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Masterlist

This will inevitably get longer the more fandoms and characters I write for, and I will absolutely be keeping it updated. Also, if links don't work, please lemme know and I'll fix em :)

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theawfuledges

Can you do morituro with Thranduil and human reader? Yes angst:')

apologies for the wait! hope you enjoy my interpretation of morituro - of someone who is next or destined to die from this prompt list.

flesh and feather (thranduil x gender neutral!reader, the hobbit)

The spider’s venom had been purged from your blood two days past, but the mark its bite had left upon your leg would take time yet to heal. The healer had warned you that the wound would scar, and though the thought of one of those fell creatures bestowing such a lasting mark upon you had earned Thranduil’s ire, you knew you would wear such a brand with pride.

You had held your own against the foul beasts, managing to fell two with dagger and bow before you had felt the bite of the third - and wounded or no, you had felled that one, too.

You were certain that, were it not for the paralytic properties of the creature’s venom, you would have been able to dispatch more. You certainly would have tried.

#thranduil #the hobbit thranduil #the hobbit

theawfuledges

basorexia with ✨hot dad elf✨ please and thank you. 💝

this is a+ prompting, my friend

basorexia: the overwhelming desire to kiss (from this prompt list)

The Elvish wine, it seems, has gone to your head.

Thranduil watches you with ill-concealed affection, his own glass of wine, sweet and light on the tongue though it may be, sitting long forgotten in the bowl of his palm. Wet with remnants of drink, your lips tilt into a merry grin as you’re passed from one hand to the other, music swelling around you and laughter trailing close behind. You’re unfamiliar with the steps, your limbs bereft of the grace of your hosts, but your inexperience fails to deter you from indulging in the dance, and in fact, your clumsy enthusiasm only serves to endear you further in the Elvenking’s eyes.

It is during a moment of reprieve that your eyes catch upon his, and Thranduil is set upon at once by the urge to rise and take you into his arms. Your lips have parted on a breath, plump and gleaming from the sweet vintage you had been indulging in all evening, and your eyes are alight with joy. The Elvenking is stricken with the surety that if he were only to graze the tender flesh at the nape of your neck or drag his fingertip along the dip of your collarbone, he would find your skin damp with perspiration, and warm with rising blood.

#yes yes yes please #thranduil #the hobbit thranduil #the hobbit

theawfuledges

#57 for Thranduil c:>

#57. “you have no idea what i do for you.”

“Leave us.”

You hold yourself very still as the elven guards take their leave of you and the King. Tauriel is the last to depart, and the quick cut of her eyes towards you, laced with quiet sympathy, does little to calm the tide of fear churning in your belly.

Silence floods the throne room; there is only you, the Elvenking perched high on his throne, and the sour taste of your shame coating the back of your throat.

“My Lord - ” you begin, unable to bear the stillness any longer.

“Silence.” You flinch, but not at the bite of his voice. His anger is a palpable thing, but none of it reflects in his tone. No, the Elvenking’s rage lurks within the depths of his eyes, wreathed in frost and sharp as any blade.

“You have no idea what I do for you,” he says, his voice a low, dangerous rasp. You would do well not to interrupt again. “What I have done for you. Granting you sanctuary among my people, offering you protection. Only for you to disregard my orders, to seek out a danger you are not equipped to face - ”

Your fingers curl into fists at your sides at the reminder of your ineptitude. A nest of spiders had settled nearby - vile, ugly things, a scourge on the land. A party had been set to depart on the morrow to cut them down, but you had set off on your own in the night, armed with bow and blade, to prove yourself capable of dealing with the threat yourself. To prove yourself capable at all.

You were no elf, and though you had been training with Tauriel for many moons now, your skills in combat were… lacking. She hid it well, but your lack of progress was apparent, and your shame grew by the day as you witnessed the skill and finesse of your elven comrades. No unkind word had been said against you, no pitiable glances had been cast your way, but you could bear your own failings no longer. You would prove yourself worthy of your King’s regard. You would not - could not - become a burden.

And yet here you were, exactly that - a burden, a foolish human too reckless for your own good, dirtied and bloodied by your encounter with the spiders and shame-faced before your King.

“If Tauriel had not been privy to your delusions of grandeur, if the Kingsguard had not sought you out - ” His voice fades, but his meaning is clear. You would be dead if the Kingsguard had not followed you, drained of life by those vile creatures, and all for the sake of your damned pride.

Pride which has led you here, shivering before the cold, hard gaze of your King.

“By all rights I should banish you from these halls,” he says.

Your body goes rigid, your reaction to the Elvenking’s words immediate: an ache lances through your chest as if you’ve just been struck, and your eyes ache with the sting of tears. You struggle to keep them at bay, refusing to show him how deeply his words have cut you, yet your vision blurs despite your efforts.

It matters not. The waver of your voice reveals your turmoil well enough. “If my King commands it,” you choke out, the sharp angles of Thranduil’s face and his piercing gaze blurring before your eyes, as though you were looking upon him through fogged glass. Should you blink your tears will fall, and so you force yourself to hold your stare. Your eyes burn, a painful ache building in your skull, and still you wait - to be cast out, to be forced from his sight and from the realm.

There is a moment of silence. You stand still as stone, your sorrow threatening to drown you as you await Thranduil’s decision, before a soft breath from your King shatters the quiet. He rises from his throne, as regal and lovely as always, and you brace yourself as he approaches you.

“Come,” he says, his tone brooking no argument. His robes brush against your legs as he passes you by, and you swallow as you turn to follow him, blinking rapidly to clear the haze from your vision.

You don’t know what you expect - to be deposited into the waiting hands of the guards, perhaps, or led into the dungeons to await exile. Instead you are guided through passageways as familiar to you as the back of your hand, and you hover indecisively on the threshold of your Lord’s chambers, uncertain why he has led you here.

“Sit,” he commands, and you sink into a chair without protest, wincing as pain blossoms through your leg. Your knee is a bloody mess of ripped clothing and torn skin, courtesy of a spider dragging you across the forest floor. You had been able to ignore it through your trek home and during the King’s interrogation, but now the pain flares anew, the scent of blood and earth and the sour stench of spider flesh making your head swim.

You watch in mingled shock and confusion as Thranduil sinks to his knees before you, a basin of water and cloth bandages on the floor at his side. Your lips move soundlessly as pale fingers reach for your wounded knee, stripping the remnants of your torn leggings from the bloody skin with quick, methodical movements.

“Were you seeking death?” His voice is soft, lacking inflection, but the skin around his striking eyes has grown tight, and your breath catches. He is angry with you, and rightly so, but there is more to it than that.

You waver for a long moment, merely watching as he cleans and binds your wound. Your heart aches with each brush of his skin against yours, guilt and shame turning your stomach sour. He has yet to look upon you since he began his task, focusing solely on your torn, bloodied skin, and it is not anger that has put such a pensive, distant look upon his handsome face.

It’s fear, or as close to it as you feel you shall ever see from your King.

“I wished to prove myself,” you whisper, your shoulders bowing with the weight of your shame. Your foolishness. The ache of tears pushes anew at the back of your eyes, and this time you have not the strength to push them back. “To prove to myself, to you, that I am worthy of all you have given me.” A home, a place of belonging, a place by his side, and so much more.

His hands go still, fingers curled around your wrapped knee. His eyes meet yours, and even the haze of your vision is not enough to lessen their impact.

“I will not be a burden,” you grit, your cheeks hot and wet with tears. You close your eyes, frustrated by your weakness, and reach to scrub the offending wetness from your skin.

Slender fingers stall your progress, however, curling around your own and coaxing your eyes to fix upon your King once more.

“There is only one among us who would call you such,” he says, giving you a pointed look, “and I do not trust their judgement in this matter.”

Your lips twitch despite yourself, even as your tears continue to fall. “Surely you must see it,” you protest. “My failure in combat, my lack of skill. I - I have tried, time and again, to do as my mentors do, to move as they do, to be as they are, but I - “

"You are no elf,” Thranduil finishes, and your stomach drops. It is the truth finally laid bare, and you quell beneath its might.

But not for long.

“You do not need to be.” His fingers brush across your cheek, thumbing the wetness from your skin, and you slump against his hold with a soft, ragged breath.

“Hear my words,” he continues, “and know them to be true. You are not here by merit of something you lack, nor in the hopes that you may be changed into something you are not. You are here because you wish it to be so. Because your King wishes it to be so.” He presses his brow to yours, his eyes fixed upon your own, and you are lost. “If you cannot trust in yourself, meleth nin, can you trust in me?”

It is as though his words have stolen your own - you cannot speak, the swell of emotion within your throat allowing nothing but a soft, wondrous breath to pass your lips. Judging by the satisfied gleam of his brilliant eyes, it is all the answer he needs.

#<333 #thranduil #the hobbit thranduil #the hobbit

theawfuledges

Thranduil in armor after a battle or something and he just crooks his finger at you. When you get close he takes your chin between his fingers making you look up at him as his piercing eyes just devour you he whispers, "Get this armor off of your King, and you shall be rewarded." (I am so upset you have me thinking these thoughts about an ELF)

i couldn’t not write something for this, okay? (also, i’m loving that i’ve infected you with The Elf Thirst)

The scent of earth and blood clings to Thranduil’s skin. Your fingers tremble as you remove each piece of gleaming armor, his watchful gaze following your every movement. The tent is silent save the rasp of your breathing and the shift of metal and cloth as you work; Thranduil had dismissed his guards and barred entry to his temporary quarters until the morrow, leaving you alone with the King.

A crook of his finger had drawn you to him like a moth to flame, your heart heavy with relief as you’d taken in the pale, unmarred planes of his face. The blood splattered across his armor had been dark and viscous; not the blood of an elf, not his. The battle had been won, and though you had yet to see the aftermath, you knew your King was unharmed, victorious, and that had been enough.

Or so you had believed, until he had given his command. His slender fingers had curled around your chin, lifting your head so that your gazes locked. “Get this armor off of your King,” he had ordered, his voice rough from a battle long-fought, “and you shall be rewarded.”

You had set about your task with nerveless fingers, the scent of blood and metal thick in the air, clouding your senses. Each newly bared swath of skin had simultaneously lightened your heart and sped its pulse. No blade or axe or claw had touched your King, could touch your King, and yet you could.

You are no warrior; you are no elf, and yet the King of the Woodland Realm stands tall and pliant beneath your hands, watches you with sharp, expectant eyes as you rid him of his armor.

Your breath hitches as you remove the last piece, your palms faltering at the lack of Thranduil’s warmth before you clasp them before you. “Is there anything else you require, my Lord?” you ask, swallowing against a surge of longing as you watch his pale, powerful shoulders disappear beneath a robe of deep azure. He knots it loosely at the waist, and your eyes are drawn at once to the shadows in the dip of his collarbone and the long line of his throat.

“I promised you a reward, did I not?” he murmurs, dipping his head and regarding you through a fall of silver lashes. “Tell me, what boon would you ask of me?”

“I… I require no boon,” you stammer, even as you are unable to dispel the desires that fill your head. Surely the hungry nature of your thoughts must show on your face, for why else would your King wear such a knowing expression upon his handsome face, a mixture of amusement and expectancy that makes your skin warm.

“Are you certain?” he asks, slowly closing the distance between you. “There is no token you desire?”

Your eyes flicker to the curve of his mouth before darting away, but you have been caught. Thranduil’s soft laughter tells you as much, as do the slender fingers curving around your cheeks and drawing you near. Your eyes slip closed at the touch of his lips against yours, the contact soft and feather-light. Meant to linger, to leave you aching for more, as it always has. You reach for his forearms, your pulse thrumming at the gentle pressure of his mouth against yours and the brush of his silken hair against your cheeks.

He draws away after a moment, his mouth tilting into a smirk as he peers into your clouded gaze. “Well?” he asks. “Are you satisfied with such a prize?” You swallow, cheeks heating beneath his touch, and breathe, “Perhaps… another?“

The curl of your King’s lips and the tug of his hands pulling you to him once more are all the answer you require.

#im going to eat my shoe #god i need him #thranduil #the hobbit thranduil #the hobbit

theawfuledges

Hello!! I’m still so happy and teary about that Thranduil Drabble! I was wondering if you could write a Elrond x reader (if you don’t write for him thrandy is fine) where the reader is insecure, human, and maybe just maybe plus size?? Maybe?? Anyway, I hope you have a wonderful day/night/sleep well, thank you!

here you go @agent221b! this was my first time writing for him, so i hope i did okay! apologies if you were hoping for smut, this ended up being more of a developing relationship type of thing, but hey, i’m not against writing a follow up at some point if you (or anyone else) would like to see more ;) thanks so much for the request!

Rivendell lies spread before you, gleaming bright and golden in the early morning sunlight. You breathe in the crisp, clean air, watching as the sun’s rays drift lazily through its trees, and take another bite of the sweet bread and jam you’d been given for breakfast.

You could easily find slumber here, with your belly pleasantly full and the sun a warm balm on your face. In fact, you often have, falling asleep while perched in this very chair on the balcony of your room, or dozing in your bed while birdsong drifts in from your open windows. Sleep and books have been your constant companions for weeks now; you are equipped for little else in your current state.

You have recovered much since your first days in Rivendell, however. You shudder to remember that time, how the pain had wracked you, agony the likes of which you’d never felt before lancing through your leg and setting your skin aflame. You remember little but heat and sweat and the slickness of your own blood soaking the sheets beneath you, though there are foggy recollections of slender fingers and soft voices easing your torment. You had thought it all a dream, the fevered imaginings of the dying, until you had awoken days later upon soft, clean sheets in a room bathed in moonlight. You had been saved.

Keep reading

#ive had a crush on elrond since i first watch lotr in high school #sigghhhhhhh #yes its still alive and well #elrond #lotr elrond #lotr #lord of the rings

theawfuledges

as fire bites (adaman x gender neutral!reader, pokemon legends: arceus)

after finishing the volo fic i couldn’t resist writing a little something for my man adaman. inspired by my run-in with an outbreak of parasect in the crimson mirelands (uGH)

One more step.

Your vision wavers, your skin prickling with remnants of the poison you’d been doused with. One more step, you keep telling yourself, the words repeating like a mantra within your muddled brain.

You feel like you’ve fallen into one of the mudholes dotting the mirelands, your legs trembling, reflexes slowing, your consciousness sinking beneath the weight of the poison ravaging your body.

You would call out one of your Pokemon if you had the strength to reach for their Poke Balls, but as it is you can barely focus on dragging your feet forward, squinting against the sweat dripping into your eyes and struggling to breathe through the pain.

It’s only when you hear a startled gasp that you can force your head up, and the familiar site of the Diamond Settlement fills you with such a sense of relief that you nearly collapse right at its borders.

Oh, you think blearily when your knees suddenly meet the hard packed dirt beneath you. It looks like collapsing is exactly what you’ve done.

“Find Adaman!” you hear someone shout, and through the fog steadily encroaching on your vision, you see the blurry figures of Diamond Clan members racing to your side.

And then there is darkness, and you know no more.

Keep reading

#my mannnnnnn #sharing the pecha berry that way reminds me of princess mononoke #mostly cuz i just watched it the other day so its vibes are fresh in my soul lol #got me blushing like a fool #adaman #pokemon adaman #legends arceus

theawfuledges

Royal advisor or somethin: ... my lord are you certain?

Rauru, looking at a nervous, nervous mess of a person who looks like they'll shatter if you even look at them a little wrong. They're about to cry.: Yes. They're perfect

RA: You... you don't think perhaps someone else would be best suited to be your partner?

Rauru: I said they're perfect

ohhh, this was too fun a premise not to run with it

A hush falls over the throne room. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, feel the first beadings of sweat upon your brow. Surely, you had misheard…

“Are you certain of this, Your Majesty?” The Royal Advisor, a bespectacled Zonai with a penchant for frowning and furrowed brows, stares down in bewilderment at your lowered head. It’s clear what he thinks of this whole debacle, and in all truth, you cannot blame him.

“I am quite certain, yes,” King Rauru demures, his words colored with amusement before his eyes, brilliantly blue, fall upon you. You can feel their weight upon your bowed form; a quick glance confirms your suspicions, and leaves you floundering beneath the gentle warmth of the Zonai’s expression, the surety of it.

This is no jest, then. No lark. King Rauru is asking for your hand.

#rauru #totk rauru #totk #tears of the kingdom

theawfuledges

two and a half studios really woke up and chose violence when they gave us a cocky white-haired never-been-kissed pretty boy who calls us sunshine and blushes at the drop of a hat

needless to say, i’m hooked. so here’s a little post-ending 3 fluff (and kissing. lots and lots of kissing). hope you guys enjoy!

(also send me prompts pls! would love to write more for our little reaper ❤️)

light, which i stand in, warmed (grim/casper x gender neutral!reader, a date with death)

“You’re gonna have to relax, you know.” Your voice lilts with that teasing edge that Casper has come to expect, but even his familiarity with it isn’t enough to stop the heat from spilling into his cheeks. It’s your fault - you’re too damn close, too damn bright, and the way you’re looking at him, all soft and fond and wanting - it’s too much.

“I am relaxed,” he lies, hiding his burning face in the crook of his arm. The bedsprings creak as you shift on top of the mattress, and his face flares hotter.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t imagined this moment or others like it - he had, especially as those first faint stirrings of affection had begun to bloom within him every time you hopped into the chat. But his imaginings failed to hold a candle to the reality of your weight nestled against him, your warmth, the scent of your bed linens and the gentle curl of your fingers around his biceps as you lean over him.

#hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnghnnn #being very normal about this tonight #casper #adwd casper #a date with death

theawfuledges

was totally gonna save this for kinktober but fuck it, i’m too impatient. enjoyyyy~

MINORS DNI

ao3

tw: masturbation, accidental voyeurism, oral sex (reader receiving), frottage

your name (your heart, too) (casper/grim x gn!reader, a date with death)

He wanted to see you.

It was ridiculous, and he damn well knew it, but that didn’t stop Casper from casting his gaze towards his laptop screen again, fingers drumming on his raised knee as he glanced at your username. He made a face as the online icon nestled beside it remained just as frustratingly dark as it had been the last four times he’d checked, and rolled his eyes at his own juvenile behavior. Nine Hells, what was he doing?

You were probably busy; just as he should be, Casper reminded himself with a grimace, casting a glance at his scythe propped up against the wall. There were plenty of souls in need of reaping, after all. He should be out there, doing his job, not huddled at his desk awaiting your call.

Yet his mind was so far removed from any thoughts of work; pinpointed, as it had increasingly become of late, on you: on your ridiculous jokes, on the obscure, nonsensical nicknames you kept bestowing upon him, on your radiance. Gods, he could think of little else these days.

#AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #its already past midnight but god damn...#im hard now LMAO #casper #adwd casper #a date with death #smut

scorchingbread

Grim x gn!reader who isn't keen on physical touch

(Gender of reader isn't mentioned)

Cw: sexual scenarios discussed, handjobs,dislike of physical touch being talked about in depth + it's worries. Please let me know if I missed anything :)

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI I'M TIRED OF BLOCKING YOU

Spoiler: grims name, ending 3

(I totally didn't base this off of my own feelings whatsoever... Psh what?)

842 words

#just replayed the game now that theres voice acting and oml #this is perfect actually #<333 #casper #adwd casper #a date with death #smut

leighsartworks216

Whelp I accidentally crashed Bioshock so um. I guess I need a break anyway...

leighsartworks216

Oh. My god.

I'm back at the beginning of the area.

#random #bioshock

Whelp I accidentally crashed Bioshock so um. I guess I need a break anyway...

#mac has a like digital bar at the top of the keyboard that you can do certain controls on #in the game it SHOULD allow me to switch between plasmids #unfortunately its just an instant crash #accidentally brushed one trying to pull out the camera while a splicer was ripping open my face #um. no idea how far back it's gonna put me.... not very excited to find out #random #bioshock

sandersstudies

My husband’s job primarily employs adult men but there is one (1) teenage girl and my husband said originally he worried she might be a bit of an outcast but instead every man on the crew was like “huh guess I am a dad/older brother now.”

sandersstudies

She was in a car crash on the way to work one morning and called my husband to let him know she’d be late and he was like wtf guess I’m gonna be late too because I’m coming to pick you up and then he told his team and they were like I think you mean WE are coming.

hoonkus-deactivated20230701

Imagine you are a teenage girl probably rushing to get to work and you crash your probably new car and feel absolutely miserable and now you’ll be late to work but then suddenly in the distance a car full of all the adult men you work with just pulls up and is like “we came all the way here to pick you up” the mental image right now is fr.

sandersstudies

Apparently she tried to call her dad but it was 3am and he was obviously sleeping so she called my husband and he not only came to find her but fished her glasses out of the hood of the car (she’d dropped them while looking inside), drove her to the hospital, and told her to take the day off. She insisted on coming back to work so he used his lunch break to watch TV with her to make sure she didn’t doze off (concussion risk).

You’ve heard of the Mom friend but my husband is very much the Dad friend. He said when he answered the phone she said “hey please don’t be mad” and he’s never felt such powerful Fatherhood energy in his life.

deliciouspaintthinner

Girl: *calls for aid*

Every single dad packed into the car:

sandersstudies

This is possibly my favorite response to this post

i-like-to-think-that-im-cool

This girls father: Thanks for helping my daughter out guys

Your husband and all his coworkers:

brightlotusmoon

redstonedust

gender envy usually gets used as a positive to neutral expression but there sure is an evil form of gender envy if you've been in the depths of dysphoria. i have a friend whos talked about hearing news stories of kim petras in highschool and being so jealous it made her angry. i've struggled talking to online friends who got on HRT faster due to their countries better healthcare because obviously i'm happy for them but like. man. ya know its not healthy but if you've been there? you get it. ohhhh you get it.

#when my friend(s) got on hrt or got top surgery #like yes im so proud and happy for you!!!!#but god i wish that were me

mwphisto

"You smell different."

Instead of playing it cool, your body physically ripples as it tenses. You had even gone as far as to scrub yourself before heading over to Valko's place. yet his wolf nose was able to detect... "I smell different?"

It was a lame attempt to recover, your eyebrow quirking upwards in forced confusion as the red headed wolf narrows his eyes. "I've smelt it before but I can't quite figure out where..." you force yourself to swallow the lump in your throat, shifting deeper into the plush of his living room couch as you snatch the remote from his hands.

"I'm sure it's the new shampoo I'm using, let's just watch-" but his hand is quicker, grabbing the remote before you can press play. "No, it's not a scent like that that, it's something else." He’s leaning in, amber eyes darting all over your frame as he tries to locate the source.

“I’ve never smelt it on you, but I’ve smelt it before.” You have to wonder if he can hear your heart threatening to burst out of your ribcage. Or the swelling nausea rising in your stomach as anxiety grips at it. This isn’t exactly how you intended for him to find out, you’ve only been together for a couple months and… “I think I need to call gram.”

Valko’s sudden conclusion yanks you from your spiral, eyebrows knitting together. “Val it’s way too late to bug her.” You could save the poor man from all this trouble by just fessing up, but you couldn’t get the words from your brain to your mouth, it just wasn’t happening.

"You're right..." He looked slightly deflated, nose still twitching in your direction. "... I'll just call auntie instead." Oh for fuck's sake!

"Valko, please." Your voice trembles as you grab his wrist. Stopping him from reaching for his phone and accidentally spreading the news you were not ready to share. "Just, take a second and think about it." You hadn't a clue why you thought a shower would help you in this case, it's not as if you could wash them away or even less the sent of them.

But, his cousin did just have a baby a few weeks back. Surely that is why the smell was lingering so heavy on his mind. That's why he couldn't quite place it on you, you've only been dating for three months at this point. And the lines only showed up this morning...

"Wha-" Pure confusion shone in his eyes, and you knew there was no going back. With your hand still around his wrist, you dragged it over and rested it softly against your lower abdomen. "Think about it." You tried to stop your voice from shaking, but you were petrified of his reaction. It took Valko all of three seconds to piece it together.

"You're pregnant?" A rushed whisper, one you nearly missed with the way your blood was rushing through your ears. "I-I just found out this morning. I was supposed to uhm... get my period like last week and never did so I just wanted to check and well... yeah."

In any other situation, it would be comical the way his wolf ears popped up from his head. Proud and at attention, as his tail started thumping excitedly against the couch. The pounding so hard it was actually making you shake a little. Even if he hadn't said anything verbally yet, it was quite obvious how Valko felt. "That's why you smell different."

Scooting closer, he sniffs you better. "Your hormones are changing, but I can also smell them... Oh my god I got you pregnant." Now you couldn't help but laugh a little as the reality set in for him too, ears stick straight atop his head and amber eyes wide as dinner plates.

"Yes, Val. You got me pregnant. You're stuck with me- us, forever now." His hand didn’t move from your stomach, instead his thumb began softly rubbing it. “I wouldn't have it any other way. I want you with me, always.”

#valko #love and deepspace

Smth smth smth Sylus covering you with his body to protect you from gunfire. His back getting littered with bullets, tearing his clothes, Evol disintegrating them before they can exit and hurt you. It's purely instinctual. His first thought wasn't to use his Evol to destroy the bullets midair or erase the guns from existence or even wipe out the shooters. It was to protect you. Even if it meant hurting himself

After the shooters are dealt with and everything is safe, you look at his back and see all the damage done to his clothes. His skin is already repaired, blood returned to his body. You kiss his back through the burnt fabric. "Thank you, Sy," you murmur. And he knows he would do it again in a heartbeat, even if his Evol was drained and he was sure to die

Also also dragon Sylus who covers you with his body and wings, wrapping you in his clawed arms and holding you tight to his chest as he fights his way free from danger with his tail and pushing foes back with his wings before curling them around you again. Finally finding an opening to fly away, cradling you securely as he gets you out of there. Still watching the ground to make sure no arrows or rockets are fired up, dodging out of the way of any. His precious treasure. The rumbling in his chest vibrating through you as he promises that you're safe from those disgusting humans now

#i need him to protect me god dammit #sylus #dragon sylus #love and deepspace

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