#my beloved my one and only my brightest star in the sky

[wildsaltair]

do y’all ever think about how Maximus’ main joys are things that involve creating and nurturing life? he’s a farmer who loves tending crops. he’s a husband who adores his wife and probably wanted to have more children eventually. he’s a father who adores his son and wants to raise him. his leadership techniques are encouragement and kindness. he treasures the lives of family, his men, and even his enemies to a certain degree.

and still, he is constantly expected to kill and destroy simply because he’s good at it. I can imagine he joined the army because, like most young boys, he saw the glory and excitement of it. he’s a natural born killer with his foresight in battle and his ability to size up opponents in an instant. he’s brilliant at what he does.

but. that’s not what makes him rise in the ranks everywhere he goes.

as a soldier, it’s obvious he’s won the respect and loyalty of his men because he is honest, devoted, and caring toward them. he does not cast them into battle as pawns; he rides alongside them and supports them as equals in battle. Marcus wants him to be the next Emperor because he knows Maximus’ nature is not to be power-hungry.

even as a gladiator, it’s his refusal to kill Tigris that really puts him over the top in favor with the people. they love him for his ability to kill, but even more for his choice not to. he befriends his fellow gladiators instead of seeing them as obstacles to his freedom. he treasures the memory of his family by carrying their statues with him everywhere he goes. his last act of killing Commodus is not just to get revenge and set the city to rights — it’s protecting and nurturing the life of a little boy who reminds him of his own son, the grandson of the man he thought of as his own father.

and I just think there’s something so powerful in the way everyone recognizes Maximus’ humility and kindness and mercy just as much as his courage, prowess in battle, ferocity, etc. he stands out because he doesn’t glory in killing, he doesn’t relish in destroying lives. he mourns life lost. he longs to live peacefully and foster life.

how tragic? that it’s people’s obsession with his natural skillset that prevents him from doing what he wants most?? Marcus won’t let him go home, Commodus won’t let him go home, Proximo forces him to kill, the mob loves him when he kills.

and how ironic? that they all recognize his goodness and refuse to let him live accordingly? how ironic that all he wanted to do was be kind and the people who recognized that still forced him to be harsh?

[gay-dorito-dust]

Maybe hook x reader where she is like sunshine reincarnated like she’s so bubbly

Hook never understood how you could be so energetic and bubbly all the time, but yet it was because you were the way that you are that has lead him into adoring you in the first place unashamedly.

You saw things in a brighter hue of colour than he did and greeted others with a smile that it outshone any and all the stars that hung in the night sky above Merlin Academy.

It was due to your sweet and bubbly persona that made Hook more weary of the people that tried so hard to associate with you for one reason or another, he didn’t wish for your kindness to be seen as a weakness to be exploited.

So he’d often acts as your personal guard dog and scared off those who sought you out for their own personal agenda by flashing his hook along with a couple of vague threats before watching with pride as they ran with their tails firmly tucked between their legs.

‘James.’ You’d say.

Hook smiles as he crosses over to you and holds you close as he uses the back of his hook to trace your jawline. ‘Now before you say anything dearest, did I mention that I adore the sparkle in your eyes whenever you see something or hear something you love, or the way you’d grab my arm and squeeze it when you could hardly contain your excitement before dragging me along your escapades.’ He says sweetly as your pout was quick to become a growing smile as you found yourself unable to be mad at him for long periods of time.

‘You are temporarily forgiven.’ You’d tell him as he raises brow at you.

‘Only temporarily?’ He gasps, holding both hand and hook to his chest, closing his eyes as though in pain, ‘darling you wound me.’ He adds, opening one eye to look at you adoringly as you laugh at his dramatics before playfully swatting his bicep.

‘Okay you’re fully forgiven. I shall pardon your actions today because I can never seem to remain upset at you, captain handsome.’ You said as hook hummed at your new nickname for him. ‘Captain handsome?’ He rests on his tongue, ‘is there a joke somewhere in that I’m missing sweetheart.’ He adds as he rests his forehead against yours.

‘No,’ you giggle as you peppered hook’s face in kisses, much to his delight. ‘Just wanting an excuse to call you handsome.’ You add cheekily before squealing when he pulls you in by the waist and steals a kiss from your lips, smiling.

James Hook refused to share you, his beloved darling. with anyone else. You were his greatest treasure, his friend, his confidant but most importantly his love and he’d be damned if he lets that fool Peter Pan -who had been eying you for a while- to have you when you were his to have and to hold for as long as he could.

For you were the light he was refused from accepting but now he’d happily watch as you spread your love, happiness and joy to all you thought needed it most however you could. You were warm again this skin in more ways then one, your soul burned brightest when you were making others happy or relieving them of their stresses.

Hook may not value the same things as you did but that didn’t mean he couldn’t admire your valiant efforts to help as many people as you could, all the while smiling that gorgeous smile of yours while doing so.

You were his sunshine and he wasn’t about to let anyone take you away. Safe to say you warmed his cold heart back to life, and while your bubbly nature could often leave him with a need to keep you safe form those who thought this insinuated your nativity, when in actuality it emphasised your emotional intelligence in comparison to others who didn’t feel that same level of comfortably yet.

James hook would always be proud of his partner who was nothing short of sunshine incarnated in human form.

Warm, welcoming, and above all kind.

[mythblossoms]

nebula

pairing: caleb x gn!reader content: first! kiss!, yearning & down bad caleb and reader, light teasing, nicknames (pip-squeak), two dummies (affectionate) in love, loose EPIC/Odyssey reference because it's me a/n: double posting today to BECAUSE IT IS LOVE DAY and this is dedicated to beloved @spiderlilypetals - happy valentine's day, i think you deserve the world and sweet nights cuddled up and looking at the stars ;u; wc: 1.6k

Solar systems begin with the collapse of a nebula, swirling clouds of dust and gas expanding, swelling, building until caving in on itself. Waves of energy rippling across space and time, clinging to the remnants and tugging them in and forming a new home.

Funny, Caleb thinks, that this is what loving you feels like. 

Years spent memorizing the way your lips quirk up into a smile when he teases, the way you bit your lip when you were upset, how your eyes sparkled  when sharing some new interest — moments building something in his heart until it caved in on itself and you became the center of his universe, the brightest star with the strongest pull, keeping him stable but spinning.

“Any one home?” your voice broke through the churning cloud of thoughts encasing his mind like a bright light, the slight nudge of his knee with your foot grounding him — as you sat curled up on your couch. “Is someone getting too sleepy?” 

He grinned at you, lightly grabbing your ankle and squeezing. These light touches were familiar, safe. Contact that came easily after years of knowing each other. “Me? I wasn’t the one who stayed up late last night looking up best claw machine tactics.” 

“Well, at least one of us is trying,” you scoffed, tucking cold toes under his thighs and crossing your arms. “Your skills are getting rusty. Might have to revoke your arcade membership.”

“Don’t pout, pip-squeak —” his hand grazed your knee before settling on the back of the couch, another barely there touch that sent a ripple of energy towards his heart. “Pretty sure those new plushies on your bed came from your very dedicated co-pilot.”

“You can’t always use your evol, you know.” You poked your tongue out at him. “It’s cheating.”

It was easy like this, hidden under the familiarity of teasing and the safety of nostalgia. You would laugh, poke him in the cheek, make some silly joke at his expense. And he would collect this moment, another star in the galaxy of you. 

“And I’ll do it again,” he grinned. “Anything for you.” Only for you. 

You yawned then, the late hour truly not lost on either of you. Your hands stretching above your head, the collar of his old sweatshirt loose on your shoulder. 

“Remember the time we hung all those glow in the dark stars in my room?” You leaned in, head resting on your knees. Wistfulness lingered in your eyes, and Caleb’s heart stuttered - the gravitational pull of your gaze that strong. 

And how could he forget. All day spent arranging those stars in different paths across your ceiling, every pillow, blanket, and plushie to be found pulled into a massive pile on the floor. The night spent creating stories about constellations found in the patterns crisscrossing the ceiling. The pale green glow of the stars reflected in your eyes, the atoms hovering in the smallest space between the two of you humming with the energy of a combusting star. A night sky for just the two of you. A memory so ingrained that he could feel that weighted charge clinging to his skin. 

“What, you think I’d forget that?” He pinched your chin gently. “Someone wasn’t tall enough to put them on the ceiling so I had to do all the hard work”. He waited for the eye roll, the huff that would surely follow or the pillow that would be tossed his way. Safe he thought, easy.

The energy in the room had shifted, perhaps in the way you had looked at him or in some memory that had reawakened. The comfortable silence now thrumming in time with his beating heart. He wondered, briefly, could hear it? You sighed, wrapping your hand delicately around his, offering a gentle squeeze. “I miss it.”

Did you know the effect you had on him? Eyes closing as you relived the memory, fingers threading delicately with his. “I miss it being just me, and you, pretending like the stars were meant for us.” Caleb would pull every star out of the sky and hang it in your room, if it meant you were happy, if it meant your hand entwined perfectly with his.

“We don’t have to pretend anymore,” he said gently, his eyes speaking every word that drowned on his tongue. Simultaneously hoping you felt the weight of his words, wishing you would stay in your reverie. He moved imperceptibly closer, hovering on the boundary of what was familiar. “We could grab some blankets and look at the stars now.” His voice just above a whisper, the softness masking the slight quiver in his words. 

You hummed, a soft content sound, squeezing his hand - a slight glimmer in your barely open eyes. “Don’t forget our plushies.”

Your balcony had become your very own cozy fort. Big pillows carefully arranged against the windows of your apartment, every blanket you owned layered up, plushies propped up in the optimal stargazing seat — and Caleb sat next to you. The warmth of his leg pressed against yours, the chilly night a distant memory. He was safety, a constant comfort entangled in your life - never just you, or just Caleb, but you and Caleb. 

From here, the bright city lights hid most of the stars from view, only the brightest peeking out from their inky blanket. “I never thought it would be so hard to see the stars in the city,” you sighed curling into the blanket, pulling it up to your chin. “No stars means no stories.” 

Caleb grinned then. “Are you sure? Look-” he pointed to two stars that shone brightly - directly across from each other in the night sky. “You don’t know the story of the man who couldn’t return home?”

He was always better at this, the lightheartedness, the ease in offering something to you. Even back then, pulling stories from nothing just to make you smile. And of course you did. Earnest hands pointing to each plastic star, words energetically tumbling out, his own warm smile. Could he see warmth dusting your cheeks then? The way your eyes widened with each knock of his knee? 

His voice brought you back, the simplicity of a story much like before, but this time his voice was softer, the words more delicate. “Every time he tried to get home, some new obstacle blocked his path. Monsters and mayhem — but each time he would use his strength in strategies and calculations to pass them.” 

You leaned in, enraptured, eyes focused on him as he gazed up at the night sky. “And each time he felt like it was too much, like giving up - he only had to think of her. His guiding light. His constant - always together, always tethered. No matter what happens, he would stop at nothing to be by her side. “

Truths always lie hidden in stories - offering a semblance of reality. You could feel that here too, tonight. Time had stopped, or was it moving too quickly? Outside your balcony everything was a blur, here it was just you and Caleb. 

“Did he ever get home?” you barely heard your own voice. 

He finally looked at you, brows knit together in some unreadable expression. “He did, but things weren’t the same. All those things he did to get home had changed him.”

Your fingers found his, easily - simply. Fitting together as they always had. “But she loved him all the same.”

You felt it now, the restraint. The way Caleb held his breath, how his body stilled. His eyes the only thing betraying him — flicking from yours, to your lips, down to your clasped hands. The soft sound of surprise that escaped him. A bundle of energy bound so tightly it threatened to implode. 

“He was always hers too, right? Time can’t change that.” You moved closer, angling your head closer to his - warm breath against his cool cheek. “It’s always going to them.” It was always going to be Caleb and you.

The space between you felt too large, too charged with an energy that bound you and Caleb together. Closing the distance, you placed a tentative kiss on his jaw. His hand squeezed yours tighter, eyes fluttering shut — a slow shaky exhale released, as he leaned just slightly into your touch. 

“Is this okay-” you hummed into the tender part of his neck. The flutter of his heartbeat strumming against the soft of your lips. 

“More than okay,” he said hoarsely, fingers still laced tightly with yours — grounded in familiarity in the face of this gravitational shift.

“Okay,” you smiled, pinching his chin with your other hand - flitting small kisses against the length of his jaw and angling his lips towards yours. The space between so small but electric, sparking against the sensitive skin. He murmured your name, soft and pleading, before your lips met his. 

Kissing Caleb felt like the universe had exploded - stars and cosmic dust swirling between as gravity rearranged, realigning into a place that was you and him and this moment only. Something new yet familiar. His hands once hesitant now desperate pulling you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you, kisses becoming rushed, tongue tentatively brushing against yours.

Letting go was harder, Caleb chasing after your mouth - planting small kisses to your chin, the corners of your mouth.

“Just wait,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours. “Don’t move.” 

You ran your fingers through his hair, drawing lazy circles at the nape of his neck. “Why?”

“If you move, I’m worried I’ll wake up and this will all be some dream.” He whispered into your skin, hands playing with the ends of your hair. 

Cradling his jaw, you moved him towards you again - kissing the worried space between his brows, the outer corners of his eyes, then lightly on lips. “I’m here.” Then, with a soft pinch of his chin again, “This is real.”

[yanoverload]

𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖! 𝕊𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕤𝕤

This time, the portrait is at the end of the post, and you will see why!

The story is based on a magic fictional world, much like those in villainess isekai manhwas. 

I promise I don't hate any church ok. I only used words related to real life as a way to make it understandable.

Also you thought Dae-Ho was cuckoo? HAH THIS GUY IS SO MUCH WORSE.

Also I'll post a drawing of "Anneliese" later for you guys to imagine her.

ℍ𝕚𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕝 "𝔸𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕤𝕖" 𝕊𝕔𝕙ä𝕗𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟜 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝟙𝟟𝟟 𝕔𝕞 (𝕠𝕣 𝟝’𝟠 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕥)

🌟 As much as it likes to deny, the high church knew they had enemies. 

🌟 They were far and between, but they refused to leave until the current administration of said holy empire was destroyed.

🌟 That was at least, the current plan of the biggest assassination guild known on the six empires, also known as Tartaros. 

🌟 And they had the perfect guy for the job. 

🌟 Codename Carnelian, actually named Himmel, was the orphaned son of two well known alchemists at older times.

🌟 Said alchemists were killed by the church in the hunt for what they were currently called: defectives.

🌟 To seem merciful and holy, the children of the holy criminals were spared, but kept in church facilities that the unfortunate that live there call "detention center".

🌟 Alchemists aren't hard to identify, for their eyes look like that of the most refined jewels, said to be able to see the nature and essence of all elements on earth.

🌟 That was why, the only way Himmel managed to escape was learning glamour magic, disguising as a common nun.

🌟 Now, not only with that card in his hands, as well as years of studying the ins and outs of the institution, he was picked for the master plan.

🌟 Infiltrate the church, steal the love the worshippers have for it, and kill the high priest.

And oh, how Himmel drooled thinking about the day. 

🌟 Oh right, he's not Himmel for the time being. He's "Anneliese" the beloved and revered saintess.

🌟 It took a while to get the recognition, he admits, but how easy it is to fool everyone with a sweet and fragile looking persona.

🌟 What he didn't anticipate at the time however, was the plan the high priest had for him.

🌟 How genius it would be, to make the saintess betrothed to the ruler of the second biggest empire in their world.

🌟 The emperor/empress was the biggest stone in the church's shoes, as one of the only that didn't impose their religion on their people.

🌟 So their political move was to throw the saintess as a pawn and a spy in said empire.

🌟 That put a bit of a slow down to the Tartaros' plan.

🌟 What also slowed down their plan was Himmel's feelings.

🌟 He was taught to love no one. But even when he showed up in your own palace, you treated the saintess, someone you should hate and wish to throw to the wolves, with utmost respect and care, like a fragile doll.

🌟 And how was he supposed to not care for you when you hated the church just as much as he did?

🌟 Maybe being an empress wasn't so bad! He just had to seduce you, and after the downfall of the church, you would keep him by your side.

🌟 He didn't expect you to come back from your hunting trip so soon though.

🌟 So now, as you enter the meeting room expecting to meet certain higher ups and some kissasses of the high priest, you instead find a blonde shirtless man, covered in blood, corpses littered at his feet.

🌟 Not being the empress/emperor for nothing, you reach for your sword, but your keen eyes notice something.

🌟 A burn scar that looks like the Callisto star, the brightest in the sky, right at the back of the man's throat.

🌟 The same Saintess Anneliese has.

🌟 Burn marks being the one impossible thing to remove with spells.

🌟 The man looks at you with euphoria and obsession in his eyes.

"My love, you're back earlier than I expected. Did you know these bastards were secretly planning a coup? But don't worry, I took care of them."

🌟 In the state of shock at your discovery, you barely notice his arms slinging at your shoulders, close to you like one would to a lover.

🌟 But Anneliese or whatever this freak decides to go by, is not a lover in your eyes. They are like a Venus flytrap, seductive persona trying to swallow you whole.

🌟 He whispers in your ear.

"Let me be your executioner, and I shall turn you into god."

[bimboothefool]

Yandere Eli Clark? You can decide how to write it, also gn reader, thanks 🫶

𝐍𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐑𝐮𝐧

𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚!𝙇𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙧 𝙋𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙭 𝙂𝙉!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝐚/𝐧: No probs Anon! I hope you like this one-shot and again thank you for your patience!

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unhealthy obsession, using Brooke to stalk you, forced marriage, suggestive behavior, reader is gender neutral, really really short story, implied stockholm syndrome (???), nonconsesual touches and kisses. Very loosely inspired by the song Bernedette by IAMX.

“Such a lovely spouse the gods have bestowed upon me…” Eli’s hands caress your cheek, you glared at the man in front of you. “I feel sacrifice is more accurate…” You mumbled bitterly, you’ve been stalked and hunted like an animal for sport. ‘ Given to him by the gods..? If that is the case, this is a cruel punishment… ‘ His hand rested on your thigh as the moon shines brightly as the stars glimmered in the night sky. Under different circumstances the scenery would’ve been comforting or romantic even.

Though you’re aware that’s not even the case.

You can vividly recall the feeling of eyes constantly following your every move and no matter how far you ran, changed your appearance. It was all for nothing, eventually you’d be forced to keep moving the thought of being chained down to a man who deeply frightened you.

His so-called love was just a thinly veiled excuse, Eli was obsessed and decided to use his power and influence to get you right into his arms. If he truly loved you, he wouldn’t have bribed people to expose your whereabouts. He wouldn’t have to put up a poster with a reward. But then again Eli was operating on a different plane of existence.

“Sacrifice, no no my dear… My visions told me that you’re the one who’s perfect for me.” You sneered at the man as he gently laid you down against the plush bed.

“Is that so?” Eli hummed in reply as he analyzed you, drinking in how you’ve been dressed in the finest silk and styled to perfection. “After all you’re the brightest star, my eyes have laid upon. I’d be a fool to not reward your good deeds.” He hovers over you drinking in how breathtaking you were.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Eli huffs at your words. “You saved Brooke, my beloved friend and have treated me like an equal. Not some god this village has propped me up to be…” You regretted saving that damned owl who practically followed you and ratted you out.

“You’re a mad man…” Eli merely laughs at your insult, as he presses a kiss upon your cheek. “Only for you… I won’t ever let you out of my sight again… I’ll love every inch of you and give you everything your heart could ever desire.” Peppering your face and lips with kisses, he vows to you far more intimately, yet it feels hollow in your mind. Even during the exchange of vows, you could barely remember what you’d promised him.

His lips kissed from your cheek, down towards your neck. His wandering hand caressing your hip as the other guides your leg onto his waist. You caught a glimpse of his wedding ring, it was taunting you. That you’re now bound to Eli, till the day you draw your last breath.

Hyper aware of your own wedding band on your ring finger. It was akin to handcuffs, a physical reminder of your humiliating loss. “I’ll keep you loved and happy, you’ll never need anyone else. I’ll be your light, your saving grace and the love of your life…” You begrudgingly and silently accept your fate. Bound by a monster who wears the facade of someone who’s handpicked by god to spread their message.

“I love you, to the moon and back…”

𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐨𝐧 | 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢 | 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬

[lohotine]

Okay, After reading your Longan x Reader Oneshot

I wanna see part 2 where Reader boldly just kissed them on the lips as a way to confess to then and leaves just to wait for the end results tomorrow

AN: Longan my beloved ♡

Longan Dragon x Reader

Oneshot (1/2)

Warnings: None

-Longing-

Stars in a night sky will always shine beautifully, glowing with radiance, and harboring a strength that will guide people through the darkness. Despite this, you couldn't help but think about how they were akin to that of a simple lamp during the day when compared to Longan Dragon.

No matter how much light the brightest star gives off, Longan will always shine ten times brighter.

"How much longer are you planning to stare?" Longan Dragon asks you. You simply admired their features, studying how light from the stary sky would bounce off of it so gently.

"Sorry, I zoned out.." Yet you couldn't rip your eyes away from them. Something about them was so captivating, and you just couldn't bear the thought of looking away for even a second.

And as you'd continue to gaze at Longan, they'd avert their own gaze from you.

They let out a sigh. "It is getting quite late. I'll escourt you to your room," they said while taking hold of you hand.

And with that, they began to lead you off of the balcony.

Both of your footsteps echoed throughout the otherwise silent hallway. It was full of the most extravagant pieces of treasure on display.

But the real treasure, you thought, was right here in your grasp.

Maybe that should have been embarrassing to admit, but you solemnly stood by it.

Before much time had passed, you both had arrived to your room.

"I suggest you get some rest," Longan said.

You nodded your head and opened the door when an idea popped in your head.

"Oh Longan, one more thing before I go to bed!"

They stared at you curiously for a while before you cupped their face with your hands.

You leaned closer to them before leaving them with a soft kiss. It was sweet, though full of a longing that was hard to put into words.

When you pulled away, Longan only stood there, not saying anything. Despite thier normally emotionless stature, you could tell this action had stirred some emotions in them. A sharp breath would escape from their lips before you spoke up.

"Goodnight, Longan."

And then you'd enter your room and close the door.

Maybe you did it out of fear for the result. Thought, seeing exactly what the result was would have to wait until next morning.

[arisewanekosuki]

TLH-Extra-: You're the brightest star for me (Aether x Fem!Reader)

Small spoiler from Simulanka World Quest

When your group was helping the Prinncess Cimest and Faurobert you never thought that at some point you all would go flying.

When the relic started to glow and started to soar in the air you didn't expect for your feet to lose ground underneath them. You got scared by this but thankfully Aether quickly reached for your hand, smiling. -"Everything is alright." and with that he managed to calm you down.When you flew from the cave, your breath was taken away. Simulanka looked so beautiful. Some origami animals were waving at you, excited to see your group. This felt like you're truly in some lovely fairytale. The night sky was wonderful, you're not sure when you started to laugh. Looking at Aether to ask if he sees this all, what you didn't expect was that he was already facing you. That soft look and smile, like you're the most beautiful view here, made your cheeks warm. You two started to fly higher, tightening your hold on Aether's hand you screamed and then started to laugh again. The blonde traveler felt so happy to see you enjoy it, if his wing wouldn't be taken away he would gladly show you Teyvat or any world from the sky. When you started to laugh he joined too. For the first time in so long he felt so truly happy, it felt like it's only him, you and stars. But he wondered... Is it alright for him to forget about his beloved sister for a moment? This made him stop laughing. Feeling awful for just enjoying the moment. And then something splashed his face with water. It was you. You both are flying up to the waterfall. You giggled. -"Don't space out or you will end up hitting a tree!!" -"You think so? Because for me it seems..." -"Wa-?!" you were brought closer to Aether, thanks to him you avoided a branch that would hit your face. -"...You are the one to hit the tree!" -"Not as long as you're by my side~" you smiled cheekily and the golden haired boy laughed at that. He hopes that Lumine will forgive him that at this moment he wants to think only about you.

---- Sorry it's very short, tbh lately my head is too empty to finish longer fics T_T I hope everyone enjoy their time in Simulanka!! c:

[pandorias-box]

In times forgotten, they used to call Lunala, the Wings of the Moone a guardian of the newly fallen that leads them to worlds beyond. A psychopomp. There are many folktales regarding Lunala acting in such a way, including the very origin of its Ghost-type affinity, although nowadays they are nothing more than stories that people do not tell as often as they once did due to a lack of scientific reasoning or rationality behind them. Yet even with the act of storytelling being a rarity in my homeworld, it is one that I wish to persist regardless.

Before the first Wings of the Moone attuned to its spectral affinity, it was still a being of moonlight. Yet during this forgotten era of myth, the moon functioned as a second sun, so that light would always shine through the darkness even if the Blinding One were not there to illuminate one's path. Much like in the myth of the origin of eclipses, the primordial Sunne and primordial Moone were enthralled by one another, seeking to chase one another for cycles unending, only meeting for a fleeting moment before being separated once again.

One day, the primal Lunala was doing its duties as it always had, acting as the both the moon itself and its emissary. But, its wings had grown weak and weary from orbiting the sky and chasing after its beloved Solgaleo for eons. It needed to take a break, yet if it did now, the balance of the sun and moon would shift. Disrupting Solgaleo would result in Lunala taking over as the sun and Solgaleo in place of the moon. Lunala shined brightest when Solgaleo reflected off of it. It could not be. It must not be. And yet, its flight halted for only a moment. With its third eye, Solgaleo could see that its beloved had done so and sought to rush over and aid Lunala. But it could not.

Let me rest. Said it.

But, you need to continue your duties as the moone. You must. I implore you. Solgaleo pleaded.

As they stopped their eternal chase, Solgaleo started to notice something happen to Lunala. By defying their sacred duties, Lunala was starting to fade. Its aura started to scatter across the sky until most of it became dark, all except for the pale light that burned in front of the solar beast. It was the most beautiful that Solgaleo had ever seen its beloved even if such circumstances were never to be.

And then, the first Lunala faded away. Solgaleo roared out into the heavens and realms beyond, crying out to the Blinding One as to why it was subjected to such a fate and not itself.

Why did its aura cease to be and not mine?! Why did it resting result in its destruction? Tell me why my beloved was taken from me!

The Radiant One did not answer, for it knew not how to. It was the first time the Blazing Sunne had ever seen such a thing. A being simply... vanishing into nothingness. Fading away into a dark oblivion unto The Void.

But as it cried, light started to return and coalesce. From the same spot where it seemingly dissipated, Lunala returned. Its aura had changed. It was still radiant, yes, but now it could do something different. Not only could it emanate its now pale light, but it could siphon it for itself. Other aspects of itself scattered and coalesced into stars that then morphed into its mighty wings once more. Its third eye glowed brightly for an eyeblink before concealing itself once more. Was this why the Blinding One refused to tell Solgaleo of its partner's fate? That it was okay the whole time?

Our light will one day fade, my beloved. And so will those who revere us. Yet, that is not the sole ending point of one's journey. Aura is light, and light is aura - for it connects us all. I shall be the one to guide those whose light grows dim. So that they may rest among the stars. Lunala spoke.

Solgaleo went up to its partner and leaned its mighty head against its. And what of your light? Your duties of keeping this world bright and free of shadow?

My aura remains even if I glow dim. For light cannot exist without darkness. Yet even amongst the shade and shadow, there is still light. We can still coexist, yet our duties must be different. The days have grown ever longer. It is time for night to come into being. It spoke.

And from that moment, day and night were no longer one, but they were still bound to one another. Lunala took it upon itself to lead the auras of those who have fallen unto the stars beyond. A divine sacrifice that would lead it to become a guardian of the fallen.

[cilil]

Manwë Week Day 7

His brother never came.

Day 7: Freeform - Arda Healed Relationship(s): Manwë x Varda, Manwë & Melkor Synopsis: Dagor Dagorath is over, and Arda is healed - or is it? While everyone else enjoys the new world, Manwë mourns his brother. Warnings: Angst, loss of sibling, mentions of death, a bit of body horror, self-destruction of fána (not suicide, but you have been warned) AO3

The Battle of all Battles was over. The final notes of the Second Music faded away. 

Arda Marred had died, and Melkor with it. 

Arda Healed was born, yet he was still gone. 

Manwë stood upon the plains of Valinor, the place where everything had ended before it began anew, destroyed and remade like living memory rising from the ashes. It was silent save for the gentle breeze that ever accompanied him, and the sky was perfectly, brilliantly blue. 

He was waiting, had been for a while. Many ages ago, when they had first built the world — it felt like an eternity now and perhaps it was — Melkor had come upon Arda like a blazing comet, bright and crowned with ice and fire; yet all Manwë had seen in this world was the occasional shooting star that Varda sent across the sky. 

His brother never came. His brother had fallen one final time, it seemed. 

He had hoped that his father would remake him and cure him of his evil so they could finally be together as they were always meant to be, brothers in the mind of Ilúvatar; but alas, it seemed as though this was the one grace he would not be granted. It was a selfish desire perhaps, to want Melkor back after his death had ripped Manwë's own ëala apart, severing what remained of their connection with cruel finality. Yet it was for his brother's sake as well, having seen his decline and grieved the potential that was lost. 

Had he not been taught that redemption was possible for all? Had Eru himself not said that Melkor's discord would aid in devising wonderful things? Why then was there no happy ending for the first of them all, once the mightiest and brightest, one who could have been dearly beloved if pride and malice hadn't ruled his mind? 

Nevertheless, Manwë continued to wait, as if he was attempting to prove that he was no faithless brother to the ghost of his memories of Melkor. 

He knew not how long he had been standing there — unmoving like a statue, his gaze raised to the heavens in desperate hope — when Varda came to bring him home. 

"He won't come," she voiced what he had been refusing to think. 

"He was late in the other world too," Manwë opined, though the trembling weakness in his tone betrayed him. His wife was, as she had always been, so very wise and rational, while he was no more than an unquenchable wellspring of estel.

"Manwë," Varda said gently, taking his hand. "His evil is no more, and with it he too was unmade. I know you mourn his loss, but you cannot deny that he chose this path."

"I know." 

She began to pull him along. Manwë stood still for a while longer, stubborn and petulant, but followed her in the end. 

It most certainly wasn't her fault, and she was right as well. 

"Come and rejoice with the rest of us, my love. In this world we will finally know peace."

"And Melkor never will."

"He never wanted to." 

Again, Varda was right, but it did little to soothe Manwë's pain. 

"If Arda was healed, why wasn't he?" he asked. 

It was a question for his father rather than his wife, but patient and faithful as she was, she answered him regardless.

"I can only repeat myself: He never wanted to. You know that healing and redemption cannot come to someone who refuses it, right?"

Manwë nodded. Yes, that lesson they had learned indeed, and painfully so. 

"Manwë." Varda spoke more firmly now. "Beloved, if you ever want to be at peace you must ask yourself: Did you truly love Melkor or did you love the idea of a brother? Did you love what you saw when you were watching Námo and Irmo?" 

He remained silent. It was clear what the answer would be if he asked her what she thought, and he knew she wanted him to arrive at the same conclusion. Not out of malice, but out of love, for his own sake. 

Even so, Manwë felt misunderstood. In a world where all was healed, his brother was missing, and with him a part of his own being. In a world where all had returned and loved ones surrounded him, he had begun feeling incomplete and alone. 

— 

Aside from his missing brother, Arda Healed was a lovely place. Manwë had been advised by Irmo to enjoy what was rather than what could have been — a concept he remembered all too well from the world that was no more — and he had taken the advice, even as he noticed the shadow of concern that lingered on the Fëantur's fair face. 

Varda was the light of his life, as she had always been. They soared through the skies like they had done when they were young, painted it with stars and clouds, became one in body and spirit whenever they desired companionship.

Ulmo was his closest friend, and Manwë visited him often. They would make music together, in the clouds, on the shores, in the sea, carefree as they had been in their youth in the Timeless Halls. 

The other Valar he went to see as well, determined to give them the time and attention he hadn't always had in Arda Marred — all except Námo, for he had gone on vacation and couldn't be found, something that made him glad to hear. 

Whenever Manwë found himself in the company of Nienna, he was tempted to reveal his pain to her and seek her wisdom, yet restrained himself in the end; she had wept so much already, and he couldn't bear to cause her more grief. 

Eönwë had worried him for a time, deeply scarred from the wars he had fought in his name — more guilt that Manwë knew he wouldn't be able to overcome any time soon — but at last it seemed as though he had recovered. To the surprise and amusement of everyone, his herald found himself in the arms of none other than the Maia once known as Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, and he was happy that he would finally experience the joy of courtship, gladly leaving them alone. 

Ingwë welcomed Manwë in his home as eagerly as he had always done, and it was wonderful to see that another old friend was well. Even Fëanor seemed amenable to his company these days, as he had found out when Finwë invited him to a family gathering. 

"I hope the loss of your jewels burdens you no more," Manwë told the greatest among the Noldor. "Believe me, I would have never asked for your most beloved creations if it hadn't been necessary at the time. I was — and still am — truly sorry." 

To his surprise, Fëanor merely gave a light chuckle. "There is no need to worry about it any longer, my lord. I bear no ill will; and in the end their loss has only made me realise that I possessed greater treasures all along."

Manwë sat beside him in silence then, engrossed in the Noldo's proud, beautiful face that suddenly reminded him so much of his brother.

— 

He had travelled the world and seen everything he had always wanted to see, even walking among the Secondborn under the benevolent guidance of Lúthien. He had smiled and laughed and shared his songs and poetry with all that would listen. He had spoken to those who had never heard his voice in the old world, finally able to make himself known. 

But it wasn't enough. None of his many encounters could soothe the painful longing for his brother, the one that always remained out of reach, now more than ever before. There was a gaping wound in Manwë's heart, one only he could see, and nothing could stop the bleeding. 

Where would he find Melkor if he was here in Arda Healed, he wondered often. Would he visit him in his halls? Would they meet by happenstance in Irmo's gardens and enjoy sweet pastries and tea together? Would he come to see the world with him? Would he await him in some hidden location?

All these questions and many more did Manwë ask himself as his grief grew rather than lessened, as did dread and despair. Wherever he went, he always arrived at the same place, whatever he thought, he always arrived at the same conclusion: That his brother, his other half, whom he had never truly known due to ancient strife, was no more, and now he would never know him. 

He wouldn't be able to tell Melkor that he loved him more than any crown or kingdom, that he had loved him from the first moment of his existence, that he had never given up on him. He wouldn't be able to show him his heart and his memories, to prove to him that he had always spoken true. He wouldn't be able to experience that connection he had longed for so fervently, to live in a world where their brotherly bond was not torn, where whatever love they had for one another was not doomed. 

And this reality broke his heart. 

Varda found him weeping on the peak of Taniquetil after yet another night of watching the sky and waiting in vain. 

"Manwë..." 

He covered his face and shook his head. There was nothing he could have said to her; perhaps his behaviour was foolish and shameful, but he had truly tried his best to heal and repair himself after a piece of his ëala had been ripped away from him. 

"Beloved, why do you mourn him still?" 

"I cannot stop," Manwë whispered, "I cannot forget. There are wounds that cannot be healed even by the arts of Irmo, Estë or this new world. I know you will tell me that Arda is whole and beautiful without Melkor, but for me a world without my brother will always be incomplete." 

"Manwë, please –" 

"If the only way to heal Arda was to unmake him, the only way to heal my spirit is to unmake me also."

Talons broke out of his fingers as Manwë's grip on himself tightened, tearing into snowy skin with blood-red fury. 

"We were brothers, Varda, brothers in the mind of Ilúvatar. We were made from the same thought, two sides of the same coin. We were supposed to create together... and then were made to oppose one another. Melkor was the first being I ever perceived, his light was the first thing I ever saw, he was part of my purpose... and if I couldn't save him, what remains of it is also void." 

His breath quickened. His fána shook like a leaf in a storm. 

"I could only endure his banishment because I hoped — I believed — that when he returned from Void I could fix my mistakes and finally make everything whole again, as was Father's task and design for me. But I couldn't. I have failed him, Varda. And I am sorry." 

"Come home with me. Please." Varda's voice was unusually quiet, pleading, imploring him, and Manwë felt as though he was drowning in guilt, knowing that he wasn't going to. He was going to hurt her too, and it was wrong and unjust, but he couldn't continue like this any longer. 

The path he was going to take was his and his alone, and the only thing he could do was to hopefully make her understand why he couldn't come home with her. 

His hands dropped to his thighs, wet with tears. Manwë stared at them for a few moments, gathering his strength, then lifted them to his chest and raised his head to face Varda. His robes were easily shredded by sharp talons and his fána gave way when his fingers dug deep inside his own chest to tear himself open until she could see his bleeding, weakly twitching heart. 

"Behold what has been dying for a long time, kept alive only through duty and the love of others," Manwë whispered. "Yet no longer shall I be a burden and I will not appear again until my ëala is whole once more. What remains of my love, all that I have left to give, shall be with you. Forgive me, beloved." 

Thus the Elder King himself at last abandoned the shape that had faithfully walked upon Arda since the earliest days, leaving all that remained of him in the hands of his queen, and vanished like a gust of wind. 

— 

Manwë couldn't tell how long it had been since he had passed the Walls of Night; time didn't exist in the empty and endless Void, just like within the cosmic cradle of the Timeless Halls whence the Ainur had come. 

Neither did he know what he was hoping to find, knowing that his brother's days of wandering this realm were over. 

Even so, it seemed like a good place to go for one as painfully incomplete as he was. At the very least he would be doing penance for what he had done to his own brother, carrying out the council's judgement after he had failed to bring him back from the path of evil. 

Was this how Melkor had felt once? This never-ending pain of missing something? Was this what had driven him to rage and madness? Manwë had no answers to that, and the only one who could have answered him was not there. 

The other Valar had attempted to find him, but he had evaded them. His words to Varda had been final, and he believed himself unworthy of rescue after his numerous failings. Even his father's commands he wouldn't be able to follow at this time, if he could hear him where he was. Eru had neither called upon him nor answered his prayers ever since the Second Music, and Manwë accepted it as another part of his punishment. 

His spirit — first flying through empty space, then floating slowly — finally came to a halt. There was infinity out here, he knew, one couldn't search even if he had another eternity to do so, yet his strength was waning. Manwë was far away from the world he was bound to, weak and shaken after destroying his own fána; if the Powers were meant to be young again, he had failed at that too. The fatigue and exhaustion he felt was ancient like Varda's stars. 

He yearned for them. He yearned for her. But Manwë knew he couldn't bear to stay in Arda Healed any longer, if ever again. 

When he stood still, so did the only modicum of time. When he forgot himself, nothing existed out here. 

Tempted by oblivion, Manwë thought of the Secondborn, their gift of death and how Námo had foretold that even the Valar would one day envy them. Had Melkor in the end understood what no other Ainu ever had? Had Eru attempted to show him mercy by letting him be unmade? 

There was a light approaching him, too bright in the darkness of the Void. Manwë believed it to be a figment of his own imagination, recognising within it neither his wife nor his father, but something familiar... something soothing. 

It reminded him of the first light he had ever seen.  

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @melkors-defense-attorney @singleteapot @stormchaser819 @wandererindreams @manweweek

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Kinktober 2024 - Intoxicated Sex (Wet dreams & mind control)

@the-red-butterfly, my dear friend...here is another brandnew pairing for me that I've only written for you! Elwing is an Eldritch horror, Eärendil doesnt mind.

Prompts: Intoxicated Sex (Wet dreams & mind control)

Pairing: Elwing x Eärendil

Words: 565

Warnings: Mind control, intoxication of a sort, undue influence, wet dreams. sex dreams

Lulled by the gentle song of the nearby sea, Eärendil slept peacefully until the stars overhead were at their brightest.

Little by little, his dreams shifted from the gentle rocking of the waves to the churning, unchartered depths below.

She was there—she was everywhere. Her face already haunted his every waking moment, and now he couldn’t escape her otherworldly allure even in his most innocent slumber.

In his young life, Eärendil had witnessed and experienced enough incredible things not to be overly fazed by his beloved’s distinctly eerie qualities.

There was a light in her eyes that drew him in like a lost ship following the homing beacon of a faraway island.

Buckling under the burden of his own blood, he understood that Elwing couldn’t outrun her heritage and all it entailed any more than the rest of them.

While he was writhing helplessly under his thin, worn blanket, his mind was led down a tortuous path that shouldn’t even have been accessible to one such as him.

Enmeshed in his subconscious visions, halfway between a nightmare and a fantasy, he saw Elwing—gloriously, unapologetically naked and smiling brightly—flowing around him like the ocean, caressing his calves and thighs playfully.

Like a rising tide, her warmth soon engulfed him to his hips, and Eärendil gasped for air as one fully submerged by the maddening maelstrom of illicit passion.

Flailing and buckling, he lost himself in a dream so vivid, that it could only be due to the uncanny, unfathomable talents of the woman he so desired.

Kneeling beside him on the cold, hard ground, Elwing smiled.

She’d been wrenched from her parents too early to have been warned and instructed about the terrible, sensual power she’d developed after having left behind her childhood in her destroyed native lands.

Consequently, she didn’t hesitate to wield her insidious might ruthlessly, projecting pictures of herself as she yearned to be into the befuddled mind of the hapless sleeper at her side.

The young prince was handsome and kind, and she wanted him.

It pleased her to look upon his flushed face and watch the treacherous stain between his legs grow wider and wetter with every passing moment—he liked the images arising uninvited before his inner eye.

The camp and everyone within was fast asleep, so she undressed quietly and gently pinned his wrists to the soft, mossy soil to keep him from robbing her of her imminent triumph by a desperate, unconscious intervention of his own.

She could feel the intoxicating effect of her trespass course through his veins, making his blood pulsate frantically through his strong body, and she had to suppress a moan of utter delight.

As Eärendil’s eyes flew open to reveal the vague gaze of one in the throes of a mind-altering, disarming influence, Elwing gave him a soothing smile.

“I dreamt of you—you were gorgeous,” he whispered, lifting a trembling hand to her bare chest as if to make sure he was indeed awake now.

Elwing felt the song of the sea and the mellow melodies of the night sky thrum along her nerves as she took hold of the engorged, leaking cock she’d laid bare.

“Thank you,” she purred before letting her heart, spirit, and body be flooded by the subtle magic she’d woven around them.

As they moved under the stars, fate was rewritten by invisible hands.

@tolkienpinupcalendar <3

Thank you so much for reading!

☞ Masterlist

[veras1ne]

“The Brightest Star”

Summary ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Stargazing with Anakin was no unusually scene, but tonight was different resulting in comfortable silence, loving touches, and love-laced words.

🫧 Pairing☆⋅⋆ Anakin Skywalker/Reader -ˋˏ Gender Neutral! As always <3 ˎˊ

Warnings 🦢 II 🐾 References to love bites AKA hickeys, and some hand holding!

Thank you guys for all the love on “Heaven is any place with you.” I hope you guys love this one just as much!! Kisses everyone, and remember to leave any requests, thoughts or love in my asks/inbox!! Love ya ,, Vera🫶🏻🫶🏻

There was no denying that Coruscant was a busy planet. From the never-silent city to the everlasting hub of culture and the arts, alongside the large city came the even larger scene of politics.

While many would agree that politics could be harsh and lacking in ethics, being in the Senate had its perks, such as nights like these spent in your apartment with your dearest general Skywalker.

Sneaking around your own complex in order to spend nights with your beloved Jedi was not ideal; peaceful dates and small, rushed kisses turned into passionate whispers, love bites and hour-long conversations you had grown to love and long for. Similarly, a dinner date in your apartment quickly became hushed giggles and hurried touches in the night guided by the light of Coruscant’s moons as you ran to be the first to arrive at your large balcony, attempting to compete with Anakin’s large strides, which, by method of playful pushes and unfair distractions, you had not won.

"It’s not fair, Ani; you always win because you cheat!" Your breath was rapid and lacking rhythm, but your voice was laced with joy and laughter. "It’s not cheating if there were never any rules." Although his voice was playful, you knew he truly meant what he said. "Oh, stop it, Anakin even if there were rules, you’d be the first one to break them," you snickered. Rules were never Ani’s thing, not when he was a padawan, and certainly not now as he’s grown into a man of his own design. His chuckles filled your ears as he shook his head in disagreement. "Please, you sound like Master Kenobi, and it’s not ideal for me to think about him while I’m kissing you," he breathed out snarkily, smiling as speeders flew past Coruscant’s buildings, while your fingers intertwined with Anakin’s rough, callused ones.

You were no stranger to occasionally stargazing with Anakin, but tonight felt different. The winds were calm, and the only sounds that could be heard were the buzzing of nearby vehicles passing by and the slurring of drunk individuals below waiting to get a ride.

Words often were not needed to enjoy your time with him, but the comfortable silence came to an end as your voice piped up, "Do you think the stars ever get lonely?" Your voice was hushed and quiet, but loud enough for only the both of you to hear as your head turned to face his, taking note of how his chest moved rhythmically with each breath, enjoying the peaceful night he was having and basking in your presence, not wishing for it to end. "With over 400 billion stars in our galaxy, I certainly wouldn’t. But then again, I’m not sure I’d worry about the others so much, not when I’m with you." His voice dripped with sincerity, pursing his lips and wetting them to speak once more, all while his eyes never left the sky

"Even with over 400 billion stars in our galaxy, you still shine to me as the brightest."

[rhaenyrsa]

This was a new thing for her, as it was for everyone, she assumed. However, on top of having this . . . tadpole, she believed they called it, inside of her head, she was in a new land. This is what she gets for leaving King's Landing. She was told to wait, and now she's stranded, her beloved dragon's whereabouts unknown, and all she can do is follow these people around until there's a cure. Then, she'll worry about making it home.

He was odd, a seemingly fearless thing with a penchant for both backstabbing and constantly being afraid of being backstabbed. Still, he makes his way over to the fire and Rhaenyra makes room for him. Astarion was his name, she remembers, lips pressed together as he sits beside her.

“ At least we can see the stars from here. I, for one, thought I might never see them again. ” She misses the view from her home — though, she must admit, the unobstructed view was beautiful. It was the same sky, but it was different. She liked it. “ When you look at the sky from my home, the lights of the city only let you see the brightest of stars. It's strange to think I'd never have seen this if none of this happened. ”

@palespawn: If you never saw the stars, candles were enough.

“ A lovely metaphor, but I could still see the sky, you know. ” She's able to finally crack a smile, pulling her legs up to her chest. Rather unladylike, but none of her future subjects were here to see it. “ I don't know. Maybe a better one would be, look for the good even in the worst situation? ” If they were turned to mind flayers, there would be no stars or candles. Just bad. “ Are you from here? Do the stars look like this where you live? ”

[ourbeloved1011]

#personal #xz'sbirthday

I've had such a busy day today. I've spent 4.5 hours on the road driving back & forth for work. And it's xiaozhan's 32nd birthday today.

Zhan ge, you're right.

The sunset is very beautiful, just like every evening I used to focus only on moving forward while I missed the chance to appreciate it.

This year, I'm willing to stop for a beautiful sunset. Just like how your beloved dd did.

Sincerely wishing you to have a lifetime of happiness watching sunset, stars, pouring rain, blue sky & white cloud together with your one and only brightest 🌟

Happiest 32nd birthday, dear my brightest ☀️☺️

Thanks for inspiring me to grow & keep moving forward ❤️

Missing them 🥹 He never look at others the same way he look at his dd, huh

[ineffablemossy]

Flufftober / Good Omentober Day 1

Mashing up the fluff and GO prompts because I love my fluffy celestial beings <3 Posting on AO3 tomorrow as its late now, I'm as tired as a hard-working angel

Prompt: I got you / Pre-Fall

Words: 2419

Rating: Teen I guess (SFW, kissing only)

---

They padded down the long, bright corridor, the white flagstones cool under their feet. Leaning round pillars and corners as they moved lightly on the balls of their feet. A shock of ruby curls bounced around their ears as they half-ran to and fro.

"Stars, where are you? Uhh, I hate these offices, go on forever and ever just boring white, white, pale white, off-white, bone white, bright white..." Raphael stopped and sighed, planting their hands on their hips. "Aziraphale! Where are yo.. oh!" They called out and turned, spotting an opening in the sheer white wall. Through the doorway, they could see a desk piled high with parchments and scrolls.

Grinning, they approached the entrance slowly, dragging their fingers on the smooth surface of the wall as they peered in. On the desk amid the stacks of documents, soft white curls peeked out. Something fluttered in their chest. Oh, now that's a nice white, white as the brightest star. They let out a soft hum, the heart beating in their corporation suddenly feeling twice as big as a moment before.

Raphael took only three steps to reach the desk, their long gainly legs almost dancing across the room. They knelt down to better see the chaos around the Principality and chuckled softly. Some of the papers had toppled, falling over the angel's head which lay unmoving, cheek pressed against the translucent surface. Aziraphale was half sprawled across the desk, one hand still holding onto a quill. His back rose and fell slowly. Raphael rested their forearms on the edge of the desk and leaned towards the peaceful, sleeping face of their beloved. Aziraphale let out the softest of snores, and Raphael scrunched their face in delight.

"Look at you," they whispered, "you're gorgeous."

They raised a hand to move the fallen bits of parchment from Aziraphale's sleeping form, then gently plucked the quill from his hand. The angel snorted a half-snored intake of breath then let out a long, low moan of displeasure, brow furrowing. Raphael moved to smooth the brilliant curls, making soothing noises.

"Shhh sshhh, it's alright Angel. You fell asleep, you must be exhausted," said Raphael. They didn't habitually sleep, but sometimes these new corporations they'd been issued with seemed to get very weary. It would all settle down in time, they'd been reassured, just a matter of getting used to it.

Aziraphale huffed and moved his forearms under his head, glaring up at Raphael through tousled hair and dust motes from the papers. He closed his eyes and pressed his head into the redhead's palm. And huffed again.

"What have you been up to? I expected to see you ages ago. I guess you've been buried in plans for Earth, hmmm?" Raphael grinned and wiggled their eyebrows. Aziraphale moaned in response, but they could see his ears move with a smile hidden behind those robust arms.

Raphael bounced up and circled the desk, placing a delicate hand on the other angel's back, between the shoulder blades. Aziraphale felt warm, even through their robes. He always felt warm, it made it feel so cosy being next to him. He was like a tiny Sun all for them, and when he smiled at them, well. It made them feel all shimmering and liquid inside, like a brand-new nebula shifting and twinkling in a perfect sky.

"So...much...paperwork..." Aziraphale's voice was muffled by his sleeves. Raphael slipped their hands down and around his waist, giving a gentle tug.

"Come on Angel. You need some rest. The paperwork will be here later," their voice dropped to a mumble, "s'not like anyone else is going to do it for you."

Aziraphale either didn't hear it pretended not to, and pushed himself up off his arms. He turned towards the tall angel, eyes hooded and dark with sleepiness. Raphael giggled and reached up to peel a scrap of parchment that had stuck to his cheek. Aziraphael cleared his throat and half smiled up at them.

"My dear, what are you doing here? Has so much time passed already? I am sorry if I missed our rendez..." he yawned widely, "vous."

"Oh don't be a silly angel, I knew you'd be here," they gestured widely towards the long corridor, "somewhere. Come on now, let's get you up." They tugged at Aziraphale's waist again with one arm, holding out the other to catch his hand.

Aziraphale pushed back in the chair and rose, enveloping the angel's slender hand in his own. Raphael saw him blush and turn towards the doorway.

"Oh no. I don't. I don't want anyone to see me taking my leave on work time though. That's why I stayed here, I was only going to rest my eyes for a moment. I should stay, I really MUST stay." He turned back towards the desk. Raphael tugged on his hand and bit their lip to stop the exasperated sigh that rose unbidden.

"Oh no you don't! You are coming with me!" They said firmly. Aziraphale spun back around, eyebrows knitting together and lips pursed in annoyance.

"Raphael it's not so simple! You know the rules, we..." he stopped as Raphael placed a long finger against his lips.

"Sssh, now, tired angel. Stroppy angel," they winked at him mischievously and rubbed their thumb across his knuckles, feeling the wide strong bones found there. "I know a place. No one ever goes there, I promise." Aziraphale sighed heavily them met their gaze, all the fight and heat drained out of his face.

"Promise? You're sure?"

"Absolutely! Just a couple of..." they looked up and waved their spare hand around, "Ngh I don't know. Units of time, we've not really nailed down a name for them yet. But you know, a couple of units let's say. Then you'll feel all better, and no one will have noticed a thing."

They looked down at him, tilting their head forward with wide eyes, and blinked a few times in succession. "Pleeease..."

Aziraphale blushed again as he met their gaze. "Alright then, but just for a little while!" He rushed out the words.

Raphael wiggled on the spot, feeling very pleased with themself. Squeezing that big, strong hand they led Aziraphale to the doorway before popping their head around the edge and looking both ways. The corridor was empty in both directions.

"All clear, come on!" Raphael said. They rushed through the doorway, hopping along the shiny floor as though it prickled their soles. They turned back the way they'd come in, heading in the vague direction of the stairwell.

They turned around, feeling Aziraphale's hand heavy in theirs. The angel was yawning again and they couldn't help tilting their head and letting out a soft sound of adoration. When they turned back, the door to the stairwell was suddenly in front of them.

"I'll never understand your offices, Angel." They pushed through the door and the two angels found themselves in a white and grey space, with stairs spiralling up and down. Raphael looked over the railing and shivered when they saw the gloomy blackness swallowing up the stairs far below.

"Right, we're going up. Come on Angel! It's not too far."

"I do hope not or I might just fall asleep right here on the stairs," Aziraphale said tritely. They started up the stairs together, side by side.

"Mm, don't think that'd be too comfy. What I've got in mind is much better." They flashed a smile at their companion.

After a few turns around and up the spiral, the stairway narrowed. They ascended one more flight and found themselves in front of a nondescript grey door.

"This is it," Raphael fizzed inside. They loved showing their Angel new things, little secrets they found here and there across the Universe. It made them feel something divine when they shared these moments. They raised their hand to the door and pushed, leading Aziraphale in by the hand.

The door closed behind them, and it was dark. A warm, velvet dark that lapped over them.

"Let there be light," Raphael whispered and made the tiniest motion. It was important that no one find this place, so they used the tiniest miracle they could. A small orb appeared in their hands glowing just enough to show them the floor and close surroundings.

They started forward again with Aziraphale trailing very close behind. They could feel his breath on the back of the neck. It sent tingles down their spine.

The shape of a doorway materialised out of the shadows and they stepped through. There was more light here, and Raphael snuffed out the light. They drew Aziraphale forward and snugged their arm around his waist. He was looking at them quizzically.

"Angel, look up," said Raphael and they both craned their heads back. Aziraphale gasped then.

Above them, the ceiling was not high. But it was entirely made of glass. Beyond the transparent canopy, the Vaults of Heaven were laid out in all their glory. The dark sky shifted through shades of dark blue, to purple, to almost black, with ribbons of lilac and pink and green meandering across the firmament. Golden stars twinkled, scattered across the vista like thousands of tiny lamps straining to shine the brightest. It was a singular, ethereal beauty. Despite all the work Raphael had done creating star systems, nebulas, and novas; there was still something a bit special about that view. The light coppery hairs on their arms prickled and stood up at the sight.

"Whaddya think?" They whispered.

"It's.. it's.. just divine! Beautiful!" Aziraphale paused for a moment. "Gorgeous, even!" Raphael grinned from ear to ear.

"I hoped you'd like it."

"Oh, I do. Very, very much." Aziraphale turned towards them, a contented smile creasing his eyes. "Thank you so much dearest! It really is wonderful!" Raphael felt their cheeks heating up.

"Aha, and that's not all!" They moved further into the room, easier to see as their eyes adapted to the low light. The room didn't appear well kept, strewn with a variety of oddly shaped dark shadows. Some of them looked like boxes.

In The middle was a particularly large shadow. Raphael smiled and reached down, clutching a large piece of fabric and pulling dramatically. They spun round and let the fabric flutter down to the ground, revealing a dusty, but soft-looking chaise longue with plush navy blue velvet.

"Now, come over here Angel," they stretched out their hand. Aziraphale took a few steps and then lurched forward, arms flailing.  Raphael rushed towards him a step and felt the full force of the angel slam into them. They toppled backwards, tripping in turn against the end of the bed.

"Ouf!" Aziraphale said as he fell on top of the fiery-haired angel, who had instinctively wrapped their arms around his shoulders. "Oh darling, I'm so sorry. I tripped on something." He tried to raise himself up but Raphael tightened their arms around him, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

"S'alright Angel, I've got you," Raphael whispered into Aziraphale's ear and nuzzled into his soft curls. The smell of him was intoxicating. They felt him relax into their embrace, their breath rising and falling together.

"We should probably move a little dearest," Aziraphale's voice was muffled again, this time by Raphael's robes. "Shame to not make full use of this lovely spot you've found."

"Mm, I suppose you're right. I was just, you know, enjoying this for a moment." Raphael unwrapped their arms to release the angel, then scooted up onto the recliner which was practically a bed. Conveniently sized for two angels in fact. They leaned back and beckoned to Aziraphale with wide open arms.

Aziraphale climbed onto the bed on both knees and almost crawled upwards towards them. The sight made them feel giddy and glad to be lying down already. The Principality leaned over, planting a thick arm roped with muscle on each side of their fire-crowned head. They licked their lips, taking in as much detail as they could in the dim half-light. Looking up, they found Aziraphale's gaze. His eyes sparkled, shifting tones of grey and dark blue. Feeling his tender smile beaming down at them Raphael thought they might just discorporate there and then.

Aziraphale shifted and Raphael felt his hand against their cheek. Their breath hitched in response to the touch.

"You never cease to amaze me, my dearest darling Raphael." The angel's voice was warm. "My existence wouldn't be nearly as interesting without you."

Then they felt their lover's breath hot on their face, and they reached up to swing their arms around his back.

"Come here Angel."

Aziraphale dipped and they felt his soft, plush lips meet theirs. Sparks shivered through their limbs as they kissed, contented sounds escaping them. They closed their eyes, losing themself in the moment, in the warmth and love rolling off of their Angel's mouth and tongue. When Aziraphale broke their touch Raphael sighed into the space between them. They brushed noses affectionately, and they couldn't help but grin lazily when their beloved shifted to place a soft kiss on their forehead.

"I do love doing that you know," Aziraphale murmured into their hair.

"Mm, me too. S'great" Raphael replied. "But you should be getting some rest now. Come and lie down here." They patted the velvet beside them. "We can kiss some more next time you're free and not falling asleep under paperwork!" They teased.

Aziraphale shifted to lie down and they both looked up at the star-lined vista above them. Raphael wriggled closer, nestling into Aziraphale's shoulder and breathing deeply, trying to inhale the very scent of him, to capture the olfactive memory of the moment.

They shook out their wings then and draped one across the both of them. Aziraphale slid an arm under their neck and reached down to stroke the downy feathers st their shoulder blades.

"That you my dear, that's very nice. Very, what was it that word you found again? Cosy?"

"Mm, yeah, cosy," they sighed, tingles running through them as the angel's fingers stroked their feathers.

They both looked up in silence at the celestial skyscape, their breathing gradually slowing.

"I think I might quite like to come here again, with you darling." Aziraphale's voice was thick and heavy with sleep.

"Me too Angel, me too."

Raphael heard gentle snores and smiled happily. Then, tucked up warm and cosy and loved, they closed their eyes and slept.

---

tagging @disaster-dog thank you for the pre-Fall prompt!

[doomstarmagician]

bUt wHAtt if THeY kIsSeD? (I had to please I’m sorry Doomie!)

@mahoushojoumonster | Meme

What if, in another life…

There was a peculiar energy that bloated the air around them, thick like encroaching miasma and yet warm like the gentle embrace of soft sunlight. Excitement, that’s what it was. To no one’s surprise, the source of such infectious energy was Doomstar himself. The Geminid meteor shower was set to soar through the December night sky, and it went without saying that the starry-eyed magician was prepping his equipment for when that night descended upon the realm.

Overlooking a small lake that jutted outwards to the greater expanse of sea sat a house, cozy and picturesque. The waterfront view was breathtaking, and the sky above was clear and grand. Removed from urban population, there were no skyscraper constructs to obscure the view, and no city lights to blind sensitive eyes from the wonders of space that would surely grace them with its ethereal magnificence soon enough. Inside the house was where the commotion lay. There was the squeaking of permanent marker against the glossy paper stock of a calendar. One final ‘X’ had been crossed through another day, marking the end of Doomstar’s wait. Tonight was a special night, marked by the arrival of the Geminid meteor shower.

But more than that, it was date night. What better way to spend the date in the presence of your favorite person with the company of the stars to light up the night?

He was meticulous in ensuring everything was perfect for his date. It didn’t matter how long he and his Best Girl were together, Doomstar believed in keeping the spark alive as if they were two lovestruck teenagers who just discovered what being in love for the first time felt like. A large, fluffy blanket had been laid out in the grass, and plush pillows were there to cushion them as they sat like royalty under the night sky. Food had been carefully plated and drinks were poured in abundance, because the mere thought of not sharing a meal with his beloved made him want to shrivel up and waste away.

Of course that was his stomach talking.

On standby stood his telescope, sharp and sleek and state of the art. With all the tinkering and modifications he had made, seeing the Geminids up close and crystal clear was nothing but a walk in the park to him. When the sun had finally dipped below the horizon and the stars revealed themselves, Doomstar’s excitement was palpable; and when the first streak of light glimmered across the night sky, he knew it was time. With a firm, but careful touch, he took Mana’s hand in his, pulling them both up with an overjoyed “come on!”

“My lady,” he murmured and held her hand up to his lips, brushing them against the softness of her skin before pressing a warm, gentle kiss to it. “It’s only right that you go first.”

And she did. Doomstar watched Mana with a deep fondness, feeling a familiar warmth spread through his chest that threatened to overwhelm him at times, yet he still welcomed with open arms. The wonder in her gaze, the softness in her expression, he couldn’t help but feel the air be sucked from his lungs. So this was what they meant by loving so fiercely it takes one’s breath away…

It was only when she had stepped back from the telescope to give him a turn, that Doomstar realized he could only stand there, staring, mesmerized and captivated and feeling so, so soft for her. Yes, the meteor shower was well underway, and naturally it was a sight to behold but… so was she. The way the moonlight seemed to frame her form in its soft, inviting silver glow, the way the backdrop of stars seemingly formed a crown atop her head, why… Mana was the brightest star of them all.

“Oh, goddesses help me. How can I ever hope to look up when I have you before me, my love?” His tone was light, affectionate, filled with all the adoration he felt for her. Stepping forward, he couldn’t help but bypass the telescope and bring his hands up to cup her face instead.

Thumbs caressing her cheeks in gentle, soothing motions, Doomstar leaned in and peppered her face with kisses. Her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, even her eyelids, he made sure she understood who the real star of tonight was. And only when he had finished such a teasing, gentle gesture did one hand dip to her lower back, bringing her closer to him, while his other hand moved to her chin, tilting her head up so he could finally press his lips to hers. It was with that kiss, deep and lingering, that he poured all of his love into. His touch was reverent, his hands were warm against the softness of her skin, and more than anything… his heart was full.

[ithinkimtiarah]

Untitled

"You are a star," my mother would say.

I know it—I am a star.

But what does it truly mean to be one? There are billions of us, each one glittering in its own way, yet we all seem so... distant. I was a star, but he, he was the moon—beloved, adored by all.

But here's the thing: the moon doesn't shine like we do. You might argue, “But the moon does shine!”

But is that really what makes it loved?

What does the moon do, anyway? It simply exists.

And in its quiet existence, it draws us near. Because it is close, we can love it without fear, without restraint. The people on Earth—they worship the moon, the one who lights their nights, who offers them warmth, who brings them peace. The moon is always there, always close, a constant by choice.

Then there’s the sun—the largest star, the brightest, the fiercest. But does its light ever touch you? Does its radiance warm you, or does it only scorch? How often have you blamed it for being too much, too far away, for burning relentlessly in the sky? The sun, the brightest of them all, is never romanticized the way the moon is.

And what of the moon’s beauty? How is it that it shines brighter than me? Without my light, it is nothing—just dust and rock. I am the reason it glows. And yet, I am the one always striving, always seeking to blend in with the others, always hiding in the shadow of my own light. The difference between us, the way I am not like the others, makes me feel unseen, unchosen, unworthy.

No matter how I burn, no matter how I shine—I will always be the star. And you, you will always be the moon.