#firefly writing

[fireflylitsky]

Some Andy and Fuko for Valentine's Day

The fic to go with it: Middle of The Night

Rated: E Word Count: 10k Pairing: Andy(Undead Unluck)/Fuuko Izumo Summary: Fuko has a nightmare. Andy has an idea. He's pretty sure he can take her mind off things.

#Undead Unluck #Andy/Fuuko #andy x fuuko #anfuu #Undead Andy #Fuuko Izumo #Valentines's Day #TW: Suggestive #Fanfiction #Sweet jesus I love this ship #Firefly art #Art for a fic #Fic: middle of the night #firefly writing

[radiant-flutterbun]

Pavona has a bio now!

#tcotg #firefly writing #firefly flits

[sylverstorms]

~Honkai: Star Rail Women and How they Hug You~

Characters: Kafka  |  Black Swan  |  Acheron |  Firefly  |  Robin |  Himeko  

Warnings: None, SFW.

Kafka is always hot. In every sense of the word. 

Even in the heart of winter, she is a source of endless heat when you join her on the couch after missions. With her mauve hair loose, she is the personification of temptation as she languidly motions for you to come closer. Once you’re within reach, her fingers slide like liquid over your nape, pull you flush against her, with your head resting on either her shoulder or her generous chest. 

She loves to talk low in your ear while she holds you like this, fingernails gently scratching at the base of your neck. Sometimes, she shares details about her missions. If she’s in a naughtier mood, however, expect the kinkiest things to fill your ears, until you’re blazing red. 

Black Swan feels like a cool spring. A calm oasis for you to rest in, for however long you wish. 

All you have to do is speak her name into the aether, and she will come to you, as soon as she is able. Be it after nightmares or long days, you always smile when you feel your bed dip with a familiar weight. Her graceful arms encircle your neck, guiding you onto her chest. If you’ve closed your eyes, overcome by the bliss, before you see her amused smile, then you will feel it on your skin when she kisses you. 

Hugging her is heavenly. Like you’re enveloped in a cloud. Soft, fresh, plush in all the right places. And as soon as she asks you how her ‘dear’ or ‘darling’ is faring, if you missed her, that is when you utterly melt.      

Acheron is steady and so very safe. 

It’s like nothing in the world can touch you while you’re with her. She’s not one to initiate long embraces first, hesitant due to her powers, but if the two of you are alone she will often cast you a longing look that speaks volumes of how badly she wants to be close to you. One she hopes you don’t catch, even though you always do.  

When she hugs you, her strong arms wrap around you like you are the most precious thing in the world. She likes to tuck her chin onto your shoulder, sometimes turn into your neck, breathing you in. Her body is firm from years of combat, but her skin is so soft to the touch. The corner of her lip always tugs upwards in amusement when you caress her abs (which is every chance you get).

Firefly is an absolute sweetheart. 

Do you want to hold her? She will stop whatever she is doing and immediately come over to you. More often than not, she ends up curled into your lap with her arms around your shoulders. Adores nuzzling into your neck and pressing her cheek against yours like a little kitten. If you kiss her jaw or temple, she will melt in your arms. 

Very sensitive. If your lips caress her neck, best believe she will make a sound and immediately turn tomato-red. No matter how long you’ve been together, flirting in this position will result in her cheeks growing hot. Which only makes you want to tease her that much more. 

Robin is always a delight to hug. Cosy and sweet and soft. 

She absolutely flushes at the smallest hint of PDA if other people are around, but she will not deny you ever. Behind closed doors is a different story though. The girl will come over to you and wrap her arms around you from behind, silently asking to be held because she’s often too shy to say it. If you toy with her hair, massage her back or nuzzle into her wings, she will shiver against you. 

Likes to trace small shapes on your skin with her fingertips when you’re cuddling. Will die inside and go to heaven if you do it to her first. If you simply lay together, relaxing, she may start humming a tune by your ear in her angelic voice. A privilege reserved for her one and only <3

Himeko is soothing in every way. The way she smells, the way she touches you, the way she makes you feel. 

She is gentle like the warmth of a fireplace after a long trudge through snow and she never gets tired of holding you. You don’t even have to ask. One look and she will know to come over and embrace you. If other members of your team are around, she establishes small points of contact, like an arm around your waist or a hand at the small of your back. Until you are alone, where she will fully guide you into her arms. 

Loves to gently massage your back or run her thumb in small circles between your shoulderblades. Always exhales a soft chuckle if you kiss her collarbone and tell her how good she feels. You are so comfortable when you sleep against her perfect body that you have trouble sleeping without. Not that she minds this one bit.     

#honkai star rail #honkai x reader #kafka x reader #himeko x reader #black swan x reader #acheron x reader #robin x reader #firefly x reader #hsr #fanfiction #creative writing #star rail #I have a bad case of Honkai women brainrot #does it show? #penacony

[1nterstell4r]

How She Spends Valentines Day With You.

HSR [Penacony] Females x reader

robin loves to spend valentines day with you. she gets you a pretty bouquet of flowers that she picked out just for you. to be honest, she spent a while pondering which flowers you'd like the best and even asked the botanist about what each flower meant in the language of flowers.

firefly is very excited, getting you a box of candy to show her appreciation and love towards you. she takes you to her secret spot as a date spot so you both won't get interrupted by anyone else. it's honestly the perfect spot to settle down together and have a little picnic.

black swan is delighted when you present her a gift for valentines. she accepts it gracefully and opens it with a smile when she sees what's inside. she can't help but cherish whatever gift you might have gotten her.

hanabi (sparkle) is surprised when you give her a gift for valentines. are you sure that's really meant for her? well, if you say so! she's not opposed to valentines day but it's not really her thing. she will try to gift you something in return later in the day.

acheron didn't even remember it was valentines day but has a soft smile on her face when you present her with a gift. she's set on getting something as a gift for you as well but can't seem to find the right thing that she wants to give you. she just can't decide on the perfect valentines day gift.

do not repost this writing elsewhere. thank you. -mod cyno

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai impact x reader #honkai star rail #꒰mod cyno | writing꒱ #hanabi x reader #sparkle x reader #acheron x reader #black swan x reader #firefly x reader #robin x reader

[milky-aeons]

𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋

౨ৎ . . . in which a demon realises he can, in fact, love after all.

warnings: female reader, ballerina!reader, pregnancy, childhood, estranged/separated parents, w.c 1.4k

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who was granted the alias demon from his enemies. A man capable of staring death directly in the eye and laughing, inviting him for a cordial game of chess. Such a monster had no plans to procreate. It was a miscalculation — that night he had spent with one of the ballet dancers from the Bolshoi Theatre when he was barely but a man. Even at eighteen, Fyodor Dostoevsky knew he was a heavenly messenger sent to carry out God's will. What was a little fun to be had before he did?

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, three years later, halfway across the sea in a foreign country standing at the Yokohama Portside. In his gloved hands was a page, a single page, worn from weathering the onslaught of its travel to him. His eyes had already scanned the Russian cursive once, twice, a hundred times over. There were very few things that left the Demon Fyodor speechless in this world. But those words, those four little words;

𝐹𝓎𝑜𝒹𝑜𝓇, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝑜𝓃. 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓀𝑒𝓅𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝑜 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who was initially going to write this surprise off as just that — a surprise. A miscalculation. For they were always probable in every endeavour; were what made the grand game so very fun, indeed. He had much larger ambitions to conquer. So it was a shock, when the lead members of the Decay of Angels could not locate him at their hideout the very next day. He had said he would be there. Instead, there was a note speared into the concrete wall in his stead — one that announced his impromptu travels to Russia, with no date of when he would return.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who didn't really expect anything from this world so foul and dull. To carry out God's will meant removing oneself from their species, casting your emotions aside, your humanity. And yet, as he approached the same ballet house he had met you in three years into the past, his breath was coming out a little quicker. Impatient, expectant? He was not attached to anyone — he couldn't be. But to have a son, to be a father?

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who looked just as beautiful as the first night he had met you. Your eyes were no longer haunted with the pressures of other's expectations. Now, they were clear. And there were also two identical pairs of them. Fyodor stared at the little creature who blinked owlishly up at him from where he sat on the floor — his hands balled around a stuffed animal, chewing at its' ear. This thing; it had the same jet-black hair as his in wild little tufts about his crown. He had Fyodor's eyebrows, the almond shape of his eyes. He took one look at the child that was meant to be his and felt something shift inside him, and also, something break.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who was nervous but apprehensive to allow your son near the man who stole your heart so easily in the past. The streets didn't lie — you had heard about his criminal activities, even this far into the continent, people spoke of his name in rushed, fearful whispers — as if the walls were his messengers. But every time you looked at your son, you were reminded of him. And staring at him now, the resemblance was uncanny. Your boy continued to gawp at his father with wonder, with not so much as a shred of fear for this so called Demon.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who took some time to hold his son in his arms. To hold him meant to accept this truth, to feel his warm little body and know that indeed, he had a son. And the first time, it was by complete accident. The little boy had an awful penitence for mischief, just like his father. In one moment, Fyodor had noticed him wobbling on the top of a rickety set of bookshelves. In the next, there was a snap, a cry, and his entire body had moved by itself. He caught the small bundle in his outstretched arms. To thank him, the boy reached up to tug on one of his long hairs.

"Such a little trouble riser, you are." He had scorned, but the corners of his lips had curved into a smile.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who watched a change in Fyodor Dostoevsky over the next coming weeks. He became softer around the edges. He stuck around. His eyes weren't as impenetrable and distant. You would wake up at sunrise with the intent to prepare some breakfast for your little boy, only to find him already there, sitting cross-legged with his son in the living room and sharing some roughly cut apple. Or during the night when you must put him down for bed — Fyodor was already there, capable of telling when exactly his son wished for sleep. Sometimes, you'd hang around the doorframe and watch as he placed the boy into his bed. So gently, so unlike him, as if he knew he held the entire world in his hands.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who entertained his son through slight-of-hand. Whether it be by hiding small candies underneath three cups and shuffling them around, pulling a coin from behind his ear, making his favourite stuffed animal disappear only to reappear on his bed right before sleep. There was a certain unique reaction he'd get from the boy — like he was always seeing the same tricks for the very first time. Fyodor did not feel amused, nor did he feel typical paternal love, but he did wait for the day where his son grew older so he could teach him all his little tricks, too.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who chose an isolated canopy in the ballet house to play a long-forgotten cello — perhaps once belonging to a choir that performed here. He'd glide the bow across its strings, producing a melancholy tune. But then, the door would creak open, and in the little creature would crawl. Fyodor would stop playing when he noticed his sudden audience — eyes similar to his staring up at him in wonder. And, completely unbidden, Fyodor found himself composing a different piece. Lighter, chipper beats that took inspiration from my little sunshine. His son would laugh and clap his hands, singing his own song in broken words and sounds. Fyodor would reply;

"My, it shall not be long before you're up on the stage, too. Right beside your mother."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who invited Fyodor on a walk with just the three of you. Your son in the middle, you and your parted lover on either side. It had snowed that day in Russia — and your son took great delight in stomping big, messy holes wherever he walked.

"Won't you stay?"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who hadn't meant to say those words. You knew, deep down you knew this man could never be the father you wanted him to be. You stood on two different planes of the universe; orbiting this little boy that kept you both still connected. But you had seen something in him these past few weeks. Perhaps it was just a fabrication of your own desires. But for those few little days, Fyodor Dostoevsky had come back to you, he had been a constant, he had been a father.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who didn't say anything right away when you spoke those words tinged with such hope. He kept his eyes distant towards the snowfall. His attention, however, could not be distracted for long. There was a tugging at his long coat's edge, a face smaller than his own but no less similar peering up at him.

"Stay, Dada," The little boy said. "Stay and play in snow!"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who's lips softened into a small little smile. He couldn't stay, not yet. But maybe one day he could have this. When his work was done, when he could finally turn away from the weight on his shoulders of such humanly sin. The Demon, however, was reminded that in moments such as these, humanity could also be quite beautiful.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who bent down to pick his son up under the arms and hoisted him into the air. The child shrieked in glee, and Fyodor said;

"I'm afraid I can't stay to play in the snow this time. But one day, I will. I'll come back to you and watch how you've learned to fly, moy malenki angel."

➸ мой маленький ангел/moy malenki angel : Russian, to mean 'my little angel'.

✎ . . . requested by lovely nonnie!

WRITING REQUESTS

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs fanfiction #bsd fanfiction #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor bsd #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #🎋 — writing requests #dividers by firefly graphics!!

[incorrectstarrailquotes]

Firefly: Sore throats might be the stupidest response to illness I've ever experienced. Oh you want to eat? Drink?? Breathe air??? TEN THOUSAND KNIVES ATTACK

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail incorrect quotes #hsr firefly #posted during version 2.0 #edited the tag after writing fireflu instead of firefly

[princessfbi]

Buck: YOU ONLY DRINK TEA AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME?

Tommy: you never asked 😊

Plot twist this is when they have the “are you my boyfriend” conversation.

Buck says “idk if I can have a boyfriend who doesn’t have a single coffee bean in this kitchen.”

Tommy looks incredibly fond while he waits for Buck to catch up. Reaches around him to pull out the small bag he bought for Buck. Kisses him on the corner of his mouth all while Buck stands stock still in a hard blue screen moment.

Finally Tommy takes pity on him and says “boyfriend huh?”

And Buck’s whole face goes bright pink as he stares up at him. “Yea… Is that… I mean…”

Tommy turns him he can press him up against the counter, caging him in as his hands curl beneath his sleep shirt to press into his skin.

“I like the sound of boyfriends. What do you think?”

And Buck lets out a breath as that smile takes over his face. He nods leaning into Tommy’s touch.

“Yeah. I… I like it too.”

#bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #kinley #firefly #bewilderedbuckley #royal decree #writing talk

[kakujis]

✧ 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍. ✧

synopsis: the sano royal family is almighty, all-powerful, unrelenting. royalty must be, it comes with the territory. you must consume to survive. and what are you but a lowly maid within their palace walls?

i. serenato - prince kakucho’s been gone for months without a single letter back home, you wonder if he’s even coming back.

ii. oblivious - prince mikey can’t help but feel that something’s wrong with his closest friends, especially baji, head of the royal guard.

iii. fairytale - an arranged marriage won’t stop prince izana from reaching his dream.

iv. aria - when shinichiro becomes king, the two of you come to terms with the death of your forever.

✩ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐍. ✩

synopsis: these stories focus on non-prince members, such as the royal guard. (more info soon!)

i. sandpiper - baji used to be the head of the royal guard, and your mind always wonders why he defected to valhalla, leaving you behind.

ii. snow falling - if there is solace in one thing, it's your moonlit meetings with chifuyu.

iii. story loading...

iv. story loading...

NOTES: hi! this is an au i've had in the back of my brain for a while, and i sort of delved into it last year when i wrote a couple of those prince!headcanons and that one izana scenario. each story will come with a link to the kalafina song that inspired them! ♡ the y/n in each story is a separate character, but there will be no names and will stay x reader. each story will come with their individual warnings, make sure to read them. some will be sfw and some will be nsfw. please keep in mind, everything here is subject to change and stories will be uploaded sporadically. also, i'll try my best to write them in order, but we'll see! also, if there's enough interest i'll open a taglist. ♡

ETA: i will ask if you are a minor/ageless blog to please refrain from interacting with the nsfw stories, there will be a few.

© kakujis please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate any of my work.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tokrev smut #tokrev fluff #royal au #tokrev #kakucho x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #manjiro sano x reader #izana kurokawa x reader #baji keisuke x reader #chifuyu matsuno x reader #tr prince miniseries #dividers by cafekitsune and firefly-graphics #pibby writing

[thepenultimateword]

More alien thoughts:

So you know how fireflies glow in order to attract mates? What if there was an alien species that did that. They may be insectoid, they may not be, but in any case, they just flirtatiously light up at people they’re interested in. Or maybe they also just use it as a sign that they want to form friendly relations. So when they first meet other species they blink their lights at them to show them they’re friendly.

I was reading someone’s post about how a lot people dislike bugs but like fireflies because they glow. So maybe most humans warm up to them pretty quickly because the lights immediately make them seem more cute and appealing. Later, humans need to differentiate a friendly blink from a flirtatious one.

Meanwhile, a mimicking species also glows, however they use their glow to draw in prey (like a lantern fish does). Knowing that their sister species is peace loving and trusted by the other species, they use their similar luminescent abilities to their advantage. Space soon needs to learn to pick out little differences between the two species so they know what they’re getting into when they’re glowed at—do they think you’re cute or do they think you’re dinner?

Aaand because I love unlikely relationship dynamics, maybe in very rare occasions, the aggressive species actually does come to like a human/other species, but people have a hard time trusting them because of the general behavior of their planet.

I’m imagining a human with an aggressive glowing partner, and they’re introducing them to friends like, “Look, my partner is so cute! They glow at me! It was so cute how blinky they were when we first met!”

And then everyone is like “O.O That’s one of the homicidal ones…”

#alien thoughts #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #writing snippet #creative writing #prompt #story idea #worldbuilding #sci-fi #writblr #alien x human #fireflies #space fiction #humans and aliens #writing prompt #brainstorm #humans are space orcs

[vmp3ater]

YESSSSSSS YOU ADDED FIREFLY OMG.AAAAAAHHHHH I NEED TO PLEASE HR SO BAD LIKE . shed be SUUUCH a huge sub I NEED TO EAT HER OUT I SWEAR 🦈

sub firefly x dom gn reader

firefly is the sweetest thing ever. always wanting you to take care of her when she needs it the most, and god how adorable she is when you’re buried in between her thighs, lapping at her cunt like you would die without it, squirming and whimpering out how good you make her feel

i JUST know she’d be the type to let out tiny gasps when you do something unexpected. like shoving two fingers deep inside her, curling them to graze her sweet spot while flicking her clit with your tongue, this poor girl whines out about how much she wants to cum but you let her, cause she looks so beautiful when she does

godd i just. i love firefly so much

#vmp thirsts. #firefly thirsts. #lol i’ve actually planned on writing for her for a while #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #sub honkai star rail #hsr smut #hsr x reader #sub hsr #firefly #firefly smut #firefly x reader #sub firefly #dom reader #gn reader

[buqbite]

I like to imagine that her gentleness is genuine

#Havent used this brush in forever #it's usually too soft for my generally very... jagged art #ill write down some thoughts later lemme write the fandom tags first lol #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr robin #hsr spoilers #implied... its hella subtle tho #my art #(pulls out the plastic chair) ok listen up. #first of all i leaned a bit into the old timey tv style bc i felt like itd fit her vibe ykno #second of all the little pinkish thing behind her is meant to resemble a) a blood splatter and b) xipes fucked up halo #penacony is so fucked up and twisted and all while robin has been genuinely kind so far #Like even firefly was kind of weird and suspicious but she appears so earnest #and Im really curious how the story is gonna go for her. Im expecting her to still be alive in some way #Esp so we can find out why she left penacony #and her connection to the family #my hope is for her to be out of place in the place that should perfectly fit her vibe #alternatively itd be rlly funny if she was like. evil. not evil evil but more like Hey Remember How The Harmony Is A Hivemind

[fireflylitsky]

THE CUTEST BABES FROM @moonamayillu for my fic Yokai Sunset

I am clutching them to my chest and heaving with love they are so perfect and adorable 🥰

(despite how very cute this art is, mind the tags as the fic has many horror/gore/adult themes)

#KisaSaku #Kisame Hoshigaki #sakura haruno #moonamayillu #Art commission #Crazy adorable art #Sakura with a big sword #GIVE SAKURA KUBIKIRIBOCHO #Yes Kisame is smitten af by her muscles #Buff Sakura #Pushing my agenda of GIVE 👏 SAKURA 👏KUBIKIRIBOCHO 👏 #Post-Apocalyptic AU #Yes Sakura is obviously an adult #comming art as motivation to finish the next chapter #Art for a fic #Fic: yokai sunset #Firefly Writing

[radiant-flutterbun]

Because @actualmanedrasa requested it - Here’s a brief overview of Corkscrew’s lore:

He used to work in the Flamecaller’s forges and hated it. He then got hurt and nearly died, and it was believed he WAS dead until a ridgeback by the name of Fireworks discovered signs of life in him. She got him help and he healed, but was paralyzed from the neck down, and had bad memory problems.

Fireworks met another spiral named Alaria who claimed she could rebuild Corkscrew’s spine. And she did, so he’s no longer paralyzed, but his mechanic spine does require a lot of maintenance and frequently malfunctions.

He later befriends a mirror within the clan named Clytius and together Clytius, Fireworks and Corkscrew form a little found family. Sadly for Corkscrew, Fireworks left to study the Hewn City and he lost contact with her for over a year. And Clytius was killed during a conflict within the clan. So he was left alone.

Thankfully Cork met another mirror named Firespitter. Firespitter is an oracle and cannot control when he sees his prophecies. He’s also a professional chef and makes a killer soup. The two fell in love. Fireworks also returned from the Hewn City, and Cork’s life has been relatively peaceful since.

Currently he’s pissed off at the young teenage coatl, Muerto because Muerto lets his cats roam the clan freely and Cork has had to save his pet rat from said cats more than once. Cork is also constantly annoyed by the Stormseeker left in his care by actualmanedrasa’s dragon Weatherby.

And here’s a brief overview of my main clan’s lore:

The clan was originally called Seeking Clan and was founded by a mirror named Nightbane and a tundra named Icetip. Nightbane was rewarded the land by the Lightweaver, for her excellent academics. Nightbane accepted any dragon into her clan, no questions asked.

Unfortunately she allowed a particularly violent skydancer within her clan named Sapphiremoon. This dragon planned to kill and overthrow Nightbane. Another dragon, a mirror named Shiningscourage had plans to attack the clan because she knew of a treasure hidden within the clan. Both Sapphire and Shining convinced dragons within the clan to join them, and a three way fight broke out.

Sapphire attempted to kill Nightbane, but Shining interfered and killed Sapphire. Nightbane and Shining were at a stand still, when a mirror named Nike saved Nightbane and beat up Shining.

A fire accidentally started by a fae named Flare is what ended the fight. Several dragons died (such as Clytius who was a brother to Corkscrew), including Nightbane’s daughter, Nightlight. Nightbane and the dragons loyal to her fled, while most of those who were loyal to Sapphire and Shining stayed to the ruined clan.

The group of dragons that followed Nightbane found a new home near the Beacon of the Radiant Eye. They now lived in an old library by the sea. Nightbane decided to retire and made Nike leader, and the clan was renamed to Clan Ton Theon.

The dragons that stayed with Shining became Clan Lampsi, and they rebuilt from the ruins.

Both clans had skirmishes with each other, Clan Ton Theon accidentally upset a flock of harpies, and Clan Lampsi had been attacked by an Emperor. So things haven't exactly been peaceful, but these dragons are trying to live their best lives.

#firefly writing #clan ton theon #clan lampsi

[gl1tteryzebra]

I had a very pleasant interaction with a cute blonde-headed mechanic recently, now all I can think about is mechanic!jj...

the patchy sliver of shade provided by a low hanging loblolly offered a small reprieve from the heat. jj's signature collared shirt was now hanging open as he tinkered away beneath the bonnet of your car – that was how you knew it was truly sweltering.

it was a miracle you'd been able to rummage that half torn napkin from the depths of your centre console. after your engine stuttered to a stop on the side of some desolate road you were certain you were screwed– 6pm on a sunday night, even if you did manage to coax someone out to wherever you were, the rates would surely plummet your bank account into a state of despair– and then you remembered.

a few months back when you last had car trouble, the blonde slid a crumby piece of tissue across the till at his workshop with a wink, a number scribbled in blotchy red ink.

"you should really invest in a business card." you'd said with a grimace as remnants of whatever he'd been eating drifted down like heavy snowflakes.

" uh–well actually," he reached into his breast pocket, removing a wad of neatly stacked cards bound together by an elastic band. "we're one step ahead of you, sugar."

he passed one of the sleek black cards over as well, albeit a little reluctantly."what's this for then?" you inquired with furrowed brows and he laughed at that, genuinely tickled.

"oh that— that's just in case you're ever in need of my personal assistance."

and it was almost as though today was his manifestation coming too fruition.

off in the distance, through the thicket and beyond the marsh, remnants of daylight peeked over the horizon like a fragile yolk ready to spill into darkness at any moment. you wanted nothing more than to be tucked into bed with a warm cup of tea and your favourite book, but whatever was wrong with your car seemed to not be a simple fix.

patting down the pleats of your skirt, you paced leisurely back and forth before eventually clearing your throat. "how's she looking?"

"she?" his blonde head peeked out from behind the hunk of metal, interest glistening in those pale blue orbs.

"yeah, pinkie. are you telling me you don't name your beloved vehicle?" (the vehicle in question: his beaten up honda CRF 230 which currently laid discarded in a pothole with an open tool box spilling its content onto the side of the road.)

he snickered, removing his cap to wipe the sweat from his brow. "guess you got me there– that's bessie, the finest lass on the road."

you scoffed, "why bessie of all things?"

"oh-kay, there's no way I'll be judged by someone who named their car pinkie...and its not even pink."

"it wasn't available at the time!"

his lips tugged into a downward crescent, mocking your face as it contoured into an earnest pout. "now that's a true tragedy– oh, 'n you happen to go through a car wash recently?"

"uh–yeah. today actually, why?"

"welllll you got water stuck in the engine cylinders, blocking up the emission control system. it got real stinky in the cabin right?"

"yeah it did, almost as bad as a guys locker room."

"ha! sounds 'bout right," his ring clad fingers reached above his head to pull the bonnet down. your eyes naturally drifted to his exposed midriff; lean muscles stretching taut, flecks of sun damage marring his pale skin, a defined v dipping below his waistline...

snapping out of your stupor, your gaze lifted to be met with a knowing smirk– shit. you were surprised when he didn't comment on the fact that you'd so shamelessly checked him out, but even more so as he rushed to pack up his tool box almost bashfully. "uh–so fancy this, I don't actually have the tools I need to fix it on me."

"really? I thought you said you kept everything you ever need on hand."

"huh–oh yeah, well one of the boys must've stolen my shit, bloody typical."

"right...what should I do then?" he flicked his grimy hair from his forehead, regarding you with an impish grin.

"come back to the shop. I'll get my guy to tow your pinkie in tonight, get 'er fixed up bright an' early in the mornin' so you can be on your merry way."

"it's not exactly close to my house–"

he shrugged, persistent as ever, "that's cool, no worries, we've got a couch and some blankets if you wanna stay the night."

"what about you?"

"well I can't risk a thief in the night, can I? best if I stay too."

you resisted the urge to snort, what an idiot. "how am I supposed to get back to your shop now though?"

his eyes spoke for themself, gesturing to his bike as is if that was a stupid question. "oh–no, no no no no no, no way." your hands wildly gesticulated. no, absolutely not. you knew enough about jj's reckless and impulsive nature to guess how this would present itself in other areas of his life– most of a concern to you in this moment, his driving.

"hey, there's need to be scared sugar, I always drive extra careful with precious cargo." he cut himself off with a boyish chuckle as your face morphed into something deeply unimpressed. "c'mon, it's not exactly like you have any other choice...so whadd'ya say?"

you settled onto the back of his bike with a grumble, hands shooting up to adjust the helmet he loaned you (his only helmet). the engine revved to an obnoxious start and with a shriek you hurried cling onto his waist– heart thumping erratically behind your ribs.

"comfy?"

"shut up."

"holdin' me a bit tight, sweetheart. sure you're not enjoying this?"

"shut. up."

his chest rumbled with laughter as he took off into the sunset.

~

couldn't be bothered to get down and dirty with this one tonight, think I might just make a pt.2

🎀 @seabunni 🎀

#jj maybank drabble #jj maybank prompt #divider by @firefly-graphics #mechanic!jj #jj maybank x reader #want to write more about this #so if you have prompts send em in!! #especially smutty ones hehe #obx x reader

[andiwriteordie]

tonight i am thinking about baby miwi running around the wheelers’ backyard and catching fireflies in little jars together 

#byler #or actually #miwi #i think mike is doing the catching #will is excitedly staring at the contained fireflies with him #a firefly lands on mike's nose and will is giggling the whole time #and they're just running around until karen calls them inside to go to bed #idk just slice of life miwi makes me sO EMOTIONAL #i might write this as a ficlet one day.

[milky-aeons]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑

౨ৎ  . . . in which JEAN KIRSCHTEIN finally gets that idyllic little home in the interior, reminisces on the echoes of war, and can't seem to keep his hands off of his pregnant newly-wed wife.

warnings: swearing, sexual content, pregnancy, depictions of violence, memories of war/ptsd, mdni, w.c 2.4k

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐓, clinking against the crystal glass that reflected the light.

It jostled Jean from his dark musings — calling him back from the battlefield within his mind.

He glanced over at it, blinking. Reaching towards the little glass, he picked it up and swirled the contents around. It was a fine whiskey — brewed and stored in Ashwood barrels to give it that intoxicating flavour. During his soldier days, Jean had only been able to dream about touching such expensive whiskey to his lips. And yet here he was, on a bright afternoon deep into autumn, drinking a glass like he had an endless supply of it on his home terrace in the Capital.

It was everything he could have ever wanted.

And yet, it did nothing to quell the screams and cries, the memories of bloodshed roaring up to wash over him.

To drown him.

From the moment he had woken up next to his snoozing wife that morning, Jean just knew today was going to be tough. There were many of them ever since the war ended — days where he could not get out of bed, where he couldn't even will himself to step into the shower without feeling like he was choking. The scars left from the war were deep and corrosive, and perhaps, they would never heal. But he owed it to each and every one of his fallen comrades to continue on. To build something beautiful out of the ashes left in their wake.

Jean winced suddenly — his fight or flight kicking in. In his ears, there was not the gentle din of shoppers from the Mitras street below or the chirping of bluebirds. There was carnage. There was the sounds of screaming orders, of ripping bodies and explosives. In one fraction of a second, he was back on that airship — he was getting ready to dive with his comrades onto the back of the Founding Titan with a slim chance that he would make it out alive—

"Morning, darling," An angel spoke to him, slicing through the clouds, and he felt something warm and comforting sliding down his taut chest. "You're quiet. Is everything alright?"

Slowly, so agonisingly slowly, the images of their last battle dissipated like departing smoke. In its remnants; the sounds of the markets below, the sweet-smelling breeze touched by autumn leaves, feminine arms reaching over his shoulders and playing with his frock.

Feminine — the scent of lilies and warmth. His wife. His beautiful, beautiful wife.

Jean inhaled, his chest expanding almost painfully, and fashioned his face into something composed. He craned his head back to meet your eyes. They were haloed in the tumbles of [h/c] hair that cascaded down to hide him from the outside world.

He flashed you a signature, cheeky grin. "All good. What are ya doin' up this early though?" He fired back at you, his eyebrows pinching with tender concern. "You should be resting."

It was true — and every time he saw the evidence of the life swelling in your belly, Jean felt the need to slap himself. Really, really hard, just to be sure. There was a bright glow that touched the tips of your cheeks, your breasts has swollen and become heavier, readying for the child who would be born within the next few months. A father, he was going to be a father. What were the fucking odds that they had made it this far, you and him, that you were bringing life into this new world. Something he originally believed would have been impossible.

You narrowed your eyes at your husband. There was a familiar look on his face, one which caused you to reach up and brush the curve of his brow.

"You have nightmares in your eyes, my love." You whispered.

He didn't contest, didn't say anything. But he didn't need to. Instead, he closed those honey-coloured eyes and sighed. Jean nudged into your touch — a silent ask — and you continued to rub soothing arcs against his skin. Smoothening out the wrinkles of his bunched expression.

"Shh, it's okay," You murmured in a calming tone. "You are safe. You are here, Jean. We made it. Nothing is going to hurt us, anymore."

Your husband took in deep breaths. First, quick and shallow, which then levelled out into a pace more even. From stroking his face, you let your deft fingertips dance along his skin and sink into his unruly hair, still unbrushed and tousled by sleep. It was past his ears now, you noticed, curling against the nape of his neck in soft sweeps.

"Your hair has gotten long again." You remarked, playing with their ends.

"Hmm," Jean responded. "Suppose so. Kinda like it." He then opened his eyes to look at you once more, and when he did, you were delighted to find they were their bright whiskey-gold, just like the bottle on your terrace table. You smiled softly down at him.

"You have come back to me."

Jean stared at you with those unyielding, clever eyes. He then reached up to catch your caressing hand and turned his face to place a kiss in the palm.

"Always." He whispered.

You would have spent that tender moment just basking in the sunlight with him there, thankful that you both had this time together. Your husband, however, seemed to have other plans. First, it was a wicked little glint that flashed across his eyes — and in the next moment, he was up, using the hand he had clasped to spin you around and hoist you up into his arms.

"J-Jean—!" You choked down a laugh. He scooped you up effortlessly into a bridal-style hold, walking through the terrace doors and into your shared little kitchen.

"Well, my wife is just lookin' extra beautiful this morning!" He chirped, and spun you around and around. Your giggles became a loud, playful scorn, calling him a silly man and demanding that he set you down before he made you and the baby dizzy.

"Our baby will come with a perpetual issue of poor balance!" You cried when he finally stopped, holding you close to him.

"If he's anything like his old man," Jean said. "He will have no problems. In fact, he'll be a damn master at all things balance. You know what they called me in the cadets, right?"

"Yes, yes. Mr. Genius at ODM Gear." Your faces were close, and you nuzzled into the strong column of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent. "I just hope he will not be as big-headed."

"Hah? What did you say?"

Jean was peppering kisses starting from the very crown of your head, following a path of heat down your forehead, your cheeks, then finishing at your neck and giving you a playful nip.

You yelped, swatting at him. It only spurned him on, his broad shoulders that you held onto for support rumbling with his deep laughter. His butterfly kisses against your neck became a frenzy, tickling all of your sensitive spots, murmuring in his low voice who are ya makin' fun of? Hm? He both made you giggle and sparked a familiar heady feeling low in the pit of your stomach.

Your chuckles deepened in time with your quickening breath. It became thready and shallow, increasing in time as your heartrate picked up. Still in his captive bridal hold, you slid your hands from his shoulders to around his neck, tugging at his hair in that way you knew drove him wild.

His kisses tripped over your skin when you did so, his breath caught. Pleasured need rippled throughout your body. The kisses he placed on your neck became messier, changing from swift and teasing to hot, open-mouthed. You craned your head back to give him better access and he wasted absolutely no time — dragging the flat of his tongue from your collarbone to your ear, humming when you arched up in his hold.

Jean hoisted you up a little so he could move swiftly through the apartment. His long legs ate up the distance, gliding through the little one-storey terrace you had both made your home in the interior. You leaned up to him while he moved, kissing him sweetly, tenderly. Speaking in words you said so many times and would continue to say again; I love you. Now and forever.

Your second kiss, however, was meaner — you clamped your teeth on his bottom lip and he growled.

When he reached the bedroom you both shared, you felt Jean kick the door shut behind him, before walking you over to the unmade bed and placing you down. So gently, so caringly. The fragility of how he held you was almost enough to shatter your heart. The mattress dipped when he kneeled over you, encouraging you to lie down flat.

"You're gonna pay for doing that." He murmured in a rough voice.

Innocently, you bat your eyelashes. "For what, my dear husband?"

He leaned down so that your foreheads connected and closed his eyes, sighing hard through his nose. "For being so fuckin' irresistible."

Every inch of you was set alight as he leaned over you, caging you down to the bed with his larger body. You tried to surge up — to feel his mouth on yours and never stop, but he rose, kneeling so he could look down at you.

He was still in that light cotton sleeping shirt he wore to bed — hanging loosely around his neck, throwing his tanned skin into sublime focus. His golden eyes shadowed into a deep whiskey followed from your face, to your aching breasts, to your belly. The little swell there made his expression soften. He placed a hand onto your warm stomach and held it still, feeling the child you will soon share and raise together, his newly polished wedding band catching the morning light.

You felt like you were going to burst with the sheer force of love you felt for this man, Jean Kirschtein, your husband, for now and always. The longer you stared at him, the stronger the low pulse between your legs became.

"Jean." You whispered, and he looked up from under his fair lashes, understanding the plea in your voice.

Jean took his time undressing you, like the wicked little thing he was, delighting at how you wriggled under his touch like a trapped and desperate butterfly. When he had stripped both of you bare, you marvelled at the strong planes of his chest and tight, defined abdominal muscles. You traced each and every little scar he wore proudly, feeling those muscles twitch underneath your touch.

He was perfect. He was yours.

"Come here." You crooned, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him over you.

"Yes ma'am."

Your arms did not fit across the large expanse of his back muscles — you sunk your nails into the curves of his shoulder bones, feeling as they shifted when he crawled on top of you. His head dipped down to catch one of your sensitive nipples in his mouth and he sucked — nibbling softly. Your head knocked back. When he lifted his hand and closed the entirety of his palm over your unattended breast, the moan you let out was long and broken.

"They've gotten big, hm?" He whispered against your chest, chasing his words with loving kisses. "So pretty."

Impatient, lust racing through your bloodstream, you grabbed his wandering hand and guided it to where you ached between your thighs. So slick and swollen, Jean's eyebrows raised, his expression becoming incredibly smug.

"Oi, you've gotten impatient, have you?"

"Oh—yes, yes." You groaned when his fingers curled against you. He knew all the right spots to push, to rub, to make you sing for him.

"Come on, sweetheart, tell me what ya need."

"I need—oh, I need you!"

"Like this?" He cooed, pushing two fingers into you with such tender slowness. It felt exquisite, it felt so filling when you were hot and aching — but not enough.

To urge him, you hooked your leg around the strong curve of his lower back and pulled him into you. He made a sound of surprise, releasing his fingers from you to catch his weight by bracing his hands on either side of your head.

His wide eyes collided with your fierce ones. The intensity you were looking at him with made this ex-soldier's cock give a painful twitch.

"I need you. Inside me. Now."

Pleasure exploded down Jean Kirschtein's spine in a thousand lightning bolts. He hung his head forward, groaning, before reaching down to push your thighs gently apart to allow for his body to slot neatly with yours.

"Well, what typ'a husband would I be if I denied you?"

His cock slid inside you in a way that always felt so mind-numbingly perfect, like he was made to be there, to be yours. Jean let out a ferocious sound and buried into your swollen breasts. You moaned, deep, relieved, bucking your hips up to grind into him.

Jean resurfaced to connect your shining foreheads, once more. He reached down to cup your hips and drew out — pushing back inside with such concentration. He was being careful with you, he was handling you like you were the most precious thing in the entire world. You had become attuned to the monstrous power Jean Kirschtein housed in his toned body, honed from years of battling for his life. You had felt it. Even now, you could feel that hum under his skin — the strength he had used to fuck you against tables and walls, the marble tiling in the shower, the balcony in the deep hours of the night.

But now — he was a gentle, caring lover. He pulsed into you in at a steady pace. Both of you gasped each other's air. You clawed at him. His mouth dropped open to pant as he thrusted into you again, again, again.

When his movements started to become messier, less co-ordinated, did he reach down between the both of you and thrum his fingers against where you were most sensitive. You barked out a cry. The bed began to rock and whine with the force of your love-making.

"Come with me, [Name]." He growled against your shoulder. "Come on, sweetheart, come with me, come with me."

In a delirious haze of ecstasy, you nodded your head, again and again until the apex of your pleasure crested and swelled. Your nails dug into his skin. Jean's breaths quickened until they became choked, gasping moans, and his release smashed into him. You fell, too, crashing through the wall of ecstasy with him until all you knew were his body and his scent and the clasping of his be-ringed hand in yours.

It was all he had ever wanted.

#attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirsten x reader #jean x reader #did i spend today writing smut for a 2D man? #yes #yes i did #dividers by the magnificent firefly graphics! #🪄— milky writes #‼️ — spoilers #💓 — thump