Consider:
Gortash deciding to take the dark urge to a family dinner with his tadpole controlled parents just to torture them a little bit more by making them act like this halve feral bhaalspawn is exactly what every parent dreams of when it comes to their child taking their partner to meet the parents.
(And also because gortash craves validation and wants to force his parents to approve of his precious little bhaal babe)
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Soft sob
I miss my sweet beloved Glitch ;u;
...and his many au versions....
Shh no I'm not making a Glitch harem what are you talking about-
AUUGH
Hug, hug, hug! He has missed you too!!
Teehee his other versions were already getting jealous
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SO ON TWITTER I WAS CRYING WITH ONE OF MY MUTUALS ABOUT HOW BEAUTIFUL AZIRAPHALE LOOKS WITH THAT CARDIGAN THAT HE WEARS INSIDE THE BOOKSHOP AND THIS HAPPENED-
Just Crowley wearing it, cuddles and THAT LITTLE BASTARD BEING THE LOVELIEST ANGEL ON EARTH
Later I’m going to add proper color, I did this as fast I can bcs today I’m busy so be patient plz
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Earl Grey, Lavender, and a Bow | Levi x Reader
notes: alright... i'm back after a mini hiatus for my love's birthday. here's a lil drabble.
content: levi x reader, canonverse ig? just you being sweet for levi's birthday xx
cw: sfw, but really mild mentions of grief/loss if you squint
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Levi never knew how you learned his birthday. He’d managed to keep that information unwaveringly private, despite Hange’s desperate attempts and sleepless nights wildly digging through archives to uncover it. He suspected that, perhaps Erwin knew, but if so, never said a word, which went much appreciated by Levi.
Levi’s birthday was something he’d rather not acknowledge. He never did like a fuss, or an excess of attention, or spirited social gatherings. He didn’t see the point in celebrating another year while so many of his comrades would not… could not…
In fact, the first year he’d known you, he’d honestly forgotten about the occasion himself. It was a quiet day and frigidly cold, as it always was that time of year. The sun set early, pale orange and icy blue hues loosely sinking beneath the edge of the Walls, the remaining faded light sparkling over the new layer of snow.
It crunched like muffled sighs underneath his shoes as he walked back to Headquarters from the local tea shop. He’d restocked on Earl Grey and crushed lavender, but he’d been hoping to find a rare blend, black and earthy leaves specific to the season, but unfortunately left empty-handed.
The wind picked up and Levi pulled his scarf tighter around him. Three young children threw snowballs at each other in the middle of the street, their cheeks pinched rosy from the cold, while their laughter swelled innocently and bright into the evening. It was simple. But it was everything. He walked on.
By the time he made it back to Headquarters he had buried his nose into his scarf and his black hair was decorated with a white dusting of flurried snowflakes. The building was more quiet than usual, as everyone had a few weeks off and whoever had families went to spend time with them. Of course, there were many members who had learned to make a family out of their fellow soldiers, including a select few from Levi’s own squad, and they milled about in the dining commons while Levi passed by as a shadow, on his way back to his office to prepare for tea with you, a nightly routine that the two of you had fallen into much like snowflakes fall to the earth; effortless and weightless, but falling nonetheless.
He unlocked the door to his office, leaning back against it until it clicked closed, sighed. He unwrapped his scarf from around him, peeled off his mittens and placed them neatly on his desk, setting his coat on the back of his chair. He went to light the fire and then began to prepare the tea. He turned again to his desk, where he’d left his packages, and spotted something red just on the corner.
He blinked. A subtle red bow. Atop a grey-blue tin box. Right next to his mittens. How did he miss this?
Levi picked it up, analyzed the print on the front of the box, and realized it was the tea he was unable to find earlier.
He ran his thumb over the velvet of the bow, and then he remembered.
He felt the soft fabric under his skin. And then he realized.
He didn’t have to ask who’d left it. Just the other week, he’d mentioned he was looking for this tea during one of your late night conversations. And you always listened.
Not much later you were sat across from him, sipping the tea he’d just poured for you. You brought the cup to your lips, tasting, and mused,
“Mm, new blend?”
“Just got it today.”
“It’s nice.”
The fire crackled beside you. He eyed you.
“How’d you know?”
You smiled into your cup.
“Know what?”
A small grin pulled at the corners of his lips, which he hid as he sipped.
“Brat…
Thank you.”
©2022 thephantomtheory | do not repost my work anywhere, and do not plagiarize (reblogs much appreciated)
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