#Ballad of Serenity | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dizzyjaden · 1 month

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❝ all that is ephemeral ❞

Scaramouche x gn! Reader

♤ Summary: Relaxing fluffy evening after your husband comes home from work.

♤ Warnings: Implication of death, immortal x mortal, arranged marriage (but happy !), fluffy Scaramouche :')

♤ A/N: You are the world just as much as you are a small grain of sand. Accept where you are mortal, embrace where you are immortal. Scaramouche will love you anywhere <3

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"Darling, what is on your mind?"

Your tender voice cuts through the silence in the room where you sit alongside your husband. His eyelids slowly lift, tired as he seems, he is ethereal when the light from the window of the sunset outside lays itself bare across half his face in his dimly lit home. But as his lover, you do not see his serenity, all you see is the stress in the furrow of his brow.

He does not respond to your question, only brings his lips to meet your cheek, and then asks a question of his own.

"How do you not find boredom while sitting silently?" He whispers, resting his head on your shoulder. "So many I know can't stand still for a second."

Your answer comes more naturally than you expect.

"Your latent presence alone is contentment. Everything that needs to be said between the two of us floats through the room without a voice to accompany it."

Scaramouche stares up at you in admiration, his eyes half-lidded and his lips slightly parted.

"Don't you find life far too short to not speak your mind?" He asks.

You smile sadly.

"I actually find it excruciatingly long."

He smiles back.

"Time has passed so much swifter since I met you." He speaks. His smile falters slightly. "I feel as though life with you will pass in the blink of an eye."

"Is that what was on your mind?" You ask, digging your heels in quickly. It is so uncommon for Scaramouche to talk about his own thoughts and reflections with you.

"Sure... Amongst so many other little things." He whispers.

"Some big Tsaritsa-issued assignment tomorrow?" You question awkwardly.

You don't like the nature of his work. He knows this, so he rarely talks about it. You'd rather he talk about it than attempt to pretend it isn't happening around you.

Scaramouche sighs.

"I don't want to discuss work with you." He mutters. "Everything but you feels akin to work nowadays. I'd like to keep it all separated in my head."

You shake your head in disagreement.

"I'd love to take some worries off your shoulders." You say. "That's it."

He blinks up at you for a few quiet moments before sighing.

"I don't want to discuss anything." He clarifies. "Everything that needs to be said... Floats. Like you said."

You nod, quickly accepting the challenge.

The rest of the evening passes quietly, simply. After a while, you go on to prepare dinner with him. When you first got married, you'd usually shoo him away from the kitchen. Assuring him that you were more than happy to make him dinner, eventually, he admitted he just feels awkward watching you work alone, and you allowed for his extra set of hands.

Your entire engagement was not the most ideal. Your marriage had been arranged. Apparently, it was obvious to the cryo archon that Scaramouche did not have roots in Snezhnaya or attachment to his position. Marriage was her idea for him meant to keep him in place. You were just picked out from all the other noble families in Snezhnaya.

While it was something both of you resented at first, you now wonder that maybe as the goddess of love, The Tsaritsa knew what she was doing. The two of you did fall in love. You were certain you knew what to expect from a marriage with a harbinger, The Balladeer no less. You emotionally prepared yourself to live a life as a servant or a maid, rather than a spouse.

But when you moved in with him, you came to the realization so quickly that he wasn't loud, arrogant, or demanding. He was just quiet. Peaceful, even. Irritable, but respectful when met with confrontation. At first, it seemed as though he was just too tired from work to make his time at home a warzone as well, but affection was born of the inconvenience. He made a habit out of finding where you were in the house and preferred being nearby.

Aside from the servants who assist you in housekeeping, his mansion is empty. Silent rather than quiet. Barren. Anyone would become lonely.

Scaramouche was truly easy to understand. Your observations in his day-to-day life made the pieces fall into place. He wanted to love. He wanted to be loved. He was never sure where to look for it.

You are unsure how anyone could describe him as cruel as he quietly apologizes for merely grazing your side when you begin to set the dining table.

The two of you eat quietly, he practically scarfs his own food down, which humors you. He is always famished by the end of the day.

"Would you like mine as well?" You offer your portion of food to him without a second thought, he glares at you as if you just insulted him.

"Eat your food [Name]." He says in irritation. "Your day was no shorter than mine."

You hum in agreement.

When you finish eating your food, you're surprised to see Scaramouche waiting, staring at you eagerly when you look up to him. You smile.

"Yes...?"

You prompt him, though you know why he's looking at you like that. But, Scaramouche just isn't the kind of person to shamelessly admit that he so desperately looks forward to the conclusion of each day, when the two of you are curled up in each other's arms holding one another tightly in the warm comfort of a giant luxurious bed.

"Nothing." He lies.

And yet, when you go to wash the dishes from dinner, his arms are greedily wrapped around you, hugging you from behind with his face buried in your shoulder. You choose to not mock him about it, he is rather warm.

After you finish the dishes, he follows you into the bedroom where the two of you resign to your usual sides of the room to change into more sleep-appropriate clothing.

You turn towards the bed once you're changed, and realize Scaramouche has already buried himself under the covers, his face deep in the plush of the pillows, obviously exhausted.

You smile, and climb in beside him. He blindly holds out an arm to pat the area you've taken next to him, when his hand finds your cheek his thumb affectionately rubs across it.

"I... Missed you all day." He professes, his voice muffled from the silk covering his mouth.

You can't help but blush at his honey-coated tone. You don't respond but shuffle closer to him, causing him to turn on his side to face you.

He brushes your hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear.

"Will you... Always be here?" He asks quietly. "You won't... Leave or anything?"

"What a notion..." You say in a low voice. "Where did that come from?"

"I want you to say... That you won't leave." Scaramouche said, a slight blush dusting his cheeks to signify his embarrassment.

"I won't leave you, Kuzu." You say certainly, without hesitation. "Ever. Trust me."

His eyes trailed off as he got lost in thought.

"I want to take you... And all that is ephemeral... And keep it for myself. But I can't... All I can do is be in this moment where you are here." He speaks.

Your eyes widen.

"I am telling you I will not leave-"

"You are mortal, [Name]." He whispers shakily. "You can't keep your promise, no matter how badly either of us want you to."

You are confused, but Scaramouche pulls you to his chest before you can speak again.

"Love you... I love you." He kisses the top of your head sleepily. "Get some rest, my love."

"...Goodnight, Kuzu..."

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sp00kygoddessxx · 5 months

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➳Scaredy Cat➳

Unbeknownst to you, Alucard observed your movements with a keen awareness. His crimson eyes, a window to a soul steeped in darkness, followed your every step. Tonight, however, the vampire harbored no nefarious intentions. Instead, a playful curiosity flickered in the depths of his gaze—a curiosity that would soon unfold into an unexpected encounter.

As you turned a corner, the sudden appearance of Alucard emerged from the shadows, his figure materializing like a phantom. The abruptness of his presence caught you off guard, and a startled gasp escaped your lips.

"Alucard!" you exclaimed, hand pressed to your chest as you sought to steady your racing heart. "You have a way of making an entrance."

The vampire regarded you with a bemused expression, a hint of mischief glinting in his crimson eyes. "My dear, in the realm of shadows, surprises are inevitable. Did I startle you?"

You offered a sheepish smile, the remnants of adrenaline still coursing through your veins. "Just a bit. You have this uncanny ability to appear out of nowhere."

Alucard chuckled, the sound echoing through the corridor like the haunting melody of an ancient ballad. "Forgive me, my dear. I did not mean to disturb your serenity."

Despite the initial shock, a sense of calm settled over you as you met Alucard's gaze. The vampire, usually a harbinger of darkness, seemed almost human in that moment—a playful companion rather than an otherworldly entity.

"No harm done, Alucard," you reassured, your earlier fright fading into amusement. "I suppose navigating these halls comes with its own set of surprises."

The vampire inclined his head, a gesture that conveyed both acknowledgment and a silent promise. "Perhaps, my dear. But in the shadows, there is a certain beauty. Would you care to continue this nocturnal journey with me?"

With a nod, you fell into step beside Alucard, the two of you traversing the winding corridors of the Hellsing estate. As you walked, the conversation flowed seamlessly, punctuated by Alucard's enigmatic insights and your own musings on the mysteries that surrounded the organization.

Alucard turned to you, his crimson eyes softened by the gentle glow of the moon. "My dear, I owe you an apology for the unintentional scare earlier. Allow me to make amends."

Before you could respond, the vampire closed the distance between you, his gloved hands framing your face with a surprising tenderness. The air crackled with an unexpected intimacy as Alucard lowered his head, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle kiss.

The gesture, so uncharacteristic of the No-Life King, left you momentarily breathless. Alucard, usually a master of darkness, seemed to unravel a softer, more human side—a side that craved connection and understanding.

"I apologize, my dear, for disrupting the tranquility of your night," he murmured, his voice a velvety whisper against your skin.

A warmth spread through you, a paradoxical sensation considering the source. "Apology accepted, Alucard. It's not every day one gets kissed by the No-Life King."

A glint of amusement danced in the vampire's eyes as he pulled away, the moonlight casting a soft glow on his features. "Consider it a testament to the unpredictability of our journey through the night."

#alucard x reader #alucard imagine #alucard hellsing #alucard #hellsing imagines #hellsing ultimate #hellsing #x reader

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yunarim · 1 year

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Going off your "putting a blanket" head canons... If you take requests may I please ask for confessions where the reader says "I love you" in their sleep... Otherwise just ignore this...

「 summary 」 : confessing your love through sleep

♡ referring to this ! — tags : gn reader, fluff, reader wears lip gloss in vil's part, french i'm not sure i used correctly in rook's part (i don't speak french uhm...), flower language in malleus' part, hello kitty stickers in lilia's part bc i'm a fan — song to listen to : 사랑의 말 love words by 첸 CHEN — characters : third-years

— 5k words in total ! [ ao3 link ]

「 Cater Diamond 」 ─ ♡ First time you stumbled upon a Light Music Club meeting was an exciting and enjoyable experience. Not so long after you found yourself hanging out with its members, humming to songs of different genres and even sharing lyrics of your world’s favorite ones.

─ ♡ You realized you’ve become an honorary guest or some sort of a talisman, so passing by and seeing you laughing along members wasn’t something unusual.

─ ♡ And despite you being a whole club’s sweet best friend every student could say you were especially attached to Cater.

─ ♡ Cater himself adored your obliviousness and chuckled every time you let a little delightful laugh at his compliments regarding your outfit choices or the way you edited your photos.

“Aww Yuu, it’s prohibited to be this cute,” Cater would say, his gaze soft and full of genuine adoration.

“Likewise!” You would reply with a gentle smile of yours and squeeze his hand tightly and cause Cater to crush down mentally.

─ ♡ Today you were scrolling through Cater’s playlist and just when you were about to play an EDM catchy song you saw something out of place. Album’s cover got you thinking the mood was rather gentle, something Cater never listened to (or at least you never saw him doing that).

─ ♡ “Hey Yuu, what bop are we vibing to today?” He asked you while checking on his guitar.

─ ♡ “How about we listen to some ballads today?” You suggested, gaining his full attention on you. “If you don’t mind.”

─ ♡ “Sure thing, bring it on!”

Ephemerally tender music instantly covered your giddiness with a gentle embrace, causing you to relax and close your eyes. You felt Cater bending over you to check what song exactly did you play and smiled.

“The stars are spilling, the light is shining on you.”

He almost whispered these lines but you heard him clearly nevertheless, looking up at him, your eyes shining with pure enthusiasm.

“You could sing it as a lullaby and I would fall asleep instantly. Your voice’s so lulling.”

Cater blinked twice, asking himself whether he was imagining things or did you actually say his voice was… lulling. He expected it to be bright and maybe even loud, but lulling? He chuckled, parting his lips and letting out a soft hum.

“Don’t go too far, I’ll be right there.”

You lowered the song's volume and relaxed on the sofa you were sitting on. Sudden drowsiness welcomed you in its embrace, causing you to fall asleep instantly as you’ve mentioned not so long ago.

Cater observed your delicate features, appreciating the way you seemed so serene. He was about to bring you a blanket and concentrate on composing a new song, but you suddenly mumbled something incoherently.

“Cater…” he managed to recognize his name through your murmur. “I…”

He wondered what he was doing in your little dream and how beautiful it would be to enter it and stumble upon you in a somnolent realm, but he was here, wide awake and giggling at your small talks through sleep.

“I love you.”

His heart skipped a beat, making Cater choke on air for a moment. He bent over to make sure you were sleeping and you definitely were. Or was it him who dreamed of you confessing to him and this was a representation of a tempting illusion unfolding before him?

No, it certainly wasn’t an illusion. You smiled through your sleep and he took your hand in his, placing a little kiss on your palm.

“Always, I love you.”

「 Trey Clover 」

─ ♡ Sweet soft cream which was supposed to be used for meringue was all over your face, and you giggled at how apparently silly you looked, but it didn’t matter much when Trey was laughing alongside you.

─ ♡ You almost forgot you volunteered to help Trey prepare everything for tomorrow’s unbirthday party with how often you would find yourself just messing around and entertaining Trey with your stories which to your delight he enjoyed listening to.

─ ♡ He noticed how sloppy and clumsy your movements were, given how diligently you were fulfilling your overseer duties and taking care of the certain duo and Grim during the whole day.

─ ♡ He threw a quick glance at the copybooks you brought, a sympathetic smile blossoming on his face.

─ ♡ First years always have a lot of tedious homework to do but you still tried to have your foot in both camps and when Trey was performing miracles of culinary magic, you tried your best in order to not to lose your concentration.

─ ♡ Apparently, you weren’t doing great.

Something pricked his chest when he noticed how upset you seemed, dissatisfied with your own work, the cream consistency you willingly volunteered to prepare turned too oily and too much sugary.

He took the towel from the hanger and bent over you, wiping the cream off your face.

Goodness, how adorable you were with those sleepy eyes of yours, pouting a little and yet still looking right into his eyes, you shone with pure admiration.

“I’m sorry, I messed up your work…”

Trey sighed, placing his hands on his hips and smiled at you. As much as he wanted to give you a reassuring hug, you two still were… dearest friends, he wished you thought at least that regarding your relationship.

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself. It’s okay. And if you’re wondering how else could you help then, please take a nap, it’s painful for me to see you being so tired and exhausted. Okay?”

“Oh… okay. But when I wake up I’ll make sure you’re not being too hard on yourself too, got it?”

“Alright.”

─ ♡ You made sure no cutlery or ingredients were on the table and leaned on the table, resting your head on your hands and closing your eyes. You haven’t realized how tired you were, your eyelids feeling leaden.

─ ♡ Trey focused on cooking, occasionally throwing glances at you and smiling every time he noticed how sweetly you were snoring.

─ ♡ He started decorating the tart when the colors of the sky outside the window turned into warm orange hues, announcing an upcoming evening.

─ ♡ He almost used orange-colored cream for the rose-shaped meringue decorations since the image of you sleeping peacefully before him reminded him of a golden afterglow.

He noticed one little cream speck on your cheek, admiring how tender you seemed, and pressed his finger to wipe it but you let out an incoherent sound suddenly.

“Ugh…” you said, your lips parting slightly. “Not the tangerine filling…”

Trey chuckled in delight. Truly, you resembled a little child, apparently recalling a memory of you two making tangerine cake. So unbelievably cute.

“I know you liked it though,” he answered in a small whisper, making sure didn’t wake you up.

“Uhm… Trey…” He shuddered for a moment, something tangling in his stomach at the way you voiced his name so delicately, as if he was a porcelain figurine, ready to break if you would pronounce it a bit louder.

He couldn’t dare to say anything, even think about that, completely immersed in your little somnolent speech.

“I love you… even if you insist on using that stupid tangerine filling…”

A finger he forgot he pressed on your cheek caressed it unwillingly, sliding down to your lips. As he realized what the hell was happening, you smiled gently and giggled softly at his movements, still remaining in Morpheus’ arms.

Ah really, what does he do with you being so absolutely precious?

「 Leona Kingscholar 」

─ ♡ Sevens, you were so annoying.

─ ♡ You caused a whole commotion involving Ruggie and Jack in order to try finding Leona since you had oh so important things you wanted to say.

─ ♡ Leona yawned, rolling over on his bed, his tail resting on his right leg.

─ ♡ Actually, your little murmurings weren’t so irritating as he was claiming every time you asked if he was listening to you.

─ ♡ The way you rambled about your friends or another adventure of yours was kind of pleasant, not to mention your voice resembled a lullaby to him, always being so somnific and gentle.

─ ♡ But surely he would rather let that lizard win in a competition or something than let you know how he felt about being around you.

─ ♡ Stupid herbivore, did you just need to be so—

─ ♡ “Leona!! Finally found you!”

─ ♡ Ah, right, you still were annoying, there’s no denying.

You smiled, making your way towards his bed and taking a seat on it, not even asking since by that time there was no need for such foolish waste of air. Leona wasn’t best with wording, so you got through a ton of “are you that stupid?” and “just sit already or I’ll make you leave” from him.

You smelled nice. Something fresh and coniferous, nothing irritating, maybe even alluring. Your eyes shone brightly, so full of energy, a colorful spectrum of a wide variety of emotions splashing within.

The urge to restrain his tail from wagging against his will was overwhelming and now that was stupidly annoying. Herbivore, are you actually trying to make him fall under your non-magical spell, bewitching him and causing him to admit he was genuinely happy to see you?

He just hummed instead, demonstrating you just enough that he was listening.

“Planning to hide from me? I would find you anywhere.”

And you were so hot for that so it was foolish of him not to accept it.

“Uh-huh,” he answered, closing his eyes. You weren’t upset with his behavior, knowing he has acknowledged you. There was no denying you gained his trust just enough for being so disarmed around you, drowsing with his eyes closed when you were so close.

─ ♡ You searching the whole campus trying to find him became a sweet domestic routine you would often find yourself entertaining with.

─ ♡ Also your ramblings about little things that happened with you during the day turned into something so tender and pleasant that Leona would occasionally grab you, standing in the corridor and speaking to someone, so that the whole college assumed you two were dating.

─ ♡ Maybe you really were, and it was he who actually hasn’t realized but no, alas, you never cared to explain what kind of relationship you two had.

“Hey, are you listening?”

Fun thing is, he actually was, but reflecting about you two was so drainful he preferred to remain silent, his tail the only thing replying to you but you were too busy being a little bit angry at him to notice.

“Fine, sleep, you grumpy cat. I’ll make you talk when you get up!”

First, he wasn’t a cat, and second—

You just have to interrupt his thoughts with your adamant behavior, haven’t you?

He felt the warmth of your body spreading next to him when you laid down, closing your eyes with such a silly angry face he chuckled softly.

He knew his bed was comfortable enough to fall asleep instantly, so there was nothing surprising in you actually drifting into Morpheus' arms. He placed his tail on your leg and observed your gentle features, appreciating what he saw.

“Stupid Leona,” Your lips parted suddenly, and you let out an annoyed noise. Even in your sleep you were scolding him for something oh so important.

“As if,” he replied, not even slightly lowering his voice. “We’re matching in that, herbivore.”

“Why am I… ughm…” Sevens, why even your sleep talks were so cute? “Why do I even… love you… so much…”

Oho, what an interesting statement. Good for you he felt the same. He pulled you close to him, closing his eyes and grinning slyly.

“Me too, herbivore. Maybe I wouldn’t even mind listening to you later.”

「 Vil Schoenheit 」

─ ♡ Somehow you gained unreachable at first glance the honorable ‘Vil’s associate’ title. Or accomplice if you will.

─ ♡ Epel would often ask you how the hell you’ve managed to bewitch the witcher, so that not he observed you not with boiling malicious judgment (really, sometimes Epel was so silly for thinking that way) but with hints of approval instead.

─ ♡ But you truly enjoyed being his ‘accomplice’, appreciating Vil’s work ethic when he took you with him to photoshoots or recording studios.

─ ♡ Today was no exception, and you find yourself resting on the coach and minding your own business in order to not distract Vil during his working hours.

─ ♡ You threw a quick glance at him, standing on the other side of a huge glass almost the entire wall length, adjusting the microphone in accordance with his own height.

You’ve seen idols recording songs in the studios like this, looking a bit domestic and sleep deprived at times, but Vil always made sure he was stunning every second he breathed. Still, you blushed when your gaze flickered over his collarbones, revealing ever so slightly under a faint cerulean-colored blouse. Pleasant warmth spreading on your face caused you to avert your eyes, letting out a little sigh. He was so ethereal in such light colors, you wondered if he ever heard you murmuring to Rook and Epel how fantastically dreamy he seemed, a pristine fairy descended from the pages of ancient fables.

─ ♡ And yet, he was the Vil Schoenheit. A model, an actor, a singer, and first of all, your dearest friend you admired the most. You were sure there was no place for your silly crushes or whatsoever, so you just forced a smile and showed thumbs up when Vil glanced at you before starting recording.

─ ♡ His clear yet audacious voice was so alluringly beautiful so you felt spellbound, dissolving in his new song lines, and closed your eyes, letting his voice guide you straight into sweetest dreams.

An hour passed, and Vil went to the room you were resting in, filling a cup of tea with hot water and taking a seat beside you. You bowed your head in an unnatural position so that Vil was sure you'd be rubbing your neck from the pain on the way home, so he put a pillow under your head, fixing disheveled hair locks from your face.

You were divine in his own eyes. You seemed so natural, so normal and so right beside him.

Vil’s colleague passed by, not even making a try to stop staring at the image of Vil slowly caressing your cheeks and drinking tea casually like it was his daily routine. Vil took a book out of his bag he entrusted you, adjusting your hand rested on the top of it, not noticing how corners of his lips turned upward at the thought of you diligently keeping your duties.

“Mhm…” you mumbled through your sleep, causing Vil to take a glance at you.

You unconsciously snuggled closer to him, carefully touching his perfectly ironed blouse with your fingers even in your sleep.

He allowed you that silly move, chuckling softly and returning his gaze to the book. He wondered if you admitted you were so comfortable around him in your conscious state, too.

“Vil…” you muttered under your breath and he turned to you, making sure you were still sleeping.

He noticed smeared gloss on your parted lips and smiled, slightly cupping your cheek in his hand.

“Yes, dear?” He replied, fascinated by your behavior.

“Ugh… I love you…”

Ah, really. He smiled and decided he needed to fix your gloss, leaving an ephemeral kiss at the corner of your lips.

「 Rook Hunt 」

─ ♡ Ah, look at you being so insanely cute!

─ ♡ He found you in the Pomefiore ballroom, practicing dance moves since you agreed to help Vil with being backup dancer in a new Film Studies Club’s upcoming project.

─ ♡ You sighed, straightening your posture and turning music on, again and again returning to the very beginning. Apparently you had a problem with one little movement you kept on ruining.

─ ♡ You were the only one who thought that, while Rook observed you from the entrance. Fingers pressed to his chin, a joyful smile blossoming with delight splashing in his eyes.

─ ♡ You were absolutely stunning even with sweat drops running down your pretty neck.

You howled in frustration as you stood in front of the mirror and took a deep breath. Rook could hear you counting beats in your head, your hands went up in a sudden movement, and you made the same mistake again, skipping a beat and looking quite down.

As you wanted to try again he approached you, delicately taking your hands in his when you did the same move again, and you gasped a little, turning to him and giggling softly, your voice being a pristine bluebell ringing.

“Rook!” You exclaimed, averting your gaze. Oh, you were so sweaty and exhausted, probably not the best version of yourself to present to him, but Rook viewed you as an absolute divine being, so vivid and blissful.

“Good evening, petite hirondelle,” your hands still were in his. Rook smiled at the pinkish hue dusting your soft cheeks. “Working to the bone as usual?”

“Not really,” you sighed. “I’ve been making the same mistake for an hour or so…”

“I know the way to help you solve this problem,” now that Rook piqued your interest he slightly swirled you, as if in a waltz, and grabbed you by the waist, making you sit on the coach.

“H-hey,” you protested. “I still need to practice more, I can’t be slacking off!”

“My my,” he chuckled, pressing his finger to your lip. “You sure are quite stubborn, aren’t you? Although it warms my heart to see you so persistent about your activities, I’m not telling you to slack off, my dear. I'm advising you to take a rest.”

You thought that maybe he was right. Your eyelids felt heavy, not to mention the sore in your hands after dancing for so long.

“Worry not, I’ll be there to help you when you wake up.”

“Alright, but I’m not planning on taking a nap! I’ll just rest… for a while…”

─ ♡ He chuckled at how fast your consciousness drifted away, your body relaxing after some time you’ve been fighting with yourself in order to not to fall asleep.

─ ♡ Rook smiled in delight looking at your gentle sleepy features and was ready to find a blanket to cover you with, but you suddenly jolted in your sleep, grabbing his hand and mumbling something demandingly.

“Ugh, Rook!..” Your little murmurs were so cute that Rook covered his mouth with his hand, trying to restrain himself from giggling.

“Yes, dear, I’m listening,” he tried answering just out of curiosity. Your furrowed brows were so adorable, not to mention a little pout he was so fond of.

“I… I love you… Let’s… date maybe… mhm..”

Oh Sevens, your words were a pure blessing for him. A sudden sparkle of joy flared up within him, and he didn’t notice how blush covered his cheeks a little, matching him with you.

“What a sweet confession,” he whispered, caressing your cheek, and smiled, deciding to wait for you to wake up and hear those words when you would look straight into his eyes and confess once again.

「 Idia Shroud 」 ─ ♡ Well well… First two hours of having you in his room turned Idia into a blubbering furiously blushing mess, his disheveled hair flickering, bright red sparks fell on your skin, but in the end you found yourself playing with them and enjoying the warmth they radiated.

─ ♡ You didn’t even remember how the hell you made your way into his room and how in the world did you manage to convince him to play games with you.

─ ♡ A vague memory of you claiming you needed his help to beat a new boss in the DLC you bought not so long ago and now it was terrorizing you during sleepless nights, the boss still remaining quite alive and kicking, your ass ahem not letting you to make it any further.

─ ♡ Idia wasn’t opposed to the idea of helping you beat the boss, given he was insanely good with the combat system, but was that necessary to come here?!

─ ♡ Sevens, you were a cuteness hazard, just how could you…

“Dude, you’re hot for hitting those crits, I’m impressed. Like, literally hot.”

“One more shitty pun like this and I’m kicking you out of my room.”

“You already said that a few hours ago when I first came!”

“Jeez just sit still and watch!”

─ ♡ How shameless you were, calling him hot like it was something ever so usual to voice out loud.

─ ♡ And that was extremely hot of you to do, there was no denying.

─ ♡ Ugh, really, he knew he was socially awkward, but he had absolutely no idea about how to… get closer to you at least for a little?

─ ♡ You were so stunning and gorgeous, always making him laugh and being here when he was feeling down, there was no escape route for him to run away from getting a pretty obvious crush on you.

Of course you wouldn’t want him having him as your boyfriend, or even a friend. He had a pessimistic way of thinking, and yet you were here in his room, laughing along with him and making sure he wasn’t slouching too much so his back wouldn’t hurt and cheering him up when the boss’ attacks were hitting hard.

His fingers hurriedly clicked on the console, the combo of punches increased in number, and he was incredibly close to victory.

“Ha! What did you even say about this boss being hard to beat? You just don’t know how— EGH?!”

He felt your forehead thud on his shoulder, and he jolted, screaming in fear.

“Hey?!” He exclaimed, not daring to look at you, the game boss's life indicator kept decreasing on a thin strip. “What the!..”

He suddenly heard you snoring and realized you fell asleep. Seriously, just how did you manage to relax in his presence so that Morpheus took you in his gentle arms that easily?

“Mhm…” you mumbled, not even noticing through your sleep what you actually fell on. “Hey, Idia…”

“What?!” He wondered for a mere second how the hell haven’t you heard him screaming but replied to you nevertheless, the boss was almost over.

“I… I love you…”

“OH SEVENS YOU WHAT?!”

You woke up instantly, gasping and mumbling something incoherently, your eyes staring at the red “YOU DIED” spreading over the screen.

“I just fell asleep and you’re losing already, oh my goodness!.. Hey, what’s with your cheeks? Are you okay?”

Idia didn’t even dare to think what kind of shade of red his cheeks AND his hair were.

「 Malleus Draconia 」

─ ♡ The weather was getting warmer with every new day, presenting an absolutely divine view.

─ ♡ Ramshackle dorm had its own garden, once being beautiful, you supposed, but unfortunately after surviving an extremely cold winter and even rare flowers withered, turning into wrinkled dark petals, causing you only melancholy and sadness.

─ ♡ So you thought you would renovate it all by yourself, thankfully, Sam had flower seeds of all kinds in his shop.

─ ♡ By the current time of the year you already did a great job, and now you were watering a kaleidoscope of multi-colored flowers, the delicate aroma of which instilled inspiration and cheerfulness in you.

Bright green familiar sparks shone under the rays of the golden sun, and you carefully tried to touch them, smiling to yourself and giggling softly, gesturing a greeting to your beloved visitor.

“Good morning, Tsunotarou,” you almost whispered since there was no need to speak loudly.

Green sparkles dissolved, and with a bright flash Malleus appeared before you, giving you a gentle smile.

“Good morning indeed,” he answered, taking his seat beside you when you put the watering can on the ground and sat down on the bench.”I hope I didn’t distract you, child of man.”

“Never,” you replied, appreciating your work and smiling, feeling a little giddy at his appearance.

─ ♡ Malleus’ presence brought calm and peace to you, somehow his only existence could put your thoughts at ease, and you would often find yourself wondering how could you thank him for that.

─ ♡ Little did you know you were already enough with those delightful smiles of yours and all the hard work you put into renovating Ramshackle dorm.

“You’re always so observant with everything you do, child of man. I feel honored to feel so enchanted by the way you manage to impress me.”

“Y-you’re flattering me, Tsunotarou…”

He chuckled at you, who blushed beside him heavily, trying to hide your happy smile.

The silence that suddenly fell between you was not oppressive. You often enjoyed each other's quietness, gestures and glances served as ways of communication instead, so you fixed your eyes on the garden, feeling warmth spreading on your skin under the soft sun rays, and closed your eyes.

“Do you know what white hyacinths and gypsophila mean, child of man?”

Malleus turned his head to you, finding you already asleep. He wouldn't dare to touch you when you were so vulnerable, so he just fixed his gaze on you; an unfamiliar, but apparently unobtrusive sense of calmness bloomed in his chest.

He observed your slightly parted lips and the way your cheeks turned a bit reddish, and wondered why you were so…

“Precious,” he whispered suddenly, his hand stopping midair when you giggled through your sleep, your head suddenly on his shoulder.

“Malleus…” you voicing out his name was something new. He never even thought his own name he heard pronounced in fear, with coy respect or acrid contempt, would sound so tender and genuinely sweet…

He remained silent, finally daring to draw his hand to your chin, caressing it gently.

“The flowers…” you whispered, a little smile appearing on your face after you leaned to his touch. “I hope you… like them..”

“I do enjoy them, thank you, child of man,” he was wondering how far he could go now, since with every word you said something flashed in his chest with a bright firework of joyful emotions.

“Mhm… Love you, Malleus…”

Ah.

He stopped for a mere second before parting his own lips and deciding he couldn’t resist anymore, so he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, apparently waking you up.

“H-huh!.. W-what?..”

“Child of man, let's plant amaranth camellias and lots of forget-me-nots. Together, if you will.”

“Ah? Sure, let’s?..”

He chuckled, taking your hand in his and placing a little kiss on your knuckles. ─ ✿ white hyacinths - constancy. "I'm enchanted forever". gypsophila - caution, timidity. red camelias - passion. "You are the flame in my heart". forget-me-not - memories, true love, sincerity.

「 Lilia Vanrouge 」

“Have you ever tried dying your hair another color?”

─ ♡ What an interesting human being you were!

─ ♡ You were sitting in front of him while he was playing something uncomplicated on the guitar after you gave him your Hello Kitty stickers to decorate it with.

─ ♡ You always wondered how his aesthetic would change if he had bright blue strands or what could happen if he dyed it green?

─ ♡ He would become an embodiment of the Diasomnia whole aesthetics!

“No,” he replied, throwing a quick curious glance at you. “Wanna try dying it for me?”

“Right now?” You gasped and jumped off the chair he suggested you sit on. “For real?”

“Sure thing, sweetie, we just need to find hair dye… I bought it one day.”

─ ♡ After searching his room for hair dye and finding piles of other items of inexplicable nature, it wasn’t even clear what they were intended for, you found red paint and exclaimed triumphantly.

─ ♡ You did all the preparations and made him sit before you, you bending over him and working carefully as if Lilia’s life depended on you.

─ ♡ He closed his eyes, entrusting himself to you, and smiled slyly. Sevens, you were so adorable with that concentrated look in your eyes and careful movements your hands made.

─ ♡ He giggled slightly, causing you to almost freak out because a few bright red drops touched his cheeks, and you had to wipe it with a towel you also found in his drawer.

“How the hell do you look so gorgeous even when your hair is like that? Not to mention the foil pieces.”

“Aww so you do admit I’m gorgeous~”

“Ergh, of course you are!..” You averted your gaze, pouting and trying to hide a sudden blush covering your cheeks. “Anyway! Let’s wait for a while.”

You jumped on his bed, which has become an absolutely usual thing for all the time of your ... let's call it friendship, although neither you nor Lilia obviously regarded your relationship as an ordinary friendship.

The painstaking process of coloring Lilia's hair took a huge amount of energy from you, so that you didn't even notice how suddenly your head was on his pillow, and he chuckled coquettishly, coming up to you and sitting next to you.

“Ho, falling asleep already? Aren’t you in charge of the whole dying process?”

“I’m not falling asleep, you’re seeing things,” you replied with your eyes closed and voice trembling at how tired you were.

Lilia chuckled, slightly poking your cheek and smiling to himself. Goodness, he just couldn’t resist, given how incredibly adorable you were.

Soon enough he found you sleeping peacefully on his bed and planned to wash the dye out of his hair but you mumbled something unexpectedly.

“H-hey, Lilia…” you whispered through your sleep and he turned to you.

“Hm? I’m all ears.”

He approached you, floating midair and wondering how you even managed to fall asleep when the acrid smell of hair dye filled the room.

“I have a shampoo… in my bag…” he giggled at your words. “Take it… I… mhm..”

“Thanks, love,” he answered playfully, actually forgetting where did you place your bag and remaining still to entertain himself a little bit more. No, really, having such a cute friend could be considered a crime.

“Uh-huh…” you replied. “Love you too.”

Now that was interesting. Lilia refrained from pressing his lips to you at that very moment, only for the simple reason that the hair dye smell was still strong enough to wake you up if he moved even a millimeter closer to you.

“Ah really?” He asked instead, a long forgotten feeling of genuine love blossoming in his chest reviving at the moment. “You mean it?”

“Mhm…” you looked so grumpy and adorable. “Love you.”

He touched his finger to his lips, and then pressed it against yours, as if conveying an ephemeral kiss, and covered you with a blanket.

— author's note : i'm sorry for working on this request for so long i hope it would suffice! thank you sm for requesting <33

— tag list : @isacoremeow

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #cater x reader #trey x reader #leona x reader #vil x reader #rook x reader #idia x reader #malleus x reader #lilia x reader

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crystallinestars · 10 months

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Kissing Headcanons Part 4 (Venti, Zhongli, Gorou)

You can find the previous parts here: 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7

(Reader's gender is not mentioned)

Venti is very comfortable kissing any time and any place—the boy has very little shame and isn’t embarrassed to show the world just how much he loves you. He’s fond of kissing your cheeks or lips in greeting since he misses you when the two of you are apart. The bard is also fond of taking your hands in his and intertwining your fingers together before leaning in to touch the tip of his nose to yours. The way you smile and giggle while he rubs his nose against yours makes his heart feel airy and warm, and he laughs along with you. Your laughter makes him feel better whenever he’s feeling down; it’s a genuine comfort for him to see you happy.

Venti likes to bask with you under the warm sunrays that filter through the canopy of the great tree at Windrise. The two of you often lay in the grass together and watch the leaves rustle in the wind and the clouds pass overhead. Venti strums on the lyre for you, but what you don’t yet know is that the melody is a future ballad he will sing for you once he’s able to put his feelings for you into words. While your attention is focused on the clouds or his tune, Venti would turn his head to look at your serene face. He makes sure you aren’t paying attention to him because he doesn’t want you to see the longing and fondness in his eyes. Venti is so enamored with you that his own emotions overwhelm him until he succumbs to the urge to lean over and smooch your cheeks and forehead. His spontaneous affection surprises you, but you can’t help but giggle under his flurry of kisses. Venti smiles at having gotten you to laugh, but he also hopes you feel as loved as he wants you to be.

Whenever you and Venti are apart during the day and you feel a gust of wind blow past you, know that the gentle caress of the breeze against your face is Venti’s way of giving you the kisses he can’t give you in-person. You are the only person capable of tethering the bard’s roaming heart, and he will forever be grateful to have someone as wonderful as you return his feelings. You mean the world to him, and he will make sure you know it once he finally completes his love ballad for you.

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While Zhongli can say a lot about the history of a great many things, he prefers to convey his feelings in more subtle ways. He uses many metaphors to tell you that he loves you, but if you don’t quite understand what he means—that’s ok. You’ll know how he feels through his touches since they are more straightforward than his words.

Zhongli is fond of holding your hands in his and brushing his thumbs over the backs of them, sometimes tracing the pads over your fingers as well. He also likes to tease you a little by kissing the backs of your hands in a gentlemanly way because he knows the gesture makes you flustered. The mirth in Zhongli’s eyes and the amused smile on his lips give away that he takes great enjoyment out of making your heart skip a beat for him. He may be old, but he still has a hidden mischievous streak.

Before kissing you, Zhongli always gazes at you with a look that is uncharacteristic of his dignified and professional persona. His sharp eyes soften, revealing the utmost tender emotions that he harbors for you in his heart, and his lips pull up in a gentle smile. He truly loves you and he won’t shy away from letting you know that.

Zhongli likes to lightly brush the knuckle of his index finger along your cheek in a loving caress, tracing the contours of the face he adores so much. He’ll wrap his other arm around your waist, gently pulling you towards him to press you flush against his torso. He angles his head and leans in to press his lips against yours in a firm yet loving kiss. His hand would glide from your cheek to your hair, running his fingers through your locks and holding the back of your head to keep you close. Zhongli likes to take his time while kissing you. His kisses are never rushed—his lips press against yours firmly yet gently, melding against yours in a slow, loving caress. The feel and taste of your lips, the warmth of your breath, the sensation of your hands on him—he takes all of them in. Zhongli wants to appreciate the present moments he spends with you in his arms because he knows your relationship won’t last forever. You eventually grow old much sooner than he will, so he takes advantage of your time together while he still can.

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

Gorou would be very nervous to initiate kissing. He’ll want to, but he’s very unsure of how to ask for it since he lacks confidence. You could suggest kissing first to which he’d perk his ears and wag his tail, nervously agreeing with a light blush. However, if you don’t then after some time when Gorou feels like the moment is right, he will work up the courage to ask you if you wanted to move onto the next step of your relationship. His cheeks would be pink, and his ears would droop as his eyes look anywhere but you. Despite his nervousness, his words are heartfelt. He truly hopes you’ll agree. When you do, he’s overjoyed, and you’ll see his tail wag behind him rapidly. His happy smile truly is one of the most precious sights you’ve ever seen.

Gorou will take your hands in his and you’ll feel them trembling both from excitement and nerves, but Gorou will steel himself and persist. He’ll ask if you’re really sure about this. Even with your consent, he’ll still take it slow to give you time to back out in case you change your mind since he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

Once Gorou finally presses his lips to yours, you will have a very happy dog boy on your hands. Gorou won’t admit this, but he’s fantasized about what it would feel like to kiss you for a very long time, and the real thing simply didn’t compare to his imagination. His heart would race rapidly in his chest, but he’d also feel so warm and fuzzy inside, almost as if he could float away like a cloud. That’s how happy you make him feel. After you part from the chaste kiss, Gorou would look at you with the most lovestruck eyes. The kiss felt downright magical to him, and he swears you must have cast a spell on him because now he’s even more in love with you than he thought was possible. His tail will wag behind him, catching your attention. If Gorou sees you pay too much attention to it, he’ll grow flustered and apologize, but he’d be unable to stop his tail. He’s brimming with so much joy about having gotten this intimate with you that his body can’t contain it. Expect him to give you more kisses in the future, and perhaps even some possessive marks on the nape of your neck. The Watatsumi general can be surprisingly territorial.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #venti x reader #zhongli x reader #gorou x reader #How does one write Zhongli? He was quite a challenge for me #I'm not as happy with these but I don't want to fuss over them anymore

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itsatorchwoodthing · 7 months

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Jack, in Serenity: [singing “I’m Just Ken”]

Ianto: what is that?

Jack: a future traditional human ballad, you wouldnt understand it now

#torchwood #doctor who #jack harkness #captain jack harkness #mine #janto #torchwood serenity #barbie movie

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ch4singchase · 3 months

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The Ballad of Moths | LUKE CASTELLAN

Summary: Eurydice Gaumont receives gifts from her father and one of these proves invaluable as her journey intersects with fellow demigods.

Word count: 4.9K

Warnings: Mentions of blood and Injury, violence, grief, ophidiophobia (since the monster in this chapter is a giant snake), mentions of death, mild language

chapter one, chapter two | series masterlist

chapter 02: I Defend A Bunch Of Kids From A Giant Snake

The rhythmic tap of rain against my bus window played a lullaby, coaxing me into a swift slumber.

Abruptly, I was no longer confined to the bus; the rain had transformed into the hushed serenity of a forest. This was no typical ominous woods of a horror story; its allure lay in a distinct kind of beauty.

Drawing near a tree, my fingers traced the rough texture of its trunk, relishing the tactile sensation. The leaves gracefully danced, swaying in a tranquil wind, as if encouraging a shared nap. Smiling up at them, I entertained the whimsical idea that the tree and its surroundings comprehended my thoughts.

A soft flap of wings echoed behind me, and there it was—the moth that helped me understand where I should go earlier.

This was the same moth, its wings a rich black with subtle brown accents, patiently awaiting my presence in a circular dance.

"Hello, buddy," I greeted cautiously, extending my hand to see its reaction, "How's it going?"

Predictably, the moth remained silent. It alighted on my fingertip and then took flight, leading me along a specific path among the trees, unveiling a concealed trail through the forest. Glancing at the shadows that enveloped the moth's chosen route, a fleeting doubt crossed my mind—was it truly wise to follow?

Without dwelling on the question, I pursued the enigmatic guide, allowing instinct to override rational contemplation.

As I ventured deeper into the forest, the canopy above formed a protective shield against the sporadic drizzle that started. The moth continued its dance ahead, weaving through the foliage with an innate knowledge of the path, as if the trees themselves whispered directions to their winged companion.

Moss-covered rocks and the scent of damp earth under foot marked my journey. The woods seemed to respond to my presence, embracing me in a mysterious symphony of rustling leaves and distant calls of unseen creatures. Nature itself had become my guide, and the moth, my silent escort through this living tapestry.

The path curved, revealing a hidden glade bathed in ethereal moonlight. In the center stood a peculiar tree, its silver bark shimmering in the celestial glow. The moth settled on a branch, and as if on cue, the air became charged with an otherworldly energy.

I looked around, confused. The wind gently brazed my cheeks, guiding some leaves with it and revealing what was hiding in the glade until now.

Moths. A bunch of moths. All joining the one guiding me into a beautiful dance.

Perhaps, when I was younger, I would be frightened, but instead, I was just stunned by it. They were gracious and in an infinity of colors, painting the air like a vivid rainbow in the middle of the night. Even some fireflies had heard their excitement and joined the party, lightning the night in a blink of an eye.

“She’s here, she’s here, she’s finally going home!” They all seemed to whisper, even if I couldn’t understand what they meant by it.

Where was here? Were they following me? Were they the ones who sent the moth to help me?

There were too many questions and no answers.

“No, no,” they all repeated to what sounded like a response, “Our friend did.”

“Yeah yeah,” others agreed, circling around me as they did so, “Your father.”

For the first time since I had seen the moth from before, I ventured to speak up.

“My father?” It was just me repeating what they had just said but, still, it had taken me some type of courage to say so, “He’s dead, how is that possible?”

“Dead?” most of them laughed, as if I had told them a joke, “That’s not possible; he is a god.”

What?

“You heard us,” it seemed like I hadn’t only questioned it in my head, “You’re the daughter of a god.”

I stood frozen for a couple of seconds. A god…?

I recalled what the Cyclops had called me, a Half-Blood. Cyclopes, chimeras, half-blood, all of them were characters that my mother had once told me were tales. Stories in Ancient Greece, myths. Nothing more but stories.

But stories don’t simply come to life. They have to have always been there.

If they were talking about gods, they could only be the Greek ones, right? The Olympian ones and so on.

“How...” I tried to ask... Anything, honestly. But I didn’t even know where I could start; in the end, I was talking to moths, what was crazier than that?

“We can’t tell you everything,” some of the moths mumbled.

“Yeah yeah, he had told us just to help you find your way but we couldn’t stop ourselves,” others complained.

“Once we heard you were still alive, we were so excited,” the moths giggled, holding back screams of joy.

“Yeah, even if one of us ended up saying something about the titan, we wanted to risk a chance,” one in a million of their siblings said, and if almost every one of them were speaking at the same time, I heard it.

Every single one, but one brought my curiosity, “Titan?”

It was all I needed to ask before they went into a deep silence.

The moths hushed as my question lingered in the night air. Their whispering dance seemed to still, and the anticipation was palpable. Then, one moth separated itself from the swirling mass and approached me.

It wasn’t the same one I was already familiar with compared to the others, but its wings fluttered with a measured elegance.

“We should not say anything about it,” the moth said, “It’s just a rumor, a cruel one”

“But the prophecy?” one of the others questioned, daring the one that was speaking for them, “The prophecy says…”

Most of them hushed the little one, giving voice to the same one of before, “As I said, it’s just a rumor. Some things are better left unknown, life must unfold naturally..”

“You said about a prophecy,” I tried to reason with it, approaching the moth, “What prophecy?”

The moth shook its little head, “You must go now, Eurydice Gaumont”

“No” I persisted, stomping my feet into the ground.

But it didn’t matter what I wanted, slowly the scenario around me started to go blurry and slowly the sound of rain tapping returned.

I protested, but the scene blurred, and before waking, I heard the words, "In shadows deep, a reaper's kid must tread..."

Then, I was back on the bus again. Alone.

I looked around, trying to look for something. But despite the sleepy sleepers who snored near me, there was nothing new after the dream. It was still dark, the first sign of sun daring to peek out of their hidden spot.

Sighing, I looked at the sky, searching for an answer. At that point, I wouldn’t be surprised if the answer came in the form of a god of the sun trying to mime what I should do next. Or sing—I didn’t know much about Greek gods at that time, but I was almost sure that the god of the sun in the stories also sang.

What was that I had heard? A reaper’s kid, right?

Now, what did that mean?

Sighing once more at the dawn of that day, every time it looked like things were making sense, my life would get twisted.

A sound of wings caught my attention when I looked at the empty seat by my side. The moth from the convenience store and my dream was my company once more. If it had a face, it would look like regret or shame.

It flapped its wings, as if to call my attention again.

“I’m seeing you, stupid,” It flapped its wings one more time, perhaps it didn’t like being called stupid, “You didn’t talk like your siblings at that forest right, I don’t remember hearing you”

And I truly didn't. For some reason, I could recognize each moth that had talked in that clearing, but none of them was the one that had been with me since Springfield.

This time, the moth flapped its wings twice.

"Alright," I scoffed, contemplating the sanity of conversing with a moth. "Enough beating around the bush; what do you want to tell me?"

Rather than flapping, the moth took flight, turning beneath my seat. I didn’t know how to curse, but what I thought was similar to a ‘what the fuck?’

Leaning forward, I peered beneath my seat, expecting to find the bags from the convenience store��snacks, sweets, water, a flashlight, and some change. Yet, unlike what I remembered, there was also a backpack.

Which, by chance, was not mine.

It reminded me of the backpacks I had seen at the store or some of the other people on that bus wearing, but I didn't have enough money to buy even a fanny pack.

Puzzled, I picked up the backpack and examined it. It seemed lost, probably belonging to another passenger. To my surprise, my name was on a sticker affixed to it.

Was it truly mine?

I opened the backpack, looking for what could be inside.

If my expectations were set on receiving a cellphone, all-star shoes, additional snacks, clothing, or perhaps a map, I would find myself in a perpetual state of hope until the arrival of the non-existent date of February 31st. Alas, none of those anticipated items were to be found.

What I found was, in fact, a leather wristband with a snap button closure, adorned with small stones. Accompanying it were a couple of coins, featuring a peculiar carving that deviated from any standard penny. Doubtingly, I reached in, confirming the wristband, coins… Plus a map.

At least that.

Exhaling deeply, I hoped my godly father, wherever he was, could hear me. Was this his gift? A questionable assistance from a man presumed dead.

Truthfully, I anticipated something more beneficial for survival, perhaps a letter explaining his whereabouts and the ongoing events. It was the least he could offer after all these years.

My mother had portrayed him as a soldier with a calm heart, unwilling to return to duty but aware of their need for a reminder of peace. How every end no matter how it began, would meet peace. She would always remind me that he would be the one to go down in a nonviolent way, with his hand laying on his chest, above his heart.

Would. She never said he was. Because he was a god, a greek god.

Knowing I was aware of his divine status, he chose to bestow upon me strange money, a wristband, and a map. Well, the map, at least, seemed somewhat helpful.

I stowed away the bags containing my purchases from Springfield into the backpack, arranging the snacks and supplies meticulously to avoid any mishaps during my travels—whether it involved catching the next bus or evading a new monster.

The coins and map found their place inside the backpack as well. However, before I could tuck away the wristband, curiosity got the better of me. It was a finely crafted leather piece, elegant and delicate.

Examining it closely, I wondered if my father had crafted it himself. The mere thought tightened my heartstrings.

Looking at the inside of the wristband, I frowned when I found something carved into the leather. Something was written into another language.

I turned the wristband and looked at it closely, words were always hard to me so if I wanted to understand what it meant, I would have to take my time. If I intended to understand its meaning, patience would be crucial. Or so I thought.

As the letters began to weave into each other, a surprising clarity emerged. Instead of becoming a confusing jumble, they started to make sense.

Tenebris.

While it wasn't an exact match to what was written, it was undeniably the meaning it conveyed.

Latin, perhaps?

Gazing at the wristband once more, I opted not to return it to the backpack. Instead, I made the choice to wear it.

Perhaps my father had indeed crafted it. Wearing it became my silent expression of appreciation, a subtle invitation for him to emerge from his hidden shell.

Ultimately, it proved to be a beautiful wristband.

When I looked out the window again, the sun was already rising. We seemed to have arrived in New Haven, recognizable to me from a previous visit. It appeared we were near State St, very close to Yale.

There was a time when I thought I might study there, a distant dream from my younger self. Back then, despite never attending a real school, I held onto the possibility.

Revisiting the city at fourteen, a few years later, doubt crept in.

Knowing what I now knew, it wasn't hard to recognize that the odds were always against me. I never had the chance, not before, and certainly not now.

As soon as the bus stopped and the other passengers started to get off, I did the same. I picked up my backpack and put it on, following the others to the street, deciding to be the last one to get down.

For a moment, I waited a bit before finally getting off, looking inside the bus and waiting for the moth from earlier to appear and follow it. But, it didn't happen.

So, I went my way. If I remembered correctly, there shouldn't be another bus stop so far away, I could eat something on the way while I looked and hope my change would be enough for the next ticket. Or, hope they would accept my dad's weird coins.

As I strolled down the street, I seized the opportunity to approach strangers, concocting a flimsy tale about a new school on Long Island and my ailing parents unable to assist with transportation. However, as they began to provide directions, a sinking feeling crept in.

Clearly, I lacked the funds for the entire journey.

Faced with limited options, I considered potential avenues. One option involved seeking employment on the streets, donning a somber expression and appealing to tourists for financial assistance. Ironically, the more morally questionable choice proved to be the swifter means of acquiring funds.

Anyway, I tried to risk it, at least make it to the bus stop that supposedly was the cheapest one to my journey. Maybe, the driver could take some pity on me and take me to Pennsylvania. If not, I would have start to figure how to gain money for the whole trip, I wouldn’t dare to walk all the way to that fucking camp.

I walked, walked, walked and walked down State St. As I traversed the street, covering only a fraction of the distance, I encountered a Thai Restaurant. The sight of it made my stomach protest loudly; I hadn't eaten in a while, and the prolonged walking intensified my hunger.

However, there was no way I would eat in the middle of the street, under the scrutinizing gaze of strangers. That was out of the question.

Despite mustering all the courage, I hesitated to knock on the closed restaurant's door. Even if a waiter were to appear, what excuse could I possibly give for not wanting to dine outside?

So, I found an alternative. In less than a minute, I seated myself in an alley, extracting a snack from my backpack and indulging in it.

In fact, that was within question.

Ignoring the curious glances of passersby, I continued my impromptu meal. Candies followed, accompanied by sips of water. This brief moment of rest was crucial before resuming my walk under the scorching sun.

I just needed two minutes, or maybe ten… Honestly, a whole thirty minutes were enough for me to restore my energy.

As I rested, I took another look at the wristband I was wearing. The more attention I paid to it, the more I noticed a strange energy emanating from it. It was difficult to explain and even less tangible—an unknown aura surrounding something hidden inside the leather, beyond the engraved letters.

When I opened my mouth to express the feeling, the only thing that came to mind was the night of a day or two ago.

My mother was held in the air by the monster's hand, the only one watching her intensely and impatiently, while all she did instead of fighting was ask me to run. And run was what I did.

Until I heard her scream—a stunning, heart-wrenching scream that froze my feet in place, forcing me to witness her body flying to my side, blood overflowing from her mouth. Her torso seemed broken or twisted enough to inflict severe internal injuries.

Still, she had the strength to ask me to keep running. How could I? How could I run and leave her behind?

I couldn't do that. Instead, I stood beside her, ignoring the disturbing footsteps of the Cyclops approaching.

I held my mother's hands, hoping to somehow absorb her strength. Perhaps I did, for even though I didn't follow her request, it seemed to matter little to her. As if, in the end, she felt no pain.

Tears and sobs dampened my face, but I could swear she thanked me. Ridiculous, considering I should be thanking her for being an incredible mother, sacrificing everything for my safety. If only I had known sooner...

After that, everything was a blur, difficult to understand. Holding her hands, a strange sensation tingled down my spine, adrenaline coursing through my entire body. When I saw my mother attempting to say something but succumbing to exhaustion...

The Cyclops was already beside me, reaching to grab me.

Anything between that moment and the hospital was a haze. Fragments of memories. I recalled his hands trying to lift me off the ground, my palms facing his monstrously large fingers. Almost facing a 5-meter drop but feeling no pain.

When the ambulance arrived and I reached the hospital, attempting to explain what I had understood about the situation at the time, they were most surprised that I hadn't broken my legs or at least sprained an ankle. But I think my exhaustion and grief were enough for them to believe me.

I tightened my lips, holding back tears at the memory. What did my mother's death have to do with my father's gift?

Tenebris—was that really the only clue I had?

Gradually, a shift occurred in the air, and it didn't escape my notice.

Within moments, an unsettling realization dawned – something was amiss. The streets teemed with people running in the opposite direction of my intended path once I felt ready to resume my journey. Fear and confusion etched on their faces left me puzzled about the impending threat.

Swiftly, I rose, stowing away my belongings in my backpack and hoisting it onto my back. Approaching adults warned me of an out-of-control truck menacing pedestrians, urging me to find safety. Some chose the rational path, sprinting toward the police station for genuine assistance.

However, skepticism gnawed at me. It didn't ring true. Something felt off.

My eyes caught sight of the unfolding drama a few streets away, just beyond the dog park on the opposite side of my position.

Initially, I perceived three kids, one notably smaller than the others, sprinting from an unseen threat. The girl in black wielded a makeshift spear, while her companion brandished a golf club. How could such feeble weapons aid their escape from an out-of-control truck? Why weren't they going to a store or going to the sidewalk?

Then, I understood.

At first glance, the runaway vehicle resembled a refrigerated truck, careening down the road with a desperate screech. The driver, concealed behind black-tinted windows, eluded my view from this distance.

However, as I advanced, sidestepping the frantic adults, reality emerged.

It was no truck, but a snake. A giant fucking snake. There was no other way to describe it.

All the sense I was lacking suddenly decided to take control of my actions. My brain, which had previously been unable to muster the courage to stand at the door of a closed restaurant, had now regained enough courage to force my feet to run after that atrocity.

For no logical or plausible reason, from one moment to the next, my rationality was replaced by stupidity.

The monstrous serpent pursued the kids, including the one almost the same age I was when I met Viola. It seemed absurd to consider intervening, given the potential to continue on my way or capitalize on the disturbance to pilfer from unsuspecting pockets. Yet, I couldn't turn away.

Just as I couldn't flee when my mother's cries pierced the air or when she tried to wrench me from Viola's grasp as the Chimera's stinger pierced her chest in the past.

Perhaps it was stubbornness, authentic courage, or sheer impertinence.

It remained unclear where my resolve originated as the idea of confronting a giant snake pursuing a group of children took hold.

The snake, swift and destructive, both hindered the children and itself. Exploiting that and my familiarity with the streets and their shortcuts, I discerned an opportunity to intervene.

I ran like I had rarely ran before, until the tips of the toes hurt. My sneakers had already gone belly-up to that moment, after all the running I have being doing in the past months.

I walked around the streets, without for a second taking my eyes off the scales of that thing. Entering some alleys and following the murmurs and exclamations of the children as they tried to formulate a plan, even though they were at a disadvantage.

Swallowing hard, I took advantage of the shelter outside some buildings to avoid the fragments of asphalt, cement, poles and benches flying everywhere. Gradually but quickly managing to reach that monster.

But that didn't mean I didn’t continue to run, attempting to maintain a good and safe distance between the giant snake and the peculiar trio.

"Hey, girl!" the older girl from the trio shouted, attempting to grab my attention. "Get out of here, it's not safe!"

She wore dark clothes that complemented her short, black hair and extremely light blue eyes. In addition to the makeup on her face, which was almost gone, having been worn away by time for a long time.

It didn't take long to notice her limp, a testament to an injured foot sustained during the chase – or even before.

I just smiled, hiding behind some trash cans and away from the giant snake's senses, hoping it would continue to pay all its attention to that bunch of kids. Which, to be honest, weren't much younger than me, except for the little girl.

"No, you guys go," I shouted back, "Head into the park and blend in with the crowd there. It'll be hard for them to believe that a truck would actually enter a park."

At least, that's what I thought at the time. Nowadays, I know that mundanes would still believe in the idea of an out-of-control truck wreaking havoc, even within a park.

They didn't follow my advice; instead, they halted their escape.

“Aegis,” the girl from before exclaimed, and her bracelet transformed into an incredible shield. She shielded her friends, positioning the protective barrier in front of them, waiting to see my next move. The boy behind her appeared both confused and scared, alternating his gaze between me and his friend as if awaiting an order.

At this point, I was hoping for one too. I had no idea what to do, and I didn't even have a weapon.

However, the giant snake paid no heed. I could distinctly hear its slithering and the destruction of cars in its path. I refused to let fear or my earlier stupidity show on my face.

Instead, I glanced at my wrist, the leather band my father had given me. For a moment, I wished it were a weapon, similar to the girl's shield bracelet.

Despite having the slightest idea of how to handle a weapon, I hoped for anything that could help me assist those three.

Timing couldn't have been worse for it to resurface, but as I looked at a trash can in front of me, the usual moth landed patiently, as if awaiting something.

Perhaps it shared the girl's curiosity about what I would do.

Then, I remembered—the sound of rain yesterday morning, at the funeral, and even at night on the bus, a hostage to "what ifs" that could have transpired instead of my current reality. I remembered the blood, dark red staining my hands and clothes, and how cold it felt against my skin. I didn't care, holding my mother's hands with all my might.

Just like I tried to hold Viola that day, attempting unsuccessfully to move her body away from the Chimera's sting.

The giant snake drew closer, its slithering growing clearer by the second.

Glancing at my wristband again, the carved words caught my eye.

Out of the corner, I saw the snake's scales and its wild eyes. Emerging from my hiding place, a word escaped my mouth like a battle cry before I fully comprehended my own line of reasoning.

"Tenebris!"

A blinding light filled the air, halting the giant snake and diverting its attention towards me. I closed my eyes, feeling the wristband transform within seconds.

Suddenly, something weighed down in my hand, like the sheath of a sword. Its dark sheath matched my wristband's leather, and its slightly curved blade, made of an uncanny bronze material, felt strangely familiar. Bronze. The sword's blade was made of bronze.

As quickly as the light appeared, it dissipated, replaced by a cloud of darkness covering my ankles and part of the street and alley.

The trio gaped at the spectacle. The older girl struggled to maintain her defensive stance, her injured foot hindering her movements. The younger one's wide and curious eyes betrayed a mix of fear and fascination, while the boy among them clutched his golf club with a determined expression that hinted at a desire to help.

Without giving the serpent a chance to recover from the blinding light from before, I surged forward, the newfound sword in hand. The blade cut through the air with a metallic hum, and I slashed at the serpent's scaly underbelly.

It hissed in pain, recoiling momentarily.

In the end, the wristband was a useful gift. I had to remind myself, one day, to thank my dad.

Seizing the opportunity, I circled the serpent, keeping it off balance, continuing to slash its scaly skin. It tried to knock me down with a movement of its body, but before that could happen, I dodged it, cutting its scales once again. But this time I made a point of sticking my sword in, hoping to hit some organ of his, then pulling the sword out.

The boy with black hair, recognizing an opening, sprinted to the serpent's other side, wielding his golf club like a hero facing a dragon from the tales. His fearless determination served as a distraction, affording me yet another chance to strike.

The girl, despite her injury, bravely stood her ground, using her shield to protect us and the little girl. While, said little girl, spurred by a sudden burst of courage, found a dagger in her pocket and joined the fray.

The serpent, now enraged, lunged at us with deadly precision. The older girl skillfully deflected its strikes with her shield, while the boy continued to harass it from the side. The younger girl and I coordinated our attacks, aiming for vulnerable spots between the scales.

As the battle raged on, I felt a surge of adrenaline, my movements becoming more fluid and instinctive. My sword seemed to respond to my will, enhancing my speed and strength. Each strike resonated with power, and the serpent's resistance weakened.

Finally, with a resounding clash, I drove the sword into the serpent's forehead, or what looked like its forehead. The creature convulsed, its massive form thrashing before collapsing to the ground. The dark cloud dissipated, leaving only the echoes of the intense battle.

Breathing heavily, I turned to face the trio, equally exhausted.

They, too, looked weary, particularly the girl nursing an injured leg. Despite their fatigue, they regarded me with awe, as if I had materialized from the pages of a fantastical tale. Given the circumstances, I couldn't blame them.

I didn't blame them, I really had appeared out of nowhere.

"I'm Thalia," the older girl introduced herself, leaning against a wall as her shield reverted to a bracelet. "That's Annabeth," she pointed to the younger dark-skinned girl, now displaying a hint of shyness.

"And I'm Luke," the boy interjected, assisting his friend to stand while keeping a watchful eye on me, still processing the surreal reality of our shared encounter with the monstrous serpent.

"I'm Eurydice," I replied, glancing at my sword and back at them. "It seems like you needed a little help."

“We did,” Luke agreed, looking at me from head to toe, but keeping his eyes on mine while talking to me, “And I think we still do”

Shifting his attention to his injured friend, he examined her leg, revealing a severe wound beneath her baggy jeans. Thalia attempted to whisper something to Luke, diverting his hands away from the injury.

Feeling lost and searching for a solution, my eyes wandered, and I spotted a parked car on a nearby sidewalk—doors open and windows relatively intact. It seemed like an abandoned vehicle amidst the chaos.

"I can drive," I offered, drawing the trio's attention. "I just need to know where we should go and someone who knows how to start a car without a key."

Luke sighed, helping Thalia walk toward me, followed by Annabeth.

"Lucky for you, I know both," the grin he flashed at me while uttering those words hinted at one unmistakable thing: trouble.

#percy jackson fanfiction #pjo fanfic #pjo tv show #pjo series #dionysus pjo #chiron #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #clarisse la rue #thalia grace #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #female original character

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south-of-heaven · 8 months

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Poly! Judgement Day with a singer/piano player! reader?

Concert || The Judgement Day x Reader

Summary: You're a very good singer and piano player. Sometimes your partners beg you for a little home concert.

As the evening sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow through the windows, you find yourself seated at the piano in your cozy living room. The gentle hum of anticipation fills the air, and your partners – Finn, Damian, Rhea, and Dominik – are gathered around, their eyes fixed on you with eager smiles.

"Come on, love, give us a little concert," Finn urges playfully, his voice laced with excitement.

You grin at their enthusiasm, fingers poised over the keys. With a soft nod, you begin to play a simple melody, the notes cascading like a gentle stream. The room is soon filled with the soothing sounds of the piano, and you can't help but feel a sense of serenity wash over you.

As the music flows from your fingertips, your partners are completely captivated. Damian leans against the piano, his eyes fixed on your hands as they dance across the keys. Rhea rests her head against Dominik's shoulder, her gaze soft as she listens intently.

The melody transitions into a heartfelt ballad, and your voice joins in, filling the room with its rich timbre. Your partners exchange glances, clearly enchanted by the performance. The song's lyrics resonate deeply, and as your voice soars, you can feel the emotions pouring into each note.

Finn's eyes glisten as he watches you, his expression one of genuine adoration. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against yours, a silent connection formed through the music. Damian's smile is tender, his appreciation evident in the way he gazes at you. Rhea's hand finds Dominik's, and they share a knowing look that speaks volumes about the beauty of this moment.

The last note lingers in the air, gradually fading away. The room is filled with a reverent silence before applause erupts from your partners. Their smiles are bright, their faces lit up by the magic of your music.

"That was incredible," Rhea says, her voice soft yet filled with admiration.

"Truly," Damian adds, his eyes still fixed on you.

"You never cease to amaze us," Dominik chimes in, a fond smile on his lips.

Finn's applause is accompanied by a whistle, his enthusiasm infectious. "You've got such an amazing gift, love."

Blushing slightly at their praise, you take a moment to soak in their appreciation. The connection you share with them is deep and profound, and moments like these only strengthen it. With a grateful smile, you rise from the piano bench and join them, finding yourself surrounded by their warm embrace.

"Thank you," you murmur, your heart full.

Finn presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you. "Anytime you want to serenade us, just say the word."

Rhea chuckles, her fingers lacing with yours. "Definitely. We'll be your biggest fans."

Damian's gaze is unwavering as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. "Your music fills our lives with beauty."

Dominik completes the circle of love, his arms encircling all of you. "You're the melody to our harmony."

In this moment, surrounded by the ones you hold most dear, you realize how truly lucky you are. With their love and support, your music resonates even more deeply, creating a melody that binds you all together in a symphony of affection and devotion.

#wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #pro wrestling #wrestling #wwe #damian priest #damian priest x reader #damian x reader #rhea ripley x reader #rhea x reader #rhea ripley #finn balor x reader #finn balor #dominik mysterio x reader #dirty dom #dominik mysterio #the judgement day wwe #the judgement day x reader #the judgment day

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life-imitates-art-far-more · 5 months

Text

Thomas Crawford (1814-1857) "The Babes in the Wood" Marble Located in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York, United States The sculpture is was inspired by an old English ballad of the same title, which describes the abandonment and death of an orphaned boy and his younger sister. Clasped in each other’s arms on the floor of a forest, they pass serenely into eternal slumber—a state underscored by their tranquil features. The painstakingly carved leaves and acorns allude to the part of the story in which a robin covers the children with foliage as a substitute for a proper burial.

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fatuifucker · 1 year

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Scaramouche just caressing your face and running a hand through your hair as you sleep, the sound of your soft snores and slow breathing the only noise heard.

He admires you as if you’re the grandest thing he’s ever seen, which you are. Nothing in Teyvat could rival your splendor. You never fail to take his breath away, and you look so peaceful when you sleep.

He chuckles softly once he feels your legs wrap around his, snuggling closer to him. He presses soft kisses on the top of your head, just holding you gently as his eyelids start to droop.

I hope this little drabble helps you feel better! Sorry if this was a bit late D:

a/n: tysm for writing this! I sort of wrote something inspired by it but kitsune au bc it's my guilty pleasure :)

reader is gn!

@edenialucas, @fluffyganyu, @nejibot, @lovediluc, @yumixxn, @teallapril, @midnxght-sweet-time, @barbatosfavouritenun

A fox burdened by pain, hardened by anguish, a pitiful existence that has been incinerated to dust, leaving nothing but just the mere traces of what was once a dignified familiar, now just a hollow shell clinging onto whatever meaning they had left. Smiles — sincere, serene smiles — are a rarity even on your mystical features, even for your closest confidant to witness. There was a time long ago where he would slaughter any and all foes that dare lift a finger against you, deliver priceless treasures to your feet after treacherous journeys; anything and everything to see a genuine smile.

“Thank you, Kunikuzushi. I’m really happy.” You once said, examining the gem he gifted you with a blank expression. “I’m sorry, I can’t convey my gratitude to its full extent. But I really am happy for everything you’ve done. So you don’t need to do all this for my sake. I feel lighter just by being at your side.”

To what most would interpret as an insincere remark, he nodded with complete understanding. After all, he too is burdened by pain. How many blissful smiles did he wear in his lifetimes? How many blissful smiles did he wear in this lifetime? The number seems too insignificant to remember. Which is why he understands. Even if you aren’t able to give him a beaming smile, your gentle candescent light is more than enough.

Quiet snores fill the serene silence in the room as Scaramouche’s hand cards through your hair, occasionally brushing the back of his palm against your soft face and rubbing his thumb against the apples of your cheeks. He watches as your chest rises and falls, your ethereal face displaying a peaceful expression; as if all the misery in this world vanished to leave behind a perfect utopia behind your ears. You’re exquisite. Like perfection incarnate. If there was a God of Beauty in Teyvat, the divine title would have fallen onto you. A whine escapes your lips when he shifts his body. Lids still shut, your hands reach out to hold him while your legs wraps around his midriff.

“You’re so clingy.”

Although he forces an irate tone, a smile sneaks its way to the Balladeer’s lips. He returns your hold, cradling you like he would cradle the electro gnosis. The way he would cradle his heart. Piercing indigos soften at the sound of a giggle. Your tails swish behind you as you lean into the harbinger. They wrap around him like a sentient blanket, the fur tickling him a bit.

“Scara…”

For just a little longer, Scaramouche allows himself to admire the smile on you lips — a rare, genuine smile — before he follows you to the realm of unconsciousness.

Maybe in the morning, he’ll ask you what you dreamed about.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #kunikuzushi

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jgoddesstarot · 7 months

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Pick-A-Pile: What Type of Diva Are You? - Messages From Your Higher Self

👑Check out my masterlist to see all of my pick-a-card readings😊

✨ Visit my shops at Ko-fi.com or J.Goddess Tarot✨

🔮Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are based upon my intuitive interpretation of the cards and about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

🔮How I read: I use a mix of tarot cards, oracle cards, along with my intuitive abilities of claircognizance, clairaudience, and clairsentience.

🔮How this works: Close your eyes and take deep breaths, pick the pile you are most drawn to. If you aren’t drawn to any pile then that’s okay, these messages aren’t for you.

Pile 1

Tarot Cards: 3 of Pentacles, 5 of Cups, 4 of Pentacles, 9 of Swords, The Empress

Oracle Card: Mixed signals yield mixed results. Make sure you are clear about what you are attracting.

Hello, my dazzling Pile 1's! Prepare to be swept away as we unravel the facets of your captivating Diva persona.

Envision a mesmerizing conductor, not always in the spotlight, but the mastermind orchestrating the symphony of collaboration. With grace, you weave the talents of others into a harmonious dance, your leadership a subtle art form. Those around you feel the pull of your magnetic influence, guiding them toward shared triumphs, an unsung anthem of inspiration.

Yet, every diva has her ballads—melodies laced with moments of heartbreak and disappointment. But it's in these silhouettes of sorrow that your true essence emerges. You embrace your vulnerabilities, allowing them to sculpt you into an emblem of resilience, strength, and relentless growth. With every setback, you rise, creating anthems from your scars.

Grounded amidst the whirlwind of life's stage, your self-assured presence radiates a sense of security and unyielding principle. This deep-rooted confidence is your signature; a reminder that a diva knows her worth and gracefully sets her boundaries, unwavering in her convictions.

Behind the glitz and glam, however, lies a diva acquainted with the shadows of anxiety. It's not the presence of these fears that defines you, but the dance you perform with them. You waltz with your worries, turning daunting dreams into magnum opuses of hope and determination.

Amidst it all, you're an embodiment of nurturing abundance. Radiating a warmth that feels like a comforting embrace, your aura is a blend of kindness, allure, and undying love, leaving everyone captivated.

And a golden nugget of wisdom for you: Consistency in your signals will always craft the results you desire. In your captivating diva journey, let clarity in intentions be your guiding star.

To sum it up, dear Pile 1's, you are an intricate tapestry of leadership, resilience, mindfulness, determination, and boundless love. Embrace these colors, let them shine brilliantly, and continue to magnetize the universe's finest towards you."

Pile 2

Tarot Cards: Ace of Cups, 9 of Cups, Knight of Wands, Judgement, The Tower

Oracle Card: The power you seek is within your hands, soul, and mind. Use it and watch what you create!

Ah, my alluring Pile 2's! Your diva essence is an enigma—a tantalizing dance of raw power interwoven with tender vulnerability, a harmonious blend of fiery passion and serene calm. Shall we journey deeper into this maze of your allure?

Firstly, imagine a boundless reservoir of love and empathy. You, dear Pile 2's, are a beacon of this affection. Your spirit envelops everyone with such depth and warmth that it's impossible not to bask in your nurturing embrace. As if this isn't enchanting enough, you also effervesce a contagious positivity, drawing to yourself waves of contentment and gratitude. With every step, you magnetize joy and fulfillment, becoming a beacon of desire fulfilled.

Yet, there's an electric spark to you—a vivacity that's impossible to cage. An adventurer at heart, you blaze trails with zeal, captivating audiences with your dynamic flair. When the spotlight shines, you don't shy away; you seize it, becoming its undeniable star.

But here’s where the plot intensifies. Your diva soul thrives on transformation, constantly shedding layers, evolving like a phoenix. With every twist of fate, you embrace the chaos, knowing it's a prelude to rebirth. While many flee from storms, you dance in the rain, understanding that true brilliance emerges only when tested.

A whisper of wisdom for you: The universe reminds you of the formidable power coursing through your veins, ready to shape destinies. This strength, a blend of your heart, spirit, and intellect, is your magic wand. Wave it, and witness wonders unfold.

To wrap our tale, magnificent Pile 2's, you're a mosaic of profound emotions, boundless zeal, unyielding resilience, and the magic of transformation. You don’t merely face challenges; you evolve through them, emerging brighter, bolder. Wear these facets proudly, and continue to radiate positivity and fulfillment, drawing to you the treasures of life."

Pile 3

Tarot Cards: 7 of Cups (in reverse) Strength, 10 of Pentacles, King of Cups, 8 of Pentacles

Oracle Card: Patience is needed at this time. Stop trying to rush everything. We have everything under control.

Ah, my radiant Pile 3's! As we delve deeper into the ethereal whispers from your Higher Self, prepare to uncover the mesmerizing tapestry of your inner diva.

Envision a dazzling diva with a razor-sharp clarity of purpose. Not one to be entranced by mirages, you navigate the labyrinth of life with a defined vision. Illusions may try to entice, but your discerning eyes are set on the horizon, turning lofty dreams into tangible triumphs.

But what truly defines you is an unmatched reservoir of inner tenacity juxtaposed with tender warmth. Much like a fierce lioness guarding her pride, your heart beats with courage yet knows the gentle rhythm of compassion. With every step, you strike a mesmerizing balance of strength and love, making you a diva of unparalleled substance.

As we journey further, your love for life's opulence emerges, not just its glitter but its gold. While you savor life's luxuries, your feet are firmly rooted in cherished traditions and deep-seated values. Your emotional reservoir overflows with wisdom, allowing you to channel your feelings with prowess, wielding them as tools of empowerment.

In your quest for greatness, it's not just about sparkling on stage. Behind the curtains, your dedication paints a story of unwavering commitment and relentless pursuit. Every bead of sweat, every hour spent perfecting your craft, echoes your belief in the enchantment of diligence and perseverance.

A whisper from the cosmos gently nudges: While ambition fuels your spirit, patience will be your guiding star. For in the vast cosmos of destiny, every star has its moment to shine the brightest.

In essence, spectacular Pile 3's, you are a diva sculpted with clear purpose, heartwarming grace, enduring values, and enduring patience. Through life's marathon, wear your diva crown with pride, savoring each step. The spotlight awaits, and when it shines on you, you'll be nothing short of breathtaking."

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#j goddess tarot #jgoddess tarot #paid readings available through link in my bio #i offer paid readings #bipoc tarot reader #tarot community #tarot reading #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot pick a card #pick a card reading #intuitive tarot reader #messages from higher self #beyonce diva #diva pick a card reading #what type of diva are you #messages from your higher self

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shadowbriar · 9 months

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Regulus Black, Remus Lupin - The Star to Your Moon

Pairing : Regulus Black x (she/her) Reader x Remus Lupin Word Count : 1.3k Warning : An epilogue of a series I'm trying to craft. Synopsis : As their ship begins to sink, she wonders if she could love the moon as much as she loves the star. Notes : Post no 7 for my Year Anniversary Celebration. If you'd like to be tagged for the next chapters, please fill the form here! If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ Taglist: @jsjcue @coffeehurricanes @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kaz-mf-brekker @sofiacblair @when-you-cant-think-of-anything @ineedmentalhelp123

The wind was blowing gently, making the grass and flowers around them dance softly to nature’s ballad. The sun was kind today. Its warmth showering them without burning their irises when they look up to the sky. Birds sing along as they fly, becoming the background singers for their beautiful setting. This picnic was perfect.

Regulus has his head resting on her lap. His eyes were closed, darkness getting lighter whenever the sunlight hits his closed eyelids but it was nothing of displeasure. He listens to the quietness and bustling sound of his surroundings attentively. He missed such serenity.

“You’ve been more quiet lately,” She notes, her fingers playing with the curls of his hair “A sickle for your thought?”

Regulus let out a soft sigh. His eyes were still closed, trying to hold on to the moment as long as he could. He loves the serene atmosphere that she always brought him. How he could hear all the noise dampen whenever he sees her or how the world seems to be at pause whenever their skin touches. Regulus prays that he could find a spell or incantation to stop time altogether. Especially since a certain threat is looming around, menacing to rob him of such luxury.

“You know you can talk to me about anything.” She continues gently.

“I know,” He replies, eyes fluttering to see her “But sometimes I only want to listen to you. Not just your words, but your laughter, your breathing, everything. I want to record it all in my head.”

She smiles, leaning to kiss his forehead, “What a sappy little man you are, Regulus Black.”

“Only for you.”

Indeed, only for her.

Nothing could have prepared him when the universe let his eyes catch her years ago at Kings Cross Station. He had always thought himself undeserving of love, too distant and fractured to ever be touched by such kindness, yet he was proven wrong the moment she greets him. He knew that he was bound for life with her. That he’s willingly given up his heart to her palms, not caring if she would take it and hold it gently or stomp it to the ground. All he knew was that he was hers from day one.

“I learned something over the break.” Regulus says excitedly as he sits up, picking the little daisies around them and meddling with it.

“What are you doing?” She asks with an amused laughter, resting her chin to his shoulder.

She watches him with a grin. His fingers were busy folding and twisting the stem of the small flowers, still in complete silence. His brows were furrowed, complete determination to finish the task he’s trying to do at the moment. After a few minutes a small ring of flowers was made. His proud smile decorated his face as he brought it up for her to see.

“May I?” He asks.

She nods, giving him her right hand.

Regulus slipped the ring on her ring finger. It was slightly too big but the happy smile on her face overthrew every insecurity he had about the crooked ring. He looks back to her finger, kissing the back of her hand as if he's trying to seal something.

“I now pronounce you, Husband and Wife,” She jokes “You may kiss the Bride.”

He chuckles, placing his right hand to cup her cheeks, his left still holding her hand, “You’re silly.”

“Only for you.” She returned his words “Now are you going to kiss the Bride, or—,”

Her words we cut as he leans in. They both were smiling in between each peck. Silent ‘I love you’s’ exchanged from the tender gesture. Their heart was filled with love, head blissful in ecstasy, completely unaware of the darkness brewing around them.

—-

The first day back to Hogwarts has been brilliant so far. Ending the day with her prefect duty, she recalls the delightful moment spent with her lover earlier. The pieces of flowers she tucked on his hair, the flower ring he gave that now sits on her bedside table, the memory of his loving gaze, everything was so perfect.

It would be an understatement to say that she loves him. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do, nothing she wouldn’t sacrifice whenever Regulus is in the equation. He is her anchor, her star, her everything. There would be no her if there was no Regulus.

Her walk was coming to a halt as she noticed the commotion happening a few metres in front of her. It was dark, the limited light her wand gave did not do much to help her assess the matter happening but she recognises the man standing closest to her. His back was facing her, acting as if he was on guard to watch whatever mischief his friends were doing.

“Lupin,” She calls, amused.

She could hear the faint ruckus happening behind the pillar a few metres behind him. She could recognise whose voice one of them belongs to. It’s not practically hard to decipher who’s responsible behind such tumult when it comes to Lupin.

“Hello, there.” Remus greets as he turns to face her, suppressing his stunned expression with a smile “Nice patrol so far?”

“You could say that,” She replies. Her hands are now folded to her chest, still smiling. She turns to the suspicious pillar, calling them out “I know you’re there, Sirius. Supposed Potter and Pettigrew are with you too, hm?”

Silence.

“Come on, you can come out.” She says again “Don’t make me go there and hex you three.”

Sirius walks out the pillar sheepishly. He opens his arm wide, looking as if he was delighted to see her, “Darling, hello! What a pleasant surprise!”

James and Peter follow behind him. The two of them waved and smiled at her awkwardly.

She averts her gaze back to Remus, her brows raised, “You’re not really condoning them for their mischief now, are you Lupin? That wouldn’t be a good look for a prefect, would it?”

“Oh no, I wasn’t.” Remus denies, shoving his arms into his pockets “I don’t even know these kids. Never seen them my entire life.”

She bites down a smile. The gentle gaze Remus has was hypnotising. That kind smile and soft tone he offered were making her feel safe. They haven’t truly been friends. The most interaction they’ve done would be passing by each other during their night watches, just like the situation unravelling at the moment, minus the three rascals behind him, of course.

“Give us some lenient, would you, Love?” Sirius begs “This would be the first and last encounter of us, I promise.”

She squints her eyes, pretending to take her time to make a decision. She knew for certain that this wouldn’t be the last time she would catch them red handed. Giving them a pass now would only make her one of their future accomplice but she was in a good mood today. One pass shouldn’t hurt.

“One time,” She says firmly, her finger pointing at Sirius before turning back to Remus “And you’ll continue my patrol for the rest of the castle, Lupin.”

“Deal,” Remus grins, offering his hand “And please, call me Remus.”

She takes his hand, smiling at his kind gesture.

With one last warning look at Sirius, she turns her heel and walks away. The light of her wand was getting fainter with each step she took and Remus knew he shouldn’t have had his eyes glued on her for too long, but there was just something about her he couldn’t shake off. The way her eyes sparkle and how she seems to be collected at all times. Calm and firm but still kind and understanding at the same time. Something Remus always admires in someone.

At least, that’s the excuse he’s giving to himself.

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x oc #regulus black x y/n #regulus black angst #regulus black fluff #regulus black oneshot #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x oc #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin oneshot

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belaephemeral · 1 year

Text

of flesh and bone, thunder and lightning

Pairings: Wanderer x Reader (gender-neutral)

This oneshot will refer to Wanderer as “Scaramouche”. Feel free to replace this with the name you chose for him as you read!

Summary: Every gesture, touch and action that you share with him is something that you will always treasure. From the way his eyes securely lock onto yours, like two puzzle pieces falling into place, to the fingers that interlock with yours, like threads of an interwoven tapestry of adoration that perfectly weave together; it simply just isn’t enough. But what you always desire for are the kisses that are oh so characteristically him. You yearn for the invigorating way it nourishes and rejuvenates the ardour that blooms in your heart whenever he conveys his endearment through a loving and intimate embrace.

Word count: 3000

Author’s Note: Happy belated White Day everyone! (I meant to post this earlier but I had a presentation and a mock exam. Sorry for the wait!)

(PS: I named Wanderer “sayang” [“love/darling” in Bahasa Malaysia] because I couldn’t think of a name that would fully reflect his personality and what he means to me. I will always refer to him as “Scaramouche” so, I gave him a cute pet name! Though I was extremely compelled to call him baby girl. Haha, let me know what you named him!)

From the moment of his conception into that hollow, artificial shell to his current incarnation as the enigmatic, wandering wayfarer, the former renowned Balladeer isn’t well versed in the language of intimacy. In fact, he is rather perplexed with your inherent fluency in it.

One evening, he found you peering over his shoulder as the clouds soared overhead and the ink of nightfall spilled onto the expanse of sky that hung over your forms. “What do you want from me?” he inquires brusquely, inexperienced with the notion of being inextricably tethered to someone. A connection forged by the countless moments you have shared together, the numerous battlefields you have both emerged victorious and triumphant from as you stood over the bodies of your enemies, and the several occasions he’s learnt that he could tolerate your presence and the serene silences that envelop you both after a tiresome day. “Do enlighten me as to what you are thinking - though I can’t guarantee I’ll retain interest in this conversation if you simply wanted to engage in small talk.” As expected. There’s that honest and straightforward reaction that you’re well acquainted with and a familiar demonstration of his infamously sharp tongue and blunt remarks.

Absent-mindedly, you gingerly draw the pressed hems of his white collar closer to the centre of his chest, your hands slowly reaching towards the various embellishments that adorn his body and minutely adjusting them to their rightful place. Scaramouche notices the way your brows knit together, as though you were slightly vexed by the mild breeze prior that put them into a state of disarray and disturbed them from the rich cobalt and baby blue fabric that they were fastened to.

Inquisitively, his orbs observe your movements, waiting for your next words. He waits with the patience you would never have been able to rouse within him when you initially met. Gradually, your eyes meet his, and you struggle to conceal the beam that threatens to spill onto your face. The expectant look that glazes his features and the way your hands smooth out the folds of his signature attire reminds you of your various encounters with the felines you’ve run into throughout your journey. Resisting the urge to ruffle his hair just as you did with the inky-black shorthair you met a few hours ago, you tilt your head up to peer into his dark pools of purple and whisper, just loud enough for him to catch your words amongst the whistle of the wind and the howl of the approaching night: “The sun is setting; shall we retire for the night?”

Scaramouche isn’t used to physical displays of affection: your touch makes him flinch momentarily, but his muscles relax as your presence permeates into him and your delectable scent renders him defenceless. Simultaneously, his thoughts are occupied at the irony of how you intend to maintain his aesthetic integrity despite the grime and dust that speckles his pristine ivory outfit and the minuscule crimson cuts peppered onto his smooth and unblemished pale skin.

Continuing your tentative ministrations, you gaze into his dark indigo orbs, which are flecked with specks of aquamarine and royal blue - you gaze into them as though you’re searching both for an answer and searching for a glimpse into what could possibly run through that inquisitive and yet tranquil mind of his.

Abruptly, his head snaps away from yours, the ornaments adorning his body twinkling as he does so. He exhales, releasing a sound that, to an ordinary passerby, verges a fine line between mutual amiability and absolute contempt. In reality, he uses the derisive scoff that escapes him to try and conceal the flush that creeps along the apples of his cheeks and flourishes to the tips of his ears. Slowly, he closes one eye and snidely peeks at your form with a timbre full of mirth and he softly purrs: “Hmm? What, you can’t fall asleep with me around? And here I was - assuming you had something important to tell me. Well, despite expecting more, I guess it can’t be helped.” A glint of playfulness flashes onto his crystalline orbs. Candour laces every sentence that leaves his mouth but his words betray the way he unconsciously beckons you ever closer to him to witness the stars string themselves into constellations before your very eyes.

“Well, if it is ever anything about you, it most certainly is important to me.” The former Fatui Harbinger isn’t as sly as he thinks he is - your perceptive gaze catches traces of the pink that dusts his bewitching visage and the slightest dilation of his obsidian pupils. After he finally unravelled the persona he had skillfully hid underneath his artificial facade, you revel in the way your closeness flusters him and you relish in the way you are the only person he’d traverse these lands with to find his true identity and meaning in his newfound life.

“It’s astonishing how you can utter that without an ounce of shame. I guess it’s by your nature - fortunately your fighting capabilities and, well, decent appearance compensate for your rather brazen personality.”

With an astounded gasp, you lightly swat his shoulder, earning the faintest snigger from the male. Eyes glinting with mischief and a subtle smile curled with mirth, he observes you once again chuckling exasperatedly at his antics. “Well, excuse me for caring about you - aren’t you freezing in that outfit? At this rate, you might catch a cold.” As the moon rises, the temperature slowly depletes. The chill of the wind bites into your skin but Scaramouche seems unfazed by it - he, in fact, basks in the gusts that periodically billow by. His brows are no longer furrowed and his jaw unclenches, content with the way the breeze tousles his deep purple tresses and causes stray strands of hair flutter against his face.

Gently, you slink your arms around his shoulders, your fingers drawing nonsensical shapes on the nape of his neck. “I need to have my sparring partner in tip-top shape. Nursing you back to health is not something I want to add to my itinerary - you should be well-aware that my schedule is completely full.” You add haughtily, his teasing remarks spurring you to counter his verbal advance with a challenge of your own. “And I’ll have you know that in the time it will take for you to recover, my combat proficiency will certainly surpass yours in no time. If that’s the case, then I assume that you want to lose to me again?”

“Why you-” his head dives forward as he launches an attack on your jugular. “Rest assured, I do not have a delicate constitution, unlike those other ordinary mortals.” As he buries his nose into your collarbone and his digits trace your ribs and waist, you convulse with laughter as his touch dances against sensitive parts of your upper torso. Your hands attempt to resist his ministrations, but his physical strength overpowers you, not that you were putting much of a fight in the first place, and you’re stupefied by the teeth that unexpectedly graze your clavicle and leave the affected area tingling with electricity. Audaciously nipping your neck as you titter, he softly murmurs against your skin: “I’ll let you stew in your victory for today, koibito, but I’ll have you know that I do not intend on losing - must I remind you of who remains the reigning champion in all of our duels?”

Averting your head away from his firm grip, you blow a raspberry, sneering smugly at him: “Sure, call it whatever you want Scaramouche - construe the indisputable fact that my talents and ability outclass yours, which obviously excels way beyond your current capabilities, into whatever palatable narrative that will satiate you. Just accept your defeat already.”

His eyes catch yours and one of the corners of his mouth lifts upwards, just enough for you to notice the glint of his boyish fangs. “Oh, koibito, you’ll renounce those words once I conquer you on the battlefield tomorrow. I’ll remind you of the sweet taste of my overwhelming prowess.”

His intoxicating presence infiltrates your senses like a potent toxin: he renders you defenceless to his reticent whims. From prior fleeting meetings and brief acquaintanceship that solidifies into something more, it is in moments like these, you can feel the pulsing and robust bond that has bound you two together - a bond you nor he could sever without incapacitating the other that has been irrevocably tied to this everlasting string that connects your beings.

Swiftly slicing into the universe that has formed between you and him, a drop of rain splatters onto the plane of grass that lays beneath your feet. A few droplets multiply into a light drizzle, which then gradually lead to a downpour that descends relentlessly onto your figures.

Yelping as a cold stream of water cascades down your back, you instinctively pull Scaramouche closer to your form. Reaching your hand above your head, you promptly draw one end of his hat downwards in a futile attempt to shield both you and him from the torrential rain. Over the thundering pitter-patter descending above you, you make out an exasperated yell erupt from the form within your grasp: “Seriously, you’re using my hat as an umbrella?! The audacity!”

“Stop moving your mouth and start moving those legs! Let’s hurry to the house before we’re both soaked through!”

Briskly, your hand wraps around his lithe waist whilst the other clasps his nimble wrist. You pull him firmly towards the quaint cottage that Granny Ruoxin kindly let the two of you reside in after taking care of throng of Treasure Hoarders and stray agents of the Fatui who sought to disturb the peaceful village.

As the rain pelts down onto the vibrant expanse of orange and yellow fields, Scaramouche stumbles and teeters as he loses his footing. The dirt dampens with the downpour and the muddy surface threatens to pull him down as his ukon-geta sinks into the moist soil underneath his figure. Noticing his struggle, you whisk him into your arms. Hoisting his frame closer to your chest, you support his waist in one hand, tucking his form closer to your bosom as his legs are securely lifted up with your other hand.

Scaramouche’s features contort into one of shock but he is unable to fully explore his sudden astonishment as your ministrations cause him to desperately cling onto your shoulders to avoid falling down. Incredulously, he shouts: “A little warning would have been nice!” Closing his lids, to calm his thundering heartbeat and to allay the sudden spur of bewilderment, he hollers: “Is this really necessary? You shouldn’t fret over me in such a situation - put me down and take care of yourself first.”

Fidgeting in your hold, he ruffles like an agitated and displeased feline, clawing his way out of your secure embrace. For once, it isn’t because your actions have aroused that inherent feeling of vexation or irritation that wells in his being. For once, (even if these are things he’s thought about countless times, but he internally, indignantly and stubbornly refuses to accept this) he’s concerned about the hefty burden carrying him places on your form, already weary with the elemental reactions inflicted onto you and the countless swords and weapons you had to defend yourself and him against. For once, he’s afraid you’ll become ill with every transparent drop of water that descends onto your exquisite profile. For once, he’s at a conflict between relishing in how your arms sturdily and firmly grip his form with the same overwhelming strength and power he’s witnessed in innumerable battles, and reprimanding your foolish selflessness that blinds you from the danger of trekking through the vast plains of terrace fields and hills that await you on your journey to the quaint village.

“Pipe down, Scaramouche, do you honestly think that I would let you walk in this storm with sandals like that?” Glancing at the clogs that limply hang from his feet, he grimaces at the soil that cakes the dark wooden soles and he’s starkly reminded of the pain that shot up the length of his calf when he stumbled moments ago.

“Hmm? Cat got your tongue? If so, hold on tightly, ohimesama, let me take care of you now.” It’s astounding that even here, you’d snarkily tease him so. It’s astonishing that even now, you don’t seize your romantic advancements - not as you briskly send a cheeky wink and gallantly march towards the cozy cottage that awaits the two of you. Heavy rainfall splatters relentlessly onto your visage, which seems even more breathtaking as the water highlights your charming features. (Not that he’d actually vocalise these thoughts - maybe it’s because of his pride or because he’s afraid of inflating your ego any more than it already is. Perhaps it’s because he trips over the words he wishes to tell you, your beauty petrifying him so much so that he feels vulnerable in a way he’s never experienced before and flustered that he lacks the same amount of experience you hold in amorous endeavours.)

After being well-acquainted with your headstrong, albeit also quite frustratingly stubborn and obstinate, nature, he surrenders to your whims. The only thing he can do is to securely loop his arms around your neck and, begrudgingly, use his hat to provide some way of deflecting the incessant downpour. He flushes at the way you reflexively move your head closer to his, your damp strands tickling his jaw. Instinctively, you nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck, tucking yourself into him to cover what little could fit underneath his headwear.

It certainly will be a long journey back to Qingce Village, he muses, gazing beyond the tempestuous storm and the clouds brewing with strobes of lightning. The tenacious glint never leaves your captivating optics even as you inhale and exhale shakily whilst climbing the rolling hills and undulating pathways to your desired destination. Even as your chest heaves under his weight and tracks of rainwater stream down the curve of your cheek, the edge of your chin and the hollow of your neck, your hold is unfailingly firm under his lithe thighs and the broad column of his back and shoulders.

He’ll have to reward you for your efforts later - such chivalrous acts deserve commendation - something that even he is aware of. He acutely recalls how much you you yearn for his recognition - albeit not explicitly, he knows how voicing your merits inextricably affects you. Who is he to deny you your well-earned praise? Who is he to not demonstrate his utmost gratitude of your efforts? He’ll certainly show you his appreciation - he just hopes you’ll be able to bear the gravity of his newfound passion - a sudden onslaught of fervent ardour that consumes him wholly. It would be an expression you would have never expected from him but like your proficiency in wielding the elements, you’ll diligently endure him. After all, that’s what is expected of the partner of the former renowned Balladeer. And he knows you definitely won’t disappoint.

_____

Scaramouche isn’t one for showing his admiration outright - especially not in broad daylight and exposed to the judgemental scrutiny of outsiders who have no right to learn of his ardent affinity for you. He absolutely abhors the idea of anyone seeing how your actions make him putty in your hands. He detests the thought of anyone seeing how a heart manifests in his artificial rib cage, rattling against wire and alive and beating within that hollow shell of his puppet body.

Under the private gaze of the moon and your eyes only, away from the daunting, captious view of the outside world, he unravels himself to you. His touch is inexperienced, but as his reincarnation’s name suggests, he craves discovery and desires exploration.

Like electricity, his lips leave supple trails of kisses along your jugular - his actions igniting sparks in their wake and making your skin tingle with a numbing and thrilling static that persists even as he draws himself away from you. Despite the stringent, blunt and yet considerate facade he performs in-front of others, you can taste the lingering remnants of his territorial, cunning and dominant persona through the way he smirks against the expanse of your clavicle, and writes his name with the purple and light red flowers that begin to blossom on your torso. You’re submerged in the palpitating sensation he sends throughout your body, conducting a current of his fervent ardour to every area of your pliant and yielding form. It spreads through the vast network of veins and blood vessels that come to life with every caress of his hands. It jumpstarts an uproar of passion that had once lay dormant deep within the core of your being for so long, awakened by the energy he fuels into you with every movement of his deft digits and the ravenous purple orbs that bore into yours.

Eagerly and rapaciously, he consumes the sounds that escape your mouth, punctuated by the roaring strikes of thunder that briefly illuminate your entwined figures resting on your shared double bed and guided by the sustained metronome of the rain that continues to fall outside and casts shadows along the mahogany floors of the cottage. Selfishly, he drinks you in like you’re the only entity that will satiate this vehement desire - like you’re the only person to satisfy this intense hunger that ravishes his entire being. He delights in the way you squirm underneath his form, desperate to chase him, to hold him accountable for the pulsating ache he triggered into every single inch of skin, flesh and bone within your body, to ensure he’s responsible for the searing libido that courses through every fibre of your being.

Even within the haze of frantic, erratic movements and desperate, yearning caresses, he realises that in this moment, you never fail to make him feel like he belongs. Your presence provokes him to feel like he was always destined to be engulfed wholly by your tender embrace. Like he was preordained to be irrevocably tethered to your celestial presence, like he was fated to be loved by you. To return your fervent reassurances that ensure he is more than an just the discarded puppet he was born as, and the comfort you provide by will-fully devoting yourself to guiding him to the future that he deserves, he’ll drown you in his affections.

Ever chasing the next thrill, the next competition, he’ll see how long you can withstand before he completely overwhelms you.

After all, he’s grateful for everything you’ve done for him. This is just one of many ways for him to show his appreciation.

#genshin impact #Genshin #genshin impact scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin scaramouche #genshin wanderer #wanderer #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer fluff #wanderer x you #scaramouche fluff #gi scaramouche #gi wanderer #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact x reader #a bit spicy at the end whoops

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taelqn · 24 days

Text

JULIUS NOVACHRONO WITH A S/O WHO’S A SINGER…

SFW + GN READER + HEADCANONS

★ Imagine thinking your most devoted fan was the one who religiously attends every concert, splurges on your merchandise, and proudly wears your name like a badge of honor. But surprise, surprise – the throne of ultimate fan has been usurped by none other than Julius! Yes, that's right, Julius has emerged from the shadows to claim the title of your biggest fan. With unwavering dedication and a fervent passion for your work, Julius has taken the crown!

★ On concert days, he skillfully dodges paperwork and Marx with the finesse of a seasoned dodger evading a plague. Your performance becomes his singular focus, eclipsing all else in importance. No task or obligation can sway him from his mission to be there, front and center, for every note you deliver. Despite the inevitable scolding from Marx for his persistent distractions, he remains unfazed, for in his eyes, every moment spent basking in your music is a treasure worth any reprimand.

★ Despite Marx's best efforts to beg for concert postponements on quieter days or shield Julius from concert announcements to prioritize his paperwork, fate always seems to intervene…

★ Amidst pouring your heart into your song's lyrics the next day, your gaze inadvertently landed on a familiar blonde amidst the crowd. It was evident that word had once again reached Julius about your ongoing concert. The situation struck you as amusing, considering the parallel fanbases surrounding both of you – your admirers drawn to your singing, and his supporters enamored by the Wizard King himself. You felt a little bad for letting Marx down, but at least you got to spend a little time with Julius that day—even if you were physically far apart from him at the moment.

★ Despite Julius's solemn vow to adopt a different guise to avoid inadvertently stealing the spotlight from you, he finds himself unable to resist the magnetic pull of your performances. Though his intentions are pure and he never seeks to overshadow you intentionally, his overwhelming excitement to witness your talent firsthand often leads him to forget his disguise altogether. It's not a deliberate act of defiance, but rather a testament to the sheer joy and enthusiasm that your concerts evoke within him.

★ Regardless of your music genre—be it pop, country, rock, electronic, classical, jazz, heavy metal, folk, or indie rock—one thing remains constant: Julius will always be your unwavering hype man. His passion is limitless, cutting over musical tastes and genres to provide unwavering encouragement and praise for your musical talents.

★ From upbeat pop anthems to soulful ballads and everything in between, Julius stands ready to amplify your performance with his infectious energy and unwavering devotion. Whether you're belting out powerful rock vocals or serenading the crowd with tender classical melodies, Julius's presence ensures that your stage is never lacking in fervent encouragement and unbridled enthusiasm.

★ Julius finds consolation in the tones of your voice after long, exhausting days. These peaceful times with you are the most precious thing to Julius, whether it's a relatively small private performance or an unplanned serenade under the stars. His spirit is renewed by the captivating tunes that only you can provide, providing him with a break from the stresses of leadership among such calm. He is carried away to a land of unmatched tranquility as your voice surrounds him, where the problems of the day evaporate and are replaced with an intense sensation of joy and peace.

★ When it comes to private performances, you frequently find yourself serenading Julius in the serene areas of the Clover Kingdom palace or in the solitude of his office. Your performances, whether they're vibrant or a sentimental melody, never fail to enthrall him. He lets himself be totally engrossed in the tune as he listens closely, occasionally closing his eyes. And 99% of the time, your singing causes him to become sidetracked from his duties, which prompts Marx to chastise him once more.

★ Your relationship with Julius inspires a symphony of love songs. When you write songs about your love for him, you put every little thing into them, and Julius treasures each word as if it were a priceless gift. Every now and then, he shocks you by quoting your own lyrics, a silent reminder of the deep bond you have.

★ Julius occasionally participates in your songwriting sessions since he enjoys hearing about your creative process. You and Julius collaborate to come up with song ideas and lyrics. You both draw inspiration from your experiences and travels to create tunes that touch people's hearts. Because of this, you’ve learned so many interesting stories from Julius, reminding you that he’s literally the Wizard King—of course he has a bunch of stories to tell.

★ He’s most definitely asked you to sing him Twinkle Twinke Little Star once. And you did. He probably fell asleep to it too.

★ You once jokingly told him that you and him should be a duo and sing together, just to see what he’d say. He found your comment endearing and charming. He gave you a gentle smile with a twinkle in his eye. “A duo, you say? That sounds like an intriguing proposition. Though I must admit, my talents lie more in the realm of magic than melody. However, the idea of sharing the stage with you does sound enticing." His last sentence made your heart flutter. A part of you now wondered if he could sing, and if so, would he be willing to do a duet with you?

★ If you were to compile everysingle praise bestowed upon you by each of your devoted fans, the sum total would still pale in comparison to the endless stream of praises showered upon you by Julius alone. His unwavering adoration knows no bounds, and he never tires of expressing his admiration for your talent. To Julius, your voice is a divine symphony that deserves recognition on a global scale. If given the opportunity, he would gladly spend every waking moment extolling your virtues, for in his eyes, your singing is nothing short of perfection incarnate.

★ And so, with a heart full of love and excitement, Julius eagerly awaits the next opportunity to revel in the magic of your music.

I have SFW alphabet for Dante next but I hate him. But I love him too. But I still kinda hate him. Maybe I’ll do Lucius with a singer reader next who knows.

#black clover #black clover anime #black clover manga #blackclover #bc #black clover x reader #black clover x y/n #juliusnovachrono #julius novachrono x reader #julius novachrono #black clover headcanons

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