#that’s a fancy sketch mind you

[camillehenri]

I’m trying my hand at ink. New sketchbook series. Let’s see if I can keep at it.

A-Abundance.

[sirmanmister]

Faith, Hope, and Love

Day 8 of falloutober! I’ve been busy so unfortunately this is rushed BUT I really like this prompt/my idea for it.

So: Driving forces.

Danse has Faith in the Brotherhood. Preston has Hope in people/humanity. Damien has undying love for his son. Faith, Hope, and Love are what drives them all.

But they’re also what hurts them.

The Brotherhood loses Faith in Danse, Preston loses Hope in humanity, Damien’s undying love becomes conditional. Just as much as they’re defined by their faith and Hope and Love, they’re hurt by them, their Faith and Hope and Love tested and bloodied.

So I think it’s just an awesome parallel and I thank @falloutober yet again for suck sweet prompts

[neliiitoo]

i was inspired by as the world caves in by matt maltese !!! love this song :3

[rolkstone]

If you feel like it could you do Wendell and Wild just being sweet with eachother? Thnx 😊

[ghostslazy]

Extremely rough first stab at the Taz Vs. Dracula lineup bc I love them all so so much already and don’t have the time to finish a lineup of characters for fun rn 🥲

Close up sketches, design notes and surprise drac under the break:

Travis’ characters are always the hardest for me to design idk why, but I made him very western inspired with some vampire hunting flair. Lady Agatha Thistle’s breed was one I hadn’t heard of before but I love a good blood hound. I always end up making Travis’s chapters warm toned, they’re all very red/orange coded to me. (Beef would be the exception I think he’s very pink and blue in my mind)

Clint always makes the sweetest roundest characters I love designing his. I wish we had a cannon spelling because there’s so many directions you can go with “Filo” also his characters are usually green or green adjacent to me. I cant wait to see him bust out more booger potions

Justin never misses with a character and I cling onto every single one he makes so quickly and violently it’s getting embarrassing. I like the idea that she would still dress extremely fancy and posh even tho her new body should be in some battle ready armor. Also I made her blue since she is a Frankenstein’s monster and most likely wouldn’t have the blood flow to have a human color. Plus I love the monster high color palettes so I’m referencing a little bit. Justin has very cool coded characters to me, lots of blue and purple and forest greens.

Probably not sticking with this Dracula design but I want him to love a bit more silly and slick, I think having him be lanky and shorter will pair him very well against our rough and rowdy boys

[zae-heeyyy]

Valor

Summary: Arthur takes you on one of his adventures. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!Reader Word Count: 1,760 Trigger Warning: Animal attack, angry-ish Arthur, violence Tags: mid- high honor Arthur, damsel in destress, fluff, and angst

a/n: Hey y'all! It's been a while since I posted because life is crazy right now. This is a request from @littlemistey. I'm paraphrasing from our convo, "Arthur x reader where the reader is saved by Arthur from almost being mauled by a cougar or a pack of wolves." Sketches are copied/cut from Arthur's journal. A classic "Arthur Morgan, please save me" trope. Thanks for reading!

Valor: Great courage in the face of danger, especially in battle. It denotes bravery and heroism, particularly in challenging or risky situations.

The bones in your wrists ached with the numbing weight of boredom as another morning of chores lumbered on. In, around, under, off. In, around, under, off. In, around, under, off. Intertwined pieces of yarn grew longer at your feet as the knitting cadence played in your head. You'd zoned out, daydreaming of anything more exciting than this.

A rhythmic clank of guns on a belt alerted you to your approaching burly cowboy.

You would've been glad to see him any other time, but your contempt for your chores and an odd hat on his head made you groan with irritation. A lit cigarette sat snug between his lips as he talked, muffling his speech.

"Why you sittin' here with your lip stuck out?" he asked, adjusting his belt and sitting beside you on a wooden crate. He tossed the cigarette away, leaned over to kiss the temple of your head, and placed a hand on the small of your back.

"Bored outta my mind," you complained. The sun reflected off a shiny decorative piece on his hat, making you squint. "And why are you wearing that stupid hat?"

"What?" he opened his hands out questioningly with a goofy grin stretched across his face. "A man keeps this camp afloat, and he can't even wear a nice hat without his lady callin' it stupid."  

You rolled your eyes and gestured to all the women in the camp, cleaning tables and guns, sewing, and helping with dinner.

"No, we keep this camp afloat while you men are out doing god knows what," you said, your stitches getting sloppier as your vexation grew. "I'm losing my mind here. Meanwhile, you come back with fancy trinkets, weird statues, emeralds, and crazy hats! You know, I think you do the robbing and hunting only sometimes, and when that's done, you're just out there playing around!"

You finally stopped knitting and turned to Arthur, whose playful grin had faltered into a thoughtful glance. You continued your monologue, "Ugh! I swear, if you don't get me outta here, I'm gonna stab Grimshaw through the eye with this needle!"

You held the sharp point inches away from Arthur's face, prompting him to snatch it from you. "Alright, easy there." He grabbed your hand in two of his gloved ones and glanced at it from under the brim of his hat, thinking for a long moment, "Fine, you can come with me long as nobody gets stabbed. Can't have a degenerate murderer loose in this camp, now, can we?"

Ignoring his sarcasm, you squealed excitedly and jumped up from your spot, pulling on Arthur's arm to make him stand, too.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you said between the many kisses you laid on him. He stilled you with firm hands on your waist and chuckled.

"I reckon it won't be as exciting as you think, but I can't say no to you."

Within a few minutes, you were ready to go, aiming and checking the ammo on a varmint rifle that Arthur had given you.

"Met a strange feller, Algernon Wasp. He's a— he has— well, he— he's an artist, I guess; he's paying me to collect some stuff for his, uh, creations. Bird feathers, orchids, that kind of stuff. Would be faster with the two of us."

And that's how you found yourself in the swamps of Lemoyne with the varmint rifle slung over your shoulder as you swatted away mosquitoes and sweated your ass off. You were hot, thirsty, and worst of all, you'd only found four of the seven cigar orchids you needed.

Mud squelched under your feet as you followed behind Arthur; you spoke exasperatedly, "how much is this fool paying you for all this?"

Arthur had gone quieter as you'd gotten more frustrated over the hours. Both of you were starting to regret this decision.

"I don't know. Money is money," he said dismissively, his head on a swivel and eyes focused. You were bothered that he could so easily spot plants and always knew which direction to go, expecting you to keep pace with his long strides when mud weighed down your skirts, slowing you down. You knew it was irrational, but you were mad at him for dragging you out here despite your near begging.

The heat was getting to you, and you'd lost control of the filter from your brain to your mouth. Arthur was a few feet ahead when you started your mumbling, "goddamn swamps is no place for a lady. Gators, mud, bugs and—" You didn't get to finish your sentence before Arthur spun and made two giant steps toward you, jaw clenched.

"You got something to say?"

You crossed your arms, defiant. Arthur's reputation as a vicious intimidator didn't phase you, though. He wouldn't lay a finger on you; you both knew it. You rolled your eyes and said, "this is as boring as being back at camp, except I'm all dirty now."

He stepped closer into your space, his angry eyes searching yours. He spoke in a low volume that would scare anybody but you: "This is what you wanted, woman, so don't go gettin' mad at me because things ain't all neat and proper."

Were you frightened by him? No. Were your feelings hurt? Yes. You scoffed and nodded slowly while you spoke, "You're right. I'm gonna head to camp. I'll see you when you get back."

You didn't give him the chance to respond before you trudged in the other direction, clicking for your horse waiting nearby. Arthur watched you go until he lost sight of you in the overgrown vegetation.

Then you were on the road, your horse at a trot, when something in his line of vision spooked him. Before you could even react, you were bucked off, your head hitting the ground with a thud. Despite the pain, you knew better than to just lay there. Gators and snakes were everywhere, but only something notably terrifying would scare off your Andalusian. You took the rifle off your back, pointing it aimlessly all around, trying to focus your spinning vision on the threat beyond.

Before you could blink, a big cat took hold of your leg through your skirt. You shot wildly once, twice, then three times before the beast let go of you. Screaming at the top of your lungs, you scrambled backward as more bullets rang out from your low-caliber weapon. Hoping and praying, you squeezed the trigger one last time. Eyes closed, you prepared for the inevitable when a louder shot rang out somewhere near you.

When pain and death didn't come, you opened your eyes to see Arthur standing over you, concern distorting his face. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead, and he huffed, trying to catch his breath. His hands scoured every inch of you, searching for signs of bleeding. Panic started to set in again when you realized you couldn't feel anything; you held your breath as Arthur pulled up the hem of your dress, bracing for the worst.

You breathed a sigh of relief and let your head fall back onto the ground. The puncture was minor, no worse than a needle prick. Arthur stood, using his arm to wipe away the perspiration that had soaked him. Then his anger started up again.

"Can't go getting hurt like that, girl. Shouldn't've let you run off by yourself. If something happened to you, I'd—"

"Shut up, Arthur," you rose back up and tried to smile through your unease. "I'm fine, thanks to you."

He held out a hand to pull you back to your feet, then wrapped his arms around you tight. His heart hammered against his chest, and you could hear your blood rushing through your ears. Then you finally let yourself cry in the safety of all his bulk.

"I'm sorry, sweet girl; I'm sorry." Every shakey inhale, sob, and gasp from you ripped him apart from the inside out. He was supposed to be looking after you, always, but his hardheadedness and pride left you vulnerable. Killing was the one thing he knew he was good for, and to almost fail at the cost of your life made his insides rot with guilt.

He peeled you away from his chest and cupped your face, "I won't let anything else happen to you, ya' hear?" You nodded, and he wiped dirt and tears away from your cheek with a big thumb and brought you back into him, stroking the back of your head. After a long moment, he retrieved your horse, helped you, and then rode beside you the whole way back to camp.

The next day, you gladly did your chores while Arthur went on his adventures. You didn't complain in the comfort and safety of a shade tree and other skilled gunmen. You were sitting in his tent when Arthur returned in the evening, now wearing his regular gambler's hat and carrying another adorned with floral designs and a peacock feather.

He greeted you with a peck on your cheek, joined you on the cot, and talked through a crooked smile, "found the rest of those orchids today and gave 'em to Algernon. Took this instead of the money. Think he was happier with that trade, anyway."  

The closer you looked at the beautiful monstrosity, the more you had to fight off your reaction. It was undeniably unique, but you couldn't image anyone wearing it seriously.

"It's um—," You covered your mouth to stifle your giggle, but your quaking shoulders gave you away. To your relief, Arthur joined in your laugh and placed the hat atop your head.

"He tried to give it to me, made me try it on, but I figured it'd look better on you. Now we both got a crazy hat."

The idea of Arthur standing in front of a mirror in the hat with all his hardened features made you throw your head back in near hysterics.

"Well, I will cherish that image and this hat forever. Thank you." Arthur's face softened as your amusement died down, then morphed into a lamentable combination of worry and self-loathing. You recognized it all too well.  

He stroked your face with the back of his hand and spoke in a hushed tone, "I'm sorry, again, for letting you go off by yourself like that. I—"

You silenced him with your lips, pushing him onto his back and mounting him. Your new hat fell away along with his worry as you showed him just how appreciative you were.

[prettyobsessed]

⋆·˚ ༘ *🎀Perfumed Reverie🩰* ༘✧˚⋆·

🌊 / pairings: Rafayel / fem!reader *. ⋆ / genre: Story plot with smut [nsfw 18+, mdni] 𓇼 / tags: nsfw, romantic smut, lyrical writing, slight action smut, smut with plot, mutual attraction, slight jealousy, perfume obsession, kisses, body appreciation, hand job, clit fingering, nipple kink, nipple licking, slight sub/dom play, tying kink, ribbon kink, cock teasing, kissing, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, perfume kink, cum in mouth, savouring cum, mature sexual content, romantic, romantic smut 🐚 / word count: 6.6k

 ₊⊹summary₊˚⊹

In "Perfumed Reverie," the narrator prepares for Rafayel's celebration with meticulous detail, anticipating the evening ahead. Rafayel's thoughtful gift adds to the excitement. At the party, amidst the vibrant atmosphere, the narrator finds herself drawn to Rafayel's magnetic presence. Their connection deepens as Rafayel's curiosity about the narrator’s perfume sparks a moment of intimacy. Amidst the chaos, their bond strengthens, leaving both eager for more.

𓍢ִ໋🐇₊˚*ੈ♡⸝⸝𓆝🧸⋆

The sun cast a warm glow over the bustling city streets as I set out to find the perfect gift for Rafayel, my heart brimming with anticipation. As I navigated the crowded sidewalks, lost in thought, I was interrupted by the unexpected voice of Nero, my teammate from UNICORNS.

"Hey, fancy meeting with you. Mind if I join you for lunch? I've been dying to hear more about that eye you keep mentioning the other day,” Nero said with a grin that seemed a tad too eager. A memory flashed in my mind, the image of what lay behind the mysterious curtain stirring a sense of unease within me. Ignoring the knot of unease tightening in my stomach, I forced a polite smile and replied with a hesitant nod, "Sure, why not. I could use the company... and perhaps your opinion on something."

We settled into a nearby café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the chatter of patrons. Nero leaned in eagerly, his eyes alight with curiosity. “So, tell me more about the eye. Could you describe it in detail? I'm fascinated by it," he urged, his enthusiasm bordering on obsession.

As I recounted the details of the memory, Nero hung on my every word, his fascination evident in the way he leaned closer, his breathless anticipation palpable. "Wow," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. Then, with a slight cough, he added, "Um, do you think you could draw it again for me?" There was a hint of demand in his tone, as if he couldn't bear the thought of waiting any longer to see the image.

Unease prickled at the back of my mind, a sense of distrust creeping in as Nero's fixation on the eye grew more pronounced. “It's just for research purposes," Nero added, his voice taking on a low and dark tone that set off alarm bells in my mind.Reluctantly, I hastily sketched the image for him, feeling a sense of discomfort lingering in the air. Sensing my discomfort, I shifted the conversation, suggesting we divert our attention to finding a gift for my friend, Rafayel. Nero readily agreed, and we set off on a leisurely stroll through the city streets, our laughter blending with the hum of conversation. As we strolled along, an unsettling feeling nagged at the back of my mind, refusing to dissipate. 

Yet, for the moment, I pushed aside my suspicions and focused on the task at hand.

Amidst the charming boutiques and shops, my gaze was drawn to a stunning opal watch, its iridescent hues casting a spellbinding shimmer in the sunlight. Each facet of the opal seemed to dance with a kaleidoscope of colours, evoking an ethereal beauty that captured the essence of elegance and sophistication. The sleek design of the watch, adorned with intricate detailing and polished to perfection, spoke volumes of craftsmanship and quality. As I admired its captivating allure, I couldn't help but be reminded of Rafayel's discerning taste and penchant for the finer things in life.

Nero glanced over my shoulder at the opulent timepiece, his curiosity piqued. "A gift?" he inquired, his brow raised in intrigue. I turned to face him, a smile playing at the corners of my lips. "Yes, what do you think?" I asked, eager for his opinion. "It's nice," Nero replied with a nod, his tone neutral.

Taking Nero's brief assessment into account, I made the decision to purchase the watch for Rafayel. Just as I was admiring the opal watch, the salesperson approached with a warm smile. "Would you like to add a personal message to accompany the gift?" she asked kindly. "Yes, please," I replied, grateful for the opportunity to personalise the present for Rafayel. Quickly, I penned down my heartfelt message: “To Rafayel, Congrats on the collaboration! I’m super proud of you. This gift is a token of my support and belief in your talents. Hope you like it ♡ With love, Y/N x”.

With a sense of satisfaction, I passed the note back to the salesperson, who carefully tucked it into the gift bag alongside the opulent timepiece.

I continued my journey through the lively streets alongside Nero. The vibrant energy of the city enveloped me, infusing every step with a sense of anticipation. Before we could part ways, a familiar voice called out my name—it was Rafayel. My heart skipped a beat as I quickly hid the gift behind my back, feeling a wave of nervousness wash over me. I stole a glance at Nero, wondering how he would react to Rafayel's unexpected appearance. 

As Rafayel approached, a nervous flutter danced in my chest, my anticipation mingling with apprehension. "Well, well, well, look who's out here on a date," Rafayel remarked with a hint of jealousy in his tone, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in our proximity.

Rafayel's gaze shifted to Nero, his expression clouded with doubt and suspicion. The tension between them was palpable, casting a shadow over the otherwise pleasant encounter. I exchanged a subtle glance with Rafayel, silently urging him to keep calm and not let his insecurities get the best of him. I mouthed the word ‘Stop it’ to Rafayel, hoping to diffuse the tension. “Rafayel, this is Nero,” I introduced, my voice steady despite the underlying tension. “He's my colleague. Nero, meet Rafayel. He's... well, let's just say he's always looking out for me,” I added with a hint of playfulness, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Hey, nice to meet you. Congrats on the collab!” Nero greeted, his voice laced with genuine warmth as he attempted to break the ice and alleviate the awkwardness of the situation. In response, Rafayel’s demeanour remained guarded, his arms crossed defensively as he replied in a monotone voice, “Thanks.”

Sensing the strained atmosphere, Nero decided to make his exit. "Umm, I better get going. See you at work next Monday?" he said, his departure a relief in the tense moment. I nodded in agreement, bidding him farewell silently appreciating his timing. As Nero walked away, Rafayel's eyes narrowed, his distrust evident in the furrow of his brow.

"Why are you being so rude to him?" I questioned, my tone tinged with suspicion, as I searched Rafayel's face for any signs of jealousy or insecurity. Rafayel's response was edged with sarcasm. "Oh yeah, why are you being so nice to him? You like him, that nerd?" His distrust of Nero was palpable.

I mirrored his tone, matching his sarcasm. “So what if I like him?” I retorted, feigning nonchalance. “There's nothing you can do about it.” Rafayel leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. “Nah, I know you don't like him,” he remarked, his words carrying a hint of certainty. With a mischievous smirk, he added, “Besides, why waste your time thinking about anyone else when you could be thinking about me?” His playful remark caught me off guard, a flush of frustration rising to my cheeks as I struggled to maintain composure.

Reiterating once more that Nero was merely a colleague, I hoped to ease Rafayel's concerns.

“Pfft. Anyways, this is for you. Wear it to the party later?” Rafayel said, his tone softening as he handed me a small, elegantly wrapped package. “Ooh, what is it? Can I open it now?” I asked eagerly, excitement bubbling within me. Rafayel chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Not now. Open it later when you get home,” he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Since Rafayel had already given me a gift, I pulled out the carefully wrapped present I had purchased for him. “I got you a gift too. Open it later and let me know if you like it. Or not. Whatever,” I said nonchalantly, though inwardly hoping that Rafayel would appreciate the gesture.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

As the clock chimed 6, signalling the beginning of the evening's arrival, I immersed myself in the preparations for Rafayel's celebration. My fingertips danced over the intricate jacquard fabric of my dress that I selected just for the party, marvelling at its luxurious texture and the way it cascaded elegantly around me. The crystal trim adorning the bodice caught the light, casting a mesmerising array of patterns across the room and infusing the ensemble with an irresistible allure. With its back lace-up closure, the dress whispered promises of sophistication and glamour, setting the stage for an unforgettable night. And to complete the look, I selected a white satin ribbon to adorn my hair, adding a touch of understated glamour to the ensemble.

Amidst the whirlwind of anticipation, my gaze fell upon the elegantly wrapped package Rafayel had presented earlier. With a gentle tug, the ribbon unfurled, revealing the treasure concealed within. Nestled within the folds of tissue paper lay a bottle of exquisite high-end perfume, encased in a pearlescent shell that shimmered like moonlight on water. As I lifted the fragrance to my nose, its enchanting blend of plum and freesia enveloped me in a delicate embrace, transporting me to a realm of opulence and elegance. Each inhale awakened my senses, stirring a symphony of emotions within me.

Accompanying the perfume was a handwritten note from Rafayel, his words infused with warmth and affection. "A gift for the beautiful Y/N," it read, his endearing nickname bringing a smile to my lips. "When I stumbled upon this packaging and scent, it instantly reminded me of you. Your vibrant spirit and unwavering kindness deserve only the finest. See you later, my silly goose."

The tender sentiment warmed my heart with a sweetness that only Rafayel could evoke, a testament to his thoughtfulness and consideration. Amidst the heartfelt sentiment, there was a playful touch that spoke of his penchant for light-hearted jests. 

With a smile on my lips, a flutter of excitement coursed through me at the thought of wearing the enchanting scent to the party. With Rafayel's thoughtful gesture nestled close to my heart, I eagerly anticipated the evening party.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

As I made my grand entrance into Rafayel's house party, the room seemed to buzz with anticipation, a kaleidoscope of colours and sounds swirling around me. The air was alive with the tinkling of glasses, the rhythmic beat of music, and the low hum of conversation. Dressed in an ensemble that exuded elegance and sophistication, I felt a surge of confidence as I navigated through the crowd, drawing admiring glances from all who crossed my path.

Amidst the throng of guests, my gaze was irresistibly drawn to Rafayel, who stood amidst a cluster of people, his magnetic presence undeniable. Our eyes locked, and for a moment, it felt as though the rest of the world faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of us in our own private universe. His smile was like a beacon in the dimly lit room, warming my heart and igniting a spark of excitement within me.

Before I could make my way over to him, however, Thomas intercepted Rafayel, guiding him towards a group of potential clients. I watched with a mixture of disappointment and understanding as Rafayel was swept away, his attention momentarily diverted from me.

As I mingled with the guests, my thoughts kept drifting back to Rafayel, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his charismatic charm. Despite the gravity of my duty to protect him, my attention was unwaveringly fixed on him, drawn to his presence like a moth to a flame. Yet, amidst the distractions of the party, I remained vigilant, my focus unwavering as I monitored the surrounding and every movement. Ready to intervene at a moment's notice, I kept a watchful eye on him, ensuring his safety was paramount above all else.

Suddenly, a soft vibration in my pocket broke through my reverie, signalling an incoming message on my phone. With a quick glance, I saw that it was from Rafayel. "You looked stunning tonight. Can you rescue me from this crowd, pretty please?" His words brought a smile to my lips, a warmth spreading through me at the thought of him reaching out to me.

I quickly tapped out a reply, my fingers dancing across the screen. "You're doing great! Just a few more hours to go! Hang in there." As I hit send, I couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in my chest, knowing that even amidst the chaos of the party, Rafayel and I shared a special connection that transcended the confines of the room. With renewed determination, I plunged back into the festivities, my heart filled with anticipation for what the night might bring.

Discreetly, I checked the holster of my concealed weapon, its comforting weight serving as a reassuring reminder of my preparedness for any unforeseen threats that might arise during the festivities. As I moved through the throng of guests, my attention was momentarily diverted by a mirror reflecting the scene before me. In its glassy surface, I caught a glimpse of a looming figure, cloaked in darkness and watching me intently. 

A chill swept through me as I turned to confront the mysterious presence, but it vanished into thin air before my eyes. The image lingered in my mind—a spectre of unease that left me unsettled. I could have sworn I saw the glint of a pair of spectacles, reminiscent of Nero's distinctive style. Intrigued and wary, I resolved to investigate further. With each step, my senses sharpened, my hand instinctively gravitating towards the reassuring weight of my concealed weapon. Suddenly, a subtle vibration against my wrist alerted me to an urgent message on my Hunter's Watch—a Wanderer had been detected in close proximity, its threat level ranging from moderate to potentially dangerous.

Utilising my honed training and quick-thinking abilities, I sprang into action with a swift and decisive motion. With a determined focus, I swiftly herded the unsuspecting guests to safety, ensuring their protection before confronting the looming threat of the Wanderer. As the Wanderer crashed through the balcony roof like an uninvited intruder, its menacing tail resembling that of a scorpion's, I surveyed the room with a keen eye, ensuring that no one remained in harm's way. With a steady hand and unwavering resolve, I drew my weapon—a formidable tool enhanced by Protocore Energy—and took aim at the looming menace.

Rafayel stood at my side as the Wanderer's monstrous form bore down on us, his presence a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos. With a nod of silent understanding, we synchronised our movements, our synergy honed through countless battles fought together. Fuelled by deadly intent, the Wanderer lunged forward, its razor-sharp claws slashing through the air. In response, I unleashed a barrage of shots from my enhanced weapon, each blast powered by the pulsating energy of Protocore. 

The projectiles streaked through the air with deadly precision, finding their mark on the creature's armoured hide, but it remained undeterred, its ferocity undiminished. In the midst of the fray, Rafayel stepped forward, his eyes ablaze with determination. 

With a fluid motion, he unleashed his signature move, the Four Scourges—a devastating flurry of strikes that unleashed a torrent of energy upon the Wanderer, shaking its monstrous form to its core.

But the creature was relentless, its primal fury driving it forward with unyielding determination. With a roar that reverberated through the room, it launched itself at us once more, its jaws gaping wide in a feral snarl. Drawing upon our shared bond and unspoken camaraderie, Rafayel and I unleashed our ultimate technique: Abyssal Beacon and Abyssal Shadow—a dazzling display of power and precision that unleashed a torrent of energy, engulfing the Wanderer in a blinding vortex of light and force.As the echoes of our combined assault faded, the room fell silent, save for the gentle crackle of dissipating energy. The Wanderer lay defeated, its once-mighty form reduced to naught but a lifeless husk.

With a shared nod of triumph, Rafayel and I stood victorious, our bond stronger than ever in the face of adversity. 

Approaching the fallen Wanderer, I scanned the room for any lingering threats, my senses heightened by the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. With cautious steps, I retrieved its Protocore, ensuring no remnants of its malevolent energy lingered behind. As I claimed the precious artefact, the body of the Wanderer began to dissipate into sparkling dust, a testament to our hard-won victory.

With the room now safe, I gestured for the guests to return to the ballroom, their applause a symphony of gratitude for our valiant efforts. The sound echoed off the walls, filling the air with a sense of relief and triumph. Thomas stepped forward to address them. "Thank you all for your understanding and cooperation," he announced, his voice carrying across the room with sincerity. "For the safety of everyone present, we must end the event early. Please make your way home safely."

With heartfelt thanks and apologies, Thomas bid the guests farewell, his words imbued with genuine warmth and gratitude. Meanwhile, Rafayel remained by my side, his concern evident in the gentle scrutiny of his gaze. “Ms Bodyguard, are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft with worry as he inspected my injuries.

Turning to Rafayel, I felt a surge of gratitude for his unwavering support. "I'm fine," I assured him, offering a reassuring smile. "Just a few scratches." Rafayel's expression softened, his touch warm and comforting as he gently took my hands in his. "I'm glad you're safe,“ he murmured, his voice filled with genuine relief.

Amidst the few lingering guests in the background, helpers scurried about, diligently tidying the aftermath of the Wanderer's unwelcome intrusion into the party, as glints of glass shards shimmered in the dim light. Rafayel then led me to another room—a sanctuary within his embrace—his bedroom. The windows were open, allowing the gentle sea breeze to sway the curtains in a graceful dance. The scent of the ocean wafted in, mingling with the subtle aroma of Rafayel's presence, creating an atmosphere of serene tranquility. His room exuded a sense of majesty, adorned with elegant furnishings and offering a breathtaking view of the ocean beyond.

The soft glow of moonlight cast ethereal patterns across the room, illuminating the space with a magical aura. The walls exuded elegance, adorned with intricate tapestries and ornate moldings that enhanced the room's sense of refinement and sophistication. Plush carpets adorned the floor, inviting us to sink our feet into their luxurious embrace.

As Rafayel rummaged for the ointment to tend to my injuries, I couldn't help but admire the way the moonlight played upon his features, casting a halo of light around him. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of curiosity and admiration, his movements graceful and deliberate as he searched for the right supplies. It was moments like these that made me acutely aware of the magnetic pull he had on me, drawing me closer with each passing second.

“I almost couldn’t concentrate fighting the Wanderer. What is that scent you’re wearing?” Rafayel's curiosity sparked as he rummaged for ointment to tend to my injuries. "Is that the perfume I gave you?" he inquired, his interest piqued by the lingering fragrance in the air.

I nodded in affirmation, a small smile gracing my lips. I watched as his gaze lingered on me, his curiosity evident as he took in the lingering fragrance of my perfume. The air between us seemed to crackle with anticipation, charged with an unspoken tension that left me breathless with excitement. As he leaned in to take another whiff of the scent, I couldn't help but feel nervously attracted to him.

Rafayel exuded an irresistible allure tonight, his hair tousled in a way that accentuated his rugged charm. There was a disoriented yet undeniably magnetic quality about him, as if my perfume had ensnared his senses and left him spellbound. He moved with a sense of urgency, flitting back and forth between attending to my injuries and searching for the ointment, his actions driven by an unspoken desire to be near me. Clad in a white collared shirt adorned with delicate pearly buttons, Rafayel's attire only added to his allure. The fabric clung to his frame, hinting at the contours of his muscular physique, while his slightly exposed chest sent a flurry of anticipation coursing through me, my heart quickening with every beat.

"Show me the scratches," Rafayel requested, his voice laced with concern. Despite the worry etched on his face, there was an underlying warmth that drew me closer to him. Feeling a surge of confidence enveloping me in his presence, I decided to indulge in a playful moment, relishing the anticipation building between us. With a coy grin, I allowed my fingers to glide along the fabric of my dress, slowly revealing the scratch nestled provocatively above my upper thigh.

"Right here," I said in a low, teasing voice, relishing the subtle flush that crept up his ears and the intensity of his gaze fixed on my exposed skin.

Rafayel's gaze intensified, his eyes locked on the exposed skin, his breath growing heavy. With a sense of urgency, he retrieved the ointment from his drawer, his movements deliberate as he applied it to my skin. His touch lingered, evoking a tingling sensation that stirred a rush of anticipation within me. “And here,” I continued, pointing to the scratch on my chest, just above my décolletage, revelling in the closeness between us. Rafayel stood before me, his proximity closer than ever, his eyes glazed over with delight as he leaned in to inhale the intoxicating scent once more on my chest to my neck. His breath hitched, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against my skin, a silent testament to the effect I had on him.

My heart raced with excitement as his touch lingered, each caress invoking a cascade of tingling sensations that danced across my skin like a symphony of desire. The air between us hummed with a potent energy, thick with desire and longing.

“Are you okay?” I asked, a surge of concern washing over me as Rafayel seemed to falter. Supporting him to a bench nestled at the foot of his bed, I sat beside him and searched his eyes for any signs of distress. “I don’t know,” Rafayel confessed, his voice tinged with wonder. “I was fine before the party started. But as soon as you came, I got caught up with your scent. And the more I catch the scent of your perfume, the more it seems to bewitch me. It's like...” He trailed off, struggling to articulate the intensity of his feelings.

Rafayel's confession left me breathless, his words painting a picture of vulnerability and desire. "It's like your scent has woven its way into my very being," he murmured, his voice a mixture of awe and fascination, his breath hitching with each word. The intensity in his gaze held me captive, drawing me closer to him as if we were bound by an invisible thread of longing. As Rafayel admitted his vulnerability, a surge of tenderness washed over me, mingling with the raw passion that surged between us.

He took my hand, bringing it close to his face to revel in the scent, almost as if he were savouring a rare delicacy. His touch was electric, sparking a rush of warmth that enveloped me, each caress leaving me breathless and yearning for more.

It’s like he’s being taken over by my perfume. He’s caressing my hand with his face, indulging in the scent that’s making him high. While he’s being obsessed with my scent, I couldn't help but notice the opal watch adorning his wrist, the one I had gifted him. With a soft smile, I traced the lines of his face with gentle reverence, feeling the weight of his words in the air between us. “You’re watching the watch. It suits you well,” I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Rafayel's response was a whisper of his own, filled with promise and longing. "It's a reminder that I'm bound to you forever." Taking his hand in mine, I brought it close to my face, allowing him to revel in the scent that seemed to draw us closer with each passing moment. His gaze locked with mine, a silent plea lingering in his eyes.

"Kiss me, please?” he breathed, his voice a soft plea that stirred something deep within me.

Lost in the moment, I couldn't resist the allure of his disheveled appearance, his tousled hair adding to his irresistible charm. Without hesitation, I leaned in and kissed him, savouring the taste of his lips against mine. As the kiss deepened, I felt Rafayel's hands pull me closer, his touch sparked a symphony of sensations, each note playing a melody of longing that reverberated through every fiber of my being.

Rafayel's grip tightened around my waist, drawing me impossibly closer as our ardor surged to intoxicating heights. Feeling emboldened by his touch, I reciprocated his desire, my hands trailing down his neck to the exposed skin of his chest, then further down to the defined contours of his abs. With each touch, he reacted, his body jolting responding to my caress with a mix of pleasure and anticipation.

Still nestled in his embrace, I rested my left arm against his back, feeling the reassuring warmth of his skin beneath my touch. With my right fingers, I traced delicate patterns along his abdomen, following the enticing path of his happy trail as it disappeared below his belly button. Each stroke elicited a shiver of pleasure from Rafayel, his body responding to my touch with a mix of anticipation and desire.

With a daring glint in his eye, Rafayel teased, "Don't take your hands off me. Go further down, I dare you." His voice carried a seductive challenge, a playful invitation to delve deeper into the depths of our shared desire without inhibition.

His words hung in the air like a potent aphrodisiac, sending a rush of anticipation coursing through me, urging me to delve deeper into the realms of carnal delight. With a mischievous grin, I accepted his challenge, allowing my fingertips to continue their descent, tracing a tantalising path along the contours of his body. My fingers trailed from his abs to his pants, tiptoeing and caressing his growing erection with just my finger. Rafayel's hand reached out, a silent plea for restraint, yet his eyes betrayed the true depth of his desire. 

“If you don’t stop, I won’t be able to leave,” Rafayel murmured, his gaze locked with mine—a silent invitation to indulge in the passion that simmered between us. The essence of Rafayel's words permeated the air, lingering like an intoxicating fragrance that enveloped us both. His gaze, locked with mine, spoke volumes, silently beckoning me to embrace the intoxicating passion that simmered between us.

"Good," I purred, my voice laced with a hint of mischief. "Because I don't plan on stopping." Rafayel's reaction was immediate, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips at my words. With a boldness that matched his own, I brushed his hand aside, allowing my fingers to continue their languid exploration of his hardened length. Each stroke elicited a soft gasp from him, his body responding eagerly to my touch.

His breath hitched in his throat, a symphony of desire escaping his lips in soft moans that filled the air. 

My fingers traced patterns of arousal along his length, teasing and tempting him with every caress. Leaning in closer, I whispered words of longing against his skin, my breath hot against his ear. With each passing moment, the anticipation grew thicker, the hunger in his eyes mirroring my own. I revelled in the delicious torture of the moment, savouring the intoxicating dance of desire that enveloped us both.

With a daring glint in my eye, I continued to tease him, drawing circles on his throbbing arousal, each touch sending a surge of pleasure coursing through him. My fingers lingered on his clothed erection before deftly unbuttoning his pants, granting me access to his hard erection. With each button undone, my anticipation swelled, eager to explore the depths of his desire and fulfil our mutual craving for ecstasy.

Once I unbuttoned Rafayel’s pants, I liberated his shaft from its fabric confines. Unveiling his arousal, I found myself entranced by the mesmerising sight. Long, girthy and slightly curved. I couldn’t imagine the sensations it would evoke and how it would feel like being filled by him. I leaned in closer, my breath hot against his skin as I whispered words of longing. 

His hardened length stood tall and commanding, pulsating with an undeniable vigor that spoke volumes. Without hesitation, I leaned in, my lips parting as I released a small stream of saliva onto his throbbing member. The slickness of my saliva enhanced the sensation as I slowly wrapped my hand around his hardness, feeling the heat and hardness beneath my touch. Our eyes locked in a heated exchange, a silent understanding passing between us as I continued to stroke him with deliberate slowness.

The anticipation hung heavy in the air as Rafayel, emboldened by desire, reached for the top of my dress, pulling it down to reveal my pert nipple. His touch was gentle yet firm as he traced the contours of my breast, his warm breath igniting a tempest of sensations within me. I gasped as his lips closed around my nipple, his tongue dancing and swirling, setting my nerve endings ablaze with ecstasy. The intensity of his ministrations sent bolts of raw pleasure shooting through my body, kindling an insatiable desire that surged from the depths of my being.

"It's hard not to bite what's already near my mouth," Rafayel chuckled softly, his voice a velvety whisper tinged with desire. The playful edge in his tone heightened the already intoxicating arousal that surrounded us like a tangible heat. With each stroke of my hand and flick of his tongue, he seemed to embrace his primal instincts and his movements growing increasingly feral.

Sensing my eagerness, Rafayel lifted me effortlessly, guiding me to straddle him as we made our way to his satin bed awaiting us. His touch was electrifying, his hands roaming over my body with a possessive urgency that set my skin ablaze with desire. "May I?" Rafayel's voice was a husky whisper, his eyes dark with longing as he gestured towards the dress that adorned my form.

"Yes," I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper as I surrendered to the intoxicating pull of desire.

With practiced ease, Rafayel deftly stripped me of my dress, leaving me clad only in delicate lace and the weapon concealed within. As the dress pooled at my feet, I discreetly removed the gun, tucking it away in a safe place, ensuring our passion remained undisturbed by external threats. In turn, Rafayel shed his top, revealing the chiseled contours of his chest, each muscle defined and sculpted beneath the surface. Despite undressing, he kept the watch on. As he tenderly guided me onto the plush satin sheets, his gaze locked with mine, his lips leaving a trail of delicate kisses along my skin, each touch igniting a wildfire of sensation. With each caress, he worshipped every inch of my being, his hands tracing the contours of my body with reverence, as if I were a precious work of art to be cherished.

Descending with purpose, his lips trailed a path of anticipation down to my stomach, then further still, until he reached the apex of my desire. With skilful hands, he parted my folds, eagerly savouring my taste as his tongue explored every inch of my quivering flesh. Lost in the throes of passion, he ravished me with fervent kisses and expert strokes, driving me to the brink of ecstasy.

With a gentle gesture, he offered his fingers to my eager mouth, coaxing me to coat them with my saliva. Without hesitation, I complied, relishing the taste of our shared desire. As he slowly inserted his finger into my dripping core, a wave of pleasure surged through me, intensifying with each rhythmic circle he traced.

The sensation was overwhelming, my body trembling with need as he skilfully brought me to the brink of release. And in a moment of pure ecstasy, I surrendered to the pleasure, succumbing to the powerful climax he had orchestrated with his masterful touch.

As waves of pleasure continued to ripple through my body, I basked in the afterglow of my climax, feeling every nerve ending alight with bliss. I luxuriated in the lingering sensation, relishing the intoxicating rush that coursed through me.

But even amidst the haze of ecstasy, my desire for Rafayel burned brighter than ever, urging me to reciprocate the pleasure he had so generously bestowed upon me. With a languid grace, I shifted my focus, my gaze locking with his as I conveyed my silent gratitude.

“I wanna try something,” I murmured, a mischievous glint in my eye as I reached for the white ribbon that adorned my hair. Removing it with a practiced twist, I used the ribbon to bind Rafayel's hands, securing them above his head as I took my rightful place atop him. With a playful smirk, I teased his senses, trailing kisses and caresses along his body.

The satin ribbon felt smooth against my fingertips as I expertly tied his wrists, the fabric contrasting with the heat radiating from his skin. With each knot, I could sense his anticipation building, his breath quickening in anticipation of what was to come. “Is this like… a new kink of yours?” Rafayel teased, a playful grin dancing on his lips as he observed me with curious amusement. His eyes sparkled with intrigue, betraying the hint of excitement stirring within him. 

I responded with a coy grin, my lips curling into a mischievous smile as I nodded in affirmation.

As I leaned down to place a soft kiss on his lips, I could feel the tension in his muscles, his body straining against the restraints in a delicious mix of desire and surrender.

With his hands bound above his head, Rafayel lay helpless beneath me, his eyes dark with desire as I explored every inch of his body with kisses and feather-light touches. The air was thick with anticipation as I trailed my lips along his jawline, down his neck, and across his chest. With each caress, I could feel the intensity of his arousal building, his skin flushing with heat as he surrendered to the pleasure of my touch.

Rafayel's breath hitched in his throat as I continued my sensual assault, his moans filling the room with a symphony of pleasure. The faint scent of arousal hung in the air, mingling with the heady aroma of our desire as I teased him relentlessly. “Fuck…Y/N, stop teasing me,” His voice was a husky whisper, each word laced with desperation and longing. His hands strained against the ribbon, a silent plea for more, as I revelled in the power I held over him.

I leaned in closer, my lips hovering just out of reach as I whispered, "You know you love it when I tease you." The heat of his skin beneath my fingertips was intoxicating, driving me to push him further, to see how far I could take him before he begged for release.

With a wicked grin, I allowed him to untie himself, his hands immediately finding their way to my body, pulling me closer in a desperate embrace. His hands roam freely as he pulled me closer, our bodies intertwining in a passionate embrace. Guiding his throbbing member to my dripping core, I lowered myself onto him, savouring the exquisite feeling of fullness as he filled me completely.

I stroke Rafayel's cock with my clit, relishing the sensation of his hardness against my sensitive flesh. Releasing his cock from my core momentarily, I coat his pulsating member with my saliva, reveling in the intimacy of the act. The look of desire in his eyes fuels my own arousal, and I love every moment of tempting and teasing him.

Inching deeper, I circle my hips slowly, ensuring every movement brings him exquisite pleasure. His moans of ecstasy spur me on, driving me to explore every inch of his length with my tight, wet pussy. With each deliberate motion, I feel him responding to my touch, his cock throbbing with need beneath me.

"So fucking pretty, my princess," Rafayel moans, his words stirring a carnal hunger deep within me, every syllable like a siren's call, beckoning me further into the abyss of ecstasy. The endearing nickname he gives me only heightens my arousal, causing my pussy to tighten around him involuntarily. His eyes widen in surprise and delight, realising the effect his words have on me. With each fervent thrust, I surrender to the pleasure, riding him with an insatiable hunger that knows no bounds.

"I'm gonna—,” Rafayel groaned, his voice strained with desire as he neared the brink of release. 

With a wicked grin, I withdrew from his pulsating member, the taste of his arousal lingering on my tongue. "Cum in here," I purred, my lips parting in invitation as I offered myself to him once more. Rafayel's eyes widened in anticipation, his hands gripping the sheets tightly as he surrendered to the pleasure coursing through him.

In a moment of pure ecstasy, Rafayel released his cum into my waiting mouth, his essence a delicious elixir that I eagerly savoured. Being the insatiable vixen that I am, I devoured his cock for the last time, each movement of my tongue prolonging his orgasm and intensifying his pleasure. His moans grew deeper, more desperate, as he held onto me tightly, not wanting to let go. With a teasing swivel of my tongue on the tip of his cock, his whole body jerked in response, his desire reaching new heights.

As he throbbed with the aftershocks of pleasure, I met his gaze with a sultry smile, his heartfelt admission of love resounding in the air like a whispered promise. "I adore you, every inch of you," he confessed—his voice a seductive melody that danced on the edge of desire.

"Please… never leave me again," he murmured, his hands cradling my face with a tenderness that spoke volumes of his longing. The sincerity in his gaze, the yearning in his touch, echoed the depths of his desire to hold onto our love, to never let it slip away again.

Savouring the moment, I met his gaze with a sultry smile, my own confession of love hanging between us like a delicate promise waiting to be fulfilled. “I promise. Among all the fishies in the sea, you're the one who caught my eye. Unless you’re begging to be released again,” I teased, my voice tinged with affection as I gazed into Rafayel's mesmerising eyes, feeling the weight of my love for him in every word.

Rafayel and I found ourselves entangled in a playful banter afterwards.

“Says the one who doesn't know how to row the boat!” Rafayel teased, casting a knowing glance at me. The memory of our ill-fated boating excursion flashed through my mind, a moment of levity amidst the tension. "Says the one who ended up tossing his lunch overboard.... and well, couldn't resist taking the bait,” I playfully retorted, a mischievous glint in my eyes as I teased Rafayel. He mockingly gasped, placing a hand over his heart. "Oh, the audacity! Here I am, pouring my heart out, and you're just here for the catch and release." I leaned in closer, my lips curling into a smirk. "Well, you must admit, Rafayel, I do have quite the knack for reeling you in."

He chuckled, his laughter filling the air as he leaned back, a playful glint in his eyes. "Touché, my dear. Touché indeed." Just then, Rafayel leaned in, his lips brushing against my neck as he inhaled the lingering scent of plum and freesia. "I need you to spray more perfume on here, Ms. Bodyguard," he murmured with a playful tone, his breath warm against my skin. I playfully swatted his arm, laughing at the ticklish sensation. His playful request to apply the perfume only added to the intimacy between us, as I surrendered to the warmth of his embrace. Allowing myself to bask in the warmth of Rafayel's presence, I closed my eyes. In his arms, I found solace, a sanctuary where love and laughter intertwined to form an unbreakable bond.

—by prettyobsessed🎀⋆⁺₊⋆ ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

Editor’s note: this is for the Rafayel girlies out there! i intended to write something sweeter for Rafayel's smut, but the direction changed. hmm, we'll see. i might tweak around a bit more. also, doesn't Nero seem a little suspicious? i recently replayed the chapters again and started noticing his peculiar behaviour. but either way, hope you enjoyed this one! ᵔᴗᵔ

[waxingrunes]

Ghostface Thriller

This was supposed to be my original fully fleshed out Halloween gig but I changed my mind at the eleventh hour to something else. I only have these very rough shallow sketches to offer that started the whole thing. Read on for a little texting excerpt of their conversation from this moment.

And for one single (quite tame?) Ao3 continuation.

Sirius: you know, this whole conversation is just proving more and more disappointing ghostie

Ghost: Why’s that.

Sirius: well

Sirius: the more you talk the more you

Sirius: this is gonna sound weird but you know when you can grow attracted to the way someone sounds without ever seeing their face? the way they hold themselves like through the screen, the way they talj

Sirius: talk*

Ghost: Are you about to tell me you’re crushing on me, pretty?

Sirius: i mean

Sirius: im telling you i think the way you talk is attractive and despite the damning circumstances you’re actually kinda smart

Sirius: you have to be to get away with the sick shit you do :)

Ghost: Mm, nobody’s made me blush before.

Sirius: me calling you a sick shit made you blush?

Ghost: And sent a jolt straight to my c*** little pretty.

Sirius: romantic

Ghost: Struggling to understand what’s disappointing about any of this.

Sirius: oh right

Sirius: well it’s just you sound hot but obviously you’re not actually you know

Sirius: hot

A moment passes where Sirius swaps the phone between one clammy palm to the other, doubting his turn of phrase with the radio silence that’d been dealt.

Staring at the bottom of the screen he waited another whole minute for the three dots to appear, which was excellent restraint in his books, before huffing out a breath through his nose and yielding.

Sirius: no ten wears a mask

Sirius: if you were as attractive as your fancy words make you sound you’d make it known

Ghost: You’re trying to unmask me through the phone and here I was thinking I was the pervert.

Sirius: doesn’t pretty get at least one photo

Sirius: of something? anything? to aid my crush :(

Ghost: Ask nicely.

Sirius readjusted, looking up to the ceiling as if he was going to find some sort of resolve there. What wasn’t yet clear, was whether it was the weight of the situation that was getting to his head and making his tummy swoop with this roleplay he’d voluntarily landed himself in, or, he really had a fucking crush.

Wetting his lips, he swallowed and was already blindly tapping out his response before his eyes fell to it again.

Sirius: please ghostie

Moments passed. Deadweight moments where Sirius convinced himself his shadow was moving on its own accord. In reality it was a handful of seconds but it felt like minutes, ticking by with the faint feeling of something hot dripping down the back of his throat.

Ghost: I don’t make a habit of sending selfies to my toys.

Sirius stared at the photo. It was his time to go quiet now, for reasons he planned to take to the grave; an event which may end up closing in sooner than anticipated if he plays his cards wrong.

Ghost: Tick-Tock, pretty. What you looking at?

The bastard.

Sirius: not much apparently

Sirius: i mean nothing i haven’t seen before apart from your legs

Sirius: never seen those out before

Ghost: You a leg man?

Against his will, Sirius giggled. Flushed in an instance from shame and shock and the feeling of very sudden self-awareness, but still had to swallow the tail end of it.

Sirius: am i going to get anything else more

Sirius: motivating

Sirius: i’ve been good all week and followed your orders

Sirius: i haven’t argued

Ghost: Oh, pretty. Come on now.

Sirius: okay but

Sirius: wouldn’t you get bored if i made it easy

Ghost: Clever boy.

Sirius squeezed his legs together, sinking further into the cushions.

Sirius: then reward me

Sirius: please

Sirius: please please please

Ghost: You’ll get what you want soon, but for now…

Another picture came through and for a sharp second, Sirius hesitated. It wouldn’t be his face, surely. He knew that and yet the moment felt pivotal either way as he hovered his thumb over the attachment and tried levelling his rattling heart.

He opened it, simultaneously losing feeling in his fingers and gaining it elsewhere.

Ghost: I wasn’t kidding about that jolt, not that hard yet but you’re doing a good job pretty.

Picture no.2

[queenie-avenue]

Hii! 🌟

So..i want ask for request about CEO ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

What if one day reader is caught sketching the CEO in some fancy clothes? Would he like to wear this for reader?

(Thank you in advance! Hope u have really good day 👁️〰️👁️)

/// sorry for my English kinda bad at grammar (ง’̀-‘́)ง

He'll wear anything you make.

💌 ⤻ THE CEO, Adrian Houde

—> he's your muse, you're his obsession.

⤻ reader is gender neutral, reader has a crush on Adrian, obsessive behaviour, posessive thoughts, snooping, fluff, red flags but they aren't so apparent.

notes: i altered the prompt a bit, i hope you don't mind but thank you for the ask! i'm glad you like adrian as much as i do. feel free to send in more asks! love the cute emoticons btw <3 did not proofread, we die like men.

Adrian strolled about the fashion department, his hands raking across the abandoned tables now that everyone had headed home. He rolled up his sleeves to check the time as he walked past the messy and cluttered desks, the heels of his shoes clacking against the floor.

One might ask, what was the CEO of the company doing so late at the fashion department? Everyone had gone home, clocking off early for the holidays — even the ever-busy fashion team — except him. His blue eyes raked across the table as he searched for your table, and finally, he came across it and smiled.

You didn't have a table before, you cramped alongside the lower level employees but well, Adrian pulled some strings here and there for you to get your own table.

It also made it easier for him to look through your belongings.

"Hm?" He hummed when he saw an unfamiliar book on the table. He had memorised every detail of your table, to the point where he knew where you put your emergency snacks — sometimes even refilling them for you anonymously — but this sketchbook was new.

He knew it was wrong to sneak into someone's belongings, and his grandmother would no doubt absolutely pulverise him for such ungentlemanly actions but you already belonged to him. You didn't, but you would soon.

He was slowly cracking you down, he knew. Adrian could still see the blush on your face when you were caught staring at him for too long.

His nimble hands reached for the book and flipped through them. The pages crinkling in his hands as he gazed at all of the different designs. His eyes slowly widened as he recognised the dimples on the model's face, the tousled blonde hair, the dashing pale blue eyes, and the silhouettes you had crafted just for him. The suits, some dresses, some eccentric, some more subdued, and multiple designs made with styles he had a penchant for.

He smiled, knowing that you had to have been observing him rather closely to be able to craft such flattering outfits for him.

"Hah," he breathed out, feeling his cheeks heat up. "You're driving me crazy." He whispered to himself as he felt his entire body grow hot.

He continued to flip through the pages, taking in the sight of him as your muse. He almost wanted to hop in his car and drive off to your house now just to kiss you but he had to restrain himself.

He was a gentleman; even if he snuck into your belongings. He would wait for a while more. His grandmother had always said that a prolonged courting period was needed, filled with flowers, chocolates, gifts, and, of course, polite flirting.

He placed the book on the floor and snapped a few pictures, making sure to make it look accidental, like he had just stumbled across it and sent it to you.

Adrian. H: Stumbled across a cute little thing on the way to a late-night meeting. Mind if I get it privately made? I'd love to wear something you made.

He smirked, knowing that you would fluster. He just wished you were here just so he could see colour fill your face. He made a note to visit the fashion department during lunchtime just to tease you further. Maybe he'd even wear something akin to your designs tomorrow.

He just wanted to get this courting phase over so he could wrap you in his arms like a snake and never let go.

Your sketchbook was practically an invitation for him to do so.

[newnlovesjennie]

op hcs: how they propose

luffy:

he’d do it completely spontaneously; in the middle of a dinner between you two, a stargazing session, literally anything

“hey, we’re gettin’ married, aren’t we? once i become pirate king?” he’d casually drop, making you spit out your drink

of course, there’s nothing you’d want more than to have luffy be your husband, but you’d expected a little more preparation then this

but you’d agree and promise, letting the notion of being married go since the journey to finding the one piece still has a long way to go

until your feet are engrossed in the sand of laughtale, staring at the shore ahead of you when luffy surprises you from behind, gripping your shoulders with pure amusement and pride

“this means we’re officially married, right? you get to be my wife!” he’d laugh, and a part of you doesn’t have the heart to tell him about weddings or marriage certificates and all that nonsense, because you’re intertwined with the man you call your husband right now, and that’s all that matters

sanji:

he’d been dropping hints about getting married throughout your relationship, but they were mere fantasies or jokes, in reality, he was pretty anxious about the whole ordeal

(i mean, he’s already had a wedding before, and we know how that went….)

a part of him still thinks the entire situation is too good to be true, it’s too impossible for someone as perfect as you to want to be with him, let alone forever. he’s sure you just want something casual, something temporary, and though it breaks him, he’ll tolerate it, for you

though, then he hears you comment about how big the kitchen should be in your shared future home, or if it’s okay if you can plant a garden in the backyard? you’ll smile while passing by wedding dress shops, and your fingertips will linger around sanji’s ring finger, which he always keeps vacant, a homage to his adoration for you

these little victories will give sanji the confidence he needs to actually propose, which he does, in the aftermath of the grand party the crew hosts once they reach laughtale

rose petals surround you, scented candles are lit, and sanji is down on a knee with a beautiful ring in his hand, with a look in his eyes not driven by lust, by want, but instead a look of pure warmth, fondness. it’s no surprise you say yes.

zoro:

not to be that person, but zoro feels like the kind of person to find marriage and proposals too old fashioned

he already loves you and you already love him, and he ensures that love is properly painted so the whole world can see just how much you mean to him. so what could two rings change?

he doesn’t understand why girlfriend and wife must hold different weights, when both should mean the same thing, devotion, but he sees how much it means to you, so he proposes immediately after the crew finds the one piece

“shit, was it supposed to be all fancy n’ stuff? i should’ve brought a bouquet of flowers or somethin’…”

you know your boyfriend, sorry, fiancé can be a bit rough on the edges, but his utmost loyalty for you will never change.

usopp:

similarly to sanji, dude would be freaked out of his fucking mind

he envisioned a life with you since the day you two met, he just shoved that fantasy deep into his brain as something as improbable as luffy refusing meat

call him stalkerish, but he’d sketch your future house well before you two began dating

usopp wasn’t the kind of person to engage in flings, frankly, his heart can’t handle it. the moment he got with you he prayed and hoped it would last forever, since he had already pledged his heart to you long before, and detaching it would be a painful process

thankfully, you reciprocated, to his surprise, and wanted to spend your life with him just as he did with you

[records-of-dirt]

Create Your Own Soil Profile!

A garden’s soil is the base of all its growth, and knowing how to properly  interact with your soil can make all the difference!

Step 1 Site Observations

Take a few photos of your site (project area)

Note down:

what vegetation is there?

is it near water?

the slope

approximate exposure to sun

Step 2 Take a soil profile

Set out a tarp or a garbage bag

Dig a hole about 3 feet deep (you may want a friend’s help!)

Place that soil in piles onto the tarp, sorted into different soil layers

Remember horizons! (O, A, E, B, C, R(bedrock))

Make a sketch of a soil profile, and measure the depth of each horizon

The top of the profile should start with 0 cm

Refill the hole, and try to return each type of soil in order!

Step 3 Build your profile

Describe each layer of soil, moisture/structure/color/smell

Use the “feel” method to take notes

Step 4 Drainage

Dig a hole 1 foot deep and 1 foot wide(ish)

Fill the hole with water and measure how long it takes to fully drain

An ideal time is around 10 to 30 minutes!

Note down the time

Keep in mind that even if the soil type would suit desert-like plants more, think of the weather. If it rains a good deal the drainage can matter less(or more!)

Step 5 Biological Activity

Bury a pair of cotton underwear(I know it’s silly)

Wait about 60 days

Unearth the undies, the more tattered they are the more activity there is!

Step 6 pH Testing

OSU Lab for Oregon, and many states have soil testing labs

Soil pH Meter

DIY Test

Step 7 Hardiness Zone

This just takes looking at a map!

Hardiness zones can tell you about the weather’s highs & lows in a particular area

USDA Plant Hardiness Map

And that 's it! It's a lot, and you don’t have to do everything. Each step can provide a better view of how to properly support your garden, and can be fun activities to do with friends and family!

I’ve included a template for a complete soil profile, but feel free to make them as fancy as y’all want!

Sincerely,

records of dirt

[zwhoreo]

Why be sad when you can be horny instead? Luffy cheering you up by eating you out #TeamSmut

I’M POSTING AGAIN!! now with my THIRD story about luffy eating you out on the deck of the ship

cheering you up - luffy x f!reader

smut

summary: while you’re lethargic and sad from being on sea for so long, luffy offers oral sex to cheer you up one night

contains: oral (f receiving)

words: 1.9k

_______________________________

You’re sad, not by any particular event but just by the way monotony permeates. The sea is large. It takes a long time to sail between islands, exciting adventures that take a few days are framed by weeks and weeks at sea with nothing other than your friends, your boyfriend, yourself. That last part doesn’t sound so bad, right? Your friends, your boyfriend.

Luffy rests his chin on your shoulder and begs for attention. He’s sprawled all limp and tangled and he’s been whining for the last hour about how bored he is, how much he wants to go exploring and do something fun and even this fancy ship gets boring after awhile, he doesn’t want to look at the fish or play on the deck anymore. You love him but he’s just been so bratty recently, uninterested in anything. You aren’t sure how to entertain him and he just always, always wants to be with you and it’s getting exhausting, you’re so, so tired. So you rest in bed and pet his hair as he complains about wanting to go on adventure and be somewhere else.

Everyone else is irritable and tired, especially because of how hot it’s been recently and nobody likes to rot in the sun in the middle of the ocean. You know what happens with your best friends, where you see them so much that there isn’t much new to talk about? So you’re mostly quiet when you’re sketching with Nami, or reading with Robin, or fishing with Usopp. Or napping with Luffy.

It’s late in the evening but you’re taking a nap anyways, you’re feeling sort of depressed and lethargic and it’s all catching up to you at around 6 PM. You ask for Luffy to come cuddle you even though this is his time to beg Sanji for more food after dinner, the only time of the day he’s really been at his full energy. But he won’t turn you down so he squeezes your hand and pulls you into bed with him.

You lay down. You get under the blankets and take Luffy and tuck him against your chest like a stuffed animal. You can move him around however you want, he won’t mind. He huffs contentedly and quickly goes to sleep with his head between your breasts, clutching you around the waist, snoring loudly.

And even though your eyes hurt and your body’s sore and all you want is to let the rest of the evening slip by in dreams you can’t somehow. You just stay awake with this sweaty boy in your arms, squeezed too tight, and he isn’t a quiet sleeper even when you try to still him so he just squirms and murmurs against you and there’s nothing you can do.

You turn your attention to caring for him, just trying for some sort of comfort. You kiss his greasy hair and whisper little compliments, you massage his back, he loves your touch so much, smiling against you in his dreams. This makes you happy but you still feel sick in your heart, uncomfortable and tired and lonely. The room suddenly feels too hot, oppressive, you need to leave and go get some fresh air.

So, because you don’t want to wake him, you eventually ease a pillow into Luffy’s arms in the absence of your embrace. You slip out of bed, you need fresh air.

There’s a spot you’ve found, a support platform halfway up the tallest mast. You go here when you want to be alone. You’re rocked and the world tilts as the waves crash beneath you, climbing higher, higher. Your feet are bare against the rope ladder, thick knots digging into the soles of your feet. But now on this platform you can breathe. You can see every single star and galaxy from here, black purple blue, a glimmering ballroom of constellations that mirror the wine-dark sea. You are the world’s meridian.

Your body turns off, mind drifting away because you’ve always loved outer space. If you were floating a million light years away then everything would just disappear which sounds nice right now. You close your eyes. You are the universe.

But your body is shaken by the sudden rocking of the mast, you have to scurry to keep from falling as the wood creaks. The loud snap of elastic, a body slams next to you with a clumsy bounce and there he sits, legs spread, looking at you with huge, curious eyes.

“Hey Luffy,” you move close to him. You don’t want to be in the stars if you can’t take him with you.

“Whatcha doin’?” He's quiet, wistful. He looks a little hurt to have been left alone, he doesn’t understand.

“Just needed some air. It’s ok, you can stay,” you say even though he would’ve stayed anyway.

He takes your hand, tracing your fingers, off in his own little world. You feel sad and lonely again. This is your boyfriend, why can’t you talk to him? Tell him how you feel. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t understand, really, he’ll just be there for you. But don’t make him worry, don’t make him upset. But no, tell him, you have to talk to him or you’ll cry right now. Right now.

“I’ve been sad,” you whisper to the ocean below.

“Hm?” Luffy’s arms wrap around you slowly. He presses his cheek to yours, searching your face, so confused. “How come?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. Sometimes I just get kinda depressed being on this ship for so long between islands, you know? Especially when everyone else is bored and tired, and when the weather’s bad. And we’re low on food, I’m sick of fish. I’m just getting frustrated all the time and I hate it.” Once you start to let it out you can’t stop. You wipe your face with your hands, sniffing.

He listens, not speaking, not moving except for those hands rubbing yours. And when you’re done he puts his chin on your shoulder. “Yeah, me too. I get what ya mean.” But soon his face is against yours again, so tender now. “Can I help make you feel better, though?”

You smile. You’re so glad you told him, he’s so sweet and good to you. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Hey, this’ll make ya happier! Nami told me we’re close to an island, the tide’s changing or somethin’!”

“Really? How long?” He’s right, you do feel happier.

“Mm, I dunno that part.” His chin’s back on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shoulda asked.”

“That’s ok.” You sigh, but you’re still smiling. “It’s enough to know we’re close.”

“Yeah, but you’re still not feelin’ well. An island in the future is no good if you’re feeling bad tonight, huh?”

“My body hurts… I’ve been sitting and resting too much, I think.” It’s true, your legs are sore and heavy. Bones have turned to stone in their hibernation.

“Yeah? Let’s take care of that.” His hands go to you, rubbing your thighs beneath the silk of your night dress, your waist, your shoulders. “Mm, hey, you wanna play? Would that make you happier and make yer body not hurt so much?” He’s murmuring into your ear, smiling with his teeth.

“What kinda play?”

“Sex? You wanna have sex? It’s been awhile.” Luffy licks his lips, mind racing. “I could… eat ya? Y’know, that thing we do sometimes? Where I-”

“Please,” you say so quickly. Maybe this is therapy you crave. Release all this time before you start anew, release it for him to devour.

He laughs loudly, sitting back against the mast. “Heh, ok, lie down and lemme hold you. I got you, love.” His eyes twinkle.

You face him, you get on your back on the wood, head turned away toward the endless stretch of night and sea. And Luffy wraps his arms around your thighs, propping your legs up, spread for him, you feel him nuzzle your thigh and huff against you as he returns to this scent he loves.

You both breathe as one in a long, deep rhythm as his nose presses against you there, right there. Soft moist warmth for Luffy, damp lacy fabric perfect to chew and taste. Teeth gnaw on you through your panties, dull but hungry. You pulse there with every swallow against nothing, nerves lighting you up down to your toes.

“You’re teasing me…” you whine, reminding him of where he is.

“Heh, sorry.” But he’s lost in you, he’s not in any hurry. Until, of course, his tongue catches the arousal that drips out of you and that’s where he needs to go, he decides.

So he casually rips away your panties and smiles at what’s his. You’re at the center of his world and this is how he’ll feast on the meridian.

He quickly bites your clit, not hard but enough to make your whole body twitch. He’s so good at doing what you’ve taught him. And god he does look stunning from here, he pushes his hat back and shiny, jet-black hair tickles your inner thighs. You run your hand through it and tug, curling your body up to stroke his cheek and now you’ve got his attention, you just wanted to see those big, chocolate eyes.

It’s with care that he dips his tongue lower, slowly lapping at you as you get wetter for him, he’s getting loud now as he usually does and the vibrations from his moaning makes you tremble in his arms. And when you tremble, he squeezes you tighter. Warm arms, so different from the sky.

Closer, closer, it’s almost painful it’s so deep and perfect. Your hips move on instinct, riding his tongue, pulling you into this vortex, deep and deeper it comes in waves. The ship rocks and you sway together.

He buzzes against you with a shiver and a sound of joy when your orgasm hits deep. You moan and reach for him immediately and he looks up at you, mouth soaked, he asks, “ya done? Feel better?” smile unbroken.

“Mhm, a lot better.” And he’s in your arms now. You cuddle on that little wooden platform beneath the moon. The heartache and soreness and exhaustion is all new and perfect now. So much better.

“Hey thanks for cheering me up. You felt so good, Lu.” Your voice is a quiet whisper on the wind as you stroke his hair, his muscles twitch around you with the remnants of that powerful joy.

“Heh, tasted good. Glad you’re ok. This mean you’ll come back and sleep with me now?” He’s tilting his head like a little puppy, your scent warm on his breath.

“Yeah. But I wanna watch the stars for a little longer.” You lay against him. You’re sitting, now, interlocked and inseparable. You drip down there from him, so warm against the wood, nerves still on fire. And those stars up there are all suns, you know. They’re all on fire too. You’re amazed at how alight the night is. And this wind from the east, I guess this is what it means to be close to land. Those clouds, maybe that’s what they mean too, shot with colors from no direction, full and aimless.

Luffy is content with you. He’s ok with you watching the sky. All he says is, “that’s alright. Long as I can stay here and hold ya.”

[raviosrupees]

My parent rates LU Link's based on first impressions

[warning foul language, mention of alcohol, and my parents very negative impression of Wars !!! note this is my parents impression based off of the LU concept sketches + descriptions. a lot of em aren't accurate]

TIME

Very God of War, Kratos. PTSD Link.

when all the others are hanging out he's in the cups. He fought the moon? Sounds about right. Everyone else is talking and goofing off and he's got the thousand yard stare.

No one talks about how he cant get a full nights sleep. Please let him nap. Maybe let the owl take a nap too.

*stares at him for a very long time, before taking a sip of mimosa*

TWILIGHT

blond hiccup [httyd] very viking. Humble? Hiccup. Animal whisperer? Does he have a dragon? he turns in to a wolf? good for hiccup. getting over a complicated relationship? ...... h-

OH HE HAS GOATS? I love goats! Love this guy.

WARRIORS

Ah, douchy paladin! Yeah he's got the hip flex, he knows he's the shit. Very prideful? Of course you are. Leader type? Women problems? Not surprised. [said they most wanted to punch this one]

"This one writes himself. On Reddit forums"

FOUR [their 3rd fav]

"eeny meeny hippy genie" They've got the weird flowy scarf hat, they're super tiny! Dwarf.. chaos gremlin-- No that's a changeling! I don't think that's actually a Link, I think they faked their way in. Not that I blame them, its a pretty cool crew to be a part of. Spy for the fae realm.

WILD

5th grade school photo link. He's really excited for his first day of school and has a planner for all of his classes.

Good at navigation? Kudos for being a good boy scout.

Her 2nd favorite.

WILD

"Legolas Link" he likes to run on snow, flip his hair back + forth and shit talk dwarves [changeling doesn't like that]

"takes any questioning of his princess too personally? Why are they questioning his princess in the first place? *squints* Why is he so upset? Feel like maybe we need some codependency therapy-

IDENTITY CRISIS DUE TO MEMORY LOSS???? oh no, there we go, the therapy- INSECURE? THE ONLY ONE THAT FAILED? Dude, I think douchy paladin needs to take him to therapy-, maybe it'll convince him to get some too.

Proceeds to go into a rant about his sheikah tech being called weird magic: "Why are they calling his magic weird? That's rude ! They need to have more open minds, no wonder he's insecure! He just needs to feel confident and supported in his new environment and they're not being very supportive right now!"

*orders another mimosa*

LEGEND [their favorite]

"We've got stoner wizard link..." "Which one?" "He's wearing red, and like a fancy staff with a ball at the end for walloping on people who say he's not a real wizard" He just smacks em and says duh yes I am, but usually he doesn't bother with it bc he's too chill.

He's the Millenial of the linked universe. "Chooses not to be a leader type? 'Nope, Im good, just here for a paycheck not a promotion. Some PTO would be nice. Another adventure? He'd rather start a commune"

"Seems unaffected by his adventures?" Uhh he is though. He's just delusional about it now.

HYRULE

Classic link [true] silent generation, nobody acknowledges him. "just happy to be included," mistaken as a hobbit.

"He's actually a traveler, never stays in one place" "Ah so post adventure Bilbo baggins, who wants to see mountains again."

*starts singing "the road goes ever on and on"*

SKY

Foppy link. Fabulous haircut, cape swooped over one shoulder with the gorgeous coloring, contrasting belt-- he knows color schemes way too well, he could be in project runway.

"Not the leader type? Sure he's too busy worrying about fabric swatches. Views the master sword as a blessing? Yeah, I bet he does."

Very confidently decided his Zelda is a beard.

[seneon]

SKETCHING SPIDERS ──── rayne ames x fem! reader.

about. whatever you draw on your skin, the same drawing will appear on your soulmate as well. ROYAL! AU. sfw + suggestive, reader's surname is archer, mentions of alcohol. wc of 3.2k.

notes. i'm experimenting. also first week of exams done i have math, business & accounting next week 😭😭

overcast clouds and the grey shades engulf the vast sky. you're seated in the royal room of a class for the children of nobles, fidgeting with a clean feather quill that was played by your fingers.

as usual, it is another boring day as an academic victim of the noble standards. in a classroom full of the descendants or the next heir of royal and noble families, they were all academically intelligent. for the future of their family, of course. that is no surprise, considering you have to study hard to maintain a good status in your family of nobles.

as the tutor continued to speak his mind out about philosophy or the sort, you looked around the classroom. for a high-class classroom, there sure is quite some dust in the high ceilings that nobody could reach up to.

you see many concentric circles woven by threads at the far corner, all meeting at one common centre. a genius idea then sprouted in your mind like the multi-legged creatures that created those corner ceiling webs.

the quill that you were just fiddling with became an item to use as your teacher rambled on and on about the stars and how to read them astrologically. you used it in a wiser way rather than write a bunch of fancy words into sketching. an act that only the royal artists could carry out.

first, you dipped your quill into the ink and lightly flicked the access ink off. then you lifted the sleeves of your lace coral pink dress, turning your left arm the other way. your seatmate, nora martin, watched in silence as her eyebrows scrunched in anticipation of what you were about to do with your lifted sleeves.

“what are you attempting to execute now, lady archer?” nora asked as you shot her a tiny smile. “just a teensy bit bored from mr. valac’s lessons. m’ gonna entertain myself.”

your seatmate, nora of the martin house, does not bat her eyelash or blink in your direction. this is common for her, just like buying groceries to cook.. or waking up to brush your hair with a wooden hairbrush made out of the best wood in the kingdom. she is used to your shenanigans, even if it meant to be a little bit rebellious during the process, such as dirtying your arm in boredom.

well either way, nobody is going to lift your sleeves to inspect your arm, for it is a crime in the law. at least, to people of nobility.

the ink does not easily dry on the surface of your arm, tainting your skin in a hue of black. the feather quill was quite ticklish too, sometimes it occasionally burns mildly against your skin as the tip of the feather drags along to create a small design with the ink.

once it dried, you showed nora your masterpiece. she actually fancied the result, thus praising how good you actually are at painting. for all that you know, your drawn masterpiece will not come off as easily as staining the tip of the quill in black ink.

it is going to be hard to wash it off. to wash the ink off.

“a spider?” kaldo gehenna asked as he inspected the drawing on the left arm of his subordinate. subordinate because the gehenna and the person he speaks to is of the same ranking in the military.

“how'd that appear?”

“i have no answer for you,” rayne ames, captain level replied as he too, inspected the mark that appeared on his arm. “i believe it appeared during the day.”

“i believe so too. i mean, you didn't have it when you dressed up this morning, did you?” kaldo placed his fingers in his chin, trying to find possible solutions as to where a random marking of a spider and a few strands of web marks came from. the military isn't one to have such markings.

now that it is night and it is time to rest and let loose if the days’ happenings, the ames undressed with his most trusted subordinate and the both of them are greeted with a marking of a spider on rayne’s arms.

the knights are only glad that they wore long sleeves. if it had been exposed, rayne was sure that his arm would be sliced off for having such a marking in his arm.

“i heard there is a legend where whatever your soulmate draws on her skin, it will appear on your skin too. perhaps your soulmate drew a spider on heir skin,” the other captain said as he shrugged.

“why in the world would my soulmate draw on her arm? is she a fool?”

once again, the gehenna shrugged and carefully kept his knightly gears back to where they belong. “perhaps she was feeling bored, just like you at today's assembly. two bored souls. you can try to draw something small on your arm to see if that does anything or not.”

left in a plain white button up t-shirt and his black pants, kaldo took his belongings and waved his subordinate good-bye. “well, i hope you find your soulmate soon. you really need some romance in your life, rayne.”

when the ames went home, all he could do was stare at the spider marking on his arms. the only explanation he could gather was that his soulmate clearly used the black ink for writing to draw the insect on her arm. she didn't even try to erase the parts where it went wrong, she just drew on it to create spider webs.

his stoic golden honey eyes that were locked onto the mere insect. fingers slowly tracing over the outlines of the spider legs and the webs behind it. he admits it, his soulmate is good at drawing. perhaps she is a painter, an artist. someone who comes from a lineage of working for the royal family in the line of art.

but if she is his soulmate, why has she drawn something now? why has she not been leaving any suspicious or interesting marks on his skin in his eighteen years of living? why only now, when he was just assigned to the role of a captain in the royal military?

whatever the case, rayne ames could only keep brushing his fingers against the mark that appeared out of mere thin air. he needed to find the cause of this random marking soon.

the fifteenth birthday of the royal prince, mash burnedead. of course his family of princes would host a royal birthday party for him. and of course, all nobles are to attend the young boy's birthday celebration.

so are you and your family. your parents, who stood among all the other noble adults as you stand beside them, their mouths never ending to boast about how well you do in your academics and how well you are in arts.

as if you were their little doll to ramble on and on, you simply stood there with a tiny smile, your fingers occasionally pulling up the elbow gloves so it wouldn't reveal a single speck of the spider drawing you drew just the day before the party.

you already knew it wasn't going to come off easily, considering the quality of the ink is strong enough to stain your white satin curtains for weeks before fully coming out. your parents had forgotten to inform you about the upcoming party of the prince too, making your arm more difficult to cover up since your silk elbow glove is on the shorter side.

“father, mother, if i may excuse myself to the restroom for a few moments?” you asked in a voice that sounded like it was a beg. you just wanted out from the ordeal of having to stand for hours and listen to your parents indirectly praising you while your mouth is kept shut with no place to allow your tongue to twist and turn.

“of course, dear! be back soon, alright?” your mother replied as you nodded and took your elegant bow at them and also at the other noblemen that were lending an ear to your parents.

it was all a simple lie to get you out of this pathetic situation and to escape to somewhere where you can have your own fun and enjoy your own time, whether it being alone or finding another fellow noble that you know off, preferably someone from your class.

your preferences led you outside the ballroom, where it is far from a huge crowd, but filled with people who prefer to be outside the ballroom.

“lady archer! over here!” the monotonous voice which you recognised called out to you as a hand fan waved in the air, signalling for you to journey your way through the hallways to where nora stood.

you made your way through the velvet carpet and curtsied at your friend, before doing so to the guests around her.

“this is noir martin, my idiotic brother of the military army and his friends of the military, lord kaldo gehenna and lord rayne ames,” nora introduced as you curtsied once again.

“they are looking for women to cheer their champagne to,” a horrified expression formed on your friend's face as she pointed her fan towards her elder brother. “especially this man.”

noir held his hands in the air for defense. “hey hey, little sister. it is normal for men who want to find a beautiful wife, isn't it?”

“not if you're a captain leading an army of hundreds of soldiers! they usually perish in battle like the strong mighty soldier they are, honouring their kingdom.”

the martins conversed in an argumentative conversation, kaldo occasionally joining in. while you stood beside nora, covering your left arm. if not, you'd keep pulling your elbow glove up.

it was no surprise that the attentive ames was silently observing you, a gorgeous noblewoman who will soon benefit to the future of the kingdom. the ames is to, one day, serve you, since you are an honoured ally of the royal family.

“oh uhm, i am quite anxious…” you averted his gaze, hands subconsciously moving to cover your arm as rayne's eyes followed your hands. “is there a problem with your arm? are you hurt?”

“you seem to be anxious,” rayne said.

that voice. the honeyed, yet silky voice almost no one in the military dares to defy. it was an addictively dangerous voice to the hearts and souls of many women.

“no! i’m not!”

there it was. the little sneaky spider legs that peeked out from the edge of your satin piece, though unknown to the people around. there was one person that knew about it though. he just happened to blink before he could see the leg peeking out.

“if you insist…” the knight slowly nodded, his hands travelling to the same arm that the spider appeared.

how odd. he's technically doing the same thing you are doing. it's just a different direction to what other humans in the hallways perceive.

“my name is rayne ames, captain of the royal military army. my brother finn goes to the royal academy too,” he bowed.

you did your part to introduce yourself as a proper lady. like any other proper gentleman, rayne took your hands in his and gave your knuckles a chaste kiss.

something he did to your fingers made you flutter on the inside. it was as if he invited butterflies into your body just by his lips touching the silk of your glove. it was no different for the kiss. he kept it chaste, but there was an unexplainable reason that tells you it wasn't just a gentleman gesture he was showing you.

well, the night went past with your newly made friend from the military who shared a mutual amount of laughs and jokes with you throughout the night. what could possibly go wrong?

“sir! there's a spider on your hand!” the voice of a knight exclaimed as rayne glanced at his hands, his eyes widening a little before he attempted to slap it away.

but it does not go away.

it stays.

just like the spider drawing that randomly appeared out of nowhere, completely fading after a few days. but now, a new mark appears. and a new accusation arises.

“could it be his soulmate!?”

“lord ames, perhaps your soulmate is nearby!”

“you fancy spiders, captain?”

the male slapped his palms against his forehead at the words of his soldiers. surely the mark has to appear at a strategy meeting where he is specifically pointing at other nations. there couldn't be a better timing where his hands weren't in the view of other people.

now his darling soulmate has to draw on her hand, close to her thumb, the same silly spider drawing again that appears as a temporary marking to the ames.

as if one time wasn't enough for the rayne to embarrass him and allow his comrades to lose focus of their goals— the marks appear at many other times in situations where he couldn't control. all over his arm.

one night he sat down at his armchair, surrounded by the crackling sounds of the fire. rayne took kaldo’s idea, dipping his feather into washable ink and wrote a stop drawing on your arm with his quill.

a mere simple no form. in response, rayne rolled his eyes, scoffing at how cocky the person on the other end is. he wanted to get this over with so his teammates would seal their mouth shut in the absence of a spider drawing randomly spawning on his skin.

it was hilarious, since it was only his left arm that received such a vulgar insect drawing. rayne gave up and put away his writing materials and went to slumber. he pray that the spider drawings would soon end and he would finally have peace in the army. and also to meet his soulmate who is so interested in spiders.

noir martin is officially wedded to a woman from the house of irvine, to a beautiful classmate of yours, lemon. and the world is to congratulate and celebrate the happiness of the newlywed.

“when am i be wedded to a handsome and strong man…” you muttered to yourself as you let out a sigh. “i could've sworn my soulmate wrote back to me.”

unfortunately your mutters were heard by rayne who stood beside you, serving as your escort for the day.

“oh? how do you already know your soulmate?”

“well. i draw. then he simply told me to stop drawing.”

rayne raised a brow. “if he's your soulmate, then why did he ask you to stop drawing?” in his mind, this soulmate of yours is an extremely selfish and rude man that doesn't deserve you at all.

“because i’m embarrassing him in front of his friends with my spiders.”

spiders.

“spiders?”

“spiders.”

his jaw slightly let loose. rayne couldn't focus on anything else other than to watch your lips move as you complained about your soulmate and spiders.

“my dearest lady y/n of the archer house,” the ames gently took your hand in his and bowed, remaining in his posture, he says, “may i commit a crime and steal you away for a few moments?”

spiders are your new favourite thing to draw now ever since that boring day in your philosophy lesson.

rayne just happened to the extra canvas.

a field of red roses tinted your cheeks red as you ceased the smile that threatened to surface.

“yes you may, lord ames.”

as you finished uttering your words, rayne took your hand to guide you through the huge and long halls of the martin estate. it was silent all the way and you felt nervous. as if there were thousands of spiders who slowly crawled up your back, giving you the chills yet the nervousness that embraced you.

he led you out the huge garden, never stopping until he reached the point where there were stone benches. being the gentleman he is, rayne told you to take a seat as he took off the white glove he wore on his left arm.

rayne took a seat himself, setting his gloves to the side. all while your eyes followed his actions, including the little mark that was just a bit above his pinky finger. you recognised that mark as you seemingly lit up upon seeing it.

“that's a—”

“spider.”

without hesitation, you took out your left arm’s glove. nobody is going to walk into the garden anyways, so it's safe to take off your glove. golden honey eyes immediately locking its gaze onto the same spider that was in the same exact position as the one on rayne's fingers.

“you’re my soulmate!” you exclaimed, gasping in the process.

the corner of rayne’ lips curved upwards a little as he nodded, his fingers tracing the spider that was imprinted on his fingers.

rayne ames is now tracing the undone spider sketches, smudging the ink all over your right thigh as you could feel his hot, ragged breath on your cheek. you faced the other way, your own breath heavy as you shifted in your position.

“trying to draw a spider on your thigh while i’m away on a mission by the king's orders tells me how much you miss me. how much you need me,” rayne said, his golden eyes staring into yours. “then you tried to sketch another in my presence, my lady. what are you trying to do?”

first of all, how did you get into this situation where both you are under the military captain as he cornered you?

long story short, you were out with your lady friends, and they were all drinking the night away. as your carriages came to pick you up and your lady-in-waiting cleaned you up after the night full of consuming the kingdom's finest alcohols, soberness left your mind.

the worst is the honoured son of the ames family arriving at your family's estate to give them an emergency visit. well you were not in a state to be speaking to guests, so you were kept in your room.

but rayne insisted on a visit to his beloved darling, and he too, ended up being drunk from the alcohol that you shoved into his mouth with the bottle that you sneaked in the house.

“i need you… and you need me too,” you muttered, lazy eyes scanning all over the white button up t-shirt that rayne wears. how it would be so easy to just tear them open right now.

“do i have you to myself?” rayne set his head at the crook of your neck, shifting up so his mouth comes in contact with your shoulders. the man slightly pulled down the lace sleeves, exposing your bare shoulders to him.

with rayne's lips on your shoulders, you hummed under your breath, resulting in a kiss.

“you are my woman. my soulmate, y/n.”

“forever yours,” you whispered into his ears as he continued to press chaste kisses onto your shoulder, his other hand leaving your sketched and messy thigh to snake it around your waist.

“i’m going to kiss you until those spiders all over your body are all messy. and you will do the same to me, darling.”

TAGS ★ @kyoghurts @caelivir @dragonictears @anqelically @hasumiis @raynesbunny @vash-yuu @sakireiz @futuristicxie @redlabelboom @ilovecandys2010

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[stariikis]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐧𝐫𝐤 ˖ ࣪⭑

synopsis ; like the moon needs the stars, riki's whole life would crumble without you. his inspiration, greatest motivation, and his muse.

pairing ; artist!nishimura riki x muse!reader genre ; fluff, established rs, realllly really short drabble of thoughts

this love's possessing me, but i don't mind at all

There are a million ways to say, 'I love you.'

Aren't there?

One chasing after their certain eye-candy may purchase a whole bouquet of that person's favourite flowers. Another would pour their heart and soul onto a piece of paper, a subtle love confession decorated with stickers and fanciful designs. Another might try their hardest to impress them with whatever their forte is.

Riki, however, takes all these and mashes them into one gorgeous painting on an easel.

He emerges from his 'workplace', one of the study rooms in your shared apartment. A blank canvas, about the size of his hand, accompanies him out. Not to mention the various brushes, the bristles sticking out all over the place revealing how loved they are. The paints, watercolour in a small box, acrylic aligned in their designated tubes, and oils of any colour possible.

Lips puckered in a pouting motion, he scans you as if wondering what light he wants to paint you in today. Where he wants to set up his painting station for the next few hours.

The reasons for his choice of background go from the smallest of things to the most obvious. It could simply be the style of your choice of clothes, but once it had been because of the way you reacted when he woke you up in the morning.

He used a fiery red base colour for that artwork. Perfectly encapsulating the constant frown you wore the rest of the day. His words, not yours. They could only ever be his words.

When he finally dismissed you from 'work', he paid you for your efforts with a kiss.

Your sour expression morphed instantly. In the blink of an eye, it was almost as if you had never woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

it's taking over me, don't wanna fight the fall

Today he quietly brings you to the edge of a field, just as sundown occurs. He looks up at the sky, cotton candy clouds bleeding into a warm hue of orange. Nothing leaves his mouth. An absolute silence has overcome him.

And knowing that there's no need for you to break it, there's no need to coax him out of this state for the better, comforts you deep down to the core.

It's like you know exactly how to go about routine, as you settle yourself in the wispy, tall grass and wait for him to set up his materials. However, after propping up his easel, he doesn't unpack his paints and brushes like he usually does. He doesn't unroll his scuffed-with-paint marks apron.

He merely gazes at you, soft and mesmerised.

As an artist, he should have neutral feelings towards his muse. He should be evoking surrounding emotions and feelings. He should be drawing them from deep within himself, and expressing them on the canvas before him.

A muse is only meant to be an inspiration. At times, it's the subject of the art piece. However, it's never the sole purpose.

But the way Riki looks at you proves all that wrong. The way his calloused hands held yours on the way to this destination. The way he scoots closer to you just as you drift off into sleep, and whispers all the newest paintings he's made. He confesses all the sketches he makes are of you. He can't get you out of his mind, he murmurs in a shaky tone, he can't rid himself of your influence on his artistry.

But he's so in love.

Why would he ever want to?

it's like supernatural ₊ ⊹.𖥔 ݁ ˖

thank you for reading! i'm so sorry to anyone expecting me to write any other members. i'm just too addicted to writing for riki... i promise they will have their own fics soon. pls scold me if i don't churn them out... TT

[redheadspark]

may i have Benedict x reader from bridgerton with prompt #25

A/N - So cute for Benedict! Thanks for the request, anon!

Overflowed

Summary - Benedict knows how to make you smile

Warnings - Angst and fluff rolled into one :)

If there was one thing you loved about your life being a Bridgerton, it was how it was never boring or mundane.

It all started when you met your future husband, Benedict.  You both were attending art class at one of the most prestigious schools in the area, sitting side by side during one of the night classes and going through one of the lectures.  Benedict came from a wealthy family, prestigious family, which that had a major reputation for being well-loved and compassionate in charities and amongst other families.  You heard about his family for some time, though your family was not part of that circle since you were not well off.  In fact, you were attending the art school on a full-ride scholarship, not wanting to take it for granted and keeping your nose in your books and canvas.  But that night as Benedict plopped down next to you with his laptop out and ready to try, he looked over at you as you were handwriting your notes instead of typing it out.

He smiled, leaning over and saying in a low tone, “I like your handwriting.  It’s lovely,”

It was safe to say you are smitten with him from then on out.

You both sat together for the rest of the semester, learning about each other and becoming friends.  All of those rumors and stories that you hear about his family both seemed true and untrue.  He was kind, and humble in his upbringing and just wishing to be a better artist but not afraid to talk about his family and all of their endeavors.  He showed interest in you and what you liked about art, which pieces you liked and hated.  Although you were hesitant and wanted to keep your guard up when it came to letting in someone new in your life, Benedict snuck in always. 

Your first date was actually at the local county fair, Benedict asked you out after several months of building a friendship. It was surprising that he took you to a county fair, some of your other friends were already spewing theories about him taking you to a luxury restaurant or even on a yacht since his older brother Anthony did that with his now wife Kate. But not with Benedict, he would prefer to laugh with you and eat fried fair food and look at the street vendors.  

He made you laugh while attempting to win you a stuffed animal at the games, though you tried to warn him that they were rigged.  Benedict threw one baseball a bit too hard and almost broke the tent wall behind the plate that he was attempting to smash.  You laughed, the vendor scowling at him as Benedict took your hand and you both bolted before you were caught.  Benedict loved the sound of your laugh, he mentally would remember that moment for the rest of his life.  Throughout the night, you felt your walls coming down slowly with him and how he made you smile and giggle without you realizing what he was doing. Benedict was more down to earth than anything that night, then taking you to the local art show that was placed in the back of the fair.  

“I thought you would rather see something like this than at a fancy gallery,” He explained, you grinning from ear to ear as you both were gazing at the paintings and sketches from local painters and artist that were selling their art.  To think that he had all the money he would ever need, the reputation to be put in the pockets of people with power, but he simply wanted to be with you.

You shared your first kiss that night, his lips tasting of popcorn and soda pop.

Dating Benedict was both thrilling and intimidating at the same time. You were taken into his world, filled with wealthy relatives and charities that would sell dinner seats for thousands of dollars.  You barely had 1000 dollars to your name, let alone in your savings, but Benedict never minded it.  His own family was insanely sweet and kind to you, seeing how you made the artist in the family so happy and filled with joy.  Of course, they would tease you about his aloofness and his quirky nature, but you saw the same compassion and authenticity that was in Benedict in each of his siblings and his kind mother.  

However, you were a fish out of water with those dinners and events that you attended on Benedict’s arm.  The small talk with the fellow guests seemed forced and almost dry, Most of them were grilling you with questions about your own life, if you came from a rich family, or if you had any investments.  The pressure was a bit much at times, Benedict sensing it when you sat side by side during the dinners.  But the great thing about Benedict was that he would attempt to make you laugh during those tense moments, by any means necessary.  Comments under his breath, jokes that he knew were not great dinner conversation, his sense of humor was once again winning and making you come out of your shell a bit more.

Anthony could have sworn he saw you giggling and hiding your smile behind your napkin as Benedict whispered in your ear.  Anthony knew it then, you two were meant to be together.

Not everything was happy and positive with you two when it came to your love for one another. Because of your more humbled upbringing, your family bought of Benedict as dragging you along to use you.  It was hard to hear that from them, they all thought it was some kind of ruse and not real.  No matter how many times you defended your love for Benedict and told them constantly that you both were insanely happy together.  Even your ex was spewing hate on your relationship, which hurt a bit more since you and your ex were a bit sour together.  

But in the end, Benedict always came through by comforting you and making you feel safe.  He would constantly hug you and remind you that you were strong and adored, that you’d come so far in earning your degree and working at a gallery, fighting tooth and nail with your advantages and no leg up.  He admired you for that, and to see you feel defeated by others and their words broke his heart.  Plenty of nights were shared holding each other and talking through those bitter moments, it felt better to talk to him about it and get it off your chest than to hold it in.

And every time, Benedict would end up making you laugh and bringing you joy.  

“I think I found mummy!”  You looked up from your spot on the loveseat, holding an important letter in your fingers as your husband waltzed into the room with your 3-year-old daughter on his back and squealing in joy.  You beamed, watching your husband act like a horse and neighing as he was galloping around the small living room and your daughter laughing her head off with her ringlets dancing behind her.  

“Look, mummy!  Daddy’s a horsey!” She shrieked as Benedict was going in circles around your loveseat, you placing the letter on the coffee table and standing up with your hands on your hips.

“Quite the handsome horse too!” You teased, Benedict, slowing down and laughing as he stood in front of you.  Your daughter, Emma Violet Bridgerton, poked her head over his shoulder and you saw the same shade of green that her father had in her eyes.  She reached out to you with grabby hands, to which you scooped her in your arms to hug her tight, breathing in her sweet scent and feeling her arms around you.

5 years of marriage was no easy feat, but it was rewarding.  You both got married in the spring, then found a decent apartment in the downtown area that was close to the gallery you were now running and Benedict sold some of his work to get some money in your pockets. He would rather make money not by his name but by his art, using an alias with his art and not giving out his true identity.  It worked in his favor, his work being sold globally and making his alias a household name.  Your net worth grew, though tedious at times, but it grew nonetheless.  

So the news that you were pregnant two years into your marriage was a surprise, but the best kind since Benedict was over the moon at the thought of being a father.  Sure, he never thought about being a father so soon, but he didn't despise the thought of it.   Yet you were the one who was afraid of parenthood, mostly because of your own experience with your parents and how they were with you.  They were harsh, far too realistic, and at times brutal.  Did you want to inflict that on your own child?

“You are not your mum and dad,” Benedict reminded you one night as you two were lying in bed, you telling him what was festering in your mind and what you were fearing.  He had one arm around your shoulders, and his other hand was resting on your lower stomach while he was staring at you lovingly, “We are gonna love this baby and make sure that there is nothing but happiness in this home.  Plus, I bet you we’ll make mistakes here and there.  Especially me, I bet you I’m gonna put the diaper on the wrong way,”

You smiled softly, “More than once?” You asked to ask sheepishly, Benedict’s smile got wide.

“Are you kidding, over a dozen times at least!” He explained, you laughing as he went on, “And I’ll be singing to our baby with my horrible singing voice, you’re gonna hate it!”

As soon as Emma Violet Bridgerton was born, Benedict was over the moon in love with her.

“We were looking for you in hopes you were wanting to come get ice cream with us!” Benedict explained to you as Emma perked up and looked at you with her father’s eyes she inherited.

“Can we, mum?” She asked with hope in her voice, you eyeing her and then her father.

“Before dinner?” You asked in a joking tone, Emma giggling glee as you tickled her sides, “The scandal of it all!  What will the neighbors say!  We must get ice cream then since I have been craving chocolate!”

“Hooray!” Emma said in victory, the there of you walking out of the living room together as a happy family.  You left the letter behind, another disappointing letter from your parents who were reprimanding you for shielding your daughter from her grandparents.  But you were having none of it, you may have before when things were still tender with them. Yet not now, not with this life that was overflowing with happiness.  

The overflowing will never end, not if Benedict had anything to do with it.

The End.

May Prompt Session