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#the only person that adores him is also his own shadows

raine-soft · 3 days

Text

Konig kidnapper and Ghost accomplice.

Warning: Kidnapping, tell me if I missed anything.

The abandoned warehouse was shrouded in oppressive darkness, interrupted only by the flickering light of an old lantern hanging from the ceiling. In the center of the room, y/n lay tied to a chair, her eyes full of confusion and fear as she looked at Konig, whose figure was silhouetted ominously against the shadows.

Konig, with his usual air of authority and confidence, approached y/n with sure steps, his gaze fixed on his prey with a mixture of obsession and adoration. “Finally, you are here, my dear y/n,” Konig murmured with a smile that sent shivers down y/n’s spine. "You have been the light in my life since I met you, and now you will be mine forever."

Y/n's eyes widened at Konig's words, trying to understand the surreal situation she found herself in. Before she could utter a word, Konig placed a soft but firm hand on y/n's cheek, caressing it with a tenderness that contrasted brutally with the violence-filled atmosphere.

“Everything in me belongs to you, y/n,” Konig continued, his voice echoing in the silence of the warehouse. "I will protect you from everything and everyone, because you are my reason for existing."

Meanwhile, in the shadows, Ghost watched the scene with a mix of worry and confusion. He had followed Konig to the warehouse after discovering his dark plan, but seeing the way his friend interacted with y/n, something inside him began to change.

"Konig, this isn't right," Ghost interjected, his voice heavy with anguish. "You must free y/n. This is not love, it is obsession."

Konig turned to Ghost with a piercing gaze, his eyes shining with determination. "You don't understand, Ghost. y/n means everything to me. I won't let anything or anyone separate us."

As time passed, Ghost continued to observe the dynamic between Konig and y/n. Although he had initially planned to rescue y/n and take her away from Konig, he found himself increasingly attracted to y/n's sweetness and innocence, which seemed to stand out even more in the midst of the darkness.

The relationship between Konig, Ghost and y/n became more and more complex. Konig, obsessed but also deeply in love, was overprotective of y/n with a ferocity that often bordered on the dangerous. Ghost, for his part, was torn between his loyalty to his friend and his growing feelings towards y/n, whose presence had filled a void in his life that he didn't even know existed.

Over the course of the days and nights in the warehouse, the dynamic between the three of them became more intense. Konig, increasingly consumed by his obsession and his need to protect y/n, found an unexpected ally in Ghost, someone who understood and shared his feelings towards the same person.

The situation reached a fever pitch when y/n, in an act of bravery and determination, confronted Konig and Ghost about the complexity of her feelings. “I’m not an object you can share or protect at will,” y/n exclaimed, her eyes filled with determination. "I am a person with my own desires and choices."

Y/n's words echoed through the air of the warehouse, her voice filled with determination and bravery as she confronted Konig and Ghost about the complexity of her feelings and actions. However, instead of receiving understanding or redemption, y/n was greeted with icy silence from Konig and a somber look from Ghost.

“How dare you talk like that, y/n?” Konig exclaimed, his voice filled with suppressed anger. "I brought you here to protect you, to love you, and this is what you get in return. You don't understand what I do for you."

Ghost remained silent, but his look was a mix of pain and disappointment. He had found a light in y/n in the midst of the darkness, but now he was faced with the reality of his actions and the complexity of his feelings.

Before y/n could respond, Konig stepped forward determinedly, his face masked by a harsh expression. “You must learn your place, y/n,” Konig said, his words heavy with menace. "I will not allow you to challenge my authority or my feelings. From now on, you will follow my rules without questioning them."

Konig's commanding tone and the implicit threat in his words left y/n breathless, feeling the weight of her vulnerable position in the hands of someone obsessed with controlling every aspect of her life. Ghost, for his part, remained silent, his gaze sad but resigned to the situation.

From that day on, the dynamic between Konig, Ghost and y/n became more tense and controlling. Konig exercised his authority with a firm hand, imposing strict rules and watching y/n's every move. Ghost, while sharing Konig's concern for y/n, felt increasingly caught between his loyalty to his friend and his own confused feelings.

The abandoned warehouse became a scene of oppression and conflict, where love was intertwined with control and obsession.

Over time, y/n resigned herself to her situation, adapting to the rules imposed by Konig and trying to find small moments of calm and comfort in the midst of oppression. Although the desire to escape still burned within him, the opportunities were few and the risks too high.

#tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere male #yancore #yandere #yandere x darling #obsessive love #yandere könig x reader #yande.re #yandere konig #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #ghost yandere

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star-centric · 5 months

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Could you pretty please do some “how they would try to court you” (not in a ABO way, but in a Devildom dating culture way), headcanons / scenarios with Mammon, Beel, and Diavolo?

PAIRINGS: Mammon, Diavolo & Beel x reader (all separate)

NOTE: Let me say this- I love love LOVE requests like these!!! Any time I can write about stuff like this it makes me kick my feet and giggle. Also sorry this is so late- life is a hectic atm 🫠

CW: gender neutral reader, mentions of possessiveness, minor suggestive themes (mainly in Diavolo’s part)

How They Would Try to Court You (feat. Mammon, Beelzebub and Diavolo) (Headcanons)

MAMMON

Mammon’s a lot like his crow familiars- especially when it comes to courting. Combine that with his sin of greed and you’re in for a time!

He’s greedy, so it only makes sense that he wants all of the time. Whether it’s just laying around in your room or even just walking to class, he’s right by your side. People are starting to get used to see him literally everywhere you go. He might as well be perched on your shoulder like your own personal crow

You start to find little trinkets left for you- courtesy of Mammon. Those pairs of earrings you were eyeing at the boutique? You found them on your pillow when you got back from class. The cute pin you says reminds you of him? It's already in your locker. The items are usually something small, but still meaningful to you

Nests!! When you see a cozy bundle of blankets and pillows in both of your rooms, and how Mammon is very adamant (ie. very nervous of your approval) that you have to lay it, you feel like he have no choice but to get in it. It's so comfortable that when he sees you instantly relax he can't help but let his chest puff out in pride (and he may have let out a coo or two when he saw how peacefully you were sleeping)

Speaking of cooing- he’s humming around you too now. It's cute actually, and it makes him blush whenever you comment on it (he even does it without realizing it sometimes, which makes it even more adorable). You start to catch it when you praise him for something, but he starts doing it even more outside of it. He tries to play dumb about it, but he's really happy (and relieved) that you love how his voice sounds (it's what he was hoping for)

He starts to flash show his demon form to you more. It stemmed from your praise at his photo shoot, and ever since then he's been stretching his wings around you. Graze your fingers across them and Mammon would be putty in your hands

Mammon has always been selfish, especially when it comes to you. It’s obvious what he’s trying to do, but you’re still a bit surprised when he gets serious about it. The nights where he asks you not to leave, where he tightens his grip around you and buries his face into your neck, he means it

He wants to prove to you that he’s the only one you need, that you don’t need any other demon but him

BEELZEBUB

Beel’s courting style is simple, yet effective!

Despite it being a while since Beel felt this much of a pull towards someone like this, he really does try his best

He makes sure you’re well fed and never hungry- he knows how he can get on an empty stomach, plus he has to make sure you’re taken care of! It starts to become a very common sight to see Beel feeding some of his food to you, which leaves the others shocked, but he’s unfazed by it. They’ll even catch you bringing you food to share and not the other way around they’re used to

Beel is also like Mammon in a way- always by your side. Whether he’s just stuffing his face or observing something else, he’s right behind you like a second shadow. You didn’t realize how intimidating it was until you started to wonder why so many people started to steer clear of you- literally

(It wasn’t on purpose but Beel wasn’t complaining)

He also starts to work out around you more. You’ve always been amazed at his muscles, awed at how he lifts hundreds of pounds with ease. He’s never been one too full of pride, but the sensation bubbling inside of his chest made him want to show you more. His regular workouts, his fangol games, practice- he wanted you there for it all

Beel can’t explain it, but putting his strength on display for you feeds into a growing urge that’s hard to suppress. He wants to show you how strong he is, how easily he can protect you if something were to arise. The fanged grin on his face when he sees you cheering for him leaves him motivated to do even more

Sometimes he’ll slip into his demon form because of how excited he gets seeing you (which in turn makes his opponents/teammates nervous)

Soft bites- it happened by mistake the first time. Beel accidentally bit your finger while you were trying to feed him. He didn’t break any skin or hurt you, but when you bit him (playfully) in return something…changed inside of him after that. He wanted to do it more- leave your skin littered with marks done by him. And he wants to feel your own blunt teeth bite into him (even if you don’t leave a mark). It’s become a cute memory and another inside joke between you both

(Even if it makes him want to go feral everytime he sees your bite marks)

Beel also scents you! He has the strongest sense of smell in the house (and probably one of the strongest in the entire Devildom), so being able to leave his scent on you isn’t a problem. Lending you his clothes (which the sight of you with them does something to him too), wrapping you in his own blankets while burying his face into your neck- you don’t know why he’s been so cuddly lately but you’re not complaining (and neither is he)

Beel isn’t much of the possessive type, but he’s not willing to share you with any other demon outside of his family. Even then, his primal urge is somewhat satiated knowing that he’s left his mark(s) on you for others to see- and plans on leaving more to show that you’re his

DIAVOLO

The Future King of the Devildom has been lonely for some time now- so forgive him if he goes a bit…overboard in his methods

Remember how he was when you ate the pudding humans weren't allowed to eat? Imagine that type of behavior but with no restrictions

Expect to be adorned in the finest jewelry/outfits you could get in all of the Devildom. It gets to a point where you’re wearing literal millions- all he does is laugh at your shocked expression and waves off your worries. It’s not like he can’t afford it- plus he wants to see you in it all! (and show you how easy he can provide for you)

He’s a lot more bolder than he usually is during this time too (not that he wasn’t bold to begin with). He’s…just not holding back anymore

He’s more open with his touch, his hands finding his way to you a lot more common now. Whether it's out in public or behind closed doors, Diavolo can't seem to keep his hands to himself. The looks you get from people when you're out together make you a little embarrassed, but he holds his head up high anyway (which you're not surprised- he is the ruler still, not like they can say much anyway)

But Diavolo doesn't mind the looks- he wants them actually. He wants people to see you with him, to know that you're with him and that nothing is going to change that. That you're his and his alone. A part of him is tempted to keep you locked inside for his eyes only, but he knows that it wouldn't be right to do that to you

But he does invite you over to the castle more, which somewhat helps his urges. You’re waited on hand and foot by Diavolo, who doesn’t mind at all- he sent Barbatos away on “important tasks” (ie. give him alone time with you). It’s adorable how earnest he is in taking care of you, even if it’s something minimal as holding the door for you or feeding you himself

He’s in his demon form too, and thrives off of your attention- to see how you admire him makes his chest swell with pride. You’re in awe at his form (which makes sense since it’s a rare sight to see), and he loves it. He craves it. He encourages you to touch his wings and have your fingers graze his horns- just be careful not to tug on them too hard, unless you want to really get him riled up more than he is now

Diavolo is also like Beel in wanting to see his marks and scent left on your skin. He shows restraint, and it’s only ever done in spots he can see (mostly). There may be a dark splotch or two on your neck from when he got carried away (or when he wanted to show others that you already belong to someone)

Diavolo really hasn’t felt like this over anyone in years- Hell, probably in his entire life. He really has become enamored with you during your time in the Devildom that he can’t imagine loving someone else. You truly have made his life brighter with your presence

He understands that you can’t stay here forever, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t become mates regardless, right? Or rather, who’s going to stop him?

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justporo · 8 months

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More fluffy relationship headcanons for Astarion and Tav

Thinking about my Tav and Astarion keeps filling my head with ideas and small moments I think they might share. So have some more? (Also let me know if you want spicy ones... because ofc I have many of those as well...) Please be aware I haven't finished playing and might stray from canon events from the ending. So have more headcanons and ideas for Astarion and my Tav.

HUGS! Gods, all of them. Once this man starts he never stops. He espcially has found that he likes hugs from behind. When he's behind you just putting his arms around you, pulling you to his chest, putting his head on yours or on your shoulder - also allows him to nibble on your pointy ear or press kisses to your neck or... you know.

But he also likes when you hug him from behind and press your face against his back. You letting your hands wander, but "uh uh, keep it above the waistline in public, you naughty little thing"

Tav - before she might try something like that - ALWAYS making sure he's fine with touching and especially displays of affection in public; Tav makes him promise ("cross your undead heart!") to immediately stop and call her out if she ever oversteps a boundary or if he feels just a tad uncomfortable because setting these boundaries in the first place is still hard

But he loves public displays of affection (and even sometimes being a little naughty, making people around the both of you flustered); he's still a hedonist after all and now he can really live it on his own accord

He especially can't get enough of you not being able to keep your hands off him; knowing you love and adore him boosts his goddamn ego to newly known heights

But he's also focused on making sure people know you are taken, so he can be a little bit possessive to mark his territory; especially if someone trying to hit on you doesn't get the memo that you are not interested and that that's a very jealous vampire standing behind you

Ah jealousy - you've talked about this: Astarion may be open to you having other complimentary arrangements but seeing just the shadow of a doubt in his eyes this is SO off the table; also you are pretty sure you couldn't handle your jealousy - so a definite no for the both of you (absolutely no shade here for anyone imagining poly-relationships or such with Astarion but that's the way I imagine it for him and my Tav)

Romantically there is no need to clarify for each of you: for him there is only you and for you there is only Astarion

So that means: you both can get really quite jealous but you also like taking the piss out of each other; also he's flirty by nature and you might've taken on a bit of his personality in this regard, this all making for a very... interesting mix

Huh, this is already longer than I thought and each point could've easily become much longer... But oi, I have to get other stuff done as well.

Have my Tav and Astarion kssing as a bonus (still makes me giggle and twirl my hair everytime - I'm so lost...)

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lovelybluebirdie · 4 months

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Blood whispers

Astarion x gn!Reader

Summary: On the night you almost killed him, Astarion promised to help you overcome your urges. When they suddenly threaten to overwhelm you again, he needs to take care of you.

Word Count: 2,8k

no warnings, hurt/comfort, fluff

AO3

Travelling across the shadow-cursed lands had provided Astarion some valuable knowledge. Not only had he learned the meanings of the scars on his back, it was also revealed that the scheme behind the tadpole in his brain was far greater than he had initially anticipated.

These discoveries alone should have been enough to keep him adequately occupied, yet there had been another novelty: for the first time in his life he had developed genuine affection for someone. Namely for you, the softhearted adventurer with an undeniable saviour-complex. You had filled his chest with an unfamiliar warmth and therefore led him to great confusion - at least until his constant brooding had left the inevitable conclusion that you meant far more to him than a solely guarantee for his safety.

His plan with you had been calculated to serve his own needs. He needed protection, so he had aimed to lure you into a selfish alliance by gaining your trust and using his charm to get you on his side.

As it turned out, this simple little plan of his had fallen apart rather quickly: not only had he come to truly care about you, he had also openly admitted these feelings to you. To his surprise, you had shared that you felt the same.

Even though Astarion wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing with you half the time or where all of this was leading - being with you was astonishingly nice.

From the moment Astarion had told you about his failed plan, you had decided to be with each other without sleeping together. For the past centuries, sex had been merely a tool for him to collect victims for his former master, so it still brought up feelings of loath and disgust.

With you, he experienced that there was more to intimacy than sex.

At first, the thought of forming a sincere connection had terrified him. What was he to do with you, and how could he be close to you in a real way - in a way that mattered?

But somehow, you made it easy for him.

You had been considerate not to overwhelm him with your affection. It had been small steps: a single grasp for his hand, some soft kisses in the safety of your blanket or a heartfelt embrace in between all the fights and mischief that paved the way along your journey to free yourself from the tadpoles.

Sometimes you would read to him, his head resting comfortably in your lap, while your fingers formed circles through his curls. He adored the feeling of your body close against his back, leaving the sensation of your warm hands on his chest the last thing he would remember before he would fall into his nightly trance.

You made him feel safe, and he found himself positively enjoying your time together.

Of course there had also been that other night.

That night, when the fear over losing you to your darkness had scared Astarion more than any torture his former master could have ever inflicted on him.

You had woken him with a vigorous shake, eyes wide open and sheer panic in your voice. “We don’t have much time,” you would say, almost swallowing your tongue. “I’m going to kill the person I care about most – and it is you.”

Flattery aside, the threat of being murdered by his lover posed a fairly unpleasant way to be brought from his rest, so Astarion was forced to act fast.

You had spent the night with your wrists tied up while he watched over you, ensuring that you faced no harm. On the next morning you were yourself again, but the whole ordeal had left its mark on both of you.

And that was another thing about you: despite being the kindest person Astarion had ever met, you were also the only one that was cursed to unwillingly bring a great deal of murder and despair into this world.

Those violent urges would occasionally infest your mind with a strong yearn to kill and destroy. Gruesome thoughts, suddenly engulfing you with malicious intent - their origin unknown to you. When you resisted them, they would usually fade as quickly as they came, leaving you with a throbbing headache.

One might say that those were not exactly the best circumstances for a blossoming relationship, but Astarion was not particularly impressed by such assumptions. In fact, he had learnt that there was a certain comfort in sharing the burden of internal turmoil. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he had found himself drawn to you from the moment you had met.

Besides, Astarion was confident that you would find a way to rid yourself from these aggravating compulsions for good. After all, he had promised you on that fateful night - and even if he might exaggerate at times, he had meant every single word.

A light breeze rustled through the trees and brought him back from his thoughts. He sat next to his tent with a book in his hands and relished the last beams the sun would offer that day. The warmth was pleasant on his skin, especially after the long march that was behind him.

You and the rest of your companions had left the shadowlands a few days ago and were now heading towards Baldur’s Gate. After hiking through dense forests and small villages, you had decided it was time to make camp and continue your travels after dawn.

It was unusually quiet today. Perhaps the others were taking some time for themselves as well, he thought. You would probably gather around the fire later this evening, sharing some tales over a bottle of wine or discussing the next steps lying ahead of you.

Astarion let his gaze wander, back from the other tents to a more secluded spot, where he found you. You were sitting in the grass, holding one arm out in front of you with a loaf of bread beside your feet. A small bird with bright orange feathers was fluttering excitedly around you. It seemed like you were about to toss it some crumbs, and it was impatiently waiting to get its beak full.

Astarion rolled his eyes. Typical. You would probably even share your food with some random animal if it meant starving yourself.

Then again, it was also kind of adorable, he thought as his lips inevitably turned into a grin.

As he continued to watch you from afar, he realised that something was off about you. You weren't moving at all.

That was odd.

Your arm looked too stiff, slightly cramped even, and as he squinted his eyes to get a better look, he could see that your hand was clenched into a fist. It was as if you were forcing yourself to hold the position.

Astarion’s senses immediately sharpened.

He got up with haste, carelessly tossing his book aside and lunged towards you while calling out your name.

This was bad.

Uneasiness spread over his body like a rash, before he could even pinpoint what was going on with you.

“My love, are you al-” The sentence stuck in his throat as he finally came to see you up close.

Your mouth was twitching, contorting your soft features into a grotesque grimace. You looked nothing like your usual self.

Astarion had seen this expression on you before.

His thoughts started to race, as he prepared himself to force you to the ground if necessary. He had no rope on him to restrain you, but in lack of a better solution his laces would have to do.

In any case, he would not let that thing take control over you.

He reached for your shoulder, bracing himself for the worst - but before he could grab you, your features already started to relax.

You must have snapped out of it. This was you again.

You let your stiffened arm hang down and opened your fist, spilling the remaining crumbs on the floor. Instead of picking them up, the bird hastily flew away. Even the creature must have sensed that something was off.

Astarion let himself sink next to you in the grass and sighed. The danger had passed, it had not taken you.

“I wanted to feed it, I swear,” you explained between quivering lips. “But - my wretched brain almost made me kill this poor little thing.” Your hands were trembling, a deep misery resonating within your words.

A thick lump formed in Astarion’s throat as he noticed tears started to glisten in your eyes.

“I know, my love,” he said and rested his hand on your shoulder. “But remember, this isn’t you. And you brought the bird no harm.”

You swallowed hard and fixated him with your gaze.

“Yes, this time. But what if I couldn’t have stopped myself? What if I would have killed it - just like that, without any other reason than my sick thoughts ordering me to?”

“Well, in that case…, “ Astarion replied and tapped his chin, “I assume Gale would have served you some poultry tonight. And I would’ve been glad to depend on blood for a chance, since you’d probably have to fight over that unfortunate little thing. I mean you have to admit, to fill the stomachs of our dear friends you should have aimed for something more substantial to mangle.”

Astarion was no fool. This wasn’t just about you hypothetically killing that bird. Your urges evidently didn’t spare other living beings as well - including himself. This was serious, and yet he felt the need to cheer you up over some silly remark, as you would often find solace in your shared banter. While it was certainly not his best attempt to brighten the mood, it was an attempt nonetheless.

To his satisfaction, you huffed a quick chuckle that finally caused the tears in your eyes to spill over.

“You’re pretty macabre, you know that?” you scolded and slightly shook your head.

“Am I now? Darling, I’m hurt,” he exclaimed in exaggerated dismay, before a genuine fondness took over his voice. “But honestly, I’m truly proud of you. I can only imagine the force that overwhelms you in those moments, and yet… You’ve proven more than once that you’re stronger than this.” He let his fingers gently brush over the wetness covering your cheeks.

The gravity of the situation appeared to reclaim you with pressing weight, wiping off the faint smile at his clumsy attempt. You turned your head away from him.

“Astarion… I understand if you would hate me for this.” It was no more than a mumble coming from you, but enough to take Astarion aback.

He gave his answer fast, almost instinctive.

“No, I could never hate you.”

It was true. That he could never, not when there was so much about you to love. But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to say this out loud to you, not yet at least.

Instead, a tight knot formed in his chest, as he watched your eyes focusing the space between your feet while you let out a quiet sob.

“My love, look at me.” He spoke softly as he reached out for you. With the utmost tenderness, he cupped your face in his hands and made your eyes meet his. “The other night, when you almost drenched my curls in a veil of the beautiful red of my blood, I made you a promise. You remember, don’t you?”

You nodded with your face still resting between his slender hands, as another quiet sob spilled from your lips.

“Good. And I mean it still. We will get you through whatever the hells this is. We are in this together.”

His voice trembled despite the honesty that fueled his words. Astarion had no intention to abandon you, the same way you had sworn to help him with his own demons. But this was not about him, this was about you.

You shifted a little closer and wrapped your arms around him - tentatively, almost hesitant at first, until you drew him into a tight embrace.

Your body was warm and pleasant against his, and he would let you hold him - not only because you needed this, but because he wanted to.

“It's okay my sweet, I’ve got you,” he whispered while he cradled you in his arms and let his lips graze against your temple.

Your fingers clutched the collar of his shirt while he breathed words of comfort over the sobs that escaped your throat.

For now, there was no need for anything else, only him holding you while you cried.

Had he not already sworn to rid you of this affliction, he would tell you over and over again like a broken record, until he made sure that every inch of your body was certain about it.

Eventually you would clear your throat and look up to him. Your face was still wet from your tears, but there was also a glimmer of hope to be found.

“Thank you. For believing in the good in me, I mean. Despite all of this.”

“Well, who else would I believe in if not my brave little fool over here?” Astarion said and put a quick kiss to your hair. “Besides, I have no intention of dying again, so ridding yourself from this murderous condition might align with that rather splendidly.”

Your lips curled to a smile, only to be immediately disrupted by a pained groan that left your mouth and made you wince in Astarion’s arms.

“How bad is it?” he asked with concern as he glanced at you.

Another wince. “Honestly? Like my skull was split open with an axe,” you replied with a sharp exhale. “But it’s not the worst I ever had. I’m sure it’ll pass any minute.”

You pushed your fingers to your eyes and stretched your neck upwards, causing Astarion to doubt your words.

He knew that those headaches came with your affliction. Sometimes they would dissolve rather quickly, other times they got so worse that you had to lie down and he would fetch you a cloth drenched in the coldest water he could gather.

The urgent need to comfort you rose in him again, so he put his hands on your face and slowly pulled you towards him until he could feel your breath on his skin. Then he carefully rested his brow against yours.

That was the best he could think of for now. He closed his eyes and felt your familiar warmth spreading onto him, hoping that he would spend you some soothing coldness.

You remained like this for a moment, the only sound coming from your steady breath.

Astarion eventually lifted his brow and placed the softest kiss on its former place, right where he assumed your pain was sitting. With his hands, he reached for the back of your neck, giving it a gentle massage.

Your eyes remained closed while you let out a silent moan. You seemed to relax from his touch, the dampness on your skin bathing your handsome features in a light shimmer.

There was this sensation again, something Astarion only had with you. A prickling flutter, spreading from his chest all over his body.

What had you done to him that made him so blissfully light and at the same time would completely sweep him off his feet? Had his heart still pumped blood, Astarion was sure it would beat up to his neck right now.

“Gods, you’re beautiful.” His adoration made him almost stumble over his words, but he needed you to hear them.

Then he kissed the tip of your nose, before his lips would finally find yours. You tasted soft and sweet, making him longing to have more of you. Heat rose to his ears as his tongue gently curled around yours, while your hand stroked through his hair, pulling him closer to you. He couldn’t stop his lips from forming a loving smile over your pleasant warmth, before they met yours again for another tender kiss. There was no tadpole, no Cazador, nor the darkness in you. This moment belonged to you and him alone - and every touch was right.

He finished your kiss with another quick peck to your forehead and cleared his throat. “I do rather like that, you know.”

“That’s pretty convenient,” you whispered with fondness in your eyes, “because I think that actually helped. My head feels light again.”

“I'm glad,” Astarion murmured with relief. “Is there anything else you need? Just tell me, and I’ll get it for you.”

“For now, all I need is your presence,” you replied before resting your hand on his cheek. “Knowing that you'll stay with me.”

“Of course, my love,” Astarion assured as he graciously sunk against your palm. “You’re not alone in this, you have me. And I’m not going anywhere.”

And it was true. It was a promise, after all.

Masterlist

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puppetmaster13u · 11 days

Note

The Au is Ra has been using the Lazarus pits for so long that causes him to see Danny like a human or his normal Phantom form Ra the only one that sees Danny like that

I love the idea of Deadly Decision getting together but Ra has no idea that Danny is no human he just thinks that Danny has his own Lazarus pit hidden somewhere away from him

Like Danny is full blown glowing white hair, green eyes, Sharp Fangs, an electrical being

Ra point at tall being of Life And Death it looks like he's about to rip you apart: This Is My Wife Danny.

Like sometimes people just ask him if he sees anything unhumanly about Danny and

Ra is like: What Are You Talking About ?

Danny's in the background forming Stars into his hand I'm trying to make himself a new sword

Talia and Dusan we're raised by Danny and Ra they just gotten used to also considering getting to be a normal human they find it hilarious to play along with their other two siblings Dan and Danielle that Mom is human

Slade: I've been meaning to ask what about that monster Ra has locked up back there

Talia: You Mean Mother

Slade: that's your mother I didn't know Ra al Ghul was attracted to on human beings

Dusan: what do you mean unhumanly our mother is perfectly normal he's not even assassin

Danielle walking out of his shadow: Maybe Your Mother Was The Weird One

Dan floating near Talia: Get the hell out how dare you disrespect our Mama

All of them are girlboss, gatekeep, and gaslight people into believe Danny is normal

Damien will give warning that his grandmother does not look like a Human they were all expecting meta not electric being

Danny got so used to Ra al Ghul no his Husban treating him like a normal person when he's like this that he forgot that everyone might not that treat him like that

Honestly? I love this.

And you know what? Danny might need someone like that, who even as his humanity slips away still treats him as human, as not an eldritch creature of Space, of everything Between. Someone who treats him as well, him. Is his and Ras relationship healthy? Well maybe not in human terms, but do either of them count as such anymore?

The idea of the kids playing along is also amazing lol. Especially that Jordan and Ellie? Definitely same hat as Danny. Sure their forms still look sort of human, but that just makes it very uncanny valley. So others and siblings who treat them the same? They need it just as much- if nothing else than to not become so arrogant and uncaring of humanity that they could watch the world end without a blink.

Which, Damian! I bet Danny absolutely adores the grandbaby. I bet he crafts little ice bats and miniature planets to swirl above his crib. I bet he has a literal strip of space and stars on his ceiling. And Damian isn't the only grandbaby too- Dusan has a daughter in some timelines too. Not to mention Ras' adoptive daughter Nyssa, who he gave one of the Lazarus Pits to.

But speaking of Damian, I have to know what that would mean for Jason. Who was practically completely braindead before being thrown into the Pit. Who would have probably met Danny while there because I can't see Danny not also gently doting on another grandson.

Gosh I honestly am just really enjoying this whole thing lol.

#ask answered #deadly decisions #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompts #Not Ghost King Danny #Let Jason & Damian be Brothers #Give Me Primordial Being of Space Danny #And not just like ooh stars space but like literal Every Space #He knows where everything is even in the Infinite space #Anyway-#Danny definitely gives each of his family members handcrafted meteoric swords #OMG CUJO #Does the whole League just go 'yep that's a normal dog nothing to see here' about him lmao #Damian later with his demon bat-dragon Goliath: Father I don't see what's wrong they are just a puppy #Huh Ras might have a decent relationship with his grandkids in this with how smitten he is

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prythianpages · 3 months

Text

Dandelions | Azriel x Witch Reader

summary: it's your baby girl's first day of school and Azriel isn't ready to let her go.

warnings: fluff/angst; some suggestiveness at the end (bonus scene)

a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: but also my Azriel x witch reader series. I really adore this song and this was the only series I could apply it to. This can pretty much be read as a stand alone imagine. All you have to know is that reader is a witch and is an established relationship with Az.

In the quiet hush of morning, Azriel and Melaina find themselves at the breakfast table with sleep in their eyes. The floor is cloaked in their shadows, joining one another at their feet in a vast sea of darkness.

Yet, the dance of their shadows harbor distinct meanings.

Though he tries to hide it, your keen eyes pick up on the subtle poignant unease in Azriel's demeanor. An undercurrent of melancholy taints the air, prompting you to send a reassuring tug through your bond. Azriel returns the gesture, his hand finding yours across the table. Meanwhile, Melaina quietly finishes her breakfast. Her shadows, a whirlwind of nerves and excitement, betray her impassive appearance. Today is her first day of school, the precipice of a new chapter in her life, and Azriel can't help but grapple with the realization that his little girl is growing up far too quickly.

“All done, my pretty?” You ask softly, gaze alight with admiration as her small wings flutter behind her.

She’s the mirror image of her father with her captivating hazel eyes–a perfect blend of greens and browns that remind you of the nature you’re so fond of. Two braids cascade down her shoulders and delicate bangs accentuate her sun-kissed complexion. When she was born, you had joked that you had given birth to Azriel’s carbon copy and little did you know that even her personality would match his.

Melaina nods and you rise, taking her plate to the kitchen sink. The corner of your lips lift up into a smile when you hear Azriel ask, “Are you sure you want to go to school? You can always start next year.”

“Mel is more than ready for school,” you lightly chide Azriel, who chooses to ignore your words of consolation.

His gaze is fixed on Melaina, a plethora of scenarios plaguing his mind. He wishes he could see what’s really on her mind–to be able to foresee any worries she may have and ease her through them. The same way he’s eased her through every milestone of her life thus far. He was there when she took her first steps, when she first got hurt from tripping over a rug that he immediately disposed of after, when she said her first word–which much to your dismay was your cat’s name, Binx.

But now, she was ready for school. Her first time being away from home without you or him or his brothers by her side. Her first time being on her own. What if the kids in her class don’t take well to her? To her shadows? He remembers the apprehensive looks he’d receive in Windhaven when growing up and the thought of anyone doing the same to her pains him. What if they are mean to her? What if they hurt her?

The obsidian tendrils at Azriel's side stir with an eerie melody, commanding Melaina's shadows to rise. They snap to attention like disciplined soldiers heeding orders. An unspoken promise unfolds—her shadows would help guide her and protect her from any lingering stare or slightest suspicion of malintent. They return to her side as she rises to her feet, tickling her sides and causing her to giggle.

Azriel smiles and shares her laughter, capturing every minute of it, the feeling in it.

There’s that odd melancholy feeling again as he stands in front of the school with Melaina on one side and you on the other. He can’t help the frown that settles over his face when she wiggles her tiny hand out of his grasp to run to her cousins. You’re following after her, tugging Azriel along with you to join his brothers and their mates at the front of the school.

“Good morning, Azriel jr,” Cassian greets her with a smile, playfully tugging at one of her braids. “Are you ready for your first day?”

Melaina lets out a huff. “Of course I am, Uncle Cas.”

Cassian then looks toward Azriel, who continues to brood, and chuckles. “It doesn’t look like your daddy is.”

Azriel glares at Cassian. You leave his side to hug Feyre and the frown leaves his face at the delighted squeal that comes from you, his shadows singing in response. He turns his head to see you and Feyre exchange smiles while you gush in excitement over her growing belly. Though Feyre looks at Azriel with a knowing smile, her words are directed to you.

“Rhys was the same way with Nyx,” she muses and out of the corner of his eye, Azriel catches his brother rolling his eyes. But he doesn’t deny it.

“So was Nesta,” Cassian adds, propping an elbow on Nesta’s shoulders. She shoves him off with a shrug before chiding after their twin boys, Cardan and Calian. The aftermath of the aphrodisiac you made–or rather, remade–for her after Azriel accidentally drank the first batch.

“I’m surprised you’re faring well with this,” Feyre says with a raised brow at you.

“Well, someone has to be the strong one,” you tease, side glancing at Azriel and squeezing his hand.

Azriel lets out a small huff, similar to the one Melaina let out earlier. He knew you were also stressed and a little sad but you were surprisingly able to hide it better than him. But unbeknownst to him, just in case the obsidian necklace she wore was not enough, you had casted a protection spell over Melaina before she went to bed…and packed her bags with a variety of charged crystals.

The gathering of students at the school's entrance slowly disperses, and Azriel tenses beside you, acknowledging the imminent moment of having to say goodbye. Nyx, ever courteous, takes it upon himself to accompany Melaina to class. Azriel suspects Feyre's influence in Nyx's gesture, as if she intuited the added difficulty for him and you. He watches as Melaina walks back to you and you lean down, gently smoothing her bangs before placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Today will be a wonderful day for you,” you affirm for her with a radiant smile, making Azriel's heart melt at the sight of the two girls he loves the most. He wishes that he could freeze the picture and save it from the funny tricks of time.

Your hand delicately reaches for the obsidian crystal suspended from her neck, lifting it tenderly to your lips. There’s a flash of green light that engulfs the crystal and as you release the necklace, Azriel notices the new sparkle to it. “Love you, my pretty.”

Though Melaina doesn’t verbalize it back, her eyes radiate a golden glow and the soft caress of her shadows against your face feels like a tender whisper that articulates, "I love you too.” You pull her in close, hugging her smaller frame and lean down to whisper. But Azriel’s attentive senses still catch it.

“Now hug and give your daddy a kiss so he doesn’t cry.”

Azriel resists the urge to roll his eyes. Feeling a tug on his sweater, he leans down to meet his daughter at eye level. Opening his arms expectantly, a surge of warmth envelops him as she eagerly rushes into his embrace. A tender kiss graces his cheek, accompanied by the familiar caress of her shadows against his other cheek similar to the way they had done with you. He pulls away to look at her, holding her gently by the shoulders. He knows her shadows will do well to protect her and if those aren’t enough, her older cousins are just a couple of classrooms down the hall. But he needs to hear her say it.

“What will you do if someone is mean to you?”

Melaina’s eyes light up and she steps out from his hold. True to the goddess you named her after, she's a tiny vision of nightmares and madness, as she assumes a defensive position, her shadows dancing around her.

“Kick them in the face!” She exclaims as she raises her leg up with a glare directed toward her nonexistent enemy. “I'll make my enemies bleed.”

Cardan and Calian follow after her while Nyx wisely keeps a safe distance, amused by the spectacle of his younger cousins engaging in an imaginary brawl. Cassian watches them fondly, striking punches of his own into the air but you’re shaking your head with furrowed brows. Azriel catches the pointed look you send his way and a subtle blush overtakes his cheeks as you’ve discovered his secret. He continues to read Melaina, those books you told him not to.

“No, Mel, that’s not–”

“That’s my girl,” Azriel grins as he rises to his feet, feeling slightly better. He rustles her bangs fondly.

The sound of the school bell echoes through the park as a final warning that class should be beginning shortly. Azriel reluctantly shrugs Melaina’s backpack off his shoulder, the small bag looking ridiculous on someone of his stature. He adjusts it on her with careful consideration for her delicate wings and feels an ache in his chest as the backpack nearly engulfs her smaller frame.

As the faint rustling, reminiscent of rocks shifting, comes from the bag, it is Azriel’s turn to send you a subtle yet pointed look in your direction. A suppressed smile tugs at his lips when you quickly avert your gaze and he realizes he wasn’t the only one keeping a secret.

“Off you go, my little shadow. See you later.”

Once the backpack is secured to her, she takes Nyx’s waiting hand and runs off to the entrance with him. Azriel almost frowns but then, at the top of the stairs, she turns around, waving goodbye with a small absent-minded smile.

He watches her go into the school with a surge of that well-known sadness. Tears prick his eyes and though he knows he’s being dramatic, he can’t help the feeling that he’s losing her forever. His sweet little girl who keeps on growing. She’s slipping through his fingers all the time.

Bonus scene

Before his family could indulge in making fun of him, Azriel grasps your hand, drawing you close as he summons his shadows. The inky tendrils swirl around you both, transporting you back to the familiar sanctuary of your home.

"If this is your reaction on her first day of school, I can only imagine what you’ll be like when she has her first crush," you say, a teasing sparkle in your eyes.

Azriel's grip on you tightens. He doesn’t want to grapple further into the inevitability of his daughter's growing independence because to him, Melaina will always be his baby girl. A subtle strain echoes in his voice as he pleads, "Don't."

Easing out of his embrace, you giggle at his dramatics, strolling toward the kitchen with a lightness in your step, intent on brewing some tea. "It's just a couple of hours, Az," you reassure him.

"A couple of hours?" Azriel echoes, a pensive note in his voice as he joins you in the kitchen.

Having taken the entire week off, he had intended to be present for every moment—dropping Melaina off and picking her up during her first week at school. He didn’t plan for much other than that and he was used to spending his days off with his little family but now Melaina was off at school, leaving the two of you alone.

The kettle placed on the stove begins to whistle, harmonizing with the new thought that brews in his mind. You’re raising your steaming cup of tea to your lips, peering over at Azriel as he walks up to you. “What? You want some?” You ask, raising your cup to him.

Azriel shakes his head with a smile. Carefully taking the cup from you, he places it onto the counter behind you. He gently but firmly holds your chin, coaxing you to meet his gaze. The faint blush on his cheeks returns, a soft hue that complements the golden brilliance in his eyes as he looks down at you with adoration because you’ve given him everything he’s ever dreamed of and more.

Still, there's an insatiable desire within him for even more moments, more shared dreams, and more of you.

“Let’s have another?”

“A baby?”

Azriel nods, attentively studying your features for any nuanced emotion. He feels relief when you smile and you voice your answer without having to say anything, flooding him with love through the bond you share. The two of you had discussed having children years ago, almost two years before having Melaina. After she was born, you mirrored each other’s desires for having more but had agreed on waiting but not too long as you wanted your children to grow up together.

“We do have a couple of hours to ourselves,” you remind him again, embracing him with arms entwined around his neck, fingers brushing through the back of his hair.

He hooks his arms under your knees, lifting you up with ease and you’re wrapping your legs around his waist. He grins when your legs tighten around him and kisses you.

“Let’s not waste another second.”

a/n: hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it <3 Sorry, I skipped ahead. I do want to eventually write an imagine for when Az & reader first find out they're having a baby. That might be the next imagine for this series.

tagging: @fxckmiup

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel imagine #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #az!dandelions

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greenlyren12 · 1 year

Text

Waytelem

Neteyam x Reader

word count: 1k

Summary: Tradition with Neteyam

A/N:

"Individuals create a songcord that is used as a tactile representation of their own personal or family. Na'vi create their own song cords and expand on them continuously, adding a new item to the cord for any significant life event that occurs."

"Traditionally, once a Na'vi male has passed the tests on the path to manhood and has been accepted into the clan as an adult, he is not only allowed to make his bow from the wood of the Hometree, but he is also expected to choose his woman."

Two blue feet glued to the wooden branch below you, focused on keeping balance, you strolled ahead under the shadow of greenery. Rays of sunshine pooled beneath you, serenity chirping around, causing your ears to flutter.

Stopping at almost every step, you lovingly caressed the manifestations of the Great Mother. From sensitive to the touch, peach colored mushrooms to hanging azure vines. Every breath you took was synchronized with the forest.

Happiness was simple.

As all things seemed in tune, a particularly annoying tail kept disturbing your peace. Finding the joy in tickling your nose and poking whichever eye it chose. Having enough of it, you swiftly seized it between your grasp and tugged on it.

“Neteyam, you säsrätx!”

The boy fastened his pace and collected his tail back with a toothy smile.

“Ikniyama is close, this should not even phase you.” The young na’vi snickered.

“That was your last breath, skxawng.” You evilly laughed and began to chase him, pinching the back of his legs whenever you could.

Both of you quickly climbed up the trunk of a particularly large tree. Ascending to a naturally formed platform, secluded from the eye. Neteyam was first to sit down, carefully putting his bow and arrows beside him.

You followed, going by his side, slapping his cheek with your tail. Proudly sitting down with your legs crossed, you expected a reaction - and none was received. Instead, he remained seated in front of you, a smug smile painting the lower half of his face. Not even looking at you, he busied himself with detaching his songcord from his waist cloths.

You mirrored his actions, getting yours out.

“You know, this is unacceptable behavior from the future Olo’уektan.” An emotionless statement from you, which purpose was to get under his skin.

Finally meeting your gaze, Neteyam laid his songcord on the ground.

“And this is the behavior expected from a child.” He said with a smile.

The boy did not mean for it to hurt, but it did. By the clan’s way he was an adult, having completed the rite of passage. And you - half a year younger and still a kid. Being born again, it scared you. The uncertainty never left your weary shoulders. But it was close, you could do it. Conclude it and become a functioning member of the clan.

Neteyam’s soft nature immediately noted your silence.

“You know I did not mean it.” The boy worryingly said while reaching out to caress your hand.

Meeting his copper eyes, you let your face fall down.

“I will wait for you.” He matter of factly reassured your downcast frame.

I will wait for you, he said, of its true meaning you pondered.

Would he wait for you?

Both of your lives were intertwined from small children, you had always known him. Seeing him grow from Neteyam the Mighty Fisherman to Neteyam the Fierce Warrior. The youthful adoration was now a clumsy teenage love, but none of you dared to say a word. Ever since you could remember you had always done everything together. it was natural, you just always lingered by his side and he by yours. it was funny actually, right now was one of those moments.

it was a tradition to weave your songcords together, if you had a closer look at them you would see they were almost identical.

His last words had your cheeks become a deep shade of purple now, ears back, you squeezed his hand.

“Do not speak of such things, Nete.” Your tone low from embarrassment.

His hand from yours went up to your nose to flick it so you could look him in the eye, missing your usual demeanor.

“Whatever you wish, yawne.” The young na’vi went back to fiddling with his songcord.

“Neteyam!”

You spent the next hour twining a fragment of an ikran’s tooth between the string. From when Neteyam claimed his own ikran and as it was your first time climbing the Hallelujah mountains.

With Neteyam’s help you crushed it to smaller bits, so it could be easily woven into the cord.

The time shared together was mostly spent in singing personal songs, only for your closest to hear. It served as an escape from the daily chores of life, hidden from parents and siblings.

“I think i’m done.” Neteyam broke the silence first.

You grabbed his hand and pulled for closer inspection, catching the boy by surprise. It was now your turn to make him nervous.

A shy expression and a tight line forming on his mouth, he intently looked and waited for an answer.

“It’s beautiful, Nete.” You flashed a toothy grin, fangs poking out.

“Thank you.” His expression made your stomach turn, this boy would be the death of you.

Neteyam retracted his palm and pulled out petals from a sun lily. His hand unsurely remained in front of him, scared to proceed. You curiously gazed at the boy, irises enlarging and tail nervously swatting.

“Come closer.” He sweetly commanded, closing the space between you.

For the first time ever, you silently obliged, standing on your four limbs, you waited. Something was different this time, the air was heavy, you dared not ruin it.

Neteyam carefully put the flower petals behind your ear, making your breath hitch. He pulled back, remaining a few inches from your face, noses almost touching. None of you moved, intently looking into the other’s eyes. You could see the light reflecting in his tawny orbs.

He was beautiful.

The young na’vi slowly closed the space between your lips. The sweetness of the first kiss, gentle and loving. Scared of everything, both of you barely moved. You delicately pulled back, meeting his eyes and diving back in with a smile. This time more confident, Neteyam cupped your cheek, keeping you in place, growing eager by the second. You have no idea how long you had stayed like this.

And then you felt it.

A tickling sensation on top of your heads, both of you pulled back, carefully looking up to inspect.

A woodsprite gently hovered above you.

He will wait for you.

Na'vi translation:

waytelem - songcord säsrätx - annoyance iknimaya - the rite of passage for young Na'vi skxawng - idiot olo’eyktan - clan leader yawne - beloved

#neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam x you #neteyam sully #neteyam avatar #neteyam x reader #avatar imagines #avatar 2

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azullumi · 3 months

Note

What would be the relationship with the children of Genshin men? (*´ω`*)

“the steambird’s latest: how to be a good father” ; genshin men

summary — fatherhood on him.

includes — alhaitham, ayato, baizhu, diluc, kaeya, kaveh, neuvillette, tartaglia, wriothesley, and zhongli

tags — fluff, domestic, diluc girl dad propaganda, not proofread, 1.9k ; headcanons

note — i seriously hope this is what you asked nonnieee, sorry if it’s wrong TT

WRIOTHESLEY, is a pillar of stability and calm in the turmoils and chaos of life—not just to his spouse but to his children also. Despite his duty often calling him to the deep and lonely sea and being (in some manner) bound to it, he always made a concerted effort to be present in the important moments of their lives. His work, much being tremendous, had taught him to be patient and understanding at all times—children can be quite a lot to deal with, despite how adorable they can be. Even though the concept of punishment whenever a wrongdoing has been done is there embedded in his mind, he never applies it to his own kids, opting to guide and teach them instead on what they shouldn’t and should do and why.

Wriothesley navigates the rough and intricate currents of fatherhood with precision and dedication, only wishing to be one that he wanted to have. It’s safe to say that despite his strictness from time to time (done only for their safety), he will be loved a lot by his own children.

ALHAITHAM, a stalwart, leading light. He would share his love of reading for them, most often in the form of reading bedtime stories in which he sometimes discovers that he had fallen asleep shortly after his kid(s) did when he wakes up in the morning by their side. He is not particularly strict nor is he lenient towards them, he’s a perfect balance of the two. He’s not the type to preach what is right and wrong but he will become their pillar for guidance on what they should and shouldn’t do. There was never an occasion wherein he had to scold or reprimand them even if they had done something small but would still make an average person angry. In lieu, he would ask them the reason behind their actions, never forcing the answer out of them, tell them a few words to show his understanding, and ask them to never do it again.

Alhaitham likes the mundane and peaceful life that he has, despite the chaos here and there brought by his children, but he likes it, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

KAMISATO AYATO, while being duty bound as the head of the Kamisato Clan and the Yashiro Commissioner, he never ceases to be there for his family, especially his children. Whenever he’s off the burden of his responsibilities and has some time, he spends it on his family, doting on both of his spouse and children and making up for the lost moments. He cares for his children, tends to them, and looks after them at all times—whether it be him himself doing so or others, particularly in the shadows. If he cannot be there (in a literal way), then someone has to be, that’s just one way to ensure their safety and to prevent something happening to them (knowing the dangers around them). He has quite a lot of enemies, after all, who wouldn’t say that one wouldn’t target his own flesh and blood?

Due to that, the Yashiro Commissioner would come off as a worrywart towards his children, becoming protective and everything; Ayato only wants the best for them and the best is for them to be able to live their life freely and safely.

NEUVILLETTE, the Iudex of Fontaine is not one to be bad with children, in fact, he’s quite great with them. Perhaps it is because of his experience with the Melusines that he is able to have a good and understanding relationship with his children. He’s gentle towards them, patient, protective, and supportive in every way. He is a father that is devoted towards his children, a guiding presence and someone that they can depend on always. And although he is not particularly expressive, he’s not emotionless either. He is able to express his affection and care towards them without problems, whether it be through words or actions, buying them gifts and items that he thinks they will love and offering words of encouragement and support are just a few of the many ways.

Neuvillette often finds himself, while watching them, wishing that they would stay that way forever, as a child with no burdens of the world on their shoulders, and when he realizes that they are growing up (as anyone is bound to be), the rain will suddenly come and fall in Fontaine, lasting for hours.

ZHONGLI, is someone that his children would look up to and admire; there was once an occasion wherein his child tried to act like him, copying his words and dressing up similar to his style, which he found adorable that he entertains the idea of a mini-clone of him. He's wise and knowledgeable, always having something to say in terms of bedtime stories or simply just in conversations; his children become excited a lot when he sits on the side of their bed and begins to tell them stories of his own. He takes them out occasionally, even if it is just a walk around the harbor to look at shops or past time—oftentimes ending the day with watching the sunset before they go home. In addition, on festivals, he’s there participating in the event with his children and never taking his eyes off them.

In line with all that is said, Zhongli is the type to treat a pinky promise as some sort of unbreakable contract (the moment his child would hook their finger on his while saying the promise, it’s become a commitment for him in which he must accomplish).

TARTAGLIA, having been taking care of his siblings and looking after them, it’s evident that he won’t have a hard time dealing with children, especially when it’s one of his own. he just knows what to do in every moment with them—when they’re misbehaving, running around, crying, and everything. He’s very much loving towards his family, shown in the way that he always try to stay in touch with them by sending them letters whenever he’s away (sometimes with a gift) and occasionally surprising them. Tartaglia is very protective over his own children. I mean, no parent would want to see their own child being put in harm’s way or in dangerous situations so he does everything that he can to keep them safe, even if it means lying to them constantly—like how he avoids answering whenever he is asked about his work or make something up—and having the danger be put on his way instead.

Afraid that his obligations as a harbinger and loyal follower of the Tsaritsa would hinder his responsibilities as a father, Tartaglia tries to balance his time and doesn’t prioritize one over another.

KAVEH, quite a doting father, one could say that he’s overprotective towards his children with the fact that he’s all so vigilant and a little bit strict. Albeit he nags them often, but not in a harsh, shouting, throwing glasses and plates, violently screaming way of scolding or nagging but in a crouching on the floor so that they’re on the same level and speaking softly and slowly, never saying anything mean type (it’s not in his note to be rough and cruel towards anyone, especially to his own children). When they begin to cry, however, he would panic—and not just panic but panic panic. Suddenly, he’s blabbering apologies, wiping their tears, hugging them, and assuring them that everything’s okay and he’s not mad at them.

Kaveh provides them with everything that they want and need, would be supportive towards their dreams, does what he can to always be present in their life, everything. And all be it, as long as they come home, he’s perfectly content. He’s quite a selfless person and loving father, only wishing for his children to grow up in a warm home.

DILUC RAGNVINDR, (he has very girl dad energy; he would love it when he has a daughter) he’s the definition of a gentle father, the very embodiment of that word. He never fails to deal with the predicament that he’s having which involves his kids. He’s the type to play house with them, accepting his role as a bodyguard or sometimes, taking on the part as the pet; the type to sit on the floor and play tea party with them, drinking from a plastic cup that has nothing, and say that the tea tastes delicious. He would rather be the one to play such things with them than have others or no one do so even if it will make him look foolish. He spoils them a lot and I mean by a lot. He buys them a lot of things, mainly things that they show interest in or mentioned once that they would like to have—he’s the wealthiest gentleman in Mondstadt, money was never a problem for him. Albeit, the gifts were never enough to express his love for them and it never will be.

Diluc, the man that he is, would give them so much more even if it's himself that they must take.

KAEYA ALBERICH, isn’t exactly too strict towards his children. He lets them do what they want but in a way that they don’t feel like they’re being neglected or he doesn’t care about them. It’s just that he doesn’t wish for them to grow up on regrets and looking back on the memories that they could have had or done. If it makes them happy, then so be it (as long as it’s nothing dangerous or harmful). He occasionally takes his family out whenever he’s not being held by the throat by his responsibilities, taking them to many places away from the city—it could just be for a picnic, for stargazing, for anything just so that he can spend his time with his loved ones.

Kaeya would teach them a lot of things, ranging from small and sometimes foolish things such as how to beatbox to teaching them how to wield a sword if ever they show interest towards it, which would end up with him being seen as a mentor and teacher towards them. Leave it to him to teach them how to cartwheel, however, and he will have them learn and perfected it.

BAIZHU, is an extremely patient and caring father towards his children. Despite often being busy treating patients and having consultations, as well as his research, he still manages to find time to spend with them and finds ways to involve them in his day-to-day activities or tasks in the pharmacy. He brings them along with him to the pharmacy whenever he works but he doesn’t ask them to do anything. His child (or children) could just sit there as they watch him, play around, and take a nap—whenever this happens, however, he brings them to the back room where the bed is and lets them peacefully sleep there.

On one of those days wherein Baizhu could only do nothing but stay in and rest, his children are there to accompany him. Despite how much he insists that they can leave him on his own and they can play outside instead, they wouldn’t listen, preferring to help the herbalist and Qiqi bring him hot water and fruits to aid his recovery. And with them by his side, serene dreams come to his sleep and he feels a little bit better about everything.

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact headcanons #diluc headcanons #ayato headcanons #alhaitham headcanons #kaveh headcanons #kaeya headcanons #baizhu headcanons #zhongli headcanons #neuvillette headcanons #tartaglia headcanons #childe headcanons #wriothesley headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #azul.writes

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strawberries-and-racing · 7 months

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i wanna be yours - mv1

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader

requests that came together and inspired this series:

• nsfw prompts 9-13 (in pt. 2)

• 'listen up. Obsessive possessive crazy max for sweet innocent reader smut.'

• 'ok so we need dark FICS of any driver of your choice but make him very obsessive and possessive and don't forget the smut. Keep it up girlllll!!!'

summary: a lot of tension building between possessive max and sweet y/n.

warnings: alcohol consumption, fluff, slightly crazy max, some cliches (im sorry!) also the title is based off the arctic monkeys song because i felt like the vibes matched also i love arctic monkeys💕

a/n: screaming once again!!! this is the first fluff ive posted and it's part 1/2. the next part has the smut as promised but i wanted to take my time and build this up please enjoy🙏

the flight to the UK was long, but well worth it. two months ago you'd been offered an unbelievable opportunity.

an opportunity you'd been dreaming of for years, one you'd spent what felt like an eternity working towards— an engineering internship. not just any internship, one with the red bull formula one team.

you'd be able to travel with the team, shadow the engineers, help with various tasks around the paddock, and design parts at hq. an absolute dream.

after scouring a thousand real estate websites, you'd finally found the perfect place for to live.

a little 1 bed 1 bath apartment, tucked into a beautiful, quaint little neighbourhood. just 30 mins to the red bull hq.

you'd dedicated many late nights and ikea shopping trips to making the apartment your own. your comfortable escape from the grueling hours of studying and pressures of the internship.

you led a busy life, but it never bothered you. you adored what you did and formula one had been your passion since you were a little girl.

and now everything was falling into place. in fact, tommorrow you'd leave to attend your first race with the team. austria. red bulls home race.

you were ecstatic to say the least.

°~•☆•♡•☆•~°

you hurriedly made your way through the paddock and into the red bull garage. your eyes glued to the schedule on top of the pile of papers in your arms.

you were on your way to assist one of the senior engineers in preparation before the race began.

you were nervous, and it was no help that you weren't exactly sure where you were supposed to be meeting him.

suddenly, you stumble over your own feet and bump into someone.

you feel hands on your shoulders, their grasp firm, steadying you.

you look up and are taken aback by the pair of strikingly blue eyes staring back at you. his eyes were the kind of crystal blue that would capture anyones attention. but despite their bright colour, they had a sort of inexplicable depth, darkness to them.

there was something in his expression that you couldn't quite read. something stirring beneath the surface of his icy gaze. it was as though he wasn't just looking at you, but into you.

you abruptly become aware of his hands, still on your shoulders. you're so oddly aware of them, as if it's your first time being touched by anyone.

he holds you firmly, as if trying to hold you together. the moment seemed to last forever. the two of you frozen in time.

a stranger's eye contact and touch shouldn't be affecting you in this way.

"you okay?"

it's only once he speaks that you realize who the man standing in front of you is.

your eyes widen, cheeks flushing. you straighten up quickly, mouth slightly agape.

"oh'" you start, at a loss for words "yeah, im sorry." you manage a small smile.

you straighten up an take a step backwards, pulling away from his grasp. you miss the warmth of his hands more than you'd ever like to admit.

"it's okay, no worries," his eyes linger on you a moment longer before you both go your separate ways.

as you walk away, you cant help but glance back at him.

max verstappen.

you'd certainly heard him speak before on tv, but something about his accent in person was enchanting. his energy seemed to linger on you like perfume.

everything about him caught your attention, long before you'd bumped into him in person.

you'd seen his dominance on track, it was impossible not to notice. he could control the car like no other driver, handling each corner perfectly. he pushed the car to the limit every race and it payed off.

it wasn't just his driving you noticed. his persona. it was everything. and you couldn't ignore the fact that it was sexy.

his short temper, his tendency to snap easily.

it was unreasonably and indescribably attractive.

°~•☆•♡•☆•~°

the next time you see him he's across the room. you're studying the notes that the senior engineer gave you, papers and writing utensils spread across the table in front of you.

he was discussing something with his race engineer, he certainly wasn't doing anything that was particularly interesting or peculiar, he wasn't even looking in your direction. but for fucks sake you were distracted. you were somehow absorbed by his prescence.

ever since bumping into him you couldn't seem to get him out of your head. last night you'd replayed the memory over and over in your mind, finding it more difficult than usual to fall asleep.

all day, you'd silently prayed you would bump into eachother again. your relentless efforts to push your thoughts and feelings to the back of your mind were useless.

the mere idea of him was addictive, so alluring. he was drug-like to you and impossible to ignore.

although it was unknown to you at the time, max had found himself similarly hooked on you. or rather, the thought of you. even though he found enough strength to avoid looking at you, he was well aware of you. sitting at the table in the furthest corner. he was even more aware of the fact that your eyes kept flickering in his direction.

your energy was unlike anything he had ever known. you walked around with an aura of pure innocence. yet you seemed untouchable.

your smile shone. your laugh was contagious. you radiated sunshine. max had come to know these things about you.

you were magnetic in such a way that made him curious.

it stirred something inexplicable inside him. like you were another thing for him to win, to claim. another thing for him to dominant. to corrupt.

your innocence was tangible. and max wanted to be the one to wreck you. it was all he thought about.

ruining you.

°~•☆•♡•☆•~°

the light in your apartment was soft. that's how you preferred it.

you relished your alone time. your small apartment was tailored exactly to you. it was always where you felt perfectly safe and at ease.

light from the sunset was just beginning to spill through your windows. you're stirring a big pot of soup on the stove with lazy motions.

a buzz from your phone catches your attention, the screen lights up and you see a new message. it's from andrew, one of the young engineers at red bull who you'd grown close with over the past few months.

your eyes widen upon reading the message.

a dinner with drivers? you couldn't deny that it sounded exciting.

but then again, you were already in your pajamas and the soup was beginning to steam.

you suck in a breath.

fuck.

the three letters of his name were more than enough to change your answer.

°~•☆•♡•☆•~°

you spent half your time getting ready frantically choosing an outfit.

finally, you'd settled on your favorite black dress. your hair fell over your shoulders in soft curls left over from the day before.

now, you were standing outside the restaurant. you take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves.

you walk in and the hostess greets you with a friendly smile. you're led to a booth connected to a big table that's only half full.

andrew waves you over and you take a seat next to him in the booth. lando sits across from you.

youd never spoken with lando outside of strictly professional context and you were pleasantly surprised by his charming humor. you're engrossed in the conversation with the two boys as the rest of the group fills the table. you look up to greet the others.

your breath hitches when you see him. his eyes stare into yours with the same intensity as they had two days ago. you don't break the eye contact until he sits down and a dark haired boy you've never seen before calls his name.

despite the abrupt rush of blood to your head, you manage to hold up the conversation with lando.

°~•☆•♡•☆•~°

max couldn't keep his eyes off you for long, and the longer he watched the tighter his grip got on his glass, until his knuckles turned white. he was so focused on you laughing and smiling with lando that he didn't pick up on the way you fidgeted with your ring. a nervous tell.

max clenched his jaw as you leaned in close to something lando said. far closer than what many would deem an action between two casual friends. your giggles and blushing and landos knowing smirk and your hand jokingly smacking his arm made max see red.

"you alright, mate?"

"im fine."

°~•☆•♡•☆•~°

as the night goes on and the chatter and laughter get louder, people begin shuffling around, moving to talk with new people.

lando is called over to a different group of friends and andrew leaves with him, leaving you alone in the booth.

"having fun?"

you recognize his voice immediately, sense his burning presence as he slides into the booth, sitting next to you.

"yeah." you manage a smile. "the food was really good."

"that's good." he says, briefly glancing away. your eyes involuntarily trace over the tendons of his neck.

he was wearing a dark button down, the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. simple, but ridiculously sexy.

he turns his eyes back onto you. "i didn't know you were gonna be here."

"oh i—" you hesitate for a second, his eyes making your heart skip a beat.

"andrew invited me." you explained, turning slightly so you could face him.

"mm, so are you..." he gestures between you and andrew a few seats down, you know what hes asking.

"oh no, we're just friends." you toy with the edge of your napkin.

it was a bold topic to bring up during a first conversation to say the least, but it didn't feel weird. there wasn't the usual tension, usual coldness that typically came with talking to someone for the first time. it was comfortable, you were able to relax a little.

"hm." is all max answers with. he spreads his legs slightly and pushes his hips forwards, getting comfortable. his leg brushing against yours.

the casual action had your heart thrumming in your ears, beating so loudly you're worried he can hear it.

you swallow, having to glance away. you feel your cheeks turning red.

why max verstappen had such an intense effect on you was still a mystery.

"so um—" you start, trying to make some small talk that would distract you from his arm that now rested on the ledge behind you. you take a breath, composing yourself before speaking. "how often do you guys do this kind of thing?"

he shifted again, his leg touching yours, but he doesn't pull it away this time. the knot of nerves in your stomach tightened. you felt your face turn even redder. the physical contact made your body ache for more.

max smirked, his ego swelling as he saw the effect he had on you.

"once in a while, usually after a race."

you nod, biting your lip.

"congratulations by the way." you say, it wasn't surprising he'd taken first yet again, but you said it anyways. you prayed he wasn't able to pick up on the way your words came out slightly shaky.

you wanted to do nothing more than relax into him, but with the way he was looking at you that proved to be impossible.

you took a sip of your wine, desperate to cool down as an unexpected surge of heat washed over you which lingered between your legs.

max was different than anyone you'd ever talked too before. he reminded you of nobody. his sense of humor was unique and hilarious.

as the conversation continued you grew immensely fond of the dutchman sitting beside you. although you were absorbed in the stories from his childhood he told you, you remained acutely aware of how close the two of you were now sitting.

max's night couldn't have been unfolding more perfectly. your body language made your thoughts and feelings painfully obvious.

he picked up on the way you blushed immensely at any slight touch from him. the way your pupils dilated as you stared at him. the goosebumps that spread across your chest when he complimented your dress.

but the loudness of the restaurant was a little too much for him. there were too many people here. he craved something more intimate, more private.

"do you wanna get out of here?"

you're caught off guard by his words.

the question was so cliche, yet coming from his mouth it made your heart throb.

"there's a beautiful view not too far from here," he continued, "we could walk?"

his voice was like velvet and he leaned in close, speaking in a low tone as if he didnt want anyone to hear except you.

by now, you're practically having heart palpitations. the pit in your stomach gapes wider.

it was already hard enough for you to keep your sanity intact with him while surrounded by other people. you honestly aren't sure if you could handle being out alone with him.

you nod slowly your head spinning, breathe quickening.

"oh, yeah i'd love that." your voice was unsteadt, yet enthusiastic.

without another word he starts getting up, but before he slips out of the booth he gently touches your leg with his hand, as if reassuring you.

his fingers may as well have been made of hot metal, his touch affected your entire body, his fingerprints burned into your skin.

you felt like a little kid with a crush as you gingerly got up and followed max out of the restaurant, butterflies in your stomach and in your mind.

you don't notice all the eyes on you two as you leave the restaurant, too caught up in the giddiness you were feeling. your own eyes too focused on max in front of you, more specifically on his back which looked so good in that damn shirt.

max, on the other hand, was well aware of all the eyes on him. he fought to keep his cocky grin at bay. there were at least 20 other people there, and out of everyone, you were leaving with him.

he opens the door and lets you by first.

"thank you," you say, the night air cooling your overheated body.

"of course."

amongst the ever present—extremely active— butterflies that fluttered in your stomach, you felt a twinge of genuine nervousness.

you realize that you had just left a restaurant, alone at night, with a guy you technically barely knew. was this safe?

it certainly felt safe. max felt nothing like a stranger.

your nervousness melted away once max fell into step beside you. you looked up at him, at those intense blue eyes.

you were walking so close your arms touched. you had the urge to reach out and take his hand, but of course you didn't.

so there you were, walking alongside max verstappen into the dark night, to see the promised beautiful view.

you'd only walked two blocks before max carefully took your hand in his, entwining his fingers with yours.

please let me know if you want to be tagged for pt.2 (this might end up being three parts)❤

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #mv1 #mv33 #f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #prompts #fanfic request #f1 fanfic

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lividstar · 2 months

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𐔌᭥ᩙ༉ PALETTE OF DESTINY.

୨ genre ୧ fluff, highschool au

: you’re an aspiring artist who’d very much rather trip over a paintbrush than have people find out about your passion. but when rafayel, the school’s golden boy and president of the art club, stumbles upon your sketchbook on a fateful day by chance, things are destined to take a huge turn – and suddenly, your well-kept talent was no longer much of a secret.

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ note ! my break is finally over !! so glad i managed to pull through (also they only allow 10 image insertions so i apologize for the lack of dividers haha)

in the chambers of linkon high, where bonds formed like constellations in the night sky, you and rafayel orbited in separate galaxies. rafayel, with his magnetic charm and sarcastic wit, loved to stand in the center of the spotlight. you, on the other hand, were the complete opposite. you found solace in the shadows, often keeping to yourself as you went through the days in silence. it was as if your paths were not destined to cross, given how your worlds were practically parallel to each other.

yet beneath rafayel’s facade, a longing for at least a few seconds to himself laid beneath the surface. as much as he pretended to like being the center of attention, even though he would never admit it – not even to himself, he wanted nothing but for those eyes to keep their gazes off of him. after all, having a lot of people like you despite not being remotely close to you only meant one thing – they either have the intention to use you for their own good, or are just keeping an eye on you with the eagerness to watch you trip on your tracks.

you’ve always been thankful for rafayel over hogging the spotlight all the time, which never failed to ensure your chances to be one step away from the crowd everyday.

yet unbeknownst to both you and the crowd that adored rafayel, he has had his eyes on you for a fairly long time now, although it’s not in the usual way you’d expect.

rafayel had always been jealous of how the only attention focusing on you was your own. he was curious about your whole being, because people at school either love him or loathe him, yet you stood on neither sides – which made him both intrigued and grateful. intrigued because he always wonders what you are up to because of how mysterious you were in his eyes, and grateful because at least there’s one person in linkon high who doesn’t really care about his presence.

it only made him want to know more about you, though.

as everyone formed their own groups inside the classroom to chatter and spend their free time to its fullest, thomas leaned over to rafayel, tilting his head at him. “you really have a knack for making every little thing in your life complicated, don’t you? why don't you just go talk to her?” he suggested, nodding towards you who sat at the back, lost in thought by the window.

rafayel shook his head in disagreement, his brows furrowing as he did so. “that’s way too typical- you know i refuse to do things the easy way. also, i don’t want to invade her space or make her uncomfortable.” he replied, glancing over you with a hint of curiosity.

thomas shrugged, understanding rafayel’s reasons. “well, you’re right.” rafayel crossed his arms as he leaned back, looking down on thomas as he sat on the boy’s table. “aren’t i always?” thomas only shook his head, already used to rafayel’s cocky behavior. “no, not really.”

he teased in a flat tone.

“so then, what’s your plan? don’t tell me you intend on following her on her way home after school later just so you could have a one on one moment with each other.” thomas crooked his eyebrow, seemingly skeptical of rafayel’s plans.

rafayel scoffed, rolling his eyes. “please, like i’d ever do something so cliché- and why are you looking at me as if it’s an idea i’d actually consider?”

“because it is.”

“you-” the sudden ringing of the school bells echoing through the halls cut rafayel off, as students left the classroom one by one with their lunchboxes at hand, headed for the cafeteria. thomas stood up from his seat, patting rafayel’s shoulder as he walked right past the boy sitting on his table. “good luck on your journey of befriending the person who’s very likely to actually be the one who hates you the most.”

“that’s not even-”

this was the second time rafayel had been cut off now. thomas had simply closed the door on him. groaning in annoyance, rafayel hopped off from thomas’s table as he walked towards the front door – the one thomas had just shut to cut him off. but just as he was about leave, rafayel heard a loud thud behind him, making him turn his head quickly.

whatever he was expecting to see, it certainly wasn’t your sketchbook lying on the floor while you were in a deep slumber with your head down on your table.

walking closer towards you with cautious steps, he crouched down, picking up your sketchbook with curiosity. he took his time to examine each and every sticker and doodle on the front cover, a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips as he found it cute.

as he flipped through every page, he found himself becoming more impressed with each sketch he laid his eyes on. he could tell you made sure each and every stroke of your artworks were given enough detail – they didn’t seem like something you made for fun to distract yourself from boring classes, no, rather, they seemed like something you actually put dedication to. you were undoubtedly a skilled artist who has had this hobby for a fairly long time. after all, it takes an expert to know one.

he eventually starts to wonder why you never publicly expressed this talent of yours. as far as his knowledge as the art club’s president led him, you’ve never joined any events related to art – you weren’t even part of the club, to begin with. but why?

something so beautiful should never have been hidden in the first place – at least that’s what he believes.

as he closed your sketchbook and carefully placed it back inside your bag, he found himself in a trance as he glanced at your sleeping expression. based on his observation, it didn’t seem far too different from how you looked when you were awake. you’ve always appeared to be calm, no matter what.

that was one of your traits he was unsure whether he admired or wanted to have as his own.

he decided to leave you to yourself shortly after, but it wasn’t until an idea suddenly came up in his mind. rafayel hurried over to his seat at the center front, rummaging through his bag as he ripped a page off his notebook, taking a pen out of his pocket. the sound of his pen scribbling on the paper softly echoed around the empty classroom as he wrote a note on it.

after carefully putting it inside your bag, he quickly left the room – not after taking a quick glance at you once more. as he searched through the halls to look for thomas, rafayel couldn’t help but wonder how you’d react after reading his little note.

—

“-which reminds me, i went to look for you at the cafeteria earlier, but i didn’t see you anywhere. were you at the rooftop again?” tara asked in curiosity.

“huh? oh... i think i fell asleep.” you pondered as you tried to recall the events before waking up to the sound of your classmates walking back inside the classroom one by one as they chatted loudly. “everyone was already going back to their assigned seats the moment i woke up, so i think that’s the case...”

“i’m not even surprised at this point... but, you know, i do wonder how you manage to fall asleep in your classroom- especially since rafayel’s one of your classmates. i bet it’s really loud there, huh?” she tilted her head.

“i’ve gotten used to it already at this point, i’m afraid...” you rubbed your nape as you chuckled sheepishly. “well, whatever helps you sleep at night. at least now i know where to look for you whenever i don’t see you around during break time- you’re either enjoying your own company at the rooftop, or sleeping in your classroom.” she smiled as she nodded while pointing a finger at you.

you chuckled softly, yet gave her a nod in return as well. “okay, then... take care, tara,” you smiled at her, waving farewell as you parted ways.

“bye-bye!”

you were already far deep into the night. your surroundings engulfed you with a deafening silence, as the dim glow of the moonlight passed through your bedroom window. you’ve been on a staring contest with your ceiling for approximately 10 minutes now, uncomfortably laying down on your back. this was exactly why you tried to avoid sleeping during the day as much as possible – you’d always end up having way too much energy to fall asleep.

groaning softly as you sat up, you reached for your bedside lamp as you switched it open, the empty space of the bed in front of you deflating as you placed your bag on it. rummaging through your items, you searched for your sketchbook, wanting to have something to do to distract yourself from the long night.

it was then that your hands stumbled upon a small crumpled piece of paper.

at first, you were confused – the paper was unfamiliar to you, so there was no way it was ripped off of something of your property. you unfolded it carefully, curious about what was written on it.

“the world deserves to witness how talented u are :)”

your eyes widened slightly in disbelief as you read the words written on the paper – this could only mean one thing.

someone had seen your artworks.

but how? and when? you tried to backtrack, and that was when you remembered that the last thing you saw before you fell asleep was your sketchbook. so then, now you were stuck wondering whether the note’s intention was to give a compliment or to make fun of you in a passive aggressive way.

opening your phone as you lightly squinted after being practically blinded with its blindness, you searched for tara’s number in your contacts, immediately dialing her number the moment you found it.

the soft glow of your bedside lamp illuminated the room as you sat up, your heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

after a few rings, tara’s energetic voice filled the line. “hey, you! what’s up?” she greeted cheerfully. “how do you manage to remain enthusiastic even in the middle of the night...?” you pondered, a confused expression on your face.

“drinking iced coffee four times in a row in one sitting, maybe?” and with the tone she used, you weren’t even sure whether it was a lighthearted joke to uplift the atmosphere or if she actually meant it. nevertheless, you just let out a sigh.

“why the sudden late night call, though? can’t sleep?” tara asked from the other line. “well, if i called a few minutes earlier, i guess that would’ve been the case...” you trailed off, looking down at the note you held in your hand. “huh? what do you mean?”

“i was rummaging through my bag to look for my sketchbook earlier, and i stumbled upon something strange...” tara didn’t even let you finish, already exclaiming eagerly the moment you said the word “strange.”

“mysterious findings, you say? i’m all ears!”

you looked at the note once again, reading it aloud to tara. “i found this note. it says... ‘the world deserves to witness how talented u are :)’. i don’t know how, when, and where it got here, though.”

there was a brief silence on the other end of the line, followed by tara’s gasp of realization. “oh my, that sounds like something straight out of a shoujo manga! wait- maybe it’s a secret admirer!”

you awkwardly chuckled, quickly dismissing it as unlikely. “what? no, i doubt it, tara.. i don’t believe it’s possible.” you replied, your voice tinged with self-doubt.

“what? hey, don’t sell yourself short!” tara chided gently. “you’re amazing, and it’s very likely someone out there clearly sees it- as they should! i mean, does the note not say it enough?”

you couldn’t help but smile at tara’s unwavering optimism, her words offering a glimmer of hope in the darkness of uncertainty. “my point still stands, but i appreciate it, really. but then again, you never know whether someone’s messing around with you or not in our school..”

tara remained silent for about a couple seconds. “now that you mentioned it... wait, what if the person who saw it was one of your gossip-obsessed classmates? what if they spill the beans until it reaches the art club?”

a pang of worry shot through you at tara’s theories, the thought of your private hobby becoming public knowledge leaving a bitter taste on your tongue. “i hadn't thought of that," you admitted worriedly. “i’d really hate for that to happen..."

tara’s tone softened, her concern evident in her voice. “let’s hope that’s not the case- i’d prefer for the mysterious person to be a secret admirer of yours and not the latter. and hey, even if it does get out, your talent deserves to be recognized, y’know?” she reassured you.

feeling a sense of relief wash over you, you thanked tara for her understanding before bidding her goodnight. as you settled back into bed, the warmth of tara’s friendship enveloped you, easing the uncertainty that had plagued your thoughts.

you felt the corners of your lips tilt upwards as you stifled a chuckle. you’ve always been grateful to have tara as your best friend, because her outgoing personality fits just right with your likeliness to remain self-reserved all the time. her loud presence had a perfect contrast to your quiet aura – which made everything between your friendship just go so well.

if you had a dollar for each time people would wonder how you two manage to tolerate each other’s presence, you’d be on a yacht right now – they’d always ask comments such as, “don’t you feel overwhelmed by tara’s enthusiasm?” or if not, they’d go like, “how does tara manage not to get bored by your consistent silence?” yet you two would only brush it off every single time.

you two were glad to have each other in your lives, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

glancing at the small piece of paper on your hand once more, you let out a sigh as you put it back inside your bag, finally feeling exhaustion spread all over your body. you figured there was no longer a need for sketching the night away at this point, so you placed your bag away as you switched your bedside lamp off, wrapping yourself around your blanket as your eyes fluttered shut.

as much as you tried to deny it to yourself, you couldn’t help but feel curious as to who the mysterious person who put the note inside your bag was.

and you had a bad, bad feeling that it’ll turn out to be someone you’ll least expect.

“first of all, you’re really, really stupid. second of all, you’re very stupid. lastly- holy hell, you’re actually so stupid!” thomas’s frustration echoed through the empty classroom as he frantically searched through his bag, his fingers desperately seeking the familiar touch of his phone screen.

rafayel’s incredulous expression mirrored his disbelief. “wha- now it’s on me?!” he retorted, his hands instinctively moving to his chest in a defensive gesture. “i hate to be the bearer of bad news, mr. thomas, but when you indulge in utterly foolish activities, you’ll have to shoulder the consequences afterward. it’s very immature of you to pass it on to other people simply because admitting that you're dumb puts your ego in pain,” rafayel asserted, crossing his arms in a display of dominance.

thomas’s sarcastic tone cut through the air like a knife. “are you done talking now, shakespeare? do you finally have the time to lend me a hand?” he quipped, his eyes practically rolling in their sockets.

“why should i?” rafayel shot back, his patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

“because you were the one who left my bag open before we headed here! if it weren’t for you, my phone wouldn’t have—" thomas’s words were abruptly cut off by rafayel’s hand covering his mouth, muffling his protests.

“yeah, yeah, i’ll go look for it, or whatever. can you shut your mouth now?” rafayel rolled his eyes, wiping his hand on his uniform as he released thomas.

just as thomas was about to retaliate with a snarky remark, rafayel sauntered past him with a smug expression, heading toward the stairs. “that’s what you call payback, thomas," he called over his shoulder, winking as he waved him farewell.

“rafayel, you-!”

rafayel relished the cool morning breeze as it caressed his skin, the tranquil atmosphere of the rooftop offering a brief respite from his hectic schedule. “guess this wasn’t a bad idea after all, huh?” he mused to himself, settling onto the floor and allowing himself a moment of quiet reflection.

closing his eyes, he momentarily forgot his purpose for coming to the rooftop. however, his peaceful reverie was interrupted by a familiar voice calling his name – soft chuckles he had heard every once in a blue moon during class.

“rafayel...?”

opening his eyes, he was taken aback to see you standing before him. “oh- hey,” he greeted casually, attempting to maintain his usual air of confidence. which was strange – being laid-back usually came naturally to him.

yet, in your presence, it felt different, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

“um... what brings you up here?” you asked, your tone curious yet cautious at the same time. rafayel chuckled softly before replying, “well, i could say the same for you. what’s your story?”

you hesitated for a moment, not used to being the center of attention- and neither were you expecting him to pass the question back to you. “well, i usually come up here during free time,” you explained, feeling a bit vulnerable sharing this with someone.

“oh? why’s that?” rafayel inquired, patting the floor beside him, inviting you to join him. you were a little hesitant at first, but rafayel’s easygoing demeanor put you at ease. “it’s nothing special... i just find it peaceful, away from the chaos of the school,” you explained, finally taking a seat beside him.

rafayel nodded, understanding. “i get that. sometimes you just need a quiet place to escape to.” you nodded in agreement to his words. “what about you...?” you asked, shooting the question back to him.

“well, you see,” rafayel launched into the backstory of his rooftop adventure, recounting the events that had transpired earlier. “ thomas and i had a little spat over his missing phone, and things got a tad heated,” rafayel explained, a hint of amusement in his voice. “he’s convinced i had a hand in its disappearance, but i swear i’m completely innocent.” he said in defense, holding his hands up.

“he didn’t seem like he was going to stop putting up a fight anytime sooner, though, so i just went along with his orders and told him i’ll go look for it- and you’re probably wondering what that has got to do with me going up here, but i figured it’d be easier to search for it from above, because, well, maybe he dropped it on the ground or something.” he shrugged.

listening to his animated storytelling, you found yourself drawn in by the humor of the situation. unable to contain it, a stifled laugh escaped your lips at a particularly amusing part of his story.

surprised by the genuine warmth of your laughter, rafayel couldn’t help but smile, his own laughter mingling with yours. realizing the significance of the moment, you quickly composed yourself, returning to your usual calm demeanor as if nothing had happened. “well...”

with the school bells signaling the start of the first period, your conversation with rafayel was cut short. as he stood up, he fixed his uniform, running his hands through his hair. “wanna walk to our class together? it’s not like we go to separate rooms, anyway.”

you were hesitant to accept his offer at first, but you figured there’d be no harm in agreeing anyway. you then found yourselves walking side by side down the hallway, headed to your shared classroom. the atmosphere was laced with a subtle awkwardness, and rafayel, always the entertainer, couldn’t resist breaking the silence.

“so, do you have any exciting plans for today?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone. you glanced at him, “me? well... not really, just the usual routine,” you replied softly, appreciating the effort he made to fill the silence.

he chuckled. “routine, huh? well, maybe today will be different. who knows, maybe we’ll discover a hidden talent or stumble upon a secret club meeting.” rafayel gestured dramatically, creating an imaginary scenario with a playful smirk.

you couldn’t help but smile at his antics, the shared moment of lightheartedness making the walk to class a little more enjoyable.

just as the silence was starting to settle yet again, rafayel came up with yet another topic to discuss. “so, what do you think the chances are of mr. nero bringing up quadratic equations again today?”

you couldn’t help but become amused at his attempt to lighten the mood. “knowing mr. nero... i’d say the chances are pretty high, maybe? but, i don’t know... maybe he’ll surprise us and throw in some trigonometry instead.”

rafayel grinned, pleased with your response. “ah, the joys of high school math. it’s like a rollercoaster ride, isn’t it?” you nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction from the usual quietness of your interactions with rafayel. as you reached the classroom door, rafayel gestured for you to enter first.

“after you,” he said with a smile. “i’ll catch up in a minute.” confused by his sudden change in routine, you hesitated for a moment before stepping into the classroom. once inside, you found your seat at the back of the room and settled in, glancing over your to the front door to see rafayel entering a few minutes later.

as he entered the classroom, all eyes naturally turned towards him, the usual attention that followed the school’s golden boy. however, what surprised you was the way his gaze briefly connected with yours, despite having everyone’s gaze focused on him. in that fleeting moment, there was a hint of something different in his smile, something that caught you off guard.

confusion clouded your thoughts as you watched him take his seat. was it just a simple gesture, or did it hold a deeper meaning? you couldn’t help but return his smile with a small one of your own, though uncertainty lingered in the air.

mr. nero began the lesson, and you pushed aside the thoughts about what just happened, focusing instead on the task at hand. but the memory of that moment stayed with you, a puzzle waiting to be solved in the back of your mind.

as rafayel settled into his seat, thomas leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “so, did you find it?” rafayel glanced at thomas with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “find what?” thomas rolled his eyes. “my phone, genius. the one you conveniently lost.”

rafayel feigned innocence, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “oh, that. well, let’s just say it’s still out there, waiting to be discovered.” thomas groaned, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re impossible, you know that?” rafayel simply shrugged, his attention now focused on the front of the classroom.

meanwhile, thomas seized the opportunity to get his revenge, crumpling a piece of paper and taking aim at rafayel’s head. with a flick of his wrist, he let it fly, but to his dismay, it veered off course, heading straight for mr. nero instead.

as mr. nero’s stern voice filled the classroom, rafayel’s grin faltered, replaced by a mask of feigned innocence as he faced his wrath as the whole class erupted into a fit of laughter.

“rafayel, care to explain why there’s a projectile flying through my classroom?” mr. nero’s tone was sharp, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

rafayel glanced sheepishly at thomas, who was struggling to contain his laughter. “wha- me? sir, i swear it wasn’t-”

“quit beating around the bush! is it really that difficult to act in an orderly manner?” mr. nero crossed his arms, a frustrated expression on his face.

“well, i just- it was an accident, sir. i assure you, i had no intention of disrupting the class.”

thomas couldn’t resist chiming in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “yeah, right. because accidentally throwing things seems to be a common occurrence for mr. perfect over here.”

the class erupted into laughter once more, and rafayel felt a pang of irritation at thomas’s teasing. he was supposed to be annoyed, but as he glanced towards the back of the room and saw you stifling a laugh, he couldn’t help but soften. maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to take the blame just this once after all.

caught in the moment, rafayel played along with the situation, flashing a glare at thomas before turning back to face mr. nero. “sorry, sir. it won’t happen again.”

thomas leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his face. “nice aim, raf. maybe next time you’ll hit your target.”

“shut up.”

you and tara were supposed to go home together, but her girlfriend, jenna, the student council president, had a date planned for both of them after school, leaving you to head home alone. just as you were heading towards the gate, you noticed a phone lying on the floor. curiosity piqued, you picked it up and unlocked it, revealing a childhood photo of rafayel and thomas as the wallpaper. this must be the missing phone rafayel was referring to.

wondering where they might be, you remembered rafayel’s role as the president of the art club and headed towards the art room. pushing open the door, you found the room empty except for rafayel, his back turned to you as he focused on his painting.

“rafayel?” you called out suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise, accidentally smudging a stroke of red on his canvas.

as soon as he heard your voice, he didn’t need to see you to know it was you. still, he turned to face you, a faint smile gracing his lips.

“what brings you here?” he asked, genuine curiosity coloring his tone. you hesitated for a moment, feeling a bit nervous under his gaze. “um, i found this phone outside, and i thought it might belong to thomas. i was going to return it to him, but i couldn’t find him.”

rafayel nodded, understanding. “i see. well, i owe you my entire life- now i no longer have to worry about him nagging into my ear about his missing phone.”

before you could respond, your eyes fell on the smudged red stroke on rafayel’s painting, and you couldn’t help but point it out, apologizing profusely for potentially ruining his masterpiece.

“oh no- i’m so sorry, rafayel...! i didn’t mean to mess up your painting...” you apologized, feeling genuinely remorseful for your unintentional mistake.

rafayel examined the mark for a moment before dismissing your apology with a casual wave of his hand. “don’t worry about it,” he reassured you. “in fact, i think it adds something to the painting.”

perplexed, you questioned his reasoning, prompting rafayel to introduce you to the red string theory. as he explained the concept, you listened intently, captivated by the depth of his perspective on art.

“so, you see, the red string represents the invisible connections between people,” rafayel elaborated. “it’s said that those connected by the red string are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. even though it’s invisible, it binds us all together in unexpected ways.”

his explanation resonated with you, and you nodded in understanding, impressed by the philosophical depth of his interpretation. “that’s why i believe the stroke of red on my canvas adds more meaning to it,” rafayel concluded, his eyes gleaming with passion.

you were awestruck by his insight, realizing that his role as the club president was well-deserved. though you considered yourself an artist, rafayel’s level of understanding elevated your appreciation for the craft.

“actually,” rafayel began, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, “why don’t we add both our names to the painting?” your eyebrows furrowed in surprise. “both our names? but it’s your artwork. i don’t want to impose or take credit for something i didn’t create.”

rafayel chuckled softly, shaking his head. “it’s not about credit, it’s about meaning. your accidental contribution gave this painting a story- a connection. it wouldn’t be the same without it.” you considered his words, realizing the depth of his sentiment. “oh... alright, then.”

with a warm smile, rafayel handed you the marker, gesturing towards the bottom of the canvas. “go ahead, write your name next to mine. together, we’ll leave our mark on this piece.”

grateful for the opportunity to be a part of something meaningful, you carefully inscribed your name alongside his, feeling a sense of pride and camaraderie in the shared moment.

as mr. nero’s voice filled the classroom, announcing the upcoming event proposed by the art club, the room buzzed with excitement.

“attention, students! i’m pleased to announce that the art club has proposed an extraordinary event. it is a school-wide art exhibition centered around the theme of ‘strings of affection: capturing love’s melodies,’” mr. nero declared, his tone brimming with enthusiasm.

“this exhibition aims to delve into the complexities of love and its complex manifestations.” whispers and murmurs erupted among the students, excitement evident in the air.

“during the exhibition, each participating student will have the opportunity to display their artwork in the school gallery,” mr. nero continued, gesturing to a large poster board adorned with colorful flyers. “artworks can include paintings, drawings, sculptures, photography- anything that captures the essence of love.”

sitting at the back of the class, you found yourself lost in thought, your fingers fidgeting anxiously under the table. “the theme encourages exploration of various aspects of love, including romantic love, familial bonds, friendships, and self-love,” mr. nero elaborated, his voice carrying a note of significance. “we encourage each of you to delve deep into your hearts and minds to convey your unique interpretations of love through your artwork.”

the idea of participating in the art exhibition sparked a mix of excitement and apprehension within you. could you summon the courage to explore such a profound theme and share your interpretation of love with the entire school?

glancing around the room, you noticed people exchanging excited whispers with their friends, their eyes alight with anticipation, whereas the others were nodding to each other in silent agreement, perhaps contemplating their own interpretations of love for their submissions.

despite the lively chatter filling the room, you felt a sense of isolation, the weight of your decision resting solely on your shoulders. as mr. nero concluded his announcement and the chatter in the classroom continued, you found yourself lost in thought, pondering the depth of love and whether you were ready to explore it through your art.

as you sat there, wrestling with your decision about whether to join the art exhibition, the note you found in your bag earlier suddenly came to mind. pulling it out, you studied the words written on it, feeling a pang of uncertainty.

lost in your contemplation, you were startled when a paper plane soared through the air, landing neatly on your desk. with curious fingers, you unfolded it, revealing a short message scrawled across the paper.

“gonna join? - R”

your gaze darted around the classroom, searching for the sender, until you locked eyes with rafayel, who was seated at the center front. heat rose to your cheeks as you quickly stuffed the crumpled note back into your pocket, pursing your lips. you redirected your attention to the unfolded paper plane, hoping to conceal your flustered reaction.

for a brief moment, rafayel’s eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. it dawned on him that the note you hastily concealed was the same one he had written and placed in your bag the day he stumbled upon your sketchbook.

as you exchanged a smile with rafayel, a wave of warmth washed over you, mingled with a tinge of uncertainty about the mysterious note and the unexpected connection it represented.

rafayel couldn’t shake the desire to speak with you directly, to bridge the gap between them rather than relying on secretive notes. but with gour classmates constantly surrounding him, initiating a conversation without drawing attention to you was a challenge.

turning to his friend thomas, rafayel leaned in close, whispering urgently, “hey, can you do me a favor? tell her to meet me at the rooftop during breaktime.”

thomas raised an eyebrow, shooting rafayel a curious look. “what am i, your loyal butler or something? why don’t you just talk to her yourself?”

rafayel sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i don’t want to make it seem like a big deal, you know? plus, it might be less suspicious if it’s coming from you.”

thomas groaned, shaking his head. “you’re hopeless- really hopeless. but since it appears i have no other choice, i’ll pass on the message. just don’t screw it up, yeah?”

as thomas approached you, confusion was etched on your face as you greeted him awkwardly. “oh- hey... what is it?”

he cracked a small grin, noticing your confusion. “hey there. that insufferable purple-haired guy at the front wanted me to let you know to meet him at the rooftop later during break time," he explained while gesturing towards rafayel, his tone friendly.

your eyes widened slightly at the unexpected message, and you stammered out a reply, “huh? oh, uh, okay. thanks for telling me.”

with a casual wave, thomas returned to rafayel, leaving you in contemplative silence. as your gaze lingered on their interaction, rafayel’s eyes remained fixed on you, adding a layer of intrigue to the message delivered through thomas.

perched on the rooftop, you found solace in the quiet surroundings, immersed in the act of sketching. the image of a sleeping cat with a delicate flower petal atop its head unfolded gracefully on the pages of your sketchbook, each stroke carefully crafted.

lost in your artistic reverie, you failed to sense rafayel's stealthy approach from behind. just as he was poised to startle you with a playful “boo,” your world shattered into chaos as you swung around in alarm, inadvertently smacking him in the face with your sketchbook.

the moment hung in the air, frozen in time, as rafayel recoiled in surprise, his hand instinctively rising to cradle his nose. wide-eyed and mortified, you stammered out an apology, “oh my gosh, rafayel! i-i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to-”

caught off guard, rafayel playfully teased, “well, that's one way to say hello, isn’t it? didn’t know my face doubled as a notebook magnet.”

you blushed, flustered by the unexpected collision, “i really didn’t mean to hit you, rafayel. sorry...!”

his laughter echoed, resonating with an easygoing charm, “no harm done. i’ve endured worse for a good laugh. besides, it’s about time someone hit me with a notebook- adds a bit of excitement to my day.”

rafayel’s curiosity piqued as he pointed to your sketchbook, asking, “what’s that you’re writing?” you hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to reveal your secret passion, but his playful curiosity was too infectious to resist. “oh, it’s just some sketches,” you replied softly, flipping through the pages to reveal the drawing of the cat you saw earlier.

rafayel leaned in, genuine curiosity evident in his eyes as he examined the drawing. “whoa... you drew this? that’s really good!”

you felt a rush of relief at his positive reaction, showing him the reference photo you took earlier. “yeah, i saw this cat on my way to school this morning and couldn’t resist sketching it."

his grin widened as he glanced between the drawing and the photo, barely even noticing any differences. “you’ve got some serious talent, you know that?”

feeling awkward at the unexpected compliment, you muttered a shy thank you, feeling a sense of warmth spreading in the midst of your quiet rooftop rendezvous.

“makes me wonder... why aren’t you part of the art club?” not expecting rafayel’s sudden question, you chuckled nervously. “well, you know, i’m just really busy with school and stuff.”

rafayel didn’t seem convinced. “is that really the reason?” he inquired softly, his tone genuine and caring. you hesitated, feeling reluctant. “actually, i’m just... i’m a bit self-conscious about my skills. i don’t really want anyone to find out about it.”

rafayel’s expression softened, understanding evident in his eyes. “may i?” he asked, reaching for your sketchbook. nodding silently, you watched as he flipped through every page, his eyes widening in genuine surprise and admiration. he lingered over each artwork, appreciating the detail and emotion captured in your sketches.

as he closed the sketchbook and placed it back on the ground, he uttered words that struck a sense of familiarity within you.

“the world deserves to witness how talented you are, you know?”

your heart skipped a beat at his words, a memory surfacing of the note you had found in your bag after that day you fell asleep in school. it said the exact same thing. before you could inquire further, rafayel stood up and reached out to you. confused yet intrigued, you took his hand, and without hesitation, he led you on a journey through the school, eventually arriving at the art room.

as you stood there, taking in the familiar sights of the art supplies and canvases, rafayel turned to you with a warm smile. “i thought maybe you could use a little encouragement to share your talent with the world,” he explained softly. you blinked in confusion. “what are we doing here?”

rafayel’s smile was gentle as he took your hand, placing a paintbrush in one and a palette in the other. he led you towards the largest canvas in the room. “what am i supposed to do...?” you inquired, tilting your head in puzzlement.

rafayel’s smile widened as he picked up a paintbrush and palette for himself. “do what you do best,” he replied. “huh?”

with a sense of determination, rafayel painted a bold black line down the center of the canvas, separating it into two distinct halves. “every five minutes, we’ll switch and continue each other’s paintings,” he explained, his voice calm yet full of purpose.

you nodded, intrigued by the challenge, and began your half of the canvas with soft, lighthearted portraits and delicate strokes. your colors were gentle and inviting, focusing on capturing the essence and aura of the subjects with a sense of warmth and innocence.

as the minutes passed, you and rafayel seamlessly switched, each adding your own touches to the other’s work. rafayel’s side of the canvas was a masterpiece of emotion and complexity, with mesmerizing details and layers of meaning poured into every stroke.

“you’re quite the artist, you know,” rafayel remarked as he added a flourish to your portrait, his tone praising. you blushed at the compliment, unsure how to respond.

somewhere in the middle of the exchange, rafayel not-so-accidentally brushed a small portion of paint onto your cheek. “oops, my hand slipped-”

and so did yours, it appears, as you left a mark of paint on his nose. you stifled a chuckle as you feigned innocence, “um, sorry,” you murmured, your voice soft yet sarcastic.

rafayel laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “congrats- you’ve officially caught me off guard!” he teased, his tone lighthearted.

as the playful exchange continued, each stroke of paint serving as a reminder of your shared connection, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth spreading in your chest. it was as if, in this moment, you were shedding your inhibitions and embracing the joy of simply being yourself around rafayel.

and as the final touches were added and you both stepped back to admire the masterpiece you had created together, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment. little did you know, as you looked at the painting, rafayel was looking at you with admiration in his eyes, captivated by the quiet strength and beauty he saw reflected in you.

"so, about that note...” you began tentatively, but rafayel cut you off with a nonchalant, “yeah, that was me,” accompanied by a shrug and a playful grin.

“you...?” surprise tinged your voice as you glanced at him, and rafayel nodded with a hint of mischief, pointing to himself.

“i mean, seriously though, you’re really talented. if you joined the club, you could totally be running the show instead of me,” rafayel suggested, his tone a blend of sincerity and teasing.

“i can’t tell if you’re trying to flatter me or if you’re trying to recruit a new member for your club...” you replied with a small chuckle, earning a grin from rafayel.

“oh, come on, i’ve already got a bunch of members, most of whom couldn’t care less about art. it’s a bit frustrating, to be honest- it’s like they’re not even there to appreciate the beauty of art in the first place,” rafayel lamented, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation.

“maybe they’re just there for you,” you offered, watching as rafayel nodded in acknowledgment, his expression thoughtful. “it’s not as glamorous as it seems, you know? being popular means you’re always in the spotlight, whether you like it or not. it’s exhausting,” rafayel admitted with a sigh, his frustration evident.

“so, that’s the price of popularity...” you mused, feeling a pang of sympathy for rafayel’s predicament.

“that’s why you caught my eye. you never seemed to crave that attention, and i found that refreshing.” rafayel confessed, his tone softening as he opened up to you. “i wanted to get to know someone who saw me for me, not just as who i’m made out to be.”

“huh?” you murmured, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity at his words.

“i’ve always admired how you kept to yourself, not letting the whole popularity thing affect you. it made me want to know more about you,” rafayel explained, his gaze holding a hint of something deeper that intrigued you.

“so... what do you mean?” you asked, your curiosity piqued by rafayel’s candid confession. he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he considered his words. “y’know, it’s just... these days, it feels like everyone is so caught up in their social status, popularity, reputation, you name it. and despite never wanting to be, i’ve been pushed into the center of all that because of the way people are way too interested in my life,” he explained, his voice tinged with frustration.

“people like you, who are genuine and don’t use others as stepping stones to become popular, are rare.” rafayel continued, his gaze meeting yours with sincerity. “your presence feels like a breath of fresh air in a world where everyone is so focused on climbing the social ladder.”

oh. “i never expected someone to see me that way...” you admitted, your eyes meeting rafayel’s with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. his expression softened as he listened, his gaze filled with understanding. “i guess we both had our assumptions about each other,” he mused.

you nodded in agreement, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “the reason why i least expected you to be the one who put that note in my bag was because i always felt like we orbited in separate galaxies," you admitted, and rafayel listened carefully.

“it was as if you stood under the sun, whereas i found solace in the dark. i’ve always admired the way you easily socialized and blended in with the crowd, wishing it was something i could do, too.”

rafayel’s eyes widened slightly in surprise at your words, and you felt a rush of nerves at having laid bare your innermost thoughts to him. but as you saw the understanding and empathy in his gaze, you knew you had made the right decision in sharing your feelings with him.

“but now, knowing your perspective regarding your popularity, i feel like my perspective has just changed as a whole,” you added, your voice soft but earnest.

“maybe we’re not as different as we thought, huh?” he said, an amused expression on his face as he suddenly took your hand and held it within his gentle grasp.

“huh...? i...” to say you were at a loss for words and had no idea what to feel over the sudden gesture would be a huge understatement. it didn’t help that holding your hand seemed to be something casual to rafayel, either. “i guess...” you trailed off, looking down on the ground to avoid his gaze.

the familiar ringing of the school bells echoed across the walls of the empty art room yet again, cutting your conversation short – like it always did. yet this time, you were grateful for it. had it not interrupted both of you, you’d be a stammering mess by now.

rafayel let go of your hand, putting one of his hands in his pocket. “i’ll see your name somewhere at the art exhibit, then?” he tilted his head, sending you a wink before heading out, leaving you all by yourself as you looked at the large canvas in front of you once more.

perhaps grabbing an opportunity standing right in front of you wouldn’t be so bad, just this once.

—

it had been three nights. three nights of you frustratingly ripping pages off of your sketchbook simply because your ideas kept clashing with each other everytime you laid it out on the pieces of paper sprawled out in front of you. your artworks were merely a product of your own will – none of which were required for a specific occasion, at least not until now.

love.

how were you supposed to convey the meaning of a feeling you weren’t sure you have ever felt in your entire life? not even the romance books stacked up in your shelves could make up for an inspiration. within each tick of the clock, the day of the art exhibit kept inching closer, making you dread every passing second.

letting out a frustrated sigh as you laid your head down on your study table, you were no longer sure if you still wanted to participate in the event anymore. maybe you should’ve just shut down rafayel’s expectations of you partaking in the art exhibit while it was still early – hold on.

that was it. that was exactly it. if you needed to seek guidance from someone whose field of expertise is art, there was no longer a necessity for searching all over your surroundings – the answer was already right in front of you.

you weren’t sure when his contact number got on your phone, but you were grateful for it nonetheless – maybe he added it during your collaboration in the art room while your attention was focused on something else. dialing the number, you waited patiently for him to pick up as you bit the inside of your cheek.

“what up, buttercup?”

the unexpected lowering of the pitch of his voice, void of its usual sarcasm and sass, caught you off guard. it carried a hint of raspiness, a sign he might have been roused from sleep. and suddenly, regaining composure became a priority for you.

“oh- did i interrupt your sleep? i’m sorry, i’ll-” he was quick to cut you off from the other line, immediately brushing off your concern. “nah, don’t worry about it. what’s gotten you all up late in the night, though?” he asked curiously.

“um, well, you see,” you stammered, struggling to articulate your frustration. “regarding the art exhibit event you and your club launched... i just can’t seem to find the right way to express... love,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

rafayel’s curiosity piqued. “why’s that?” he inquired gently, sensing the weight behind your words. “i don’t know,” you admitted, feeling a pang of embarrassment. “it’s just... how do you convey a feeling you’ve never experienced?”

there was a brief silence on the other end of the line before rafayel spoke again, his voice softer than before. “you mean... you’ve never fallen in love before?” he asked, a hint of surprise evident in his tone.

reluctantly, you confirmed his assumption with a quiet nod, even though he couldn’t see you. rafayel let out a soft sigh, the sound conveying both understanding and reassurance.

truth be told, that was the last thing he had expected to hear from you – but then again, the world’s always full of surprises, isn’t it?

“hey, no shame in that, yeah? we’ll find a way for you,” he said gently. “meet me tomorrow morning at linkon tower?”

your heart fluttered at the prospect of his help, and you agreed eagerly, grateful for his support. “okay,” you replied, a sense of relief washing over you. “thank you, rafayel...”

“anything for you.”

—

as you stood waiting in front of linkon tower, the morning breeze tousling your hair, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach. the anticipation of meeting rafayel was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking, and you found yourself fidgeting with the strap of your bag as you scanned the area.

suddenly, you spotted rafayel running towards you,an apologetic expression on his face and two cups of coffee in his hands. “fashionably late, as always,” he quipped, his tone light as he caught his breath.

you couldn’t help but smile at his teasing remark, a mixture of relief and amusement washing over you. “i was starting to think you’d gotten lost in the crowd...”

rafayel chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes as he approached you. “nah, just had to battle my way through the caffeine-deprived masses,” he replied, holding out one of the cups of coffee to you. “one caramel latte, just how you like it- hopefully.”

you accepted the coffee with a grateful smile, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his thoughtfulness. “oh- for me? thank you...!” you said softly, taking a sip of the steaming beverage.

he flashed you a charming grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “no need to thank me at all. like i said last night- anything for you, right?”

blushing at his words, you couldn’t help but feel a need to change the topic. “so... what's the plan for today?” you asked, eager to find out what creative ideas Rafayel had in mind.

he shrugged casually, taking a sip of his own coffee. “well, i thought we could take a stroll around the park, soak in some inspiration from nature,” he suggested, his tone relaxed. “unless you have any other brilliant ideas up your sleeve?”

you shook your head with a shy smile, feeling grateful for the way he took the lead. “no, that sounds perfect,” you replied, falling into step beside him as you set off towards the nearby park. as you walked, the gentle chatter between you and rafayel filled the air, the warmth of the morning sun casting a golden glow over your skin.

while taking your time to admire your surroundings, your eyes then caught sight of a cat sitting on a bench. gasping in awe, you couldn’t help but to tug on the sleeve of his cardigan, immediately pointing to it- and the next thing you knew was he was practically holding onto you for dear life, looking at the creature with a horrified expression on his face.

you stifled a chuckle, not expecting the sudden action from rafayel out of all people. “rafayel, are you, perhaps... scared of cats?” you tilted your head, waiting for an answer. “scared? hah, please, like i’d ever- get it away from me!”

you held up the cat in front of him, laughing as you watched him hurriedly take a few steps back. he was about to completely turn his back to you in fear of getting scratched by the feline’s claws, but it wasn’t until he came to realization that this was the first time he has ever heard you laugh – all he’s ever heard from you were short giggles and stifled chuckles.

he admired you in awe without even realization dawning upon him that he was, staring at you as you kept inching the cat closer to him. “you do know it’s more afraid of us than we are of it, right?”

your voice pulled him out of the bottom of his thoughts, making him flinch slightly as he tried to play off the fact he just called you beautiful in his head.

he feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart in mock indignation. “oh, please, don’t underestimate the cunning behavior of these creatures,” he replied with a smirk. “they may look innocent, but behind those whiskers lie a mastermind plotting world domination.”

you couldn’t help but find his dramatic antis childish, yet couldn’t suppress your laughter. “alright, fine, i’ll handle this dangerous mission myself," you joked, putting the cat back down on the ground.

as you practically dragged Rafayel towards the ice cream parlor, his laughter echoed through the air. “woah, slow down! i didn’t know it was possible to love ice cream this much.” he remarked, amusement all over his eyes.

you flashed him a bright smile in return. “don’t we all?” you replied, unable to contain your excitement as you joined the line behind a group of eager kids. while waiting for your turn, the sweet aroma of freshly made ice cream filled the air, making your mouth almost water in anticipation. rafayel observed your enthusiasm with a fond smile, clearly amused by your excitement.

finally, it was your turn to order, and you wasted no time selecting a combination of three of your favorite flavors. as the server handed you your towering cone, you struggled to balance it in your hands, wanting not to let a single scoop go to waste.

rafayel chuckled at your efforts. “looks like you’ve got your hands full there,” he teased, buying the same flavors you had chosen. “i’ll have the same, just in case yours decides to take a tumble.”

—

while you and rafayel were strolling along, you stumbled upon an old vendor selling flowers. the vendor greeted both of you warmly, a twinkle of nostalgia in his eyes. “one for your lovely lady, sir?” he asked, gesturing towards you with a knowing smile. yet before you could interject and clarify that you weren't a couple, rafayel was quick to respond, his voice charming. “i’ll have a bouquet, if you may,” he said with a playful wink, catching you off guard.

“huh? rafayel, you-” his actions caught you by surprise, making you stumble over your words. yet even if you wanted to clarify your relationship with rafayel to the old man, you found yourself not doing so, having a feeling that no matter how you tried to deny it, rafayel would eventually find a way to brush your reasonings off. and you weren’t even sure why he’d do such a thing- you just knew he would.

as the vendor handed rafayel a beautiful bouquet, he offered a nostalgic reflection. “ah young love. you two remind me of me and my wife during the days we were still young... I hope the best for both of you,” he said with heartfelt sincerity.

rafayel played along effortlessly, nodding in agreement. “i hope so too, sir.” he replied with a grin, accepting the bouquet with a flourish.

as you both walked away from the vendor, you couldn't help but be confused at the unexpected exchange. before you could question rafayel about his actions, he leaned into the playful act even further, bowing theatrically in front of you.

“for you, my lady.” he said with mock formality, offering you the bouquet with a mischievous hint in his eyes. you couldn’t suppress a laugh as you accepted the flowers. “well... while, thank you, kind sir,” you tried to reply with equal playfulness, making rafayel laugh in response.

—

inside the arcade, the bright lights and buzzing sounds of the games immediately filled the air, igniting a sense of excitement within you both. making your way to the claw machine, rafayel insisted on taking the first turn, his determination evident in the way he eagerly inserted coins and maneuvered the claw.

you watched with amusement while he focused intently on the task at hand, heavily concentrated as he attempted to win you a plushie. but despite his persistence, the claw came up empty-handed each time, much to his dismay.

as the claw machine swallowed another round of coins, rafayel’s competitive spirit seemed undeterred. “alright, watch closely,” he declared while positioning the claw with precision. you couldn't help but admire his persistence, even as the plushie continued to escape his grasp. “you’ve got this,” you encouraged him, unable to contain a smile at his unwavering focus.

but as the claw went down for yet another attempt, rafayel’s expression shifted from confidence to disbelief as it once again came up empty. “what?! how did i miss that?!” he exclaimed, his frustration evident as he shook his head in disbelief.

with each failed attempt, rafayel’s facade of confidence began to crack, replaced by exaggerated frustration and protests. “this machine is rigged, i’m telling you!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “it’s like it’s got a personal vendetta against me or something.”

you couldn’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “um, maybe you should let me have a go at it?” you suggested, feeling a rush of nervousness as rafayel turned to look at you. he raised an eyebrow challengingly, a playful glint in his eyes. “oh, you think you can do any better, huh?” he teased, already stepping aside to let you take your turn.

with a small smile, you approached the machine, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. as you focused on the task at hand, you couldn't help but feel rafayel’s eyes on you, his presence both comforting and slightly unnerving at the same time. you maneuvered the claw into position, holding your breath as you watched it go down towards the plushie of your choice. and then, with a satisfying clink, the claw closed around the prize, lifting it triumphantly into the air.

you couldn’t contain your joy as you retrieved the plushie from the machine, holding it up for rafayel to see with a huge smile. “i did it!” you celebrated enthusiastically, feeling a warm flush spreading across your cheeks as rafayel grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“incredible!” rafayel exclaimed, his tone filled with mock astonishment. “i’ve officially been defeated by the claw machine champion.”

—

as the afternoon came to an end, while the sun painted the city in hues of gold, rafayel casually inquired, “so, where do you live?” your head tilted in puzzlement, not quite catching what he meant until he clarified, “i’m gonna walk you home.”

you felt your heart flutter, your cheeks warming at the unexpected offer. “oh, um, it’s not far from here...” you responded, a smile tugging at your lips. rafayel’s grin widened, his gaze softening as he gestured for you to lead the way. “lead the way then, my dear companion,” he teased, falling into step beside you as you started walking.

as you walked through the familiar streets, a comfortable silence enveloped you both. yet, it was rafayel who broke it, his voice carrying a playful lilt. “sooo, did you enjoy our little date today?” he asked, his tone light yet filled with genuine curiosity.

a small chuckle escaped your lips as you nodded, feeling a warmth spreading through you. “of course i did. thank you for spending the day with me, rafayel...” you replied, stealing a glance at him.

it seems as if the fact he called it a date completely went over your head – and could anyone blame you if you were just happy enough to spend the day with him that you no longer cared whether it was a friendly date or something else?

rafayel’s smile softened, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. “anytime.” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “we should definitely do this again sometime.”

you felt a flutter in your chest at his words, your heart skipping a beat as you nodded in agreement. “yeah... i’d like that.” you agreed softly, a shy smile creeping up your lips. the walk continued, each step bringing you closer to your destination.

—

you two stood in front of your apartment building, and as you bid farewell to each other, you waved at him with a close-eyed smile.

rafayel swore his heart had never raced faster than it did now.

just as you were about to walk away, he held you back by your wrist, halting your movements. “wait.” you took a step back. “rafayel...?” you tilted your head in confusion as you turned to face him. his hand was still holding onto your wrist, and as he stood there, holding your wrist gently, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. He cleared his throat, “i was going to wait until the art exhibit event was over to say this to you, but... screw that. i don’t think i can wait any longer.”

“what do you mean...?” you asked, not quite getting what he was implying.

“well,” he began, his voice no longer laced with his trademark sarcasm. “i’ve got a confession to make.” He paused, taking a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts, his gaze never leaving you. “from the moment i first saw you sleeping at the very back of the classroom while everyone was busy talking in separate groups, something inside me shifted. it was as if the universe intended to bring us together, to intertwine our lives in a way that i couldn't comprehend at the time.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words, curiosity mingling with anticipation as you waited for him to continue. “you see,“ rafayel went on, his tone softening ever so slightly. “i never knew why i felt so drawn to you that day even though i didn’t even know anything about you- there was just something about you that made stare at you a little longer than i was supposed to.” he paused, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he recalled the countless times he had looked behind to see whether you were gazing out the window, writing down notes, or sleeping.

“you know, i’ve spent all this time trying to figure out why you just seemed to be so different from everyone else in my eyes. and maybe you’re wondering why- but that’s the thing. neither do i know.” you listened, captivated by the sincerity in his words, the layers of his personality laying bare before you.

“and then it hit me.”

rafayel continued, a warmth spreading through his chest as he spoke. “i’ve watched you, admired you, in ways that i can’t quite put into words- way before i even saw your sketchbook lying down on the ground.” rafayel confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “getting to know you even further with each passing day from then on was the nail in the coffin, you know? as i got to know you better through time, i just- the next thing i knew was i wanted to have more excuses to spend time with you.” he ran his hands through his hair, a soft expression on his face as you listened with surprise.

“your kindness, your warmth, your quiet strength, the way you’re always trying to view every circumstance you come across in a positive light, the way you’re... you. they’ve captivated me in ways i never thought possible.” you listened, your heart racing with his words, the air heavy with the weight of the unspoken. he took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving you.

“i don’t even know when, how, and why i started feeling this way. all i knew the moment i first heard you chuckle quietly at the back of the class that one time thomas and i were arguing over which of our answers to the equation mr. nero wrote on the board- neither were correct, by the way- was that if it ever became louder, i wanted to be the reason behind it.”

“you’re making it so hard for me not to fall for you, and as i stand in front of you now, i’m proudly declaring that i’ll be admitting my defeat.”

as rafayel’s words hung in the air, you stood there in disbelief, finding it hard to make his words sink in. and then it all came crashing down on you. the overwhelming surge of happiness you felt when you were adding your own touches on his artwork that one day at the art room wasn’t just a feeling of being glad you were finally able to express your talent in a way that isn’t scribbling on your sketchbook – it was because the feeling of being comfortable with letting your guard down around someone who wasn’t tara was an unfamiliar yet great experience for you.

the reason why you always found yourself staring at him in class wasn’t because you were curious as to how popular people like him lived their lives; you weren’t curious about his lifestyle, but rather... you were curious about him as a person.

“rafayel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the rustle of the leaves. “i... i never knew... i never dared to hope...” but before you could finish, rafayel reached out, cupping your face in his hands, his touch gentle yet electrifying. “you don’t have to. just... let yourself loose, yeah?” rafayel’s gaze softens, his hand still gently holding yours as he waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts.

“it’s just... it’s a lot to take in.” you finally manage, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you admit your struggle to process his heartfelt confession. “but...” you pause, biting your lip nervously as you try to find the courage to voice the thoughts racing through your mind.

“but what?” rafayel prompts gently, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. “it’s just... everything makes sense now,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush as you finally allow yourself to let out the thoughts you had buried deep inside.

“that day in the art room, when we were working on that huge canvas, i thought i was just happy to be able to express myself through art... but now i realize it was more than that. it was the feeling of being comfortable with someone other than tara, of letting my guard down and just... being myself without having to afraid of being judged.”

rafayel listened intently, his expression softening with each word you speak. “and in class, when i would find myself staring at you... i always thought it was just curiosity about how someone like you lived their life. but now i see it was something more. i was curious about you as a person, and whatever you were hiding beneath your usual personality, i just... i wanted to know all about it.”

“i don’t know when, how, or why it all started either, but... all i know right now is that... i want to be with you, rafayel.”

a blush crept across your cheeks as you finished speaking, your gaze dropping to the ground as you awaited rafayel’s response. but before you can look up, you feel his hand gently lifting your chin, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that sent shivers down your spine. “you know...” he said softly, his voice filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “i’m glad you feel that way. because... well, because I've been feeling the same way about you for a long time now- if that wasn’t obvious already.”

as the weight of your shared confessions hangs in the air, there’s a palpable tension between you and rafayel. slowly, almost hesitantly, he leans in closer, his breath mingling with yours as his lips hover just inches from yours.

your heart races in your chest, a nervous feeling fluttering spreading through your stomach as you anticipate what’s about to happen. and then, in a moment that feels both infinitely long and short at the same time, his lips finally meet yours.

it’s soft at first, a gentle brush of his lips against yours, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. but then, as the realization sinks in that this is your very first kiss, the sensation intensifies. his lips mold perfectly against yours, fitting together like two puzzle pieces finally finding their match. there’s a warmth that spreads from the point of contact, igniting a fire deep within you that you never knew existed.

as the kiss deepens, you find yourself melting into him, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips moving against yours. his hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the moment, the world around you fading away until there’s nothing left but the two of you and the overwhelming rush of emotion coursing through your veins.

and then, as the kiss came to an end, you’re left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as you finally pull away, your lips tingling with the memory of his touch.

“rafayel, i...” you mumble, cheeks ablaze with a crimson hue that refused to fade. he chuckled warmly, his hand ruffling your hair affectionately. “you’re too cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

your response came out as a nervous stutter, your words stumbling over each other as you try to process the rush of emotions flooding through you. he gently pinches your cheeks, eliciting a short laugh from you. “hey now, none of that,” he playfully scolds, a playful sparkle swirling in his eyes. “unless you want me to die or something.”

you blush even deeper at his teasing, unable to find a clever retort. instead, you offer a sheepish smile, your heart fluttering at his words. as you bid farewell once more, the memory of his kiss still lingering on your lips, you turn to head inside the apartment building. but before you do, you steal one last glance back at rafayel, waving at him with a shy smile.

he returns the gesture, a soft smile gracing his features as he watches you disappear inside, leaving you with a fluttering heart and a head full of thoughts of him.

—

you lay on your bed, cheeks still flushed with the warmth of the kiss and your heart pounding with excitement. unable to contain your bubbling emotions, you bury your face in your pillow and let out a muffled squeal, the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

just as you start to calm yourself down, your phone’s notification jingle breaks the silence, causing your heart to skip a beat. with trembling hands, you grab your phone and glance at the lockscreen, where a message from Rafayel awaits.

“looking forward to seeing ur art exhibit project ;)”

your cheeks flushed even deeper at his message, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you quickly unlock your phone and type a reply, fingers flying over the screen as you try to contain your excitement.

“i guess you weren't lying when you said i’d head home with a newfound inspiration... ～⁠(⁠つ⁠ˆ⁠Д⁠ˆ⁠)⁠つ⁠｡⁠☆”

on the other side of the screen, rafayel chuckled softly at your message, finding the kaomoji you sent along with it absolutely adorable. with a smile, he typed out his reply, reminiscing about the intimate moment you shared earlier before parting ways.

“see? that’s why it’s always the best choice to trust me in every possible situation.”

he replied, his message feigning smugness. you couldn’t help but giggle at his response, feeling a warm flutter in your chest at his playful demeanor.

“as much as i want to talk to you for longer, i still have to get my art exhibit project finished (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)”

rafayel’s lips curled into a small smile as he read your message.

“why not go to sleep now? we can always talk more tomorrow, yeah?”

and despite the simplicity of his suggestion, you couldn’t resist the urge to internally scream with excitement.

—

while they strolled through the venue, thomas couldn’t resist teasing rafayel about his frequent glances towards the entrance. with an amused smirk, he nudged rafayel, arching an eyebrow in curiosity.

“looking for someone, raf?” rafayel’s response was casual, though his eyes betrayed a hint of anticipation. “just curious if she’s made it here yet.” thomas followed rafayel’s line of sight, scanning the bustling crowd. “haven’t seen her around yet,” he responded. rafayel continued to scan the room, his gaze lingering on each passing figure in search of a familiar face.

meanwhile, as you hurried into the venue, tara spotted you and dashed over, enveloping you in a tight hug. “hey, where have you been? you’re late!” you chuckled sheepishly, “i may or may not have overslept...” tara only pinched your cheek, seemingly unsurprised by your response.

“also- there’s that one painting over there that everyone’s been admiring for a while now, and the art style seemed very familiar to me... that one’s yours, right? please say it is!” tara’s eyes sparkled with excitement. with a shy smile, you nodded. “yeah, i finally decided to share my work...” tara squealed in delight, squeezing you even tighter as she practically squealed in your ear how proud she was of you.

as she guided you through the crowd to your painting, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves. but when your eyes met rafayel’s across the room, a wave of warmth washed over you, calming your nerves. tara caught your eye contact with rafayel, turning to you with a puzzled expression. “do you two know each other?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

you nodded shyly, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. tara’s expression shifted from confusion to surprise in an instant. “wait, don’t tell me... he’s the anonymous person behind that note you found in your bag, isn’t he?” she exclaimed, her eyes widening in realization.

with a knowing smile, you simply nodded, causing tara to gasp in disbelief. “oh my gosh! no way! are you sure you’re not living in a shoujo manga?” she teased, her excitement evident in her voice. but underneath her teasing, you could sense her genuine happiness for you.

meanwhile, thomas noticed rafayel’s gaze fixed on you and couldn’t resist nudging him with a smirk. “there’s your girl, go get her.” he teased, earning an eye-roll from rafayel.

as they both approached you and tara, the lingering memory of yesterday’s kiss remained fresh in your minds – and it was painfully obvious with the way you two were stumbling over your own words. thomas couldn’t contain his laughter. “look at rafayel all flustered...” he chuckled, thoroughly amused by his friend’s uncharacteristic behavior.

tara, on the other hand, was practically squealing with delight at the romantic encounter unfolding before her eyes. “they’re so cute together...!” she whispered to herself, barely able to contain her excitement.

sensing the need for some privacy, thomas grabbed rafayel’s attention, patting his shoulder. “i’ll go ahead and check the other artworks.” tara quickly followed suit, declaring her sudden need to visit the bathroom, leaving you and rafayel alone in front of your painting.

as the curious gazes of the surrounding students lingered on the two of you, rafayel turned to you with genuine interest. “so, are those lovers in each petal supposed to represent us?” he asked, his tone filled with curiosity as he pointed to a petal that had a painting of two people eating ice cream.

you nodded, feeling a rush of warmth at his question. “yeah... i painted each scene with us in mind.” you admitted, feeling a bit shy but also strangely exhilarated by his interest. rafayel’s eyes shone with appreciation as he examined the beautiful details of your artwork. “wow, you’re really...” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine admiration as he seemed to be out of words. “you have such an amazing talent, you know that?”

you couldn’t help but smile at his heartfelt comment, feeling a surge of confidence in your abilities. “you think so...?”

“know so.”

“i swear, one day my lighthearted jokes about you being the next president of the art club will come true to life. i wouldn’t even be surprised, you know?” he teased, flashing you a charming grin that made your heart skip a beat.

as you and rafayel left your painting behind to explore the other artworks, the eyes of the gathered students followed your every move. some watched in surprise, their eyebrows raised in curiosity as you were engaged in a conversation with rafayel. others couldn’t contain their excitement, their voices tinted with squeals of delight as they observed the unlikely dynamic between the two of you.

“oh my gosh, look at them! they’re so adorable together...” one girl whispered to her friend, nudging her with an elbow as she pointed discreetly at the two of you. “i know, right? who would’ve thought they’d make such a cute couple?” her friend replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“did you see the way he looked at her? it’s like she’s the only one in the room!” one of them remarked, her heart fluttering at the sight. “and she’s glowing! i’ve never seen someone look so beautiful before.” another girl added, a sense of joy evident in her tone as she observed your interaction with rafayel.

nearby, a group of boys exchanged knowing glances, their expressions filled with admiration for rafayel’s ability to break through your shell. “man, rafayel’s really got it going on with her.” one of them remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice as he watched you two interact.

“yeah, but look at her, she’s holding her own too. rafayel’s really lucky, isn’t he?” another boy added, nodding approvingly as he watched you converse with rafayel. "have you ever seen anyone as radiant as her?” one of them whispered, captivated by your presence.

“she’s like a living artwork herself.” another remarked, admiring the way you seemed to bring color and life to the atmosphere surrounding both you and rafayel.

“i heard she’s the one behind that stunning painting. makes sense, she’s got such a creative aura about her, doesn’t she?” a third boy commented, impressed by your artistic talents and the way you expressed yourself through your work.

as the crowd’s whispers of admiration reached your ears, rafayel couldn’t help but grin, turning to you with a proud gleam in his eyes. “you hear that?” he said softly, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “told you the world deserves to witness how talented you are.”

you felt a warm flush of gratitude spread through you at his words, grateful for his unwavering support. with a shy smile, you nodded, feeling a newfound sense of confidence blooming within you. “thank you, rafayel- for everything, really.” you whispered, feeling a surge of appreciation for the boy who had helped you break out of your shell and embrace your true potential.

and you’ll forever be grateful for having him in your life.

♡ , cupidswan.

#love : aerith 💌#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #rafayel #l&ds rafayel #rafayel fluff #lnd x reader #lnds #l&ds x reader #l&ds

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inbarfink · 7 months

Text

Oh glob, can you imagine what the Tragic Story of the Winterworld version of Marceline?

Because we know she and the Winter King has the same sort of Simon and Marcy backstory as their Mainworld counterparts.

But in the ‘present day’ she’s nowhere to be found, but her beloved Axe-Bass is and it was given to an icy duplicate of her child self

So this Marceline must’ve gone through all of the same heartbreak with her version of Simon - watching him slowly lose himself to the Madness of the Crown, being abandoned by him, avoiding him because she couldn't bare to see him so sad and mad and such a shadow of the man who took care of her.

And then suddenly Simon is back, and he seems so happy now and Marceline must’ve been so happy too. But it couldn’t have taken her that long to find out what he did. Who paid the price for the Winter King’s power and happiness.

And if the Winterworld timeline has been identical to the Mainworld up until that divergence point, and since all of this happened a hundred years ago, that would’ve still been when Marceline and Peebles were going through their Breakup Arc. But clearly Marceline still had lingering feelings for Bubblegum. Seeing the man who raised you so kindly commit such a horrendously cruel act for his own personal benefit would be devastating enough. Seeing him do it to the woman you love is just an extra-cruel twist of the knife.

Did Marceline feel responsible? Was she afraid that if she wasn’t constantly running away from Ice King’s attempts to reconnect she could’ve stopped him from stooping so low? Or maybe she felt like she should’ve just taken him out when she had the chance - if only she could’ve let go of her emotional attachment to him?

Since the Winter King says he’s a sane Simon who has freed himself from the mental effects of the Magic Crown - was Marceline afraid that he was always like that? That the sweet man who took care of her was just a front she couldn’t see past due to her young age?

And then, they must’ve had some sort of confrontation, right? The best case scenario is the Winter King defeating her, claiming her most praised possession as his own and banishing her beyond the borders of the Winter Kingdom. The worst case scenario is that the Winter King killed his own beloved daughter because she clashed with his new false frozen paradise.

And either way he replaced her with Ice Marcy - a false construct based on an idealized memory of Marceline as a child - happy and adorable and dependent on him. Someone he can dote over, living like a lil' princess in his winter wonderland

But also someone who will never defy his will again.

If Marceline is still alive, now that Bonnibel is finally free… I wanna hope that maybe hearing about that other Simon, our Simon, who expressed nothing but sympathy and a genuine desire to help towards the Candy Queen - maybe that would bring her some peace of mind. But maybe it would just make her feel even more Conflicted.

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morgan-the-lonely-brick · 7 months

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Hi, I still have so many feelings about this, I will never shut up. I also made a gifset out of it because watching the video wasn't enough, i need to memorize every pixel.

(These gifs are free to download & use, they literally took me 5 minutes, so... cheers~)

"It is your job to f-" still haunts me. Also the way light falls on his face exactly when he fumbles is like him getting exposed. Shining a light on his fakery so the others see through it? And then he retreats back into the shadow trying to hide again, but does so only partially? Amazing.

The quick look up at Fang, he's so adorable🥺 i think for a moment there he actually considers admiting something's wrong but backs out of it and right back into defense. The way he freezes at the end sends shivers down my spine. it's so personal to me, Con, staaahp, fr! Also we get the "unhand me" line, or rather [if you touch me now i will start crying and that's embarrassing so don't touch me] That's how i see it.

Now we get to the good shit. Looking up trying not to cry. Avoiding any and all eye contact. His fckn lips shaking. You can clearly see that he's broken by the fact they've even noticed THIS. That expression is like a defeated "oh fuck me". Him being off focus makes this bit even worse.

Actually I was looking at this bit a lot and it almost seems like he doesn't know what Fang is trying to do at first? Like he was defensive because he didn't realise Fang was going in for a hug? Or maybe it's a reflex for anything coming from behind. He's a fighter, after all.

He looks ahead, approximately where Archie and Jim are standing as if to see their reactions or maybe seek help?! But then you can see the moment he understands - he turns his head back towards Fang and leans into it, with a hint of disbelief on his face.

God, the loose strand of hair adds so much to that delicious skrunklyness he has going on. He's so pretty...

In this gif it's clear he's leaning into Fang a lot, even actively pressing his head against him. He could've easily turned away or pulled away, but didn't. He WANTS to be comforted. He WANTS to be held. The way he scans over Frenchie as if checking what he's about to do, I'm suspecting he like. Put a hand on him somewhere or something of the sort. I am so unwell from this-

For the last time he tries to produce words, but it comes out as more of a moan than anything, so he gives up and bites his lip. (im loosing my sanity, Con, what have you done)

Also Frenchie's pout is my H2O He literally went :c

Izzy looks over to Frenchie again as if to verify he's not there to mock him and when it turns out that no. He actually wants to comfort him. Izzy fully looses it and lets out the most gut wrenching puppy dog skrunkly whimper ever produced by a human man. It must mean so much to him... Those last few micro expressions are killing me. He looks up again as if to say "oh god they mean it. They don't think im stupid for this, they're actually taking me seriously" And he can't believe it, he's so dumbfounded that poor guy.

What if this was his first hug in ages? I wouldn't be surprised...

Im breaking my own heart with this why do i do this-

#Ofmd #ofmd spoilers #Ofmd s2 #Ofmd s2 spoilers #Izzy hands #ofmd frenchie #Ofmd fang #Ofmd izzy

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chubs-deuce · 24 days

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I absolutely adore your art style! It's so beautiful and soft looking! And your Design for Dawn is so so GOOD omg you really did such an amazing job of giving her features of both parents while also still standing out as her own strong character design

I also love your interpretation of Alastor as a father, I feel like I've seen so much of him being like, a shitty dad (and while yeah I could see him being a bad dad, It hurts me because I have a need for soft domestic family fluff 😭) and I just love your take on him!

Bad guys w/ a daughter they're soft for is my bread and butter and UGH your art of them just makes me smile so much because it's SO GOOD

(like the one with him and her having a tea party akayjdgdjwhshe ❤️❤️❤️❤️ like I could just imagine her pulling him by his hand away from something important he was doing and telling him he's been invited and he CANNOT be late and he just rolls with it or something lol)

And the other art you did of Vaggie helping her to learn how to walk and Angel wearing cool sunglasses with her. I can't. Too cute.

But yeah! I just wanted to say thank you for sharing your wonderful art/Headcanons with us :D

And I was also wondering, do you mind if people draw fanart of Dawn? Full credit given, of course.

(also sorry this message got a little all over the place 😅)

lkjsdjkfgsöldkjfgsödlkjgösdfkjgs

omg thank you so much for this?!??! This made me so emo to read omg,, ;w;

I'm so glad you like what I put out about her!!! And I agree!! Soo many people make Al this cold and distant father and like.. I understand where they're coming from, but I personally just can't see him deny an innocent little girl her whims, even more so when it's his own flesh and blood :'3

And imo the whole hotel would pitch in when it comes to raising her so it only made sense to draw other members of the cast interacting with her too :D

ALSO I'D BE DEEPLY HONORED ABOUT ANYONE LIKING HER ENOUGH TO DRAW HER!!!

This goes for any of my OCs tbh!! I never expect anyone to, but it absolutely makes my day when I get to see other people give my characters love in the form of art like that!

Thank you so much for this lovely ask <3<3<3

Have Dawn discovering that her shadow is sentient and putting it to use for shenanigans :'D

(she doesn't yet know that it can deform and strech along walls, she just treats it like kind of a secret buddy until she has better control over it)

Normally a shadow entity like this must be bound via contract, but since Alastor offered up one of his lesser minions during her creation ritual, it reformed as an extension of her! I realized I never established this before so have it as bonus lore I guess xD

Again thank you so much for taking the time to write me something so lovely <3

#charlastor #radiobelle #charlastor fanchild #charlastor fankid #hazbin hotel oc #chubs ocs #dawn morningstar #digital art #my art #art #chubs answers

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sprout-fics · 1 year

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request for ghost 👀 ghost x medic!reader that is basically the opposite of him. super gentle and docile, they’re the sunshine of the team (affectionately named by Soap). ghost is infatuated but refuses to believe someone as good hearted as them could ever be interested in him. like he feels like he’s not good enough for reader but reader is scared of rejection so they also don’t say anything. basically two idiots in love pining for each other

Sunshine (Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN! Reader)

Rating: M

Word Count: 2.5 k

Warnings: Explicit mention of murder, blood, and injuries, I have not played any of the games so if Ghost is OOC then shoot me I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Summary:

“Sunshine” They called you. It was a bit of a misnomer, all things considered. While your sweet, gentle personality was quietly adored off the field, your laser focus and scorching gaze locked that part of you away on mission. Soap had teased you once in the early days as you stitched his arm in a safehouse, saying you had the sweetest, gentlest touch on a medic he’d ever felt.

“Feels like fuckin’ sunshine, corporal.” He slurred, heavy off painkillers as you tended to the bullet in his shoulder. “Best hands I’ve ever had on me.”

You had given him a sharp pinch for the innuendo, but the nickname had stuck anyways.

It had taken some time to earn the trust of the group. They had been burned one too many times to take in a new member without a healthy amount of suspicion. It was only after you had managed to patch them up half a dozen times each that they grew accustomed to your steady, reaffirming presence.

Most of them, at least.

Ghost was a quiet one, living up to his name as he lingered in the shadows, haunting like a specter at the corner of every scene. When he spoke, it was only to issue orders, to patch into the comms and relay intel. Like a wraith, his broad form occupied the corner of your mind, his voice a rough hard scrape like soot against your fingertips. His eyes watched you from afar, deadly, precise, ever true to his aim.

You never see his face.

“Don’t worry, he’s just got a bad chin.” Soap whispers conspiratorially to you as you both lay low over a rooftop that looks over your target. “Like one of those goddamn Hapsburg royals.”

“I doubt that.” You snort, eyes never leaving your scope.

Still, you do wonder sometimes. You can’t help it. There’s something inside you that gravitates towards him like being pulled in by a black hole. The very presence of him draws your eyes to his, dark, unflinching, cold. Sometimes you feel like he can see straight through you, as transparent as a phantom.

“Sunshine, on me.” He barks, and damn if you two don’t make quite the duo- bright sunlight and a dead man walking.

The only times you get glimpses of him are when he’s injured, which is rare. You pull up his sleeve to reveal his forearm, thick, muscular, veiny. For a moment you want to trace your fingers over it, nails scraping against the dark ink in contrast to his skin- a skull.

Ghost’s eyes never leave you as you work, and you don’t notice the way his gaze lingers over your lips, your lashes.

You talk to him as you clean the cut- a sharp slice of a knife from a terrorist who got too close. He had been a step to your left, and you had raised your gun but Ghost had gotten him first. You didn’t even realize the hulking soldier was in your shadow until his knife was buried into the man’s neck and a curse tore from his throat at the blade lodged in his own arm.

The blood drips red across your gloved fingers as you try to distract him from the pain, and yourself from the strange flutter that echoes low in your stomach. Inside, you try to quell whatever this is- this want, this need inside you for him to be even closer, to hear his voice whisper across your skin.

Your nimble fingers work over the wound, neatly gathering the edges. It’ll leave a scar, and you wonder for a moment just how many he has, exactly. What are the stories that tie them to his flesh? The history woven into the sinew of his muscles?

“I’m sorry.” You offer, and your voice is quiet somehow, unable to fill the scant space between you. Sorry that you had been too slow, sorry he had gotten hurt as a result, sorry for having feelings despite yourself.

“…It’s fine.” The Lieutenant offers after several long heartbeats. “I’m fine.”

It’s not fine, not really, but you accept his words regardless.

“Thank you.” Ghost manages after you’re done, and his voice is uncharacteristically subdued. His eyes avert from you, as if he doesn’t want to meet your gaze. That shiver inside you swoops low with uncertainty at his hesitation, but before you can part your lips to speak he’s gone as if he was never there at all.

---

It’s only after a close call that is far too close that things change.

The sniper catches you by surprise, having managed to circle around your group and catch you from behind. The bullet goes straight through your shoulder, and if you hadn’t turned to listen to Price just a millisecond prior you know it would have been through your skull. The impact topples you forward onto the rubbled concrete below you, and the world is spinning, ringing as Price is shouting orders seconds before the rapid pop of gunfire erupts around you.

“Sunshine!!”

You try to stand, to reach for your weapon but it feels like your lungs are caught between a hydraulic press. There’s blood splattered across the ground under your hands and it blurs as your vision tries to right itself from the pain. Someone is calling your name but it sounds like it's coming through water, garbled and distant.

The world around you shifts abruptly, tilting on its axis as a pair of thick cut arms lifts you like you’re no heavier than a sack of flour. Hands reach across you, removing the strap of your rifle from your form and you catch a glimpse of the blood that’s soaked through it, dark and glistening.

“Got ‘em.” A voice gravels next to your ear, and it takes you more than one second to realize its Ghost who’s got you slung over his bulking shoulders, his gear digging into your ribcage as you wheeze and try to ground yourself against the nauseating wave of pain that bubbles up your throat, thick and red.

“Go!” Price barks, and you dimly are aware of the fact that he sounds oddly afraid. “We’ll cover you.”

The world is jostling, turning, shifting, and the sudden dizziness of it all crashes over you as your vision turns black.

---

The next hour comes in flashes of black and red, and you learn later that the bullet narrowly missed an artery- a fatal blow. Your entire left side is soaked in blood by the time you wake, but you’re alive, drowsy, laying down on a cleared off table at the safe house with the dusty kitchen light shining brightly down on you.

You hiss at the brightness and try to move to press a hand to the wound, only for an iron-rod grip to settle your wrist back onto the flat surface under you.

“Don’t.”

You blink for a few moments, turning your head to meet the white skull mask next to you. The lieutenant looks comically too large for the chair he’s sitting in, and with his size his gaze is still above you, gazing down with that unblinking stare

“You lost a lot of blood.” Ghost relays calmly, his grip still on your wrist. It’s nice, the warmth of his hand spilling through his glove onto your clammy skin. “Thought we lost you.”

There’s a tenderness in his voice that surprises you, and you can’t tell if it’s the painkillers helping you imagine it. The fact that he’s sitting here, with you, instead of with the voices that filter in from the other room, should tell you something. Your senses are too cloudy, heavy and weighed down by whatever they gave you for the pain.

“ ‘M not dead.” You manage, voice a hard scrape in your throat. “It’ll take more than that to make me a ghost.”

Maybe it’s the painkiller after all, but you swear you hear him chuckle.

---

You’re haunted after that.

Ghost’s figure is too large for your own shadow, but he stays there nonetheless, dark and omnipresent like a curse. In some ways it is. The constant presence of him forces you to constantly push down that flutter in your stomach, to make sure your eyes don’t linger on his for too long, to not say his name like the soft sigh that it is in your heart. You catch his eyes and feel a rush of warmth creep up your neck under your gear, feel the phantom of his touch skim across your wrist.

You’ve fallen for him.

Fuck.

That itself is not a problem- well, it is, but not as bad as the issue it presents. You can’t say anything. He’s your superior, you’re part of his team, and there are clear boundaries that can’t be crossed in wartime.

More than that though, is the fact that he probably doesn’t feel the same. Ghost has never mentioned anything about romance, even to Soap, who he seems closest with. When you had gently queried the sergeant for intel on the topic he had merely looked at you as if you expected him to know the secret of the afterlife itself. You count your blessings that Soap is dense when it comes to that sort of topic, otherwise he’d be pestering you for weeks about your little secret.

So, you try to contain it, this infatuation of yours, spoon feeding yourself lies about how it’ll pass, how it’s just a phase, that you two were never meant to be. It’s difficult to do just that when he’s always there, crowding into your space like your own personal attack dog, wordlessly present at all times. His eyes trace you as you pass, and you feel the chill of them carve into your bones and leave you trembling and weak.

It's fine, I’m fine. You tell yourself, more than once a day at this point, forcing down the rush of warmth when your eyes meet, when you hear his voice speak your name, when you feel him right fucking behind you.

On top of it all, Ghost starts putting you in the backseat, starts holding you from rooms until they’ve been cleared, and starts treating you like a goddamn rookie. The part of you that is hopeless over him thinks at first he’s being overprotective, watching your six and making sure there will never be a repeat of the incident that nearly cost you your life. You know better than that though, know that Ghost likely doesn’t have feelings for you, that he’s putting you on the back burner deliberately to teach you a lesson over not paying attention- and that pisses you right off.

It takes a while but you manage to corner him back at base after a successful mission where you all but sat on your ass the entire time while he and Price took the lead. You find him lurking in a back hallway, and you can’t contain your uncharacteristic anger as you stride up to him, plant your hands on either side of him on the wall and gaze furiously up at his masked face.

“What.” You grit. “-the fuck was that?!”

Ghost, for what he’s worth, actually looks surprised. The expression is foreign to you, his eyes usually cold and dead, calculating and precise. He stiffens, and even though you barely reach his collarbone with just how gigantic he is, manages to look like he’s actually a bit apprehensive of your stance towards him. In any other situation it would be borderline comical, with how you’re trying to physically intimidate a man much, much larger than yourself, with your arms barely able to box him in on either side.

“Watch your tone corporal.” He replies at last, and there’s a warning in his voice you don’t heed.

“Not until you tell me exactly why you’ve decided to treat me like I don’t know which end of the gun to shoot with.” You snap back, and the look your words earn you is chill inducing. Even so you don’t back down. “You have me being baby-sat during these missions like you can’t trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

The words spill out before he can catch them, and the confession has you both startled and blinking at each other wide-eyed. You feel shock spill across your chest, electric and dazzling for all of a moment. You aren’t surprised at the fact that Ghost trusts you, it’s the fact that he went so far as to say it out loud, voicing a rare instance of his inner thoughts to you in your confusion.

“Then why?” You ask, and you hate the way your voice sounds almost desperate, pleading for an answer.

Ghost stiffens, and you feel his muscles ripple as they brush against you.

“…I couldn’t have you injured again.” He speaks at last, and you know he’s trying to school his voice into a cold indifference, but you can hear the little note of shame there, of guilt.

“I’m going to get injured no matter what. That’s the job.” You point out, unable to contain the bite from your words.

“No.” Ghost manages, and his voice is tight, choked. “Not like that.”

You blink up at him, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability in his voice, the way he seems to almost be pleading with you.

Yet your entire world screeches to a halt at his next words.

“Because it’s you.”

Your heart beats against your chest like a trapped bird, and suddenly you’re stumbling back from him, back braced against the opposite wall of the hallway as you try to reconcile his words with reality.

Because it’s you.

“Why…why didn’t you say anything?” You croak, hands coming up to your face to massage your temples. “All this time, you…you didn’t say anything.”

Ghost shifts where he stands, and you know him well enough at this point that he’s fighting the urge to walk away, to blend into the shadow and pretend like this conversation never happened.

“You don’t feel the same.” He says bluntly, voice detached and empty as he braces for what he thinks is your inevitable rejection. “And even if you did, I…don’t deserve someone like you.”

Your eyes shoot up to meet his, and you shiver at what you find there. Hurt, longing, desire dark and deep and barely tamed.

“You-“ Ghost manages, and you can feel the discomfort radiating off of him, this brute man built like a tank but taken down by a few tender words. “You’re too good, sunshine.”

Slowly, the pieces fit together, like skin mended together by the seam of a stitch.

He thinks he doesn’t deserve you, bright and radiant as you are. You’re sunshine and he’s Ghost, he’s shadows and darkness and blood and the whisper of death with every bullet. He’s afraid that if he even touches you he’ll dye you dark at the seams, stifle that brightness within you.

He doesn’t know that light illuminates the darkness.

“Ghost.” You manage at last, and there’s a laugh on your lips, sweet and bitter all at once. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

You yank him down and kiss him through his mask, and something radiant glows inside you both.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ask box #requests #oneshots

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