-
Patreon | Ko-Fi
🪼

Janaina Medeiros
hello vonnie
Misplaced Lens Cap
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Game of Thrones Daily

Kaledo Art

roma★
YOU ARE THE REASON

#extradirty
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Not today Justin
Show & Tell
Three Goblin Art

Discoholic 🪩
Monterey Bay Aquarium
One Nice Bug Per Day
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

blake kathryn

@theartofmadeline

seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Philippines

seen from Malaysia

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Russia

seen from Singapore

seen from Malaysia

seen from T1
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Netherlands
seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Sri Lanka
@astralheir
-
Patreon | Ko-Fi
-
Patreon | Ko-Fi
“Please Stay”
-
Patreon | Ko-Fi
i exist! :O
Someone please kiss me softly and tell me I’m good enough.
“I’m a hard person to deal with, but also a person that would give you the world just to see your smile.”
-lunas-worlds-blog
Ardyn: Somnus is a dick, I am the true king.
Somnus: No you are a dick! I am the true king!
Noctis, the direct victim of all this melodrama:
Both of you are major assholes.
i’m still........here .....
“Prince. How long will you remain the protected, When the king has left protecting the people to you?”
smooches
they’ve had time, finally the time to grow together, yet a flush still rushes to his cheeks, warmth fluttering in his chest and he finds the courage to turn toward her. she’s light compared to his dark, illuminating the sky, chasing away the lingering shadows that still lay tucked in his heart where daemons and astrals and death lay so heavy it still haunts his soul. he returns a smile, and leans forward, touching lips to hers softly.
shieldheir ╳ Gladio
❝ tsk— ❞ arms fold neatly over his chest at the snideness of his query. he wasn’t wrong, but he’d burn before he admitted it; never one to concede defeat so easily considering the circumstances. their kiss is one too fleeting not to leave his imagination roaming wildly when it had ended— his lips are a praise he never knew he’d needed. he remembers the way he’d lingered a moment more, as if expecting gladio to say something to his detriment, but his mind is far too addled to think of anything remotely intelligible with which to respond, words dried up in the depths of his throat. the worst part, he thinks, is that he doesn’t even mind the fact that his wallet was stollen because it was this beautiful stranger who had done it. ❝ looks just as bad that you’re stealing from cops in the first place. ❞ smooth, real smooth.
it wasn’t that good of a kiss, anyway, he’ll try in vain to convince himself. ❝ is this your thing? seems like you’ve got it down. ❞
is this your thing? he lets his gaze wander towards the people that pass them by, none the wiser to his scrutinizing eyes, picking out the easiest marks, the ones that might prove a challenge, and those that he wishes to rise to. it’s easy to tell who’s pockets might be heavier, can spot the rolex on the wrist of a perfectly manicured hand, and smell the chanel wrapped about the lithe figure in kitten heels, and he knew which would be easier, which would hold more fortune. lucis had always been a prospering city ( one he knew intimately ) and he was fit to rob it of its undeserving wealth. the same could not be said for officer amicitia, in his off-duty clothes, white tee clinging in all the right ways to his chest. head tilts, bangs sliding across his vision.
❛ maybe. ❜ he reaches out, lets his fingers tip toe down his chest, fingers pressing against the hard wall of muscle that he suddenly wants to know. he lingers at the edge of his jeans, just low enough on his hips to make one’s mouth water, and casts his gaze back to warm honey. fingers easily tease, skimming the hem of his shirt before slipping to the side and relieving him of his badge. he can’t help the smirk. ❛ is letting thieves get away your thing? cause it seems like you’ve got that down. ❜
shieldheir ╳ Gladio
he scoffs at the childish roll of his eyes that he’d been given, especially since he’d known from the beginning that he’d find some convenient excuse not to go. the only deviation from the original foreseen outcome is that the snow began to tumble down faster than he expected. in hindsight, he’s glad that he didn’t make the trip beforehand, lest they be deprived of the warmth of small moments like these where noctis is tucked away against him. ❝ guess whose fault that is? ❞ in truth, he’s not too disappointed with noctis’ choices when it earns him longing looks like these where it becomes nearly a struggle to keep from closing the distance the prince teases him with. it’s childish, he thinks, that he frowns when he doesn’t get the kiss he’s expecting, replaced by the chill of winter wind and the bite of snow against his cheeks, only beginning to gather around his beard. ❝ you’re— ❞ such a damn tease, he thinks, and mentally he curses himself for not being better prepared despite his prediction.
it’s the smaller hand clasping his own and dragging him into the convenience that endears him, cradling with such urgency that perhaps he thinks that should he let go, he’d never be able to retrieve gladio. the way noctis thumbs through different options of snacks for the both of them to share brings about a smile that tears the seams of an expression once lost to disappointment; thoughtful features focused on what he thinks they’d both enjoy. idle is the motion of his thumb sweeping across the back of noctis’ hand before tugging loose from its hold. palm settles upon his cheek, lifting his face enough for him to steal the tender affection he desired in the barest touch of their lips ( not deep enough to linger but light enough, he hopes, to keep him wanting ). ❝ just pick something already. we’re not gonna feed an army here, noct. ❞ —a cheeky grin his only accomplice to hopefully get them home sooner.
knowing smile plays upon his features as gladio all but pouts when he denies him the kiss. he loves him, oh god does he love him, but he also enjoys drawing out these moments, teasing him until it becomes too much even more him. hand still clasped in his, he shifts through the snacks that he doesn’t truly care for, too focused on the thumb that sweeps across the back of his hand, hypnotic and soothing, distracting him from the task at hand. and though they stand in the middle of the aisle of the small convenience store, fluorescent lights bearing down on them and casting them in an unflattering light. only fools ( they among them ) have dared to brave the encroaching snowfall to seek out snacks that would make ignis balk. he feels his hand slip free, feeling his own lips turn down before the very same palm settles upon his cheek and draws him in. eyes close instinctively and he doesn’t have to wait for the kiss he’s been wanting since gladio had arrived back home. its soft, unbelievably gentle, and it steals the breath from his lungs, heavy inhale the only noise to reveal the stutter of his heart. utter content morphs his face, smile brighter than the sun.
he makes to tease, to shove at his chest when features twist into disbelief, eyes wide as he turns back toward his shield, stuttered laugh leaving his lips. ❛ you are an army though. ❜ he ate like one, but he also represented one, protecting him without hesitation, always there to keep him standing, strong, alive. and much as he desires to get home , to the promise that lingers in the gentlest of kisses ( one that still tingles upon his lips and brings the touch of pink to his cheeks ), he doesn’t want to leave the domesticity of such a simple venture. though he had protested the trip, these small moments, seemingly insignificant, hold more meaning than anything else. he doesn’t get the normal life that others took for granted.
he tugs at his hand, drawing him close again, and tilts his chin up, asking in a knowing gesture. he should be more careful, here in the open where prying eyes might recognize him, but he’s never one to play it safe, favor in throwing caution to the wind. ❛ maybe this isn’t so bad, ❜ a murmur in the space between them as the rest of the world fades slowly.
Happy Birthday Noctis
shieldheir ╳ Gladio
eyes forward, focus present, and yet, each provocation uttered from his mouth feels like a vine constricting his throat, clenching tighter and tighter until life snaps under its ministration. ‘ warping is in your blood, ‘ he begins, ‘ if the kings of old could do it, so can you. ‘ it is a heavy burden, he knows, to be a successor to an empire with such vast reach. it is not by the grace of power passed down within his lineage that gladiolus believes he can achieve mastery of this magic, but by the strength of his will, the steel behind his eyes every time he rises from the ground. at times, he understands his frustration; the fear rising that he may not achieve the strength of his forebears. it’s shown in the way that his fists clench at his sides, blade thrown to the ground with a resounding clatter that echos within the vastness of the training hall. each time, he can only abrade his patience, ‘ get up, ‘ he’d say, ‘ we’re not finished yet. not by a long shot. ‘ in truth, he is made proud enough that heart swells within his chest when he makes progress, when he lands a hit that sends him off kilter, staggering to regain his balance. with the way he practices more often, it comes as no surprise that his skill would grow and his stamina would increase.
as of late, however, gladio found that his focus was narrowed, impatient; almost as if attempting to exact revenge on him for a reason he knew not. verbal jabs became sharper, the intent to cut when he speaks is not overlooked. the build up of tension between the two of them growing by the day, present in the way he does not visit his apartment besides what is necessary, doesn’t push him mirthfully while he’s laughing about some stupid joke he’d played on him. part of him wonders where that closeness had gone― the wise cracks instead of blades meant to wound, the ‘ subtlety ‘ of how he always wound up pressed to his side or against his chest when he slept over. however, gladiolus does not let his change in behavior become an excuse for skipping his training, nor does he substitute his schedule for time with his new girlfriend; instead, he balances his time as best he can. their dates are a compromise of each of their hobbies ( she, with her painting and he, with the camping trips he takes them on ), and he enjoys spending his time with her. she is brilliant, eyes brimming with enthusiasm, and hair that he swears is woven from the finest silks. she is no fool― competitively striving for top marks in all her classes that she achieves with such ease ( the type who doesn’t suffer fools if she doesn’t need to ).
& suddenly, the intensity behind his gaze is all but deadly, an assurance that he would either succeed in his endeavor to complete the warp of drop his blade altogether and storm off in frustration for the day. he watches as the weapon cut through the air, aimed at the space between his neck and shoulders, while he watches blue light ( a ghostly fragment of his figure ) be left behind him. for a moment, his eyes roam and watch the light fade, only to widen when noctis’ weight crashes into his own, arms instinctively curling around his smaller figure as they’re left tumbling into the dusty ground. from his lungs is drawn stolen breath, both the impact of the collision and the one where he takes the brunt of their fall contributing to uneven breathing. there’s a moment when they’re both as shocked as the other, neither willing to move, if only for a moment. gladio expected to see nothing but pure elation riddling soft features, but instead are the traces of discontent and sorrow as he tries to scramble off of him, and gladio tries to remember the way he wasn’t at all disturbed with how comfortable the brevity of the moment was. when he speaks, his voice is venomous when it’s pointed his way, and his eyes narrow even when they’re not looking at him. it’s these moments he hates most when he represses every ailment he kept locked away behind lips of iron and caged heard. ‘ i’m fine, ‘ he’d say, and oh how his skin crawled at the very sound of them. it’s obvious enough with the hostility woven into his voice, even when he’d just accomplished such an incredible feat, that he was overthinking something. ❝ happy? ❞
deep frown sets onto thick petals as he pushed himself to sit up, ( eyes would find his if only noctis would look his way ). ❝ what’s with your attitude? it’s not just today, either. you’ve been a huge pain in the ass for a while now― you gonna tell me what’s wrong? ❞
he’s screaming in his own mind, words echoing back at him tenfold, rising in volume until he feels as if he might shatter like glass. nails drag against his thighs as he fights every urge to give in, give in give in. he is fragile in this moment; caught in the tremulous moment of do i or don’t i. it cracks at his resolve, batters against his walls, beats him until he’s black and blue. tongue clenched between teeth, he wars with the desire to bear his bleeding heart, or wrap it back up and hide it behind the walls of grief and pain that he so diligently erects when the pain becomes nearly unbearable. he breaks behind those walls. breaks and breaks until he’s nothing more than a shattered mess of grief and heartache kneeling on the floor, tears staining his cheeks, heart bleeding for a loss he has no right to feel. he couldn’t have that life. he couldn’t be with someone he loved. he grits his teeth, clings to his walls, and begs the sob not to slip past and expose him.
what’s wrong is that you’re with her and not me !!
he’s tried to find another, tried to find space in his heart to accommodate something. sought out the many girls who fawned over him from afar, painfully approached them and gave to them what they had craved for so long. attention and a smile, and words that fell empty from his lips. he couldn’t withstand many, left anxious and overwhelmed by the feeling that this isn’t right crushing his chest. and it wasn’t. nothing was right. he could only see amber when he looked at them, eyes too green, lacking in vibrancy. the absence of black ink across their chest startling, upsetting. the smell of earth replaced with sugar and cinnamon. he was caught in the realization that her hands were too small, too soft. laughter not deep enough. she was everything he should have wanted, but his heart had already been given to another. there was nothing that could change that. nothing he did could alter this cursed path he had set himself upon.
for he loved gladio. he loved him. it was so obvious now, listening to his heart shatter in his chest, and feel the tears burn his eyes. he loved him and he could never have that. that is what has plagued him these past couple weeks. that is what his heart aches for when darkness descends and he’s alone, cold in an empty bed. it was wrong for them to have taken things so far. he let himself get comfortable in the closeness of their bond. twisted it until it became something he couldn’t have. king and shield. that’s what they were, that’s what they would always be. that’s all they could be.
he still hasn’t spoken, and he knows the longer he’s silent, the harder gladio will be on him to reveal what wars within. already he knows that something is wrong, something more than usual and noctis knows he can’t talk about this yet. he can’t. he can’t face the rejection, the notion that gladio would never love him like this. could never love him as if breath came only in the form of the other’s life. as if his heart could only beat if the others did. so much of what he wanted was entwined with this man, and it was impossible. he didn’t want to face that, and he wouldn’t. instead he lets the harsh reality of his life take over, giving him fuel to an anger that simmered beneath the grief and pain, and pushes it forward. being angry was easy too. being angry helped him survive.
❛ you’re my problem. ❜ i can’t get you out of my head, out of my heart. it sits on his tongue, so ready to be released but he swallows, jaw grit, and barrels forward. ❛ don’t you know when to quit? i get it. i have a lot to live up to. ❜ a lot to live up to, a lot to give up, a lot he can’t have. he’s fully aware of everything that his title demands of him. he’s known for years when others think he’s too self-absorbed. he’s not so stupid as to be blind to the life that awaits him. ❛ i get it. ❜ softer now, still laced in fury, but so soft. i get it. you can’t be mine. he wants nothing more than to go home, to hide in his apartment, lose himself in mindless video games, take solace in prompto’s company, and bury himself beneath his sheets until he was nothing more than one with the bed. he rises, feet a little unsteady beneath him, but he refuses to seek help in this moment. he just wants to be out of his presence. ❛ i'm going home. ❜
endear: to make dear, esteemed, or beloved;
shieldheir ╳ Gladio
’ i’m fine, ‘ ―he waits for the words to be spoken, lips parting as if to speak his near - automatic retaliation. he almost misses when he does not finish his bluff― catches himself because noctis has learnt that lying to him breeds nothing but resentment much like a stale bitterness left singed across the tongue after eating something burnt. he stills, tension dying as he allows his shoulders to relax. he’s trying, and the effort is what sends him reeling. this is what he asked for ( demanded of him through all the harshness he could muster ), and having received it in the small dose it’s given is a relief. he’ll watch as noctis surveys their surroundings, keen to avoid being watched while he lifts his shirt so he can inspect the damage their battles have gained them. nothing too serious, he notes, though he does flinch slightly with the motion of lifting his top.
❝ you’re a little shit, is what you are. ❞ his sigh is relief given form; it seemed as though he truly wasn’t as battered as he’d thought, though the thought doesn’t stop him from rummaging through their supply of restoratives. within their store he finds several bandages and ointment that he figures may help with the scratches he’d noticed. wordlessly does he shift to pull noctis into his lap, the faintest smirk lining his lips as he lifts his shirt to have a closer look at the scratches. taking the damp cloth at his side in hand, gladio slowly wiped away the dried blood, taking care not to further agitate his wounds. with utmost gentility does he apply the ointment to the smaller ones, bandaging them moments later. his larger wounds are treated with the same delicate care, though he scowls slightly at their sight on his frame― he should’ve been close enough, fast enough to rush to his side and defend like his instinct dictates. ❝ just.. keep your eyes peeled next time. wild animals won’t wait for you t’ keep your guard up, y’know. ❞
he nearly protests the treatment, now found settled in shield’s lap, close enough to breath in the scent of him. he resists the urge to remove gladio’s hands from their ministrations, set to heal, to instead pull him into an embrace. what befell his body meant nothing in the end. but it was a good distraction when he begins to attend to his wounds, and the pulse of the ache echoes across his side. jaw tight, he schools his features so that gladio does not take blame upon himself for receiving these injuries. it was his own fault. if he had been more careful in their fight, taming the impulsive desire to rush head first into battle he might have come away with ribcage intact.
he doesn’t miss the scowl upon his rugged features, lips turned down as he cares for the wounds on his flesh, no doubt berating himself for allowing this to happen. but he had never once blamed gladio for the harm that fell to his body, and he would not stand for it now. gladio gave more than ever asked, and he could not control a prince bent on proving himself. he turned, wincing at the movement that pulled taut bruised and battered flesh, and cupped his jaw, head tilted as he studied rugged features he has long since memorized over the years. fingers reach to brush gently over the scar that adorned his forehead, marring skin. it was a constant reminder that would gladio have it, he would bear all scars that might come his way.
free hand settles upon the knotted scar adorning his chest ( still a tug to his heart when he looks upon it, a scowl of his own to mark his features ), the other to tangle in chestnut locks, cradling as he tugs his head back gently that he might look into his eyes. he leans forward to press lips to a scar that first marked their journey of king and shield, a reminder that his life was not his own. a gentle sigh, wounds already beginning to ease in pain at the help of his shield, and he leans into him, body held up by broad chest and strong arms. ❛ i know, i will. ❜
he presses his face into his neck, arm looped around his shoulders and breathes in the smell of earth and sweat, his skin warm against his face. ❛ i’m okay, gladio. ❜
❛ the starlight
i will be chasing a star light ❜