im noticing that for a lot of americans “free palestine” has been an ideological motto and symbol rather than them actually believing in their heart that freedom is attainable and necessary

tw - blood, mentions of death, slight kidnapping, and spoilers for dungeon meshi.

You could remember Laios once mentioning that dragons mate for life.

It would've been impossible to remember why he brought it up, whether you'd been foolish enough to ask him or if he'd offered the unwanted information in a more general conversation on monster behavior, but the fact stuck. Dragons, like most birds and reptiles, mated for life, and were unlikely to take another partner if their first mate died. At the time, you could remember thinking that it made sense. Like most monsters in the dungeon, dragons relied on a cycle of reincarnation and didn't age, meaning there was no environmental pressure to reproduce. And, even if it was only on some base, animalistic level, the reincarnation cycle meant that dragons knew their fallen mates would eventually return, even if they would have to wait a few months, a few years, a few decades. If you'd been a kinder person, you might've went so far as to call it romantic.

Dragons mate for life. You guessed that went for Falin too, now - or, the vicious creature that was wearing her face, at least.

You could only be thankful that you didn't have very long left to live.

You could feel it coming. Falin had managed to get you away from the battlefield, but you'd been injured in the fight - whether by her claw's or an ally's sword, you couldn't be sure. Blood was rushing out of the deep gash stretching across your chest without reservation, soaking into the leather of your armor and pooling on the stone floor beneath you. You couldn't remember how you got hurt, and you couldn't remember how you'd gotten here, either - to a belltower tall enough to overlook most of the abandoned city, decorated only with a few colorless feather and bones you could only hope belonged to another wretched creature. Your vision was fogged and dim, your arms too heavy to raise and your legs too numb to move, but you were almost thankful for the paralysis - it kept the worst of the pain at bay. You were thankful to die, too, even if you knew you shouldn't be. There'd be no one to resurrect you, but you didn't mind. If you died here, it would mean that you'd never have to find out just how many people died because of a monster with Falin's face, her hands, her magic. If you died here, you'd never have to see the creature she'd become again.

You tried to close your eyes, to let go of the last of your strength before it could be taken from you forcibly, but the sound of talons scraping against stone brought what was left of your conscious back to the surface. With no small amount of effort, you managed to turn your head to the bell tower's largest window - or, more accurately, to Falin, even if you could no longer say she was your Falin, anymore. Her wounds were still fresh, many of her ivory feather still soaked with red, and she was already looking at you, already smiling so gently that your heart might've beat a little faster, if it'd been able to beat at all. Despite yourself, you smiled too, as you met her eyes. You smile had never been as pretty as hers, of course, but she'd always liked it when you could pretend to be happy.

Your kept your eyes locked with hers as she approached, the movements of her great body slow, only somewhat labored. The floor of the bell tower shook as she lowered herself to your height, her hand coming down to cup your cheek. You couldn't stop yourself. You leaned into her palm, into her warmth, letting out a rattling exhale as her thumb traced idle patterns into your skin. Maybe she would be kind enough to put you out of your misery a few seconds early, but even if she didn't, you wouldn't mind. So long as you could die in Falin's arms, you'd be happy.

Her lips didn't move. She didn't move. She said nothing, did nothing, and yet, with little more warning than a dull, green glow in the corner of your vision, you felt warmth flood out of her skin and into yours. There was a single bolt of pure, unforgiving agony around the edges of your injury and then, nothing.

For a second, you let yourself believe that you were dead. Falin killed you, and you were dead. You had to be dead.

And then, something hot and thick caught in your throat and you lurched forward, coughing into your hands. By the time you pulled away, your palms were fleshed with bloody tissue and the gash across your chest was gone, replaced with a blank expanse of exposed, unblemished skin. She'd healed you. Resurrected you.

Your gaze rose back to Falin. Her smile didn't waver, but her hand fell away from your cheek and found your own. Gently, she to her chest and with her free hand, slid something onto your finger. It took you a moment to recognize the cold burn of chilled metal, the way the ring glinted gold where it caught the light. It was her ring - the ring you'd given her after Marcille's resurrection, the ring you'd given her as you asked her to marry you, then apologized for not having a matching pair.

She cupped your hand, when she was done, her eyes darting up to meet yours. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse, low. If you hadn't been so terrified, you might've called it beautiful.

"My love."

Muahaha, empty queue, time to strike! I'd like to request giving Kaeya, Thoma and Alhaitham massages! Those poor handsome men work so hard, their poor sexy backs and shoulders must ache from carrying so much sexiness, they aught to be nicely rubbed & massaged!

Can be SFW or NSFW, honestly, whatever you fancy!

Kaeya doesn't try to let his pain bother you. He doesn't want to make you feel bad considering how much you already worry about him due to the nature of his job but sometimes he can't help the way he winces as he moves around the room. You notice immediately that he's in pain and wait until the time is right to strike.

He doesn't notice you sneaking behind him until it's too late, lightly pushing him against the bed and straddling his back with the weight of your body. He's forced to lay beneath you, about to ask what you're doing when he suddenly feels your hands on his back.

You start pressing into his muscles insistently, the relief so immediate that he can't bite back the yawn that it pushes from him. Your hands are like magic on his skin and thanks to the fatigue of the day he might accidentally fall asleep without thinking about it.

When he wakes up the next morning he'll pull you closer and whisper an apology into your ear. He promises to make it up to you by returning the favour, giving you a massage that's just as good as the one you gave him.

Thoma is always sore and it's become a part of your routine to give him a massage when he gets home. He doesn't ask for it but you've started doing it and now you don't want to stop. Even if it's a shorter session you don't want to leave him without, worried that it'll just make him even more sore.

He's always very thankful for the way that it gives you time to spend together. He likes being near you and whenever you give him a massage it gives the two of you time to catch up about your respective days.

He also likes physical touch so to him receiving a massage basically does everything for him! He gets so many of his love languages fulfilled just by being near you like this and of course returns the favour by cooking and taking you out for special meals to remind you just how much you mean to him.

Al Haitham is a little surprised when you shrug off some of his outer layers to start running your hands on his body. He lets you do as you please, even more surprised when he realises just how nice it feels to have your hands working on his shoulders.

He doesn't say much but you can tell that he likes it by the way he sinks into the couch and closes his eyes. For the first time in a while his mind goes completely blank, focusing only on the relaxing feeling smoothing out his tense muscles.

When you're done he pulls you into his lap and gives you a kiss to your temple, his soft display of affection making butterflies dance around your stomach desperately. You know how much he appreciates it by how handsy he gets with you, not wanting to let you go and being a little chattier than usual as well. You don't mind at all, responding to him animatedly and mentally making plans on how to give him a better massage in the future.

me when i fucking GET you

I have been saving this since last year. Happy Earth Day everyone.

London, 11 April 2024 (x)

"Eat the Rich / I would but they are tasteless"

Seen in Krakow, Poland

writers and artists will go "this isn't good enough." my brother in christ, you're creating something new out of nothing and expressing yourself creatively. your productivity and unrealistic standards of perfection do not define you or the worth of your art. you're doing great.

I hope you fall in love with someone who never lets you fall asleep thinking you're unwanted.

love when his eyes do this

Marcille x Male Reader headcanons!

She leaves you for a woman.