#so thank you unknown artist
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coline7373 · 7 months ago
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« Cody
 why? »
I often end up with different versions of the same work and cant let go of one or the other so, here.
Have both.
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hyakunana · 2 months ago
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"Anyone can find happiness. That's the world we're striving for!"
#kamen rider#kamen rider geats#jyamato awaking#michinaga azuma#haruki usagami#fanart#artists on tumblr#comics#kr geats#the more I think about this movie the more I think it was specifically made to cater my needs of a decade ago#because listen— perhaps my weakest spot in fiction is family drama and most of my fav chars have some siblinghood#especially if one of the siblings is a child with unknown powers that needs to be saved or sth like that#but michi managed to become my fav geats char (and so far i daresay my fav rider overall) without any family mention#his first impression was super strong tho and i tend to cling onto those — i'll give him that#while right behind him I have keiwa and sara — which if you ask me i identify myself a lot on sara#then the master micchi special gives 5 secs of family drama onto him aND THEN WE HAVE THIS MOVIE#ENTIRELY CENTERED IN THIS JYAMATO CHILD DOOMED TO BECOME THE DESTROYER OF FUTURE#THAT CULMINATES ON THE JYAMASTAINED HUMAN PROMISING TO TAKE CARE OF THE JYAMAORPHAN#I just didn't cry bc i was on call w my friend thanking foxjesus for giving the banquet i've been starving for#some minutes before the hug scene i was like "PLEASE GEATS LET MICHI HUG THE KID I KNOW I'VE BEEN ASKING YOU A LOT BUT JUST THIS ONCE#and i mention my needs of a decade ago bc of my ygo zexal times when i used to siblingship haruto and mizael EXACTLY LIKE THAT!!!!#LOOK IF IT ISNT MY FAV CHAR STARTING WITH 'MI' AND AN ENEMY FACTION POWERED 'HARU' CHILD
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catofoldstones · 1 year ago
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Lady as the priest’s favourite sacrificial lamb - so docile and sweet and I hold very still when they put the rope around my neck
Bran I - AGOT // Wolf in the Moonlight by Fredric Remington - 1909 // St. Francis Comforted by an Angel by Francisco Ribalta - 1620 // Sansa I - AGOT // Akela the Lone Wolf by Maurice and Edward Detmold for Rudyard Kipling’s The Jungle Book - 1903 // Sansa I - AGOT // Eddard III - AGOT// A Dead Wolf by Jan Fyt // Eddard III - AGOT // The Sacrificial Lamb by Josefa de Ódibos - 1684
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unknown-uno · 27 days ago
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"The Macguire Express"
For these past few days I've been conversing with the wonderful @the-star-and-the-smols ! Engaging in much MUCH brain-rot of RDR2, G/T AND one particular character within the game. <3 Truly Cassidy's ideas are ones to marvel and the illustration you see before you is one of them - Sean being the utter ladies man that he is, takes the gals out of camp and carries them into town (before boredom kills them). Using a transportation he calls "The Macguire Express".
(Thank you so much Cass for supplying such UNBELIEVABLE amounts of ideas, inspiration and fuel for this awfully specific fixation its been nothing short of incredible!)
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cleverreports · 4 months ago
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We report: this is one we saw while lying on our back. We were determined to keep our mind as empty as possible, and so we made it our task to let our eyes follow it through its journey. It was a slow one. Our neck feels somewhat tender. Our mind is suitably empty.
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intpstyle · 1 year ago
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Doodles for/while listening to Hozier's "Unreal Unearth".
God, I love this album
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hopeinthebox · 1 year ago
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tagged by the tastemaker @cordiallyfuturedwight for the july list 💕 Category 5 Breakdown in the tags as per usual but tagging some favs if you fancy a go @aprylynn @thvinyl @monismochi @banghwa @pauls-mccharmly @avizou mwah
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vellichorius · 1 year ago
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ROSE AND HOZIER ??? ROZIER ???
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you know I’m good on my own 🍃
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tripably · 10 months ago
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happiness is stored in fanfiction - sometimes, specifically, in the author's response to your lil comment on their art-transcending fic <3
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norrisainz33 · 23 days ago
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bubble || LN4
☆ summary: internet sleuths find out that lando norris has been flirting with and potentially dating a relatively unknown singer
☆ pairing: lando norris x singer!reader
☆ fc & warnings: zinadelphia & slightly suggestive. you are responsible for the content you consume
☆ requested: nope!
. ✿ à­šâ€ïžŽà­§â €âœż . 
f1gossip has made a post
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liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, yourbff and 18,345 others
f1gossip: it’s been brought to our attention by an anonymous user that our lando norris has been caught seemingly flirting in the comment sections (for at least the past 24 weeks based off the time stamps) with a small american artist, y/n y/l/n. he’s the only driver that follows her and has been consistently in her comment section hyping her up and calling her things like “gorgeous”, “talented” and “pretty.” what do you all make of this?
view all 653 comments
user1: oh my god lando????
user14: i’ve never once heard of this girl?
user2: how did we not know about this for the past 24 weeks guys wtf
user4: no like seriously
. seems like something we should have known already
user3: wait her music is really good tho đŸ„č
user7: her song mirrorball??? the girl has some vocals wow
user4: just looked her up and she’s beautiful
 i see what he’s seeing
yourbff: screaming my head off at this
user1: and who are you??? do you know y/n??
f1gossip: check your dms yourbff
user5: she’s using him for fame!
user4: considering we all just found out about her
. imma go ahead and say no she’s not
user6: now how do i make this about me đŸ™‚â€â†”ïž
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ynuser has added to their story
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view all story the replies
user1: ooooo orange or papaya ???
yourbff: girl you fueling the flames with this post 😂💀
ynuser: HAHA i know
 i got 24k new followers in the past 2 days since you sent me that post by f1gossip and figured id have some fun with it since there’s no hiding now
yourbff: who knew meeting that guy randomly in europe 6 months ago was going to turn out like this
ynuser: certainly not me girl. remember when i thought he was some weirdo who was just trying to hit on me in the bar??
yourbff: bc he had no rizz but max and p really swooped in and saved him and now look at you đŸ„č
ynuser: my perfect little no rizz baby boy đŸ„č love of my life đŸ€­
landonorris: it’s papaya baby
ynuser: i couldn’t be too obvious now could i?
landonorris: nah go on then be obvious
ynuser: oh you want me to post you?
landonorris: yeah specifically that one pic you took of us in the mirror last night
ynuser: LANDO that is for OUR eyes only
landonorris: right yes
landonorris: i still think you should post me
ynuser: i don’t know if i want to burst our little bubble yet
landonorris: fair enough baby. you just tell me when! i’ve got paddock passes, pictures, plane tickets — everything lined up for when you’re ready
ynuser: đŸ„č😭 vegas? we go on our little vacation after im done my tour and you’re done in brazil and then pop the bubble?
landonorris: sounds great to me gorgeous but seriously no pressure
user2: my delusions are working over time
maxfewtrell: i’m trying so hard to defend your privacy and this is what you post
ynuser: what’s wrong with the color orange?
maxfewtrell: y/n
user3: ain’t ever seen you and lando in the same room but i somehow know yall doing it
user4: you’re so pretty and your outfits eat so hard wtf ïżœïżœ
user9: praying this is a new song lyric idk who these new fans are talking about lando this lando that 
. i need a new song
ynuser has made a post
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liked by youbff, yourfriend2, yoursibling, landonorris, maxfewtrell, ynupdates, and 54,235 others
ynuser: baby’s first headlining tour was a success! thank you to everyone who came out and sang along with me every night. i love you all dearly đŸ€ and for all the newbies here, welcome đŸ«¶đŸ»
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user1: oh she’s so cute
user2: starting a y/n fan club rn yall
yourbff: you are making those dreams come true bb girl
ynuser: trying to đŸ„č
yoursibling: cutie patootie i love you
ynuser: i love you more
user23: the peoples most beautiful princess đŸ€
user9: who are all you new people here
user2: lando norris fans. who are you?
user9: a y/n y/l/n fan. who is lando norris?
user2: a formula 1 driver!
user9: race cars?? i did not expect that

user8: taking note of lando and max in the likes
user4: also taking note of their lack of a comment
. lando has commented on every single one of her posts before the f1gossip post dropped
user16: i was there last night!!! best show ever!!! love you y/n
user19: i’m obsessed with those cherry earrings
landonorris has made a post
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liked by maxfewtrell, quadrant, mclarenf1, oscarpiastri, ynuser, alex_albon23, and 823,104 others
landonorris: a much needed break. vegas here we come baby
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user1: i don’t know where to look ,, at the wh*re in the first pic or the soft launch in the second my god 😼‍💹😍😭😔💀
user9: ok user2
 i get it now. also i’ve seen those white shoes in y/n’s posts before it’s def her
user2: omg you’re an icon for this
ynuser: dmn y’all really can identify me by my shoes?
user9: YN WHAT ARE YOU SOING HERE IM SORRY
user2: y/nlando confirmed
maxfewtrell: interesting choice of photos mate
landonorris: thanks! picked them myself
maxfewtrell: yeah clearly
pietra.pilao: đŸ€
landonorris: 🧡
user2: i’m speechless
user55: hey lando idk if u heard but there’s a lookalike contest happening in my room tonight. $59 cash prize
oscarpiastri: those aren’t max’s legs 👀
landonorris: you’d be correct
user12: this is monumental
user18: my favorite sinister, evil and orange little gremlin
user14: you’re gonna cook in vegas king
ynuser had posted to her story
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yourbff: this dress is eating in a way i didn’t think it would. i’m sorry for doubting you
ynuser: never doubt me đŸ˜€
lilyzneimer: had so much fun meeting you at dinner this evening!!! looking forward to spending the weekend with you at mclaren đŸ«¶đŸ»
ynuser: omg it was so fun getting dinner with you and oscar!! i’m so so so glad to have you as a buddy in the paddock. i was super nervous about it all
lilyzneimer: it can be very overwhelming at times but we’ve got you y/n!!
ynuser: that means so much to me đŸ„č
user9: mother is mothering 
 in vegas?????
user12: are you in vegas per chance?! for the formula 1 grand prix?! for lando norris?!
user2: i fr need style tips and grwm’s from you y/n. every time you post an outfit it moves me
landonorris: in my hotel room 😈
ynuser: you got it â˜đŸ» now hurry up and get back here
landonorris: trust me im hurrying
user8: i need someone to get you on a magazine cover stat
f1gossip has made a post
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liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, yourbff and 19,231 others
f1gossip: confirmed! y/n y/l/n, singer songwriter, is in las vegas with lando norris for the las vegas gp. this seems to be their first official weekend out together
view all 327 comments
user2: as someone who has been deeply invested since the beginning (3 weeks ago).. this is everything
user9: my girl đŸ„č
user10: i truly wonder how in the world they even met
 they’re such an interesting pair
user18: mclaren admin please ask him this weekend
user13: that should be me 😭
user24: ok wait guys im at the gp and y/n was walking through the paddock with lily and we waved her down because we had made some lando merch and she was honestly so sweet and stopped and took photos with us and chatted for way longer than she needed to. i truly hope she never changes she’s an angel
user21: this is so wholesome
user23: i fear she’s on track to become the people’s paddock princess in record time
user18: i have no one to send this to who will get it
mclaren has made a post
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liked by landonorris, ynuser, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, yourbff, and 432,444 others
mclaren: this weekends most requested interview just dropped! make sure to check out the full thing over on the mclaren app 🟠
view all 329 comments
user18: mclaren admin is a y/nlando girly confirmed
maxfewtrell: he’s leaving out the bit where i had to save him from completely bombing
landonorris: 😔 you’re not gonna let me live that down huh
ynuser: idk what would have happened if max didn’t come over and stop you from explaining why you hate fish so passionately
landonorris: babe please not on the public instagram
user2: lando norizz strikes again
landonorris: love when i get asked good questions like this!
user4: king said if one more person asks me abt wdc im gonna lose it. ask me abt y/n instead
user9: this is making it incredibly hard to gatekeep y/n
ynuser: that’s my man đŸ™‚â€â†”ïž
landonorris: damn right it is
user13: the mutual do you know who i am is lowkey so funny
landonorris has made a post
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liked by mclaren, ynuser, yourbff, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell, pierregasly, and 843,238
landonorris: thanks for being nice to me this time vegas!! oh and thanks for coming y/n 😈🏆
view all 854 comments
user12: i’m so proud of you lando
user9: wahooooo first race i watched and you won. i think me and y/n are good luck for you
mclaren: incredible drive lando! that’s our winner!!
ynuser: something about seeing you on that podium 😼‍💹
landonorris: oh you like that?
ynuser: yes đŸ€­
landonorris: alright podium finishes only from now on 😏
user19: oh you two are freaks i just know it
ln4: LFGGGGG
user13: congrats on the win and the hot gf 😭
carlossainz55: congrats lando!! and hi y/n!
ynuser: hi carlos đŸ€
maxfewtrell: much better post mate
landonorris: why thank you. i worked hard on this one
user2: a win and a hard launch = double win for me
. ✿ à­šâ€ïžŽà­§â €âœż . 
a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated đŸ«¶đŸ»
. ✿ à­šâ€ïžŽà­§â €âœż . 
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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hopeastrz · 3 months ago
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AQUARIUS THROUGH THE HOUSES: where you’re rebellious, the most outstanding and peerless individual.â‹†đŸ«â‹†đ™šâ‚ŠËšâŠčđŸȘŒâ™Ą
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CHECK OUT SEPTEMBER SALE: fixed price on any and all of my readings 17 DOLLARS only.
Aquarius is the sign of sudden changes, the sign of unpredictably and where we may feel like we don’t belong or have no desire of following the crowd, that’s why we end up getting repelled by that thing, and find ourselves breaking the rules to make our own path.
NOTE: enjoy this post and don’t forget to reblog, thank you for your support, lots of love xoxo!! ₊˚âŠčà±šà§ŽđŸ©”.
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AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 1ST HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° ON THE AC.
You may have felt the need to constantly change yourself, always have something unique going on, either a new hairstyle, haircut and maybe even naturally you have a unique face, you don’t follow the current fashion style, you have a distinctive sense of style and may prefer to wear vintage things from the past like, wear 90s makeup, or you have a keen eye with you spot trends before they even become a thing. you’re also the type to break traditional beauty standards and public image rules, that may be because you’ve been told and maybe even forced from a young age to act a certain way, project a certain persona of yourself or to possess certain mannerisms, that’s why you hate being picture perfect or just ordinary, you seek uniqueness and rebel in being yourself!, (having pluto on 11th or 10th house may cause that)
AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 2ND HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 2ND HOUSE.
Very unique way of handling money, you may have grown fed up with your parents perspective of money for example like: ‘you need to hard work for you money,’ or ‘money is so hard to get that’s why we’re financially unstable’, which stirred this untamed desire within you to challenge it and come up with new ideas to get money, you may work a unique source of money and you may love to keep old antiques!.
AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 3RD HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 3RD HOUSE.
You have always felt that you don’t belong in your community, your school (you’ve been unlike your peers, you didn’t follow them, which may have resulted in you being bullied or becoming a loner), or the place you grew up in aka your community and your place on the social pyramid, that’s why you took the matters in your own hands and sooner or later you’ll have this urge to change everything, you may feel this need to climb up your social status which could result in you moving to a rich neighborhood for example, change your environment entirely. You may also be the most unique sibling, they may be your step siblings or you just don’t look like them!.
AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 4TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 4TH HOUSE.
You didn’t want to follow your family’s path for you it seemed, you didn’t want to be like them or you just wanted to be very unique, your mother may have had some expectations for you but you didn’t want to even meet them. This placement may be prominent in the charts of new money wealth makers, you may change your family status drastically, and you may not want to be dependent on them or their resources.
AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 5TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 5TH HOUSE.
Very distinctive talents, you date the most unique people and maybe even have a very distinctive taste, you go to many underrated artists concerts, visit unique or unknown places during your vacations and also have some real different interests.
AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 6TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 6TH HOUSE.
You have a unique routine or a specific lifestyle, your parents may have been chaotic, which made you seek discipline in your life, or very strict which made you seek freedom, either way you have a very unique routine in the gym and in your daily life!, also you may have some unique pets and work ethic!, you may be known as the most creative one between your coworkers.
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AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 7TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 7TH HOUSE.
You are uniquely independent, the most distinctive partner, someone who came to break marriages stereotypes of your family or this generation!, you may hate the idea of codependency,having a traditional partner or relationship, which may result in you preferring not to marry at all!, there’s just something about marriages that you see worthless or just unnecessary, and you may prefer to be on your own, your freedom is your one and only love, since you may be traumatized by your own parents marriage. (Scorpio on the 4th house!.)
AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 8TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 8TH HOUSE.
Well well, the usual, you may have some unique kinks or sources of income, in other words your job may pay you some money but it won’t be your main source of income, you may know some unique taboo stuff or are interested in some real dark and underrated practices!, you also may be a very unique partner in bed!.
AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 9TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 9TH HOUSE.
You may feel like you don’t belong to your country, the era you are born in or you may feel very close to another culture than your own. Another thing is that you have been living in another country than the one your parents or you were born in!, I’ve seen this placement occur daily with natives who chose to immigrate and save their families or their own future. Also you may studied a very unique, specific major or went to a unique and underrated university.
AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 10TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 10TH HOUSE.
Your job is unique, and also your reputation, you may have a very weird and almost taboo public image, which may have nothing to do with the real you!, people say the most flabbergasting things about you, and the rumors you may hear about you make you question everything thing seriously from how bizarre they are lmao, also you may have a unique job of career!.
AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 11TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 11TH HOUSE.
You’re the most unique one in your friend group, or you just don’t befriend people who look like you, in my head i pictured a group of friends full of rockstars and then there’s you all sunshine and rainbows lmao. You also may have some very rebellious dreams you chase, things that people may feel like they’re impossible for you to achieve!, like to be a millionaire or billionaire!.
AQUARIUS OR URANUS IN THE 12TH HOUSE | AQUARIUS DEGREES 11°, 23° 12TH HOUSE.
You are the most unique when it comes to being spiritual, like these people are the best when it comes to spiritual advice or guidance, your parents may have been so religious or quite the opposite so you had to become spiritual on your own and make your own path, also you guys sleep.. weirdly????, pls stop tossing and turning😭!!.
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keferon · 3 days ago
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Eh okay so. My brain is absolutely cooked so you will probably just have to ignore the linguistic fuckups
Jazz and Prowl learning to communicate because language barrier is a thing >:D
Previous part
Jazz sometimes thinks that somewhere along his career path he lost the bar separating normal from...well...everything else.
After all he's seen, heard about, and done, he's not sure exactly how to measure what's weird and what's normal. He has..the general idea.
His own. And it's so convoluted and fucked up that he'd rather jump into a volcano than try to explain it to anyone else. Jazz thinks the little colorful aliens around him are weird as hell. He thinks they sound weird, he thinks they look weird, and he thinks he must be going crazy.
And then this big black and white robot catches his eye and Jazz's first thought is not "what the fuck??"
His first thought is
"Thank God! Someone's normal!"
Whoever this guy is, he sounds like he knows what he's doing. And most importantly, he looks just like Jazz. Well, not exactly. But close enough. After all, Jazz knows that his organization wasn't the only mech maker on the entire planet. Other countries were making Mechs too, and Jazz hadn't seen even half of them.
But he can recognize a giant robot when he sees one, okay?
The thought that another mech could be an alien doesn't even enter his mind.
So used to the constant presence of huge piloted robots around him, he looks at this one and clings to its appearance as something familiar and easily explainable. His brain says, we know how this works. There's a robot and inside the robot there's another person. It's the way it's always been. The sky is blue, the grass is green and the robots are human-piloted. It's that simple.
The guy takes him to the far corner of the room and says something. Jazz
doesn't understand..
The mech's face contorts in a surprisingly believable display of concentration. How...who built this robot? How could they make it frown?
He hears something else being said to him but again can't understand a word. Why won't this pilot get out of the mech to talk to him? Jazz doesn't have his communication frequency but surely they could at least shake hands. There must be some reason. Maybe something wrong with the air? Is it dangerous to be outside? This guy should know better, he's been here longer than Jazz, it seems.
(Damn it, whose idea was it to make a mech with a face, it's so distracting)
He rushes to activate the external speakers, because he and this guy obviously speak different languages, but it never hurts to try, right?
"So uh, I don't think you can understand English?"
Mech frowns again, trying to pick up on something familiar in a language that's apparently new to him. But finds nothing. Jazz lowers his horns sadly.
Oh well. Fuck. As if being stuck in an unknown place with unknown creatures wasn't enough, he can't even talk to anyone! How is he supposed to get out of here? Which way should he even go?
The mech waves his hand to get his attention and then pulls out a tablet and a stylus from..where ?
Jazz somehow manages to overlook the fact that the tablet is made to fit the mech's size. His head is still feels a bit
off..after that portal thingie.
"Charades it is then."
____________________
An hour and a half later, Jazz finds himself staring intensely at the screen in front of him with a surprisingly neatly drawn chart on it.
"So uh. Motion."
The other guy nods and starts drawing a walking mech. Then something that looks like a very unusual car. Then a submarine. Jazz gets a little lost looking at how skillful he is with the stylus.
Honestly, he's a good artist!
The guy points to the sketch of a walking mech and says
" Motion."
Then points to the drawing of a car driving and the columns of the chart.
"Motion-rotation" he points to the car again.
That must mean "driving" huh? Jazz nods understandingly.
Mech moves his finger to the submarine.
"Motion-Water."
Ah, it must mean swimming. Jazz nods once more, feeling like a wind-up dummy repeating the same motion a dozen times.
The mech makes a quiet humming noise and then points to the chart
"Motion. Sky."
And then gives Jazz the stylus?
Uh, what is he... Oh, he wants Jazz to figure out what it means.
"Motion" and "sky," right?
Jazz takes the stylus? Pencil? Thingie.. and very carefully draws out a crooked scribble of something only remotely resembling an airplane. The mech arches an eyebrow and looks like he wants to laugh.
Jazz shrugs awkwardly and tries to add windows to the airplane, but ends up making it look more like a severely fucked up caterpillar.
Mech snorts.
Jazz kicks him in the leg.
The airplane begs for a merciful death.
Jazz didn't really expect to get into a language class but he has to admit that whatever language he's learning now is a surprisingly easy one. It only took the other dude half an hour to show him the basic concept and from there it became a game of associations.
There were simple definitions. Like size, quantity, speed, emotion and so on.
There were signs that automatically turned the whole sentence into a question or a statement.
There were modifiers that Jazz defined in his head as positive and negative.
Positive speed - fast.
Positive size - large.
Positive direction - forward.
Positive time - future.
There were also basic words for senses, emotions and whatnot, also with modifiers.
Mouth-positive - to speak
Brain-positive - to think, but negative-brain-do-positive - to learn.
Huh.
And it's so neatly organized that Jazz wondered if this language was designed specifically to be easy to learn.
Let's see....
Mouth - positive, effort - negative.
"Easy to speak."
The guy nods contentedly and starts talking back, while pointing to the appropriate columns of the chart to make it easier for Jazz to understand.
"Creation-positive. Purpose. Person-negative-knowledge. memory-positive-effort-negative."
Jazz frowns, concentrating on his finger.
Oh. Created. For those who don't know it. Easy to learn.
He was right. The whole thing is waaaay too awkward to write poetry but learning it is a delight.
Jazz leans over the chart.
All right, well, let's see.
“Name. You. Question?”
The other guy smiles and pokes at the chart
"Me.Motion-sound-negative.Negative-eyes-positive-someone."
Walk quietly. searching?
 Sneaking?
Oh, it's not "to sneak" it's "to prowl"
"Prowl" nods affirmatively. Jazz smiles at him and looks at the chart again. Okay. How to say “music”?..
“word-knowledge-negative.”
He stops to make a gesture with his hands, as if playing an invisible piano while humming a tune.
Prowl nods
“Sound-positive-positive-hearing.”
Jazz chuckles
“A whole two positives eh? Okay then. Uh. You don't look like you listen to jazz....so..”
“Me. Name. Sound-positive-positive-listening.”
Prowl raises his eyebrows. (Jazz is jealous, he wishes he had eyebrows too.)
“You're a musician?"
Jazz quickly shakes his head while simultaneously muting the outside speakers to a barely audible level and turning on one of the songs on his playlist.
Prowl twitches in surprise when he hears the melody.
Jazz waits for the intro to finish playing and then points to himself
“Creation-negative..uh..Sound-positive-positive-hearing. Jazz. This...”
He pats himself lightly on the chest.
"..is me. Jazz."
Prowl straightens up slightly
“Oh, you're not a musician, you're the music.”
Jazz nods cheerfully
“Yes yes!”
“Jaaz?”
“No no. Jazz.”
“Ah. Jazz?”
“That's right.”
Prowl draws a portal on the screen.
“You teleported here. What happened?”
Jazz hangs back, trying to construct an answer in his head. Good thing Prowl seems to have infinite patience
“So, I uh. What was 'fight'? Movement-pain-positive? I fought these things...”
He takes the tablet from Prowl and draws a crooked blot with a bunch of tentacles on it. Then thinks for a bit and adds big teeth and a lot of eyes. He's not really sure how to draw those eyes properly, so he just scatters them randomly around the monster area.
Prowl doesn't seem to be that amused by Jazz's drawings anymore, in fact, he suddenly becomes very somber.
“Quintessons.”
He pokes at the monster
“Name-Quintessons. Number-question.”
How many?
Jazz scratches the back of his head
“So uh...a lot?....number-positive-positive-positive-positive-positi...you get the idea.”
To be convincing, he dramatically spreads his arms out to the sides depicting something very large.
Prowl looks alarmed.
And unconvinced.
“How did you survive?”
Jazz laughs pretentiously
“Ask them how they survived.”
Prowl makes the “you can't be serious” face. Jazz isn't quite sure what exactly is confusing him. Mechs are designed to kill Quintessons, aren't they? Judging by his movements, this pilot must be damn good at controlling his mech, and that kind of guys usually fight on the front lines.
He decides to put that thought aside for later. There are more important things right now, like...oh shit, where is he even going??
Jazz leans over the chart again
“Uh. Right. Question-we-move-up-place” Man, how to specify... “Knowledge-negative?”
Prowl, linguistic gods bless him, understands him and starts gesturing over the chart in response
Okay. Ah. I-move-up. Planet-creation-positive.
'I'm heading home' or 'my home planet'.”
Jazz instantly perks up.
“Oh that's great, I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to go there too.”
Prowl is speaking in a language he's unfamiliar with, so he's definitely from another country, but hey, who cares as long as it's on Earth, right? He just needs to get there and he'll find his own way from there.
He watches the space debris flicker by outside the window. Even the stars are unfamiliar, Jazz can't find any constellations he knows.
One of the little purple creatures says something and Prowl steps aside to chat with them. Jazz leans back and settles into a more or less stable position. Then does the same thing, but with his real, human body. Hell, his head still feels really fucking weird after that teleportation.
He opens the comm channel and just listens to the static for a couple minutes in the faint hope that the engineering department will find a way to contact him.
Nothing.
He sighs.
“1061 on the com. In case there's any way you can hear me...ah shit. You guys won't believe what happened...”
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ivesambrose · 2 months ago
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PAC : YOUR AUTUMN BLESSINGS 🍁
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1. 2. 3.
May the remaining months of 2024 lead to a favorable plot twist for all of you reading this đŸ–€
To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at [email protected]
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Picture 1
‱ A lot of you will be blessed with foreign travel to a destination that heals this restlessness in your heart. It seems as though you had been fighting against the odds for so long and have also accumulated so much mental strain and grief because you've felt like you couldn't grow where you're at and you're right. You're going to feel the most alive you've felt in a long time. Don't turn down the opportunities that come your way. ‱ Unexpected wealth or income from an unknown or foreign source. ‱ Venturing out of your home or comfort zone. A change in perspective as well. ‱ The sun rising after the darkest hours of your life. It's amusing that it's happening during fall when things usually wither away that you're getting your color back. You may feel like you're Venturing out alone or that your journey is a solitary one. You aren't too bothered because you're so used to it even as it terrifies you. But along the way you'll find people who want to walk beside you even as the cold threatens to sink into your bones. You might just find your soul family this fall. Perhaps home isn't confined to four walls but rather, the people and the places you've yet to step foot into.
Picture 2
‱ You'll be blessed with finding a balance in your life that earlier was bound to topple over no matter what you did and how hard you tried. You'll confront certain habits and behaviours that you have and actively choose to work through them. Some of them have been hindering your growth and costing you your own peace of mind as well as relationships. ‱ Improvement in health. As well as recognition and reward in your workplace or emotional fulfillment via the work you do or your lifestyle changes. ‱ Heightened intuition and foresight. Trust your instincts over fear mongering from others. ‱ Possible expansion in social circle or connecting with people you can learn from without being ridiculed. You'll be introduced to people or spaces with a more positive outlook to life and circumstances rather than the ones who have a cynical approach to everything. ‱ A better self concept and increase in confidence. Do not allow anyone to walk over you or be little you in any shape or form. ‱ you may also get the confidence or the money to shop for certain fashion items you had earlier been stalling on or might be gifted the same.
Picture 3
‱ You'll be blessed with something rather abrupt. You may not even consider it as a blessing at first till realisation dawns on you. ‱ I significantly see a blessing that's financial in nature something that will aid you in the long term. You might be too fixated at things going wrong at first. Please don't do that. When the opportunity arrives please have the courage to reach for it and make it yours. You may have the tendency to worry to the point that anything good happening for you is too good to be true. Thing is you tend to be blessed in rather unconventional ways. Certain things you may have quiet literally looked over for months or years. This autumn take some time to reflect on certain aspects of your life and how regardless of what was going wrong or what wasn't 'working out' for you had been in your favor all along. The more you bring in your awareness to that the more of these blessings you'll receive. ‱ A lot of you do struggle with mental health as well as sleep issues. You're rather artistic however but may have kept your arts and crafts aside for a long time. You'll be revisiting things that have brought you joy in the past and feel happy this time instead of feeling performative. ‱ Lastly, allow good things to happen to you.
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kairoot · 4 months ago
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đ‘Žđ‘¶đ‘¶đđ’đ“đ‘đ”đ‚đŠ — è„żæ‘ćŠ›.
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𝐬đČđ§đšđ©đŹđąđŹ: during the village’s annual moon festival, the moon shines big and bright. legend says that it reveals a person’s true emotions under its light and can rekindle lost feelings. when you move to the little romance village, it’s bustling with talk of the festival and a famous local painter. deciding to see what the gossip was about, you attend said moon festival. but what happens when you run into this unknown artist under the moon’s light?
đ©đšđąđ«đąđ§đ : niki x đ‘“ïŒŽđ—‹đ–Ÿđ–șđ–œđ–Ÿđ—‹ 𝗮đ—Čđ—»đ—żđ—Č : fluff , s2l, soulmates (???), folklore kinda thing.. 𝗿đ—Čđ—Ÿđ˜‚đ—Č𝘀𝘁đ—Čđ—± : no đ˜„đ—źđ—żđ—»đ—¶đ—»đ—Žđ˜€ : riki is kind of a loner .. ( 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒏’𝘀 đ—»đ—Œđ˜đ—Č𝘀 ) : special thank you to nini ^^ @flwrstqr for proofreading for me, I love u â™ĄïžŽ. pls leave reblogs, they are much appreciated !! â™ĄïžŽ WC: 3.3K
**
THE VILLAGE SQUARE WAS a kaleidoscope of lights, colors, and laughter. Lanterns hung from just about every surface, casting a warm, golden glow over the cobblestone streets. The air was full of sweet scents, coming from every corner of the small town.
You weaved through the large crowd, taking in all of the sights and sounds. It was beyond anything you’d ever experienced. Being a new resident to the town, you couldn’t understand what all of the excitement was about over one festival but now you felt the same way everyone else did.
Melodic strains of the village’s music played, causing people all around to dance together, not caring if they were strangers to one another. You smiled, the sight somehow bringing you joy.
After walking a few miles, an older shop catches your eye. The traditional decorations hanging outside the tiny building, with a crescent moon sketched on the wooden door. You opened it to walk in, the small bell ringing as the door moved.
You were greeted with the sharp tang of an earthy aroma of dried clay and the rich smell of more wood from the easels, frames, and shelves. The subtle hint of fresh pencil shavings, and the crisp scent of new canvases waiting to be transformed.
A few employees smiled and waved at you, their kindness making you feel welcome as you got ready to explore this new environment. The store was quiet; the only noise being a few painters conversing with one another, the low traditional music that played in the background, and pencils or paintbrushes moving against the canvases.
You walked further into the shop, wandering around the shelves to look at different tools and paintings that had been hung up on display.
You ran your hand over the wooden shelf, another crescent moon etched into the dark surface.
This town is serious about the moon, you thought.
You continued your mini journey through the aisles, amazed by some of the artistry inside of them.
But a certain painting seems to pique your interest. You let your feet guide you to the image, captivated by the delicate brushstrokes that brought the scene to life. Just as you let your fingertips graze the painting, another hand brushed against yours. Startled, you pulled your hand away at the same time as the other person’s, causing the art to fall to the ground.
“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologize to the stranger, before you both chuckle at the small incident. The stranger crouches to pick the canvas up from the ground, holding it with a firm grasp.
You look up, only to see a much taller male in front of you, dressed in all black with a paint splattered apron tied around his waist. His eyes sharp but filled with surprise as he stared back at you.
His beauty captivated you in a way. In a way where you couldn’t even find your words or perhaps even start a conversation.
You both stood silently until he sucked in a breath, hesitant on whether he wanted to say something.
“So, uh—, arts’ your thing, too?” He glanced at the painting in his hands and then back at you, a gentle smile making its way to his face.
“I guess I’ve found it kind of interesting lately,” you beamed, feeling a bit more at ease. “What about you?”
“Yeah, uh, this is mine actually..” He trailed off. Your eyes widened in surprise, suddenly feeling guilty for the incident that had occurred a few minutes earlier.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to knock it down, I was just curious, and—“
He looked down, chuckling, “It’s no problem. I was thinking of chunking it anyway.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion, “But it’s way too good for you to just throw away like that.”
He shrugged, still smiling a bit. “I don’t know.. I’m just not too fond of it.”
You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “Why’s that? It seems really beautiful to me.”
He looked at you with a spark of enthusiasm in his eyes. “Well, if you’re interested, you can make your own. I give mini-lessons from time to time. If you’re free, I’d be happy to show you some techniques.”
A smile crept onto your face. “I’d love that.”
“I’m Riki, by the way.” He extended his larger hand.
You shook his hand, the warm and firm grip making you feel as if you had butterflies in your stomach.
“Y/n.”
The sunlight filtered gently through the shop's windows, casting a warm, inviting glow over the art supplies and canvases. You arrived at the store a bit early, your excitement barely contained. Riki was setting up a small workspace in the back corner, his movements precise and deliberate. The room was filled with the rich scents of paint and wood, a comforting backdrop for the lesson ahead.
“Hey,” Riki greeted as you walked in, his smile making your heart flutter. “Ready for your mini-lesson?”
You nodded, trying to maintain a calm exterior but feeling a tingle of nerves. “Definitely!”
Riki’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he motioned for you to join him at the small table. “Alright, grab an apron and we’ll start with some basics. I’ll show you how to create depth and texture in your painting.”
You took one of the dark aprons off of the hook by the door and took a seat. Riki’s proximity made you acutely aware of his presence. He stood close enough that you could catch the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the earthy aroma of the paint. As he demonstrated the brushstrokes, his hand occasionally brushed against yours, sending a shy smile to your lips.
“Alright, so you want to use a light touch for the highlights,” Riki said, his voice warm and encouraging. He leaned in slightly to show you the technique up close, his face just inches from yours. The closeness made your cheeks warm, and you found it hard to focus on the painting as you became acutely aware of the soft sound of his breath and the gentle way he spoke.
“Like this,” he continued, guiding your hand with his own. His fingers were careful and steady, and you felt a gentle pressure as he helped you maneuver the brush. “The key is to layer the colors gradually, so it builds up the texture without looking too harsh.”
His hand lingered on yours for a moment longer than necessary, and you couldn’t help but glance up at him. Riki’s eyes were soft, and his smile was reassuring. “You’re doing great. Just remember to relax and let the brush do the work.”
You nodded, trying to steady your breath as you followed his instructions. The way he spoke to you, with such patience and attentiveness, made your heart race. Each time he leaned in to offer guidance, you felt a flutter of shyness but also an endearing sense of comfort.
Riki moved to the other side of the table, giving you space but still offering occasional tips and encouragement. “You’re really picking this up fast,” he said with genuine admiration, his voice carrying a note of pride. “You have a natural eye for detail..”
You blushed at his compliment, focusing on your painting with renewed determination. “Thanks. I’ve really enjoyed learning from you.”
He smiled warmly, his eyes reflecting a hint of something more than just professional interest. “I’ve enjoyed having you as my ‘student’.”
As the lesson continued, you found yourself growing more confident. Riki’s careful instruction and the way he interacted with you made the experience both educational and heartwarming. Every time he offered a correction or praised your work, it felt like a gentle nudge toward something greater.
By the end of the session, you were both smiling, the painting before you a testament to the techniques Riki had shared. “I think you’re ready for more advanced techniques next time,” he said, his eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. “But for now, you’ve done really great.”
You beamed, feeling a mix of accomplishment and affection for the kind-hearted teacher who had made your art journey so special. “Thank you. I can’t wait for our next lesson.”
As you packed up your things, Riki’s gaze lingered on you with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. “I’m looking forward to it too,” he said softly. “See you soon.”
You left the shop with a smile, carrying not just the knowledge of painting but also the warmth of a shared connection.
A few days later, the festival was in full swing again, but this time it was a different night. You decided to take a quiet walk to a nearby beach, not too far from the festival setup. The moon hung low in the sky, casting its silver light over the ocean waves.
You carried with you a small set of painting materials, inspired by the techniques Riki had taught you. Setting up on the sand, you began to paint the scene before you: the moonlit waves and the gentle shimmer of the water. With each brushstroke, you used the tips he had given you, trying to capture the serene beauty of the moment.
The night was quiet, save for the soft sound of the waves and the occasional distant laughter from the festival. As you worked, you felt a sense of peace and contentment, lost in the beauty of the moment.
After a while, you sensed someone approaching. Turning slightly, you saw Riki walking towards you, his eyes bright with curiosity and admiration. He stopped a few feet away, watching you paint with a soft smile on his face.
"Hey," he greeted, his voice gentle. "I didn't expect to find you here."
You smiled back, feeling a flutter of happiness at his presence. "I needed some quiet time to practice. I’ve been kind of inspired."
Riki moved closer, sitting down next to you on the sand. His proximity was comforting, and you felt a warm sense of connection as he admired your work. "You've really captured the essence of the scene," he said, his eyes scanning your painting. "It's like seeing the world through your eyes."
His compliment made your heart swell with pride. "Thanks.. I’ve been trying to use the techniques you taught me.”
“Oh, really?” He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on his face. “My techniques?”
You chuckled lightly, nodding, “Yes, your technique.”
You continued to paint, occasionally glancing at Riki, who watched with genuine interest.
The moonlight cast a soft glow on his features, making the moment feel even more magical. After a while, Riki spoke, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.
"You know, the legend of the moon... it's said to reveal the truth about one's emotions," he began, his eyes fixed on the waves. "I've always been afraid to let the moon see mine, not after what happened before."
You looked at him with curiosity. “What happened?”
He sighed softly, looking out at the ocean. “I once let the moonlight reveal my true feelings and it led to heartbreak. It was... painful.. But that’s a story for another day..”
He turned to you, his eyes sincere and vulnerable. “Somehow, being with you, I don’t feel that fear. There’s something about tonight, and about you, that makes me believe in the magic of the moon again.”
You felt a pang of sympathy and reached out, gently placing your hand on his. “Riki, you don’t have to talk about it if you’re not comfortable.”
He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. “Thank you. It’s just... hard to think about sometimes. The pain was so real, and it made me afraid to show my true emotions again.”
You squeezed his hand gently, offering him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. Take your time. I’m here. Though we met nights ago, I’m here.”
 Riki‘s eyes softened, and he gave you a small, appreciative smile. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”
The moon’s light bathed the beach in a gentle glow, illuminating the quiet understanding between you. Riki’s honesty and openness resonated deeply, and you felt a sense of connection that was both comforting and profound.
He shifted slightly, moving closer to you until your shoulders almost touched. The warmth of his body next to yours was a silent reassurance, a wordless promise of support. “You’re really something, you know that?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you turned to look at him, finding his gaze already on you. “I could say the same about you,” you replied, feeling the intimacy of the moment deepen.
Riki’s eyes held a mixture of vulnerability and strength, a silent testament to the pain he carried and the bravery it took to admit it. He took a deep breath, his fingers brushing against yours as he spoke. “It’s just... sometimes the memories are too painful. But being here with you, it makes it a little easier to bare.”
You felt a surge of tenderness for him, your heart aching at the thought of the hurt he’d endured. “I’ll be here, whenever you’re ready.”
He nodded, his eyes glistening with unspoken emotion. “Thank you. It’s... it’s a lot, but knowing I have someone who understands means everything.”
The waves whispered their secrets to the shore, and the moon shone down, wrapping you both in its gentle embrace. The moment was filled with quiet revelations and tender support, a reminder that sometimes, the simple act of being present could be the greatest comfort of all. 
As the night continued, you returned to your painting, the brush gliding smoothly across the canvas. Riki watched you with a gentle smile, his eyes filled with admiration and something more—a tenderness that was growing stronger with each passing moment.
Unbeknownst to both of you, the moonlight was beginning to take effect, subtly enhancing the emotions between you. Every glance exchanged, every soft touch, carried a deeper meaning, an unspoken promise of what could be.
You finished your painting, setting the brush down and turning to Riki. He reached out, taking your hand in his. “Come on,” he said softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Let’s take a break.”
He led you to the water’s edge, where the waves gently lapped at the shore. The cool water splashed over your feet, sending a delightful shiver up your spine. Riki laughter filled the air, infectious and free, and you couldn’t help but join in.
You ran along the shoreline, the waves chasing after you, and for a moment, all your worries melted away. Riki caught up to you, grabbing your hand and spinning you around, both of you laughing as you stumbled into the shallow waves.
The moonlight danced on the water, casting a magical glow over everything. You splashed each other, the cool water mingling with the warmth of your laughter. Riki’s hand never left yours, his grip firm yet gentle, grounding you in the moment.
At one point, he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as the waves rolled in. The world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you under the moon’s tender gaze. You looked up at him, your heart swelling with an emotion you couldn’t quite name but felt deeply in your soul.
“Riki,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the ocean.
He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “I know,” he replied softly, his breath mingling with yours. “I feel it too.”
The moonlight seemed to intensify, casting a silver halo around you both. The moment stretched, filled with unspoken words and shared feelings. Then, with a gentle tug, Riki led you back to the shore, where you sat together, the waves gently lapping at your feet.
You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling his warmth seep into you. The night was filled with love-filled glances and quiet intimacy, a perfect blend of comfort and connection. The magic of the moon had done its work, weaving a spell of closeness that would linger long after the night had ended.
You both sat in comfortable silence for a while, the rhythmic sound of the waves providing a soothing backdrop. Riki’s fingers traced gentle patterns on your hand, his touch sending a pleasant shiver through you. He seemed lost in thought, and you didn’t want to disturb the quiet peace that had settled over you both.
But then, as if needing to break the silence, he spoke again, his voice soft and filled with emotion. “You know, sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever fully heal from what happened. It’s like a part of me is still stuck in that moment.”
You turned to him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his eyes. “Healing takes time, Riki. And it’s okay to feel that way. Just remember, you don’t have to face it alone.”
He looked at you, his eyes searching yours. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I do. Whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’ll be here. And if you’re not ready, that’s okay too.”
Riki’s gaze softened, and he leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. 
The intimacy of the moment deepened, the air around you thick with unspoken emotions. Riki’s fingers continued to trace gentle patterns on your hand, each touch sending a warm, tingling sensation through you. You could feel the connection between you growing stronger, the bond solidifying in a way that felt both natural and profound.
As the night wore on, the two of you shared stories, laughter, and moments of comfortable silence. You found yourself opening up to him in ways you hadn’t expected, sharing parts of yourself you usually kept hidden. Riki listened with genuine interest, his responses thoughtful and kind.
Eventually, the lure of the waves became irresistible again, and you found yourselves splashing through the shallows, once again, laughing and playing like children. Riki’s laughter was infectious, his joy a balm to your soul. You chased each other through the surf, the cool water a delightful contrast to the warmth of your growing affection.
At one point, Riki caught you around the waist, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. You laughed, the sound pure and free, your heart swelling with happiness. He set you down gently, his arms still wrapped around you as the waves hit your ankles.
The moonlight bathed you both in its gentle glow, casting a magical light over the scene. Riki’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of you. He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your skin.
“Thank you for tonight,” he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. “For everything.”
You smiled, your heart full. “I should be the one thanking you. This has been... amazing.”
Riki’s eyes held a promise, a silent vow of what could be. “Let’s make a pact,” he said softly. “No more hiding. From the moon, from each other, from ourselves.”
You nodded, feeling a surge of hope and determination. “Deal.”
The night continued, filled with love-filled glances, quiet intimacy, and the gentle lapping of the waves. The magic of the moon had woven a spell of connection and understanding, one that would linger long after the festival lights had faded. As the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, you knew that this night would be a cherished memory, a moment of pure, unadulterated connection.
And as Riki‘s hand found yours once more, you knew that even if you had met only nights before, for some reason you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.
✩
TAGLIST: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @jungwonderz @enha-stars @dioll @jakesangel @cupidscourt @violetwitchmcu @haohaoshoe @randomgirl02228 @wonsdoll @powerpuffstuts @flwrstqr @elysianiki — send an ask to join.
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aureatchi · 5 months ago
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ᝰ𓂃âŠč ÖŽÖ¶Öž SHE PAINTED THE HIGH RENAISSANCE ONTO HER BLANK CANVAS. . .ft. fyodor dostoevsky & dazai osamu
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৻êȘ† RIASSUNTO. fata viam invenient...you attend a ball, fated to stumble upon two demons in disguise. you don't know whether it is for better or worse that you somehow already know them, all masqueraded as angels, regardless of how laughably far off that would be.
◞ OR ROME WAS TRULY THE PROMISED LAND, and you sought the art of chaos, rivalry, and seduction.
SERIES MASTERLIST. → ii. | PLAYLIST ♫. | wc. 9.6k+
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৻êȘ† a/n. it’s FINALLY HERE !! get ready because there’s A LOT. i’ve poured sm heart into this so i hope you enjoy it as much as i do :) THANK YOU TO EVERYONE who was patient + reached out telling me how excited they are for this. this series is also my entry for @kentopedia’s love through the ages historical!au collab. thank u sm for putting this together <3
৻êȘ† info. fem!reader. renaissance!au. drama & romance. cursing. some suggestive parts. love triangle. arranged engagement. slowburn. lowk touch-starved. a lot of story buildup/complex character. suicide attempt from dazai. historical inaccuracies. bad poetry. religious imagery/symbolism.
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— THE MONA LISA WASN’T REAL. And Vincenzo Peruggia was not, in fact, the person who stole the piece, contributing to the boom of its fame to the general public, but was planned in a way to frame him so that the origins of the painting would be a secret gossip only a group of the most successful artists knew about. 
The gendarmes were close. They were correct in assuming that another artist could’ve stolen the painting during the investigation. But they never suspected it could be the person the portrait was painted of herself—no, obviously not Francesco del Giocondo’s wife—but the original face who remained under the cover-up. 
An artist’s face, who later went under the alias of “Raphael” to conceal her contentious image and entanglements from the public eye—you. 
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The crashing of ice-cold water on your skin amidst the summer air. The weight of your aspirations on your shoulders, and an unknown heart who vowed to drown you

“My, miss, you’re already stirring up tons of drama, and you’ve only been here three days!” 
The past couple of months had felt like a dream. It almost seemed like yesterday when you packed your things into suitcases and moved to one of the most famous centers of the art world, Florence. 
Yet now, you entered through the gates of the ‘eternal city’ itself—Rome, a great privilege granted to you by the Pope himself. You almost cried when you received his invitation, commissioning you to paint the frescos in his private library. Of course, there were some strings pulled, like the person who recommended you

“It’s all thanks to you, Ranpo,” you giggled mischievously. As the lead architect of the Vatican (but before that, your friend), he had told the Pope, “...she might as well become the best painter in all history. She may not be well known here in Rome, but say her name in Florence, and you’ll awaken the whole city. You’ll realize you’ve found a diamond among all the rubble. Trust me on this one; I’m never wrong.” 
“It was nothing,” Ranpo replied with a smug smile. “His Holiness, Fukuzawa never doubts my word.” He tapped his head with his forefinger and winked. “Not only does he recognize my talent in the arts, he also acknowledges my outstanding intellect! I’d be a detective in another life.” 
You chuckled before he continued. “The rest is all on you, princess. Again, you’re progressing quickly-” he pulled out a letter to summarize out loud. 
“-His Holiness was so impressed that he’s giving you the rest of the rooms to paint,” Ranpo said while you stared at him with widened eyes. “He
fired everyone else who was working on them. On top of that, he invites you to a ball happening in a couple of days to make an announcement on new projects. Other than you, he’s invited only the most influential artisans to attend alongside the aristocrats.” 
“No way!” You grabbed Ranpo’s hands in excitement. 
“Yes, way.” He let you spin him around on the pavement in eagerness, your long dress following along. “Though, I feel like you’re going to have to explain to him how you painted the library’s frescos so quickly.” 
Your turbulence of elation calmed. “Hm, you’re right. 
“I hope the question slips his mind.”
You hadn’t actually told Ranpo, but it always seemed like he would figure out everything about you anyway. There was one reason why you had become so famous in Florence. You created masterpieces in what felt like seconds—it was almost like you were granted the touch of creation itself. No one had ever seen you paint, so the mystery of how you were able to produce your portraits in mere weeks—sometimes days remained a mystery to the entire world, no matter how fast science progressed. 
You called it an ability. To be able to visualize—a mental image in your head you wanted to come to life in the form of a still painting on a canvas was what you did. You conjured the concept yourself, freezing daydream into textile. 
You weren’t sure why you possessed something supernatural, or perhaps there were other artists you didn’t know who could also do the same thing, but firstly, you kept it a secret—it seemed almost inhuman to hold such a power. Yet secondly, it was even more the reason to follow in your father’s footsteps. 
He, too, was a painter in the courts of Urbino and would’ve liked to become a famous artist as well. Now, that dream lived on through you—you had studied and trained under his teachers and other artists until you mastered their techniques from the foundations to geometry. Your father was no longer alive, but you were sure he’d be proud of you for getting this far. 
“Oh, one more thing,” Ranpo said.
“The two angels of art are going to be there.” The brunette closed his eyes and rested his arms behind his head as if he already knew the shocked expression awaiting your face. “Your inspirations. Osamu Dazai of Milan and your fiancĂ©, Fyodor Dostoevsky of Florence.” 
“Pardon me, Fyodor?” 


A long time ago, your uncle—your now legal guardian—arranged your marriage to Fyodor Dostoevsky. However, the same would’ve happened even if your father had been in charge due to his family’s good societal position. 
It was just meant to be, you guessed. 
Coincidentally, Fyodor had also taken an interest in art the few times you two saw each other when you were younger, and you eventually saw him go on to become the most talented sculptor in Florence. 
However, your path of similarities ran cold after that. You hadn’t seen him in years, and you weren’t even close. You were obligated to write to each other once a month, but each message almost seemed like business transactions rather than love letters. Fyodor was too aloof a person despite being well-educated and polite—though he checked off every other box (and you were sure any other woman would want him), you realized you would never be able to connect with him. He was just not interested. 
You couldn’t do anything to change the engagement, but as long as there was no set wedding date to look (dread) forward to, you were content with life for now. 
You didn’t necessarily like Fyodor, nor did you go to Rome to finally pursue him, but you admired him from a different standpoint. 
He and Osamu Dazai were truly angels of art; even gods, if the Church was not one’s forte. Everyone across the country knew their names—patrons and civilians alike worshipped them at the feet. Even the powerful Medici family, sought by every artist to be commissioned, held close ties with both. 
Clientages saved their money to have the two paint for them, upcoming artists aspired and envied their success, ladies came with their names rolling off their tongues to the horror of their husbands’ faces—they were rumored to be devilishly handsome, too. Self-portraits of the prodigies were yet to be made, but you didn’t doubt it one bit. If Dazai was anything like Fyodor, he had to be fanciable too. 
They had the world and heavens as masterpieces in their hands; one could say their names traveled as far as the badlands. You arrived in Florence right after they departed for Rome, and you studied the creations left behind to figure out how they made crowds swoon and create such huge impressions on people.
And you found their pieces were indeed the pinnacle of the renascene summer. You silently made them your mentors, incorporating what was successful for them into your own works. 


“And you’ll be there, right, Ranpo?” 
“Of course, so don’t you worry your pretty head about a thing,” he tapped his head with a smile. “Though, I have some work to finish first, so I’ll leave thee to explore Rome.” 
“Don’t take the wrong wagon this time,” you giggled. Ranpo was late to meet you on your first day because he kept taking the wrong passenger coach to get to you. For some reason, he was knowledgeable at everything but navigating transportation. 
“I’m taking a horse this time,” Ranpo replied. 
“Even worse! You better not fall off!” 
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There was a tailor you had been recommended to by your aunt before you departed. You decided to head to his shop first to find a dress to wear for the evening. 
“Good day, my lady,” the couturier said with a kind smile. “I have multiple options of gowns for you tonight. Please do take your time selecting.”
“Gramercy,” you replied with a smile in turn. Your measurements had been sent to him a few weeks ago, so that you wouldn’t have to wait for your garments to be made. 
He brought out at least four cioppas. You didn’t even care to figure out how many in total because among all the regal reds, greens, and royal blues stood out a silk, off-white dress with gold accents. Your eyes were immediately drawn in, though you couldn’t put your finger on why. It wasn’t the most showy in the bunch, but that didn’t matter to you. It was like a rare gem among common stones—though you would need a good eye to really appreciate its uniqueness. 
You ran your fingertips across the fabric, closely observing its craftsmanship. You became fascinated with the opulent designs on the flowy skirt and the long sleeves. You guessed that if you didn’t take it, you’d instead dream of it for the rest of your days in regret and freeze it in one of your paintings for eternity.
“I think I’ll try this one first.” 
Your first choice proved worthwhile when you tried on the gown in the separate dressing room. You exchanged the simple front-laced bodice and plain cotton attire for the new, elegant piece sewn just for you. The fabric hugged and complimented your curves in all the right places, creating the most flattering look as you turned in front of the mirror. 
You imagined yourself with your hair styled and matching jewelry to accompany it—you felt like a princess. Perhaps this confidence was the only thing that would help you get through the ball this evening and perhaps your entire time here. You hadn’t been around so much aristocracy in years—though you grew up privileged, you preferred to live humbly and simply focus on your hobby (and you spared your change on those in need). You were lovely yourself, no doubt, and maybe that’s why you charmed many people of different social classes as you grew more popular. 
You studied yourself through the mirror again, and it was like the polarity of your dresses reflected the fate of this new chapter of life set against the one you left behind.
The weight of your aspirations on your shoulders and an unknown heart that vowed to drown you
you suddenly felt cold. You rushed to get out of the room. 
“It’s perfect on you,” the tailor said, unable to disguise his awe when you asked him for his opinion and to ensure all the sizing was correct. You nodded in curiosity when he asked, “Now, would you like to know the inspiration behind the dress?” You always looked forward to seeing how your tailors incorporated your personality and family style into their design. 
“It’s a play on a singular topic,” he said. 
“Angels. A dual purpose signifying both the type of art you create and how you give off an entrancing allure—they will be curious about your enigmatic yet enchanting importance. That will be your statement tonight among the darker colors.” 
The earlier thought of comparing your two inspirations to angels came to mind. You decided right then—you found no need to try on any of the others. 
“I’ll have this one sent for me tonight,” you said. “Thank you again.”
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Rome was alive and busy with action at every corner you turned. You strolled down the streets with no set destination, admiring the liveliness of the city. There were markets and shops everywhere and merchants with all sorts of foreign goods. 
You discovered a ruella at the corner of one street, and the door was widely opened. You peered in to see a group of women inside, probably discussing various intellectual topics. 
You decided to go inside and socialize, having nothing better to do. As you stepped into the salon, they all turned to greet you. 
“Good day, miss,” a few of them said. 
“Oh, aren’t you the Florentine artist?” one of them asked. She moved to the side so you’d have a spot to sit.
I got recognized, you thought, and you couldn’t hide your smile. 
“My husband was there awhile back,” she continued as you sat beside her. “He couldn’t stop talking about how enamored he was with your style and was sure you’d make it here next. Looks like he was correct!” 
“I’m very flattered,” you responded, a warm tint in your cheeks. 
“Did you recently arrive?” she asked. “I hope your journey here went smoothly.” 
“Yes, it went alright!” you said. “The weather wasn’t too bad, and I enjoyed the views on the way. I even passed by some lakes
” 
You felt it again. A shiver ran down your spine. The crashing of ice-cold water on your skin that stood perpendicular to summer’s balmy weather. The intense feeling to stay alive—to save yourself and the soul you did not know

Your journey had gone smoothly up until you passed by one of the lakes near Rome. It had been a peaceful day, and your coach driver suggested that you look outside. You lifted the curtain and were received with one of nature’s blessings—verdant grass and plants that thrived around clear blue waters. 
You could’ve painted it if you remembered the sight. You truly could have if the memory of the scene wasn’t tainted by what you saw seconds after. 
“Hey, is that a person?” you asked your driver, squinting your eyes—unblemished, untouched picture shattering in your head. The land on one side of the lake was vastly elevated, creating a cliff on that end, and a figure stood in the distance.
A moment passed. 
“
Yes, my lady.” 
Your eyes weren’t betraying you—there was a man dangerously close to the cliff’s ledge, and you weren’t born yesterday to not know what he was thinking of doing. 
“Stop the wagon,” you said, a slip of panic in your tone. Your driver looked back at you hesitantly, but you ordered once again. 
“Please stop the wagon. Don’t come after me. And don’t tell anyone about this.” 
The horses carrying you came to a halt, and you rushed out of the chaise. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you at that moment—there was a random person you happened to catch making more than a terrible decision, why get involved—but you couldn’t stop now as it was like your legs were carrying you themselves. You immediately took off east towards the cliff. It would take you a few minutes until you got to the man. 
What would you even tell him? Would you try to talk him out of it? Gaslight him into stepping away from the edge? Offer to paint him a custom piece for free?—“Oh, I’m actually a famous artist in the country, I can paint you whatever you wish. But I can’t really do that if you kill yourself.” You dashed past grass and rocks as you hurried up the hill.
You would definitely have to change once you got back—the bottom of your dress was already soiled, and you were sweating.
Splash!
Your face was struck in complete horror at the loud sound. You peered over the edge to see huge ripples cascading across the surface of the lake. 
Oh shit! 
You ran back down and then towards the shore. You thanked God that you weren’t using any heavy layers under your dress that day and prayed you weren’t going to end up killing yourself as well. You knew how to swim, but the man was far from the bank. 
Am I really going to do this? 
This might’ve been the most spontaneous thing I’ve done. And the worst.
You liked to think that if you saved him, you would be rewarded in some other way. A good Samaritan—you thought. It had to be worth it. You couldn’t die before your new life even began. 
You submerged yourself into what felt like frozen water, your clothing suddenly feeling uncomfortable around you. Still, you wasted no time swimming toward the man who jumped in. 
He was already sinking—of course, this lake has to be deep. You immediately grabbed onto his waist when you got to him, but not before you took a good look at his face. He was probably of the working class because he only wore a simple white shirt. You also noticed he was covered by an absurd amount of bandages. Soft waves of brunette hair framed the man’s profile, and he looked far more content and at peace than he should’ve been. In any other situation, you would’ve thought he was taking a pleasant nap by the way his eyes were closed, and his lips were slightly parted. 
You’d never seen anyone so pretty underwater. If you hadn’t seen him as a human above land, you would’ve thought he was a mermaid or some other foreign creature. 
Your thoughts and observations were interrupted when you realized you couldn’t hold your breath any longer. Trying not to panic anymore, you first tried to drag the two of you up above the water, but you weren’t strong enough to battle the weight of it against the two of you. 
You would have to swim to shore and didn’t know if you had enough air to return. 
Well, I need to make it work anyway, you thought. You wouldn’t let this mysterious guy you didn’t know cut off everything you wanted to pursue. 
You took ahold of one of the man’s loose arms and, with determination, tried to propel yourself the way you came from, kicking your legs through the water. You were more than correct in assuming it would be complicated—the energy in your body drained quickly. 
You were only halfway from where you started when you accidentally choked. But that caused you to completely seize up—water poured into your lungs like open floodgates, and you were unable to breathe. You tried to push yourself up to get air, but you were already too weak to carry even yourself.
The weight of your aspirations on your shoulders and trying to save an unknown heart that had led to you drown—you wondered if he was still alive. He would have to be resuscitated at this point, and you realized, you too. If anyone came in time to save you, that was. You shouldn’t have had ordered your driver to not follow after you. Or rushed into the lake unprepared. 
Or involve yourself with this man. It was his decision to jump off the cliff
and now you had tied his own weight onto your life. Maybe it was all too heavy to carr—
“I’m happy to hear,” the woman replied, oblivious to and interrupting the encounter you were replaying in your head. “I wish you the most success here.” 
“Thank you,” you replied. “You are very kind.” 
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“I am a bit nervous,” you whispered. “I’ll be meeting His Holiness for the first time and other artists. Do I even compare to them?” 
It was evening now. You had spent the last couple of hours preparing for the ball after exploring town—you had on the classy cream-colored dress you selected earlier from the tailor, accompanied by a couple of necklaces. Your hair was put up in a complex style and fastened by a few pieces of jewelry. 
Your mind utterly conflicted with your appearance, though. Your thoughts were in chaotic peril—you tried to hide the fact that you had been pacing around your room in anxiousness right up until Ranpo picked you up. 
“Thou art second to none, miss,” Ranpo replied with a wink and a tight squeeze of your hand. It had only half the same effect as his bear hugs the viridescent-eyed would give you when you weren’t in public, but it was enough. “There’s no reason to be nervous. You fascinated him long ago—you might’ve even been his favorite if I wasn’t here!” 
“Maybe so.” You giggled at his lighthearted smugness. “Well then, let’s get going.”
Ranpo nodded and led you through the large doors of the ballroom. Immediately, you were greeted with the celestial light from the chandeliers contrasting the dark evening sky outside. 
Your eyes drifted in awe among the artigiani and aristocratici of Rome. It was almost chimerical—you hardly remembered you were still holding Ranpo’s hand. The scene looked like it came straight out of a painting. 
“Appealing so far?” Ranpo asked, guiding you down the stairwell. “Can it stand against the Florentine carnivals?” 
You slowly nodded, still focused on the liveliness surrounding you. “It feels divine.” It was more prestigious than any event you’d been to so far—most likely because this was held in one of the Pope’s courts itself. 
“You haven’t even experienced it yet,” Ranpo laughed before leading you into the waltzing crowd. “Shall we dance?”
You and Ranpo followed the movements of the other couples. When you were sure of the pattern of the steps, your eyes wandered again to admire the setting. Everyone was dressed to the nines—although, as your tailor said, they all wore darker colors. You pretended to not notice the looks you received from strangers—however, they were not insulting. They were out of captivation and marvel.
Multiple pieces of artwork were hung around the hall, too, and you wondered if the chosen artists who created them were here now. You considered if they knew of your name too, just as you recognized theirs. 
However, your heart almost stopped when you were reminded of a completely different topic. Ranpo noticed a moment of shock flash through your eyes but did not proceed to question you. (Thankfully, he knew when you would prefer him not to be nosy.) 
You saw the back of a man’s head dressed in pure white—his brunette hair in slightly messy, soft waves. 
There is no way. 
However, you could not confirm your suspicions because he approached a lady in a beautiful, deep red gown to ask for a dance. His face and figure became completely hidden as he waltzed with her at the opposite side of the room. 
“See someone you know?” you heard Ranpo ask. 
Of course he didn’t need to be nosy, because he figured out everything about you anyway. 
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” you responded quietly, still trying to get a glimpse of him, but before you could say anything more, a guard standing next to the entrance silenced the entire crowd. 
“Enter, His Holiness, Fukuzawa!” 
You immediately turned around, and once more was someone dressed in white—the Pope, Yukichi Fukuzawa. You glanced at Ranpo, who gave you a nod of reassurance before politely applauding with everyone else. 
“Thank you for attending this event today,” Fukuzawa started. “Our city has made much progress due to the collaboration and contribution of our artists, so I would like to take tonight to celebrate all of them. Ultimately, I want to reveal the next upcoming project.” 
After a few more words, everyone applauded again, and the party resumed activity. You and Ranpo moved away from the dance, him deciding it was finally time to do the thing you were dreading. 
“Look over there.” Ranpo urged his head towards two men in conversation standing a few feet away. 
If the ballroom really represented the heavens, surely these two were the angels. Even without Ranpo telling you, you knew them to be Osamu Dazai and Fyodor Dostoevsky, standing side by side, white suits further proving their empyreal position.
But your eyes widened, and if you hadn’t been careful, your jaw would’ve dropped, too. Obviously, you recognized Fyodor—tall, jet-black hair—handsome and intimidating as ever, but you didn’t dwell on him for too long. Your eyes quickly scanned the room in search of a woman from earlier with dark curls, dressed in deep red, and when you found her, she was no longer dancing with the brunette dressed in white. 
You looked back at the man beside Fyodor.
It’s him. 
And as if hell—fate, whatever wanted to taunt you further, Osamu Dazai noticed you and Ranpo first, pausing his share of thoughts with the ravenette. You locked eyes with him, and you immediately became embarrassed. 
What the hell? First, one of them is my fiancĂ©, whom I don’t even say a word to, and then the second is
him? 
Perhaps we shall meet again, were the brunette’s words to you by that lake. You truly didn’t believe him then, but it wasn’t the first time you choked on your assumptions. 
In a split second, you pulled Ranpo out of sight. “Ranpo,” you pleaded. “I can’t meet them now!” Your fingers hastily ran through your hair, making sure everything was in place. “I’m not even sure what to say-”
“You’ll have to rip off the bandage sooner or later,” he said, tugging on you. “And I say the sooner, the better! I’ll introduce you to them!” You felt even more displaced at the fact that he offered to introduce you to your own fiancĂ©. However, before you could even object (or say, “Ranpo, somehow I already fucking know both of them!”), he dragged you back—toward the two painters. 
“Good evening, my lords,” Ranpo said as you approached them. 
You didn’t miss how Dazai’s face lit up in a curt smile. Meanwhile, Fyodor had on a neutral expression—probably the only appearance you ever saw him wear. 
“Good evening, Edogawa, the darling of His Holiness,” Fyodor said, the slightest spite in his tone. He did not glance at you at all. 
“Still as cold-hearted as ever, Il Divino-Painter,” Ranpo replied with a chuckle, but it was apparent that he did not like the man.
“I am a sculptor,” Fyodor corrected, a bogus smile still plastered on his face. 
“Don’t mind him,” Dazai said, patting your friend’s shoulder. “He’s just jealous you’re in charge of planning out the entire Vatican palace. And also at the fact His Holiness had to force him into a suit!” When Fyodor gave him a look, Dazai turned to you. 
He had eyes of the sunset, paving the way of something between hell and earth—though in a perfect world, it should’ve been the other way around because he looked as if he had just come down from heaven. You felt your cheeks warm and an uncertain feeling in your stomach. 
“Good evening, my lady,” Dazai said, knocking you out of your reverie. You blushed again as he knelt to take your hand and kiss it, bowing before you—the single minute felt longer than nox itself.
Was this the same man you met at the lake a few days ago? 
He was the artist you admired all along? 
“Apologies for not greeting you first,” he continued as he stood up. “I did see you earlier. How could anyone not notice the angel of Florence who creates masterpieces in days, especially when she looks like one tonight?” You became even more flustered by his sweet words. 
He was familiar with my name all along.
“Ah, so you already recognize her?” Ranpo asked. 
“Of course I do!” You suddenly tensed—half expecting him to reveal your previous encounter with him that you did not want anyone else to know. (If Ranpo knew, you hoped he would keep his mouth shut for your sake.) It would cause too much trouble if someone decided to spread it, and even worse if your uncle found out. He was very strict on image.
But to your relief, he did not. 
“I am very fond of your style, my lady,” Dazai said, resting his hand under his chin. “Madonna del Granduca,” one of your paintings. “You capture human sentiment and emotion so well, even in the most simplistic pieces.” 
Finally, you were able to respond to one of his compliments without becoming a mess. “Thank you.” 
“...And sfumato, your technique,” Fyodor added. “Perhaps you like her style so much because she takes it from you.” 
It was only now Fyodor finally acknowledged you. 
He may just be the son of Nyx. His intentions were tucked away behind amethyst eyes, slumbering in the peaceful twilight he allowed mercy to while all else was caught up in chaotic darkness. Maybe no one else noticed that—if anyone did, Fyodor would not be as beloved as he was now—but you did. You saw through the three strands of malice that laced his following words. 
“Good evening,” he said softly. He kneeled in front of you with your hand, tormenting you with eye contact.
“It’s an honor to see you again, miss. Though I must ask, was Florence not enough? 
“Is grasping originality so tough?
“Are you here to copy more artistic concepts to boost your own depictions of seraph?” 
He delivered a deadly kiss to your hand before you could respond, and before he could see the puzzlement on your face. 
“Excuse me?” 
But you did not falter before him as he stood back up. He did not intimidate you. 
“I’m flattered.” 
For once, the slightest sign of curiosity seeped onto Fyodor’s face.
You gave him a poisonous smile of your own. 
“Sfumato—the blending of colors to create smooth transitions between them,” you explained, giving a nod toward Dazai. “I’m honored that you immersed yourself so much with my painting that you could observe such a detail.”
Ranpo pretended to look around the hall as if he wasn’t paying attention to what was happening, while Dazai couldn’t keep a snort from escaping his throat. 
You kept your eyes fixed on your fiancé’s violet gaze, trying to figure out whether or not you’d be dead after the night was over. Actually—he seemed like the type that could seduce someone into death. Stygian black hair framed against his pallid complexion—ethereal, no doubt, yet you would not be surprised if he turned out to be the Grim Reaper’s right-hand man. (And you were supposed to marry him!)
“I’m here because His Holiness summoned me to paint the frescos in his house. I feel that if he sensed plagiarism in my work, he would’ve not trusted me with this project. 
“What about you, my lord?” 
There was a pause; he was thinking. 
“I am simply searching for something important,” he replied. “An inspiration, if you want to call it. I need it to complete a piece I have been working on.”
“And you’re sure you can find it here?” 
“You can find anything in the promised land, solnyshka.”
The foreign word rolled off of his tongue like honey. He dressed his voice to sound like a lullaby, and you remembered why you thought of him as an angel before he decided to insult you. 
What a juxtaposition. 
“What did you say?” 
“Did you not hear me?” 
He wasn’t going to tell you what he said, nor what he meant in entirety. “Nevermind. I did. Good luck trying to find it.” 


“May I have this next dance, my lady?” 
The charming brunette extended his left hand out to you. You had become irritated with Fyodor after his apparent distaste for you—So this is how you treat me after years of not seeing each other? You thought you could at least try becoming acquainted with him to make your inevitable fate a bit easier for both of you, but it seemed like that wasn’t happening anytime soon. You left the conversation at the nearest opportunity and moved to the other side of the room, unaware that your other dilemma was following you. 
“Lord Dazai?” 
You noticed something new about him as he stood in front of you. Those sunset orbs also harbored a concept as far as the sun. There was something distant in them that felt like half of his mind was immersed somewhere else. You wondered where. 
“I don’t like Dostoevsky at all either,” Dazai chuckled. “Even though tonight’s given me another rival on my list, I like you way more.” 
“Don’t speak so soon,” you scoffed. “You’re going to hate me when I take all your customers.” 
“I don’t think I could ever hate you, bella.” You frowned at his attempt to flirt. “And besides, many of them are very loyal to me.” 
You hesitantly took Dazai’s hand as he led you to the floor, joining the circle of couples who had already lined up to dance the almaine. 
“I’m still annoyed with you,” you said quietly as the two of you lightly skipped across the floor on your toes, never breaking eye contact with his tawny eyes. That same look was there—it was like he was thinking of everything and nothing all at once. “I’m only agreeing to this so I could boost my status. You just caught me off guard back there. That’s why I acted nice.”
He dramatically pretended he was offended. 
“Why, tesora?” Dazai took both of your hands. You circled around each other gracefully before reversing to step in the other direction. “I saved you! If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be dancing here tonight and finally knowing the name of the poor soul who jumped into the lake!” 
“If it weren’t for you, I also wouldn’t have nearly drowned, idiota,” you glared. 
“Keyword: nearly!” 
You continued sulking at him while the dance went on, ignoring the rest of his defensive sentences and the friendly endearments he added to the end of them. 
“Ow!” 
Dazai had stepped on your foot during another turn. 
“What was that for?” you asked, silently observing how he made sure he did not catch your dress along too, so it would not ruin. 
“Hm? What do you mean?” Dazai spun you again; this time, he stepped on your other foot. 
“Lor- Dazai!” You disliked how much fun he was having with this. Now, he wore a mischievous gleam in his eyes that coupled an unmistakable, playful grin. 
He spun you one last time, and this time, you purposely stepped on his foot. 
“Hey—why did you do that!?” he pouted. 
“Thou did it first,” you replied dryly. “You’re a bad dancer, my lord. You can’t even keep up with the slow ballroom almain.” 
He smirked as the number concluded, and then he brought you to the center of the floor. 
You looked around to see at least half of the couples moving off, either to watch or go elsewhere. 
“Let’s see if you can keep up with this one,” he chuckled lowly. 
“What dance is this?” you asked.
“A galliard. The La Volta.” 
Your lips slightly parted to say something, but you didn’t know what. 
It made sense now why so many chose not to participate in this one. The La Volta was a bit obscene—first, the women were lifted up in springs and jumps, even though that was usually improper. It was also very fast—it would require skill to do it comfortably, especially with the long, heavy gowns you wore. 
Finally, it required close contact between the couples, which was
scandalous. Like a forbidden fruit. 
You had never danced it before. Nor had you planned to. You were engaged, after all.
I bet noone in this room, but Fyodor himself and Ranpo even know we’re to marry, though, you thought to yourself, even though you shouldn’t even be considering excuses. 
And he probably couldn’t even care less.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Dazai said, a bit more seriously, leaving it up to your decision, but his eyes alleged something else. Like he was pleading to let you indulge. 
The forbidden fruit and its serpent. Why was this man always tempting you to things that could sabotage your name? It was as if his heart vowed to drown you to doom

“No, I’ll do it,” you decided. 

yet you had let him, again and again. The descendants of Eve never learned. 
“They call you the Renaissance Man, my lord? I’ll steal your title when I show everyone I can do more than paint
and outdo you in dance.” 
“Dance is a form of art, too, y’know,” Dazai smiled before he parted from you. “How about instead, you think of it like we’re creating our own special piece together.” 
“Competition,” you disagreed in one word, curtsying before him as the drums cued.
“Collaboration,” he bowed. 
You two rose, and a new tension was ignited in the room. Your eyes locked with his again, but this time more determined—more passionate, as you gracefully swept to the left while the brunette the opposite way. You continued that movement while also gravitating closer. 
Closer, until he was finally able to lay hands on your waist. 
“Look up, miss,” Dazai softly reminded you. “Too flustered that you’ve forgotten etiquette?” 
You didn’t even realize your eyes chased down to where he was holding you—no man had touched anywhere near your corset before. You felt nervous; it was supposed to be so wrong, so why did his hold feel so right? As if his fingers were always supposed to be wrapped around you, the final touches to a masterpiece of intimacy. 
You were falling for it—the serpent’s art of seduction. This wasn’t supposed to be a collaboration. 
“What happened to your confidence?” Dazai teased, whispering in your ear; you felt his breath tickling your skin.
Your eyes drifted back to his in embarrassment, but you couldn’t give your rival the entertainment of winning against you in something you proposed. Fighting against your nerves, you wrapped one of your arms around Dazai’s broad shoulder.
“Shut up.”
He lifted you by the hips to aid as you lept and turned around him, his left thigh pushing you upward, and that same nervous excitement returned to your stomach. It was as if pools conjoining both everything and oblivion at once lay physically on you. His gaze resembled hands—he caressed your shoulders; he traced your face like he wanted to paint every angle of you. 
He was gentle with his actual hold on you, too; Dazai carried you as delicately as the brush strokes he made on canvas. He carefully set you down with ease after every jump while still treating you like a porcelain doll, and there you made the mistake of wandering your eyes down to his lips, lightly parted—you realized this was the second closest time this man had come near enough to kiss you. 
His body was so warm, he could pull you flush against him if he wanted to. His breath was minty, the coolness of his mouth addicting, and if Eden smelled heavenly too, he had truly just slithered down, carrying the sweet, earthly scent along with him. All your senses were overloaded by the man standing before you like alcohol; you wondered if you’d even end up home by the end of the night. 
“You’re enjoying this way more than to simply boost thy status.” 
In that moment, you snapped out of your haze of dopamine, and the music faded into a new routine. You also realized that an entire audience had been watching you. That was not ideal. 
You scooted back right after Dazai released his hold on you, looking down in coyness. “Maybe I’m just a good actor.” 
“You’re a terrible one,” he chuckled, following you out of the crowd. “You can’t even look at me to sell your lie!” 
You glared at the brunette once more. “I don’t have to look at you to tell you the truth.” 
“So cold-hearted,” he sighed. “Even after a dance to loosen you up. Guess I need to work harder to ask you out.”
“For what, a double suicide?” You once again recalled some other things he had said during your weird, fated meet at the lake. 
“Exactly! You remember!” 
“Well, sorry, that’s not happening,” you responded. “Go find some other lady to ask. I’m sure you do this all the time anyway.”
Because how did he touch you so perfectly? How did he dim out every other person in the room to make it seem like it was just you two?
He paused. “No, I don’t. You’re the first person I danced this galliard with. You realize we were even in skill, right?” 
“Didn’t seem like it. And I don’t understand why you chose me.”
“You fascinate me, angel of Florence,” Dazai said. “You did save me in a way. Sure, we’re rivals. But one day, I’ll paint you myself. 
“You’re too beautiful to not.” 


“I hope you all have had a lovely night,” Fukuzawa spoke over the room. “To conclude the gathering, I would like to announce what the Vatican’s next project will be.” 
Artists all around you waited in anticipation, for good reason. You and Dazai looked at each other too. You’d already experienced it for yourself—a commission from the Pope himself guaranteed immediate, enormous success (and money; your job from him was your biggest pay so far). Whatever he proposed required another artist, and it could be anyone in the room. 
“The Sistine Chapel,” Fukuzawa said. “The large crack that has formed along the ceiling is to be repaired in the upcoming year.” 
There were a few chatters after that. The chapel was insanely impressive—the interior of the large building was covered in stunning frescos by some of the great artists who had come before you. Even though the Pope hadn’t even said what the job was to be, anyone working on things concerning it would have to be just as good as its predecessors. 
“Along with reparations, its panels shall be painted.” 
There were a few gasps from the patrons. Was that even possible? How could someone even paint the ceiling without it being taken off of the roof? And it was so large, too, like a mega-sized canvas. 
It was unheard of. 
“I have already selected the person I would like to work on this,” Fukuzawa continued. There was silence again. 
“It’s probably Dostoevsky,” Dazai said to you. 
Fyodor? “Why do you think so?” you asked. 
“He completely stole the spotlight with that statue of David he finished this year,” he dryly chuckled. “Well deserved, I’m afraid. You saw it too when you were in Florence, did you?” 
“Yeah,” you replied. You had to acknowledge how impressive it was for yourself. It was like the man turned hard stone into pliable clay. 
“But that’s sculpting, not painting.” 
“Oh? Do you think you’d be a better candidate?” 
He was smiling again. “No, I never said that,” you scoffed. “I was going to say maybe you’d have a chance-”
“Fyodor Dostoevsky,” Fukuzawa said.
Oh.
You paused, scanning the room to see where he was. 
He was on the other side, intently making his way to the Pope. 
“I request you to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.” 
Fyodor stood in front of him and then bowed. 
“...I offer my sincerest gramercy for this opportunity, Your Holiness,” the artist said.
There was a pause.
“
I would like to discuss the rest of what this entails in private.” 
Your brows furrowed. That was almost a bit
rude. Sure, he hadn’t declined the offer, but for whatever reason, he also didn’t accept it. 
“Very well,” Fukuzawa replied without a change in his tone. “I adjourn this party. Bonam noctem.”
There was a final applause for him and the city’s next project, and then everyone began filing out. 
However, you and Dazai stayed in place until Ranpo suddenly tugged on your arm. 
“There you are! Let’s go!” 
“W-Where?” you asked as he started to drag you away. 
“Goodnight!” you heard Dazai say before disappearing into the crowd. His small smile remained in your memory, and a part of you wished you could give him a proper goodbye.
“To eavesdrop, duh,” Ranpo replied as he sifted you through everyone moving the opposite way. “Don’t you also want to hear what Fyodor has to say?” 
“I don’t understand why he didn’t just accept the proposal,” you said. “Anyone else would do it in a heartbeat!” You were sort of jealous; that job was given to someone so ungrateful! If you were the one who recieved it, you would’ve put your entire effort into transforming the ceilings right away. 
“I don’t know how he’s so beloved,” Ranpo continued. “Not even His Holiness likes him that much; he just doesn’t show bias when choosing people to paint his architecture. Did you know Fyodor was supposed to produce his tomb?” 
“What happened with that? I thought it was being worked on by a few other artists.” 
“He kept clashing with His Holiness about it,” he said. “Until the plans got so messed up, Fyodor called it a ‘tragedy’ and left Rome for a while. Quite literally abandoned it.” 
What an asshole! Especially in front of His Holiness!
“I don’t like him at all,” Ranpo squeezed your arm. It had become quite apparent to you that Ranpo admired Fukuzawa—not just because he was his so-called favorite or because he was the Pope, but something else. You had seen them together during the party earlier, and you were reminded of father and son. “He has a nasty ego, and I can’t figure out his intentions. I feel off every time I meet with him.” 
“Intentions? For what?” 
“Don’t be stupid, miss,” Ranpo said. “He told you himself, he’s here for something. It’s just so annoying! He hides it all behind those stupid, purple eyes
” 
You approached the entrance to a hallway at the very back of the room, and you heard two familiar voices outside. 
“...I carve marble, not paint.” 
“You discredit your skill with a brush too much.”
“Your Holiness, we had very different views during the last commission you gave me,” you overheard Fyodor say. “I simply don’t want to cause another commotion with this.” 
You only peeked through the large doorway to hear more clearly, but Ranpo continued walking right in as if they wouldn’t notice. 
“R-Ranpo!” you whispered harshly.
Immediately, Fukuzawa and Fyodor looked at you both, and you scrambled behind Ranpo. 
“I’m so sorry, Your Holiness,” you replied, accidentally locking eyes with Fyodor, who looked at you unfazed as if he had already noticed you two a mile away. You couldn’t even think of an excuse to explain what you were doing there, but then Fukuzawa resumed the conversation without a care. 
“I see then,” he replied and then gave it some thought. “I felt you were the only one who was fit for the matter, but perhaps I could just hand it to-” 
Fukuzawa looked at you, and Fyodor looked at him before looking at you. 
“Ah, what I said was just a concern,” Fyodor interrupted to your dismay. “I’ll accept your commission on one condition.” 
The three of you waited. 
“On the contract, it shall be stated that noone shall view the inside of the Chapel until it is completed,” Fyodor stated. “Including yourself, Your Highness.” 
He thought for another moment. 
“Very well, Fyodor. It will be arranged.” 
What a rat!
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It had been a few weeks since that eventful ball. You had started work on painting the rooms in the Pope’s chambers—there were sketches of concepts scattered all over your desk. Coupled with your thoughts—thoughts reliving all the situations you were thrown into that night. 
You hadn’t seen the two angels since then. Well
would you even call them that anymore?
Knock, knock, knock!
“Hey! Let me in!” You heard Ranpo’s voice from outside your house. You were still half-asleep, trying to make breakfast, but you immediately rushed to open the door. 
“Ranpo!” You were startled. “What are you doing here so early?” 
“Stop complaining. You’re going to love this.” 
He stuck his hand into his pocket and then revealed a set of shiny keys. 
“Sitting in my palm are the keys to the Sistine Chapel.”
“No way.” It was like the sight fully awakened you, like caffeine. “Ranpo
how?!” 
“Hmph!” He shook his head. “You underestimate me so much when you quite literally depend on me!” When you laughed, he continued. “Lord Fyodor’s on a business trip until next week. Do with that info as you wish.” 
“You’re a genius,” you replied with a mischievous grin as he threw you the keys. 
“Of course I am! I despise him, but I’m too lazy to mess with him right now, so I’ll just leave it up to you. After all, he didn’t want to do it initially because he thought you set it up.” 
“By me?” you asked, shocked. “He hates painting so much that he thought I had a hand in it? Imagine giving away the Sistine Chapel.”
He was really something else. Was dead set on declining the offer right until His Holiness debated giving it to me



Ranpo sat at the dining table eating the remaining tarts left over while you finished washing the dishes in the kitchen after your meal. Your move had gone smoothly, and you were pleased with the home you created for yourself—the windows in front of the sink were opened, letting air and the sounds of nature in as you looked outside. 
“His Holiness instructed me to paint over the previous works in the Palace when I first walked inside because he deemed what I could produce more important than what was already up there,” you told him with your own dash of pride. You couldn’t contain the bright smile that flashed on your face. 
“Just as I suspected,” he replied, pleased. 
“...But social-wise, I think I dug a hole for myself.” 
“Definitely!” Ranpo said with no hesitation, popping another dessert into his mouth. He already knew what you were going to talk about. You gave him a look before sighing, realizing that he probably was right.
“A few days ago, I overheard people in the salons saying that
I have a special thing going on with Lord Dazai. It’s not true! I don’t know why he was being so friendly with me!” 
You hadn’t even seen him after that night. Maybe you were a little disappointed, but you should’ve seen that coming anyway. He was known as a charmer, but he hadn’t committed to anyone. And regardless, you were to marry Fyodor one day. 
Ugh, Fyodor.
“And you were friendly to him in return,” Ranpo replied. “You could’ve shrugged him off like normal rivals do. But it looked like you were completely enraptured with him.” 
Enraptured?! He was completely enraptured with me! However, you couldn’t describe to Ranpo how exactly he was—how the brunette’s eyes pleaded with yours to follow him into the eventide, how he made you feel like the only person that existed in the large crowd of people
maybe Ranpo would have his point proven.
“Well, other than that, I’ve got thee settled in Rome well enough. I’ll be here for the rest of the unwise decisions you’re going to make, but from here on out is on you, princess.” 
“Thanks, Ranpo,” you sarcastically replied. “Seriously? Unwise decisions? Rome is just different from everywhere I’ve been to before. I’m learning.” 
“Exactly, there are arts of everything,” he said. “Thou better grasp them quick or fall behind.” 
Dance. 
Deceit.
Dreams. 
Only a few you had discovered so far. 
“You fascinate me, angel of Florence. You did save me in a way.”
You couldn’t even grasp,
Dazai.
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You didn’t know how long you were out. All sense of time was lost when you gained consciousness again, and you realized you had been washed up on land. 
Did God stay true to your pleas? Did an angel really come down to rescue you?
That was certainly what it seemed like in the first few seconds because you were blinded by light when you opened your eyes. You heard insects buzzing off in the distance and maybe even a bird chirping as you lay on lush grass. Perhaps you were in heaven instead, and this was your first taste of peaceful paradise. 
But all was ruined when your eyes finally focused, and a face obstructed your view. (Why was he always ruining your flawless moments?) He hovered on top of you, and the first thing you became aware of was that his mouth was dangerously close to yours. 
You immediately coughed—out of both shock and the need to. Lake water gushed out of your mouth, causing you to sit up without warning. The brunette was flung off of you, landing harshly on his bottom.
“Ow!”
You paid no mind to him as you coughed again. And again. 
When all the water was finally out of your lungs, you looked at him in utter confusion.
“Why the puzzled look?” he asked as if he wasn’t the one who was drowning and you weren’t the one saving him (and less importantly, it hadn’t looked like he was about to kiss you).
Now he sat beside you, almost perfectly fine if it weren’t for his clothes that were soaked. 
“But
you—we were drowning?” You turned to see if anyone else was in the distance because who was it that saved both of you? 
“Yeah, I was drowning,” the man replied, and you now noticed the honey color of his eyes that had been shielded behind closed eyelids and pretty eyelashes earlier. “And this time, it almost worked! Until you decided to rescue me!” 
“Um, what?” You asked sharply, even more bewildered at the way he tried to make your efforts sound negative. 
“At first, I thought maybe thou were a lovely lady who wanted to commit double suicide with me! But I realized that wasn’t the case when you started fighting to get some air
” 
“Are you crazy?” you asked, not caring whether you were speaking impolitely or not. “Double suicide? Why else would I dive into a cold lake to join a stranger? And you were aware of what was happening all along?” 
“Maybe! Women have done a lot to try to get close to me.” You didn’t believe him. “And, well, yeah! Obviously, I couldn’t continue because of two things. The first was you because I couldn’t let an innocent involved be harmed along with me! I had to save you, of course.” 
You became even more irritated. “You wouldn’t have had to if you didn’t pretend you were drowning! I had to use all my strength to rescue you, y’know! I could’ve died as well!” 
“But you didn’t!” the brunette replied. “There was no way I was going to let someone so beautiful drown.”
You scowled at him before you stood up. “You’re ridiculous. What’s your second reason?” 
“Drowning in a lake ended up becoming uncomfortable.” You wanted to punch him in the face—uncomfortable was an obvious understatement. “I didn’t like the feeling of suffocation that set in, so I just decided to give up.” 
“It didn’t even look like you had any air left in you,” you muttered, facing your back towards him, remembering his placid expression earlier. “How were you conscious if you weren’t even holding your breath?” 
“Party trick,” he responded, and when you dared to glance back, he wore a smug grin. 
“Oh
are you leaving me then?” he asked as you started walking away, saying no more. 
“Why wouldn’t I?” you scoffed, not stopping. “I’m completely soaked, and I don’t know about you, but I have important things to get to.” 
You heard a chuckle from him. “Is that so?” he asked. His voice was getting farther, meaning he was no longer following you. “Where are you headed?” 
“Rome.” 
“I live there. Perhaps we shall meet again. And then, I could ask you—properly—if you would like to commit a double suicide with me.” 
“I doubt it,” you replied, assured you were never going to see this man whose face looked kissed by Aphrodite herself again. Perhaps you would’ve found him handsome if he was in a less disheveled state. 
As if you did not already. 
“Why do you seem so sure? Anything can happen.” He chuckled once again. 
Well, I am a painter, and you don’t look like someone who would even have an eye for art, is what you wanted to say. But you didn’t want to open more doors to curiosity and stay there even longer. 
“Maybe you’re right,” you stopped. “Okay, then.
“If you think you’re going to see me again, can you promise to not kill yourself until then? Until I agree to you?” 
You figured you would just give him some hope so that your efforts to save him would not be in vain. If he would actually keep your word, anyway. 
When you turned around, the brunette was still standing on the shore, and he had a smile on his face. 
He really did carry the setting sun in his gaze. It was still midday, but the man’s soul seemed to prefer the softer shades of light that appeared just before the cool shades of night. 
And you felt his eyes tenderly cupping your face, even though you were feet away from each other. You weren’t sure if you were so lost that you were imagining things—but he looked at you as if he’d known you a hundred lifetimes, longing to touch your soul once again. 
“I pinkie promise,” he said. 
You thought that finally ended the conversation, but he asked one more thing. 
“Your name?” he asked. 
“Do you really need it?” It was unlikely, but you didn’t know if he would recognize your name. You didn’t want to risk anyone knowing about this encounter. 
“I saved you,” he said. “I almost thought you were done for. You still weren’t breathing when I performed chest compressions, so I had to—” 
“Okay, stop right there!” you interrupted, becoming flustered. You didn’t need to hear the rest. You imagined the stranger’s mouth on yours—trying to give you oxygen, of course, but his mouth on yours regardless. 
You told him your name. “Don’t bother with yours. I’ll figure it out if we run into each other again.” 
His grin was smug. “Fare thee well, mia belladonna.
“Until we meet again.” 


“You can find anything in the promised land, solnyshka.”
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ur man of choice (or both if u’d like) dances with u during the ball if u rb; reblogs are incredibly cherished; they are what support me the most. <3
WE DID ITT !! i hope this was decent, tbh i’m rly nervous HAHA ᥣ𐭩 dazai rly got most of the love here, but i promise there’s waay more to come.
+ check THIS FOR EXTRA INFO/LORE, it’s cool ;) comment on the masterlist to be added to the tagslist !! & ilu if you made it this far, thank you so so much for reading ᰔ
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TERMS & DEFINITIONS:
CIOPPA - outermost layer of a dress
RUELLA - salons/social gatherings
ALMAINE - slow court dance; GALLIARD - fast court dance (in the renaissance)
TRANSLATIONS: (not all bcz they wanna be mysterious)
gramercy - “thank you”
artigiani; aristocratici - artisans; aristocrats (italian)
bonam noctem - “good night” (latin)
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© AUREATCHI 2024. no reposts or translations. do not steal. support banner + animated line divider by cafekitsune. header + series dividers mine; DO NOT SAVE.
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pillow-anime-talk · 1 year ago
Text
goddess of peace.
request: can you do any record of ragnarok’s gods character with a female reader who is like zhongli from genshin impact?
# tags: headcanon; strangers to lovers or current relationships or marriage relationships; light romance; a bit of fluff; goddess!reader; calm!reader; sfw
includes: female reader ft. hades, poseidon, heracles, loki & beelzebub {ror}
author’s note: yaaaay first ror request!! gimme more
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— HADES
↘ You impressed many gods with your ever calm expression and voice that soothed everyone to sleep or healed mental wounds. No matter what you said, your gentle, almost shy smile and willingness to help made everyone on Olympus and during important meetings agree with you, although you often asked them to oppose your ideas in case of objections.
↘ Many deities gossip about your marriage to Hades – Lord of Death and King of the Underworld. Hades was the man feared by the entire Greek Pantheon, a class of his own and a god who had lived in solitude for thousands of years, his only friend for eternity being himself. So how did a beautiful, gentle, nature-loving woman like you fall in love with him and decide to live in Helheim? You were, after all, the Goddess of Calligraphy, The protector of Artists.
↘ The answer is very simple though. Hades is a secretive romantic and though the flowers you got from him were always withered, they were always the most beautiful gift you could receive because you knew his feelings were sincere. So, although you often missed the view of the sky, the warmth of the sun, running deer or the view of lakes and fields stretching from Mount Olympus, life with Hades was really wonderful, and he was a gallant gentleman bravely leading you by the hand.
↘ Your aura full of peace and nostalgia for the world of the living gave the underworld colors and warmth.
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— POSEIDON
↘ Your close friend was Zeus, who one day organized a grand banquet for an unknown occasion. As his good friend, the Goddess of Science and Philosophy, you sat right next to him at a huge, round table on which meat dishes, all fresh fruits and vegetables, as well as sweets and wine barrels were arranged. Right next to your left sat the King of the Seas and at the same time the older brother of your best friend. Poseidon never got to know you, though of course he heard your name more than once when he spoke to his brothers and the other gods of Olympus.
↘ You were the definition of calm and prudence; your sparkling eyes studied each guest attentively, and you listened to each story with the greatest concentration. From time to time you answered questions from other, more important gods, thanking for each compliment, remark or approval. The fair-haired man didn’t say much that evening, but for the first time in ages he stayed at the table until the end of the meeting and sometimes, without a word, offering you another glass of alcohol or fresh fruit (in his mind, throughout the party, he wrote the dishes you tasted and the sweets that made the biggest smile on your face).
↘ Poseidon was delighted with you, though he couldn’t admit it. Of course he would never do that, especially among other Greek deities. This would create gossip and unnecessary attention to him. He also didn’t want you to feel embarrassed by unpleasant questions or comments.
↘ At the end of a meeting that seemed to last for years, everyone slowly returning to their realms. You also thanked for the meal and amazing company, saying ‘Goodbye’ to Zeus and the others. Poseidon followed you wordlessly. Before the handsome god submerged into the cold water, in gratitude for the nice time he gave you one of the seashells he once found at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. Its shell was white and sparkled like a diamond. Before you could thank him though, Poseidon disappeared into the sea foam and you blushed hardly.
↘ In the world of the gods, giving another person a gift related to the profession of a patron was equivalent to a confession of feelings or a proposal.
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— HERACLES
↘ Heracles from the first time he saw you (more than two thousand years ago) knew that you would be his and would do anything to protect your beautiful soul and precious smile. You were the Queen of the Forest and Meadows, so your nature was calm, patient and also timid. Heracles, on the other hand, as a hero and a man for whom respect for a woman was in the first place, of course, wanted to show you how much you mean to him and how precious flower you are.
↘ His behavior and feelings were very visible. He was like a teenager in love with a huge smile and a fast heartbeat whenever he received words of gratitude from you or small compliments about his strength, agility and acts of heroism towards animals or people.
↘ He is literally delighted and acts like a five-year-old after receiving a candy when you agree to go on a date with him. He probably stays awake for the next week, not eating, and begs Aphrodite and Apollo on his knees to help him with his hair and clothes. He is more than stressed when he thinking about your meeting, but he does not forget for a microsecond a bouquet of your favorite flowers, which he gives you with a shy smile, telling you how beautiful you look that day.
↘ When you thank him for them and take his strong, slightly rough from fighting hand, he almost faints, but don’t worry. It will definitely be the best date in the history of the Greek Pantheon.
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— LOKI
↘ You are his opposite. No one among the Norse gods (and in general all deities that exist) understands your relationship and sincerely sympathizes with you, because Loki is the biggest rascal and jester. However, you don’t think you need sympathy or sad looks; on the contrary – next to him you feel really safe and good. This boy is very considerate of you and really appreciates that someone like the Norse Goddess of Poetry took an interest in him and gave him her fragile heart.
↘ Of course, he’s still a bit mischievous towards you, but his pranks never make you angry or sad. It’s more like jokes about Loki turning into an animal or running away from your kisses, flying high so you can’t reach him.
↘ God of Mischief is like a faithful dog when it comes to you. He always stays close to you, always takes a seat to your left, always looks at your interlocutor with bored eyes, and always tries to get your attention with loud laughter, singing and questions. He is a little attention hoe.
↘ Loki, alone with you, is a little poetry expert who brags to you how many books he has read and what new achievements he has made. He is concerned when he sees your sadness – then he tries hard to cheer you up with silly faces and at the same time puts on a mask of seriousness when he sees that you need a longer and serious conversation. Of course, then he will fly away again and pretend to be a mosquito, but as soon as he comes back to you, he will give you a million kisses. After all, you have exactly eternity for your love.
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— BEELZEBUB
↘ He was horrified when he realized you were more than just a friend to him. He decided to distance himself, but you quickly knocked that idea out of his head, proposing a conversation. Of course, your calm voice and small smile immediately soothed the God of Darkness and made him believe that he would be happy with you.
↘ Being the Goddess of Light and Life was completely at odds with who you married after many years. You were like a beautiful tulip and he was a dried chrysanthemum. Extremely different, but perfectly complementary in terms of your characters and feelings. Your calm nature always soothed Beelzebub’s racing thoughts and his sad eyes, which still seemed not to understand why you gave your precious heart to the one possessed by Satan.
↘ However, you were happy with him and although his hand was always cold and his face was pale and often without a smile, you thought that he was the man you wanted to live with until the end of the world and one more day.
↘ Beelzebub had to admit it – he was damn in love with you and your beautiful aura was what honestly illuminated his previously bleak life. From the moment he met you, the man wanted to live and develop again. With such a queen by his side, nothing could destroy him.
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