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fire-emblem-drabbles · 6 months

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Pairing: Astarion x reader

Prompt: In which you couldn't convince Astarion not to become the Vampire ascendant, but still do not allow him to do the ritual.

Description: You really did fall so hard, and so, so fast. No wonder when the ground came to meet you did it hurt just as much. But perhaps its not too late to stand back up again, if someone was willing to lend a hand.

Rating: sfw

Content Warning: hurt/comfort

Word Count: 3018

Notes: I had to save scum this so much on my file that was romancing him. And well I be thinking about him a lot lately... I litterally have no idea where these words came from btw so I hope u enjoy them!

“It’s over,” Said with such disdain, such pain and hurt, directed your way. “I’m done with this, and I’m done with you.” Venom, dripping and cold. What happened to the warmth in those eyes? To the love that once shown in them, when he looked your way? “I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.” He looked so broken, so hurt.

You hardly remembered what came next, beyond your own tears. Astarion simply… left. Walk away as you crumpled to the ground, in disbelief. As you begged him to say. When you told him, over and over again, that you loved him.

Karlach and Shadowheart must have dragged you out of those dungeons, otherwise you might still be there, wallowing in your pity. You don’t remember how long it had been since then. Since you had stopped Cazador from ascending, freed Astarion from his grasp… and tried to convince him not to ascend himself. Your words may have failed, but your actions didn’t; you didn’t let him use your eyes to copy his scars. You couldn’t.

All for him to walk away.

You hadn’t really been the same, since then. Where once you were the leader of your little ragtag group of adventurers, now you couldn’t find it in you to leave your tent. Well… Astarion’s tent, actually. You never had one of your own. And when the two of you got together, it just seemed natural to share.

Gale had taken over in leading everyone for day to day adventuring on your behalf. Even though you wished it, the world would not slow down because you were hurt. No kindness spared on your broken, broken heart. Yet you couldn’t stop wondering where you went wrong. Were the two of you not as close as you thought? Could you have been more convincing, hell, more intimidating, anything to have kept him by your side?

You think, right now, it’s night. Your candle’s are all stuffed out, the bustle of the streets beyond are quiet, and you can’t hear the patter and stomps of Scratch and the owlbear cub playing around camp. Your tears have all but dried, even if your sorrow remains as fresh as a new wound. No, all is silent in this moment.

You take a deep breath. Yes, it would be best to sleep. Maybe tomorrow, you would wake up and feel like a person again. One who could attend to all her duties. And maybe even get back on the path to save Baldur’s gate.

But sleep never comes for those whose hearts are so heavy. This isn’t the first night you’ve lied awake, thoughts wondering. All for the better, perhaps-- because in the heavy quiet of the cities dark night, you hear the flap of your tent open with the utmost quietness. And you, just as quiet, sit up from your laying position. Who ever has invaded your space must have dark vision, for they pause upon seeing your form and do not move an inch.

“I can see you there.” Your voice comes out, gravelly and rough. You don’t sense your in danger, though, even as your heart beats and pounds in your chest. Who would be stupid enough to steal from a camp full of adventurers, with an owlbear lurking around no less. Still, with some trepidation, you cast the cantrip for light, and watch as your messy tent (and new guest) are bathed in cool, blue light.

“Oh,” Is all you think to say. You can’t really trust your eyes, so you rub the days of built up sleep and sorrow from them. No, you can’t even speak his name as you stare upon him. But you dare not look away. Even if it was a dream, it was him. It was him.

“...You’re a mess.” His words are soft, quiet. He seems to relax a little when he sees you make no movement.

“...I suppose I am.” You clear your throat a little after speaking, if only because a new lump seems to be forming now that you look to him. “How… how can I help you, Astarion?”

“Gods…” He heaves a heavy sigh, looking over your pitiful form. “I’ve hurt you this much, and you still think to help me? Are you stupid?” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Perhaps.” You nod softly. “Stupid enough to fall in love with you, after all.” You can only smile weakly at him.

“I came here too…” He frowns, looking away from you for a moment. “Well it doesn’t matter why I came back. You clearly need some sense knocked back into you.” With that, he moves in closer to you. Surprised, you move in a little in order to accommodate him. You try to ignore the beating of your heart, ignore the hope that rises within you like a phoenix from its ashes.

“What… are you going to do?” You turn to him, nestled into your side like he might have been not too long ago.

“Talk, as terrible as that sounds.” He keeps his gaze down, looking at the messed up bedding.

“Talk?” You repeat. “I thought you… didn’t want to see me again.”

“Well, that was then. This is now.” Astarion looks to you. To the bags built up under your eyes. Your cheeks, still rosy and sensitive with just how many tears you’ve shed (for him, no less). Your hair is unkempt and as gross as you are, all he can see is someone that loves him… “I… said and did some terrible things during that ritual. Things that… looking back, I may not have done were I in the right head space.” He swallows hard. “I was… scared. And the promise of power, the smell of blood… it was all so intoxicating, I forgot myself there for a moment.”

The two of you sit in the silence a moment, festering in it. Words dance on the tip of your tongue but Astarion isn’t done speaking. He, too, needs a moment to compose himself. “But… you never forgot who I was.” He looks to you, something soft, something sad, something gentle written into the contours of his face. Even as he turns to you, he struggles to meet your eyes-- shining, glimmering, with something sweet and promising and loving in them. Something that he doesn’t deserve; not after the actions he took that day.

“You did everything in your power to convince me what I was doing was wrong, but all I could see then was the security that power could bring me.” He closes his eyes, taking a sharp intake of air though his nose. “I was so blinded, I could not see that with you by my side, I was the happiest I’ve ever been these past 200 years…” As he opens his eyes, he looks down to his folded hands, then over to yours. You realize that even if he is so close… Astarion hesitates to touch you. Maybe he felt as if he wasn’t allowed to do so any more, or perhaps felt he was no longer worthy… Whatever the reason, it breaks your heart just a little bit more.

“I… see.” It’s a lot to soak up. That in the moment, you couldn’t reach him but in the days sense Astarion has realized… maybe this was for the better.

“You saved me from becoming the very man I lived in fear of, and all I gave you in return was heartbreak.” He seeks your eyes, his own wide and wet and you realize he’s crying now. Tears flood your eyes as well, because he was right; you cared for him so much, though, it almost didn’t seem to matter. Almost. “How can I ever expect you to forgive me?” With that, he breaks, closing his eyes roughly and crying out, sobbing into his own hands.

All you can do in that moment is cry with him. Two, love sick idiots broken and hurt but not beyond mending-- not yet.

“It’s okay,” You find yourself struggling to say the words, even as you usher him into your arms and hold him. He does not hesitate to hold you in turn, to cry unto you as you into him. “We’ll be okay, I promise, I promise.” Your words come out as prayer as you hold him close. “Just don’t leave again, please!”

“I won’t, I won’t.” Astarion seems to compose himself more quickly than you do, but he does not let go, even as you know your tears stain his shirt. “I’ve got you and I won’t leave you ever again.” He rubs his hand along your back slowly, doing his best to try and comfort you in the same way you have for him in the past. It’s a long moment before you feel yourself begin to breathe normally again, before your tears once again dry and you find yourself staring into his red eyes once more.

“I love you,” Your words are softer than a whisper, said with a trembling smile.

“I love you too.” Astarion responds in kind, resting his forehead against yours. You two stay content a moment before he speaks again. “But you’re disgusting-- let me take care of you.” He pulls away from you and your left no room to argue. You merely blink, owlishly, as he pulls back. He moves to stand but you grab his hand.

“Where are you going?” You hold on to him with both hands now, and he has to pause to take the sudden fear on your face. Astarion had planned to leave to return with a little wash bin and rag but seeing you so distraught makes him pause. Of course, the last time he walked away from you he didn’t return…

“We’re going to get you cleaned up.” With a bit of a struggle, Astarion gets you to rise to your feet next to him. “Don’t make it more difficult than it has to be.” He adds. You nod slowly, still a little on edge from the panic that just flooded your system but nonetheless, trusting Astarion.

So, with the difficulty that comes with only having one hand, Astarion pins open the flaps of the tent (your light cantrip soon goes out as well, but the inside is illuminated but the torchlight of your camp). Some of the stale air you had been living in gets to escape, and you’re able to take a fresh breath of air you hadn’t realized you needed.

Astarion gathers his wash bin, and the rag, and with you in tow, rummages through that the travelers chest you seem to toss anything and everything into. But, avoiding unmatched boots and careful not to prick himself on all the arrows that are in there (and trying not to think about how they were likely dumped in there after he left), he finds what he was looking for-- some soap. And though the water is cold, and the night is cool, at least with a little bit of soap and his careful hand, it’s not all bad.

“You need to wash these clothes too,” Astarion huffs. “I know you have other things, so let’s get you into something cleaner.” You’re guided back into your shared tent (which is already starting to smell better, but the scented water is helping as well) while Astarion rifles though your clothing. Here together again, you finally let go of his hand but stay close to him.

“Thank you…” You pause, watching him pick out something comfortable and warm. “I can take care of myself, though.” You add, taking the clothing from him.

“I’m sure you can-- but I want to take care of you.” He doesn’t let go of your clothing as you try and take it. “So, let me.” His gaze flicks up to your eyes and you’re surprised to see him look so stubborn.

“Oh,” You let go of the clothing, surprised. “I… That would be nice.” You say it quietly, still too caught up in him being here, being real and touching you, loving you.

“Now, out of the nasty clothing, if you would.” He persists, grabbing the hem of your current shirt. He pauses before lifting it though, looking to your face. “That is, if you’re okay with me…” he trails, unsure.

“It’s you, so it’s okay.” You assure him. You raise your hands so he can take off the offending, stinky shirt, and toss it aside. Next, he removes your pants, tossing them the same direction.

“This might be a little cold,” Astarion tells you, but it doesn’t stop the flinch (nor the shiver) as the cool rag touches your skin. Still, his touch is delicate and careful.

He first wipes your face (part of it, still covered in blood and dirt from that same battle). He dips and wrings out the rag, before continuing his work. Your chest, your arms, legs-- all of you, gently washed and cared for. You realize this is the first time he’s been so intimate with you in a non sexual way. It’s… nice. To see his brow furrowed in concentration, have his hands upon you just hold you. It’s not like the two of you went entirely without touching one another in that time, but to have him initiating it, warms you.

“Now, back in your clothing before you catch a cold.” You nod at him and smile, sliding on the familiar pants and shirt with comfort and ease.

“I already feel a lot better, thank you.” He smiles softly, but sits you back down.

“Just let me attend to this rats nest, and we can be done.” Astarion reaches for his comb, and sits beside you. “Lean back so I can wet your hair,” He guides you down, with your head over the basin, and cups his hand to gather water before wetting your hair.

You let his work quietly, until your hair is wet and he can begin working out the knots starting at the ends. When the comb runs freely to your hair, he grabs the soap and carefully massages it into your scalp, scratching here in there. You let out a sigh in content, and Astarion can’t help but smile softly.

He was still shocked that you even talked to him-- let alone let him touch you. But the two of you needed this. To hold and be held, to love and let go. He truly was a fool to ever think he could be without you. But he was lucky, then, that you were fool enough to let him back in.

With your hair washed, combed, and dried and the water dumped and wash bin put aside, Astarion let you sit back up and look at him. “So… what happens next?” You ask softly.

“Well… I’m not sure.” He admits. “I didn’t think you would forgive me so… I hadn’t really thought much beyond that.”

“I suppose we get our rest, then.” You heave a heavy sigh. “I know I’ve taken enough time off from adventuring… And you have some friends who deserve an explanation as well.”

“More talking?” Astarion groans softly, but makes no move to leave your side as you lie down and tug him with you. “But… you are right.”

“You’ll be okay.” You give him a good, full body squeeze. “Everyone here cares for you. They’ll be willing to hear you out.”

“Perhaps only with you by my side.” He lets out a little chuckle. “But… that’s not such a bad thing.” He readjusts in your grasp, snuggling close and turning towards you. “Rest well, darling.” He kisses the top of your head, and smiles down at your sleepy expression.

“I will, now that you’re here…” It didn’t take long for sleep to find you, wound up in Astarion’s arms. You hadn’t slept so well in days, and who was he to wake you when you looked so peaceful…? It seemed like time passed so quickly with you in his arms, and before long he could hear the sounds of everyone else waking in camp.

Astarion couldn’t help but grow anxious as footsteps grew closer to the tent. “Solider, you in there?” Karlach’s voice called out. “I know you haven’t been very hungry lately, but I brought you some breakfast…” Unable to do anything to stop her, Astarion watched as Karlach pokes her head into the tent. With the morning light, they could only stare at one another a moment.

“Shh, just let them sleep a while longer…” Astarion turned from Karlach, and brushed some stray hairs from your face. “When they’re ready to wake up, I’ll… I’ll be ready to.” He turns from you, back to Karlach, a look of surprise and glee on her face.

“Right! Right… I’ll be quiet!” She gives him a little thumbs up and quickly retreats from the tent. But… Astarion can hear Karlach, even if she is all the way across camp. First, she tells Jaheira, then Minsc, and Minthara and Lae’zel overhear… Then Wyll, Shaodowheart and Halsin of course overhear and then Gale finds out, and now the whole camp is aware that he’s back here even if they are being remarkable polite about it….

Still, it brings a smile on his face. To know they were so excited to see him again (maybe even if it was only to see you happy again) was a comforting thought. To be among friends… That was something truly special indeed.

“Astarion…?” You wake slowly, eyes barely open as you look to him, hold him a little tighter.

“I’m here,” Astarion assures you, giving you a squeeze in return.

“Good…” You close your eyes and cuddle back into him, letting out a small yawn. “Let’s stay alone for just a little longer yet.”

“That can be arranged.” He can’t help but smile, and relax into you. Everyone else could wait a little longer yet-- you deserved what ever you wanted in this moment. And if that happened to be him, well, Astarion was in no place to say no.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 fanfic #bg3 x reader #just... thinking about how alone and afriad he would feel after that #made me kind of insane

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cheolhub · 11 months

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IM STUPID i thought you meant we can send in a max of three number and member pairings for you to choose from for ur milestone event 🧍‍♀️pls ignore my first ask (ONLY IF U HAVENT GOTTEN TO IT YET AJDJSK)

can i have “Could he make you feel as good as i do?” + “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” For gyugyu 🥺 i still haven't recovered from the oneshot you posted yesterday 🧍‍♀️

FWB!MINGYU

prompt. “could he make you feel as good as i do?” + “we’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

wc. 915

warnings. fwb!gyu, fem!reader, mirror sex, jealousy, possessiveness, gyu is a bit rough, dirty talk, pet names, cumshot, tears, kinda angsty? — MINORS DNI 18+

note. god u sent this the first week of march for my THREE KAY event… now im at 4k, and i am so sorry 🤣 anyway this wasn’t proofread and it’s literally a mess, but i hope u like it anyway ;-; thank u sm for requesting (even if it did take me 8 years to get to haha)

“would you look at that?” mingyu laughs against your ear. “might wanna redo your makeup once i’m done, baby, you’ve cried it all off.”

he’s not wrong. when you open your eyes and take in the sight in front of you and nearly choke on a sob. you’re a mess– smeared eyeliner, mascara staining your cheeks and lipstick smudged around your mouth– no longer ready for your date. the one that starts 15 minutes from now.

when you’d told mingyu– a friend who you occasionally frequently fuck– you were ready to start dating again, he thought you were bluffing. how could you want to date anyone else when he was right in front of you? you and him are practically dating– you go out and do couple-y things then you go back to one of your places and you fuck– you just lack the label.

and that’s because both of you needed something sexual, but neither of you were ready for a relationship.

now that you are– now that you’re going on a date with some fucker who probably doesn’t even deserve you– he’s upset. beyond upset, actually. he’s livid.

that’s why he bent you over your bathroom’s vanity, pushed your dress up and makeup products to the ground and thought to prove himself to you.

now his hand tugs at your hair, essentially forcing you to stare at yourself while he reduces you to a mess like he does every time his cock is inside of you.

“mmh, could he make you feel as good as i do, huh? you think he knows how to make this pretty pussy feel good?” the question comes through gritted teeth and it finally clicks in your dumb little brain. “i don’t fucking think so.”

“y-you’re jealous?” you’re able to ask, though it’s choked. his reply never comes, but his thrusts get harsher– merciless– and you take it as a wordless admission, crying out your next words, “me ‘n you are jus’ friends, g-gyu!”

he tugs at your hair harder and the other hand that resides on your waist squeezes your skin gratingly. “we’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” he replies, voice hushed and raw with emotion.

you do. you know it. you and mingyu are glued at the hip both figuratively and literally. there’s no one on the earth that makes you feel a quarter of what you feel for him. and you also know there isn’t a single man who could fuck you as well as mingyu does.

but when you told him you wanted to start dating, he brushed you off with a “yeah, right,” and it made you believe that there wasn’t a chance with him. you figured that the idea of you and mingyu being together was simply a dream that would never happen.

though, you’re not so sure anymore because he’s spewing out possessive words faster than you can comprehend while his cock stirs you up.

what you didn’t know was that you’ve always had mingyu in the palm of your hand. he was whipped. wrapped around your finger. he doesn’t want to share you– he never has.

“he’s never gonna make you feel this good,” he confidently states. “you’re made for me.”

“fuck!” you cry, tightening around his cock at the affirmation. “mingyu, please!”

“that’s it, pretty, say my fuckin’ name.” he moans, sloppily thrusting into you as his mind runs away from him. “look at me and tell me how much you like it.”

your eyes nearly cross as they try to find him in the mirror, but when they land on his, you feel yourself grow even hotter. “love it. i love it, gyu.”

he smiles triumphantly like he’s won the lottery. he’s sure that this is better, though. you? admitting to the fact that you love the way he fucks you? fucking priceless.

“yeah? you love my cock?” he asks, cockily, yet he knows the answer.

you give him a broken nod, “so much!”

“why don’t you cum for me, baby. cum all over this cock ‘n show me how much you love it.” he coaxes breathily, continuing to fuck you into oblivion.

you can’t stop yourself as soon as you hear his request. the tight coil in the pit of your tummy comes undone as you sob out his name. you trap his twitching cock between his spasming cunt all the while he fucks you through your blinding orgasm. every second feels more euphoric than the last, more tears running down your face at the pleasure.

mingyu isn’t far behind you with the way you grip him so heavenly. he’s quickly pulling out, the hand in your hair coming to wrap around his cock. you whine at the loss of his warmth, but you’re pleasantly surprised when you hear the lewd noise of his hand vigorously pumping himself and the sounds of his pretty groans.

he lets out a string of curses, hand moving quicker before his body jerks and his ribbons of his cum spurt out. some of it lands on your bare ass, but the majority ends up on your date outfit. he can’t help but smile at the fact that he’s ruined your pretty outfit. one meant for someone who isn’t him.

“actually, i think you should cancel your date.” he pants. “ be sure to tell him that you’re taken now.”

he watches the way you nod and he can’t help but feel proud of himself. you’re his and he’s yours.

#mingyu smut #svt smut #3k milestone #[💌: cryoculus]#★︎ — kai !

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spotty-is-slumberous · 8 days

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Y’know… I feel like Sol was introduced an arc late

I think he would have fit so much better in The New Prophecy instead of The Power of Three… Maybe that’s just me, though, because I haven’t seen a whole lot of people discussing this idea, but I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I wanted to share what I’ve come up with so far

The New Prophecy is, obviously, about the Clans losing their homes and the chosen six setting out into unknown territory to find somewhere new for them to settle. It’s been a while since I’ve read TNP, but I think I remember enough to have some interesting points to bring up…

So buckle up and bear with me y’all. It’s Spotty Speaks time once again

Everything up to the chosen Clan cats finding Midnight can stay the same. The same journeying and angst and coming together as friends, etc. But, instead of just finding a badger at the sun-drown place, they also find a cat with her: her page, Sol.

For the most part, I think that Sol’s backstory should stay the same, sans some tweaks in the later portion. He was born a loner to his mother, Cinders, who separated he and his littermates to live as kittypets when she could no longer adequately care for them. He adopted the name Harry from his housefolk, but always felt the restless itch to do more and be more that prompted him beyond his garden often despite his lackluster skills. This urge would drive him into the paws of the visiting Firestar and Sandstorm, which is where a major portion of Sol’s backstory changes: He is now one of SkyClan’s founders. (I think that Harrypelt would be a funny name for him lol; Firestar might have mistaken his name for “Hairy”, so his prefix doesn’t get altered too much, or maybe something like “Fluffypelt” or something similar, I don’t know lol)

This works with the rough timeline between Firestar’s Quest and TNP, as well!

But just as he wasn’t satisfied with kittypet life, the rigid structuring of Clan life didn’t scratch Sol’s itch either. He wasn’t a grand hunter or even a half-decent fighter, he was someone who thirsted for knowledge and invention, but his Clanmates had been so firmly rooted in Firestar’s ideals of tradition that they stunted all of his attempts to grow and experiment that eventually he grew embittered, became sick of it, and just… left. Ultimately, he would stumble upon Midnight, an elderly badger who was both a polyglot and a soothsayer who was searching for other animals to share her wisdom with, to pass on and entrust all of her knowledge to someone so that she could retire and live the rest of her days in peace. This intrigued Harry enough for him to want to learn from her, and to honor his transformation into becoming her page, Midnight renames him “Sol”; she names all of her pages after celestial concepts, as she herself once was renamed.

When the Clan cats roll by Midnight, Sol is with her. There’s an obvious tension between him and the Clan cats due to his distaste for them, but he follows his mentor’s example of hospitality while the Clan cats rest as best as he can. I imagine he’s a little older than Crowpaw, but a bit younger than Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt, so he’s more comfortable with the younger cats of the group. Squirrelpaw especially intrigues him; he distantly recognizes Firestar in her attitude and coat, but not enough to put his finger on it just yet.

What would be personally most intriguing to me: Midnight instructs Sol to be the Clan cats’ guide through the mountains, as she predicts there is what they are seeking on the other side. When Sol protests, Midnight states that their duty is not only as keepers of knowledge, but also as guides to any who are lost; the Clan cats will need to know when to stop their travels, anyway, so Sol will be able to help with that. Sol eventually agrees, but he still grumbles about it. So Sol is now accompanying the traveling cats; they encounter the Tribe, Feathertail is killed, they find the lake. Sol follows the Clan cats back to the forest, where he seems especially intrigued by the rattled state they’re all in. He’s the primary guide to the Clan cats as they return to the lake, but he’s especially chatty with Blackstar and the ShadowClan cats, before Hawkfrost catches his attention and the two begin to talk as well. Leafpaw is also intrigued by Sol, and Sol with her; Sol is especially talkative with the medicine cats. Mothwing gets bad vibes from him, but she can’t explain it.

The Clans come to the lake, Tallstar dies but appoints Onewhisker as his successor before he does so. Sol still lingers amongst the ShadowClan cats, but as he belongs to no Clan, he just kind of slips between all the Clans and chats with everyone, namely Hawkfrost and Leafpaw, though their conversations are very different.

The Clans settle into new spots around the lake, but Sol still disregards all of the early boundaries set. This unsettles most of the Clan cats, but many are willing to overlook it on account of how Sol led them all to their new home; he’s an honored guest of the Clans, and is under ShadowClan and Blackstar’s direct protection on account of how scarily close the two had grown over the course of the journey. Blackstar’s faith had been shaken due to several losses during the journey, as well as his general fear that their ancestors had not followed them to their new home, which Sol wholeheartedly took advantage of to essentially use Blackstar as a puppet figurehead for his own desires, masquerading as someone who could see the future and soothe his troubles without the need of “some silly dead cats”.

Sol barely speaks to the traveling cats anymore, and all of the traveling cats get the sense that something in Sol’s demeanor and goals has shifted.

Later, Mudclaw announces his rebellion. Unbeknownst to most of the Clan cats, Hawkfrost and Sol are some of his direct supporters, Sol especially, so ShadowClan is politically on Mudclaw’s side. Mudclaw orchestrates a grand battle with the help of Hawkfrost and Sol to kill Onewhisker, as most of WindClan is on his side due to their respect for Tallstar’s dying wish; I imagine they host their meetings at the Moonpool, which Leafpool discovered with Sol at her side. He’s very ingrained in several huge Clan events now.

Off to the side, Brambleclaw is appointed ThunderClan’s deputy.

Days before the battle is scheduled to strike, Sol and Leafpool run away from the Clans together to be free — though it’s primarily due to Sol’s cowardice. He doesn’t want to be caught up in the battle, but he’s grown fond of the medicine cat and doesn’t want to see her fall. The rebellion strikes just as Midnight finds Sol and Leafpool; she instructs Leafpool to return to the Clans, and for Sol- Harry, to leave them. He’s caused more than enough damage to the already-fragile Clans. When Leafpool asks what Sol means, he refuses to answer, so Midnight explains that Sol has been deeply ingrained in the beginnings of a coup that would forever change the flow of the Clan’s fate should three toms rise to power in the same breath, with a last that has already been broken to Sol’s will. Sol bristles and calls his mentor crazy, but Leafpool trusts Midnight; she’s seen all the evidence herself, after all, and she’s able to connect the dots fairly quickly.

Leafpool returns to the Clans. Sol does not; he stays at Midnight’s side. Sol’s fate is unknown at the end of The New Prophecy, but his intention was always to undo the rigid Clan structure and make room for change and growth — and, if that couldn’t be done, then he’d just destroy the Clans as a whole. But his version of growth was covered in thorns, and the cats he used were blind to his manipulation.

In the aftermath…

Mudclaw is killed despite his support.

Hawkfrost is killed by Brambleclaw after he attempted to coax his half-brother into murdering Firestar so they could claim leadership together, as Leopardstar was weakened by fighting on behalf of Mudclaw at Hawkfrost’s suggestion.

Blackstar, shaken, steps down upon hearing of Sol’s treachery and how he had fled; he retires and becomes Blackfoot again. Russetstar steps up.

Brambleclaw might also step down, feeling horrified at how he was tempted to finish the job Hawkfrost had started and claim leadership for his own. I’m not sure who would replace him, though - maybe Sandstorm?

Leafpool discovers that she is pregnant.

And Sol is still thought to lurk in the wilds, with many Clan cats paranoid that the unusual, cunning tortoiseshell tom still studies the Clans, watching them from the shadows until he feels he can return again to finish what he had started… And in the meantime, the Clans vow to strengthen themselves to never again allow an outsider to shake them so badly that they nearly destroyed one another.

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mirkwoodmunson · 2 years

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Would you pretty please turn this picture into an Eddie munson fanfiction? I've been searching the Internet and have yet to find anything like this. If you not comfortable, I totally understand!!

me: writing break!

mailbox: 🫶

me: …..umm ANYWAY *frantic typing*

I LOVE THIS PROMPT SO MUCH U HAVE NO IDEA

tw: cursing, angst, panic/anxiety attack, dissociation, night terrors, depressed/anxious reader, post-v2 (fixit)

it takes a long time for your nights to go back to a state of semi-normalcy. a long time of regaining the ability to lay in bed comfortable and calm and eager for sleep, a long time of healing and bandages and pained tears, a long time of struggling for the smallest crumbs of comfort. but you had each other, and that made it easier of course — but it was still an uphill battle for those first few months. there was a lot of heartache, a lot of tears and strain, but far be it from eddie and you to let the darkness come out on top. you were both fighters, and when the battle got too rough for one of you, the other always managed to gather enough strength to keep the both of you pushing, moving forward. persevering.

when the darkness got the better of you, eddie was there to blind it with his brilliance.

nights… you’d come to dread them. during the day the sun could blot out your thoughts, soothe worries with its warmth, and you had things to do and places to go and people to see; the day didn’t give you the time to worry. but when night fell, when it was just you and eddie and the quiet — not that you didn’t enjoy those things, but with the night and the quiet, and the memories you and eddie now shared… nights were still sometimes difficult.

the thing is, eddie doesn’t remember that night. he doesn’t remember anything after the bats.

but you do.

you remember, and you’ve had to watch it again, and again — at first it was every time you tried to sleep, then just when you slept at night, but always sleeping during the day became a problem. then after a while, after nights started to feel somewhat tolerable, it was every other night. every few nights. you were down to once every few weeks now, but even then, the idea of just trying to get some rest had become so stressful it was just a frustrating cycle of exhaustion at this point.

and how could you bother eddie with this? he knew, but you didn’t complain beyond the initial waking up from the dreams. sure he didn’t remember that night, but he still remembered facing the bats. he still had to go through the stint in the hospital, recovery at home. you were both dealing with your individual traumas. he always assured you you were allowed to feel it too, you didn’t need to act tough around him — you’d become so quiet. so tired. he would always tell you the way through was together, that he had your back. but you still felt like it would burden him. far be it from you to be a burden.

really though, there’s only so many times you can say you’re okay when you’re not before it becomes too much to handle alone.

tonight it takes you by surprise. tonight you fall asleep in eddie’s arms, but you wake up and, you’re there. you’re in the wasteland that is the upside down and you’re running but you can’t run fast enough and there’s not enough air in your lungs. the red flashes are too bright, too disorienting, you can just barely make out the swarm.

when they suddenly drop from the air, you see the body they surround and you drop too. it’s too much, too heavy, too real — the little air you have rips from your lungs and you crawl to him, you know you can save him if you just go fast enough but you can’t move any faster, no matter how hard you scream you can’t get to him any quicker, like you’re pulling yourself through drying concrete. you hear dustin crying.

you reach, so hard your muscles pull and you cry, and you grab his vest and drag yourselves together, gripping him tight light you’re about to be pulled away from him again. you try and talk him awake but your lips move slow too, it’s muffled in your ears like you’re underwater, clogged and distant. if you’re loud enough, cry hard enough, scream loud enough, maybe he’ll wake up. your foreheads are pressed together as you beg for him to wake the fuck up —

“please wake up please wake up please wake up,” his eyes snap open and he holds your face, talking to you quickly, quietly, murmuring a pleading song.

you feel like you’re being pulled up through water.

you wheeze deep and suddenly breach the surface, gasping wildly into a dark space, but that voice remains and keeps guiding you from the murky depths; it’s soft, always soft — calling to you with a tender earnestness.

“i’m here. i’m here — you’re safe; you’re awake.”

you start to wail, and eddie leans over to turn on the lamp before pulling you into his lap, into his arms, careful but quick. he tries not to waver, not to show how startled he is — but he can’t help the tremble in the way that he holds you, the break in his voice.

“it’s okay, y/n it’s okay — i promise. you’re not there. you’re home. i’m here.”

“i-i-i — fine — i’m fine — i’m fine,” it almost hurts to speak, takes effort between the deep breaths and hiccups and sobs. eddie leans you away a bit, pushes damp hair from your cheeks and cups them in warm calloused hands that are firm but loving, urging you to look at him.

through the tears you see his eyes are wide but tired, concerned and sad and alarmed, when you try to look away he holds you still, shaking his head firmly.

“no. no sweetheart you’re not okay.”

he looks at you a moment longer before pulling you back into him as you shudder, quaking with the force of it, gripping his shirt tight to ground yourself as you weep into his shoulder.

eddie shushes you softly, holds you so tight his arms tremble and hides his face in your hair.

“i’m here. you’re safe. i’ve got you. i promise.”

“wh-what about you??”

“i’m safe too, baby. we’re safe. we’re home.”

one of his hands slides around one of yours, soothes it open to release his shirt and then guides it down to the bedsheets.

“feel our bed? the sheets?”

he takes your quieting cries as a ‘yes,’ and smiles small, kissing your temple. you’re starting to focus on him, on your surroundings.

“feel my shirt? an’ my arms?”

you nod, running your thumb over the faded black fabric held tight in your fist, full of holes and tears. you’d got it for eddie when he took you to see judas priest, the metal conqueror tour. you guys hadn’t started dating yet. some dude spilt beer on you and shouted at you for the audacity, eddie had punched him in the face, and then you’d started dating.

“hey! there’s a smile!” eddie peers down at you with a smile of his own, and you sniffle but hold it for him through the stubborn tears. “there you go. where’d that come from?”

“you,” you respond simply, tearfully.

eddie laughs softly and pulls you in again, rocking you in his arms, muttering gentle affirmations.

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jounosnumberoneslut · 8 months

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✧ 500 followers event ✧

Finally I'm here with this event, love you so much and thank you!

I haven't got better idea so this will be a prompt event again.

You can choose one prompt to one character.

Example: fluff prompt 4 with Sigma

all the prompts are usable at once!!

(if someone requested it I will extract it)

aaaaaand I want to try this NSFW alphabet too, so if you want, send me the character whom you want it (NSFW alphabet with Dazai example)

Additional info before requesting:

I only write AFAB reader for smut prompts

Please be patient, I have still have requests from the previous event

I don't write in chronological order

Characters I will write for:

Dazai Osamu, Chuuya Nakahara, Jouno Saigiku, Tecchou Suehiro, Sigma, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Nikolai Gogol

❀ fluff

If you steal the blankets, I’m going to put my cold feets on you.

You are comfy.

A: I’m not feeling well. B: Then that means you are on bed arrest today, and I’m your bed mate.

Don't be silly. I want to stay up with you.

It's not like I've fantasied about you or anything...

Shh, Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair.

Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.

Here, let's share the blanket.

I heard you talking in your sleep.

You owe me a kiss.

Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.

Shall I put sunscreen on your back?

Come cuddle.

❦ smut

A:You need to behave! B:Behave? Baby, you don’t like it when I behave.

You are more than just a one night stand.

I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice.

Please, remind me again, why we are having sex behind a tree?

You look like a fucking dog in heat.

You better use a fucking condom.

First one who make a noise loses.

Don't be so rough, there can't be any marks.

There is only one rule. You can't use your hands.

Your ass or your breasts... the choice is up to you.

You're n-not, um, w-wearing anything under that, are you..?

If I have to stop what I'm doing you won't be able to walk for the next week.

Were you just masturbating?

dividers by: cafekitsune

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #anime #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #jouno bsd #jouno #jouno saigiku #jouno smut #dazai smut #event #prompt

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moodymisty · 10 months

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Hello. I'd like to leave a request. So recently I was listening to "River" by Bishop Briggs so I thought, what if someone danced to this song for Crosshair? The idea is, reader is Batch's doctor and enjoying a few days on land she goes out with some friends to 79. The boys arrive later and they all sit together. It's happening live performances at 79, singers, dancers, but none can really rock the bar, you know? Reader's friends comment on her dancing skills, making Crosshair laugh and daring her to get up on stage and dance. Pissed with him, the reader accepts the challenge and during the performance comes to dance exclusively for him, teasing him. I would be the happiest girl if you could finish it with a smut. xoxo

Author's note: I find it so funny when people come into my asks with such specific prompts, I feel like I'm trying to make someone's daydream come true XD I hope you enjoy kind anon. I'm not a going out night type of person, but I hope I captured that fun confident energy this prompt has :3

Relationships: Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, dancing, Mentions of alcohol, Sex in a bathroom, Slightly rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Porn with just enough plot i can barely saw it's not pwp

Sometimes you wonder if there's a specific word for how you feel whenever you get back to Coruscant after a long while away.

Time feels like it passes so fast, but yet so, excruciatingly, slow.

It's been roughly two months since you've been back on solid Coruscanti ferrocrete, and it feels like you've been gone for two years. When you'd once joked about it, Hunter mentioned that it was how they'd all felt shortly after graduating from cadets and being send out into the field, so maybe it had something to do with light speed travel. Or something of the sort.

Either way, unimportant. There's drinks that need to be drank.

Some are just water while some are varying degrees of hard liquor, all spread across the table in a lazy, unorganized fashion.

You'd first told your friends about 79's after the Batch had invited you here for the first time, and you were eager to share. It's a nice place all and all, you enjoy the energy. Some of the other dive bars around the nearby districts, at least the ones that don't charge half a fortune for every sip, tend to attract not so friendly people.

79's is cheap, easy going, and the troopers are flirty- but keep their hands mostly to themselves.

Before you'd left Hunter had mentioned that they might be coming close behind to get a bit of a rare break as well, gods know they probably need it just as much as you do. So you've been glancing at the doors every now and again, looking for that brushed black armor for the past hour.

"Are they even still coming?"

You'd casually mentioned their potential coming a few minutes ago; And one of your friends, the one with a real penchant for bad boys and not the best decision making skills when five or more drinks deep, is very eager to meet them.

They know which one to avoid flirting up, anyways.

"They'll be here. They're usually pretty late anyways. If something came up, I'd be getting the same call as them." You are in their squad after all, so if they have to go out on a sudden mission, it would be extremely doubtful they'd even consider leaving without you.

But speaking of them...

Not minutes later you finally see them enter, easily spotted by their dark palette contrasting with the sea of white plastoid. They always stand out, and at least in this particular setting, they enjoy it readily. Quickly you all move to find a spot where you can all sit together, making sure to bring your drinks, both new and already half down, with.

Needless to say the Batch livens up the party significantly, which was a much needed boost given the slow state of the night so far.

For awhile the live music and show had largely been existing in the background; A good show, but nothing worth maintaining your entire attention. Especially since now that your favorite troopers are here, it's even less so important.

But now that it's currently between acts, it seems one of your friends has gotten herself a devious idea.

"Why don't you get up there and show them how it's done? Like at that one bar on-" You quickly shush her before she manages to regale a tale you don't exactly want retold in this state, rolling your eyes. But it seems the mention of a story has already caught particularly Crosshair's interest, and she quickly goes about spilling the memory once you no longer stop her.

"There was a open mic night at this one bar, and she killed it. Everyone thought she was a paid performer." Quickly she gestures to the stage, which is surrounded by tipsy, flushed faced clone troopers. They're awaiting the next performance, if there's even going to be one. Your friend speaks up again, pleading with you while Crosshair and the rest of the Batch look on curiously.

"Come on! It's open! Go up there!"

You're not exactly opposed to the idea, but you also don't feel like leaving the party behind so to speak. You're just about to shake your head and refuse again, when Crosshair speaks up at your side. He's been leaning back in the seat the whole time, one of his arms lazily against the back of the seat elbow close to your shoulder and forearm dangling down.

"Oh come on, gonna leave everyone guessing now that we know your little secret?"

Crosshair has his eyebrows raised, watching you. It's clearly bait as he sets it out like this all the time, but you're in the mood for taking a bite.

"Maybe I will. The mystery will make me seem even better than I am."

He rolls his eyes, and with a distinctly sarcastic flavor to his voice, responds.

"Whatever makes you feel better, Doll."

Now a little miffed despite you are the one who bit his fishhook, you scrunch your face and look at him, while he seems almost overwhelmingly smug. When you ask why, he responds with:

"Mystery?" A scoff. "Why don't you just say you're too scared?"

Well now he just wants a fight.

You don't know what comes over you at that point; Maybe it's the vibe, the drinks, something else or all of it combined, because it feels like a blink from being there under Crosshair's arm, to convincing the bouncer to let you at the mic.

Thankfully it doesn't require much, as it seem all the rehearsed performances were finished for the night, and now the mic was pretty much open to anyone willing and able to give it a shot.

Considering you that person, you take it into your hands and decide to give it 110, hoping to at least shut Crosshair's fat mouth.

The rest of it is all a blur; A series of sung words and perhaps some dancing that might not of been entirely appropriate, had the crowd not absolutely ate it up.

Whats the point in singing and not dancing anyhow? You think, hips shaking from side to side in a slow but perfect pace with the beat of the music. Once the first song finishes, you feel enough of a high that you decide to do another, and it doesn't seem anyone is going to complain at you for doing so. It's a bit of a slower one, so you can't exactly help the way your body sways unconsciously back and forth with the music.

Mid-song however you take a look upward and spot the Batch far in the back, Hunter, Wrecker and Tech turned at the waist an arm over the back of the seat to watch. Crosshair however as you eyes locked right on you while you sing-

And he is fucking furious.

At least it seems like he's fuming, it's sometimes hard to tell. Though it's pretty safe to say he's more affected by this little stunt, to say the least.

You don't go back to the booth once you finally manage to sneak off stage through demands for more, as by the time you enter the hall to go wash up in the bathroom quick, you find Crosshair is leaning by the wall waiting. When he spots you, his body rises off the way in a way that gives away how tense his body is, shoulders straight.

He must've come back here the moment you left the stage, intent to cut you off and steal a moment with you alone.

"You looked like you were having fun up there." His tone is tense, but you respond to it with your usual quips.

"I did. And did you like the show?"

Normally saying those sorts of things is how you try to disarm his attitude, but it only serves to make it worse this time, as you smile at him with the confident smirk of a job well done. You feel positively bubbly now after having that much fun, and seeing Crosshair stewing over what you assume is his failed dare.

The show had all been for him, so he better have enjoyed it. Not to say you didn't enjoy preforming. Maybe your friend didn't have such a bad idea after all; You wouldn't be so resistant to doing so again if the opportunity arose.

You take a few steps closer to Crosshair, anymore and you'd be brushing chests, seeing his pursed lips.

"What?"

You barely have a chance to say anything else before he grabs you shoulder and kisses you, his other hand reaching for the handle of the refresher door. It's empty, and so he pushes you in, locking it behind him near instantly. By the time he does his mouth is already back against your own, teeth brushing against your bottom lip.

There isn't much room to maneuver at all in here; It's so tight being really only meant for one person. As such in order to get a bit of breathing room you end up on the countertop, knees parted to let him in the moment you're able.

You'd originally come with a coat, but having long since shed it before going up on stage, Crosshair has unimpeded access to the soft skin of your neck.

"Cross!" You say when his hands grip your thighs tight, squeezing the soft flesh beneath his gloved palms.

"Everyone's gonna wonder where we are..." Your sentence fades off, feeling his lips on your skin and the coldness of the mirror on your back. The hem of your skirt has already gotten pushed up nearly to your hips from sitting in this position, and it only takes one tug from Crosshair to fully send it there and reveal your underwear.

"I don't care."

You didn't really expect him to, but his strained comment is still amusing none the less.

His lips roughly trap yours again in a kiss as he fumbles to remove the one piece of armor he needs to, throwing it aside with a loud thunk as it hits the ground. There's not a care in the galaxy for it right now, as all of his attention is on you.

You can't help the soft sigh that leaves your lips as you feel his hand brush over the heat of your cunt, as he tries to tear away your panties. When he realizes you have stockings on over them, he lets out something you can only describe as a growl in frustration.

"How many fuckin' things you got on under there?" You can't hold back the small giggle you let out.

"In a hurry?"

It'll be easier- and faster, if you kick off your heels, doing so before Crosshair loses his patience and just tears runs all the way through the razor thin fabric. The heat of his fingers is palpable through it, as he pulls your stockings and underwear in one bunch down to your hips. You have to rise up on your palms a bit to try and help, before they get yanked down enough that they dangle around one ankle.

Swearing that you can feel his nails make little dents in the skin of your ass even through his gloves, he grasps your hips tight and yanks you to the edge of the countertop and even a bit over, legs dangling precariously before they wrap around his hips. In that moment you can feel his hips grind against your almost of their own accord, and the feeling sends a jolt right to your clit.

The fabric of your dress is a deep red, perfectly matching the splash of worn red paint that adorns his armor; Exactly what you'd thought when you'd bought it. You're glad it's served you so well so far.

"I'm pleased you liked my little dance so much,"

You say with a laugh, feeling him fumble with the fabric of his body glove just out of view. One arm wraps around his neck, fingers playing with the short grey hair at his nape, while the other tries to keep you steady and on top of the countertop. Not as if Crosshair would let you fall, anyhow. But it still is in the back of your mind, within the tight confines of the refresher this isn't much room at all and if you stretched your legs out fully, you'd just be able to touch the opposing wall.

"Everyone did. They couldn't look away from you."

Oh, so he's a little jealous, you think. Never thought you'd hear him near admit he was fuming over some drooling shinies, but there's a first time for everything.

"Who cares about them; It was all for you." You didn't care that anyone else had been looking at you but him, even beyond the stupid dare.

Freeing his cock from his body glove you feel the heat against your bare thigh, stealing a quick kiss and feeling the tiny bit of stubble dotting his jawline. It'll be gone tomorrow so it's military appropriate, but for now you can enjoy the rough feeling on your skin as his fingers brush against your cunt.

You have to inch even closer, more precariously so his cock can press up against you, teasing your entrance as as your cunt drips. Your legs are lazily wrapped around his hips, and only tighten as he slips inside of you, the rough edges of his armor stiff against your skin.

He doesn't really have much else to wear beside it, not that you mind its being on.

"You're the one that dared me,"

He hears you whisper his name under your breath as he pushes his way into your cunt, over the sounds of more random music outside the door. Though you can't hear it for much longer; As it's drowned out by the sound of rough panting and clothed skin on skin, muffled by the fabric of his body glove. It quickly becomes stained a darker black from where your cunt drips onto it.

"I dared you to go up there and sing," He grits his teeth in a rare lapse of stoicism, hissing through. "Not do that." A rough jerk of his hips cause you to gasp, as he feels like he's going to drive right into your stomach. The angle makes everything tighter, so much closer, and your cunt flutters around him.

"So I can't do that again?" You sound breathless, but the mirth in your voice still shines through.

He scoffs, lips on the corner of your mouth.

"Just do it where only I can see you."

The air between you both is thick with hot breath and flushed skin, and you'd love nothing more than to rip this dress off if not for the fact that you aren't at your apartment- you're instead getting railed in the bathroom at 79's.

Your chest feels like it's going to bounce out of your bra from the way he's fucking you; Having to adjust top of your dress to avoid it spilling out. It's not back in presentable fashion and would be quite easy to tell how your evening's been going, but right now you could barely care.

You just want to cum fast and hard, eager to chase that peak as Crosshair tries to drive you into the mirror at your back.

You're going to feel it in the morning if he keeps this up, feeling the way his cock grinds against your already battered, oversensitive nerves. Hell, you're already feeling it right now; Your muscles ache tight, fingers prying at the edges of his plastoid armor. If he didn't have it on, he'd surely have nail marks on his shoulder blades.

"Gods, fuck Crosshair, I'm so close,"

Your stomach is tight and twisting in knots, and your swear you can feel your heartbeat in your cunt your thighs shiver and shake. Your head lolls back hitting the mirror as you moan, legs tightening around him as your orgasm wracks your entire body.

He keeps fucking you through it even if slowly, driving his cock as deep as he can given the position. But even if he did slow, there's still an aggressiveness, a desperation to it all. Everything is in the heat of the moment, even his almost incomprehensible mumblings, some that are your name, and others praises that he'd feel to open saying out loud without an aura of cockiness.

His hand grips the back of your dress enough to leave wrinkles and probably be close to busting one of the seams, pulling you bottom close as he fully bottoms out inside of you. His hips slow to an inconsistent, shallow movements as he finishes inside of you, some of his own cum leaking out around his cock as he slows to deeper, longer thrusts while his body ratchets down.

When he finally stills, body now far loosen and relaxed than he'd been minutes ago, you still feel the way your cunt flutters as your muscles ache from use.

"Let's go back to your apartment." He suddenly utters out, still slightly out of breath. Your head rests against his shoulder, the cold plastoid cool against your flushed skin.

"Can I get my coat and say goodbye to my friends before you usher me into a taxi?" Crosshair rolls his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. You don't disagree that perhaps somewhere more private is a better place to be, and you slowly attempt to pull up your stockings and underwear enough to hop off the counter; Crosshair not helping, but ready in case you stumble. Once on the ground you're slipping up your underwear, feeling the slickness of your cunt dampen them ever so slightly.

"Was that dance not good enough farewell?" You roll your eyes. Your one heel is easy to find, the other takes a moment to slip on sounding strained as you bend over to put it on.

"Like I said; That was just for you." Crosshair doesn't respond, looking away as his pursed lips twitch in thought. It takes a moment to adjust the hem of your dress, before you feel ready enough to reach for the door.

You quickly rush to grab your things and say goodnight to everyone, attempting to defuse any curious questions as to your absence post performance. Tech tries to inquire as to Crosshair's absence, but the sniper quickly snips the conversation stating he just needed to tell you something, before saying he needs to grab a taxi and removes himself from the firing line for anymore questions.

And now he needs to bring you home, conveniently enough.

Wrecker seems disappointed that two members of the party are leaving, but once more food and drinks arrive in front of him he quickly gets over it. He'll probably be too drunk to remember most of the night anyways, and Hunter will end up the same if Tech doesn't cut him off.

After getting a 'stay safe' from Hunter it's a quick jaunt outside into the cool evening air, when Crosshair is standing with a hailed Taxi stopped right behind him. He's looking right at you, leaning against the outside as you come closer.

"All finished?" He says, arms crossed. You watch as he moves to the side to let you in, and you just look up at him and smile as you slip in, saying:

"Maybe."

Join the taglist here: @seriowan @simp-legend @nekotaetae @chad-something @coffeyorky @merkitty49 @lokigirlszendaya @totesnothere04 @get-wr3ckered @rebel-finn @mandoloriancookie @therealnekomari @loverofclones @notthatfanfictionwriter @lucyysthings @jennrosefx @fxlsealarm @crosshairs-wife @sinfulsalutations @Rennyboo9 @pb-jellybeans @jediknightjana

#this one was a little out of my element but i'm not displeased with it so im happy #the bad batch crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #Crosshair/Reader #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #Crosshair x you #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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theycallmebecca · 11 months

Text

18+ Drabble: Juicy Watermelon

Here is my June story for @the-slumberparty. I got the idea for a juicy watermelon and my friend choose Andy Barber when I asked her to pick a Chris character... and there was this one idea I just couldn't get past... so I wrote it... and it turned smutty.

The prompts I used were watermelon and cottage, with a bonus use of sundress.

Title: Juicy Watermelon

Pairing: Andy Barber x female reader

Rating: R

Warnings: semi-graphic sex

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

18+ Disclaimer: This work contains sexual material that is for those over the age of 18. By clicking the keep reading link below, you are agreeing that you are over the age of 18 and are not offended by sexual content.

Usage Disclaimer: This work is for fans only. This author does not give permission for it to be shared, spoken of, referred to in any public manner (podcast, tv, online, etc.) that wants to either make a celebrity uncomfortable, mock fan fiction/fandom in any way, or the author themselves. Requests can be made, but it is unlikely the author will change their mind. If no response is given to a request then the answer is a solid no, not interested and the work cannot be shared, spoken of or even referred to, regardless of the manner or context.

Sweet juice ran down your chin as you took a bite of watermelon.

Across the table from you, Andy watched as the juice trailed down your neck and into your cleavage.

He wanted nothing more than to lick the juice from your skin, but the two of you weren’t alone.

Glancing around the deck, Andy saw that your friends were all involved in conversations. While he doubted any of them would find it weird for him to move to the other side of the table, he was pretty sure they’d all notice if he shoved his face into the front of your sundress.

“Andy?”

Hearing your voice, he forced himself to look up from your breasts and to your face.

“Are you ok?”

You sounded genuinely concerned, but Andy saw the sparkle in your eye that told him you knew exactly what was going on in his head.

Andy remained silent and watched as you took another juicy bite, letting more juice dribble down your neck.

Unable to stay still a second longer, Andy stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over in the process.

Hiding a smile behind your watermelon, you watched as he assured everyone he was ok before declaring he was going for a walk.

“I’ll come with you,” you said.

You followed him down the path that led to the lake, happily munching on the watermelon as you walked.

Once you were out of sight and hearing of the cottage, Andy pulled you off the path and pushed you against the trunk of a tree.

Your eyes closed as his tongue traced the sticky trail left behind by the watermelon. He started at your chin and made his way down to your cleavage.

In all honesty, you hadn’t set out to tease him, but then you’d noticed how he’d watched the juice disappear into the front of your dress and it had excited you.

“I need you,” you whispered to him.

Andy pulled his face from your cleavage and surveyed the wooded area around you.

Sensing his unease about it, you said, “I left my panties in our room.”

His head snapped back in your direction. You smiled and gave a small shoulder shrug.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered as his hands slipped under your dress to confirm the lack of your panties. “Fuck.” He hissed out the word as he cupped your bare sex.

You moaned as his fingers teased your sensitive flesh, finding you more than ready for him.

“We’ll have to be fast,” he said, his fingers slipped into you as he spoke, making you moan again. “And quiet.”

“Please,” you begged him, rocking your hips against his touch.

Andy cursed but pulled his hand from your sex to undo the ties of the board shorts he was wearing, freeing his quickly growing erection.

"Lean against the tree," he said.

You pressed your back against the rough bark and grabbed a hold of Andy's shoulders when he lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and had to bite down on your lower lip to keep from moaning as he slid into you, filling you completely.

Clasping your hands behind his neck, you rocked back against him. Your body meeting his every thrust.

"Fuck," he groaned.

"Shh," you teased before pressing your lips to his.

In the end, it didn't take long for either of you.

The earlier teasing combined with the thrill that you could be caught at any moment had you both worked up.

With your legs clasped behind his back, Andy moved one of his hands from your ass and slipped it between your bodies, teasing your sensitive numb until you came undone.

You pulled your mouth from his and pressed it against your arm as you came, your body shaking. Your orgasm triggered Andy's and you felt him jerk under you, filling you with his seed.

Andy pressed his forehead against your shoulder for a moment, to catch his breath.

"That was fun," you whispered. "We should do it outside more often."

"You're going to be the death of me," he said with a laugh.

#navy and roo's sleepover #theycallmebecca #theycallmebeccawrites #Andy Barber #Andy Barber fanfiction #Andy Barber fanfic #Andy Barber fan fiction #Andy Barber x you #Andy Barber x female reader #Andy Barber x y/n #becca writes 18+ drabbles

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matsunosan · 2 years

Note

Hi can i request facesitting with Ran?

FACESITTING WITH RAN! - RAN HAITANI X READER

A/N: You have no idea what this man DOES TO ME OMG- I had so much fun with this. I hope you enjoy!! Leave more asks in the ask box loves!

Prompt: Facesitting with Ran!

Summary: You weren't exactly a fan of facesitting, anxious that you would hurt Ran in the process. However, after pushing his buttons, you don't have a choice.

WARNINGS: NSFW, facesitting, pet names, literally pure smut

Word Count: 1,140

Y/N = your name

Y/N/N = your nickname

The steam from the bathroom slowly crept into your and Ran’s shared bedroom. Your aching body opened the heavy door after a long day at work, deciding to strip yourself of your work clothes and join Ran in his shower for a nice surprise. You quickly unbuttoned your shirt, tossing it to the ground and kicking off your shoes as you made your way to the master bathroom. As you entered, the heat of the steam hit your face. Finally. You desperately wanted to relax, to unwind the tensity of every sore muscle in your body. You took off the last bits of clothing and without a second thought, stepped into the shower.

Ran was busy rinsing the soap out of his hair to hear you step in the shower behind him. You took this moment to admire his toned frame. The way that every muscle would flex as he ran his hands through his hair made heat pool down into the depths of your core. You needed him. And you needed him now. Deciding to scare him a bit, you reached a hand out to give Ran’s ass a gentle squeeze as he finished rinsing the suds out of his locks. Ran’s eyes immediately shot open as he whipped around to see who the culprit was. “Jesus Y/N,” he chuckled, letting out a breath. “Don’t scare me like that baby.” You giggled, wrapping your arms around his torso and hugging him close. “I missed you,” you whispered against his skin. “So much.” Ran smiled, knowing that you probably had a rough day at work. He returned the embrace and you took the chance to squeeze at his ass again. “Princess,” Ran used the name to scold you. “If you keep misbehaving, I’ll have to punish you.” So, you squeezed his ass again.

Ran told you that your punishment would come after the shower, but it felt like it had already begun. His long fingers traveled swiftly across your body as he washed every inch of your skin delicately. He massaged the knots in your back and shoulders, spending extra time on the spots that made you wince in pain. “My poor baby,” he cooed, hands burning fire through the flesh. “Work’s got you so wound up.” You sighed in response, wishing that the moment would never end. But to your dismay, Ran turned off the shower head once you were clean and stepped out of the shower. He handed you a clean towel to dry yourself off, and as you stepped your way back into the bedroom, he grabbed your wrist. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked slyly, a mischievous grin on his face. “I was just going to grab something to wear,” you responded, tugging lightly at his grip. Ran tightened his hand around you, “Not so sure about that, doll.” You shot him a bratty look before being tugged into his arms. Ran’s chest was flush against your back as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “I’m going to make that pretty face of yours beg for mercy.” And he did.

Your legs shook nervously as your slick hovered over Ran’s mouth, his hands clasped around your thighs. Ran knew how you felt about facesitting. He fucking knew. You were embarrassed, afraid of losing strength and crushing his handsome face. He would bring it up every now and then, telling you it was a fantasy of his. Ran was desperate to have you sit on his fucking face, and you were always too scared to let it happen. Now, you didn’t have a choice. He told you it was your punishment for misbehaving and you knew what would happen if you disobeyed any further. So here you were, a rambling mess as Ran smiled underneath you, his head resting on a pillow on your shared bed. ‘“R-Ran,” you whined. “Please.” “Please?” he smiled. “Please what? Use your words Y/N.” You didn’t want to give in. You wanted to stand your ground, but you wanted to feel him inside you so fucking bad. “Please let me s-sit on your face,” you said barely above a whisper. You knew that wasn’t good enough. Why in the hell would you even try? Ran loved hearing your sweet words and delicious moans. “Oh my,” Ran’s fingers slowly started to leave your thighs, their support quickly fading. “I couldn’t quite-” “Please let me sit on your face Ran!” you cried. “Now we’re talking.”

Ran had never seen you so vocal before. When you begged him to sit on his face so loudly, he laid there in shock for a moment, his mouth hanging open. He loved having you at his mercy, and his cock twitched violently at the sight. You kneeled there, folds nice and wet from the shower and your slick. Your hair clung to the sides of your face from sweat and each breath shook in anticipation. You were so fucking beautiful. Ran didn’t waste anymore time as his hands returned to your thighs and he harshly brought you down to his mouth. “Fuck Ran,” you sobbed. He gave you no pity, his tongue working its way around your bud like a starved animal. Immediately, your face went numb and you began to lose control over your legs. Ran took note, not stopping his actions as he helped hold you above his head. “R-Ran,” you whined. “It’s too much!” Your shaky hands reached down over his own, holding him in place. As if your words were encouraging, he shifted his grip to replace his tongue with his thumb and his wet muscle switched to dive into your sticky hole.

Your breath became labored, the knot in your core tightening at a terrifying pace while Ran ate you out. The room around you spun, vision going blurry from pure pleasure. This man knew how to drive you absolutely insane. You’ve never come undone so fast. One moment Ran has you quivering in his hold, and then you’re screaming his name while your juices coat Ran’s chin. He licked up everything you gave him, not daring to waste a drop. “Look at you princess,” he smiled up at you, panting while he caught his breath. “So fucking gorgeous.” “That was amazing Ran,” you wheezed. “We should have done that sooner.” “I know love,” he replied, helping you down from your perch above his face. “You have no idea how fucking addicting your pussy is.” You blushed heavily at his words, as if you weren’t just getting the life sucked out of you moments before. Ran looked like he was in heaven, his hands at your waist while you sat there on his chest. “I hope you’ve got another round in you, doll,” Ran grinned from ear to ear.

Shit.

You were really in for it tonight.

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kny-agere · 2 months

Note

kny agere, yay!!!! could i please request little!obanai & cg!mitsuri, maybe with big!muichiro? i can see muichiro lightly teasing obanai in a big sibling fashion and just being really excited about being older for once. maybe obanai trips and gets hurt, so mitsuri gives him lots of hugs and kisses and muichiro helps cheer him up by doing things that always cheer him up when he’s little— like silly faces or tickles!!! just an idea… excited to see what you write next!

Ermmm forgot to add kaburamaru so just pretend the snake is sleeping somewhere (*´-`) Not the exact prompt but I hope I incorporated some themes to ur liking still!! (Side note this was my first time ever writing Mui non-regressed?? Whaaaa)

★彡☆彡★彡

Muichiro wasn’t regressed, not quite, but there was a sense of curiosity that wasn’t usually present in him. He leaned over Mitsuri’s shoulder to stare down at Obanai. “Can I touch him?”

The woman laughed at the odd phrasing. “Sure but you have to be gentle.”

After receiving permission Tokito carefully reached over Mitsuri and brushed him fingers against Iguro’s cheek. He didn’t quite trace the path of the scars but did follow their general direction.

“Will he get mad… that I saw his scars?” He whispered the words so softly that Mitsuri second guesses his state. She’s never heard him speak with such care before.

Muichiro had seen some of Iguro’s scars before. All demon slayers had them. Obanai has scars on his back and arms and everywhere else. Muichiro had seen all of them except the ones on the man’s mouth. It wasn’t hard to guess what the bandages were hiding but actually seeing them still felt like a violation.

“He won’t mind if it’s you. Even now Iguro-kun would freak out if he was scared.” For a moment she bends down to spread kisses over his cheeks. The boy makes a few noises in response and opens his eyes. Slowly he reaches up and takes Muichiro’s finger. His good eye focuses on the figure above him.

The younger boy sticks out his tongue and wiggles it. It pulls a laugh out of Iguro but mostly just because Mitsuri laughs first.

“I like babies.” He never had a younger sibling but with his memories coming back he remembers the young children in his home village. Whenever they traveled down the mountain to sell wood Tokito would get to play with the little ones. They were cute with all their chubby features but Iguro makes up for it with his enchanting eyes.

He pokes his finger against Obanai’s lips. The babies would grab and suck on the digit. Instead the man scrunches up his face like he might cry.

Mitsuri doesn’t scold him but does slowly grab his hand. “Remember how we have to be careful? Don’t be too rough with his face.”

“I wasn’t,” Muichiro insists flatly. He moves his hand away from her grasp and instead pets Obanai’s hair. It’s soft which means Kanroji must’ve washed it. Otherwise it’d feel like straw.

He reacts better to the petting. Iguro’s eyes start to narrow like they might close again.

“If he falls asleep again can I have a turn holding him?” Tokito moves to Mitsuri’s side. He pushes harder to cradle Obanai’s head with one of his hands. It’s cramped with Kanroji’s arm squishing him but he likes being close. “And share the futon too?”

The woman knows that Tokito has the strength to hold Iguro, but considering they’re about the same size the actual logistics of it don’t quite make sense. “Ah well moving Iguro-kun might wake him up but I’m sure that some cuddling will be ok.” She averts her eyes and goes a little red but thankfully Muichiro doesn’t push further. His face is painted with a frown for a brief moment but when Obanai sighs and shifts the boy brightens again.

“Can we do that now?” His tugging makes it clear there’s only one acceptable answer. Mitsuri promises that she’ll work on her indulgence problem and follows the boy out of the room.

#age regression #sfw agere #fandom agere #demon slayer #kny #cglre #agere requests #little!iguro #big brother!muichiro #cg!mitsuri #mitsuri kanroji #muichiro tokito #obanai iguro #kimetsu no yaiba

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autumnslance · 11 months

Text

Writing To Yourself

(Mileage may vary, I'm not your mom nor your teacher--unless you're working for a specific state healthcare service, anyway.)

That's how you garden. Tend the plot. Plant a million seeds, reap a thousand blooms. The rest? Compost for the next crop. -@biot08 / @driftward

During a Discord convo, I thought about why so many fandom writers catch “writer’s block”, and some of it goes back to self-care and taking in new media, getting inspiration and knowledge, covered in this post. But much of it?

People think everything they create has to be publishable for others’ consumption. That is Not True. Too often we don't want to write things just for the sake of writing them, falling into the trap of thinking it needs to be perfectly polished and shared, but No It Really Doesn't.

Folks talk about “writing for oneself” but in terms of posting finished pieces of the kinds they want to see. If everything feels like it “has to be” publishable, it can start to put too much pressure on oneself. And then there’s your block, especially if the type to worry about how others Perceive you and your art.

Try simply writing anything and deciding later if it's something you want to share. I have pieces I wrote cuz my brain suddenly said it wanted to, but that writing isn't posted anywhere. Usually it’s random lines; out of context sentences, scenes, or bits of dialogue. Sometimes just incoherent character rambling. Ideas for situations and what ifs. Misspelled, typos, not grammatical, redundant wording, passive voice, bad POV, too many adverbs, not enough active verbs, not enough description, too much description, etc. All in notebooks or doc files. I’ve shared the (now out-dated) deep nests of my WIPs folders and the multiple, unfinished, unpolished pieces within them. Most will never be completed nor seen by the public.

For instance, I've a random smut fic of a Highlander Warrior of Light and the popular antagonist of Shadowbringers. I'm not usually a villain liker, but one day it hit my brain, so I wrote it. I have notes and outlines for the rest of their story and how it plays out, though I'll probably never write more. I scratched the writing itch, stretched some skills, considered things from a different angle, and now it sits in drafts (I did post a couple decent-ish smut lines to my private Twitter once).

Mostly, it's practice. Even if it's junk and janky.

“But I have (professionally) published X or Y…”

Still gotta exercise the writing muscles! Still gotta scrawl off something utterly unusable now and again for the heck of it!

All those random lines, descriptions, scenes, rambles? Maybe I'll use them someday. I wrote them down to feel the pen in my hand or keys clacking under my fingers, to see the words pop onto the page or screen, to play with word choice, sentence structures, and “how would they say that?” For my own satisfaction, no one else’s.

When I get bored or stuck, or need a screenshot or writing prompt response, I might poke at those lines, pages, rambles, and see if they hit now or spin off to something else. They often don’t. But sometimes they help inform other things I do post to the public later. Even if that’s just a Question of the Day prompt response on Twitter.

(That also counts as writing and creating btw; you’re still coming up with something to share about your characters and I think that’s very creative of you.)

If the mood strikes, write. Even if it's just a vague idea--especially if it's any bits of dialogue or description, if it's something you think that you actually do want to write when off work or out of bed or whatever.

Even if you never post it anywhere public. Even if it never gets out of crummy first draft, unfinished pages form. It might feel like pulling teeth and look rough, especially if it’s been awhile.

But still write it. No one else has to know or see. Not until you want them to.

Maybe parts of it will inform something you do finish later. Maybe two years from now another prompt will hit just right and you’ll dig out that draft and finish it for posting. Maybe you’ll cannibalize aspects of it for an entirely different piece. Maybe you’ll even use it in a few more years to see how far you’ve come as a writer.

In many cases? That's how you actually keep writer's block away. Keeping ideas around to steal from yourself, letting yourself write nonsense, unpublishable bits and pieces, maybe even whole pages, just for the heck of it, if writing is something one enjoys and wants to stick with as a hobby (or professionally). If you don’t enjoy writing for fun? Don’t force it; do little character prompts and blurbs as they feel right, and find the ways to share creativity that work for you.

And seriously, don’t forget to take in new media, experiences, and information. This is How You Lose the Time War got me writing on an original story I shelved last autumn. The stories aren't at all alike! But seeing new words in new ways helped shake something loose in my brain. So try to make some time for that, too.

Write to yourself, not for others’ consumption. Public posting is great for validation and encouragement, for when we feel the urge to share due to pride or just wanting to gush about our faves. But also let yourself remember why you liked creating worlds, making up stuff about your characters, and writing at all to begin with, without the pressure of public posting. Give yourself some grace, and let it all be messy, unhinged, misspelled, ungrammatical, incomplete, and make no narrative sense.

Write to yourself, for yourself. Then let the rest follow.

#Writing #Blogging #Creativity #Posting #Self-Care

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redheadspark · 1 year

Note

Hello! Emerging from my bog bc I see you once again have open prompts. 😆 Only death or end of hyperfixation could make me ignore that. Lol

So, #2 with Jack Russell please? 💘

A/N - Awww this is just a cute thing for you to give me! I would love to write this for you my friend :) I hope you enjoy :D

Endearing

Summary - it's the little things that Jack love you all the more.

Warnings - Just some cute fluff :)

"Honey, can you slow down for a moment?"

"Not yet, baby,” Jack sighed as he was watching you go left and right in your bedroom, going from the closet over to the emergency GYM bag that you were making for him as he was sitting on your bed Indian Style. You were in a deep thought, going over the list in your head at least 6 times to make sure everything that was in the bag and getting a few more shirts and socks. Jack sighed.

"I'm sure you got everything, Amor," he reasoned as you shook your head and headed over to the bathroom you two shared.

"I know I'm missing something," You said aloud, digging in the medicine cabinet and making sure the aspirin was already packed as well as his toothpaste and toothbrush.

This was your ritual every month: packing his "Morning After" bag. You've had plenty of times when he would come back from a rough transformation, battered and bruised or smelling like he rolled in something that was rotting. Although some times it was amusing, yo were still concerned since you knew he would be in a better state if he was prepared.

Jack was not an amateur when it came to being a werwolf, he's had years under his belt. But maybe it was having a second person holding him accountable when making sure he was safe that change everything for him. Jack was used to needing to rely on his own for years and years on end, being in survival mode was not new. However, when you came into his life and took on the discovery of him being a werewolf, you were more concerned about his safety than anything.

That was a true first for him, and it took him some time to get used to.

So now, 7 months in your relationship and with plenty of full moons under your belt when it came to being prepared, it was more of a laundry list and being prepared than going off on a limb. You had idea every time he would come back from a rough night, noting to have him take along some new clothes and some toiletries with him.

In the end, you made a "Morning After" bag that you would send with him when he would go camping and go off on his own the night before. He would find a remote campsite to go to in order to be in a safe place, then coming back the following morning around lunch time. It was a new system that worked for you two, mostly for him, but for you so you wouldn't go insane with worry.

So you planned everything that would go in the bag: spare clothes and toiletries, a basic first aid kit and gauze wrap for the wounds, a burner phone for emergencies, some protein bars and pre-cooked breakfast meals, a small GPS, and a few other things.

Jack had to give an endearing smile, seeing you go back and forth like a working bee. He knew you had his best interest in heart, something he hasn't had with another person in a very long time.

"Babe....come here babe," Jack said to you as you were placing the last of the things you found in his bag. You sighed, feeling him take his handing yours and gently pulling you on the bed with him, "I have everything I need for tomorrow night, okay?"

"I know," You agreed, "I always felt like I'm missing something with what you need, though,"

"Doubtful, you are quite organized when it comes to taking care of me. Compared to myself who is a walking disaster," Jack joked with you as you have him a small stare.

"That's not true," You reasoned.

"No it is true! I am a literal walking mess," Jack said to you with a shrug of his shoulder next to yours, you cracking a smile, "You should have seen me long before you came into my life: a disaster on two feet. One time I think I ate something dead when I was a monster one night, and I had food poisoning for some time after."

"Jack!" You said in a snort, but Jack pressed a kiss against your cheek.

"What I am saying to you, Amor, is that I would be in a very dark place if it wasn't for you," he explained, "I've dealt with this alone for quite some time, and those times were unbearable for me. But now that I know that I have someone who is looking out for me, even with something as simple as a bag," Jack paused as he gestured to the GYM bag that was perched on the edge of the bed, "It makes my life a little brighter."

You felt like crying, hearing that from Jack. Jack would tell you constantly that you were a true beacon in his dark world, no matter how much he wanted to push you away from the thought of your safety being in jeopardy. But you still loved him and you stayed, not willing to let him go. Jack showered you with love them, showing how much he appreciated you being there to hold his hand and remind that he was worthy of being loved and filled with love.

"I just want you to be safe," You explained simply, Jack hummed and kissing you hair.

"I know," He replied, "And I love you for that. And for remembering to pack my extra underwear...again,"

You snorted as he engulfed you in his arms, you both falling on top of the bed in laughter.

The End.

Valentine Prompt Session

#jack russell x y/n #jack russell x you #jack russell x fem!reader #jack russell x reader #jack russell #werewolf by night fanfiction #werewolf by night #mcu writing #mcu fanfiction #mcu phase 4 #marvel cinematic fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe

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fang-and-feather · 1 year

Text

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Rating: G

Category: F/M, Multi

Relationship: Leonardo da Vinci/MC/Theodorus van Gogh (can be seen as a V or Triad)

Prompt(s): Inspiration from @polyamships

Summary: Leonardo hasn't created anything for a long time, but his family might be the change he was waiting for.

This was supposed to be a test drive for a pairing I was suggested but ended being a undefined polyamorous fic, short and done last minute, without any direct character interaction. Not much of a test drive. Maybe next month... Also my poor attempt at an event banner...

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

Leonardo hadn’t really been able to paint for ages, or do much of anything that went beyond the drafting stage, but, as time went by with his new family, he often found himself more inspired, especially after the baby was born.

In fact, his most detailed sketches were either of his girlfriend when their relationship was beginning and whenever he saw something new in her, or of her or Theo with the baby, sometimes the three of them together, and a few only of the baby.

Maybe it was the novelty of it all that inspired him the most. Or maybe it was about having proof these fleeting moments were real and not just a dream in the future. When his wife was gone, the child had grown, and he had no idea what his relationship to Theo would be by then.

Or, worse yet, when so much time had passed that he was left alone with his feelings and memories.

As a pureblood vampire, he was eternal. Everyone else’s lives were so fleeting compared to his, even of the other vampires.

But the idea of keeping physical proof of these moments sounded both tempting and scary. Being surrounded by these memories would be a blessing or a curse?

Leonardo didn’t know, so he refrained from giving in to these bouts of inspiration, even when Theo caught him sketching and practically begged him to try painting again.

But one late afternoon, after coming back from the town and not finding his wife, Leonardo walked into the baby’s room, to find her and Theo huddled together on the sofa, the baby secure in their arms, all three of them fast asleep, bathed into the orange glow of the setting sun.

It was such a warm scene. Even Theo looked so peaceful and soft instead of his usual rough and tense, always working and always in a hurry. A moment Theo would try to deny or downplay when he woke up.

The painting was done slowly and in secret, with borrowed materials and Leonardo considered abandoning it many times, questioning the use of his rare moments alone, but for once, he saw it to the end.

Maybe it was because he never considered sharing it with anyone else but his family. He had no intention of creating for the public ever again, but Leonardo realized it didn’t mean never creating again.

Using his inspiration to please his family wasn’t so bad. Maybe not as often as inspiration struck or he wouldn’t have the space, but making something special every once in a while was good enough to pass time and show what his family and the memories he had of them were important for him.

After all, they were the ones who inspired him to enjoy the moment instead of just letting everything for later, or thinking that nothing mattered much because he had all the time in the world. And even for the rest of eternity, they would be his inspiration for how he would live his life, to watch his family continue to grow and change and he would continue creating for them.

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

#polyamshippingday #ikemen vampire #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp theo #ikevamp mc #ot3: leonardo x mc x theo #polyamory #ikevamp #ikevamp fanfic #fanfiction #fang's writing

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roughdaysandart · 2 months

Text

My magnum opus: This portion of the Ch16 Rough Day comic script edits

Ok I say something's my magnum opus ALOT, but this is it...at least for now, thats how much I adore this. Once again im trying to keep as much of it to the original as possible but there really is so much that you can do to modify that much charachter-developing smut out before you have to make another scenario to convey the same message and flow with the original story and plot/direction seamlessley.

Why did I suddenly jump to abridging the LAST section of ch 16 for chrisitan roomates today? Well, I happened to rewatch Eyes Wide Shut today, and the Christmas party scene between Alice and the Stranger got me thinking of the perfec scenario in which to remove explicit smut from the picture while conveying the same idea:

Instead of taunting Mando with Spicy Comm time, why not have Sweet Girl talking to another man while he listens instead?

ALOOOOt of good ideas from EWS entering my mind palace now (not the creepy ones tho...also def no infidelity bc SG WOULD NEVER) for the edits, and Im so excited to share more editied/revised/added scenes prompted by EWS!

***DISCLAIMER: since this more like a script right now, not all of the dialougue is included yet (will do that when I make my way back to CH 16 in a few weeeks probrobly, trying to do edits in chronological order of the chapters), just the descriptions and jists of the changed scenes, how they relate to past and future content, etc, although admit thats some parts have full dialougue because I couldnt stop myself.***

Anyway, heres your CHUM my fellow sickos, feast away!

---------------------------------------------------------

ROUGH DAY (original by @no-droids), CH 16, "Ask me again tomorrow" (last part): ABRIDGED FOR CHRISTIAN ROOMATES BY @roughdaysandart

Sweet Girl is in the middle of downtown Nariss, after buying a change of clothes. Standing in the square right in front of a large tower of an inn. She surveys at least two dozen floors, noticing how it even boasts a convention/event center, or maybe it's a restaurant, somewhere around the center, the large, warmly-lit balcony likely having a perfect view of the city skyline, and she hears it audibly bustling. She notices a banner outside the front doors of the Inn advertising an all-night auction. Some traveling collection of artistic and historical rarities from the outer-rim.

Knowing it's crazy-expensive to pay for anythig here, she knows there's no way she's spending her precious credits on a room, even after spending last night in a tree, and is definitely not feeling bold enough to break into a room either when a New Republic headquarters is literally right next to the Inn.

At first she naturally wants to stay clear of officers, knowing they're trouble for Din, but then recalls what he said before she left.

(insert flashback : “I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it. I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.”

Thinking about the growing variables in her favor, along with her increasing fatigue, she decides she IS feeling bold enough to try sneaking into the lobby or a secluded corner within the inn that has a sofa she could rest on for the night. But then another thought comes to mind: on the chance that Din does get close to her tonight: if she’s going for crowds and officers, why try to be out of the way then? Why not take it as far as she possibly can right now?

She shuffles in her pack to find and put on her mechanic’s goggles, which she only brought out of habit, not believing that she would actually end up using them for something like this. Finding a spare tool and trash bin in an adjacent alley, she confidently walks past the Inn’s receptionist, grumbling about how she hates being called in this late for repairs. She then rides the lift to a random floor, finds her way to the nearest bathroom, leaves the tools in a random stall, and takes all the time in the galaxy freshening herself up and changing into her clean clothes.

Close to midnight. She knows where she's gotta go next. Leaving her bag in the fancy decorative dresser in the ladies room, she walks out, an air of vitality entering her despite the fatigue with the new feeling of cleanliness. Making her way to the lift again, she politely asks a passing service droid where that auction she saw a banner for is tonight.

She finds everything she's looking for there. She expected something like this, but didn't expect to hit the total Maker-jackpot. There are officers even at the door of the bar, holding security for the largest and grandest collection of items she has ever seen on the balcony. For them to not hire private security, she thinks, the event or company must be affiliated with the New Republic somehow, maybe some resesrch-based or educational branch. Shes seen countless large gatherings these past few months as a consequence of traveling with Din, but never has she been to anything like this. Such a vibrant venue littered with well dressed attendees, whom she guesses must all be there to admire or bid for the pieces. Upon passing the epicenter of the auction, she takes notice of the particularly ordinary outer-rim objects and such displayed, knowing first hand of how common or worthless such things are, at least back on Arvala-7. Perhaps to everyone else, such ordinary things from the outer-rim are seen as exotic rarities.

She also comes to see that the balcony and patio is not only a convention center, but also dons an equally exsquisite bar. And it's not the mere presence of a bar that necessarily excites her, but the plethora of plush seating fixtures littering the surrounding space of it. And although she didn't want to waste credits on a room here, she KNOWS she has credits for what she sees as she nears the bar. She can't resist when she notices a certain wine fixture on one of the glass shelves, its contents the same distinct color as and labeled with the depiction of that purple fruit she had come to crave these last few days here.

Drink in hand, she makes her way to the large sofa up against the corner farthest from the doors, passing close to and admiring the view of the skyline at the edge of the balcony. Now, her view is triangulated, where she can see the bar, crowded auction, and the vast opening of the balcony. She plans to just rest there for a few hours, maybe just doze off until she gathers her strength again and can scurry off to begin evading Din long enough tomorrow to reach the orphanage.

It is then she notices the comm clock change to midnight, and she opens the comm first, making an effort to cup her hand along her face and ear in an attempt to block the ambient chatter from Din. He notices her demeanor, along with the chatter, predicting correctly that she is somewhere nicer in the city after spending last night in a tree. They talk for a few minutes as she continues to sip on her glass, more frequently as the banter grows, not imagining the fruit could taste any better than it already did. Okay with the alcohol, yes, but also with Din’s company. He mentions that they need to charge the communicators tonight, and SG contemplates how she is going to find a place to leave hers as she rests in the bar for the night.

After a bit of her glass is emptied, she sets it on the low table in front of her, readying to respond to Din’s last remark. From her lowered gaze, she sees a hand reach out, lifting to take it away. “Sorry, that's my glass”, she protests as she adjusts her gaze upwards, vision noticeably a little buzzed. A well dressed man. A very well dressed man. He pauses as she blinks, pulled out of her euphoria in forgetting anyone else or thing existed beyond the exchange between her and Din. In one motion he then slides past the table to sit by her at the empty side of the long sofa, handing the glass back to her hand. “I’m absolutely certain of it.” he clarifies warmly.

The comm is still open. She would have closed it to prevent anything the man said from possibly giving her location away, but her mind was lagging a little both from the unexpected newcomer and the continued buzz. The man's tone is noticeably flirtatious. A small introductory exchange occurs, and she entertains his flattery lightly, giving passive responses and continuing only because she is so humored by how Din relentlessly questions who this man is, what she's doing, through the earpiece. And, she can't help but feel a bit reckless with this ridiculously good wine in her system.

Throughout the conversation, her responses double in meaning to both the man and Din. They are mildly flirtatious responses to the man, but are in fact clever answers to all that Din grunts through the earpiece as he grows more agitated, though most of it is purposefully taunting, being how he knows this tone is only for him. But it is for him,she reasons, it just happens to also answer the things that man in front of her says.

The man attempts to impress her by mentioning his prestigious position in the traveling exhibition of outer rim rarities and such (funny line: about how she is an outer rim rarity/beauty). He mentions that this is the gallery’s last night, that they always do an all-night event to close the gallery before leaving in the morning. He sighs, stating how disappointed he is that he decided to leave earlier than the end of the event tonight, not expecting to happen upon company like her. He explains that he even had all his things already packed and put on the company ship, and that he was just on his way to drop off his key before he sat here (flashing the room key from out of his pocket intentionally).

She obviously doesn't even consider the proposition, but thinks for a moment. An empty room, a high rise SUITE, and the guest is conveniently NOT spending their last night in it. She, or maybe the wine, convinces herself that she HAS to keep entertaining him so she can distract him long enough to swipe that key. It's beyond dangerous territory with Din hearing it all, like poking a caged animal with the way he can just do nothing but endure. She may know that it's just a distraction to get the room key, but Din most certainly won't. He will think she is escalating things just to get to him for no reason, and she wouldn't normally be this bold, but the promise of a free shower and mattress is too irresistible. Plus, she's sure she can explain herself to him, however warped but harmless her logic is right now, once he calms down. If he calms down. If he doesn't find her right this second and choke this man out right in front of her with blind rage. But Din’s growing demands into the comm to know her location make it obvious that he won't be finding her anytime soon.

She takes that into consideration, and can't help but enjoy the sudden power trip she has in making Din this helpless, knowing how rare it is. Disguised in conversation with the man, she lets Din know of her desire for him to see her, and how he should naturally feel the same desire. It's in this section that she discovers and turns on the video function of the communicator.

“…You wouldn’t.” Din challenges.

Din can now see and hear her head-on as the comm on her wrist faces her head while it moves to rest on the higher cushion of the couch near the man’s neck. Din is obviously fuming through the ear piece the whole time now being able to see what she is doing. Between blending conversation with the man, she manages to look into the camera and basically speak directly to Din, the audacity only making him more ruffled. The conversation with the man continues to escalate, and she moves closer, subtly inching her freehand where she knew she saw the key return to his pocket.

After successfully swiping the key, the next few moments in their conversation ultimately brings it to an end. The man asks about something that makes her response include a word that has “Man” within it, and the exchange ends something like this:

“Man-uh-man(___finish word___),” she stutters, feeling something as her heart remembers that all too familiar word she was so close to uttering. The stuttering means that she is taken aback when she hears something in the earpiece interrupt the word. “Din,” he whispers, so quiet she almost wouldn't have heard if it didn't come directly in her ear, like he almost doesn’t want to but has to anyway, and then her face turns red hot. The man asks if everything is alright with her sudden flusteredness.“D-Din,” she blurts instead, trying to keep her voice as quiet as possible through the rising swell, though at the same time quite forcefully trying to NOT say it. It would NOT be good to mention his name to anyone, even if by accident, even if the man has no idea what those three precious letters really mean. She blurts, “D-DINNER, I–uh– need to have dinner, that's all-uh. T-too much to drink heh heh”.

The man mentions how late it is for dinner, though propositions to join her. She manages to convince him to stay seated when she promises to let him after she uses the ladies room. In the last few creative flirtatious remarks she uses to try and appear genuine about it, Din’s voice comes through the ear piece, only different.

“Stop.” he growls, the return of his natural authoritative tone jarring in her flustered moment. He must have seen it, she thinks. She still had her wrist up when she was caught off guard, before she ended the video-function. He saw the way her tummy and chest started to heave, how her body froze at the shock of hearing him say his name suddenly—and yeah, Maker, he saw it, because his tone makes her quickly scurry out of the bar, sad to have accidentally left the rest of her glass behind. Oh well, she thinks, just makes the man believe more that she's coming back, better for her she guesses.

Making her way back to the bathroom she cleaned up in a few levels below, she begins trying to explain herself to a very incoherent Din, trying to start with how she had to do it, but not able to clarify exactly why she had to quick enough over Din’s explosiveness. The middle of the exchange goes something like this:

“Dank Far–,” Din spits through the earpiece, and she thinks the mic might just break. “You think—y-you think—”

What?” she hums, basking in the afterglow and rush of the epic saga before and so, so curious. Truly, completely mindless in this cloud of sensation, she has no clue what she's thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell her, it’s him.

She reaches into the dresser in the ladies room and hauls her heavy pack onto her back. There’s a moment where his breathing stops. It’s completely silent on the line, before she hears another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.

“You think you can taunt me?” He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet. “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there? You think that’s gonna work?”

She makes her way out into the hall and towards the lift, considering it. He may have not predicted her strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising her by now. “...Maybe.”

You can hear the seeping agitation in the short pause.

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

Ooh. That one sends goosebumps down her arms, but she's gained four hours on top of a twelve hour head start. He can’t scare her with that tone, not when she's still woozy with giddyness and he isn’t right in front of her. Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, she just blinks gently at the communicator as she pushes the button to the floor that matches the one on the room key, finding strength in being the only one to get him this worked up when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word. “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”

“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly. Stars, her heart subtly begins to pick up at the speed in which he's going to speak this fast. “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid. Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days. I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss. You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”

The chill down her spine doesn’t reach her eyes, she doesnt let it. She just feels herself smile, tilting her head, but Din doesn’t accept her silence the way she’s always accepted his. He wants an answer from her, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what she originally planned for.

“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey.

As the lift door opens, she thinks ahead and decides to spare them both his likely meteoric response of hearing the room door beep and open in a minute.

“How long do you think you can keep running?”

She waits a second when she braces herself at what she's about to dare to do before she quickly whispers it. “I………gotta go”, she winces with a mischievous smile as she goes to close the comm line.

“DON’T YOU D-” Dins voice starts, only to be cut off immediately.

The silence is deafening after, him practically yelling that last bit, and she hopes that the cradle was closed so the kids' poor little ears were saved from the blast. She exits the lift and moves down the hall, heart still racing from daring to cut him off at the peak of his rage. She finally finds the key’s matching room, and Maker, when she opens the door, she tries to stifle her gasp so as to not wake any neighbors in the hall.

The room is extravagant. The first thing she notices is the giant window peeking over the breathtaking skyline, letting in all of the purple and blue hues of light the sky blended with the glowing lights of the city. And then the bed, a giant bed and a giant mattress. It might as well be made out of pure spice the way it makes her nearly sob with happiness.

She then spends an untraceable amount of time enjoying the exploits of her treacherous efforts. An actual shower and mattress, dying of sleep depravity and the mental energy needed to keep up that whole exchange through it. Once she finally pauses to settle on the bed, she opens the comm line again, bracing herself for what might be the most nervous she's had to be in a while.

“Finally going to tell me where you are?”. Din’s voice isn't loud, but it most certainly isn't relaxed. He must be livid now, having all that time to fester and brew as she took her time cleaning herself up in the fresher. He might only sound this calm not to scare her off, if that's what he thinks made her hang up last time anyway. “In a way, yeah.” she starts. “It's actually good news, but you may hate me for it, if you don't already.” She lets a short pause ring in the air in an attempt to measure his temperature. “.......good news…..” Din finishes, audibly impatient and saying it through a clenched jaw. Seeing how he is making such a desperate effort to sound composed and just keep her talking, she once again thinks it's safe to venture into dangerous territory once more tonight with him.

“Remember how you thought I wasn't planning to stay with someone I'd already met, or I'd already be there?”

“…………………………………..yes”

“…..Well I am here””

“…………………………………..okay”

“B-but i'm not with them”

“................................................uhhuh”

“A-and do you remember the man I talked to earlier, at the bar?”

“.............................................…I'm trying not to”

And do you remember when he mentioned his uh…room?

“………”

“D-din?”

“……………………….how…could I….forget.” Din spurts through gritted teeth, almost a mumble. She's sure if he's got something in his hand right now, it's most certainly broken with the way his fists must be clenched, she just prays it's not the kid.

“Uh-well-I um….”

“…………………………………......you what?”

“.........................................…. I’m in their room–”

“you–”

A prolonged silence sinks in, and she wonders how long she can even let this go on before something genuinely bad happens. She's already had her fun for the night, why push it more when she's already gotten what she wanted out of him?

Letting DIn’s stunned silence radiate a few seconds more, she finally laughs, explosively, forgetting any concept of neighbors anymore. Stuttering between giggles, she manages to utter: “Im-s-soryy-HAHA-its b-because I haha-i um–....I st-stole his room key—hahaHAHAHAHAH–I–m so sorry that I -–ha– but it was right there and he didn't even notice-HAHAHA- when he was busy talking to me, so dumb and clueless HAHAHAHAHAHA” . More silence over the comm, and she wonders if he actually hung up before she could finish before. She stops laughing a moment to check in case. “D-din? I'm so sorry, haha” she says breathlessly, gasping for air and hoping for any response at all at this point.

“......For the first time in my life, I feel provoked to throw my helmet.”

“ahaha–Please dont be mad, I had to–”

“ –Mad? That's not the word we're dealing with, what we've got is something I can't even think of a word for. And you HAD to?” He sounds beyond annoyed, but she's grateful he's not boiling like before.

“HAHAHAHAHA, k-kind of–HA–”

“….You think that was funny?” his tone gets serious again. "You better pray that I never find that man".

"Well I know for a fact he's not coming back, which is why I took it" she childishly giggles.

Din stays silent. For a second, she prays he doesn't actually throw the whole chase out the window just to find that man as soon as possible now and vent his anger.

Suppressing her gasps for oxygen, she starts: “ohh come on, you predicted that I would be somewhere nicer after spending last night in a tree. You should've known what I was really after the whole time haaha- I I know you didn't see him show me the card but– I let you see me the whole time, how could I in Maker’s name ever–?”

“Doesn't matter if it was a means to an end, that was just….. way too hard to watch.”

A second of silence passes as her breathing finally slows.

“I'm sorry you had to hear it”, she breathes, sincerity rising in her tone. “But I wouldn't have wanted you to hang up, I missed your voice. … I swear, all I was thinking about was you the whole time, in my ear, I could barely keep up the conversation trying not to say your name. I only thought of you and how much I wanted you with me then.”

“……………..”

“-Y-you and t-the uh–room key—haHAHAHHAHAHHAH”

“I've met mercenaries less sadistic than you are right now.” His voice sounds flat, just in pure astonishment at how she is actually able to push it yet again. Another burst of laughter, and she falls back on the bed, gasping for air as she tries to regain her composure.“Well why don't you come give me what I deserve and lock me away already, hmmm? Bounty hunter?”

“That's one way to put it”, his voice sounding more humored at the thought, though clearly still trying to sound as upset as he can. “AHA-hahahaaaaahahaha…..”, her laughter fades finally from pure exhaustion, her abdomen now on fire from the extended flexing.

Note: and something like : "you know im not goint to let this go/forget this easily/make you pay for that"

"Haaaa, I'm counting on it." she sighs.

A few seconds pass as the tension settles with the time. “Give me your coordinates”. A tender, sweet tone seeping through the mic. She closes her eyes and exhales, “Ask me again tomorrow.” But then, instead of immediately responding, she just hears Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace she’s been able to keep over the past few days. She doesn't think it sounds like a run necessarily, she knows that his legs and strides are far longer than hers and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for her. She hears the rhythm of her demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in her both fears it and welcomes it.

“We’ll see,” he tells her, and then the red light vanishes and her earpiece clicks to silence.

She moves to place the comm on the charger at the bedside nightstand, at last able to put her mind to sleep along with her body.

Even though it takes her much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting night and not being used to flickering light when she tries to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, she’s eventually able to pass out. But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, she turns over and accidentally knocks her communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table.

It blinks with four percent battery life.

3 notes · View notes

kormenhq · 1 year

Text

Have some fic dialogue prompts

All of these prompts are from Pinterest and other tumblr posts. If you want to use any of these in your requests, just tell me which section and what number it is!

FLUFF PROMPTS

1. "I think I might be falling in love with you."

2. "Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day."

3. "Mmm... You're warm."

4. "You're so cute when you're half asleep like this."

5. "I've had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with."

6. "No, you can't get up! You're my prisoner for today."

7. “Your hair is really soft after you wash it.”

8. “Shh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”

9. “You smell really nice.”

10. “Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”

11. “If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you.”

12. “Here, let’s share the blanket.”

13. “You are my new pillow.”

14. “But I want to hear you sing.”

15. “We can talk over dinner.”

16. “Star-gazing was a good idea.”

17. “I think I love you.”

18. “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

19. “Shush and go back to bed.”

20. “How about a kiss?”

21. “I’ve missed this.”

22. “It’s too cold! Come back!”

23. “No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed.”

24. “C’mere, you can sit in my lap until I’m done working.”

25. “I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.”

26. "I wanted to see you again."

27. "I thought 'If I just follow the rules, everything's gonna be fine.' And then you came along and pushed me off that path."

28. "You never cease to amaze me."

29. "I have to hand it to you, you certainly know how to make a statement."

30. "I plan to get to know you."

31. "You have something in your hair, umm... Do you want me to get it out?"

32. "No, like... It's just, I can't believe you're actually wearing my clothes."

33. "Would it be too cliche if we matched clothes a little?"

34. "I really love holding you, darling."

35. "Wanna, like- I mean, if you're not busy... We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don't have a lot of time?"

FUNNY PROMPTS

1. “Where are you going?” “Hell, most likely.”

2. “Where’s your crazy boyfriend?” “Probably doing crazy things.”

3. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!” “And I’m trying to subtly avoid it!”

4. “Are you decent?” “Not morally, but I’m wearing pants, if that’s what you’re asking.”

5. “Why aren’t you dating him?” “Because I’d destroy him.” “He’d be into that.”

6. “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” “Yes.” “What if I just break his nose a little?”

7. “This is why we can’t have nice things.”

8. “You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?”

9. “Are you drunk?”

10. “Excuse me for freaking out, I only thought you were dead!”

11. “You’re gonna have to limp faster than that…”

12. “You whine about scratches but you don’t let out a peep when you’ve got a gaping wound! The hell is wrong with you?”

13. “I wouldn’t have done that if I knew you were hurt!”

14. “Is the fever getting to you or what?”

15. “Surprise! I’m back from the dead! Isn’t that exciting?”

16. “Can you hold this for me?” “No, I can’t. In case you didn’t know, not everybody has super strength.”

17. “I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”

18. “You think I’m dumb enough to fall for that stupid move?”

19. “It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion.”

20. “Go buy a personality.”

21. “Go to Hell.” “And leave you here all alone?”

22. “Are you sober?” “I’m moderately functional.” “I’ll take that as a no.”

23. “What do you know about it?” “More than you, apparently.”

24. “You’re not my favorite person today.” “I’m not your favorite person on any day.”

25. “You’re insane!” “I know! Isn’t it great?”

26. “Is it still murder if I give them a heads up?” “That’s called a threat.” “Damn.”

27. “You interrupt my reading once more, and this book will become a lethal weapon.”

28. “Kiss me, you twat.”

29. “Take my hand.” “No!” “Look, I’m not trying to ask you to marry me, I’m trying to save your life!”

30. “Just pretend to be my date.”

31. “They did it.” “No, they did.”

32. “It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling.”

33. “Shit, we’re gonna die.” “Now, I don’t wanna hear that negative attitude. Look on the bright side!” “Yay, we’re gonna die! Wooo!”

34. “If you do that again, I’ll throw you out that fucking window you- what are you doing?” “Checking how high the drop is, see if it’s worth it.”

35. "It's cute that you tried to protect me and all, but you're like a foot shorter than me, you know?"

36. "You can touch my hair, but don't mess it up!"

HURT/COMFORT PROMPTS

1. "Look, I know we don't know each other that well, but I'm still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone."

2. "If I could, I would kiss away all of your scars."

3. "It's not bad to cry. In fact, I think it makes a person stronger."

4. "Shhh, it was just a bad dream. Just a dream, okay? None of it was real."

5. “You know I’m/we’re always here for you, right?”

6. “Please talk to me about it.”

7. “Do the universe a favor: don’t hide your magic.”

8. “You’re trembling.”

9. “You’ve got to calm down before I can fix you up, okay?”

10. “I don’t know what’s wrong, okay? I’m just… really tired.”

11. “Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”

12. “No, no - it’s alright, come here.”

13. “I’m not going to leave you. You’re never going to have to suffer by yourself again, I promise.”

14. "There's nothing to be ashamed of."

15. "May I? Free of charge."

16. "If anything were to happen to you..."

17. "I thought I'd see how you were doing."

18. "I'll leave if you ask me to."

19. "You watch the people you care about age and die."

20. "When things get crazy, don't push me away."

21. "No, don't do that it's not safe."

22. "You're scared of that, aren't you?"

23. "I will always step in between you and something like that."

24. "Why? Because I don't want you to get hurt, that's why!"

25. "You can tell me whatever you want... Even if you don't have a reason to."

26. "Please stay. I'd like some company."

27. "Would you pet my hair?"

28. "I just want to be close to someone for a little bit. Is that okay?"

29. "Can I lay my head in your lap?"

30. "Here, lay down in my lap."

31. "You can't keep it all inside, you know? Bottling it up won't do any good."

21 notes · View notes

velidewrites · 2 years

Note

Ducklings for your Elucien drabble <3 (I was inspired by your profile pic)

Ducklings | Elucien Drabble

Word Count: 1.3k

Note: Thank you so much for sending this prompt @the-lonelybarricade ! As soon as I saw the word "ducklings" I knew this was exactly what Elucien needed. Hope you enjoy this shameless fluff! <3

“Lucien,” Elain pleaded, out of breath. “Tell me we’re at least getting close.”

He chuckled, his hand guiding her through the narrow path. “Patience, my lady. I promised you a nice day out, did I not?” he teased, earning an exasperated huff from the female.

It was a nice day indeed, as most days were in the Autumn Court. The trail he’d chosen for their little expedition had been somewhat challenging, at least according to Elain, who had clearly not been a fan of hiking uphill. Still, it offered some of the most incredible sights of the Autumn forests, with warm, golden sunlight peaking through the trees, their leaves laying out a path of amber, orange and maroon.

“Autumn Court truly is beautiful,” Elain admitted, still a little breathless.

He nodded. “It is. Though I can’t say I ever had the chance to truly enjoy it,” he added, a tinge of bitterness to his voice.

Elain scowled. “I hate that Eris is forcing you to come back here,” she confessed. “I don’t see why we need to honour Beron’s death, anyway. He was a bastard.”

Lucien felt the corners of his mouth twitch. “So ferocious,” he teased, letting his smile broaden at the sight of Elain’s cheeks flushing. “Don’t worry about me, Elain. This is just something I have to do,” he explained, though they both knew he hated the fact as much as she did.

She squeezed his hand in return. “I just wish…” she trailed off, then shook her head, clearly deciding not to elaborate. She did not need to.

“So do I,” he said quietly, his gaze softening upon her concerned features. “I suppose sometimes you have to let go of the past to keep up appearances, even if just for a moment. Besides, us being here sends a message—that the Night Court supports Eris as the new High Lord of Autumn.”

Elain grimaced at the words, prompting a small chuckle to escape him. “Well,” Lucien added. “He can be a real bastard too. But he’ll make a better ruler than my father ever was.”

She sighed in response. “Let’s hope that’s true.”

Lucien laughed once again. Taking the final step upward, he reached to toss away a branch, its leaves masking the view of their destination. “We’re here,” he announced, holding out his hand to help Elain up.

He felt her gasp beside him, taking in the beauty of what laid before them. The clearing was surrounded by tall, striking rock formations, all covered with moss ranging from light yellow to rich green. A small waterfall draped the rough stone, falling peacefully into a pond, glistening with the sun reflecting off its surface. Floating atop the pool, among the red leaves that must have fallen in earlier, was a small flock of ducks—seven little ducklings surrounding their mother, basking in the sunlight.

Elain’s hand travelled to her mouth, covering lips that had slightly parted in awe. Slowly approaching the pond, she kneeled by its edge, a small laugh escaping her at the sight of one of the ducklings eagerly chasing one of its siblings.

Lucien stood behind her, leaning against the bark of a tree, suddenly feeling all words leave his head. All he could do was stand there and admire the way her hair shone in rays of sunlight, how they warmed her soft skin with a delightful glow.

He had no idea how long he had stood there, but she had clearly noticed his absence, head turning over her shoulder as she patted the ground beside her, gesturing for him to sit.

Inches away from Elain, Lucien sprawled on the fresh soil, leaning back on his forearms. Seconds after, happy quacks began approaching them, as the ducklings swam closer to greet their new companions. He tilted his head, getting a closer look. Though all seven ducklings were equally small and fluffy, only the six of them shared a coating of different shades of brown. The last one of them glistened with bright, yellow feathers, and Elain beamed as it stepped out of the water, waddling towards her clumsily.

He watched as she laughed softly, picking up the duckling in her hands. “Hello there, little one,” she cooed, the duckling squealing with excitement. Her smile widened. “I think you’re my favourite.”

Lucien chuckled at the remark. “Now what do I have to do to get that sort of treatment?”

Elain smiled, her eyes still on the small, happy creature in her hands. “I’m afraid you’ve got some competition, my lord. This one is simply too cute and fluffy,” she informed, though a grin spread on her face as her gaze slid over to the other ducklings swimming in the crystal water. She turned to him with a playful gleam in her eyes. “Though if you’d like to try for my advances, you’re more than welcome to get in the water and splash around, too.”

Lucien grinned. “Only if you get in with me,” he offered, his eyes betraying his idea of playing wildly differed from Elain’s. Looking into them, she flushed with a shade of red that almost matched the colour of the Autumn leaves.

She pet the yellow duckling, the bird leaning its head onto her delicate fingers. With a gentle tap on its beak, Elain released it back into the water. The duckling immediately swam to its mother, small wings flapping with enthusiasm, splashing the water around it.

Elain closed her eyes in content, resting her head against Lucien’s shoulder. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He smiled, warmth spreading through him at her affectionate touch. “My mother used to bring me here when father was away. It didn’t happen very often, but I cherished those moments.”

Elain nodded, understanding coating her beautiful features. “I’m glad you were able to steal those moments of happiness, however small. I…” she swallowed, shaking her head. “My mother wasn’t as nurturing.”

Pain tugged on Lucien’s heart as he laced his fingers through hers. They sat in silence, unspoken understanding shining between them as they watched the ducklings circle their mother in a happy chase.

“Would you like to meet her?” Lucien asked.

Elain lifted her head to look at him in confusion. Lucien smiled, something like warmth glowing inside his chest as he reached to tuck away a loose string of hair behind her ear. “My mother.”

A small gasp escaped Elain’s breath.

“I know it hasn’t been that long since we’ve started getting to know each another as this. As…mates,” he said hesitantly, though Elain did not shudder. Instead, she consumed his every word, as if she was suffocating and he was feeding her fresh, invigorating air. Brown eyes watched him intently, and he couldn’t help but lean in closer. “But…I would really love it if she could meet you. Meet you and truly see you, see you the way I do.”

“And what do you see, Lucien?” Elain asked, her voice barely above a whisper. He could feel her soft breath on his lips, and it took everything in his power not to taste it.

“I see your warmth. Your kindness. Your passion for anything that can change the world for the better. The way your eyes sparkle when you watch the sunrise. That’s the true you, Elain. You bring light into the lives of those lucky enough to be part of yours.”

Tears gleamed in her beautiful, brown eyes as she nodded, their noses brushing against each other lightly. “Lucien,” she breathed, and their lips joined in a soft, unyielding promise.

When they broke apart, she rested her hand on his cheek, eyes gleaming with nothing but pure sunlight. “It would be an honour, Lucien.”

#y'all know i had to kill off beron #otherwise it wouldn't be fluff #had to throw in eris too OF COURSE #also i'm kinda obsessed with autumn court's aesthetic #thank you for this lovely prompt #ducks supremacy #elucien fic #elucien fanfiction #elucien fluff #elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #my writing #my asks

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