into him, head lolling back slightly to allow him more room. He thanks you with a playful nip, chuckling when he hears the stutter in your breath, your fingers gripping his shirt tightly.

“J-Jimin,” you stutter, eyes fluttering shut as he pulls the strap of your dress off of your shoulder. His lips plant featherlight kisses on your skin, before moving to your other shoulder and doing the same.

“So beautiful,” he mutters to himself. “And all mine. Only mine.”

“Yours,” you echo, moaning when his hands cup your breasts over your dress. His touch is fiery, it ignites your body, yearning for more.

A growl escapes Jimin, his hold on you tightening as the kiss deepens. Your fingers run through his locks, tugging at the ends, and  earning a delectable moan from the CEO.

“Fuck,” Jimin pants, his lust-filled eyes meeting your own. His chest rises and falls, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, a hand running through his mussed hair.

“Jimin,” you bite your lip, an action that draws his gaze to them. His cock throbs in the confines of his pants. He’s got to have you. Now.

Jimin steps around you, chuckling deviously as he pushes every item off his desk. Papers scattered on the floor, followed by his phone clattering onto the floor, and he smirks at you. Your eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping your lips before Jimin is lifting you and setting you on his desk.

Without wasting a moment, Jimin’s plush lips are on yours once again, taking your breath away as his hands grip your hips. Your legs wrap around him, a chuckle escaping him.

“Eager?” he asks teasingly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, nodding, your hands running up his arms as his palms rest on your thighs, caressing them slowly. 

The feel of his touch sends sparks down your spine, aching to have him closer. His lips press against yours as your hands tug at his suit jacket. He breaks the kiss to discard it on the floor, tugging off his tie before he’s kissing you once again.

You arch into his touch, the softness of his lips on the expanse of your neck. He’s slowly guiding you onto your back, spreading your thighs for him. He doesn’t waste time ripping your panties down your legs to put in the pocket of his pants.

His lips trail kisses up your leg, jutting your dress upward to bunch at your hips.

“So pretty,” he muses as he sucks a mark onto your thigh before moving higher. He groans at the scent of your wet pussy, his fingers spreading the lips, grunting when he sees how wet you are for him. For a moment he wants to say those three words, but he swallows them instead to focus on your dripping cunt.

“Jimin,” you gasp when a kiss is pressed on your skin. 

“Yes, princess?” he asks, looking at you from between your thighs, a salacious smirk on his lips.

You grin, your hand delicately weaving in his hair.  

“More.”

“More?” he chuckles. Two of his fingers slide into you easily, a soft moan escaping your lips. You know you need to be quiet, not wanting to alert his receptionist or his assistant of what their boss is doing to you, but all those thoughts flee your mind when his tongue licks a broad stripe over your folds.

Jimin smirks, watching as you twitch at the feel of his tongue as he goes in for seconds, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a languid pace. Your hands grip the edge of the desk, legs draped over his shoulders as you resist the urge to thread your fingers through his perfectly done hair. You know he wouldn’t care if you messed it up, but you were trying to be secretive. Nobody could know about this.

“Jimin,” you arch, melting into nothingness at his ministrations. You hate being on a time restraint. Wishing more than anything you were back at his place where he could take his time with you. However, it’ll have to do. You’d do anything to come now that his devilish tongue was swirling around your clit, lips sucking it gently in the way that has your thighs trembling. Jimin meets your gaze, your eyes fluttering shut. His beauty is too much for you to handle when he’s slotted between your thighs, eating your cunt like it’s the best meal he’s ever had.

“Look at me,” he growls, heat pooling deep in your abdomen. Waves of pleasure rolling over you as you lock eyes with him. His fingers curl inside you, teasing you as his tongue works wonders on your clit. “So pretty.”

You whine, feeling vulnerable as he dives in, too focused on your arousal to notice. You moan, wanting more of his lips and tongue. You know you’re getting close, your breathing growing ragged and thighs quivering as you accidentally squeeze his head in between when it hits you. Jimin chuckles, his breath ghosting your skin as he laves at your cunt. The sweet sounds that escape you go directly to his throbbing cock. He’s so fucking hard, desperate to feel your pretty cunt wrapped around him.

“Jimin,” you sigh, panting as he places your legs back down. He smirks, licking his lips as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean. “Fuck.”

Jimin doesn’t waste time, his hands grip your hips as he helps you to your feet. His lips capture yours, his hand on the nape of your neck to hold you close as he deepens the kiss. His tongue slips past the seam of your lips, meeting yours as your hands undo the buttons of his shirt. You tug it off him, allowing it to fall on the floor. Your hands roam his bare chest freely, wishing you could leave your lipstick prints all over his skin. Maybe you’d get the chance tonight?

“We need to hurry,” he reminds you as he trails kisses to your neck, nipping at the skin as you give in, running your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly. Jimin groans into your neck, planting a kiss on your collarbone as your hand grips his erection over his pants. A hiss leaves his lips. You undo the button of his pants, pulling the zipper down in one swift move. 

Jimin stops you from taking his cock out, kissing you instead. His hands cup your face as your hands come to rest on his wrists. Jimin loves the softness of your lips, the feel of them against his as they move perfectly in sync. He could kiss you forever if given the chance.

“Jimin,” you moan against his lips, fingers lacing with his. He brings your twined hands to his lips, kissing each of yours before letting them go. He presses a kiss to your forehead, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks. How were you so beautiful? How did you manage to make a home in his heart?

“Turn around,” Jimin whispers, his touch no longer soft as he spins you around. Your palms land on his desk as he caresses your body, hoping all thoughts of love would just disappear if he focused on your body instead. Sex was easy. Sex he could handle without the burden of emotions you arose in him, and as his hand smacks your ass and you moan his name in pleasure, it’s enough for those thoughts to dissipate.

Jimin pulls his pants and boxers down just enough to release his cock. He stroked himself, the head of his cock pressing against your folds, collecting your arousal on the head before he sinks in. 

“Fuck, princess.”

“Jimin!” You moan, holding yourself up on your elbows as his hand pushes on your back to hold you in place. He caressed your skin for a few moments before he’s gripping your hips. 

Jimin moans your name in a husky tone that has your head reeling. His hold on you is tight; you can’t help but wish he was holding you tighter as he fucks himself into you. 

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around me, princess.” Jimin grunts, pushing his hair out of his eyes before his hand is moving between your thighs to rub at your clit. 

“Fuck me harder,” you plead, your hips moving to meet Jimin’s thrusts. Jimin growls, fucking you harder, faster as you bite on your bottom lip to muffle your moans. 

“That’s it, baby. Take my cock. Take it,” Jimin grunts, throwing his head back as he fucks you harder like you’ve asked. Each of his thrusts has your eyes rolling back, whimpers and cries escaping your lips. You’re sure you’re near tears, your body overwhelmed with the pleasure Jimin’s providing.

You’re unsteady on your heels and Jimin wraps his arm around your hips to hold you up while plowing into you. He curses, eyes fluttering shut as you clench around him, moaning his name. 

“Fuck, that’s it. Your wet cunt takes my cock so well. You love when I fuck you full. Don’t you, baby?” Jimin moans, smacking your ass when you don’t answer him immediately. 

“Yes! Yes!” You cry out, thighs quivering as you move one hand between your legs to rub at your clit. Jimin grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing it as he fucks you. You can feel the pleasure building, searing you from the inside out as you warn Jimin of your impending orgasm. 

“Just a little more,” he huffs, hips slapping against your ass over and over again. He’s so close, he can feel it. You cry out his name, forgetting you’re fucking in his office in the middle of the work day. You don’t care. You don’t fucking care who hears your man fucking you over his desk. He’s yours and you’ll gladly make everyone aware of it as you come wrapped around his fat cock, his name rolling off your tongue in a heavenly moan that has Jimin’s hips stuttering. A few more thrusts and your pulsating cunt is all it takes for him to find his release. He thrusts into you sloppily, groaning and cursing as he fucks his cum into you, not wasting a drop. 

Jimin falls over you, panting as his arms wrap around you. You don’t care that he’s sweaty, sticking to your back as he rights the both of you before he pulls out. 

“Damn,” Jimin pants with a shit-eating grin on his face. “You should come see me at work more often.”

“If I did, you’d never get anything done.” you giggle as you try to catch your breath. You fan yourself with your hand, your chest rising and falling. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” Jimin jokes, carding a hand through his hair. This wasn’t how he imagined spending his lunch break, but he’d take this any day. He pulls you to him, brushing his lips against yours, his hand caressing your side. 

“I hate that you have to go,” Jimin murmurs against your lips, stealing a kiss as he adjusts his pants after zipping and buttoning them. 

“Me too,” you say in between kisses, your fingers moving quickly to button up Jimin’s shirt. You press a kiss to his chest before buttoning the last button. Jimin hands you his tie for you to tie for him. He always liked when you did it, it felt more domestic. Although he’d never admit to it out loud. 

Jimin wraps his arms around you, holding you to his chest. You don’t care that you’re practically naked except for your heels and your dress bunched at your hips. You allow him to hold you, to kiss you because you don’t want to leave. You’d rather spend the day with him, even if you just sat in a chair all day. But that wasn’t ideal, and you weren’t about to suggest you stay. Your mind was already whirling with thoughts about him, and how he’s always so gentle with you outside of bed… almost like he cares about you. But that’s not Jimin, and it would do you a whole world of good if you got that through your thick skull and accepted it. 

With one last deep, passionate kiss, Jimin helps you redress. He takes your panties out of his pocket and helps you step into them. You grimace at the feeling but can’t protest when he’s stuffed you full of his cum. He smiles sheepishly, apologizing with a kiss to your temple.

“I’ll see you tonight, baby. Here,” Jimin reaches into his pants to take his wallet out, handing you a thick stack of bills. “Get yourself a new outfit for tonight.”

“Thanks, Jimin,” you take the money from him, ignoring the sinking feeling in your chest. 

“I’ll see you tonight, princess.” Jimin presses a chaste kiss to your lips before walking you to the door of his office.

You give him one last wave before heading to the elevator, avoiding the curious gaze of the receptionist. You’re sure she can put two and two together. 

Once you’re safely inside the elevator, you lean against the back wall. The uncomfortable feeling of Jimin’s money in your purse makes you feel uneasy. You’re well aware you’ve started caring more for him but all you are to him is an investment and you don’t like the feeling. You take your phone out of your bag, pushing all those confusing thoughts to the back of your mind as you read the messages you’ve missed from your friends. You can find comfort in them instead. 

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materlist

a/n: please like, comment, reblog or send an ask! :) I’d love to hear your thoughts. thank you for reading!

[sleepylixie]

Pearls & Lilies 

Seawalker/Merman Jeongin X Spellcaster! Fem Reader (platonic)

1.6k words, fluff, Beware of a singular mention of injury ( no toes were farmed in the making of this piece of fiction)

Fantasy AU, Supernatural! SKZ, Part-2 of Prince of Pearls from the In Umbra Universe (this can be read individually) 

A/N: I’m back with my favourite merman! A Happy late( in my country and his)  birthday to the Maknae on top Yang Jeongin ehe~ Here is my little addition to the In Umbra fic collection AT LONG LAST. Hope you like this! Do let me know what y’all think :) 

Time flowed slowly in Atlantis, it seemed- almost like the underwater resided in a whole different plane of existence from the world he’d been a part of not too long ago. Jeongin realized this when his mortal body clock prompted him to sleep twice in a day- It was a nice feeling, like he was watching mortal time tick past him without taking him with it. Turned out, he wasn’t wrong.

Atlantis and the expansive merpeople kingdom had an entire plane to themselves, much like the ones the other supernatural races had for themselves- it was called Thallasia.

He remembered sitting with a cherry-haired female mermaid named Yeri and her brother Jungwoo before his first day of classes, listening intently to their long-winded descriptions of Thallasia. They spoke highly of the underwater plane, with its depthless trenches with blinking lights for the houses built into the sides, the meadows filled with coral that glowed in the dark and castles built of granite, agate and studded greenstone.

Jungwoo even went as far as to whisper of a secret pathway into the mortal plane, promising to show him later in the day when he noticed Jeongin’s attention visible pique at the words. That very night, Jungwoo showed him the seaweed-covered tunnel and led straight into the darker, murkier open seas of the mortal plane.

Seawalkers- mortals turned merpeople- were allowed to go back to land whenever they wished provided they never divulge the existence or location of Thallasia and Atlantis. Unlike trueborn merpeople, they retained the power to use feet or fins as they wished, which allowed seawalkers to tread land as and when they wished. The secret of Thallasia was a well-kept one to the landwalking mortals because seawalkers were created woefully rare and far in between. 

That pathway became one of his most frequented corners of Atlantis in no time. Every other weekend’s sunrise would find him slipping through the seaweed and swimming down the long tunnel into the mortal seas. His personal plans of reuniting the merpeople with the landwalkers only solidified with every visit he paid to Busan and the towns that were rapidly developing around his hometown- but with his visits, he came to developing one new relationship. You.

He remembered his first steps on land, Jungwoo’s head poking out of the water as he watched Jeongin with bright, curious eyes. The feel of the sand on his toes pulled a wide grin to his face, his eyes welling up with tears from emotions he was yet to place. It was at that moment when he realised, he missed the land.

He missed having legs, feeling the crisp air in his lungs in the midst of a long run on the sand, feeling the fine grains under his toes. He missed climbing up trees for fresh fruit, his palms and soles chafing against the rough bark of the trees. He missed watching the sunrise and set and the chilly breeze against his arms but most of all, he missed his parents. Despite loving his new seawalker life and all the novelty it offered, it wasn’t entirely his own: Jeongin’s blood might have always sung for the oceans, but his heart was mortal born and raised. 

//

“Hello, seawalker.” Jeongin’s lips quirked up of their own accord when he heard your voice, drawling and accented before you slipped into the chair in bench in front of him. Salen’s Bar and Inn was a supernatural haunt he’d taken to rather quickly, with the boisterous crowd and young owners who knew how to keep their patrons happy. One of the owners named Hongjoong, a former seawalker who had renounced the ocean after centuries of piracy, often enjoyed Jeongin’s  whispered stories of Thallasia and Atlantis.

“Hello, charlatan.” he mockingly raised his glass of orange juice at you. You gasped in mock offence, reaching over to smack his arm. “How dare you! I am a respectable young lady, a successful tradeswoman at that!”

“Say what you will,” Jeongin chortled, sipping his drink. “But the only reason you sell anything if because of magic. Doesn’t that make you a fake?”

“I tell all of them it’s magic, it’s their fault they don’t believe me!” You laughed aloud before flagging down one of the waiters, placing your usual order and a mug of hot coffee. “Jeongin watched as you settled yourself further onto the bench, pulling off your heavy midnight cloak and fixing your sleeves and dress around your now cross-legged feet.

His first meeting with you had been an odd one. Jeongin’s mother had run out of ginger and herbs and threw him out of the house to do a grocery run for her, late in the evening. Quickly making his purchases, he decided to take the scenic route back home, away from the beach road and through a copse of trees. What he did not realize was that somebody else had taken that exact route that evening and had panicked at the sound of him following them.

Imagine Jeongin’s surprise when he was waylaid by an angry-looking girl with green sparks lighting up the tips of her fingers, telling him to back off from her trade items before she sliced his toes off. It was one of his life’s greatest embarrassments that he’d screamed in a rather high-pitched manner when you’d appeared out of thin air, your eyes shining unnaturally bright against the darkness of the copse.

After copious amounts of explaining from Jeongin, you relented, letting him pass with a begrudging apology- but Jeongin insisted on walking you all the way to your doorstep in a gesture of goodwill.

You were a spellcaster from the skinwalker plane Kyrmena- particularly from Gumiho territory, where your accent came from. Your parents had let you travel the country when you became of age, letting you learn more of the world by yourself. Busan had captured your heart for its serene beachside and the approachable people, which was why you set up a little home for yourself in Salen’s Inn, trusting Hongjoong and Yeosang’s hideout for the land living supernatural races.

That had been more than 6 months ago, the two of you becoming fast friends over Jeongin’s weekend visits. It was now tradition for him to take up this particular table at Salen’s before you bustled in from your market run, your hair tousled from the sea breeze. You were always the last person he met before heading back to Thallasia, bidding him adieu at the beach when he left.

“Yeosang has been begging me to make him a pearl and lily circlet for him lately,” you were saying, your accent curling curiously as your hands fluttered around you. “But who’s going to tell him the only pearls I have are the fake ones? I’m not going to give a dear friend a fake pearl circlet!”

Jeongin leaned on the table, his fingers lacing together as he stared at you incredulously. “Are you dense or just well and truly blind?” He asked, his voice betraying the extent of his exasperated amusement. You stopped and stared at him, your eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You’re talking to a seawalker, “ Jeongin pointed exaggeratedly to himself, “about lacking pearls.” Your eyes widened, palm smacking against your forehead in a rather comical manner. “Wow, I’m truly a few bolts short of normal today.” you grumbled before fixing Jeongin with a beseeching stare.

“Get me some pearls, please? My usual contact for them ran out and I’m sure I’m going to get orders from the seamstress for more pearl and rose-petal necklaces.”

The people of Busan had been collectively fascinated by the pretty young lady who set up shop in their market one day, your trade consisting of the most beautiful flowers laid over pieces of precious stones and jewellery. They flocked to your shop in awe, your wares sometimes running out before the day passed- how did your flowers not wilt for weeks? How did your jewellery never lose their shine? Little did they know you set a time-slowing spell on your pieces, slowing down the flowers’ wilt and the jewellery’s dulling to a great degree.

Jeongin sighed loudly, rolling his eyes despite the smile on his face. “Whatever. Meet me by the beach at dawn in 4 days.” Your eyes brightened immediately, a smile stretching out your lips as you slid off your bench to give Jeongin a tight hug, squealing excitedly.

“You’re the best.” you giggled, as Jeongin grimaced at the bodily contact, taking your original place on the bench. “I’m sure you spent your days dealing with me just so you could ask me to get you pearls for free one day.” Jeongin sighed dramatically as he sipped on his orange juice.

“Wait, you knew ?!” You gasped, your hand raising to cover your mouth in mock shock. “I thought I was doing a good job at pretending to be your friend!”

“You clearly weren’t.” Jeongin responded with a straight face, your eyes meeting and stares holding for a split second before you burst into pointless giggles.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you those snacks you like from Daegu the next time you visit.” You grinned at him just as Yeosang dropped by with your order of food, your attention now speared on the dark-haired Fae boy. Jeongin watched in amusement as you explained Jeongin’s agreement to get you pearls for his long-awaited pearl-and-lily circlet, Yeosang’s green eyes lighting up in pure excitement at the prospect. You giggled as Yeosang patted the top of your heads in thanks before wandering back to Hongjoong, prompting you to focus on your food.

Jeongin held your friendship with him at the highest of regards, despite not knowing you for very long. You were fierce yet easy to amuse, soft with your sentiments and so very talented with your hands. Watching you piece together the strangest combinations of metal and flowers into the most beautiful pieces of jewellery would never stop fascinating him- your artistry effortless and so, so charming.

It was almost easy for time to slip by faster with you, your easy banter with him making time pass faster than he’d expect it to.

For once, however, he didn’t really mind it.

Taglist: @aliceu @decembermoonskz @kisskissbanggang @lavenderbexlatte @jl-micasea @cuokka @cotccotc @straykidsownmysoul @illicit-roses @fylithia @stellarmonsterr @soya-zz @popisdead (Dm or drop me an ask to be added or removed!) 

Network tag: @inkidz @kpopscape @districtninewriters​

I’d love to hear what you think of this story! - Elliana.

[hrmdream]

7 Days of Pitch Perfect - Day 1 (Colors)

Hi @beca-mitchell​ . Thanks for this fun idea. Please accept my bulls**t.

Summary: Beca and her appreciation for colors in Pitch Perfect 3. Rating: M (for language) Word count: 989 This is not beta’d. I 100% word vomitted. I’m sorry if it is very very bad. Story beneath the cut.

Years ago, Beca would tell you she never much cared for colors. Her palette was shades of mainly black and blue, though never outright either. Give her those colors, mute them, dim them, mix a dash of grey -remix this color business, if you will- and then you were speaking Beca’s language.

These days, her taste has changed. Her appetite for colors has grown. Beca will taste the fucking rainbow, because no longer are vibrant, warm, heavily saturated colors threatening to blind her by merely crossing her field of vision. In fact, they captivate her. They draw Beca in. Depending on their form, they can pull an easy smile or cause her heart to pound. Stutter. Stop.

And on the beautiful southern coast of France, under the heat of a sun sitting high in the sky without a single cloud for company, the colors of the rainbow had never looked as stunning as they do here.

Red. 

Beca believes red has never looked so good. She has never seen Chloe’s hair shine so brightly. 

New York City’s color scheme is a drab backdrop, allowing Chloe and her eye-catching hair to undeniably be a focus, but here, even among the lively colors painting the Cote D’azur, Chloe’s hair color is a rarity amongst a landscape filled with natural beauty. 

If Beca were an artist, she would draw a head of ginger hair easily discernible in a crowded antique street market. She would color red curls gently blowing beside the endless expanse of a clear blue shoreline. She would highlight fiery long waves accented by rays of a warm sun. 

(She would also make sure to paint cherry lips popping against sun-kissed and freckled skin.)

Orange. 

Beca swears everything in Nice, France naturally glows. The streets, the people, the buildings. Everything is a happy byproduct of large volumes of soaked sun, because no matter the time of day, she is sure to find something tinted with a hue of orange. A hue of liveliness.

Right now it happens to be a post-explosion ship, smokey and orange, glowing before a dark sky. But there is also Chloe. Huddled in a wool blanket, her face delicately subdued, Beca also sees Chloe glow. Beca has seen Chloe before, but right now there is an aura of orange radiating around her.

Beca marks the image in her mind. Chloe -alive, breathing, calm- glows orange.

Yellow.

Beca feels like DJ Khaled’s team took debuting her as a new star a little too literally. 

The jacket they gave her is more than yellow. It is gold. It shines, and it sparkles. And the decorative threading of the skirt hugging her waist is just as golden, shining and sparkling. 

Beca is certain if someone vaulted her out of a cannon, she could easily be mistaken for a shooting star, because really… there is so much yellow. So much gold.

With the spotlight shining down on her as she stands in the middle of the stage, Beca briefly wonders if yellow is even her color, but then Chloe is smiling up at her, and Beca smiles back, and damn the swelling in her chest is reminding her of another time. 

Another time when Beca sits on a stage. 

Another time when Chloe smiles enthrallingly.

Another time when yellow is a part of her performance.

And huh. Beca guesses yellow makes sense. Especially when the way Chloe is looking at her now makes her feel like gold.

Green.

Green is not really a color that pops on Beca’s radar. 

Even if most of the natural world is green, Beca is something of a hermit, mostly staying inside and working in front of a mixing board or laptop, so green is not a color she sees on the regular. 

Outside of Barden and graduation, green really means nothing to her. 

Before right now. 

Because right now, green is all Beca sees. Green is all she feels. 

Chloe is kissing Chicago, and damn Beca wishes she did not need to experience this moment to understand why the jealousy monster is green. 

She is swirling with envy and a little bit of anger, because really? Chicago is kissing a girl like Chloe and that’s all he can manage? 

Beca wants to throw down. She feels almost hulk-ish. If this were a comic book, the next few frames would show you Beca’s skin turning green and her clothes beginning to shred. She is fueled by envy. She is channeling green-monster friends. 

Maybe that’s why her feet are suddenly striding forward.

Blue.

Blue is the last thing Beca sees. Right before she closes her eyes, right before lips come crashing into hers, Beca is once more captured by bright, brilliant blue. 

It is Beca’s favorite color. Beca’s favorite shade.’

Almost all of Beca’s favorite memories feature this specific blue. And this moment is no exception - surely going to top the list - because this blue is Chloe blue.

It is a blue that encourages Beca to smile, sends her off to dream, steals her breath away,  and makes her feel seen. 

No other blue makes Beca feel enamored quite like this blue.

This blue is one of a kind.

This blue is unique.

This blue, Beca hopes, will be hers to keep.

(Based on the way Chloe is trying to lift Beca’s leg up to wrap around her waist, Beca thinks Chloe might just let her.)

Indigo...

To be honest, Beca has no idea how to differentiate indigo and violet. Also, she’s a little too preoccupied to care. 

If you must know though, the glimpses she caught of the carpet in the hotel hallway leading up to her hotel room might have some indigo. Beca’s not entirely sure. 

And the painting of the flower right above her bed could be violet, but she’ll get back to you tomorrow. 

Not like she owes you an explanation, but Beca has a lot of Chloe to explore, and she is going to be making use of more than just her sense of sight to do it.

[jokertrap-ran]

(未定事件簿) EVENT!「致斯卡提的情诗」 [Tears of Themis] EVENT: A Love Poem to SKADI Translation (陆景和偶遇 : Chance Encounters with Lu Jinghe)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mobile Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *The tracking tag for ALL Event Stories will go under: #Tears of an Event

理想城堡 Castle of Ideals

Location: Beach of the Night

MC: Lu Jinghe? Here to build a sandcastle?

MC: I’ve never built one on a beach with black sand before!

Lu Jinghe: Okay then, what kind of castle do you want to build?

Lu Jinghe: How about the kind with big French windows and the really tall chimneys, just like something right out of a fairytale?

Lu Jinghe: I seem to recall you saying that you really liked that sort of castle.

MC: I do like it a great lot; but you can literally just see how hard it is to build one like that…

Lu Jinghe: Don’t fret the small things; you have me, don’t you?

Lu Jinghe: I guarantee you that I’ll definitely be able to recreate the castle of your ideals!

☆⋅⋆…⋅───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────⋅…⋆⋅☆

海鸟 Seabird

Location: Beach of the Night

MC: I haven’t really noticed it before, but there are really a lot of seabirds down here.

MC: And they seem to be pretty docile around people, despite how they’re supposed to be wild animals.

Lu Jinghe: How about you try patting one of their heads? I think it should prove to be a rather interesting sight.

MC: I’ll only get pecked by them if I do something as rash as that.

Lu Jinghe: What are you so afraid of? I can teach you the right way to do it.

MC: Really?

Lu Jinghe: Of course! When have I ever lied to you?

Lu Jinghe: Then without further ado, let me teach you the right way to do it, lawyer sis!

☆⋅⋆…⋅───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────⋅…⋆⋅☆

海妖的歌声 Siren's Song

Location: Sattifoss

Lu Jinghe: (Y/n)? What are you doing standing down there in a stupor?

MC: I’m trying to see if I can hear a Siren’s Song.

Lu Jinghe: A Siren’s Song? You actually want to hear one?

MC: Can’t I? I’ve been hearing everyone around me talking about it...

Lu Jinghe: So you’ve really not heard of that rumor before?

MC: What rumor?

Lu Jinghe: Sattifoss is said to be a corner forgotten by the Elves; buried here in the high mountains, are the remains of a Siren.

Lu Jinghe: Two days ago, someone claimed that he and his companion heard a Siren singing; his companion consequently disappeared after.

MC: W-What? ...He disappeared!?

MC: I didn’t- I didn’t hear anything at all! I’ll be leaving first!!

Lu Jinghe: There’s nothing to be so panicky about; it’s fine, I say.

MC: How can it be fine!? ...What if I disappear?

Lu Jinghe: Don’t you still have me? I’m with you.

MC: With me? You’re going to be disappearing with me?

Lu Jinghe: Yeah. I’ll always be with you, even if it warrants me disappearing off the face of this very earth itself.

Lu Jinghe: I’m definitely not letting go of that hand of yours.

☆⋅⋆…⋅───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────⋅…⋆⋅☆

时间尽头 The End of Time

Location: Sattifoss

MC: Hey, Lu Jinghe? I was just searching up some information when I came across something interesting; guess what?

Lu Jinghe: Let me see… Sattifoss was previously filmed in a movie, perhaps…?

Lu Jinghe: And was dubbed the place “closest to the End of Time” subsequently?

MC: Geh, you knew!? And here I thought that I could surprise you with my knowledge...

Lu Jinghe: You’ve really got to remember who I am.

Lu Jinghe: Okay, it’s my turn now since you’ve asked me a question.

Lu Jinghe: Are you aware that there’s another legend about this “End of Time” thing?

MC: What is it?

Lu Jinghe: If two people can reach the “End of Time” together, then they’ll never be separated, forever and ever more.

Lu Jinghe: Are you...

Lu Jinghe: Are you willing to reach the End of Time with me?

☆⋅⋆…⋅───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────⋅…⋆⋅☆

石碑上的秘密 Secrets on the Stone Tablets

Location: Town of Elves

MC: I noticed that there are a lot of Stone Tablets in this place...

MC: And the characters engraved onto them are very weird, like very unique symbols.

Lu Jinghe: Some of this look man-made; and some of them look like they’re remnants of the past that has been passed down.

Lu Jinghe: And as for the content on it… The local legends say that they’re the legacy that the Elves had left behind.

MC: ...If they’re really what the Elves had left behind, then what do these writings mean?

Lu Jinghe: Wanna know?

MC: You mean… You know of a way to decipher this?

Lu Jinghe: But of course! Not to mention that this is a wish of yours.

Lu Jinghe: I’ll make everything you wish for a reality, so long as it’s something you want.

☆⋅⋆…⋅───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────⋅…⋆⋅☆

向精灵献花 Offering Flowers to the Elves

Location: Town of Elves

MC: Why are the kids putting flowers in front of the Elves' Huts?

Lu Jinghe: That's just some sort of game that the local kids often play; just think of it as how some of us hang stockings by our beds during Christmas.

Lu Jinghe: They say that you’ll get something you really, really want in return if the Elves accept your flowers.

MC: Why, aren’t you familiar with it; it can’t be that you did it yourself before?

Lu Jinghe: Like heck I would.

Lu Jinghe: The reason why you’d even offer flowers up to the Elves, is because the thing you wanted most never came to be; but it’s different for me.

Lu Jinghe: What I want most, has already appeared before me.

☆⋅⋆…⋅───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────⋅…⋆⋅☆

来自拍吧 Let's take a Selfie

Location: Sagya Fjyord

Lu Jinghe: We meet again, lawyer sis.

MC: Oh, it’s you.

Lu Jinghe: You’re holding onto a selfie stick… Are you trying to take a photo with this scenery as a backdrop?

MC: Yeah, but I’ve not been getting any good results.

MC: Could I bother you to take a photo of me together with the waterfall?

Lu Jinghe: ...How boring it is for you to just be taking a photo alone with a waterfall; how about we take one in front of it together?

MC: But I just-

Lu Jinghe: Don’t worry! My selfie-taking skills are just as good as my painting skills; they’re excellent!

Lu Jinghe: You just have to listen to my que and flash your best smile.

Lu Jinghe: It’ll definitely get way better results than the photo you just tried taking.

Lu Jinghe: Why are you still standing over there in such a daze? Hurry and come over here. I'll count to 3 before taking the pic.

Lu Jinghe: 1— 2— 3—!

☆⋅⋆…⋅───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────⋅…⋆⋅☆

释放压力 Relieving Stress

Location: Sagya Fjyord

MC: Is there something in the bushes in front of us?

Lu Jinghe: Looks like an Arctic Fox. I recall there being many animals like this down at Sagya Fjyord.

MC: Come to think of it now, we did see a lot of wild animals along our way here.

MC: This place feels like a Nature Reserve… So, it must be easy and comfortable living down here...

Lu Jinghe: From the sound of it, have you been very stressed out lately?

MC: Just a little...

Lu Jinghe: Mind sharing with me about it? Don’t go bottling it up like that.

Lu Jinghe: You can always share anything with me, whatever it may be.

☆⋅⋆…⋅───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────⋅…⋆⋅☆

流星雨 Meteor Shower

Location: Vikya City

Lu Jinghe: (Y/n)? What fate we have to be meeting each other again.

MC: Are you here to see the Meteor Shower too?

Lu Jinghe: Mmhm. I was originally going to invite you, but somehow, I had a gut feeling that I’d be running into you for one reason or another.

Lu Jinghe: Looks like my gut’s pretty accurate.

MC: I-Is that so...

Lu Jinghe: Okay, never mind. I’ll stop teasing you now; how’s the Meteor Shower? Beautiful?

MC: Yeah. It’s especially so, with such a vast expanse of nature as the background.

MC: I feel like such beauty cannot be completely captured and preserved, even if we were to use the best SLR Camera.

Lu Jinghe: How about I paint a copy of it for you then? 

MC: There's no need for you to do that… It'll be way too troublesome for you if I made you do that.

Lu Jinghe: Painting for your sake's never too much trouble.

Lu Jinghe: Just look forward to it.

☆⋅⋆…⋅───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────⋅…⋆⋅☆

落日约定 Sunset Dates

Location: Vikya City

MC: The sun's about to set… And night is about to fall in Vikya City...

MC: I don't know if it's just me, but I can't help feeling as if the atmosphere of the suburbs are a tad different from being in the City itself.

Lu Jinghe: Then what do you think of Vikya City now? Is it pretty?

MC: Yeah, very pretty! It's really worth the trip here!

Lu Jinghe: If that's so, then how about watching the sunset with me?

Lu Jinghe: Not just on Skadi Island, but every other day, in every other place; together with me, always. How does that sound?

☆⋅⋆…⋅───── ⋆⋅A Love Poem to SKADI⋅⋆ ────⋅…⋆⋅☆

[thatlongspringnight]

As Sweet as Your Joy (Jimin/Reader)

⏤ Pairing: Siren!Jimin/Reader

⏤ Genre: Angst, some fluff, fantasy, mythology

⏤ Word Count: Around 3.7k

⏤ Warnings: Suicide, discussion of blood, mentions of drowning, death, angst, Jimin is a siren and sirens kill people. Death is discussed and sometimes in a very cavalier way.

Rating: Mature themes, but not 18 +

Summary: You’ve been alive long enough to know what you want, and he can see it in your eyes from the moment you meet. Still, he refuses to give it to you.

Italics is flashback.

Thank you @wwilloww for beta-ing, and being a supportive Queen, @jamaiskook same to you, my confidence needs you both to function.

Tagging: @ezralia-writes @ladyartemesia @dreamystuffers​

They say dangerous things lurk in those waters. In the darkest depths just off the reef, out by the light house. A place only fools like you dare to venture.

Dangerous, but beautiful things. Things with skin so thin you can see the odd blue-green of their veins and sugar-spun smiles that reveal teeth that are just a little too sharp.

Dangerous things with luminous, haunting faces and voices that tune to the melody of your soul, pulling you closer and closer to madness, that will promise you your heart’s desire, calling you further, further away from shore, till your toes don’t touch the bottom and you can no longer see land.

Dangerous things that steal your breath from your mouth and leave you washed up on shore days later, skin mottled with bruises like flowers. A lilac, lavender, deep tyrian warning to anyone who sees, a warning...don’t come too close, don’t be tempted as these fools were.

But unfortunately, you yourself have never been good at heeding warnings. You would wade waist deep into trouble if it meant brushing your hand against the shining scales just below, captivated by the swirling rainbows just beyond your grasp. Nary a storm or murky water could stop you, venturing out a little further each day, undeterred by the steady stream of bodies that appeared on shore.

Some would say you had no sense of self preservation. A foolish little thing, others would echo in the town, tutting their tongues and shaking their heads. A girl without parents to guide her or husband for counsel.

It was a surprise to everyone you weren’t dead already.

Still, the day came that you pulled yourself onto a rock several meters from the shore, an ugly jutted pillar that smoothed out on the side facing the water, ignoring the ache in your bones as you stood to full height -

And you waited.

Waited for the deadly creature who could grant you your heart’s desire. Longing for just a moment, wanting to see his face as you had that one night.

The choppy water did nothing to stop you, reaching your waist as you dove in. The sea was a clear green, an unnatural emerald that you could see through, that you could get lost in, and getting lost was just what you wanted to do.  The setting sun’s reflection was lost on you as you swam further from shore, deeper in. The darkness grew with every yard you conquered.  

It wasn’t that you wanted to die, it was just that on that day you had nothing to live for. The persistent, unnatural pound of the heart in your chest, and the curiosity for the unknown - it was enough.

Your gasping breath was muffled as you submerged your head again, swimming further into the depths till your lungs cried out.Then, like a flash, something caught your eye, a flittering of scales, pearlescent rainbow. You turned your head sharply, hand brushing the bottom of the murky depth.

And meeting the smoothness of bone.

Your gaze lingered, a sort of horror in your bones, contorting your features into fear as you realized what you had stumbled upon, the settling silt revealing a field of skeletons. A siren’s graveyard. Clothes decaying, but bright gold still shining, precious jewels capturing what was left of the light.

And just to your left, the glittering creature.

A strong hand gripped your wrist as you stupidly gasped, sending water pouring into your throat, a choked sound following.

The creature tugged you to his chest, lavender eyes capturing yours, flaxen hair a shade of sickening green underwater.

He smiled, and all you could remember were his too-sharp teeth

______________________________________________________________________

“I know you’re here!” You crowed, no sound but the waves against the rock responding. It was sunset. The same time you had seen the creature that first time. “Why won’t you come out?”

You groaned, glad that the sun was no longer beating down on you, but frustrated nonetheless. “Please?”

“Pretty birds like you shouldn’t beg.” A melodic voice cut through, sending you almost teetering off the rock. “Nor should they try to tempt fate” You stared at him, those beautiful blue eyes of his, eyes that seemed to fade and shift to purple with the light, drawing you in. Unconsciously you leaned closer to the water, closer to him, perching precariously on the edge.

He was beautiful now, in a different way from before, his blonde hair hanging about his shoulders, muscles glistening with seawater.

He flicked his tail, the bottom fin breaching the water, revealing his rainbow scales dancing in the light. You stared as though in a trance, the world slowing down as you saw yourself reflected in his eyes. Feeling lightheaded you shut your eyes, the feeling ending as you met the darkness of your lids.

“Closing your eyes won’t hide you from me.” You heard the shift of the water, felt the coldness of his skin against yours as he brought his hands to your face. “You came out here to die, didn’t you?”

“N-No.” You tried to pull away, but he was strong, his nails sharp against your face. “No I don’t want to die.” He chuckled, a low sound that contrasted dreadfully with his sweet face.

“My dear, if that is really the case, why all but throw yourself at me, here to kill you.”

“Because you won’t kill me.” Your voice was a whisper, lost on the salty breeze. He tensed, the truth of your words catching him off guard.

“I won’t kill you.” The siren affirmed, his touch weakening till it was nothing but a gentle caress. “But I won’t give you what you want either. No, my beautiful bird, you won’t get that from me.”

______________________________________________________________________

His name was Jimin.

Jimin liked shiny things, baubles, bracelets, trinkets. He especially liked the silver necklace you always wore, trailing down reveal a locket set with a single shining sapphire. He liked flowers, and he liked to braid those flowers into your hair, soft pinks to the darkest shades of blood. His nimble fingers wove them thickly into your hair, till the heady scent made you lightheaded.

“You are as bright as a Starling.” He said, his voice soft and sweet against your skin. “A beautiful thing. A fairy, even.”

“You lie.” You mumbled, the blush on your cheeks hidden by the flush placed there by the hot sun. “Only one of us is that beautiful.”  You reached over, tucking the last rose into his own hair. “And it’s you.”

“You only feel that way because you refuse to see me as I am.” His tone turned dark, eyes shining unnaturally in the sun. “For what I am really.”

“Jimin-“

“A monster. A monster who kills you a little more each time I touch you.” His fingers squeezed yours in affection, in pain. “I won’t give you what you want. You have to know.”

“You don’t know what I want.” You challenge, the proud tilt of your features almost makes him smile...almost.

“I do know, I’ve known since the moment you sought me out. Day after day, your wish has always been there.”

“Please, don’t say it.” You begged him, tears brimming in your eyes. “Don’t break this spell just yet.”

“This has to stop.”

___________________________________________________________________

“Do you know how sirens are born?” He had asked you one day, before you knew his name. You had shaken your head, unsure of the exact mythology behind his existence, only really knowing that he was there and that somewhere in the great expanse of the oceans there were more like him.

“How are creatures like you created?”

“We are born in death. Unjustly killed in the very waters we haunt. Doomed to drag others to their deaths as revenge against the humanity that wronged us.” He was perched on the edge of the rock, his chest exposed down to his waist, where his scales just began to peek out from the water.

“Who wronged you, then?” Your first question, perhaps callous in the face of the agony in his tone. Yet, your hands swiped the skin of his cheeks, attempting to sooth his ills, marveling at the coolness of his skin even in high summer. “Why do you hunt these waters, siren?”

“A friend. With hair as red as blood and eyes I learned to trust. Trust didn’t come easy to us, in our line of work.”

“What sort of work?”

“Oh, my little starling. I was a pirate.” Though his eyes were dark, his smile was sweet and soft, masking those teeth that haunted your dark dreams. “A savage of the seas, but that was many years ago, long before now.”

“You don’t look savage.”

“Trust nothing that you see.” He sighed, a sound so sad your heart broke for him all over. “Trust nothing of my face. I am still just as savage as I was then. Only a little more refined.”

“Refined?”

“See, little bird, you don’t even realize that with every moment that you let me touch you, I’m killing you.” His breath was in your ear, his face at the crook of your neck. You felt them, the teeth, sharp and jagged, lingering just above your pulse point. Your breath hitched, terror bleeding into your veins. He wouldn’t kill you, would he?

“The fear is delicious.” He murmured, tongue laving over your skin. “I can smell it in your blood.”

“P-Please-“

“Have you come to your senses about me? Do you see what I can do?” His smooth voice was harsh now, and you wanted to flinch.

“I see that you can do many things, but you still…won’t kill me.” He tensed at your words, and you could feel the tremor that traveled up his body.

“Why did you die, siren?”

“Jimin.” He breathed, eyes glassy. “My name is Jimin.”

“Okay. Jimin.” You tried your best to keep your voice a soothing, dulcet tone.

“I died because of love.”

“Love?” Quiet as a mouse you whispered the word back to him.

“Love for the man who killed me.” The chasm between you in that moment seemed insurmountable, and only a step, all at once.

“You loved him?” You prompted, uncomfortable in the silence.

“Loved him. Some would say, madly. I killed for him. I bathed in blood to satiate his desires. I grew honed like a knife to please him. Then, when power was just in our grasp, he decided that only his grasp was worthy.” You followed every word, eyes wide with sadness. “Love means nothing. That’s what he said when he plunged a sword in my belly.”

“Jimin…”

“I took my final breath as a man drifting to the bottom of the sea floor, eyes wide open, choking on seawater and blood, the sting of betrayal burned into my heart.”

“And?” You gripped at his hands, entwining your fingers with his. This- This feeling in your stomach never seemed to fade when you were with him. Even if you knew he could kill you.

Even if you hoped he would.

“And I awoke at the bottom of the sea floor, hungry for the souls of the damned who should lurk in those waters.” Damned like you? Still you smiled at his seriousness, shaking your head as you reached over, hand finding his - rewarded when he squeezed your fingers.

“And without any legs.” You couldn’t stop the laughter in your throat, even as his eyes widened, an abashed look on his face. Till he too was laughing, a sound as clear and beautiful as bells that sent a rush of feelings into your chest.

___________________________________________________________________

One afternoon, about a month after he told you that he wouldn’t see you again, he breaks his promise. Or perhaps you forced his hand.

You couldn’t lie to yourself now, the trek to the rock made your lungs ache like it hadn’t before. It took you a moment to catch your breath, your chest burning as coughs wracked your body.

There were some truths better left unspoken. Not by you, not by the people in your small little town who covered their mouths with kerchiefs as you walked by, not even by the gentle sea breezes that whispered secrets into your ears and lulled you to sleep at night.

This was one of them.

You settled yourself on the warm rock, wishing that it could remain summer here forever. Winter brought icy winds that curled up inside of you and wouldn’t leave. With winter came chopping firewood with chapped hands and gasping breaths, praying that you made it home.

With winter came water that was too cold for you to touch, choppy and biting.

You heard a familiar splash, a smile forming on your face.  You knew he would come today. Knew that he was like you, unable to stay away.

Because he knew too, with winter you wouldn’t see him again.

“Starling.” His smile was free of the annoyance of before, a soft look of melancholy on his features. “You don’t look well.”

“Ah, well, it’s just the heat.” You smiled back, patting the hard surface next to you. “Come sit.”

He didn’t, choosing instead to rest his head on the warm stone, his lower body hidden in the water. You frowned, leaning over till your stomach was resting on the rock, your nose almost touching his.  “Don’t be difficult.”

“Oh, my darling one.” Those lilac eyes, tender and solemn, pulled you in so easily, your heart rate rising, fingers clenching against the rough stone. You could see galaxies in his eyes, swirling shades of blue fading into purple. Unnatural pools that tugged you closer to the edge… to the end. Looking into them left you feeling breathless, dazed...liable to succumb to madness every time you saw them.

You felt your breath quickening, an unnatural sound leaving your lips as his eyes widened, his hands coming up to clutch your shoulders. “Not now.” There was an edge to his voice as he clutched you, his nails digging into your skin painfully, reminding you where you were. “Don’t succumb like this.”

‘Why won’t you let me?” You demanded, voice hoarse. “Please, just let me.” A tear slipped down your cheek and you felt his tongue drag a rough trail up your skin.

“Your despair doesn’t taste as sweet as your joy.”

__________________________________________________________________

You loved him. The easy confession did not startle you, didn’t frighten you. It was like waking up after a long sleep, feeling refreshed and new.

Of course, you also knew there was no future for the two of you.

No future for you at all.

Still, you made the trip, until summer began to fade again and autumn took its place.

Until the rattle in your throat grew too hard to ignore.

“There was one like you before.” He confessed one day, hand resting in yours, letting you nestle your tired body against his chest. It was daringly intimate, shocking in its kindness. “A man, hardworking and diligent.”

“Why like me?”

“He wanted me to take his burdens from him.” Jimin curled a piece of your hair around his finger, humming lowly. “Day after day he would come out to me, and day after day, I refused.”

“What burdens did he have?” You were sleepy, barely awake, there was a chill in the air, and it made your bones ache.

“He lost his wife and child, sickness had worked its way through your tiny little village, and left him with nothing.”

“Why didn’t he take his own life?”

“Why don’t you take yours?”

“I don’t- I don’t want to die.” You murmur softly, burying your face into his chest.

“Neither did he.”

“But he did die?”

“All mortals die.” The implication that he was not in that category was not lost on you.

“Did you kill him?”

“He gave me no other choice.”

“And if I gave you no other choice?”

“Starling, killing you would be the end of me.” You didn’t dare ask why.

______________________________________________________________________

The graveyard that lurked just below your feet had stopped frightening you. You got braver each day, bolder with him, more brazen.

It was hard to ignore how seeing his soft smile as you stared down at him from your perch made you feel.

Perhaps also you had started coming to terms with the truth.

The truth he had known from the moment he had seen you, months earlier, first standing on the beach, staring for hours at the vast expanse before you. The truth you knew he had felt as you caught sight of those luminous scales just below the surface.

That is why you kept going, to the point that you spent your afternoons there more often than at home.

Not that you had anyone at home to wait for you.

You never asked him about it though, about the skeletons, the precious jewels. They felt detached from his beautiful face. Even at his most sullen, they seemed too dirty to be any fault of his.

Even if you knew that wasn’t true.

____________________________________________________________________

People, often enough, don’t throw themselves off lighthouses, you mused, the winter wind beating at your skin. But, people often enough weren’t you.

Standing at the top of the ancient building, you glanced out at the angry waters below.

It felt like it had taken you hours to climb the steps, and just as long to hoist yourself onto the edge, teetering back and forth like a scarf caught on a windy day.

You didn’t want to die.

You used to be afraid of heights. Memories of clutching at your mother’s skirts every time you had to walk across the tall, swaying bridge that took you to the mainland swirled in your head.

It wasn’t so bad now.

You couldn’t swim, your body wouldn’t be able to take the water, the cold would seep into your bones too quickly, and surely, you’d drown before you ever even reached the rock.

But this, this would negate that altogether. You could effortlessly fall, let the icy water envelope you, and know he would come to you, like he always had.

And even if he didn’t, the prospect of seeing him again was enough to make you take that breath, letting the wind sway you naturally, closing your eyes as you leaped —

____________________________________________________________________

“I’ll never be able to live again if I have to see you die. If I have to be the one to do it.” Jimin’s voice was a harsh, tear soaked whisper, and you could only smile, reaching up to brush his cheek lovingly.

“Then die with me.” You coaxed, the ultimate act of cruelty. You were selfish, you knew, if you had to die, and you were going to die, you wanted to keep him with you. “Neither of us has to be alone anymore.”

“Would that make you happy?”

“I wanted to see you one last time, and I did. So I’m already happy.”

“What a darling little bird you are.” His voice is so distraught, for a moment you let yourself feel bad for what you’ve set in motion. Just for a moment.

“Don’t you trust me?” You coughed. “I trust you.”

“Don’t say it.” He was begging. You kept the smile on your face.

“Don’t worry, my dearest, I won’t say it.” You didn’t say it. Didn’t say it even if it burned in the back of your throat.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

There was black along your vision, and one last thing you needed to do. You weakly held on to him, clinging like you so wanted to cling to life. You pressed your lips to his, sealing your fate, embracing the swirl of warmth that fell around you, as your hands went lax, falling away limply from his form, you knew that you had all but thrust the sword of fate into his belly this time.

Maybe you were sorry he trusted you.

_____________________________________________________________________

Growing up, you heard the myths, tales woven into your childhood of the danger of sirens. Beautiful creatures that lured the unsuspecting to their deaths with the promise of their hearts desire.

Heart’s desire…

You rested on the rock, the height of summer beating down on you.

Was this a memory?

You took a breath, feeling no ache, no pain. A soft bark of laughter leaving your throat.

Two summers ago maybe? Back when you were still healthy. Back when-

“My little bird, my Starling.” A soothing, peaceful voice broke your thoughts. He was smiling like the sunshine itself, beautiful and clear.

“My love!” You called back, reaching out to him, letting him tug you into the warm water.

Love? Your thoughts became fuzzy, trailing off as the scene progressed.

His hot mouth on yours, the feeling of his taut skin, his sharp teeth. His whispered sweet nothings.

“Come with me.” You grinned against his mouth. “Lets go to shore.”

“I love you.” He pulled you closer, farther away from the life you knew.

“I love you too, I”-

_____________________________________________________________________

The girl was mad. It’s all the village whispers about.

Mad enough to drag her dying body to the top of a lighthouse. Mad enough to jump into the sea in midwinter.

When they finally find her, a week later, her body lying still in a small cove almost a mile from where she jumped, there is more to talk about.

She looks peaceful. More so than most can ever remember seeing her.

How content she rests! With her arms folded at her chest. Her clothing perfectly draped. Her skin so cold it seems almost like porcelain.

The men who find her, spend weeks in the church afterwards, praying to whatever spirits they are worried they angered when they disturbed her. Praying for absolution, when there is no real forgiveness to be sought.

But there is one thing no one talks about.

The one thing no one even dares to whisper about is the single rainbow scale that she clutches to her chest, her fingers frozen in death around it for eternity.

[gothsic]

        i sentence you to be exposed before your peers...

                                                        -- TEAR DOWN THE WALL!

so... once again, i’m floored. i mean, seriously floored.

i could probably say my usual nonsense, which is that i’m amazed, i’m flattered, and i’m even speechless at the amount of love, patience, and just downright kindness i have received since day one. tomorrow marks a month since this blog was opened, and i have to say that it has been one of the best months i have ever had in the tumblr rpc in all my years of rping.

that’s saying quite a lot!

i have to reiterate that i was incredibly worried about how jonathan was going to be received here. but the exact opposite has been true - if anything, you have all welcomed him with open arms, and been incredibly amazing rp partners in every sense of the word. i hope i return the attention you’ve given me thricefold. it’s true that i’m incredibly slow, keep piling on those ask memes and starters, but the real reason is because i just want to interact with you all in some capacity. i highly encourage those of you that have yet to do anything with me to send me something, and i can promise you i will get to it! 

but what does any of that have to do with an appreciation post? well, it really is just me rambling about how incredibly honored i am that you all have stayed here through thick and thin despite my slowness. you are all the real mvps! in fact, i wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for all of you wanting to do things with me. really. you have no idea how much of an honor this is, especially considering that this is for an original character rather than a canon one. i just... wow! there i go again, failing to be eloquent!

the graphic above was thrown together tonight because i wanted to get this out this past weekend, but i figured the closer to my one month anniversary the better. that would have been october 1st, so sadly it’s a bit late. however, screw it! let’s throw two special occasions into one! i figured i would call it something different this time, as this is a bigger milestone than before.

so now that part one of this post is finished... let’s get to the good stuff. the follow forever list ( which i personally prefer calling it! ). read under the cut!

THE STARS WHO LIGHT THE PATH FORWARD:

the first up on this list are personal thank-yous to very special people who have made this experience so incredible. all of you have, but these are people i have known for several years, people i have grown close to quickly, or just people i have a lot of things to say to. i’ll probably even say these things to you in private in more expansive detail.

here are my appreciative ( albeit abridged ) comments to the following people:

@pistolbitten: tycho, you’re one of my bestest friends on this entire hellsite and even offline. the fact we haven’t met yet irl is fucking criminal - i hope that in the near future we can, though that might be kind of bad because i think the entire universe would just cease to exist if that happened. but we gotta try, right?? ANYWAY more importantly i want to emphasize that you are doing such a tremendous job with nack. i’m seriously impressed, and i want you to know that the work you’re putting into him is seriously amazing. keep it up because it’s clear to me you’re having a lot of fun. you really deserve it after everything that you’ve gone through in the past few years. you’re my little brother and it’s gonna stay that way! you know how i feel about you, but if you ever feel down, i will remind you again and again. you’re destined for great things, and you’re incredibly strong. but sometimes, it’s okay to feel a little weak. it’s human. you’re human.

@destructiveglitch: farida, i can’t emphasize how glad i am that we reconnected. i want you to know that i really admire the work you’ve put into making cadillac the amazing character that he is. you are seriously an inspiration to this community not only with the positivity you exude, but with the humor you bring to the table and the way you accept people with open arms. i strive to be more like you, and i am so proud to see how far you’ve come since we met a few years ago on this hellsite. you are seriously amazing, and so is cadillac - i cannot wait to see you chase your dreams even further; you’re an inspiration!

@daiteitako + all your other blogs: don i’m really glad we reconnected after i vanished kind of suddenly - again, i apologize for that. however, i really cannot wait to do stuff properly with you, but the most important thing i really want to say here is that a.) you’re incredibly kind, b.) you’re HILARIOUS and c.) your graphics are beautiful. also, i should mention that the dedication you’ve put into making all your muses your own is just stellar. i love it and i cannot wait to see more. i always appreciate our ooc chats and i’m so glad that i get to see your antics on the dash whenever your url pops up!

@dadadaemons: che... che. what can i say. when i came back to the rpc after a couple years of being gone, one of the things i really missed was having someone i could really connect with. honestly? it’s rare that it happens. but with you, it felt pretty instantaneous. i feel really glad to have met you - i feel that we can just shoot the shit whenever, and our muses have quite the relationship. i adore it, and i really feel comfortable talking with you - i hope that its the same for you. basically what i really want to say is that i feel incredibly lucky to have come across your blog and gotten the chance to talk to you, and eventually talk more ooc, i just... honestly? your writing is incredible, a mixture between tragic and comic, and i really adore it. it stands out. it’s you, and it’s unique. this is a little rambly, but i am really amazed at what you’ve been doing with your muses ( especially cherry ) and i cannot wait to see your work in a visual novel-type game someday. with your art skills? it’s bound to happen. you’ve got me to cheer you on!

@czhng: ángel... sends you the cat meme for the 10292373747th time ( you know the one ). just kidding! i feel like in the past week or two, we’ve grown pretty close. our ship has really blossomed into something fascinating and it’s really funny because the lovely people here on tumblr have absolutely no idea what they’re in store for. but better yet, i’m really glad i got a chance to meet you - i couldn’t have imagined how much fun we would be having together! i love sending memes back and forth, and also just talking about our characters, or hearing what you were up to or how you’re doing. while these may be simple things, they mean the absolute world to me. in short, i’m so grateful that i got to meet you, and i hope we can keep being even better friends into the future!

@cardinalrot: burns! you were one of the first people i think i formally interacted with on this blog, and while we briefly knew each other on my ramona flowers blog, i recently started talking to you more in depth ooc and honestly? you’ve made my time here so much better - you’re funny, you’re getting me into a band i barely knew about until i found your blog, and i just adore what’s going on in our group chat. i can’t wait to get to know you better, and better yet, see what ridiculous things our muses get up to as things keep rolling. you’re a lot of fun to be around and listen to, and i love hearing your ideas. honestly? you’re just a bright light on the hell that is tumblr!

@citialiin: basil! what a shock to find out we actually knew each other back in 2015! that was definitely a surprise. but above all, what can i say other than i’m truly amazed by a lot of things that have happened - that ziggy and jo have the relationship they do, that there’s some real stakes involved, and above all things, that your art is truly wonderful! plus, your writing is so wonderful to read - i feel that you really capture whomever it is that you’re writing, and what i love most about you really is that you’re incredibly honest about who you are, and your art manages to reflect that incredibly well. i wish you the best in your future endeavors, and i cannot wait to roleplay with you more! also, of course, chat ooc with you and get to know you better. plus? you, burns and i are truly a cursed trio - it’s great frankly.

@themoralpuppington: the fact that i keep finding you on every blog i make after all these years ( since 2015, can you believe it?? ) is a testament to how much i adore your writing, and just you in general, hayley. i need you on my dash to feel complete, as bizarre as that might sound. your passion for your muses, most of whom are pretty niche, is really a sight to behold. i admire how much time and attention you put into crafting them to be the best they can be, and your enthusiasm and positivity is also a sight to behold. i still remember the thread we had on my old him blog between him and dot, and that was probably one of the best threads i ever had with someone to this day - can you believe that? the point i’m trying to make here is that you basically make tumblr a better experience for me, and i’m sure many others - you are an amazing person through and through!

@luckblues: kat what could i possibly say about you that i haven’t already? you were there from the beginning, and on all your blogs we had some form of interaction - usually of the comedic kind. our conversations ooc have also been immensely hilarious to read, and the thing i really enjoy is hearing your thoughts on how your muses would react - not to mention whatever posts you make on your blogs, ooc or ic. i’m very glad i got to meet you, and also interact with you because your writing is just so much fun! you always put so much work into your muses and it is seriously an inspiration. keep up the amazing work, and i hope we can get even closer over time!

@toooldforgermany: hannah! i’m really surprised we found each other again - i remember just recently how we were trying to remember which of your many blogs we interacted on, and when we finally did, things slid into place. it’s true that i don’t really talk as much as i should, but what i do have to say about you is definitely truthful: you’ve really dug into what makes arthur such an interesting character, and i mean it when i say you made me more interested than i already was in we happy few. one of these days, i’d like to watch you play it - the clips you’ve shown me have been really something special - and i can see why you’ve put so much time and effort into getting him as close to the source material as possible. that in it of itself is admirable. what you’re doing is really special, and i can’t wait to see more, both with what you do next, and what our muses do next!

THE STARS I NOTICE IN THE DISTANCE, WHO TOO HAVE LIT THE WAY:

these are people whom i have known for several years, and want to continue to know better. we may have fallen out of touch a few times, but the important thing is that we are reconnected now. all of you listed here are special to me in different ways, and i hope that i can express this properly as i continue to do things on this blog. 

@guiltycharge + your other blogs / @heedingcalls / @puckish-rogue

THE GASLAMPS MADE FROM STARDUST:

now these are individuals with whom i have spoken to a great deal ooc, have had a lot of laughs with, or just in general have made me feel at home on this blog. chances are, we’ve interacted too. you have all made this blog special in a way that nowhere else on this site has made me feel before. i am having the time of my life thanks to you all.

@anammxlech / @dcfctivc + your other blogs / @loverslanetm + @aphroditetms / @psychexch / @tricksterfinale / @soughtcryptid + @horrormaestro / @hismanners / @shotbled / @richatire / @demonshe / @rubinsteind + your other blogs / @crimescupid / @crimsxnidol / @sociialpath / @pennepenned / @lovelypillar / @arizonadirtbag / @jihoney / @macabreatlas + @deathwitness / @innosen / @barbiemov / @charismastatic / @voieur + your other blogs / @flutterid / @maljefe / @spacymuses / @ryusci / @bledthrice / @bellecosebabe / @bestvictim / @bentme / @spectrisbound / @starlyht / @griefkept / @vortship / @necroticlimb + your other blogs / @gothicbite + your other blogs / @thegothfiles / @wretchedgoth / @hisnote / @dethrocuted / @justverdict + your other blogs / @stagekiller / @scarwritten / @plasticlioness / @ecentrici / @prdghtr / @drstmbrg + your other blogs / @espercr / @juvenileterror / @putrifyre / @9livin / @saturnincs / @batzie / @deceitfame / @princeternal / @autoptes / @empaethies / @vodkaraised / @censer / @maestrodarte / @ensular / @elleomet / @smallmoss + @heylincorporated / @eoleolhan / @pseudogaiety / @byerszombie / @toendwar / @rivalrus / @giftblessd / @girlrued / @godmeld / @russianllterature / @consultingsister / @desxderium / @aemiliiu / @infiltier / @yoursmary / @svperposition / @friendsfought / @reapinghook / @blossomingbeelzebug / @levyosn / @slashhers / @promdevil / @fvvckcff / @fuckingvictus / @killfame / @dnbrough / @nailfanged / @hellionrot / @hyacinthsgirl / @panamastayed / @shelcved / @spllcat / @battleridge + many many more ! 

THE HOMES ALONG THE STREET WITH THEIR LIGHTS ON:

the following individuals are those i watch from a distance, have yet to interact with, or admire their writing in some fashion. all of you are a joy to have on the dash ( and be mutuals with ), and i hope that we can one day do something together.

@animalcontrol / @atlantisking / @herbounty / @hxgure / @scaeld / @snowinabottle / @soleiltm / @strxnzo / @cultkiid / @clownin / @clownwork / @corpsemade / @demonwield / @orhabit / @demonicarchitect / @etrefurieuse / @unstabletm / @bulletmailed / @wordseen / @deadlcrd / @dojiryu / @garrotejima / @gothamcartel / @devilsitter / @imparist / @voicehost / @voidvoyeur / @evilwiithin / @thatcertainnight / @azircphcle / @biblicael / @ribmcde / @warwronged / @actorkills / @fourrarri / @fosterskeeper / @vicemirrored / @vmprwtch / @peacefulapostle / @honorborn / @wargod / @wonwars / @waywardsignns / @inorationis / @deathscorned / @ncisepcllution / @lycanlead / @hauntediris / @tommyhtm + your other blogs / @phantomally + your other blogs / @abisnorida / @frstpearson / @nytchld / @agentbeyond / @scouscr / @vplameni / @monikalone / @sheslayyys / @sheflirts / @skllington / @skeptus / @ultraviolentis / @greyheroes / @outlawiism / @doefied / @conseille / @seeksghosts + your other blogs / @forsesti / @blacklistcr / @betterhealing / @bowitched / @bonewitchery / @theednygma / @conseille / @soliswrote / @rebelstwo / @divisus / @diversifiedpersonas / @hisband / @grcndel / @dnawield / @soypeor / @talewoven / @yblchth / @halloweeenies / @coldslayers / @iilvecchio / @discandi / @beelzbvb / @snipare / @brenheir / @johtei / @pastfound / @necrogal / @necrophagic / @neonglowed / @halvtblod / @maskedform / @enkaioni / @deddomun / @knifewields / @kerflooey / @likespooky / @happymediium / @happykcd / @vladdad / @endheir / @curdledmiilk / @firstdraper / @thcfreak / @revengah / @lcstrega / @strlcss / @strigct / @hanahakioni / @mortuiflores / @bozojesus / @madeherchoices / @madburnishdetroit / @apostleled / @wiltpetals / @scmperviren / @rainbowsongs / @powertook / @mortiiicia / @mortuam / @macebre / @pestilencepriest / @huntsaliens / @huntpyre / @dptysns / @theppgs / @thicktville / @citylives / @cadaever / @jcinthedance / @jesteriina / @jehstr / @jenasil / @occultspecialists / @exorsista / @aislinqs / @gwaed / @obsessicn / @confcssed / @enravaged / @morbosi / @alwayscutoff / @personsuited / @edgecutting / @heaimed / @clownlike / @warjournal / @selfbest / @shekore / @senoyer / @nuiweion / @slayscryptids / @footagecaught / @toshapeshift / @eyeswaps / @eyedented / @crysbeckett / @4-6-4-1-9 / @gothsrot / @witchbonds / @vctivus / @realityrot / @realcomedian / @wulventyr / @montanaerobics / @sexwins / @coucheravec / @snapsbeast / @ordinryman / @deathtaught / @edhelgund / @herheal / @heavensdecay / @gumihc / @pestired / @byersmom / @skateshe / @wantlonger / @veiledpeak / @wasben / @apostaet / @girlquaked / @betterthanmorty / @ascotwearing / @witcheking / @yourbloodbelongstome / @omatics / @rcdteeth / @nomither / @prodigil / @prouddov / @obscenesupreme / @roguepiece / @isempath / @babaayaaga / @burglarie / @enruined / @visionsent / @spellfear / @spelltricks / @deadgirldani / @dctorsleep / @dcputyrook / @dcllparted / @huntsighted / @prceteritus / @wildardor / @vigilink / @cupidvvitch / @liftedrelics / @mediocremorals / @heamatic / @heartmiles / @omegles / @motivelacking / @mistoffelous / @bberkman / @blondieat / @starszakrew / @fraudcoded / @thequarrelsome / @deathatyourdoorstep / @egopath / @hariolor / @tolerhate / @useknives / @starleft / @jeanjacketed / @tiimedtm / @wanderlustmuses / @musewritten / @houseofwindows / @magicalshe / @ozwolff / @jigento / @cthlicdevil / @hailiing / @31daughter / @epitideios / @metareview / @fiercemarked / @iceized / @phantomwhisp / @abomichor / @luemiere / @blckaiser / @inqustve / @toheavyn / @atnoctum / @vicemirrored / @thirtnth / @pyoniumyankee / @onlycertainty / @putryd + many many others whom i’m currently following!

i wish i could have included everyone who’s currently following me, but just know that if we’re mutuals, you’re included. these are as many as i could remember, but i want everyone to know that you are all appreciated by me, especially considering how you are all really the ones to thank for making my time here so wonderful! you are all amazing, truly amazing. in the coming weeks, i will do my best to interact with mutuals new and old.

keep your chins held high. each portrayal is special, each roleplayer brings something new to the table, and if you ever need a friend, i am always here for you.

once again, THANK YOU ALL for your support!

                                                               SINCERELY,                                                                                         ALEX

[seanfalco]

I am loving you and Kat’s Punk!AU fics!! If it is okay, could you write Valdo x Aevryn’s wedding please? I bet it was quite a fun one!! 🙈 🤣

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Valdo Marx x oc (Aevryn Swift) Word Count: 2585 Rating: G Tag list: @ficsandcatsandficsandcats @nevadawolfe @magic-multicolored-miracle @coffee-and-stories @whatevermonkey a/n: Thank you so much for this request.  I had a lot of thoughts about their wedding, so hopefully it wasn’t too all over the place.  I might make a separate post with more in depth headcanons bc honestly there’s so much I didn’t end up writing lol;;;

“How many people are out there?” you asked in hushed awe, your eyes bulging as you glanced out at the sea of people seated across the garden’s lawn in white chairs, decorated in Valdo and Aevryn’s colours: black, emerald, and gold.

“Uhm… I’m not sure,” Aev muttered, somewhat distractedly, sparing an anxious glance at the crowd of guests, most of whom she didn’t even know, but who her parents and Valdo’s had insisted needed to be there, especially since they hadn’t gotten their way with the wedding ceremony -- wanting a traditional Catholic wedding despite their childrens’ lack of religious beliefs.

The sun shone cheerily down over Kensington Gardens while fluffy cheerful clouds peppered the expanse of pale blue sky and a pleasant breeze took the edge off the summer heat.  Aevryn couldn’t have asked for a better day to marry her best friend and man of her dreams, so why was she suddenly so nervous?  She’d been imagining this day for so long with nothing but excitement in her heart, but now as she paced under the shade of the ivy tunnel she was certain of nothing.

“Hey, how’s Aev doing?” Yennefer asked, her voice pitched low as she came up behind you, her violet eyes flicking over to the bride.

“Uhh… I think she’s starting to freak out a bit,” you whispered back, watching Aevryn continue to pace, her hands twisting anxiously in her skirts.

“Shit,” Yennefer muttered, heaving a sigh as she swept past you to attempt to calm her friend; her emerald skirt swishing around her legs.  “Hey Aev, what’s going on?  Is something the matter?”

“What if he changes his mind, Yen?  What if something happens and-and, look I know I’m being ridiculous,” she cut in with a scowl, frustration plain on her face, “but I’m suddenly very scared.  I mean, look at all those people!  This suddenly feels so real and Gods I’m shaking now.  What if he changes his mind?”  

Yennefer threw you a look and you hurried over, placing a comforting hand on Aevryn’s back, patting her soothingly.  

“Hey, come on now, we’re talking about Valdo Marx here, he is not going to change his mind about you, of all things,” Yen assured her and you nodded in agreement.

“Yennefer’s right, I mean, he’s loved you since you were kids.  He’s loved you nearly his whole life.  This is just… jitters.  Stage fright,” you explained, hoping your words would help.

Aevryn nodded shakily, as if wanting to believe you both.  “Yeah, yeah,  you’re right,” she murmured, twisting her engagement ring around her finger.  “I just wish… ugh, I wish I could talk to him...”

“Uhhh,” Yennefer hesitated.  Luckily she didn’t have to think of an answer as Jaskier approached, the crunch of gravel beneath his shoes announcing his presence and Aevryn’s head snapped up, her expression warring between relief and worry.

“Jask!” she gasped, enveloping him in a tight hug from which he shot you a reassuring grin as he squeezed her before stepping back.  

“You look stunning,” he exclaimed, taking in his friend’s creme and gold gown, complete with flower crown perched on her somewhat wrangled mess of hair.  

“Thank you,” she murmured, waving the complement away impatiently.  “How’s V?  Is everything alright?  Is he freaking out too?”

“Please reassure her,” Yennefer cut in, planting her hands on her hips.  “She’s turning into a hot mess here and if she’ll listen to anyone, it’s you, Pankratz.”

“Actually, I came as a messenger,” Jaskier explained, his lips twisting somewhat in displeasure at the thought of being relegated to an errand boy, but the expression was quickly wiped from his face as you came to stand at his side, smiling up at him.  “Valdo wanted you to read this.”  He pulled a small folded sheet from his breast pocket to hand to Aev.

She took the paper and unfolded it, her sea green eyes quickly traveling over Valdo’s neat scrawl before a smile tugged at her lips which she quickly covered with her hand.  

“What does it say?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.  The other two looked just as inquisitive, though they were trying hard not to show it.

“Oh, you know V.  He’s waxing poetic, as usual, but he’s excited to see me,” she murmured, cheeks flushing slightly.  “He said he can’t wait to marry me.  That he’s been waiting all his life for this day.  Stupid romantic idiot,” she muttered fondly, folding the paper up and slipping it into her bodice, next to her heart.  “Jask, can you give him a reply for me?”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes but nodded.  “I guess,” he sighed, ruining it with a grin.  “Is it not enough that I was coerced into being Valdo’s Best Man?  Oww!” he yelped as Aevryn punched his arm.  

“Jaskier,” she warned, proceeding to jab her finger in his face.  “Have I told you how much I appreciate you doing that for him?” she exclaimed, quickly penning a response to her fiance’s letter.  “I know you would have rather been my Man of Honour, but V just doesn’t have a lot of close friends…”

“I know, I know,” he relented.  “You know I’d do anything for you, Aev.  And Valdo’s not... as bad as he used to be,” he admitted begrudgingly under his breath.

“I know,” she replied, smiling softly as she handed her paper to Jaskier to deliver.  “Thank you Jask.”  

“I’ll see you soon,” he quipped, “and don’t worry, everything’s gunna be perfect, you’ll see!”  Flashing his most charming smile at the three of you he quickly turned to hurry back to where the groom and Geralt were gathered.

You turned back to the bride to find her rereading the scrap of paper from her husband to be, smiling softly though her lips trembled slightly with emotion.

—

The look on Valdo’s face as Aevryn’s father walked with her down the aisle was most definitely the highlight of the ceremony.  You’d never seen Valdo look so enraptured -- his emerald eyes misting over as he shook with silent sobs.  Completely overcome with emotion, his curls bounced slightly and a wide grin broke over his face as Aev stopped in front of him, taking his hand and looking equally as emotional; a single tear rolling down her cheek which he quickly wiped away.

The second most memorable moment was the kiss -- Valdo dipping Aev low without hesitation as she kissed him back just as enthusiastically to the deafening applause and cries from the crowd; your own voice joining the celebration as you caught Jaskier’s eye across the aisle.  He looked so happy for his friend that it made your own heart ache with joy, honoured to have been part of their day.

Hands twined tightly together Aevryn and Valdo led the crowd to the reception area, not a far walk away; tables and chairs set up under several tall airy tents strung with hundreds of flickering fairy lights.  The dining tables were set with the finest place settings in gold and emerald, and elegant centerpieces of geometric terrariums held beautiful arrangements of succulents.  The sight was breathtaking and you joined the couple at the head table, seated next to Jaskier.

—

“You ready for our first dance, love?” Valdo asked, leaning in close to whisper in Aevryn’s ear and she blanched slightly as her eyes swept over the crowd of attendants, which had only seemed to grow after the reception had begun.  She caught sight of several influential people and a handful of celebrities and other musicians -- no doubt signed to her father’s and father-in-law’s music label, and swallowed slowly.  

“I suppose,” she murmured and Valdo noticed her trepidation.

“Don’t think about them.  Just keep your eyes on me, okay?” he murmured, brushing a kiss to her jaw.  “Besides, by the time we begin you’ll only have eyes for me anyway.”  The smirk he directed her had her tilting her head curiously. 

“What are you planning?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him fondly; excitement radiating off her.

“You’ll just have to see,” he replied, pausing to glance out at the guests that were clinking enthusiastically on their glasses, his smirk only growing before he captured her lips with his, giving the audience what they wanted.

Soon Aev was positioned in the seat of honour, unable to completely banish her radiant smile as Valdo took the small raised stage, slinging his guitar over his dark emerald tux while Vicious Mockery joined him.

“Before we begin our first dance, I decided I wanted to set the mood by serenading my beautiful wife,” Valdo explained into the microphone to the excited murmur of the guests, though his emerald eyes never left Aevryn.  “To back me up are her closest friends, the band, Vicious Mockery.  Aev, this one’s for you.  Always and forever.”  

Turning away from the microphone Valdo looked to Jaskier.  “Thank you,” he murmured softly and Jaskier nodded, a sincere grin flashing across his face before they began playing, Valdo’s eyes once more seeking out his wife.  As he began to sing for her she began to cry, tears slipping down her face, one hand coming up to clutch at her throat as the other covered her mouth until Valdo jumped down to join her for their dance, his arms circling her and pulling her close; fitting together like two matching puzzle pieces.  

True to his words she didn’t even notice the eyes of their guests on them as they slowly circled the floor, her forehead pressed to his as he murmured affirmations of his love for her; more couples joining them on the dancefloor as the song transitioned.

The night wound on and the moon rose overhead, joined by the twinkling of stars in the clear inky expanse above while the Swift-Marx party raged on, certainly not slowing anytime soon.  Aevryn danced with more people than she could count -- sharing a meaningful moment with her own father and then Valdo’s (whom she’d known since childhood and who already felt like a second father to her anyway), before Jaskier cut in, twirling her around the floor, a giant grin on his face.

“Did you ever think in a million years you’d be here?”  Jask asked, leaning in conspiratorially, while across the floor from them Valdo was dancing with [Y/N], making pleasant small talk.

“What do you mean?  Partying it up at Kensington Palace?  No,” Aev replied with laughter, her eyes flashing mischievously, knowing what he meant.

“No, I meant, married to Valdo Marx,”  Jaskier clarified, rolling his eyes.

“No.  I mean, at one point I did, but then I didn’t.  But then I hoped...”  She shook her head, her smile faltering.  “Honestly Jask, this feels all too good to be true, and I’m half expecting tomorrow to wake up and it’s been nothing but a dream.”  Her voice cracked slightly and Jaskier sobered.

“It’s not a dream, Aev,” he assured her.  “I meant what I said in my toast.  You deserve more than anything to be happy, even if it’s with him.  And I’m glad for you.”  He paused, glancing over at Valdo, “You know how much I hate to admit it, but Valdo’s really… come a long way, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah, he really has,” Aevryn replied proudly, her eyes finding her husband.  Her husband.  The words still seemed surreal.  “He’s a good man.  He really is, even if he’s not your favourite person in the world, and that’s fine, because he’s mine.”

—

Aevryn collapsed into her chair next to Valdo, his arm instinctively snaking around her waist as she leaned against him, reaching for her champagne glass, downing the rest in one swig.  They’d been dancing with their friends in between drinks and had both ended up taking the stage to sing a song together, their voices mixing and harmonizing as if there were no better duo in the world.  After the rush of adrenaline both were starting to feel exhaustion beginning to creep in, and Valdo pulled Aev into his lap.  She nuzzled against him, smiling as she fiddled with his half unbuttoned dress shirt; his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, after he’d shed his tuxedo jacket.

“How you fairing, love?  Getting tired?”  He asked, dipping his face to catch her eye; his sweat dampened curls sticking to his forehead.

“A little,” Aev admitted, her fingers tracing his jawline as she gazed up at him.  “Actually, I’m getting a little hungry.”

“Yeah?  Me too,” he replied, glancing over at the table of food before frowning.  “You wanna get out of here for a bit?”

“What are you talking about?” Aevryn exclaimed, snorting a laugh.  “This is supposed to be our party, and there’s food right over there.”

“Yeah, so?” he countered cheekily, cocking an eyebrow.  “No one’ll notice if we step out for a little while.”

“I think it might be the opposite,” Aev argued, but excitement filled her at the idea.  “Y’know I think I saw a pizza place across the street from Hyde Park.”

“Now you’re talking, Swift,” he purred, “or perhaps I should say Swift-Marx,” he added thoughtfully, stroking his goatee.  “My clever wife.”

“I like it when you call me that,” Aevryn said, grinning against his lips as she kissed him.

Sure enough, no one seemed to notice the bride and groom slipping away and running off hand in hand down the trail to the park entrance.

——

“Oh my Gods, this pizza is better than sex,” Aevryn groaned, taking another bite as Valdo leaned across the booth, his green eyes flashing.

The other patrons of the small restaurant had given them a few strange looks, as they’d entered, which turned into amusement as they realized the couple was obviously dressed for a wedding -- Aevryn’s poofy skirt filling the booth comically.

“Oh really?” he asked, eyebrow cocking jauntily.  “Is that a challenge, dove?”

“Maybe,” she smirked, pulling his deep green tuxedo jacket tighter around herself.  “You wanna prove me wrong?”  Her voice dropped to a husky suggestive tone that sent a shiver racing through him, and in that moment Valdo wanted nothing more than to hoist his wife over his shoulder and cut out on the rest of their reception to take her back to their hotel room for the night (though he knew he couldn’t do that, at least without bringing his parents’ wrath down on his head).

“Oh, believe me you little minx, I will most definitely be proving you wrong, soon enough,” he drawled, running his fingertip over the back of her hand, resting on the table.

Aevryn set down her half finished piece and took Valdo’s hand in hers.  “I love you.  So much,” she whispered suddenly.  “I love you more than all the stars in the sky.  You know that, right?”  Her voice shook slightly, as if she needed to get the words out. 

A smile stole across Valdo’s face, his heart filled with fierce affection.  “Of course I know that,” he murmured in return, “ I love you too Aevryn Swift-Marx.  I’ll love you til the day I die.”

“Good.  Because all I want is to spend my life with my best friend, making all the best memories.”

“And so you shall, my love, so you shall.”

—

Little did they know that through the window one of the photographers from the reception had followed them, capturing this hidden little candid moment; the pictures of which would become quite popular over the next few days with their fans.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: A Friend in Need

AU-gust Day Fifteen: Role Reversal AU Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power Pairing: Scorfuma

Rated: G

Summary: In another lifetime, Hordak crashed down in Plumeria rather than the Fright Zone. Years later, Scorpia is the one to welcome Perfuma to the rebellion when she defects from the Horde.

A Friend in Need

There had been several moments in Perfuma’s life when she had wondered what would have happened if the Horde had crashed down somewhere other than Plumeria.

There would still have been a Horde invasion across Etheria, obviously, but maybe Perfuma could have avoided it, and gone through her life being the princess of Plumeria as she had been destined to be before a hulking great spaceship had crash-landed in the middle of her home.

Plumerians were pacifists by nature, and they had not fought the Horde when they had first arrived. They had given up the land and the runestone willingly, and in return, Perfuma and her family and all of Plumeria’s citizens had lived. Sure, they’d had to join the Horde, but at least they were all alive.

Perfuma stared at the ceiling of her room, wishing that she could see trees and open skies like she remembered from being just a toddler. She was still Plumerian at heart, still a pacifist, and she had never been able to understand the Horde’s aggressive expansion and assimilation.

She’d never needed to understand it. She’d just needed to go along with it. Perfuma had always been good at going with the flow; she was a follower, not a leader, but it was getting harder and harder. Especially with Adora gone, and now Entrapta gone, and Hordak caught up in his own mind and Catra getting more unstable by the minute.

Perfuma had never liked to fight, but she knew that if she had been ruling when the Horde had crashed in Plumeria, she would have fought to protect her home. The other princesses were fighting to protect theirs, after all. Why shouldn’t she do the same?

Of course, it was slightly harder for her since the Horde was currently comfortably occupying her home, but she could get out, couldn’t she?

Adora had got out, and look at her now, Horde Enemy Number One.

Perfuma sat up. It was time to leave. Time to be a princess and stand up for her home. Well, provided that the other princesses accepted her, of course. She sighed, but she would not let herself be swayed from her decision. Plumeria had suffered for long enough, and it was time for Perfuma to do something about it.

X

After the initial shock of a Horde soldier casually wandering into rebellion headquarters had died down, Perfuma was surprised at how well the other princesses were treating her. Scorpia was chattering on nineteen to the dozen as she led her through the halls to the hastily prepared ‘cell’ in which she’d be staying whilst they worked out what to do with her.

“Sorry about the mess, we still haven’t moved all the stuff in properly.” Scorpia rounded a corner and only just managed to pull Perfuma out of the way of two guards carrying a large map board between them. “After everything that happened with Angela and then losing Salineas, we decided to move out of Bright Moon here to the Fright Zone, so here we are. Well, I mean, you already knew that because you managed to find us here. Obviously. Anyway, here we are, make yourself at home.”

Scorpia unlocked what was evidently an unused bedroom, the furniture covered in sheets. It was still infinitely nicer than the Horde’s holding cells.

“Yeah, we haven’t really used the castle’s full capacity for years.” Scorpia seemed embarrassed by the shabby surroundings.

“It’s better than my room back in the Horde,” Perfuma said. “It has a window, for a start.”

“I don’t know that I could live without windows.” Scorpia came over to the window beside her and opened it, a warm breeze blowing in off the desert outside, the horizon stretching out over the Fright Zone and into the Crimson Waste beyond. “Although to be honest, I’m not sure if I could live in Plumeria at all. My exoskeleton does not like humidity.”

“It was better when there were more trees.” Perfuma smiled at the distant memory. “It was more humid, of course, but it was so beautiful that you didn’t care.”

“Yeah.” Scorpia sighed. “A lot of people had reservations about moving here – it’s so hot, it’s so dry, it’s so close to the Waste. But it’s home, and I think it’s wonderful.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that the rebellion has its headquarters in a place called the Fright Zone? That’s definitely more of a Horde designation.”

“I know, right? It’s the perfect disguise! Although I have been thinking about renaming it. My grandfather was all for keeping up the old traditions, scorpions remaining aloof and all that, but I like making friends. Maybe that’s what I’ll call it when all this is over. The Friend Zone.”

Perfuma laughed. No matter what else happened in the wake of her defection, she was certain that she was going to make a firm friend in Scorpia.

X

Scorpia would admit to not being completely up on all the rules of being part of a rebellion, but she was pretty sure that having a slumber party with a prisoner was generally frowned upon. Still, it was her castle and her spare room that Perfuma was being held in, and Scorpia was more than capable of defending herself should the need arise.

She highly doubted that the need would arise. The entire reason that Perfuma had come to the Fright Zone in the first place was because she wanted to stop fighting against them. Adora always said that Scorpia was too trusting, but Scorpia didn’t want to imagine a life in which she was suspicious of everyone all the time.

Besides, Perfuma was a princess like the rest of them, one who had been ostracised for a long time for events beyond her control. If she was going to help them against the Horde, then they’d do well to treat her nicely, or else she’d just go back to the better devil that she already knew.

To that end, Scorpia had taken Perfuma on a short tour of the Hall of Horrors to meet the family, and now they were eating marshmallows in the spare room. Perfuma had never tasted marshmallows before, and Scorpia wished she’d had a camera to capture her reaction to eating them for the first time for posterity. The sheer wonder on her face was a sight to behold.

That said, she might have to take the marshmallows away from Perfuma soon. If she had any more, she’d be bouncing off the walls.

“So, the Black Garnet gives you your powers?” Perfuma was asking. The Garnet chamber had been included on the whistle-stop tour.

Scorpia nodded. “All of the elemental princesses are linked to the runestones which give us our power. Well, except you, of course. It looks like you’ve never been linked to your runestone back in Plumeria.”

“No. I know where it is and I know what it does, in a way. Entrapta and Hordak were using it to superpower the First Ones’ tech. It’s pretty much the only tree left standing in Plumeria.” Perfuma grabbed another marshmallow. “What do you think my powers would be?”

“Well, you’re an elemental like me, Frosta, Mermista and Glimmer. So, presumably, it would be something elemental. Frosta and Mermista are water, Glimmer is air, I’m fire. You’re probably something earth related. It seems likely, what with Plumeria being full of plants. And your runestone being in a tree. And if you’re a naturally peace-loving people, then making flowers grow seems like the perfect power.”

“Not exactly useful in a fight though.”

“I don’t know. Strangling roots and vines, giant plant monsters. You’d probably be a lot more powerful than you think.”

They fell into silence for a while, the box of marshmallows getting ever emptier.

“Scorpia?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because I don’t want you to regret leaving the Horde and thinking that you were better off with them. And I know that if our positions were reversed, and if the Horde had come down in the Fright Zone instead of Plumeria, and I’d left them to seek the rebellion’s help, I’d want to have a friend here.”

Perfuma smiled. “Thanks for being my friend.”

“Any time.” Scorpia put her arms around Perfuma, who squeaked in surprise but relaxed into the hug readily. “Yeah, I’m a hugger, and I think you could use one.”

Perfuma gave a weak laugh against Scorpia’s chest.

“Everything’s going to be different now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, probably. But hopefully for the better, right?”

“Yeah.” Perfuma sighed. “You know, scorpions give great hugs.”

“Thank you.”

They stayed like that for a while longer, breaking apart by unspoken mutual agreement.

“I guess you should probably go,” Perfuma said, although she didn’t sound all that happy at the prospect. “Glimmer’s probably thinking that I’ve eaten you or something.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I can stay. If anyone questions it, then I’m making sure you don’t escape. Besides, you don’t want to eat me. The pincers would break your teeth.”

Perfuma giggled, and Scorpia laughed too. She got the feeling that Perfuma would be a welcome addition to the rebellion, in more ways than one.

[derireo]

dedue - give it to me

i’ve been trying to snap out of my shits for a while now and to no avail ,,, im  sorry for the few people who have been waiting for content from me. i won’t be able to get to requests for the time being; not until i feel better.

take this hard stan dedue content from me!

dedue x f!byleth

this is self-indulgent. very dirty, no beta. pls forgive me soft stans

byleth wasn’t small. her height was pretty average amongst all the women who were in garreg mach, and she even found herself having to tip her chin down to make eye contact with someone she’s talking to. she was definitely not small.

the problem was that the men of garreg mach were so unreasonably tall and.. massive. why had all of them grown so much? they all had such drastic growth spurts – even bernie ended up becoming a whole centimetre taller than her! and look at what happened to caspar; he’s become so big now!

it’s a shame that byleth didn’t inherit her father’s height, but at least she was able to make up for it with her unrivalled strength and stony expression.

byleth didn’t feel small, either. no one made her feel that way. even when she glowered back at dimitri when he was being huffy, or when sylvain playfully backed her up into a corner, she stood her ground. she didn’t let any man more than fifteen centimetres taller than her have any power over her.

except for dedue.

he absolutely towered over byleth – it’s like holding a grape to a watermelon, the size difference was mind boggling.

byleth shouldn’t have found it so attractive. how his broad shoulders and bulging muscles made her own body look so fragile; so tiny. he was nearly thirty centimetres taller than her and byleth couldn’t help but press her thighs together whenever the fact up and smacked her in the face whenever it got the chance.

byleth was so used to being seen as an alpha woman with her fierce blood lust on the battlefield and all the muscles she had gained from training and being a freelance mercenary throughout her life. she never would have thought to see the light of day when someone made her feel so small.

sure, there are other men at garreg mach that are significantly larger than she is, can wrap their hands around her waist and still be able to touch middle fingers at her stomach. sylvain had done so once to prove a point that didn’t make sense to her and dimitri had already tried to choke her to death with one hand (he lifted her from the ground for goddess’ sake!).

but dedue.

oh, dedue. byleth would daydream to herself.

that duscur man was something else.

he was so soft with her whenever they interacted in the greenhouse, and once, when she asked him to help her with the evening meal. his voice was kind and touch light as he told her what to do with each ingredient and how to season everything to perfection. despite his build he was gentle, and it showed with his actions.

even when he first held byleth, he cradled her to his chest and murmured about how he wanted to take her back to what was left of duscur, his homeland, and show her the beautiful field of flowers it had to present to her. he had sealed that promise with a brief kiss to the back of her hand.

it was obvious that this man of duscur would be romantic in bed with how careful he was with the world around him. byleth loved it. his callused hands roaming along her body as he kissed her always left byleth dizzy with desire, she’d even get shivers when he’d trace incoherent shapes onto her naked skin.

as much as she enjoyed being caged in by dedue’s arms, she loved it when his large hands would wrap around her. whether it be her waist, her neck, or her thighs, the firm grip of his hand on her was enough for byleth to start drooling for his cock.

she was quite a simple girl and dedue would only need to scratch his blunt nails along her thighs to have her putty in his hands.

byleth loved how small dedue made her feel.

“i’m going to break you.” dedue chuckled one night, arms crossed behind his head as he watched his lovely girl perch herself just above his hips. her unscarred (how?) hands were pressed against his abdomen as she held herself up and she bit her lip to weaken the smile that was forming on her face.

she licked her lip at his sentence. “i know.” she spoke nonchalantly and used her thumbs to brush over the hard ridges of his stomach while happily settling against the forming bulge in his undergarments. “i might just cry.”

dedue’s eyes were fond with love as he stared at byleth’s face, and the girl couldn’t help but flush at the expression. it was embarrassing to be shown such an emotion while she was blatantly teasing him.

“you’re still gorgeous when you cry.” he mumbled sweetly and removed an arm from under his head to brush his rough fingertips against the soft expanse of her stomach. byleth mewed at the contact and arched into the touch, and when his fingers hooked onto the hem of her black panties only to snap it back against her skin, it made byleth squeak.

dedue gave a slight smile at the sound and sat up from his lying position, causing byleth to wobble into his lap. “how about you be a good girl first and take a little ride?” he grinned then, his eyes devious as he stared down at byleth who was holding onto his shoulders with her lips parted in shock.

“panties off.” he whispered as he kissed her nose and smacked the back of her thigh to get the girl moving. byleth wasted no time, and once she had the lace flinging across the room she had settled herself against the spot where hip met thigh, eyes nearly rolling to the back of head as her clit made brief contact with his undergarments.

she bit her lip to contain the pleasured smile that was threatening to show on her face when dedue laid his hands on her waist, and with a tight grip, began to move her hips on his own accord. the flow of her hips kept her in contact with dedue, her clit brushing against his thigh deliciously.

dedue was controlling her movements so perfectly that byleth didn’t have to put in any effort; only had to wrap her arms around her man’s shoulders and let him make her do all the work.

the little gasps and whimpers that she let out was music to dedue’s ears and it made his body feel warm; made a rolling wave of arousal go through his body as the cloth that hid his erection felt like it was getting tighter. byleth fit so perfectly in his hands, dedue had discovered a while ago. he loved how her soft and hard curves filled his large palms nicely, and it made him feel possessive.

byleth could have chosen anyone in garreg mach, but she chose him – the man of duscur. a foreigner.

byleth wasn’t scared of him and the permanent glower on his face; wasn’t terrified with how small she was compared to him. she absolutely loved how big dedue was, and always seeked the comfort of his broad shoulders sheltering her with a hug. plus she loved sitting in his lap.

(she just likes grinding against him whenever she gets the chance.)

“if i were an artist like that ignatz from the leicester alliance, i would try my best to capture this gorgeous image.” the man quietly gritted out as his fingers dug into the supple flesh of byleth’s ass, his chest rumbling with a pleased growl at the sight of his bare thigh shiny with slick.

the archbishop could only giggle to herself at the comment as she gripped onto broad shoulders, her tongue lashing out to lick at her bottom lip in pleasure, her bashful grin something dedue wished he would see every single day. “you’ve always had a way with words, my dear.”

“but you always manage to render me speechless.” he chuckled, leaning up just the slightest bit to steal a kiss from byleth before pushing her off his lap once she was caught off guard.

she squeaked in surprise at the sudden move, but didn’t dare complain when she saw the smile on dedue’s face, her breath catching in her throat as he stroked her knee.

“so small.” dedue murmured once byleth laid on the mattress with her thighs eagerly spreading apart, knees pressed against her chest as she unashamedly exposed herself to her lover’s eyes. his rough hands scratched along the smooth expanse of her thighs as she welcomed him with coy eyes, and slowly, slowly, as he reached her most private, sacred area, he used his thumbs to carefully spread apart the pretty pink lips that hid that cute little clit she always seemed to love playing with, and the gorgeous hole that so eagerly swallowed him up every single time.

“such a pretty little thing.” he praised under his breath and used the tip of his index finger to circle her clit once before dragging it down to her slick entrance, his finger just barely dipping in before he’s pulling away, a thin string of her arousal connected to his finger. “i’m always amazed by how well you take my cock.” he chuckled and used his other thumb to add pressure to byleth’s clit, enjoying the broken gasp that escaped her. “considering how tiny you are.”

“i was born to take it.” she grinned lazily and let out another gasp when dedue slipped his finger into her entrance with ease, her slick dripping out of her in waves. “i’d take being your cumdump over archbishop any day.” she sighed dreamily, dedue’s finger crooking inside of her lazily as he flicked at her clit, his smile fond. “you flatter me so. but neglecting your duties is irresponsible.”

byleth couldn’t respond, because dedue was already nudging a second finger inside of her without warning and the slight burn nearly had the girl drooling with pleasure. “yes, dedue.” she sighed and threw her head back against the mattress while one of her hands went to wrap itself around her lover’s wrist, her chest rumbling out a happy purr as he let her guide him.

she was warm around his fingers, her walls squeezing his digits in the best way possible as he curls then unravels them, byleth’s hand pushing and pulling at his wrist to give her the friction that had her thighs shaking.

“you’re always so sensitive,” the duscur man crooned while teasing her entrance with a third finger, only slipping it in when the girl beneath him whined his name, “isn’t that adorable?” he hummed and leaned up byleth’s body to kiss her sweet, trembling lips, scissoring his three fingers to loosen her walls up. he chuckled in adoration when the young woman made a small move to bite at his bottom lip, her eyelashes fluttering in pleasure when he used his other hand to pinch her clit between his thumb and index.

byleth’s toes curled while she squirmed underneath her lover, her gasp coming out playfully scandalized as dedue toyed around with her little clit, the calloused skin of his thumb rubbing against the nub and sending a pleasurable burn throughout her body. she lifted her hands to weakly grasp at the man’s wrists while she threw her head back against the pillows, her toned abdomen clenching as dedue continued to play around with her.

“i know, dear.” he crooned softly when his lover cried out from beneath him, the pads of his long fingers mercilessly dragging across that little bundle of nerves that hid itself inside her gushing entrance. byleth was so unbelievably wet that whenever dedue pumped his fingers inside, more of her sweet, intoxicating slick would drip out of her and onto the sheets, nearly causing dedue to fall into a frenzy.

“you’re being such a good, quiet girl tonight.” dedue hummed a short duscur lullaby as he slipped his fingers out from byleth’s entrance one by one, pleased to see how shiny with slick they were. he carefully pried her hands away from his wrists and kissed her flushed cheek, humming again in satisfaction when byleth obediently opened her mouth to his fingers, her tongue immediately lapping up the slick that dripped from them.

the sight of byleth’s pretty, swollen mouth wrapped around his fingers gave dedue the sudden urge to wrap his hand around her throat, but he quelled it by kissing the tip of her nose, grinning as she blinked and wiggled it while she scratched her teeth along the underside of the man’s fingers, her own hands blindly reaching out to grab the hem of his undergarment.

byleth quietly gasped in a breath when dedue pulled his fingers from her mouth and she immediately tried to tug at his underwear, her teeth excitedly chewing at her lip.

“i want it in me, i want it in me.” she mewled over and over again until she was able to free her lover’s cock from it’s confinements, and she sighed happily when dedue immediately wrapped his fingers around the base and rubbed the tip against her neglected clit, the one action causing every nerve in her body to light up in pleasure. “mm.. dedue, please..” she murmured under her breath, her arms coming up to hook under her knees to keep her legs spread apart for her lover.

“o-oh!” she gasped all of a sudden when dedue gently slapped the head of his cock against her clit a few times, her body jolting in surprise at the sensation while she bit her lip when the pleasurable weight of his hand pressed down against her stomach. her eyelashes fluttered as he shallowly thrust his cock against her puffy cunt. “dedue.” she whined.

“say please.” he chided softly, and dragged his thumb along the shaft of his cock, his hips tilting back slightly to brush the tip against her entrance.

“please.” she grumbled.

“good girl.” dedue smiled mischievously as he teased byleth’s little entrance with the head of his cock. the girth was big, and his tip was leaking pre-cum.

byleth was practically drooling at the thought of getting thoroughly fucked, and she bit her lip in anticipation as dedue carefully nudged the head inside, the delicious stretch of her entrance causing byleth to shudder in pleasure.

“more, please.” she mewled happily, her tongue making another appearance to lick at her lips. without warning, dedue let his cock slip out from byleth’s entrance, only to tease her again by dipping the head of his cock in then pull it out. “a-ah! yes!” she squealed loudly for the birds to hear, and with a chuckle, dedue lazily thrust his hips to meet with hers.

byleth was waiting so long for this moment that when it happened, her tongue poked out from her mouth and her eyes, half lidded, went cross with pleasure.

unable to feel her fingers, byleth let go of her knees, causing her thighs to close around the hand that was pressing against her stomach, “give it to me.” she whimpered, her body squirming when dedue brushed his thumb against her belly button as a loving gesture, “please.”

and how could dedue say no to that?

the chuckle that escaped his chest was full of adoration, and he kindly obliged to the request of his lover, his palm flat against her stomach while his other hand forced byleth’s thighs back against her chest, his hips rocking slowly at first to ease her into the stretch.

byleth licked her lips happily when dedue slid his hand lower down her stomach to let her watch how his cock was sliding in and out of her, the bulge of his cock through her stomach making her giggle despite her eyes rolling slightly when he gave a particularly hard push of his hips. “yes!” she gasped, back arching as she grabbed onto dedue’s forearms, with him moving to hold her by the elbows.

he used her arms for leverage, pulling her down onto his cock when his hips would snap up, the force causing her body to slide up the bed.

dedue’s thrusts were relentless once he had a rhythm going, and each slap would push the breath out of byleth’s lungs, her voice coming out as a pleasured cry or a heaving gasp whenever air was able to reenter her body. sweat was dripping from her temples already, and her hair stuck to her face and neck as dedue used her body for both their pleasure, a lazy growl crawling out from his throat.

“i know, darling.” he managed to whisper out when he made eye contact with byleth, her eyes slightly misty with unshed tears as he continued to pummel into her, “it feels good, right, dear?” he murmured lovingly and moved a hand to cup her jaw in his palm, his eyelashes slightly fluttering as her walls spasmed around his cock, the head rubbing against her bundle of nerves as he ground his hips against her.

he kissed her nose when he received a nod and a sniffle in response, his small laugh fond as he caressed her sweaty cheekbone with his thumb, kissing her swollen lips while slowing down the pace of his hips to let byleth catch her breath, “you’ve been so good, sweetheart.” he murmured against her skin while his hands trailed down her sides, his calloused fingertips tickling the skin he made contact with. byleth could only giggle weakly, her mind muddled up enough for dedue to grab ahold of her hips and pull her up so that she was seated in his lap, his body upright to keep her stable.

“now you can go and get your treat, darling.”

and without further instructions, the young woman began to circle her hips with a pleased sigh, finally being able to savour the feeling of being full of dedue’s cock. “thank you.” she sighed dreamily as she lifted her hips, only to quickly sink back down to stuff herself full again.

“dedue.” she moaned weakly and wrapped her arms around dedue’s neck to keep her from falling off his lap as she picked up the pace, her breaths coming out in quick puffs by his ear, “i want your come.” she mewled, her hips rocking in a fluid motion as she began lapping at the sweat that was dripping down his jaw, “i wanna be full of your come.” she begged.

“okay.” he cooed into her ear with a tired grin, dragging his hands down her body again to hold her hips, “you’ve gotta earn it yourself, my sweet dear.” he teased, bellowing out a soft laugh when the only response he got was a warning nip to the shell of his ear.

“i’ll make you swollen with my children.” he coaxed gently, the tone he used normally only heard when he’s making a promise. “i’ll come as much as you want.” he pushed further, chuckling breathlessly once byleth’s hips began to pick up speed, “you’re almost there, sweetpea.” he reassured her by squeezing the soft flesh of her hips, his head tilting back in pleasure when she rocked down onto his cock, his lips curving into a tender smile.

“oh, goddess,” byleth gasped helplessly as she gripped onto dedue’s shoulders, her thighs shaking in exhaustion. the burn was close to becoming too much, and she called out dedue’s name through a sob as her nails dug into his slick, tan skin, begging for him to take over for her as the sensation of pleasure was turning her brain into mush. the thought of conceiving children through such a filthy act like this was enough to send tingles down her spine. it was so absolutely sinful, and here dedue was, calling her cute nicknames that would normally have her flustered. “please.”

“that’s it.” he hummed low in the back of his throat and dug his fingers into byleth’s hips once again, using the grip he had on her to circle and rock her hips against his lap. he began to force her body up then let her sink back down until he was buried to the hilt inside of her again with what was left of the strength in dedue’s arms. byleth was blubbering at this point, as tears obstructed her vision. the heating coil in her stomach burned, and she was only able to clutch at dedue as he controlled her hips.

“give it to me.” she begged with a voice that was barely above a whisper; her throat sore from the multiple times she wasn’t able to catch her breath.

“yes, yes, yes!” byleth squealed in delight once dedue adjusted their position so that he was resting back on his haunches, and began to thrust his hips up to meet with hers to chase their orgasms together. “oh, dedue.” she arched her back once her toes started tingling, “fuck me, please – harder, harder –” she cried out desperately, her fingernails scratching at tan skin as her lover continued to take the breath away from her lungs.

the coil in dedue’s stomach tightened as byleth’s walls clenched uncontrollably, and it only spurred him on more. he craned his neck slightly to capture her lips in a kiss as he groaned, his teeth sinking into the plush cushion of her lip. the archbishop could only hum contentedly against his mouth, but her head was getting lightheaded with how much electricity was coursing through her veins. the easy slide of dedue’s cock going in and out of her was only causing more of her slick to gush out, and all she was able to do was continue to take the abuse being given to her hole, the thrusts becoming more rushed and sloppy as dedue seemed to be reaching his limit.

“mff – !” she gasped in surprise when heavy spurts of come began to coat the inside of her walls, and her eyes began to roll to the back of her head when dedue’s thrusts began to slow, but they pushed into her deeper than before. her pleased squeaks of pleasure were muffled by dedue’s mouth as he continued to bury his come deeper inside of her, and she giggled weakly, her fingers digging into his chest as he chose not to pull out.

“dedue..” she sighed, happy, and ground her hips back onto his cock to get him to growl, “so big..” she murmured against his lips while going back to wrapping her arms around his neck. she bumped her nose against dedue’s as she regained her breath, dedue’s thumbs lazily stroking her hips while she kept a steady pace at grinding down onto his length, her throat buzzing when she let out a purr.

when dedue shifted their positions so that he was sitting comfortably on the bed with byleth still in his lap, he began to press soft kisses along the expanse of her throat to calm himself from his own orgasm. “don’t pull out yet.” she sang and curled her legs around dedue’s hips to prevent him from pushing her off of his lap. “i want to stay like this forever.” she pouted to herself, but giggled when dedue gave a teasing nip to her throat. “just you, me, and your fat cock stuffed inside my little hole.”

dedue decided to scold her then, “that’s some vulgar language you’re using there, my lady.” and he gave a delicious slap to the side of byleth’s thigh to punish her.

“says the man who’s still pumping me full with his come.” she poked her tongue out to which dedue bit into her collarbone, chuckling.

“says the woman who was begging for it.” he fought back and tightened his fingers around byleth’s hips once again, lazily circling her body onto his cock again as the burn in his stomach reignited once more, his grin devilish as he watched byleth bite her lip and flutter her eyelashes at him. “you’re not done yet, hon?”

“i already told you i was planning on making you pregnant with my children.” he grunted once byleth began to cooperate with him and moved her hips however he wanted her to, “i’m not going to pull out until you’re gushing with my seed.”

byleth could only sigh with joy, her toes curling.

“okay, daddy.”

[jack-fruit]

Paint the Stars

Hey gamers this fic is apart of my personal swap au which I also wrote this for. You really don't need to read that one to understand this one, but its short lol. All you need to know that's mentioned there is Aziraphale is a bat demon so like

-----

When the starmaker first learned to paint, he was going by Anthony. He had no reason to go by an alias, but he had grown rather fond of it after providing it to a rather polite demon. His decision to dip his fingers into what was the original sorry excuse for paint, however, had nothing to do with his name, but everything to do with his title.

He had hoped after the fiasco with Adam and Eve, She would allow him back into the expanse of space to make stars once again. She told him he had more to do on Earth, much to Anthony's chagrin. So he walked among man bitter and with hands itching to create.

They'd only been a few generations into humanity when a girl first found that mixing together egg yolk and red soil would make a substance that would trail bright and stick to the rock. She used it to make crude drawings, which Anthony watched, impressed.

It wasn't until there was a suitable array of colors avaliable that Anthony felt the tug of longing hard enough that he sheepishly approached a group painting across an expanse of cave walls and scooped up some of the yellow paint.

He created starbursts across stone and nebules across rock. He didn't have all the colors he wanted to work with, but the thrill of a challenge only spurred him on. He may have also been there to nudge the Egyptians in the right direction of finding blue paint, okay? Sue him- blue was one of his favorites.

-

It wasn't until around 300 BC that Anthony picked up a paintbrush. There had been other attempts at something similar before, but all the crude sticks and leaves could not capture the fine detail a brush of a fingertip could.

Anthony was perfectly content using his hands and fingers, just as he always had, but the man selling the brushes assured him they were intended for caligraphy. The angel picked up the thin bamboo with animal hair attatched to one end, and decided that perhaps a certain demon would get a kick out of it. After all, Az loved the written word, perhaps he would like a tool to help create it.

He had originally only meant to try it out. To make sure it worked as advertised, but as he dipped it into the ink that he'd purchased alongside it, he slowly realized things were not going to go as planned.

The gentle sweep of the brush across parchment was a sensation he liked almost as much as fingerpainting. And it kept his hands blessedly clean. He created a void in the paper, a sinkhole from which there was no return. He then got up, grabbed his paints, and wove a galaxy around it. He tucked the concept into the back of his mind, deciding to ask Her to let him abandon post for just a while to play around again.

-

He was going by Raphael when he realized that he could paint more than just space. He had been out in the cosmos for a few decades, having gotten the okay to return to where he belonged. He had ended up quite liking the brush idea, which is where the staff came from.

His staff was a long piece of carefully maintained bamboo that he was able to miracle from brush to staff with minimal effort. The staff worked a bit different from an actual paint brush, it didn't even have a proper brush end, really, but the angel would push his power through it in arcs and waves in ways he hadn't really been capable of before.

But he missed Earth, much as that fact irked him. He missed the browns and the greens and the greys. He missed the food and the wind and the sounds. Above all, he missed the sparkling darkness of a certain demon's gaze, which he would certainly never admit.

So he returned to earth and decided to give a new name a whirl. Raphael. When he told Az about it, he laughed, but did start calling him by the new name. It put something at ease in his chest, that approval.

Raphael had known that people painted things other than space, of course he did, but he never thought to do it himself until he saw a man painting a landscape.

"Mind if I join you?" Raphael had asked without thinking. The man looked at him, curious, but nodded his consent and offered Raphael the paints he was using. All earth tones, nothing like the angel liked to work with.

Withholding a sigh, Raphael decided to paint the same landscape. It was more challenging then the colorful and shapeless bursts he was used to, but it was easy enough to get. Sharp bursts of brown-green, yellow spikes of grass, grey-brown bark. It was the same concept, the pallete was just different, the angles a bit sharper.

"What are you doing?" Raphael jumped and whirled to face the fanged grin of his adversary. The original painter and his canvas had vanished.

"Why are you here?" The angel tried very hard not to sound pleased.

"I asked first, Starmaker," Az said, taking his brush from him and narrowing his eyes at the carvings on it. "Are these snakes?"

"Snakes are cool," Raphael hissed, turning back to his painting. "And I'm painting, now you."

"Oh just spreading some chaos here, michief there."

"Which I will inevitably thwart," Raphael noted. "You know, maybe-"

"No! No we are not..." Az's voice dropped to a harsh whisper, "we are not teaming up Ant- Raphael."

"Antraphael?" The angel teased momentarily, before his expression turned thoughtful. "That sounds like an angel I knew- a principality. Wonder what happened to him...haven't heard from him in ages."

"Doesn't matter," Az snapped, aggrivated. "I know what heaven is like. They find out you're helping the enemy and you know what they'll do? They'll toss you out, and thats if you're lucky!"

Raphael's brushstroke shot up, ruining the entire painting.

"Let's go get drinks," he grumbled, waving the project away. It would be years before he would finally rediscover, fix, and finish the damn piece.

-

The name didn't last, of course it didn't. Anthony knew Az was really quite uncomfortable with the name Raphael, despite his insistance of it being fine. The closest the angel got to an answer was 'reminds me too much of someone else. Not you.'

So he was Anthony again when he realized how truly and utterly fucked he was. It was the 19th century, and realism- true realism- was coming into style. The more detailed and real looking a painting looked, the better. And for the first time since paint had been invented, Anthony couldn't master a style of art.

Of course, he would eventually, but at the present everything he painted looked cheap and fake. The concept of shading was new to him, nothing cast shadows in space and his landscapes were more stylized than anything. Along with that, still life was a bit drab to him- lots of looking and staring at inanimate objects doing nothing and feeling nothing for hours.

In contrast, portraits had the opposite issue. The subject was too squirmy, and the constant annoyance and boredom that flared up would effect his brushwork.

Plants were a good compromise, just alive enough to entertain him, but not squirmy enough to distract him. He spent hours trailing greenery across his canvases, adding bursts of color where flowers decided to plant themselves.

He ended up surrounding himself with plants, expresing his annoyance if they began to wilt, which would quickly make them perk up once more. He accidently scared the plants, he thought, what with all his frustrated yelling and the torn canvases strewn across the floor, but it did lead to them looking exquisite. He'd be lying if said he hadn't been hamming up the dramaticness that came with destroying his less than perfect works.

Az had come over once, sitting properly in a plain, stiff wooden chair he summoned while Anthony sprawled out across his own sofa. Az was looking at a half finished painting of a plant.

"Do you ever paint anything other than plants?" Az asked suddenly. Anthony sat up and followed his gaze.

"Space."

"Other than space and plants."

"Like what?"

"People?"

Anthony snorted and fell back against the cushions, "nah, people move too much."

"Oh," Az said. The two fell quiet for a few minutes before Az spoke again. "Well if you like, I could...you know, model for you. If it would help."

"I- you- what?" Anthony sputtered. The demon scowled at him.

"Mind out of the gutter, Anthony. It's simply that...look I can hold much more still than any human could, I would be an easy model to start with to get the human-esque form down."

Anthony was quiet in his consideration. Much as he loathe to admit it, it did make sense. And as much as he loved painting plants and stars, he did want to branch out, if only to prove he could. He was a stubborn bastard that way.

"Fine," he grumbled. "Just...stay there, then," he launched himself off the couch and collected his paints.

"Now?" Az asked, and when Anthony turned to face him, his dark eyes were curious and wide and just...beautiful.

"I- er- that okay?" Anthony asked, taking his brush and twirling it in his fingers. Az nodded; Anthony nodded back in reply. The angel turned his easel towards the demon and, with a slow breath, began to paint.

He had always found Az remarkable- with his intelligent eyes, his soft, slightly singed curls, the curve of his delicate pink lips...

He was practically in a trance, looking more at Az then his canvas. It felt like no time at all before he had finished enough for Az to move if he wished. The demon cracked his neck at an inhuman angle, then stood to look over Anthony's shoulder.

"Oh...Anthony," his breath ghosted across his ear and he had to surpress a shiver, "this is perfect, how have you been having trouble?"

Slowly, Anthony tipped his head back. He let his curls brush against Az's shoulder as he did so, and when he looked to the left he could see how close the demon really was. With his eyes that reminded him so much of his night sky that it hurt.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

"S'not done, still time to mess up," he said over his mounting panic. Az laughed that soft laugh of his and grinned, revealing those delicate little fangs perfect for-

Anthony's entire brain ripped like a canvas in a desprate attempt to get that image out of his head. In the meantime, Az had pulled away and offered him an apologetic farewell. Anthony was still sewing his brain back together when the door closed firmly behind him. He was still stitching his sanity back into place as he found himself setting up a new canvas. He was still lost in a daze as he found himself wondering how many years it would take to draw Az perfectly from memory.

-

The first time he wrote out the name "Anthony J. Crowley" had been on the deed to his studio. A studio he had not planned on getting at all, but when a giddy bat demon bounced up to him only about 60 or so years after the whole gay crisis thing Anthony had no choice but to follow. He wasn't sure if the blindfold made him more or less eager, if he was being honest.

"Watch your step!"

"I can't see, idiot, there's a blindfold over my face."

"Stop sassing me or I'll gag you, starmaker."

"Kinky."

"No!"

Anthony laughed, feeling a warm flutter in his chest as Az very firm stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Then, he removed the blindfold.

"Tada!"

"A...building?" Anthony raised an incredulous eyebrow at the demon.

"It's for your studio!" Az enthused.

"My-?"

"I originally bought it thinking about making a bookshop out of it, but then I realized thst would require me to, um, you know, sell my books? And so I thought instead I'd give it to you. I've already found a quaint little cottage for my books And I to stay, so I have no need for it, obviously-"

"Azzy..."

"No need to thank me, you're just taking it off my hands," the demon pushed on, shoving a deed into Anthony's hands and then bolting like the devil himself was after him. Anthony looked at the deed, then at the building.

It could use some paint...

-

1967, he'd been going by Crowley for 25 years as far as close friends were concerned. Well, close friend. After tonight, though...

He leaned heavily against the door to his studio, against the painted grasses and flowers that stretched across its surface, growing towards glow and the dark stars. Against his chest, Crowley clutched a jar containing a single, wild spark of hellfire. Uncontrollable, untamable, and all Az's.

'What, not going to offer me a lift?" Crowley had quietly asked, sitting behind Az on his motorbike.

Crowley moved as if he were walking through the thickest of oil paints. He entered his room, set the jar on his desk, then returned to the studio itself. Half finished projects were littered everywhere. Crowley looked at them and felt empty.

A soft, pained laugh. 'I know I go too slow for you, Crowley...' Then, the most heatbroken admission, 'I am... quite unsure if I will ever be capable of catching up with you.'

Crowley's whole body began to shake. Hands balled into fists, and then he screamed. He grabbed a wooden stool that Az could often be caught sitting on and threw it right into one of his paintings. It splintered and ripped and Crowley felt good.

He tore paintings from the wall, shattered frames against the floor. He ripped apart each brushstroke, each secret hope. He only stopped when he tore his paintbrush off the chain around his throat and tried to snap it. Lucky for him, past Crowley had enchanted it to be basically invincible, so his efforts simply drained him. He let it expand into his staff so he could lean heavily on it as sobs wracked him. He was angry, he was heartbroken, and he had never felt less holy.

-

In the years leading up to the apocalypse, Crowley hadn't been painting much. Any attempts to bring his brush to the canvas were hindered by the fact that the world was ending, and that in less than eleven years all these things he was making would be destroyed. Again.

He thought maybe after everything, after escaping heaven and hell, he would be able to paint avain. Yet, as he sat with a sketchbook in his lap in Az's livingroom he felt no spark, no drive.

Well, that wasn't true. He felt something, but it wasn't the need to create. He took a swig of wine and looked up to where Az was quietly contemplating his own glass.

"I-"

"It's Aziraphale."

"...what?" Anthony sat up straight for the first time possibly ever. Az flinched.

"My- my name...my angel name. I never," he bit his lip, "all the other demons were changing their names, but I never meant to fall. I liked the name the Almighty gave me, even if She...so, so perhaps you can call me Aziraphale from noe on? Since I guess I'm technically not a demob anymore..."

The name was familiar. It brought Crowley the memory of a flash of white wings and blue eyes watching him work. However, that image very comfortably faded to fit the face of the demon he so loved.

Aziraphale.

"Aziraphale," he spoke it in a way that made one think of blasphamy. He caught the demon's shiver. Slowly, Crowley set aside his sketchbook and his wine and he prowled forward.

"Crowley?"

"Yes, Aziraphale?" He breathed, close enough to count the lashes framing Aziraphale's dark eyes. They fluttered closed.

Lips pressed against lips, soft and full of longing and hope. It took Crowley a moment to realize he hadn't been the one to close the gap. He framed Aziraphale's face in his hands, like the work of art it was, and kissed back.

A gasp and then hands fluttered against his back, gripping at his jacket as the angel pushed him back in his chair, thoughts scattered so only one thing remained.

Aziraphale, Aziraphale, Aziraphale.

-

They laid in a bed conjured earlier that evening. Aziraphale didn't own one, since he was used to hanging upsidedown from the rafters when he slept at all. He made an exception tonight, though, and was now curled up fast asleep in Crowley's arms. He traced the blue-purple-red bruises scattered across his lover's skin and smiled fondly as Azirphale wrinkled his nose and turned in his arms. Slowly, Crowley untangled himself and moved towards the easel he'd put in the room back when Aziraphale was sleeping for a century. He had wanted to be around the demon, even if he was fast asleep with no plans to become concious again until he thought his books were in danger.

He brushed the dust off a blank canvas and set it on the easel. It was facing out the small window, revealing the expanses of space for Crowley to record again and again. He hesitated a moment before changing the angle of the easel, pointing it towards the bed where Azirphale was still curled up.

He looked over at where his brush had been reverently placed on the nightstand at contrast with everything else he'd been wearing previously. He looked at it and then shook his head. He opened a pot of red paint and dipped his fingers into it. The excess dripped from the tips before Crowley set then to the canvas, and he began to paint.

[maknaesdancersrappers]

on the third day of kinkmas, my lover did to me:

[ f a c e - s i t t i n g ]

>>KUN

>>warning/s: breeding kink bc why not, unprotected sex (bc breeding kink duh), a dash of angst

a/n: we need more smutty kuntent for this prince of China

-

Most arranged marriages between kingdoms for peace and unity end up being unhappy and result in multiple affairs and concubines. Your parents considered themselves lucky because they were good friends before your grandparents arranged them to get married; and because such predicament is unavoidable, your parents have made arrangements for you to befriend, at an early age, the son of the neighboring kingdom.

Kun of the Qian kingdom was soft spoken and bashful when you met him. Both of you were eight years old, hiding behind your mother’s dresses as your parents urged the two of you to talk. After another encouraging urge from his father, Kun stepped forward and asked if you wanted to catch dragonflies in the garden.

And everything started there.

When you were both fourteen, he found out you liked butterflies more so he gifted you a garden of flowers to attract them beneath the balcony of your room.

Two years later, there was no doubt you were inseparable and mutual admiration was undeniable. The relationship everyone had speculated was forced through the arrangement was now something both of you wanted and enjoyed.

“Kun.” You quietly beckoned to the boy tending to the parasol to provide you shade from the afternoon sun.

“Yes, princess?” He peeks down from the frilled parasol.

You feel your cheeks warm when your eyes meet, “Oh, you know you don’t have to address me as such.”

Kun smiles at you, taking one last check at the parasol’s position before taking a seat on the picnic blanket beside you. “I meant it as a nickname.”

Your face felt like it was burning now, “Oh… well, I was just wondering. We’re sixteen now. In a few years, we’re expected to announce our engagement and the wedding will follow not long after.” You fiddled with your thumbs on top of your lap. “I was wondering if we had a choice—would we push through with it?”

Kun cocks his head to the side, the fringes covering his brow following, “I would if you would.”

“What if I didn’t want to?”

The briefest frown graced his face before forcing out a smile you could only describe as melancholic. “Then we wouldn’t get married.”

“But!” You exclaim, straightening your back and reaching out to cover his hand with yours, “I do, though. I wouldn’t want to marry anybody else.”

The prince chuckles; moving to hold your hand, raise to his lips, and presses a kiss over your knuckles. “As do I, my princess.” Through his lashes, he glances at you. “My future queen.”

“My future king.” You quietly say back to him.

You shared your first ever kiss that day; the first time you ever felt his lips, plump and soft, against yours: it felt like kissing a rose bud.

Ever since that day, you and Kun were something more. Anyone could tell, from the stable boys when you two wish to ride your horses to your own parents, casting knowing glances across the dining table as you and Kun smile at each other.

When you were twenty, just a year shy from the wedding date, a rival kingdom wages war against the Qian kingdom that required both your fathers (as your kingdom is already an ally to theirs)—and Kun—to set out for battle.

The night before they had to leave, you sat in your silk nightgown at the foot of your bed, worried and frightened by the possible outcome of the war.

A knock sounds on your door and your lady-in-waiting calls out, “My lady, Prince Kun would like to see you.”

“Come in.” You reply in a voice loud enough for her to hear through the thick mahogany doors, rising to your feet and briskly walking over to greet Kun, also dressed in his sleepwear, as he enters with a hug. “Must you go?”

He sighs, “It’s my kingdom, [Y/N]. My people need me—and they’re yours, too, in a year’s time.”

You open your mouth to retort, but you dare not say such a predicament; a nightmare. He, however, is quick to catch on, kissing your forehead in consolation.

“I’ll be alright, princess. We’ll win the war and I’ll return with our fathers safely.”

“How are you so sure? Death is inevitable in wars, Kun, I don’t want to risk it.” Tears spring onto your eyes at the thought. “I don’t want to risk losing you.”

“You won’t.” He repeats, thrice; each one with a kiss on your lips. “When I return from war, victorious or not, I will marry you immediately. I promise—please, my princess, tell me how I could put your worrying heart at ease.”

Without thinking, you quickly beg, “Lay with me.”

He is taken aback with your request. A prince and princess during their betrothal period is not allowed to bed one another. And although you two have messed around in the shadows when you were left alone unattended, neither of you pressed to go any further.

“[Y/N].”

“In case the worst befalls you,” You glide your palms to cup his face, “I want my innocence be taken by you, and only you. In case you don’t return, leave me with your offspring—son or daughter, I don’t care! As long as they bear any resemblance of you.”

Kun’s features contort into unease, “I can’t let you raise my kid on your own. What will people say about us breaking the rule of being betrothed? They’ll call us shameless for being impatient. If I don’t return, you’ll be unfit to be wed off to another if they find out we’ve slept together—let alone finding out you are carrying my son. You’ll be brandished as a whore and I can’t have that.”

“I don’t care! I don’t want anybody else!” You cry into his chest, gripping onto the cloth of his shirt. “Would you let another man hold me when you’re gone?”

His fingers on your back twitches at your words, letting you know how he really feels about the situation.

“Would you let another man deflower me? Pleasure me like you could have? Would you have allowed another man’s child in my womb?”

“No.” Kun spits out the single syllable with disgust.

“My love,” You whisper, “this could very well be our last night together.”

He breathes in deeply as he lets your words sink in, placing his hand to cover your own. He intertwines his fingers with yours and brings it to his lips, kissing your palm. “If you put it that way, then I must spend the next hours showing you the extent of my love.”

You stumble back a bit when he kisses you suddenly, your hands finding support on his muscles that have gotten firm during the days he spent away to train for a battle.

For a brief second you’re reminded of what’s to come when the night is over, but it’s quickly thrown out the window as Kun’s nimble fingers dance along your arms and hook the sleeves of your nightgown between them; pushing it down your shoulders.

You help him get your dress off, letting the silky cloth pool around your ankles until you were left in your panties. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before but he still likes dragging his eyes over the expanse of your exposed skin.

Kun untucks his shirt and pulls it overhead, tossing it aside without another care. He leads you to your bed, carefully laying you down the soft blankets and trailing kisses down your body; from your lips, chin, neck, both breasts, until he reaches your navel. “By the time I return, this must be swollen with our child, yes?”

“Yes.” You repeat, practically shaking in anticipation as he rolls your underwear off. You press your thighs together when he extracts the white clothing article from your ankles.

He slides his hands up your legs and leans forward to kiss your knees, “May I see you, princess?”

Your heart is thumping erratically in your chest as you slowly part your legs, wincing slightly at the cold air that breezes through your intimate parts.

Kun sighs, almost contentedly, running his hands down your thighs.

“Please don’t stare.” You try to shut your legs back together but he stops you.

“Don’t be shy, princess. You’re beautiful—very beautiful, all of you.” He assures, lowering his head down to your nether regions and placing a chaste kiss that pleasantly jolts you.

“Oh!” You exclaim, rising to your elbows to watch him. Once his tongue touches you, licking through your folds, you fall back against the mattress with a moan, “Oh.”

His tongue felt warm; a pleasing contrast to the cold air from the open window when it hit where his lips have been. He holds onto your thighs, squeezing them once in while whenever you quietly whimper. You were a little disappointed when he pulls away all of a sudden. He moves to the space beside you and guides you to sit on top of him, “Come here.”

Once you had straddled him, you look down in confusion while you await his next order.

“Come sit on my face, princess.”

You gasp, “On your face? I—I can’t possibly!”

Kun smiles, “It’s okay, princess. Think of it as your throne, come now.”

With hesitancy, you maneuver yourself until your core was right above his awaiting mouth. You were quick to succumb to the position when Kun resumes his feast on your groin, loudly humming as your juices dripped onto his tongue. He held you against him with firm grips on your thighs when you began to writhe from a knot in your stomach that started to tighten.

It was certainly a new position for the two of you. He had never had really used his mouth to pleasure you like you had with his; his fingers knew your pussy more: where to touch inside of yours to leave you shaking, where to grind his palm against to make you want more.

One of his hands lets go of your thigh to spread apart your folds for his tongue to lick more of,  coaxing your juices out by inserting two fingers and dragging them out crooked. He captured whatever essence he was able to draw out with quick laps, making noises of absolute satisfaction at the little feat.

When your body began to convulse in short bursts, you slap a hand over your mouth to contain a moan as you feel yourself unraveling, bucking your hips incessantly against his tongue while his nose prodded the skin that housed a bundle of nerves that sent little shocks of pleasure into your system.

Kun is slurping your climax beneath you as you catch your breath, the little hairs that framed your forehead had stuck to your skin due to perspiration.  

He gestures for you to lie back to the bed, guiding your quivering frame with gentle hands. “You tasted so sweet, princess. I could have your essence all night over and over again.”

“Don’t be silly.” You blushed, feeling ashamed at how wet his lips are. “Don’t say things like that.”

He looks at you, quizzically. “But you are, love. Would you like to try?”

Kun dips his head closer to you, but stops just an inch from your lips. Realizing he’s waiting for you to move, you pull him closer with a hand over his nape until his mouth was on yours.

His lips tasted differently from the previous kiss and blood rushes to your cheeks when you realize you were tasting yourself on him. It wasn’t as sweet as he claims, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“I think I like how you taste more—from that time at library, do you remember?” You giggled as he pulls away.

He came to visit you while you had your lessons and the minute your tutor left, assuming you wanted to converse in private; you were on your knees for the first time in front of him and got acquainted with his cock.

“How could I forget? I never knew how salacious you were; swallowing it all and acting like nothing had happened when your tutor returned.” He chuckles, “If we had a little more time, we could relive that moment, but tonight...”

Kun sits up, pushing the garter of pants down until it was completely off his legs. He situates himself between your legs, kneeling with his thighs spread apart and rigid cock in hand. “Are you sure about this, [Y/N]? Think about the consequences that can arise from this.”

You rise up and replaced his hand that held his cock, pumping the entire length. “There are no consequences, Kun. How can your child in my womb be such a thing?”

“You really want this?” He laughs a little when you nod, “You’re quite spoiled, you know?”

“Is it really my fault you grant every wish I ask for?”

“I guess not. I just want you happy.”

You look at him, wistfully. “I am.”

Kun glances back down the little space between your bodies, eyeing how your wrist expertly handles his member. “This will hurt you.”

With another kiss, you whisper against his lips: “Nothing will hurt more than the uncertainty of the war’s outcome. If I truly am spoiled, you’d grant my wish and stay.”

He kisses your forehead and without another word, guides his cock into your entrance. Your mouth falls at the entirely new sensation you’re experiencing. You watch as his length disappears inside of you, inch by inch, and halfway through, you feel a painful pinch within that causes you to whimper.

Kun places a hand on your hips and the other on your face, “Tell me to stop, princess.”

“Don’t.” You choke out, flinging your arms around him to bury your head on the crook of his neck.

“Just a little more, my love.” He whispers, voice strained as he runs a palm over your back, kissing your shoulder as if it could distract the pain.

You could feel yourself stretching out to accommodate his girth, uncontrollably clenching around his dick as it continued pushing itself deep inside of you.

“Tell me when to move, princess.” He kisses your shoulder repeatedly, gliding his hands all over your body and squeezing whatever he could to encourage you.

You moan when you tried to move by yourself, just shifting ever so slightly, “I—okay, p-please do something.”

He transfers his hand down to your ass, pushing your weight up just a little before letting you ease back down his shaft.

An abrupt exhale leaves you with a breathless “okay.”

You begin to bring yourself up after a few minutes, finally getting used to and surprisingly enjoying the feeling of being stretched out; while still holding onto Kun with arms around his shoulders.

He murmurs soft encouraging words into your ear, minutely groaning once in a while when you would clench around him.

Pulling away from his neck, you gaze into his eyes, “I love you.”

Kun’s lips twitched into a grin, “I love you, too.”

Your brows suddenly furrowed when the familiar knot in your stomach begins to tighten once more. Kun must have sensed it too because he suddenly moves your bodies around until your back is pressed over the mattress and his hips are repeatedly snapping into yours; taking charge of the situation.

The arms on either side of your body that held his weight up were straining, veins popping out of the smooth skin. A good amount of sweat had accumulated on his own furrowed brow, threatening to drip onto you.

Your hand leaves the warmth of his shoulder to hold your breast that had been bouncing back and forth with Kun’s thrusts. During a particularly hard re-entry of his length into you, you grasp onto your breast and unintentionally heightened the pleasure you were experiencing.

Your face was completely flushed, already glowing pink as you made the softest noises that filled in the silence of your room aside from the creak of the bed and snap of Kun’s thighs against yours.

“You look so beautiful, [Y/N].” He bends down, bringing your neglected breast into his mouth and swirling the hardened nipple with his tongue. “What I’d give to have you like this everyday—and I will, when I return from war. Just wait for that day, princess, I’ll return as a man and become your king. I’ll show you how a king shall love his queen.”

You moan at his words, threading your fingers through his hair and pushing your chest into his face for him to ravish.

“I promise to return, my love, I promise on…” Kun hisses; hips picking up their pace.

“On what, my love?” You whimper, legs quivering at your oncoming orgasm.

“On our child.” He grunts, thrusting so hard that it unravels you for the second time tonight, and as you violently shake with your back arching away from the bed, Kun stills completely with eyes shut tightly; letting your pussy naturally milk his cock of his seed.

You slump back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as you savor the warmth that’s spreading from your core up to your abdomen.

Once he catches his breath, Kun pulls his cock out of you; worriedly eyeing the little blood that coated him. “Are you okay? You’re bleeding.”

“You’ve taken my virginity, that’s all. I’m fine, I—I feel amazing.” You pant, taking his hand and gripping it hard. “I know you should head back to your room, but could you sing me to sleep tonight?”

“Of course, princess.”

You wince a little when you try to get yourself under the covers while he dresses himself. After he does so, he sits by your head and you move so that your lying on his lap.

As he combs your hair down with fingers, you quietly ask him, “Wake me before you leave.”

He nods before he sings you a lullaby and in a few minutes, you’re fast asleep.

Instead of returning to his room, he stays with you; watching you sleep, playing with your hair, and singing once more every time you stirred. When dawn came and your fathers had entered your room to fetch him, he—nor your father—had the heart to wake you up; not when a ghost of a smile graced your face.

So Kun, despite your request, left without disrupting your sleep and you only found out about it when you had woken up a mere hour after they departed; the tracks of their horses on the ground still fresh like his voice in your head when he lulled you to sleep.