#tome with small ponytail

[makeshiftkeytar]

sibling rays them

[killa-cookie]

IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU..

Espresso x Reader angst

“Hey, Espresso—!”

You giggled shyly, your voice light and teasing, as you leaned in slightly toward your friend. The quiet atmosphere of the library wrapped around you both like a warm embrace, the scent of parchment and ink filling the air.

“Yeah?”

Espresso looked up from his thick tome, his sharp eyes meeting yours with a mixture of curiosity and slight annoyance. His dedication to his studies was unwavering, yet he always acknowledged your presence.

“P-promiwse you’ll wait for me, kay?”

Your voice held a trembling eagerness, eyes wide with a silent plea. You weren’t sure if he understood what you truly meant—perhaps he was too absorbed in his books to see it. But to you, it was a vow, a tether between the two of you, fragile yet binding.

Espresso only sighed, shaking his head.

“It’s ‘promise,’ but okay… Whatever you say.”

A small, dismissive wave of his hand brushed aside your words, your hopes. He thought it was just another one of your childish whims. A fleeting, silly moment.

But one day—one day—you would capture his heart.

---

Years Later – The Confession

The memory clung to you like a ghost, whispering promises that never bore fruit.

Now, you stood outside a quaint café, hands trembling as you clutched a bouquet of freshly picked flowers behind your back. Nestled between your fingers was a delicate, heart-shaped box of espresso-flavored chocolates—his favorite. Today was the day.

Your heart pounded like a war drum, anticipation and dread clawing at your ribs. Would he say yes? Would he smile at you the way he did in your dreams?

And then—there he was.

He arrived with a grace so effortless it made your breath hitch. Dressed in pristine white, his usual dark attire replaced by something refined, almost regal. A soft cape billowed at his shoulders, the interior lined with ivory silk. A neat ponytail rested over one side, and atop his head sat the most charming little hat, making your heart flutter.

For a moment, you thought he had dressed up for you.

But then, you saw him.

Another figure walked beside him, tall and broad-shouldered, his golden locks glistening under the afternoon sun. Their hands—locked together.

The world around you seemed to blur, your breath caught between your lungs and your throat.

Espresso’s polite wave was an echo of past gestures, but it was the way he looked at his companion that shattered you completely.

Soft. Adoring. The look you had yearned for your entire life.

"Essie—who is... this...?"

Your voice was nothing more than a weak whisper, your fingers tightening around the bouquet.

Espresso smiled gently, unaware—so unaware—of the storm raging inside you.

“Oh, right! This is my boyfriend, Madeleine Cookie. And Madeleine, this is my comrade.”

Boyfriend.

The word sliced through you like a jagged blade, gutting you from the inside out.

Madeleine grinned, his voice obnoxiously cheerful, ringing with an almost mocking pride.

"Why, hello there, my kind gentleman!"

Your teeth clenched. You hated it. Hated him.

Espresso gazed up at the blonde knight, his expression tender, admiration painted in every stroke of his features. He had never looked at you like that.

Not once.

You… were too late.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes as your throat constricted. The bouquet trembled in your grip, your carefully chosen chocolates suddenly meaningless.

A sharp, bitter click of your tongue.

The flowers slipped from your grasp. The chocolates tumbled to the ground, landing soundlessly at your feet.

And then—you ran.

Ran as fast as your legs could carry you, ran without looking back, ran until the air in your lungs felt like knives.

Espresso instinctively reached out, fingers curling toward the space you once stood. But before he could move, Madeleine’s gentle hand touched his shoulder.

“We should give him space, dear,” Madeleine murmured, his voice steady. “He’ll come back around soon. I know of it.”

Espresso hesitated. Then, nodding slowly, he lowered his arm.

Neither of them noticed the bouquet lying in the dirt, petals wilting under the weight of rejection.

---

Darkness Beckons

The forest swallowed you whole.

You stumbled through the undergrowth, breath ragged, the tremors in your hands no longer from nervous excitement but from pure, undiluted rage.

He was your only light.

The one constant in your life.

A world that had been nothing but cruel, nothing but suffering, had given you one thing—him.

And now, he was taken from you.

But it was a mistake, right? He didn’t really love Madeleine Cookie… right?

You stopped, panting, and wiped at your tear-streaked face. Then, slowly, your lips curled into a grin—twisted, deranged.

No. If you couldn't have him, no one could.

Adrenaline surged through your veins like liquid fire. Your fingers, once trembling with sorrow, now burned with purpose.

You hurried back to your old shack, the one hidden deep in the woods, where memories of childhood tinkering and forgotten dreams still lingered.

And there—you began.

The invention took shape under your hands, the glow of magical runes casting eerie shadows across the walls. Wires twisted, gears clicked into place, and power hummed beneath your fingertips.

A shapeshifting device.

Your heart pounded wildly as the final piece was set. You donned the disguise of a Faerie Knight, your form shifting and warping into something unrecognizable.

And then, you ventured into the depths of the enchanted forest, seeking the fabled Faerie Kingdom.

You walked for what felt like hours, until finally—a pathway revealed itself.

A breathtaking kingdom unfolded before you, its gates opening as if welcoming a lost soul home. And at the heart of it all—a grand, ancient tree.

You stepped closer, fingers tracing the rough bark.

Then, with the magical axe Espresso once gifted you—you began to chop.

A deep, forbidden rift cracked open before you, the very fabric of reality splitting apart.

From the abyss, a figure emerged.

A dark, twisted presence, a jester draped in shadows and deceit. His deep blue eyes glowed with mischief and menace.

You smirked, tilting your head.

“I have a favor to ask.”

The jester’s grin widened, eyes gleaming with intrigue.

"You freed us? Well... Have a go at it—!?

And soon… Espresso would be at peace, like the angel he is.

---

[doumadono]

Congratulations on 3k followers! For the event, could I request please Choso from JJK with "one just casually sitting down on the other's lap and they start internally freaking the hell out" for the sfw prompts? With gn reader if possible. Thank you so much, and I hope you have a lovely day <3

A dark library - Choso x gn!reader

Synopsis: you venture into the dimly lit library, your curiosity piqued by Choso engrossed in a mysterious book A/N: thank you for your congratulations, that's so sweet of you, Nonnie! I hope you'll enjoy this little blurb ♥

MASTERLIST

In a dimly lit, secluded corner of a hidden library, you found Choso engrossed in a weathered tome, his eyes locked on the ancient script. The ambient candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, creating an atmosphere of secrecy and mystique.

His distinctive appearance with long black stringy hair tied into two high ponytails and small dark purple eyes always intrigued you.

As you approached him, curiosity getting the best of you, you couldn't help but be drawn to his presence. With a mix of boldness and nonchalance, you casually sat down on his lap, your heart racing at the audacity of your actions. "Hey, what are you doing?" you asked, trying to sound casual. Internally, you started freaking the hell out, unsure of how he would react to your own impromptu action. His flesh and blood body felt real beneath you, and the closeness intensified your nerves.

Choso, surprisingly, remained calm and composed, as if this was a regular occurrence for him. He peered into your eyes with an enigmatic gaze, and for a moment, it felt as though he could see right through your thoughts. "Reading."

Struggling to find the right words, you managed to stammer, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… I mean, I just…uh… got carried away?" Your voice trailed off as you fumbled to explain yourself.

To your surprise, a faint smile tugged at the corners of Choso's lips. "It's okay," he replied in a soft tone, his voice like a gentle whisper in the darkness. "You're just curious, aren't you?"

You still couldn't shake the feeling of being embarrassed by your own boldness. You carefully shifted, attempting to stand up, but Choso's arms gently encircled you, holding you in place.

"No need to rush," he said reassuringly. "You're safe here with me. Stay."

His touch was unexpectedly warm, and the sensation sent shivers down your spine. Despite the darkness around you, his presence seemed to emit a calming aura that made you feel strangely at ease.

As the moments passed, you found yourself gradually relaxing, getting lost in the mysterious atmosphere of the library and Choso's intriguing company. His eyes locked with yours from time to time, and you felt a strange connection forming, as if he could understand the thoughts swirling inside your head without you saying a word. The initial awkwardness had faded, replaced by an unspoken connection that transcended words.

Finally, you mustered the courage to break the silence, attempting to divert your thoughts from the unusual situation. "So, what's that book about?" you asked, trying to sound genuinely interested, although your heart still fluttered from sitting on his lap.

Choso's eyes softened as he glanced at the ancient tome in his hands, the faint glow of his blood mark intensifying for a moment before fading once more. "This book holds the secrets of a lost clan's cursed technique," he explained, his voice steady and calm. "It's a powerful and ancient form of jujutsu, one that many seek to master."

His explanation fascinated you, and you found yourself leaning in closer, as if the book itself might reveal its mysteries to you. "Is it dangerous?" you inquired, wondering if delving into such knowledge could lead to dire consequences.

Choso nodded, his eyes now reflecting a hint of melancholy. "Yes. The cursed techniques often carry a heavy price, and their power can consume those who wield them."

The conversation flowed naturally from then, and with each passing moment, the anxiety that initially gripped you slowly melted away. The dark, secluded space somehow felt like a cocoon, isolating you both from the outside world and its judgments.

divider by: @cafekitsune

[chic-a-gigot]

L'Art de la mode, tome deuxième, 1881, février. Deuxième planche. Bibliothèque nationale de France

Premier costume.

Au bord de la jupe tombe une dentelle de point de Venise, sur les plissés de satin rose de Chine. Par-dessus, draperies en festons de satin rose, coupées de panneaux crénelés en satin ivoire, brodés de roses du roy. Tunique en pékin rose de Chine, très courte et fendue devant, allongée en traîne derrière. Corselet lacé pareil à la traîne, décolleté en cœur devant et derrière. Une draperie de point de Venise, rattachée par des roses, encadre le corsage et forme manche. Coiffure à la grecque, avec bandelettes de perles, cousues sur du velours rose. Souliers en satin rose avec boucles de perles.

Venetian lace falls at the edge of the skirt, on the pleats of pink China satin. Above, draperies in festoons of pink satin, cut with crenellated panels of ivory satin, embroidered with royal roses. Tunic in pink pekin from China, very short and slit in front, elongated in a train at the back. Laced bodice similar to the train, sweetheart neckline at the front and at the back. A drapery of Venetian lace, attached by roses, frames the bodice and forms a sleeve. Greek hairstyle, with pearl bands, sewn on pink velvet. Shoes in pink satin with pearl buckles.

—

Deuxième costume.

La jupe, entremêlée de volants de point de Bruxelles et de draperies roses. Tout le long, devant, cascade de flots de satin rose. Traîne floconante de point de Bruxelles. Redingote de satin saphir ouverte sur un gilet de satin rose et fermée par des boucles de strass. Dans les dentelles des manches et du corsage, nœuds de rubans roses. Fichu à la religieuse en linon et dentelles.

The skirt, interwoven with flounces of Brussels lace and pink draperies. All along, in front, cascade of pink satin waves. Flocked train of Brussels lace. Sapphire satin frock coat open over a pink satin waistcoat and closed with rhinestone buckles. In the lace of the sleeves and bodice, pink ribbon bows. Fichu à la religieuse in linen and lace.

—

Troisième costume.

Jupe ronde de dentelles superposées en pétales de fleurs. Tunique de satin cramoisi à vertugadins. Corsage à pointes en satin cramoisi, avec retroussés et collerette de point de Bruges. Triple collier et Féronnière de perles. Gants Jeanne d’Albret, sans boutons.

Round skirt of lace superimposed in flower petals. Crimson satin tunic with farthingales. Pointed bodice in crimson satin, with turn-ups and Bruges lace collar. Triple necklace and pearl Féronnière. Jeanne d’Albret gloves, without buttons.

—

Quatrième costume.

Jupon de dentelles noires, très écumeuses. Jupe de satin noire, drapée très court devant et ornée d'une guirlande de roses thé. Traîne à gros plis Médicis, rattachés par des roses thé. Corsage décolleté à postillon, encadré de roses thé. Roses dans les cheveux, noués en catogans.

Black lace petticoat, very frothy. Black satin skirt, draped very short in front and decorated with a garland of tea roses. Train with large Medici pleats, attached by tea roses. Bodice with postilion neckline, framed with tea roses. Roses in the hair, tied in ponytails.

—

Cinquième costume.

En satin Ophélie. Jupe à grand plissé. Polonaise encadrée de point breton, à larges manches pagodes.

In Ophelia satin. Skirt with large pleats. Polonaise framed with Breton lace, with wide pagoda sleeves.

—

Sixième costume.

En bengaline saphir. La jupe, bordée d’un gros ruché douairière, par- devant, à petits plissés derrière, cachés à demi sous une traîne unie. Péplum en bengaline saphir, ourlé d’or, sur lequel tombe comme un deuxième péplum, une draperie de surah laurier-cerise. Fichu et parements laurier-rose ornés d’or. Bandelettes de velours laurier-rose, étoilées d’or.

In sapphire bengaline. The skirt, edged with a large dowager ruffle, in front, with small pleats behind, half hidden under a plain train. Peplum in sapphire bengaline, hemmed with gold, on which falls like a second peplum, a drapery of cherry laurel surah. Oleander fichu and cuffs decorated with gold. Strips of oleander velvet, starred with gold.

[beantothemax]

@meme-boys-blog @snuurge ARE YOU READY?! iTS TIME FOR THE MOMENT YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR!!! Btw uh there's mentions of suicide and some strong language. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He has been looking ever since she vanished. 

Every free moment was spent chasing her. Speaking her Name and following the faint trail it set out. 

It always led to a cluster. Never a specific instance. It took less than a second to check if which one was the one she visited, but those seconds add up. And she moved quickly.

So it was a surprise when he finally caught up to her after all this time.

TOK-DEB-12211401, Instance #112511121519. 

——————

There’s a pair of students walking past a coffee shop. They’re friends, but not by choice. They talk about the project they’re working on, something about the history of Japan. A presentation is brought up, and one one of them offers to take most of the speaking role for it. Judging by the attitudes of one over the other, the presenter will probably forget this interaction moving forward, while the other will remember the kindness they shared.

The white haired woman smiles at this. It’s always the little things. The small tokens of kindness, the compliments on the street, the unusual acquaintance… Just as a butterfly flaps its wings, so too can a few words change the course of a story. It’s why Kuzé takes these nights out. To watch such mundanities; to be a spectator on the stage of life.

There’s a man across the street. He catches her eye from his… eccentric getup. An immaculate white suit, blonde hair in a small ponytail. A few people ask if he’s lost, but they don’t otherwise comment on his outfit. Interesting. If this is an Anomaly at work, she’d love to observe it before Darkwick gets their hands on it. 

Before she can drift to the next person, their eyes meet. Silver meeting abyssal black. His eyes go wide with an unreadable emotion, while she just smiles. It’s not the first time someone’s thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. But knowing Kaito Fuji, he would consider any girl worthy of that title. Kuzé goes back to her coffee.

There’s another passerby that catches her attention. A man in casual wear. He’s talking on the phone in an annoyed tone. At this time of night with that sway to his step, it’s certainly a drunken call about an ex-lover? No, it’s his boss. You wouldn’t complain about low pay to your ex. Or would you? Either way, a call like that is bound to-

“[]?”

It’s barely a whisper. A Name so arcane, so Other, it cannot be properly spelt with human language alone. It’s a collection of sounds and feelings, all for the listener to hear. The Name sounds like the soft chirps of birds on a summer’s day; the slight sting of the sun shining on one’s skin with the smell of fresh cut grass. A Name that paints a picture in mere utterance alone.

It pulls at her heart a little.

Kuzé whips her head around to the speaker- the white-suited man from earlier -and gives him a wide-eyed look before it sours into a scowl. He must have crossed the street a while ago. With his bright suit, it’s a surprise she didn’t notice. He’s standing a few feet away, his body still. 

He looks at her with such fondness; it’s enough to make her sick. A few moments pass before he cautiously closes the distance. A silent invitation accepted when there was none given.

Before he says anything, she interrupts him with a hiss. “Who are you, and where did you hear that Name?”

He stumbles a little when he takes a seat before examining her face with a shaky breath, “You- You don’t remember?”

“Answer the question.” 

A shaky breath, “I’m {}. We used to hang out between assignments?”

His Name matches the other in its otherworldly nature. It reflects the smell and feel of old parchment; ancient tomes of knowledge read next to a warm hearth.

A part of herself perks up in joy. Answering the question with flashes of memory.

His gray eyes light up into a shining silver,  “So you do remember. Where have you been Gabriel? I’ve been looking everywhere-“

“Do not call me that,”

…and dulled back to the shade of stormy skies. He searched her face, desperately trying to find answers to how his old friend could snap at him like a steel vise.

But yet, he persisted.

“…What happened?” 

“She found what She wanted.” She sighed. 

In the silence that followed, Kuzé could see the memories replay in front of him. Aged film reels spinning behind the curtain, trying desperately to find a certain scene. 

And when he found it. Oh, when he found it. The slight widening of eyes, the trembling of lips, that vacant look… He knows. He now knows what he looks at is no longer his old friend, but someone who embraced the Void in all its nothingness and majesty. 

Kuzé goes back to her drink. The conversation is done in her eyes. All he has to do now is leave in defeat.

“…I’m sorry.” He mutters. 

A sudden feeling of vertigo, like the world dropped out from her. Her cup falls to the floor. She meets his eyes with a harsh glare. A face of unparalleled focus. A stare where the contents of the soul is laid bare for the viewer to see. 

She knows, because she’s employed the same technique. Viewing every Name, no matter how small. Peeling back the layers and worming his way in like a parasite. Who does he think he is?

She ought to scar him, kill him, hurt him. The bridges were burnt. It’s only right.

But yet, she can’t bring herself to move. Why? Is it for her affection for the Ghouls? Possible detection? Condemning an entire instance and its people The Void just to kill {Rustling Pages and Hearthfire Warmth}… 

Finally, he withdraws, tears in his eyes and white as a sheet.

“You’re lucky we’re in public, {Rustling Pages and Hearthfire Warmth}.” And in this specific cluster. Though they wouldn’t mobilize immediately, Darkwick has eyes everywhere. She wouldn’t be surprised if a small force were to arrive in a few minutes if anything unusual happened.

Despite her bitter remark, he holds fast.

“Did you enjoy rifling through me? Did you have any fun?”

A breath in, then out.

“Find any fragments of her to cling to?”

 He wipes his face and composes himself.

“Oh come on, Uri. Was the truth too much to handle? Did you finally realize  your endless search was fruitles-“

“…Why did you try to kill yourself, [Birdsong And Sunlight]?” 

Power flows alongside the words. The force ushers commands to a person that doesn’t exist. It should have blown away, like ash in the wind.

But yet, it finds its mark. 

It digs into the deepest reaches of her and forces her to respond in a voice seldom used. It's soft and mature, but quiet. So unlike all the other women she prefers to imitate.

“Because there was no other way.”

{Rustling Pages and Hearthfire Warmth} leans down, meeting her eyes and speaking in hushed tones.

“...We need to go.” He urges.

She looks up. People stare at them. Her fit was enough to attract attention.

The wrong kind of attention.

—————

Leo Kurosagi was trying to crack the stupid passcode on this stupid program. It’d updated last night, and he’d been trying to figure out what changed besides the password fail message removing all mentions of that “High King.” 

Honestly, he could try brute forcing it, but the lack of a character limit would make it take forever. He’d rather not have his computer become a decorative fan for the next hundred years, thank you. The shadow wins yet another round. Ugh.

He opens a new tab and checks his inbox. His favorite illegal forum has been a bit quiet lately, but he’s sure he can find some “Anomaly” sightings to laugh at.

Cheap suit, bad editing, doctored recording, some actually good editing, AI generated image (ew), familiar glitches, bad audio, wait a second.

Looks like the video skipped the beginning part, cause the focus was covered in the visual bugs. He assumed the glitches were caused by emotions or some kinda aura bullshit, and whoever was there was having a moment. Audio was creepy to say the least. Loud and clear despite all the visuals. He watched it while pulling up another tab. 

…Huh. 

Should he tell Fuji that she’s cheating on him?

—————

“I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have done that. I just…”

“…wanted to know she was still there, yeah?”

“Look, I didn’t think she was there either.”

“I know.”

“Hm?”

“You should have seen it. [Birdsong And Sunlight] was… shattered, and you were eating at the fragments.”

“Sounds appropriate. I’ve hated her for centuries.”

“Hated? Why?”

“Dunno. ‘Was a part of that false narrative I had.”

“For the longest time, I was convinced that she wanted to leave. I was convinced that no part of her remained. But when you said her Name…”

“I see. I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I know how much you- I mean, she- didn’t like looking at souls like that. I just needed to know for sure.”

“I forgive you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I think she would too.” “..Let’s start over, yeah?”

“Sure.”

“I’m {Rustling Pages and Hearthfire Warmth}, but you can call me Uriel.”

“Kuzé. Charmed.”

[They both laugh]

“Say, Uriel, have you ever learned to dance?”

“Haha… you know I never did.”

“How about singing?”

“I can do that.”

“Follow my lead.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ GOD this was such a fun fic to write. I ended up recycling an old oc for this, and im so glad i recontextualized him. If you want some reference photos for him, i put together a couple picrews a while back: Picrew 1 Picrew 2 Picrew 3

Yes, his voiceclaim is KAITO the vocaloid, and yes, [Birdsong And Sunlight] is MEIKO. ^.^

:0!! vinegar fic!!! huzzah!!!

gonna be completely straight I am . not entirely sure what is happening here BUT your writing is crunchy as always. doing this to it

music too! yay! and picrews! double yay!

[daebae-xiv]

Younger Daes

“Please, Saeis. It’s too soon!”

His mothers pleading and the sound of clinking cutlery coming from the hallway had Dae struggling with wavering strength to sit himself up. Barely a teenager, ashen hair sat just above elven ears; his flesh lacking so much as a drop of ink, features gaunt and sickly.

“You coddle him too much, Dedrin. Jaela has managed just fine.”

“He’s not like her!”

Jagged nails curled into the sheets beneath him as he looked out the window, bitterly staring into the treetops he always desperately wanted to explore. He had it better than most. He knew this. Fresh meals everyday. A warm bed. Four walls to shelter him. A doting mother. Staff to bring him anything he desired. But he spent most of his days longing to feel the warmth of the sun on his face, a coastal Thalassian breeze through his hair. The simple, pure scent of ozone. He was trapped in a prison made out of marble floors and alabaster pillars, constantly reminded of inadequacies that were simply out of his hands.

“We begin tonight.”

His head turned back as he heard his door latch release and he watched his mother enter, toting with her a small breakfast tray. The Sombersong matriarch was dressed in fine, earthy colored silks that contrasted against a fair complexion. A soft countenance framed by auburn waves and two of the purest blue eyes Dae had ever seen. Today, however, those eyes seemed to lack the happiness that usually shone within them and blushed lips were pulled into a taut line.

Dedrin sat the tray in front of him and reached forward, gently combing her fingers through short strands to work out any snags he may have gotten during his sleep while Dae set about quietly eating the teddy bear pancakes she had made for him. It was all routine but today rather than spending the morning laughing and speaking, they both sat in defeated silence.

As the sun began to set on the estate, a member of the staff came to escort him through the winding passages of the manor until they ended up outside a door Dae couldn’t ever recall crossing the threshold of. The woman opened the door and gently ushered him inside before shutting it behind him with a subtle click.

It was darker than most of the rooms he had been in. Sleek marble replaced by rough stone beneath his feet, the walls much the same. A cellar, perhaps? It was certainly musty enough but the smell. Acrid. Bitter. Almost sulphiric and it caused him to choke as a hand lifted to cover his mouth and nose. Eyes watering, he could barely make out the form of his father. Saeis stood tall and proud behind his desk, sharp features accompanied by thick, inky strands that were pulled into a low, tiered ponytail, clasped together by golden accents. 

His eyes were what had caught Dae’s attention. Normally blue, not quite as captivating as his mothers, now tainted with an eerie green glow. At the time, he had been entirely too sheltered to understand what it had meant, but he’d soon find out as his father pulled out a tome and wet a finger, flipping through a few pages. He hadn’t even spared his son a glance, far too enraptured in whatever he was reading. “As my heir,” he began speaking, his voice nearly thundering along the compacted walls and it caused Dae to recoil, still trying to soothe the burning in his lungs, “you will not disappoint me tonight. We will start with spellwork a babbling child could perform and go from there.”

And so they began.

Each incantation was met with nothing but silence and a growing darkness. Each word spoken exactly as his father had instructed and yet he couldn’t produce a single flame. What had come so naturally for his sister evaded him until eventually his father was slamming his hands on his desk. He reached for something before moving behind Dae and out of view. “Again,” he snapped the order.

Again, Dae tried to channel what he could though his hands remained filled with nothing but air and he shook them out, desperately trying to get anything to work.

He heard the crack before he felt it. The sound brought him to his knees before an electric pain shot through his body and crawled up his spine. A breathless, soundless sob escaped from him as he turned back to stare at his father… and then the belt in his hand. He had never been struck before. He didn’t even know his father could do that but it was the revulsion on the mans face that left his stomach twisting. “On your feet. Try. Again.” 

Dae scrambled to get back on his feet, struggling for a few moments with his frailty. Yet, he tried again… and failed. Another crack of the belt came near instantly, causing him to cry out and drop to a knee.

Moons of much the same had passed, leaving Dae’s back a marred landscape as a testament to his incompetence until one night, something changed.

“DAELLARYN!”

Dae shot up out of bed as his father’s voice rang through his ears. The sudden movement sent his head spinning, battling through the dizziness as he rushed to open his door. Down the hallway, Saeis was dragging his mother behind him by the throat while she pleaded with him through gasped breaths. “Please, I only wanted to protect him!”

“Protect him?!” he roared, turning a bitter eye upon Dae. “Follow,” came the rumbled order while Dae could only watch helplessly as his mother struggled in his grip. Ever starved for his father’s approval,  he did as he was told, following him back down to the hellscape of a room he had spent far too much time in.

Once all three were inside, Saeis slammed the door with a flick of his unoccupied hand and turned to look at Dae, his face twisted and ugly with a rage his son had never seen. “She has been poisoning you,” he hissed. “Keeping you weak. Keeping you from your true potential. Dear Dedrin here believes you’re too pure for my teachings.” Saeis spoke with pure disgust, upper lip curling back as he looked down at his wheezing wife, tightening the grip he had on her throat.

Suddenly, his mothers insistence on making him pancakes every morning just… clicked. They had staff, a dedicated chef even. It was something that had always sparked jealousy from his sister, Jaela. She never got teddy bear pancakes. Not made specially by their mother at least and it had always been the best part of his day, sharing those moments with her. “...What?” Dae asked quietly upon exhale, staring wide-eyed in disbelief at his mother though Saeis didn’t give her an opportunity to address her son as his fingers curled even tighter, now restricting air and blood supply. 

“So let’s try it her way, shall we? We just hadn’t discovered the right motivating factor!” Saeis’ tone had grown to mockery as the patriarch fell into utter madness, that green glow of his gaze burning brighter as he began to channel through the hand which gripped Dedrin. “Surely a boy, pure of heart, would be moved to action by his loving mothers peril!” 

“I don’t-... I don’t understand?” Dae rasped, finding it difficult to keep himself on his own two feet. What little strength he had was quickly draining under stress and uncertainty.

A sick, gnarled cackle left Saeis as he stalked closer towards Dae, bringing Dedrin with him as he bent down, coming face level with his son. “Invoke something. Anything at all, my boy! Let your dreams run wild! Otherwise...” he trailed off, letting the implications of his grip speak for itself and with a low growl, he gave warning. “You have ten seconds.”

Fel energies were already being fed into Dedrin’s neck, causing her to writhe and contort, breathless in Saeis’ grip, hands clawing in futility at that which held her.

Panic and adrenaline flooded through Dae’s system, limbs going numb on the spot and he very nearly collapsed right there in exhaustion. Despite this, he tried. Hand stretched out, he recited his fathers teachings, exactly as instructed and yet… nothing happened. Again, he tried. And again. Nothing. Wailing in frustration, his legs finally buckled and took him to the floor, staring at his hands with a bleary gaze. “Give me more time, please. I can do this, I know I can,” he begged through sobs, looking up towards Dedrin. That perfect complexion of hers was already cracking and peeling, rivers of green running along the capillaries of her face as Dae watched, helpless and horrified. 

Disappointed, Saeis looked back at Dedrin. “A shame,” he mused before speaking more softly, “Endala finel endal, dalah’surfal.” Dae slumped forward, unable to watch as the tainted energies ripped her apart from the inside out, the smell of sulfur and brimstone overwhelming and luring him unconscious. 

“Dae?”

Blinking awake, Dae struggled to get his eyes to focus on the ceiling of his room at Shady’s and with a frown, he lifted a hand, pinching and rubbing a fur-lined ear between his finger tips. 

“Mornin’ sleepy head!”

Glancing to his left, he spotted Zalaena and offered her a half-hearted smile before sitting himself up. The blonde had a tray of fresh teddy bear shaped pancakes and bacon at the ready for him, eagerly sliding it over his lap. “...Thanks, Jae,” he whispered.

[hemlock-ia]

“hmm, I would love to touch your skin and be burned. However your conquests might feel differently about that.” their thoughts shot to a certain fresh-faced creature and a small smirk lined his lips at the idea of him being burned when they touched Amos.

What a treat to be complimented by the other and the flowers and mushrooms under hit hat trembled with excitement as he accepted the positive words and knew that Amos was not one for kindness- No, when the other demon gave you a compliment he meant it which was good. Hemlock did not need the compliment for their own self worth- knowing he was a skilled artist and the best at what they did but it still was nice especially coming from Amos.

“A gift!” Hemlock exclaimed in delight and nodded as they twirled in their place and then promised to come by soon- picking up the inks one last time to check before taking off their hat and putting the long blonde locks up in a messy ponytail. The plants seemed to like to be ‘free’ as they swayed in the air, they were part of the demon and yet they were also their own entities. A symbiotic relationship of sorts- Hemlock did not think of them as children or alike but like parts of hair. Things to be used and admired aesthetically but nothing more.

Placing the stencil he nodded at the placement and checked one more time with Amos before sitting down behind the other on a small chair as he put on his black gloves and turned on the magical machine. It was much like a human tattoo gun but powered by magic and he made sure that it was up to the other demon’s standards. Knowing better than to have mentioned numbing cream or a spell to ease the pain. “Boredom is death.” he said as he was working on the first part of the tattoo. “I could use a tome, to write all me secrets in. But I bet you put in a spell to see all the secrets people write, or not?” they asked. Teasing but also serious. He wouldn’t put it past Amos.

“We should go on a vacation together soon, you and I, to some demon world. Maybe just the Down- the Hellscape the academy has a link to. Don’t you miss eating human ribs and watching fairies dance?” they asked with a small smirk- the other would be able to hear it in his voice.

Ink for Valentine's ~ Amock

[virtual-luvr]

Read Dead of Night

Pairing: Diluc x Reader

Pronouns: none, but mentions of the word husband

Content: overworked diluc, mentions of stress and implied trauma.

Description: It was only fair that you treat Diluc just as well as he treated you.

Notes: PLS TAKE THIS AS AN APOLOGY FOR THE AMOUNT OF TOME IVE HAD TO TAKE AS BREAK AND ALSO MOT HAVJNG THE TIME TO WRITE. I can’t promise I’ll be able to write all the time especially BCS I’m graduating soon but I’ll do what I can <3

In honor of a request I got and also me getting his new skin!! Other requests will be worked on as soon as possible.

———————————

Rays of sunshine hit just right through the window as you sit next to the fireplace at the Dawn Winery. Soft humming sounds from behind you as the maids do their work and move around the Winery.

The book in your hand is placed to the side as you hear the door creak open. Dilucs heavy shoes thud on the floor as he enters and he makes his presence known through the heavy sigh he blows out.

He’s wearing his new outfit, but by the looks of it, he had a rough day. The extra cloth on him was torn to the side and his boots were heavy with mud. Nothing unfixable, but it seemed to take a toll on him.

His face was scrunched up as he tightened his high ponytail and took off his boots, making sure to find a place that wouldn’t get so dirtied with mud.

“Diluc, honey, are you okay?” You ask, reaching a hand to his shoulder.

He tenses before placing a hand over yours and smiles at you.

“Im okay, but I’m due a break now. Today was… not the best.”

The maids shuffle out as they see the heavy drowsiness laced in his voice, knowing it was time for their shift to end and go along to do something else.

You help him out of his heavy attire and claymore before looking for a fresh set of clothes and placing it in his hands.

“You don’t have to care for me like this, I’ll be fine my dear.”

“I am your husband, it is only normal that I take care of you just as you take care of me.”

You place a hand on his cheek and he leans into your touch, “what did I do to deserve you?”

He breathes out a heavy sigh as he looks at you with the most adoration possible.

“It’s not what you did, but who you are, Diluc.”

He holds onto you tightly, afraid that if he let go something would happen.

He looks at you for a second before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss to your lips. He always did his best to take care of you with the upmost sweetness. It meant the world to him that you would do it back.

He felt undeserving of it, but you showed him that he was worth of love and care.

You let out a hum as he deepened the kiss, “nah uh, you need to take a shower, you’re all sweaty!”

Diluc chuckles at the face you make as you swat him away, ushering him into the bathroom. You swiftly close the door and he goes in to take a quick shower. Making sure not to spend too much time in there, even though the water was as just the right temperature. He felt like he could stay in there forever.

This was the time of day where he felt most comfortable, to be able to be himself. Without having to think of his duties as anything but a husband. No work, no monsters, no conflict.

Soon enough his shower was down and he dries off his hair, putting on comfortable wear and making sure to fold his other outfit snug. He makes a mental note to check what needs to be sewed back up or tailored as he folds it.

“How are you feeling now?”

The question caught him off guard as it cuts him off of his thoughts, “a lot better, thank you, my love.”

You grab his hand as you escort him towards the fire place, placing a ready meal and a drink right beside him. He immediately starts digging in, seems as if he hadn’t eaten too much today.

“Did you eat today?”

“Only a bit, I had a lot to do around the tavern and customers were coming in and ou-“

You grab another small portion from your plate and place it on his, he looks down and then back up at you.

“There’s no need to do that, you should eat well too-“

You grab your book and place it on your lap, “I’ve already eaten enough today. If you haven’t, then it’s my duty to prevent that from happening, especially if you’re right in front of me. Dig in, I can read to you while you eat?”

You offer the idea to him and he nods hesitantly, he’s always loved hearing your voice, especially on days like these where he can’t seem to catch a break.

He smiles and continues to eat as he watches you drink from your cup and continue on the spot you had previously bookmarked.

Soon enough he was done with his food and drink, eventually he just anchored his head on his hand and watched you as you read. A small smile was set on his face, a rare sight that only a few could afford to see.

His eyes opened and closed as he tried his best to stay awake, but it looks as if it wasn’t working.

Once the chapter was done you took your time and set the dishes elsewhere, grabbing his hand and bringing him back to your guy’s bedroom.

You drag him towards the bed and he immediately lays down, letting out a sigh at the heavenly feel of the pillows and sheets on his skin.

He gets comfortable easy but is almost fully awake as soon as he notices that you aren’t in bed with him, “where are you going?”

He asks and you can almost hear the desperation in his voice, it looks like it really was an incredibly heavy day for him. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes he can’t stand to be alone with his own thoughts.

“I was planning on going back to reading my book” you answer truthfully.

“Could you, uh— could you stay with me.”

His arms open as he sees you near towards him. His warmth engulfs you as he hugs you. His hair, no longer in a ponytail, tickles your face and it makes you let out an airy laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your hair… is in my face” you try to say as you stay tightened up to his chest.

You can hear and feel as he rumbles out a laugh, he doesn’t respond, but instead snuggles up to you even more. Essentially making his hair tickle you even more and all you can do is just whine and hug him back. Making sure to let him know that it wasn’t actually annoying you or anything”

“I love you.” You mumble out

“I love you… too.” You hear him say as you both drift off into sleep.

[Aug/5/22; 1231 words]

[twistyprefect]

Magical Mishaps, Morals, and Mishaps: Viper's Pit

"...SLYTHERIN!" The hat called, eliciting a cheer from the green-clad table. The new Slytherin grinned and rushed to the table, their robes now lined in green and their uniform changed to green and silver. They found a cleared space, sitting down between two students who looked about their age. Eventually the cheers died down and the first years entered, the sorting ceremony commencing for real.

After a brief speech from the headmaster, students were allowed to eat. The student glanced around nervously at their housemates; they hadn't met any Slytherins on the train, and their Gryffindor friends seemed to dislike the house entirely.

"You're friends with Ace and Deuce, right? Don't worry, they won't hate you for being a snake." One of the students across from them piped up. The student looked to also be a fifth year, their brown-to-blonde hair tied back in a high ponytail, their fluffy bangs hiding the sides of their face and covering the edges of their round glasses.

"I'm December!" They introduced. The new Slytherin smiled and answered with their own name. When no one else seemed to say anything, December rolled their eyes and elbowed the black-haired boy next to them, who huffed in annoyance.

"Jamil Viper." He introduced, seeming a bit more relaxed than he had started. He glanced meaningfully to the silver-haired student next to the new student, who hummed in acknowledgement.

"Azul Ashengrotto, pleasure to meet you. Sorry, I was a bit absorbed in something." He explained, gesturing to the notebook in front of him. "My name is Jade Leech. If you see someone like me wearing red and gold, that would be my twin brother Floyd." He said, gesturing to the Gryffindor table where said twin seemed to be tormenting Ace and Deuce. The student chuckled slightly and turned back to reply, but was interrupted by a yelp from across the table.

"CATER get away from me-" "No way, it's been an entire summer!"

The new Slytherin glanced across the table to see an older student trying to force his way onto the bench next to December. A different student had already walked over to try and drag him away, apologizing to everyone and patting December on the shoulder.

"That was Cater Diamond. The guy who dragged him off is Vil Schoienheit. Both of them are upper classmen." Jamil supplied as the student watched the two of them retreat to the other end of the table.

The new student gulped and nodded, finally turning back to their meal. At the end of the feast, the Slytherins all followed their prefects down into the earie green dungeons, and settled into their dorm rooms. The new student glanced around at their dorm mates, greeting anyone they hadn't met yet before shuffling off to bed.

In the morning, they rose early in order to meet with Headmaster Crowley. They tugged on their green and silver uniform and headed to the Headmaster's office. Approaching the gargoyle guarding the office, they quietly repeated the password they'd been told.

"Caldron Cakes."

The gargoyle moved out of the way, revealing a small set of stairs up to the office. They knocked on the door quietly before entering, glancing around in amazement. The walls were lined with portraits of former headmasters, shelves stuffed to the brim with books and tomes. A large desk was positioned in front of a large window overlooking the courtyard, Headmaster Crowley sitting behind the desk.

"Welcome! I hope your housemates have been treating you well. Has Professor Sam made you feel welcome? Good good. Now I bet you're wondering why you're here!" He said, ignoring any of their potential inputs. The student stared at him before nodding.

"Excellent! Well you see, due to some uh...unforeseen circumstances, your house is down a prefect. Now I know you may not feel ready for the responsibilities, but I believe you would make a fantastic prefect, given your...history and such!" He said, holding a hand out to them. In his palm was a green badge, the word 'prefect' embedded in silver. The student nervously reached out to take the badge, feeling its weight in their hand.

"Alright-"

"Excellent! Well, here is your timetable, make sure you get to tall your lessons on time! Oh, and do be sure to eat! Your fellow Slytherin prefects should help you out if you ask." Crowley said, waving them off and immediately returning to her work. The new-student-turned-prefect sighed and exited the office, looking over their timetable. They slowly made their way to the Great Hall, sitting at the Slytherin table near the end by themself. They went over their classes again and pinned the badge on their uniform.

"Well! If it isn't the talk of the school. Whatcha got there?"

Looking up, the student came face-to-face with another Slytherin student. The student was short, with black and purple hair and a slightly too-big uniform. He looked like he was a third year maybe, but his face seemed a bit too mature to be younger than at least fifteen.

"Prefect's badge..." They said nervously before introducing themself.

"Cool! Hey, I'm a prefect too! My name's Lilia Vanrouge but just Lilia is fine." He explained, grinning down at them.

"There's a prefects' meeting tonight in the common room, right after dinner." He said before sitting across from them. They smiled in thanks and looked over their schedule, the other prefect asking about their schedule and providing insight on some of the classes. Soon, their housemates joined them, filling out the table.

"You're a fifth year too, right? Whatcha got first?" December asked, plopping down next to them and peering at their timetable.

[What is your first class?]

Ancient Runes

Divination

Arithmancy

Care of Magical Creatures, with Ravenclaw

Muggle Studies, with Hufflepuff

Herbology, with Gryffindor

[jemmahazelnut]

Better than a starry sky

Summary: Library work is boring and repetitive. If Laxus could, he would get out of there. [Modern AU]

Link: AO3

Notes: This is my third contribution to Fraxus Week. Prompt: Library.

Better than a starry sky

Laxus watched in boredom as the boys sat at the tables studying. Or rather, pretending to study, since the girl sitting a few meters from him was watching a movie on Netflix with headphones. Laxus snorted, he would have done it too if only he could, instead he had to sit there doing nothing waiting for someone to make his afternoon less monotonous to pass the book on the scanner and lend it to the student on duty.

Laxus could have studied, that way the afternoon would have been more fruitful and would have passed even faster, but he couldn’t do it in the library. Even though it was a quiet place, having people around distracted him. He snorted and just played Solitaire on the computer until he heard the door open and footsteps approaching.

He looked up and as soon as he did the pen that was turning in his fingers fell from his hands. The boy was handsome. Like, really handsome. He was wearing a light blue shirt and light jeans, his long green hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and he wore glasses that highlighted his features.

“Hi, I’m looking for some books,” the boy said, handing him a sheet.

“Hi,” Laxus managed to grunt in greeting as he picked up the paper with book titles written on it. He closed the game screen and began searching, while he occasionally glanced at the boy, who was texting someone.

Laxus couldn’t help but wonder if he studied at that university, he had never seen him around. Starting a conversation wasn’t his strong point though, especially he wasn’t good at flirting with strangers. Not that Laxus wanted to flirt with him. But nothing prevented him from talking a little.

“Do you study astrophysics?” Laxus said as he marked the positions of the books on the sheet, noting that they all concerned the universe or the physics of celestial bodies.

“Jurisprudence,” the boy said. Laxus frowned slightly and looked up. “Astrophysics is just my passion,” he explained.

“Oh” Laxus didn’t know what to say, mostly because it was a… strange passion? Or anyway, who started studying astrophysics books for passion? It was a complicated subject, Laxus knew what it meant to take exams in mathematics and physics, he didn’t even dare to imagine how difficult astrophysics was. Especially for a boy who was studying jurisprudence.

“Well, I’m surprised that from the bricks of law you go to reading tomes of astrophysics for passion,” he said, and the small smile that the boy gave waved Laxus. Damn he was cute.

“I guess it’s weird to hear that, but that’s it,” he shrugged. “By the way, could you also tell me if I have any out-of-date books that I need to return?”

Laxus nodded, and passed the boy’s card. Freed Justine. Good to know, he could have looked for him on Instagram. Laxus searched for his user and raised an eyebrow.

“You have twenty out of date books,” he said and the boy widened his eyes slightly, causing Laxus to almost laugh. Really damn cute. “You will probably get a fine in a few days.”

The boy looked at him white in the face.

“And how much is the fine?” he asked slowly.

Laxus bit his cheek to keep from laughing, almost feeling guilty about how he was making fun of Freed. But he had some fun doing it.

“If I remember correctly 50 euros” he said glancing at him, and Freed pursed his lips. He also had nice lips, it was unfair.

“50 euros? Isn’t that a bit exaggerated?”

“I’m not the one who makes the rules” Laxus shrugged, and then seeing Freed’s dejected expression, he decided that he could also tell him the truth. “I’m kidding, you won’t get a fine. The books have only been expired for two days, you still have time to return them. But until you do that, I can’t lend you any more books,” he explained, returning the sheet with the titles Freed had marked and their position in the library.

Freed looked at him for a moment bewildered, then blushed slightly and heck, Laxus was falling in love. He didn’t even know that guy, but that was happening.

“You fooled me?” he asked frowning. “Do you do it with everyone or am I just out of luck?”

“I assume you’re just out of luck,” Laxus shrugged.

Freed narrowed his gaze. “Well, it wasn’t funny at all,” he said. “And I could complain to your manager about your job performance. In fact, I really think I will.”

Laxus frowned, convinced the boy couldn’t really be that touchy.

“You will not.”

Freed raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t be so sure, you don’t know me, and you don’t know how vindictive I can be, Laxus.” A smirk at the same time amused and sexy graced his face and then the boy turned, waving his hand. “See you, if you’ll be here again next time” he greeted him, before exiting the library.

And with that smile in mind, Laxus knew he was completely in love.

***

It had been a week since Laxus had seen Freed, and he had done nothing but think about him. Laxus had observed a bit of his social media about Freed, but hadn’t had the courage to follow him, or maybe he was too proud to do so, after all, the chances that Freed would be interested in him were really low. At least from the photos he didn’t seem to have a partner.

Laxus was lending books to a girl that day, which was why he didn’t notice Freed until he was standing in front of him, with a pile of books in his hand which he placed on the table. The twenty books Freed had to return.

“Surprised to see you here again,” Freed joked and Laxus smiled.

“I knew you weren’t going to take revenge,” he said as he began scanning the books.

Freed gave a small smile. “That doesn’t mean I won’t,” and Laxus couldn’t help but feel amused.

“Do you need help finding the books you need?” Laxus asked, hoping that the boy didn’t understand that this was just a way to be still close to him. Freed was about to answer, then seemed to change his mind, closed his mouth and a slight blush covered his cheeks. Finally, he nodded.

“Yes, thank you,” he said, and Laxus had to fight the widening smile. He told Levy that he was going to help Freed find the books, and then he went up the stairs, reaching the room where all the books were.

“What are you studying?” Freed asked as they moved between the shelves.

“Electronic engineering,” Laxus replied as he reached over to grab a book from the top shelf, and Freed nodded.

“It looks difficult.”

“Once you pass analytical exams, not too much. Well, that’s not quite true, signal theory is driving me crazy,” Laxus thought aloud, and turned to Freed who was looking at him curiously. Laxus hoped he hadn’t imagined Freed’s eyes resting on his arms. He handed the book to Freed who took it, and moved on to the next shelf.

Freed asked him if he knew Bickslow, who was his friend, and Laxus nodded remembering the weird guy who has suggested to him on the chem test. Laxus had never spoken to him again, but he would always be grateful for that exam. Freed smiled a little when he told it, and Laxus forced himself to talk about something else. Unfortunately, he didn’t know anyone who studied law, so the conversation was mostly focused on him, but it wasn’t bad. Even though Laxus didn’t like talking about himself, he found that he liked talking to Freed, so he was fine.

Time passed too quickly and soon they were coming down the stairs again, Freed with a pile of books in hand, Laxus following him right behind. Once Laxus loaned the books to Freed, he greeted him, and only hoped that Freed would read those texts very quickly.

***

Freed didn’t read all those books quickly, but Laxus saw him return to the library several times. He usually stopped to study there, taking one of the tables near the library door, and Laxus hoped he would do it to get his attention. If that was the goal, it was working, because Laxus’s afternoons weren’t boring anymore since he could see the handsome boy’s long green hair.

They also talked quite often, and when Laxus took a break, Freed seemed to do the same - Laxus struggled not to delude himself that he was doing it for him - whereas when Freed was taking a break, it was Laxus who came up with an excuse to go out. Whether it was for a coffee at the machines or to smoke a cigarette.

They chatted often that way, and Laxus found out more about Freed. He discovered that he was a kind of genius, since he seemed to memorize things at an astonishing speed, and that in the evenings he worked as a hobby at a small astronomical observatory, explaining the planets, stars and the universe to families and children. Freed showed him his blog where he posted the photos he took of the sky, and Laxus was impressed by the professionalism he had. Freed literally climbed mountains to reach the most beautiful spots and capture the starry sky without light pollution.

Laxus was always fascinated when Freed started talking, and more than once he had been tempted to visit the astronomical observatory. He hadn’t done it just because he didn’t want his interest in him to be obvious.

That afternoon, however, Freed didn’t join him when Laxus went out for a coffee, and the blond waited a bit disappointed for his arrival in vain. When he realized that Freed wasn’t going to join, he threw the glass in the basket and went back to the library, glancing at Freed and being stunned.

Freed was sleeping.

Laxus chuckled slightly and was tempted to take a photo. He probably didn’t have the intimacy to do it but he decided not to give a damn and did it anyway, capturing Freed’s face leaning on his arms, glasses twisted and an open book on the table.

Laxus then returned to his sear, resuming his work and continuing to look at the photo, giggling from time to time. When it was evening and closing time, Laxus decided to go and wake him. He came over and shook him lightly.

“Hey,” he called, loud enough because the library was empty now, and Freed rubbed his eyes in moaning. Incredibly cute. Heck, Laxus wanted to kiss him. Freed didn’t seem to have woken up, instead he snored a bit. “Hey,” Laxus repeated in a higher tone, shaking him again, and at that point Freed seemed to wake up, blinking confused for a few moments.

When he realized where he was, he sat up composed, and his cheeks turned red.

“Fuck, was I sleeping?” he moaned and Laxus smiled in amusement.

“Yes, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased, and Freed ran an embarrassed hand over his face, perhaps afraid of having drooled. Laxus chuckled as he watched the boy try to compose himself.

“Shit, I didn’t sleep at all last night. I knew I had to stay home,” Freed complained.

“Luckily you didn’t, now I have a photo to blackmail you with if you decide to speak ill of me with my manager,” Laxus smiled, and enjoyed Freed’s shocked expression.

“You’re kidding,” he said.

“You’ll never know,” Laxus smiled, only to get serious again. “I’d let you sleep, but the library alarm will go off in three minutes so you’d better get moving. I don’t want my shift to get longer.”

At those words Freed seemed to realize the time it was and got up, put the books in his backpack and left the library. Laxus closed the door behind them and then checked that the alarm was on. When he was sure of it, he started walking next to Freed towards the college exit.

“So why are you so tired? Did you have a long night?” Laxus asked.

“I stayed up until 4 to take a picture of the Lyrids,” Freed explained. Laxus had no idea what he was talking about. “I had planned to do it this Friday but yesterday was the night of the peak, and there was no cloud, I had to take advantage of it. I did well, because the photos came out perfect, I’ll show you if you want… oh, well, I guess you don’t care.” Freed interrupted and Laxus smiled. He was used to hearing Freed getting lost in talking, after the first few days in which he had been very reluctant to talk about himself, Freed had begun to open up. A characteristic of him was to talk in a long and involved way about things that related to astronomy. Laxus was honestly fascinated, he would have been listening to Freed talk for hours.

“Actually, it interests me.”

Freed looked at him a little skeptically, then, probably too caught up in the subject, opened the phone. Laxus smiled when he saw that Freed was looking at his Instagram - specifically, a photo that Laxus was particularly proud of - and pretended he hadn’t seen anything just because Freed already looked pretty embarrassed.

But the fact that he was watching him was nice. Besides, that meant he was interested, right?

“Here,” Freed said turning the screen towards him, and Laxus paused to get a better look. It was a shooting stars photo, it looked really damn professional.

“Wow,” he commented. “I didn’t even know it was possible to take a picture like that, I thought you needed special tools.”

“All you need is a camera and a tripod. This weekend I’m going back, I’ll probably go to Rosemary, in the mountains all the photos are better.”

“You mean you will stop and sleep outside in a tent?” Laxus asked and Freed nodded.

“This is the idea.”

Laxus nodded, and for a while he said nothing. He wanted to find a way to go with him, but he didn’t like inviting himself, even though Freed clearly enjoyed his company. And clearly, he wouldn’t mind dating him, judging by the photo he was looking at on his Instagram profile.

“I also wanted to go hiking this weekend” as soon as he saw Freed’s skeptical frown, Laxus blushed. He hadn’t been very subtle. Fortunately, despite the evidently pleased expression on Freed’s face, Freed didn’t make fun of him.

“You can join if you like, but I recommend that you bring your own tent. Mine is small,” he proposed. Laxus barely held back a smile. Well, it had been less difficult than he had expected. They spent the last few minutes organizing, and finally exchanging phone numbers, and when Laxus got home that night, he dreamed of shooting stars and Freed’s handsome face.

***

Laxus watched Freed work as he slipped the camera into the tripod and set the correct position.

They were on top of Rosemary’s mountain. Laxus had driven to the village and then he and Freed had taken a path to reach that place which, indeed, had a wonderful view. Laxus had never been there, but he was already there enjoying the view and… well, Freed.

In particular it had been nice to watch Freed take pictures at sunset, the warm light reflected on his face made him look even more beautiful and, Laxus kept repeating it from the first time he saw him, it was unfair how easy it was to fall in love with him. He was even more unfair when Laxus thought he didn’t know him yet. But it had never been easier for him to talk to a guy, while with Freed it seemed all natural.

“You’re bored?” Freed asked as he stepped away from the tripod and approached him. Laxus shook his head.

“It’s actually quite relaxing.” He was sincere, the walk up there had tired him, sitting on the grass and feeling the cool night breeze was really invigorating. A feeling that he hadn’t experienced for a long time, since his grandfather took him on outdoor trips as a child.

“I don’t know if you’re lying or honest, most people would be bored,” Freed said as he stretched out beside him, and stared up at the sky.

“I’m honest, trust me, I’ve no problem saying when something bores me, at the cost of being unpleasant,” Laxus said with a half-smile.

“You never did it with me,” Freed said, glancing at him sideways.

“Because I don’t get bored with you.” Laxus flushed slightly at the revelation, while Freed laughed softly.

“Wow.”

Laxus quickly changed the subject so as not to feel embarrassed.

“Come on, tell me something about the universe,” he said lying on the ground next to Freed and looking at the sky, which actually could be seen from there better than in the city. He could see the Milky Way too, which Laxus didn’t even know could be done. He was beginning to understand why Freed liked astronomy. If that had become their weekly outing, Laxus would have loved it. Even that thought made him blush, because he was already thinking like Freed was his boyfriend.

“Do you see those stars there?” Freed said raising an arm. “The ones that make a kind of W in the sky,” he said. Laxus had to try hard to see the letter, but with Freed’s help he succeeded.

“That is the Cassiopeia constellation. Inside there are star clusters. I didn’t bring the telescope but next time if I remember I’ll take it with me so you can watch them,” he said and Laxus smiled at the sentence, so there would be a next time. Freed didn’t seem to notice what he had said - like every time he started talking about astronomy - and began to tell him about the nebulae, pointed to the constellations and passed him the binoculars to see the double stars, and when the shooting stars began to show over their eyes, he looked even more excited, and began to tell about what the first swarm of historical observation was like, telling him several anecdotes and letting him discover things Laxus didn’t even know existed.

He wasn’t kidding when he thought he’d listen to Freed for hours, it was so relaxing to listen to him, and with the passion he put into explaining it made Laxus more curious.

Then, when Freed fell silent, Laxus turned to him, and noticed that the boy was staring at him too.

“What’s up?” Laxus asked confused by his silence.

“I thought you fell asleep,” Freed admitted. “You know, when I talk about the universe, I don’t realize that I talk a lot. Don’t be afraid to interrupt me if it bores you.”

“I tell you I’m not bored,” Laxus said. Freed looked at him a little uncertainly, nodded and then returned to look at the sky. Laxus hoped that he would start talking again, but this time the boy remained silent, and Laxus looked at his profile for a while before deciding to speak.

“What’s up? You look tense,” he said.

“Nothing,” Freed said and Laxus frowned. He didn’t know Freed well, but that silence wasn’t like him. Also, he seemed to have a wistful look, as if he was thinking too much.

“You can talk to me, you know,” Laxus said.

Freed hesitated a moment longer before explaining. “Just, my ex left me because he thought I was too presumptuous, he got tired of listening to me because he thought I wanted to make him feel stupid,” he said and Laxus paused for a moment. Freed had never talked about his ex before him, Laxus didn’t even know he had one. Not that he should have been surprised, he just didn’t expect the topic. “But I don’t do it for this reason, I just... I really like knowing the secrets of the universe.”

Laxus continued to look at him.

“Your ex was an idiot,” he said and Freed’s eyes widened slightly and turned to him. “You are undoubtedly presumptuous when you want to annoy someone, but when you talk about what you’re passionate about, you’re not doing it for that reason. You just have fun.”

Freed looked at him in surprise, and Laxus realized in that moment how close they were. He didn’t know exactly when they had approached, but their arms touched, and Laxus had bent his leg slightly, touching Freed’s thigh with his knee.

“I really do,” Freed whispered, his face looking enchanting in the dim starlight. “I’m glad you don’t think the same.”

“Only an idiot would think that,” Laxus said quickly. He didn’t blush, but Freed did, and Laxus took a little courage to reach out to him, touching Freed’s wrist. Freed dropped his gaze to the point of contact, then his eyes returned to Laxus’s face.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“No problem, I’m just saying what I think,” Laxus said, and a little shiver of joy filled him as Freed began to weave his fingers around his. He was suddenly feeling like a teenager again, could such a small touch really shake him so much?

“I… I’m really happy to have met you,” Freed revealed, eyes flying all over Laxus’s face, obviously embarrassed. Laxus could only look at him, suddenly at a loss for words. “I haven’t enjoyed hiking in a long time, since I usually come alone, and it’s nice that you wanted to come even if it’s not exactly your same passion. So, well, what I mean is...”

Freed didn’t finish the sentence, because Laxus had already moved against him, softly closing the space between them with a kiss.

It was since he’d first seen him that Laxus wanted to do it, and now… now he could only be glad he started flirting with Freed that afternoon in the library. Because if he hadn’t, he probably wouldn’t have found himself on that mountain looking up at the starry sky with Freed, and kissing him and hearing him talk so sweetly about him, like no one ever did.

When he broke away their hands were still together, and little breaths filled the space between their lips. For a moment they looked into each other’s eyes, both incredulous and slightly embarrassed.

Laxus moved back slightly, but still didn’t let go of Freed’s hand, unsure of what to say. He had never been good with words and the kiss had completely destabilized him, because the feeling of Freed’s soft lips on him was so much better than anything he had expected.

“Um... do you have to, photograph the stars?” Laxus finally managed to say, and he became even more agitated because of all the things he could have said this was the worst. As if he didn’t like the kiss. He could have said that he was happy to be there, that he too hadn’t enjoyed so much for a long time, that he would have liked to stay up there for days, away from the city and the college as if that were a beautiful dream, but nothing of all that could come out of his mouth.

Freed at least didn’t seem disappointed.

“I have better things to do,” he said. A moment later they were kissing again, and Laxus realized at that moment something he didn’t understand the first time he saw Freed. Not only was he completely in love, but the man was also perfect for him. If he hadn’t married him, he would have regretted it for the rest of his life.

[chibidarkness1111]

@suicidal-coffin-boy

By popular (by my standards) demand, the people have spoken! I shall provide:

(4/3/24)

Within the universe and art style of the Coffin of Andy and Leyley are two twin siblings who live as a Nun and Priest in their local Church on the outskirts, far from the city and its neverending pandemic.

The younger brother was stern and diligent, if extremely introverted, while the older sister was affable and sweet to everyone, if a bit headstrong. She had long wavy hair and blue eyes. Her brother had short, smooth black hair in a tiny ponytail, and though the shine from his glasses largely hid his eyes, they were red. He often squinted or closed them when people got close, he was worried that they looked Demonic.

They are well-liked in their community and their parents who help run the Church are very proud of how close and friendly they are to each other. They've never fought even once.

One day after service, the pair discover a special tome in the building's archives that they mistake as a Bible, all written in a script they didn't recognize. It wasn't Hebrew or Aramaic, but this was definitely before King James' rendition. The brother thinks it's just a historical replica of an older model while his sister insists that it's a truly ancient version from when Jesus was still alive.

They were both wrong. It's a magical Grimoire.

Not Demonic! Just magical.

Deciding to sneak it up in their room, the two end up sharing a dream where they could manipulate the Church's layout. The sister decides to give the building's library a secret manga section that she knows her little brother would like, while he creates a small rose garden in the Church's courtyard that he knows his sister would like.

Upon waking up the next morning, they jokingly check the Church to see if it changed and lo and behold, there is a new section filled with not-so-service-friendly manga hidden in the wall behind an empty bookshelf and an array of crimson red roses blooming in the grass around the stone fountain.

Though overjoyed by the changes, inwardly for the brother and very outwardly for the sister, they are shocked beyond belief that it worked.

They ask around but the others in their congregation all think that the garden was always there. They wisely choose to keep the 'Special Bible' a complete secret between themselves.

And unbeknownst to either of them, the Grimoire has a side effect where with each use, it also acts on one subconscious desire of the user(s). The two are now too embarrassed to question the other on why they changed a little. His hair is suddenly so much longer and her breasts now are way bigger than yesterday, without an ounce of back pain.

There is now an extra addition to the Church that neither put in... a brand new space in the attic that serves an unknown purpose.

That's about all I can remember before I woke up.

They didn't have names as far as I could remember and their heights fluctuated throughout, but those are the OCs I dreamt up lol

No way I dreamed up two TCOAAL OCs and an entire premise for them. No fucking way that's in my dream journal now...

...anyone wanna see them?

[midnottart]

Home

Thor comes home after a long journey.

tags: slice of life, one shot, Thor’s POV

-*-

The sun was setting when Thor arrived back at Asgard, the light reflected at the highest points of Asgard’s towers. Thor’s body ached from the days long journey on a horse’s back and he was more than happy to give the reins of his equally tired horse to one of the stable boys to take care of the mare. He chose one of the lesser travelled staircases to get to his chambers to avoid drawn out talks with people he would have met on the main way to the palace’s inner rooms. Thankfully at this time most Æsir were too busy with the preparations to bring the day to an end and Thor reached his rooms without further delay. He closed the door behind him with a big sigh and immediately began to strip down to his naked body. He did not exactly smell like a prince of Asgard after the trip and he couldn’t wait to get in the hot water of his bathtub.

There was another reason for his hurry to get the dust and stank off of his body and present himself more properly. His journey came to an end just in time for the evening round where Asgard’s Queen would gather her children and trusted companions in her chambers to tell stories and to sit together. A tradition that began before Thor’s time and was exactly what Thor needed now to rest his aching muscles.

It was already after nightfall when Thor emerged from his room in clean linen clothes, his wet hair tied up to a loose ponytail. Again he chose the more hidden ways, with a detour to one of the smaller kitchens to get something to eat, and went through Frigga’s gardens to come to her halls. The gardens lay cold and dark and Thor was glad for it, he was too tired to step through the main entrance and being inevitably greeted by excited children, hanging themselves on every limb of him and begging him to tell them about his travels. He loved them all but also knew he couldn’t match their energy this evening.

Thor stopped on the terrace before Frigga’s room, the fire inside the chamber was already burning and threw its light out in the dark. Inside the room life was buzzing, he saw his mother sitting at the fire, two of her many children at her side browsing through books to choose a tale while others were settling down on the cozy cushions around them. Frigga’s maidens were sitting on the lounges behind the cushions, happily chatting with Asgard’s dames and lords. It was how it always has been as long as Thor could remember. This was a place of comfort and trust as it was Frigga’s wish. Everyone here was invited to listen to the tales or to engage in quiet conversations.

And sure enough, in one of the darker alcoves, secluded from the energetic centre of the room, Thor found who he was looking for. Loki had come to the evening round, even when he did not care to join the others in the circle, he still sought out the company. Right now he was immersed in an old tome, absently chewing on his lip, a leg tucked under him. Before quietly stepping in the room Thor waited for a few more breaths to take in a very rare view of Loki being unaware of him being observed.

Thankfully everyone was already listening to Frigga telling a story out of the book on her lap or too focused on their own talks so that Thor emerging from the shadows did not make any waves. Of course Frigga noticed anyway and gave Thor a wink without losing a beat in her telling and one or two Æsir giggled and threw Thor inviting looks to get him sit next to them. A reaction Thor was used to as well as the small one Loki gave him which he nearly missed. Loki merely closed his book as soon as Thor came near him and hid it away in his cloak. Thor got the feeling that he shouldn’t ask Loki about the contents of his readings. Loki’s eyes wandered over Thor’s face and body and now Thor felt like a book himself, being so openly read by Loki.

Wordlessly Thor sat down next to Loki, softly pushing against him to make room in the small alcove. Sitting made him feel his tired body even more and Thor closed his eyes for a moment. He felt Loki next to him, rearranging his sitting position, his sharp shoulder poking into Thor’s arm and his bent leg falling over Thor’s thigh, a silent protest of Thor taking away too much space. They used to fit here together better as adolescent boys and the memory made Thor smile a little. His smile grew wider when Loki whispered in his ear that Thor reeked of horse. Then he remembered a peace offering and reached into his pocket to pull out small pastries he took earlier from the kitchen. He used to bring those after a fight between them or when he thought Loki needed solace. And now it had become a way to draw a connection to Loki. Thor was never sure if Loki would have been here in Asgard or gone again, for a longer time than Thor could bear. And he knew, when Loki gracefully accepted the pastry, that for now everything was well. His body began to relax and he was lulled into the soft whispers of his mother telling a tale and the conversations in the room. Next to him Loki had opened his book again and was leaning against him, his fingers on Thor’s wrist.

Thor was finally home.

note: I like the idea of Odin and Frigga adopting a lot of children, young and old, no questions asked. Ao3: x

[kazhuad]

diluc ragnvindr: second chances

still thinking if this is gonna end up angsty,, but diluc exudes comfort so i'll hold off the sad vibes for now 🥰🥰 enjoy the first part!

masterlist

《next part》

word count: 1, 272 tags: none

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Seeing the fireflies' dim glow and the feeling of cobblestone on your heels had nostalgia sinking deep in your skin. You glanced further and saw the wisp of dandelions decorating the front gate.

You're home, the thought crossed your mind, and you felt a sense of calm washing over you. The countless days traveling from Sumeru on foot, hopping from inn to inn, has left you fatigued, but seeing the crest of the lion seeped away all the exhaustion.

The contents of your travel bags rattled as you readjusted your hold. You quickly scanned the interior of your satchel, checking if the items were still in one piece. You let out a breath when you observed that your papers and tomes were dry and safe.

You strode over to the gates, pausing when the knights halted you and asked for your purpose of visiting the city. You hastily introduced yourself and explained that you were a local. One of the knights' faces lit up in recognition and you were permitted for entry after some small talk.

You deducted that your arrival would be well into the night, where only a few drunkards and knights would be present in the quiet streets. You didn't mind since you preferred resting up before seeing familiar faces.

This familiar face, however, was something you never thought to see again.

"Diluc?" your voice shocked you back into the real world, with it coming out louder than you anticipated. Your chest tightened when the figure stopped in their stride, body turning towards you.

Four years. A nation or two. The time and distance weren’t enough to make you forget. His scarlet locks sit comfortably in a low ponytail, and you could feel the weight of his ruby irises on you. His expression was something akin to a deer startled by a hunter.

It was the same expression that you last saw on him back then.

"You're here."

Somehow you spoke in unison with him, which made the moment feel surreal. Your body stood there rigid, like a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over you. Diluc was the opposite, fidgeting with his collar. He seemed more anxious, now that he also realized that you were actually here.

The first thing you noticed was his height. Even with the distance, he was considerably taller than you last remember him. Along his growth spurt, you took note of how his clothes hugged his body more tightly. A flash of heat pass down your neck at the thought.

Without warning, he started towards you, expression cautious, but welcoming. You remained unresponsive even as he reached where you stood. Diluc held out his hands towards you.

"May I?" His question confused you and you felt a bit slow as you watch Diluc sigh at your cluelessness.

"Your luggage. I'll carry it back to wherever you're staying." He clarified, and you saw his fingers beckon for the said items. "Come on, you look like you're about to pass out."

His tone remained cool, but from your past interactions with him, you figured that it was because of his practiced formality. Although, that tone of his was something he reserved for strangers.

The weight of your suitcase was lifted from you. The cool leather from Diluc's gloved hand grazed your fingers and you swear you felt goosebumps moving down your arm. Diluc didn't flinch, yet you noticed the slight furrow in his eyebrows.

After a few beats, both of you were walking side by side deeper into the streets. You were left carrying your small satchel as Diluc held onto the bulky luggage. The sound of your footsteps accompanied the silence between you two.

Even with the friendly gesture, the air around you felt heavy with the weight of unspoken questions and lingering doubts. Your mind still hasn't processed the fact that Diluc was right next to you.

You scoffed internally, realizing how bizarre the situation was. It's as if the Anemo Archon themselves carried your wishes in the wind and brought you back the person you thought to be long gone.

Your musings muddled your head for a while until you urgently stopped in your tracks and mentally scolded yourself. You haven't told Diluc where you were staying, and you were probably trudging the streets aimlessly as he trailed you.

Yet as you registered your surroundings, you were floored, because your destination was right in front of you. You checked, double-checked, and, you were sure. The front door was a bit worn, the wood looking aged from the natural wear and tear, yet it stood there sturdy as ever.

You couldn't help but whip your head towards Diluc, a puzzled look in your eyes. You opened your mouth, then closed it quickly, retracting the urge to ask him. It seemed a bit out of place to question him.

Diluc cleared his throat, most likely noticing your dilemma. "This was the house you lived in, right? Before we-"

The sentence was left unfinished, and you suspected that he wasn't going to continue that train of thought. He didn't have to.

"Yes, it's pretty impractical to move away from the main town when I have this lovely place here." There was no quiver in your voice as you changed the subject, even as you felt your head spinning.

He remembered.

You met Diluc's eyes, gauging his expression at the little revelation he told you. Diluc avoided eye contact as quickly, yet he recovered in record time and nodded his head. "I suppose so."

The conversation fell off once again, and you were debating on whether to invite him inside or rush into your home and lock him out. Luckily, Diluc decided for you and you saw him put your luggage down.

"I’ll leave you to it, then. The night's still young for me, and there's a mountain of paperwork at the winery guild." He nodded his head towards you, and you responded with a hum until you realized what he said.

"You're handling Dawn Winery now?"

You took into account his attire. It was heavy and had too many layers for someone who was supposed to be a knight. You should've noticed sooner he wasn't wearing any garment that resembled a uniform. You internally scolded yourself for focusing your attention on what Diluc was wearing, once again.

The exhaustion must've affected your head because you've realized too late what you said when you glanced at his face and saw Diluc’s careful expression falter.

You let out a forced cough, wringing your hands in front of you. "Forgive me, you don't have to answer that."

Diluc replied with a quiet "it's fine." and you wanted to throw yourself into the Cider Lake headfirst. He moved to the side and started walking away.

You stood there, watching him leave, yet he stopped midway and turned his body to face you once more.

"I’m glad you're back."

His dark-clad figure retreated into the sleeping streets of Mondstadt, and your eyes followed him until his red mop of hair disappeared into the corner.

"You too." The words were spoken to no one in particular as you leaned on the doorway of your home. The tension in your body slowly dissipated as you replayed Diluc's words in your mind.

Something tells you that being greeted by his familiar presence as soon as you came back into the city wasn't a coincidence. You had a feeling that the ties you had with him weren't completely severed and that perhaps you and Diluc could make up for the lost time.

Maybe it's time to see how this year's vineyards have been doing.

[yana53]

Thomas Asclepias Everdeen

Nicknames: Tom, Everdeen 

Date of Birth: November 29th, 1788 - July, 28th, 1814

Age: 26

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay, Gay As Hell. ((has a thing specifically for professional dudes, like charming, well-spoken and well-mannered dudes))

Pronouns: He/Him

----------------------------------------

Height: 5'9

Weight: 149 lbs

Eye colour: deep blue 

Hair type/length: medium length but he keeps it tied up in a small ponytail 

Hair colour: light ash brown

Type of body: kinda lanky, he has a taller frame from his time.

Skin tone: Porcelain pale 

Skin type: Human?

Distinguished marks: Scar on the left side of his face from pluto, a birthmark on his upper back and lower right side/back

----------------------------------------

Interests: ballroom dancing, sword fighting, old abandoned buildings/castles/manors, tomes of obscure knowledge, mystery, writing, and anything he may have missed out on during his time behind the window. 

Dislikes: coffee mugs, wasting things, danger and water

Family: Pluto (Deceased) 

Hobbies: Writing, collecting bookmarks, Photography, taking care of Bonsai trees, Reading and music (he likes singing but doesn’t do it much)

Habits: prone to muttering, chewing on things and lip-picking. He often goes through his vocabulary when he needs ideas or is bored/thinking 

Phobias: Aquaphobia, fear of water/big, deep, bodies of water

Disorders/Syndromes/Medical needs: Severe Anxiety, an allergy to coffee beans.

----------------------------------------

Skills: Writing, cleaning, being a general help.

Semi Backstory: Thomas Everdeen died in 1814, as a ghost watching from the sides he's evolved with the times, this was helped by his already open mind because of his profession, he was an author.

Thomas died due to drowning, he was with his little puppy, pluto.

The scar on Everdeen's face is due to pluto trying to save his beloved owner just before he passed. He was a homo who used to live in a tower, writes public love letters for royalty, book reports for the rich and has his life paid for by the laziness of much better off people. He went outside every day, at least, to walk pluto/run errands but other than that he wasn't outside much, That's why he has really pale and smooth skin, though his hands are riddled with callouses because of hours spent just writing

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2021 #8: Adroit

(Edited 10/10/21. Now on Ao3)

Aeryn’s grunt of frustration was almost inaudible. Gaia looked toward Aeryn to be certain she had actually heard anything.

The Warrior of Darkness frowned at her bandaged hands. She had taken a decent scorching during the last battle against the wind and fire elements, her rapier retaining more heat than she realized during combat. Once it was over, massive blisters erupted over her fingers, her cracked and stiffened palms an angry red.

Urianger had healed what he could with his arts, then had slathered her digits in a cooling poultice and wrapped them up, instructing her to rest and recover for a few days. This, of course, delayed the continuation of their efforts in the Empty.

Most daily activities Aeryn could passably manage, but some tasks required a fair amount of dexterity. Such as putting up her hair in her favored braids and tails to keep it out of her face. Aeryn’s fine black locks drifted around her shoulders and down her back, a nuisance in the cramped quarters of the tent.

“Allow me,” Thancred’s voice was quiet as he stepped up to Aeryn’s low camp chair, deftly snagging the comb from her awkward grasp. With nothing to fight, his coat and chest plate draped over a supply crate by the entrance flap, his gloves dropped on top of the pile, tall boots standing next to them. He wore a tight-fitting dark shirt and a sturdy pair of pants, moving with even more economy and silence than he did in full gear—and he was impressively stealthy while armored. Gaia often forgot he was there, and she had been surprised more than once by him suddenly near her, not having seen or heard him move.

Gaia sipped her tea and tried to pretend she wasn’t watching while Thancred murmured to Aeryn, drawing out a blush—not very difficult, Aeryn blushed at anything and everything—as he combed through her dark tresses, removing tangles without a single wince from her. Soon his fingers were weaving strands into small braids along the sides of her skull while leaving her sweeping side bangs. He pulled her hair up to the crown of her head to let the rest fall in a ponytail, the almost waist-long locks now skimming her shoulders.

The entire time, Thancred distracted Aeryn with stories and teasing, making her laugh and otherwise not think about her injured hands. When he finished, she scrutinized his work in a mirror. Apparently finding the style satisfactory, Aeryn carefully caught his hand with her wrapped ones, brushing a kiss across his scarred knuckles as she said “Thank you,” making him grin.

A few fulms away, trying to read a heavy tome, Urianger exaggerated rolling his eyes. He gave Thancred a cheeky smirk when the other man pretended to glower, the elf only ducking when Aeryn threw a wadded up kerchief at him.

“Disgusting, aren’t they?” Ryne sighed dreamily as she flopped to sit too close to Gaia, watching Thancred help Aeryn to her feet, his guidance subtle enough to allow her to think she managed on her own. Ryne wore a sappy expression through it all.

“Extremely,” Gaia replied dryly, sipping more tea and averting her gaze, lest she accidentally show that she felt the same way as Ryne was looking.

[shizukateal]

What are your thoughts on Godoka and Homucifer?

Homucifer looks better than Godoka.

I'm sorry, but Godoka is just... all she does is attach "more". A lot of fanart makes her look great, but lets not kid ourselves, people. That hairstyle isn't actually good, it's just "more" hair. Everytime I look at it I feel like I could just pull the extensions off and leave Madoka with her actual hair, but I get that they put it because the ponytails alone wouldn't go with the train. Still, Madoka does not have the body type for a boob window, hell, she can only pull off that skirt without her usual side ribbons when it puffs up. There was no reason to put pointy stilettoes under thigh-high socks when they could have just been thigh-high boots. On itself as a piece of fashion, yeah, the dress alone is great. I prefer trains when they don't look detachable from the main skirt, sure, but even I am not so nitpicky, especially with the galaxy insole. It's just that Madoka is not the right model for it, especially with all the other choices they made around it.

Homucifer's sexyness feels a lot more natural by contrast. Yes, she has a cut over her boobs (which @leafbladie pointed out tome that gives the impression of a broken heart, very clever, I can't believe I didn't think of that first), but since they are mostly covered you don't get distracted by how small they are, and the cuts on the sides help give the illusion that she's curvier than she looks, which is good because actually Homura is practically a rectangle. The socks over the heels are weird as well, but they are her brand of weirdness that separates her from other generic devil characters, the skirt transitions a lot more naturally, and the ribbon is well incorporated as contrast. So I'm sorry Madoka, but she's got you beat on this one.