#Fic Drabble

[rapplesart]

Ok but like hear me out .

One of the dc crossover fanfics where Bruce adopts a kid (Danny phantom or Peter Parker iykyk) but instead of you know the bats finding them on the streets or having a whole hero cants and mouse thing or Barbara seeing them in the library they just go to the Wayne’s doorstep asking for money after being broke and having the idea in a half drunken state or joking about it .

Like for example Danny after being chased away from amity park and escaping his parents sits on the rooftop and talks with a gargoyles named Gary

„Yeah anyway that’s how I got here Gary, no clue what imma do know“ he says between another bite of pizza „like I’m pretty fucking broke and yeah maybe buying Pizza wasn’t the best investment in my situation but I was hungry I think I deserve a treat after all that .“

Gary stays silent as the two of them look over the city . Sirens echo in the distance, a few roofs in front of the, a black shadow appears between the gaps of the buildings, disappearing into the shadow just as fast as it appeared. Must be one of the bats Danny thinks .

He sets the piece of pizza back down into the carton in order to take a swig of the wine he stole from Vlads gift basket before his great escape. The man puts puts them on the counter for Mandy to find on a weekly basis now as part of his latest attempt to woo the woman. Jack adored the baskets when they first appeared, exited to have his best friend care about him and his wife.

Danny didn’t really plan on drinking it, he just brought it because it was the closest thing to grab. It was there so he took it . Now, sitting on the rooftop realising how fucked he truly was he decided he might as well be drunk for this too.

„And it’s not like any safe and sane workplace will take a random kid without paperwork. I probably need to do something illegal to go by now , Jazz would be so disappointed „ another swig from the wine .

It was fruity and dry and scratched his throat and Danny honestly didn’t enjoy the feeling but it made his wine just a little bit fizzier than before and it helped in a strange way.

Gary remained silent .

„sure there are a lot of Wayne foundations in Gotham that give out stuff , I did my research once I arrived after all, but they’d call cps and cps would either give me back to my parents or just straight up hand me over to the government so that is not an option „

Another bite of pizza . It was delicious a stark contrast to the wine

„It’s not like I can just go to Bruce Wayne and be like ‚yo got some money?‘ the guy would probably think I’m robbing him and call the cops and yeah, you get the gist of it Gary“

Another few beats of silence .

„But the dude is like crazy rich right? And he has his name on all of these foundations , and people say he’s an airhead so maybe I can just go to his house or something and ask for a donation. I mean it would be for a good cause , feeding a hungry homeless teenager is a good cause isn’t it ?“

„Yeah sounds like a pretty good cause Danny“ Damny answered himself as Gary by lowering his voice . The way one might get more into his head than he thought .

„You know what , I think imma just do this. Let’s just ask the rich guy for money he probably won’t even notice that he’s being scammed and if he does he probably has enough money nöt to care „

#danny fenton #danny phantom #batpham #dc x dp crossover #fanfic #fic writing #fic drabble #fic #drafts #batman

[vamp-stamp-fics]

Jet hates his face. He can't stand to look at it. He always looks away from mirrors when he's in the bathroom or ignores his reflection completely whenever he walks past water.

He doesn't believe he's ugly, no far from it. Jet knows he's not from the way girls smile shyly whenever he talks to them. The way they giggle with flustered faces whenever they're in his presence. Smellerbee always rolls her eyes whenever he indulges a little in flirting with girls whenever they pass in a town.

No, Jet hates his face because he looks just like his mother.

His beautiful, caring mother. The one that would always kiss him goodnight after telling him stories of spirits or star-crossed lovers. She was a hopeless romantic jet remembers that. His mother who would coddle him and rock her in his lap after he came home crying, another one of the village boys picking on him for how small he was. Jet used to be quite scrawny and weak if his freedom fighters could believe that.

His mother, the one that protected him from the seething hot flames the best she could the day the fire nation came to their village. while his father did his best to hold the soldiers off. And when he failed to do so, held jet tight to her as she told him to run as far as he could and to never look back. Even promising him she'd be right behind him.

He didn't keep the promise of not looking back as Jet heard the wailing screams of his mother dying. Tears blurring his view of her as the last thing he saw of her was her eyes. Only to see her killer on a Komodo Rhino in front of him with a hatred he'd never seen before.

So now jet covers mirrors. And if he can't do that, he breaks them. Letting the glass shatter as his fist covers in blood. Not only does jet hate that he looks like his mother, but he has the same hatred in his eyes as her killer. Hatred for the fire nation and what it did to him, to his own people and others.

And the thought of the only reminisce jet has left of his mother being tarnished by seeing her face with hatred in her eyes, would kill him sooner than what was to become of him in ba sing se.

#felt like making an angsty drabble about jet sorry yall 😐 #drabble #drabble fic #jet #jet atla #jet avatar #atla #atla fanfic #atla fic #netflix avatar #netflix atla #netflix avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender #avatar: tla #fic drabble #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics #smellerbee #longshot #longshot atla #atla zuko #atla toph #atla aang #katara atla #atla sokka #jet x reader #jetko #jetara

[nyoomerr]

A drabble about Bingge realizing his children’s beloved Head Imperial Tutor has the same soul as the ‘nice Shizun’ from that other world he once visited could be fun.

“Local man must compete with his own children for the attention of their very cute teacher!”

ahhh i love scenarios like this!! pitting bingge against his own kids is always so fun lol, hope you enjoy!

---

When Luo Binghe manages to find him, he isn’t even looking properly. He’s still spending his free time trying to find a way back into that weird mirror dimension, not scouring his world for anyone. After all, why would he look here? He already knows exactly where the Shen Qingqiu of his own world is; every bloody, rotten part of that body and soul is accounted for. Luo Binghe wants the other Shen Qingqiu, the one he’d gotten only a taste of, the one that had been so unfairly given to his doppelganger.

Perhaps, Luo Binghe thinks, watching through the doorway into the classroom his younger children use for self-study, he should have bothered to spend a bit more time looking at home before trying to force himself back into the mirror world.

“Ah, what are these tears?” One of the tutors is asking, tutting as if in disapproval even as he so gently wipes the face of one of Luo Binghe’s children. “You’re getting much better with your arithmetic, there’s no need to cry over a mistake now.”

The child hiccups, her little hands coming up to pull on the tutor’s robes, clearly trying to worm her way into his lap so she can wipe her face on his shoulder instead of on the perfectly fine handkerchief the tutor is trying to use.

Luo Binghe doesn’t even know which daughter of his that is. He doesn’t know who this tutor is, either, and yet -

The tutor raises his free hand up to pat soothingly at the child’s hair. He doesn’t try to unhook her hands from his robes, or stop her from shoving herself persistently closer to his person; he only pets her hair and wipes her face and tuts at her.

And yet somehow, Luo Binghe thinks, I’m sure that’s him.

It doesn’t make a great deal of sense to find this soul in a body unrelated to Shen Qingqiu, but at the same time it makes a whole world of sense to think of this kind teacher as someone entirely different from the cruel master Luo Binghe had grown up under.

Luo Binghe steps into the room properly, releasing the hold he’d been keeping on his qi to keep it held close to his body. The tutor looks up at the doorway, and frustratingly, the look of indulgence he’d been wearing just moments ago closes up. He stands and bows in unison with the other tutors in the room, and Luo Binghe flicks his hand dismissively so they know to ignore him and return to his duties.

The tutor - the kind Shizun’s soul - stands from his bow but does not immediately return to helping the girl he’d been working with. He only watches Luo Binghe a bit warily, clearly aware of Luo Binghe’s rapt attention on him, and continues to absently pat the hair of Luo Binghe’s daughter. The girl herself doesn’t seem to mind, as she’s managed to get close enough to the tutor to shove her face in his stomach and nuzzle in there, perfectly content and no longer crying. 

Well, no matter; if this man is already aware of Luo Binghe’s attention, no need to hide it further. Luo Binghe approaches without hesitation. 

“And what tutor has brought this Lord’s child to tears?” Luo Binghe asks after having reached the table that this tutor and child had been working at. He knows perfectly well that this man was not the cause of his daughter’s tears; he wants to know how he’ll respond anyway.

“This lowly one is Shen Yuan, my Lord,” Shen Yuan dutifully replies, and though he bows deeply he does not raise his hands from Luo Binghe’s daughter. “My most sincere apologies; I will accept punishment.”

Luo Binghe hums, satisfied. Good, he thinks, he’s already loyal to me. Very good.

Before he can say anything else, though, the girl buried in Shen Yuan’s robes shouts, “No!”

When Shen Yuan stands again, Luo Binghe can see his daughter peeking out, her face half turned away from Shen Yuan to glare up at Luo Binghe. 

“No?” Luo Binghe asks.

“No!” She shouts again. Her demonic huadian flares, and Luo Binghe raises his brows - this girl really dares issue such a threat to her father, knowing who her father is?

Shen Yuan, seeming to catch the very same thing, quickly moves the hand that had been in her hair to cover up her demonic huadian. This does not stop the girl herself from talking.

“If you try to punish Shen-ge, I’ll stab you!”

“Ah, wait -” Shen Yuan protests, pressing the girl further into him as if that will hide her away. He glances nervously at Luo Binghe, expression a bit pinched, and then -

“Who’s threatening Shen-ge?!” Comes a cry from across the room.

“Someone’s threatening Shen-ge?!”

“Lord Luo is threatening Shen-ge!!”

Suddenly, it seems like half the children in the room are gathered up in Shen Yuan’s robes, clinging to him and glaring at Luo Binghe as Shen Yuan frantically tries to soothe them with head pats and hushed whispers of Ah, don’t yell at him, anyone else is okay, but don’t yell at him!

Luo Binghe watches, amused and irritated and hungry all at once. Clearly, this Shen Yuan is already a treasure of his palace, and he hadn’t even known it - his own children have found this man before he himself did. 

Well, Luo Binghe thinks, watching Shen Yuan fluster more and more the longer Luo Binghe stays quietly watching the commotion, they may have him first, but I will be sure to have him last.

#ty for the prompt! #svsss #scum villain's self saving system #binggeyuan #bingyuan #fic drabble

[innerslumber]

Me imagining Deadpool abusing the TVA in his third movie to pop in on Steve Rogers during Endgame:

Wade: Hey so, I know you got this plan to go back to the past and stay there because the writers are hacks and they can't even keep their own lore intact but LISTEN, how about you hand me those stones and I'll take care of them for ya.

Steve: *staring bewilderedly at the man in Red and Black who just materialized out of thin air* Uh...do I know you?

Wade: Wade Wilson. HUGE fan. I can do this all day. I'm just a kid from Brooklyn. Til the end of the line. Although that last one isn't gonna be real honest if we let the writers ruin a decade of character development, right? *wriggling fingers* Now let me at them sparkly Josh Brolin Space Kidney Stones.

Steve: Look, I really shouldn't be surprised by anything at this point but this is really important and I can't just hand over-

Wade: You know what else is important? Making sure we keep giving Disney the middle finger despite our inability to stop sucking their tits for content because at the end of the day, we're all victims of capitalism. So just give me the fucking stones, Captain Sexy Ass and not ruin my motivation to finish writing the 300k slow burn best friend soul mate AU Stucky fic that I've been working on for two years. Capiche?

Steve: Uhh...

Wade: *picks up the case with the stones and gives finger guns at a confused Bucky* Buckaroo, just a reminder that the serum shortens refractory periods and Wakanda is reallll nice this time of the year for honeymoon destinations. *Large Obvious Wink*

Bucky: Uhh...

Wade: *random beeping from his toolbelt* Oh gotta go! Have fun! *disappears*

Sam: *giving Steve and Bucky the Stink Eye* How short is your refractory period?

Steve and Bucky: *redfaced*

Bruce: *sighs and walks off to go make a sandwich*

#this was pure crack and i have no regrets lol #deadpool #wade wilson #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #bruce banner #stucky #fic drabble #deadpool 3

[angelxd-3303]

To say that Nimona had made it an uphill battle for Ambrosius was a tragic understatement. Ever since she'd reappeared in true chaotic fashion, the 'Golden Boy' didn't think he'd ever received more dirty looks. With Nimona incessantly pressing herself between him and her 'boss', Ambrosius was left wondering if this was how others had seen him. Back before...yeah...

Even now, weeks later, Nimona was cuddled into Ballister's side while swatting Ambrosius with her tail. It was a scarlet whip like appendage with an arrowhead tip, and Bal grasped it to keep her from smacking him again. Nimona huffed, shifting into an otter and snuggling into Ballister's lap. The brunet ran his fingers through her fur, sighing deeply.

As annoying as it was to be pushed away from his boyfriend, Ambrosius had to admit that he was grateful for Nimona's protectiveness. The way she defended Bal, even when the whole world stood against him.

'Including me.' He thought bitterly, looking away. He and Ballister had talked about the whole thing, of course. They'd spent many days after the collapse of the wall sitting in Ambrosius' apartment crying and holding each other through choked apologies. Once it got out that Bal had been living in a broken down tower, Ambrosius had spared no expense in fixing it up so they could move in together. Since everything that happened, he wanted nothing more than to get out of the city. Now they sat in the newly renovated tower living room, scrolling through Netflix to wind down for the evening.

There were times where Ambrosius wondered if he'd ever regain the kind of relationship he had with Ballister before. Did he completely mess it all up?

"Hey, can you grab the popcorn Bambi?"

Ambrosius' breath caught in his throat. He hadn't heard that nickname since they were kids! He and Nimona both whipped around to stare at Ballister. The brunet was transfixed on the TV, clearly unaware of his slip-up. A fond smile spread across Ambrosius' face, and he stood up. As he walked around the back of the couch, Ambrosius placed a gentle kiss to Ballister's temple.

"Sure thing, Thumper."

Ambrosius strolled into the kitchen, chuckling at the rapid footsteps behind him. Nimona grabbed his arm, jerking him down to her level.

"What the hell?? Bambi?! Thumper?! Wha-?!" She sputtered. Ambrosius laughed, setting up the popcorn machine.

"Heh, yeah. Kind of an inside joke." He replied. Nimona gestured impatiently. Ambrosius smiled softly.

"Well, when we were kids, Bal had a hard time... pronouncing things. He didn't have access to a lot of the education that I did, and he kinda found other ways to say things."

"So he started calling you Bambi?"

"Well, it's easier than Ambrosius, right?" Nimona shrugged.

"I guess so." Ambrosius chuckled.

"The teachers at the Institute all thought it was so cute that no one corrected him. I gotta admit... it's nice to hear it again." Nimona tilted her head as Ambrosius leaned back against the counter.

"Yeah?" He nodded.

"I...I feel sometimes like everything I did to him has ruined our relationship. Like we'll never be as close as we were. I guess hearing it kinda..." He struggled to explain.

"Reminds you that the foundation is still there." Nimona finished. Ambrosius looked up at her, surprised. She raised a brow.

"What? I wasn't born yesterday. I'm older than both of you combined." She deadpanned. Ambrosius chuckled, pouring the popcorn into bowls.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." As they returned to the couch, Nimona leaned in to whisper:

"You know I'm never letting you live this down, right 'Bambi'?" Ambrosius gave her a fake look of annoyance, face splitting into a grin as they sat down.

If Ambrosius noticed that Nimona let him sit next to Ballister on the couch, he didn't say anything. Counting it as a victory, he pulled Bal into his arms and cuddled him close.

'I've got to be the luckiest man alive.' He thought, as Ballister melted into his arms just as he did before. Nimona leaned into his side with crossed arms, not without giving him a light smack with her tail.

#ambrosius goldenloin #ballister boldheart #ballister x ambrosius #Nimona #i.e. the golden retriever and the shark have a bonding moment #fic drabble #Ambrosius is a big puddle of guilt #I'm just imagining little Bal calling for “Bambi!” from across the schoolyard and his knight in shining armor coming to see what's happening #nimona is slowly learning to trust Ambrosius #she ain't making it easy for him tho #protective Nimona

[sparkle-fiend]

Fruity Four Advent Calendar, Day 21: “Midwinter Night”

When they come across the tree in Walmart, Eddie practically starts to vibrate with excitement. "We gotta get it, Steve, please. Please, please, please. I need that tree."

They're shopping for decorations for their first ever apartment together, and they do need a tree, but... "Why that one?" It's obviously artificial, 7 ft tall and solid white. 

"We never had space for a real tree, so Wayne got a little plastic one that fit on the coffee table. It looked just like this one." Eddie waves his hand at the tree in question, like a magician showing off a trick. "I loved that thing." 

Looking at his boyfriend's bright, hopeful face, Steve easily concedes. 

They add some ornaments, a string of rainbow-colored lights, and a tinsel star to complete the recreation of Eddie's childhood tree. 

Once it’s all set up, they stand back and admire the way the lights shine pink, blue, yellow, and green against the white branches. It does look pretty; plus, Steve’s father would hate it - which adds to the appeal. 

(Sometimes the flash of colored light makes his heart race, bringing to mind the memory of a charging demogorgon, or the burst of fireworks against melted flesh in the atrium of Starcourt mall - but Steve ignores it. It'll be fine.)

It is fine... until it's not.

***

Steve comes home, tired and feeling the start of a migraine. He heads through the living room toward the kitchen, intending to grab some water and a Tylenol - when the upstairs neighbor cuts on a vacuum. The muted roar doesn't sound much like a demogorgon, but with the Christmas lights twinkling nearby it's enough to trip something in Steve's weary brain.

He's not in their apartment anymore. He's in the dimly lit hallway of the Byers' house, the smell of gasoline burning in his nose. The lights are flashing, which means the monster is coming - but he doesn't have his bat. He fumbles around the coffee table, searching... it was just here a minute ago, right? His heart is pounding like a drum, pulse rushing loud enough to muffle the voice calling his name.

"Steve? Steve?!"

He can't tell if it's Nancy or Jonathan, but they sound frightened. "Hold on Nance!"

Warm hands grip him by the shoulders. "STEVE!!"

If he doesn't find that bat they're going to die, and it'll be his fault... all his fault... 

"Please baby, come back to me. It's okay - you're okay."

It's not Nancy or Jonathan. Not Robin or Dustin or Erica calling his name.

It's Eddie leaning over him, dark curls falling like a curtain over Steve's face. His cheek is smudged, and for a second Steve thinks it's blood. They're back in the Upside Down and Eddie is bleeding out under his hands...

"Steve," Eddie says softly. He's warm and healthy, wounds sealed into scars; and the smudge on his cheek is just sauce. 

Because he was in the kitchen cooking dinner. Steve can smell it now, sausage and tomato and garlic.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Eddie asks gently.

Steve tries to explain without mentioning the lights, but Eddie knows him too well. He asks just the right questions to work it all out, and the look of guilt that crosses his face hurts worse than a blow to the head. 

Eddie gets up and goes to the tree, yanking the plug from the wall and plunging the room into gloomy darkness. "Ed, you don't have to do that..."

"I do Steve, I absolutely do.”

Steve sighs. It's the night of the winter solstice - the longest, darkest night of the year. It'll be even darker with the tree stripped of lights. "At least wait until tomorrow."

Eddie pauses his task of carefully unwinding the light strands from the tree without disturbing the ornaments. "Come here." He tugs Steve off the floor and maneuvers him onto the sofa. 

"Lay down for a minute, okay? I got this." He fetches a cool cloth and a glass of water, along with the Tylenol Steve originally meant to find.

"What about dinner?"

"It's done. I'll just pop it in the fridge, and we can eat when you're feeling better."

Steve wants to protest, but the pain in his temples has escalated to a blinding pitch. He agrees to close his eyes for just a minute - drifting off to the sound of Eddie humming softly in the background.

He wakes to the same sound and assumes that only a few minutes have passed; until he sees the clock. "Two hours? Shit, you shouldn't have let me sleep so long!"

Eddie shrugs. "You needed it. Besides, I had to run an errand."

He leans behind the tree and plugs a cord into the outlet, filling the room with a soft yellow glow. Apparently, Eddie had replaced the lights while he slept.  Clear, simple bulbs - no frills or flashing patterns. "Are these okay? Be honest." 

Steve nods. It's not as pretty as it was before, but it's comforting; like the lamp he used to keep by his bed. 

Eddie reheats dinner and they eat it straight from the pot, so there won't be more dishes to worry over. The plan was to watch a movie, but Steve is still exhausted even after his nap - worn out by the headache and the panic attack; so they just cuddle together in front of the tree.

Curled against Eddie, head resting easy on his boyfriend’s shoulder, Steve says, “I'm sorry about the tree. It doesn't look like the one you had growing up anymore."

Eddie puts an arm around him and squeezes. "I like this better. We're making a new tradition."

#strangerthingsfestivefun #steddie #my art #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington/eddie munson #st fanart #fic drabble #my writing

[mikacrispy]

Katsuki is hit by a quirk: whenever he lays eyes on someone, the word that most represents his feelings or opinions for that person shows up on their chest.

Kirishima almost cries happy tears when Friend flashes in his chest. Iida wears the word President like a badge of honor. Aizawa doesn't say but having Mentor on his chest fills him with gouey feelings. All Might struggles to handle the Disappointment that shows up in him and Katsuki doesn't have it in him to explain the word.

But no one is as surprised as Izuku, who's chest is engraved with the word Mine.

#bakudeku #bkdk #drabble #fic drabble

[juvenile-arm]

Drawing I made based off your fic bro it ac got me in shambles I had to draw somethn before going night night but yeah @the-kr8tor

#spiderverse #fanart #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown #hobie fanart #atsv hobie #fic writing #fic drabble

[angelltheninth]

Can you use prompt 19 from that list you used for Gojo angst and write something for Shinuchi?

The blue haired hot murder man? You know I can.

Pairing: Shinuchi Tsugaru x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, one night stand, awkward meet-up, kissing, teasing, mention of boners, sexual tension, grinding

A/N: If anyone wants to know it's from this prompt list.

19. One Time Fling Complications

You'd had one night stands many times before, usually with men just passing by in town, never seeing them again. Shinuchi was one of those men, it was simple, just one night of mutual pleasure, he barely said his goodbye the next morning and it was fine. It was always fine.

"Shinuchi?" You couldn't mistake that face for anyone else, those breathtaking blue eyes, that smirk.

"Oh! Hey, uh... it's you..." He looked from side to side awkwardly, then down to at the ground, "Fancy meeting you here."

"I work here. I own here." You crossed your arms over your chest, which made his eyes dart to it. Yup, a year later he was still the same. "You don't remember me, do you?"

"I do! Just not your name. But you remembered mine. Been calling it every night since we saw each other I bet." He wiggled his eyebrows and leaned forward across the counter. You forgot how handsome he was up close. Your eyes darted across his face, down his blue mark. "Can my friend and I get a room here? No funny business this time. Promise."

"I am not your friend and I don't want to be subjected to the details of your past conquests." Aya cringed at the thought, at which Shinuchi rustled the cage a little.

You knew of his profession before, but the talking head was new. "You can have a room. But please don't cause a commotion this time."

"I'm afraid to ask." Shinuchi shook his head at the same time as Aya. So they were in sync. There was a story here for sure, but like Aya you were better off not knowing. Things were calm for the evening, thankfully. As you were getting ready for bed you heard a knock on your door.

It better not be him, but at this time of night it could only be... "Shinuchi."

"I... wanted to ask... what the fuck is this?" He help up the room bill, a pale look on his face.

"Your bill. Last time you left without paying." You leaned against the bedroom door, one side of your robe revealing your shoulder and part of your breast. "And now there are two people staying in the room."

"Aya is only a head and she doesn't even need a bed. Besides you seemed pretty happy when I left you last year. I considered my debt payed." He crossed the threshold and leaned in close, his eyes shamessly roaming your body, his body reacting to the memories of that night.

Despite not wanting to admit it you reacted too, closing your legs tighter, "Despite what you might think, your dick isn't payment enough."

"Sure about that missy? Why don't we give it another try. I can put in a lot of work." You didn't reject his kiss, you didn't stop him when he pulled you closer, nor did he stop you when you slipped his clothes off his shoulders, trailing the blue line with your finger.

His mouth was relentless in its attack, pushing against yours until your lips were swollen, licking and prying them open further with every roll of his hips against yours. But you had tricks up your sleeve too. You took his hand and pressed it between your legs letting him feel how wet you were for him, at the time you walked him back to the door. "Not until you pay up." You smirked and pushed him out, closing the door in his surprised face.

You'll have to use your fingers again tonight but it was worth it to get one up on Shinuchi. He'll pay up, and then you'll have him in your bed once again.

#undead murder farce #tsugaru shinuchi #shinuchi x reader #tsugaru shinuchi x reader #drabble #fic drabble #x female reader

[venbetta]

Night Light

Ven x Glam Freddy SFW Drabble (OC x Canon)

Beneath the cut

This tension was familiar to Ven, the way their blood froze at their heels as the heavy presence was upon them as they stood before their late master. His eyes probed her small frame, she remembered that horrible look he gave her when she spoiled the mission.

The clawed hand yanked her chin, and Ven gasped as her gaze was set on Ulysses, never having thought she would see him ever again. Not ever.

Despite their fear, Ven wriggled from his touch and recoiled, the demon stiffening from her defiance. The room shifted and flickered as Ven's legs pumped to escape from his deathly hold, Ulysses’ roaring for their return.

Not long after, his hard steps shook the ground beneath her as she ran through jello, slow and unwilling to move forward.

The corridor wobbled, and a door was barely in their grasp when a hand gagged them quiet.

A strained squeal uttered from her, kicking but met air. His piercing red glare tore through her, and just like his gaze, a dull searing pain gutted through her, Ven managed a horrible scream, clawing at his penetrated arm.

He struck her again, her torso bent and pulled, she could feel herself being split again, she expected to see gore but only for an inky substance to coat Ulysses’ forearm as he dug into her flesh. Flailing, Ven incoherently begged, even though there was no ounce of contrite in that demon's face…

Ven still had the robust to wail, only for the hall to close in on them. Or her own vision closing in, as she managed another shriek.

The air was dry in the room and Ven had become shrill, clambering upwards in a panic and grabbing for… something. She wasn't sure what. But a hard, yet warm pair of arms gathered her back and that baritone coaxed into her ears, melting away the cries.

“You are safe– you are fine...” He ushered, “I am here.”

Ven darted her eyes, seeking the demon that had her in the shadows of the space. I'm looking for those red dots that bored her. She fell to the foot of the bed, finding nothing but her and the mascot’s feet partially buried beneath the covers. The weight of the bed was heavy, that being due to having a large robot in the bed…

A rattling exhale leaves them, mimicking chills, but she was hardly cold. The room was dim, hardly lit by the moonlight leaking in through the shades, yet the artificial glow of Freddy's eyes created the effect of a night light. Something Ven never knew she needed again, believing them to be childish after having given them up for that reason… and most nights, she regretted getting rid of it.

“Everything is alright. Settle your breathing.” Freddy nudged into her temple, feeling her staggered breaths against his metal frame. The way her heart was racing, he would have believed she had run a marathon. Their body was still trembling.

“Breathe…”

Ven couldn't breathe, not properly, when her systems were overwhelmed with a terrible prickling sensation in her legs and a cramp seizing up her abdomen. Her eyes clamped shut, and she buried into Freddy's chest, trying to swallow any sound that left. Freddy felt her body flinch, and a wobble took over her throat. The imp shook as she unwounded in his arms.

“H…He kill– he killed me– he killed me a-again…” Ven gasped, in a horrible breathing state, “I was…he had me–”

Freddy wavered, “You are safe now. You are here.” Ven shook their head, but Freddy just held on.

He caught her instability, stroking her shoulders and lowering his palm to her navel. The pain was almost a phantom, Ven whirring from his touch, but Freddy didn't retract it. He kept it there. A soothing heat overtakes his palm, and he rests it there for her.

The room remained quiet with Ven weeping and gulping for air, Freddy's voice occasionally uttering solace. Eventually, Freddy rests Ven on top of his chest, letting them soak their tears against his metal exterior. His systems picked up her deescalating heart, and what was once a constantly thump became a legato beat. Sniffles were lessening, and ultimately, Ven became subdued…

“Do you want to talk about it?” Freddy asked gently, his voice vibrating his frame. Ven quietly shook their head, reduced to silence now. A sigh leaves him, resting his hand on her backside.

“I understand… When you wish to, I will be here to listen.”

Ven doesn't respond, only shifting to rest comfortably against him. Freddy noted the rise in her abdomen, unsure he wanted to mention this symptom; he recognized their cycle patterns, and it appeared that it was coming soon. Instead, he kept it to himself, not wanting to burden them with this right now. Their exhaustion was prevalent, and he just wanted them to rest.

“Let me know if this is comfortable, I do not mind moving if you aren't.”

After some shuffling and getting settled, Ven rested on their side, pressing their back to the bear's front. Freddy returned his hand to her navel, hoping to soothe the pain that haunted her. Before long, he heard deep, elongated breathing, and Ven was fast asleep.

All he could do was press into her tighter…

_________

#fic drabble #ven #glamrock freddy #oc x canon #sfw fic #fic writing #short fic #ven art

[unclekaz]

the fnaf movie motivated me to get back into writing the touch-starved springtrap fic draft and wow. i forgot just how genuinely fun it is to write for a passion instead of just doing it for english essays or just writing drabble for the sake of it. like yeah ik everyone has their fic tastes, but currently mine is 100% ""silent"" Y/Ns. like they speak to characters, but their lines are described throughout the fic inside flavor text, same with making Y/N less of a insert for the reader and more of their own character. like yes you share names but i think it's more impactful for a Y/N to feel detached yet faceless enough for someone to fit themselves inside!

also: excerpt from the fic so people can have a treat (:

#YES ITS SPRINGTRAP X Y/N SHUT UP #i'll never get over the ideas in my head #the lonely stoner seems to free his mind at night. #springtrap #fnaf #fnaf fandom #fnaf springtrap #five nights at freddy's #husband material #springtrap and deliah #fic drabble #springtrap x reader #springtrap fic

[nyoomerr]

Shen Yuan entered Luo Binghe’s life like any other good thing he’s ever had: with great difficulty, and accompanied by copious amounts of sex.

The difficult parts don’t bear talking about. Luo Binghe still feels his stomach drop at the reminders of those first few mercurial months of knowing Shen Yuan, at the way Shen Yuan had unintentionally dismantled most notions of what Luo Binghe thought a happy ending should be like. He doesn’t think he’ll ever quite enjoy thinking about that time: it had been, in some ways, a more miserable challenge to overcome than his time in the Abyss had been. 

(It had been, in many ways, the only challenge Luo Binghe had ever had to face that was directed inwards. There was no straightforward evil to banish or monster to slay. There was hardly even a wife to seduce, given the fact that Shen Yuan had let himself be seduced by Luo Binghe’s image long before Luo Binghe himself had ever arrived in Shen Yuan’s world to begin with. 

There was only this: in order to grasp the incandescent happiness that Shen Yuan presented - that Luo Binghe deserved - he had to admit that every moment of so-called happiness he had experienced for the last century had been a fool’s imitation of it. In order to be happy with Shen Yuan, he had to admit to being miserable without him. 

It was humiliating, and it was nauseating, and it had even made Luo Binghe cry once, where he thought Shen Yuan wouldn’t be able to see him. 

He’d been so, so glad when it turned out Shen Yuan wouldn’t even look away from that - from Luo Binghe at his least lovable.)

No, the difficult parts of Luo Binghe’s conquest of Shen Yuan are best kept carefully out of mind. The other, better parts of that conquest - the parts involving hot skin against skin, as close as Luo Binghe could get to fitting Shen Yuan within his own flesh where he could never part from him - those parts are far more pleasant to remember, and Luo Binghe works to make new memories of that sort every day. 

Despite its pleasantness, however, the sex is not Luo Binghe’s favorite part of his courtship with Shen Yuan. 

“Bing-ge,” Shen Yuan calls, voice just an octave shy of a proper whine, “surely we can spend summers in my world? You can’t really think this heat is more pleasant than modern AC, ah?”

Luo Binghe hums, leaning in to run his mouth across the plane of Shen Yuan’s neck, savoring the smell of Shen Yuan’s sweat. His skin is tacky from the heat; Luo Binghe briefly fantasizes about being able to stick himself to it permanently. 

“Wasn’t it Yuan-er who begged to see the Fire-Driven Herons’ migration? It only happens once every decade, after all.”

“I know that,” Shen Yuan says, scowling. “I was the one who told you that.”

“Yuan-er is the most knowledgeable about this world,” Luo Binghe agrees. 

Shen Yuan sighs, squirming half-heartedly in Luo Binghe’s lap - a wordless threat to get up. Obediently, Luo Binghe waves the fan in his free hand a bit quicker in Shen Yuan’s direction, threading delicate veins of qi into the generated wind to ensure it’s pleasantly cool. Satisfied, Shen Yuan settles back in, starting up one of his charming lectures about the fauna of Luo Binghe’s world. 

Luo Binghe listens more to the cadence of Shen Yuan’s voice than to the words themselves. He doesn’t often find it necessary to know the ecological features of a beast in order to slay it, or to capture it for Shen Yuan’s zoo, or to cook it into a proper meal. 

Still, this is what Luo Binghe likes best - what he likes even more than sex, which he’d thought to be his favorite activity from the ages of 17 to 132. 

Lounging on the ground, Shen Yuan sat snugly in his lap and held close by Luo Binghe’s free arm, allowing himself to be pet and cuddled as if it were a natural part of a trip to see some ugly birds migrate - 

Pressing his nose into the nape of Shen Yuan’s neck, left bare by Luo Binghe’s own hands that had been responsible for putting Shen Yuan’s hair up in its current complicated hairstyle - 

Idly fanning Shen Yuan to keep him cool even even while Luo Binghe himself is the greatest source of heat when pressed so close in the summer sun like this -

Over a century into his so-called happy ending, Luo Binghe has rediscovered his greatest pleasure to be physical affection of a non-sexual sort, and Shen Yuan gives it as freely as he breathes.

Oh, he fusses and complains and acts as if he must be coaxed into loving Luo Binghe, but it is such a poor act that Luo Binghe can’t help feeling nothing but warm indulgence towards it. 

“Don’t be so bold,” Shen Yuan will scold when Luo Binghe buys lube without hiding his identity, and yet in the next moment he’ll casually thread his fingers between Luo Binghe’s to hold his hand all the way through their walk down the main street of town.

“Who taught you to act like this, ah?!” Shen Yuan will complain when Luo Binghe ensures his subordinates know what an honor it is to be allowed to look at Shen Yuan, but then it will be Shen Yuan himself who will seat himself directly at Luo Binghe’s side instead of any more appropriate location for a Lord’s wife.

“There’s no need to be so sticky,” Shen Yuan will sigh when he catches Luo Binghe practically running back from the kitchens with breakfast, eager to return to his sweetheart’s side, but then Shen Yuan will happily eat from Luo Binghe’s own chopsticks, even during meals taken in the main dining hall.

Despite all his aired grievances, Shen Yuan himself breaks countless social boundaries a day without even blinking. He truly thinks nothing of it, believing these gifts he presses into Luo Binghe’s heart to be nothing but normal for a couple. Normal! As if Luo Binghe has not heard tavern songs about the Demon Emperor’s shameless new male wife, spun by every servant and enemy alike that has visited the palace and been struck to flustered embarrassment at the way Shen Yuan acts!

Luo Binghe wants to roll Shen Yuan up in one hand and eat him. He dared to say as much to Shen Yuan, once; Shen Yuan had merely rolled his eyes and told him that he wasn’t into “vore.”

(Luo Binghe had made a note to research this “vore” when they next returned to Shen Yuan’s world. He’s learned that he can coax Shen Yuan into a great many number of things, if he does it slowly and lovingly enough. The delay will give Luo Binghe time to figure out a way to both take Shen Yuan’s flesh and blood into his own without then being left without a Shen Yuan to hold in his arms.)

Certainly, some part of Luo Binghe knows this quirk in Shen Yuan’s behavior to be a byproduct of the world Luo Binghe had stolen him from. The standards for modesty are warped in that place, and Shen Yuan had been gently raised by the hand of that world to not notice anything odd about it. 

A god is no less sacred for having come from the heavens where more gods reside, though. Nor does a man feel faith to any of those supposed unseen gods when one presently sits in their lap, free to worship with prayer and touch alike. None of the other people of Shen Yuan’s world had offered Luo Binghe something so precious as the free flowing love that Shen Yuan shows him. None of them had been so foolish, and so sweet, and so carelessly thoughtful despite a cute mean streak hidden within, and -

“Bing-ge,” Shen Yuan calls, and Luo Binghe bites at Shen Yuan’s neck to prove he’s listening. Shen Yuan sighs. “Bing-ge, you aren’t listening to a word I say.”

“I am,” Luo Binghe says, “I just bit you to prove it.”

“Wha - how does that prove - oh, you’re hopeless!” Shen Yuan cries, squirming again, this time with a stronger intention.

Displeased, Luo Binghe casts aside the fan he’d been using to cool Shen Yuan, moving instead to curl both arms around Shen Yuan’s middle. When Shen Yuan keeps squirming, he trails one hand down to rub at Shen Yuan’s thigh, listening for Shen Yuan’s indignant protests. Luo Binghe may have grown drunk on the simple act of holding Shen Yuan without the need for it to be sexually pleasurable, but he isn’t above using sex to keep Shen Yuan close if he must. He refuses to give up even a millimeter of contact with this precious person unless there is no other option. 

“You’re insufferable,” Shen Yuan complains, slapping at Luo Binghe’s creeping hand several times. “We’ll miss the migration we came all this way to see if you keep this up!”

“I’ll miss Yuan-er’s closeness the most,” Luo Binghe says gravely, and Shen Yuan snorts.

“Insufferable,” he repeats, and then gives his most put-upon sigh. “Can’t you just settle for holding my hand for at least until the birds leave?”

Happily, Luo Binghe stops feeling Shen Yuan up and intertwines their hands instead. Shen Yuan praises him for his patience, as if the simple feeling of their palms pressed together isn’t more pleasurable than the greatest heights of ecstasy found in any bed. 

One day, Luo Binghe will confess this to Shen Yuan: that he’s truly deviated far too much from the erotic character Shen Yuan had read all about in that other world. That somehow, when it’s Shen Yuan, Luo Binghe feels so overwhelmed with simple affection that his greatest desires are as chaste as a young boy’s. Oh, he still enjoys the sex, but -

But ah, what he really loves most is this.

#i was rotating binggeyuan in my mind too much and accidentally wrote this. surprise! #might clean this up / extend it a bit and post it on ao3 after i finish my fth fic #svsss #binggeyuan #bingyuan #fic drabble

[angelxd-3303]

Nightmares were no stranger in the GoldenHeart household. Even if the Institute was gone, and with it the Director's influence, that didn't keep all three people from sometimes jerking awake after their dreams showed them their deepest fears. Ambrosius was haunted by visions of his lover lying in a pool of blood, arm nothing but a stump, while he's helpless to save him. Ballister is plagued by visions of the Queen's death, always left wondering if he could have saved her.

Nimona?

Nimona's nightmares consisted of Gloreth. It would start off happy, with her carrying an elated Gloreth on her back as a horse. Napping amongst the foliage and exploring the forest with her. Then, it would shift. Much like her.

"No, Gloreth, wait!"

"I'm not a monster, I promise!"

No matter what she pleaded, the dreams were always the same. A sword pointed at her heart. A gaze that bled uncertainty, ignorance, distrust…

"Go back to the shadows from whence you came." With that declaration, pain. Blinding, burning pain. Then…nothing. A vast expanse of nothing that left Nimona feeling hollow. Like someone had scraped out her insides with an ice cream scoop.

'Gloreth?'

'Boss?'

…

'Ballister?!'

….

"DAAAAAD!" The scream jolted Ballister and Ambrosius from a rare bout of restful sleep. Fast little footsteps thundered down the hall and both men jumped up. Bal ran to the door, throwing it open. There, standing in the hall, was a frantic and very confused…

"Nimona?" Bal inquired. He looked…younger. Smaller, with longer hair that was a darker red than usual. Big pink eyes looked up at him,and tears began to spill over as Nimona let out a wail. Ballister had her in his arm before he could think. He turned to Ambrosius, who stood in the doorway shocked.

"Grab my arm, Bambi." Ambrosius reached for him, before remembering what he meant and running back into the bedroom. Bal sighed, turning back to the panicked child in his grasp. Nimona clung to his nightshirt, hiccuping and sobbing.

"I'm not a monster, Daddy, I'm not!" She wailed. Ambrosius returned, helping Bal put on his arm. He stood, scooping Nimona up. As he cradled her to his chest, Ballister pressed their foreheads together.

"I know, Mona. I know. You're not a monster. I know, it's ok. You're ok." She threw her arms around his neck, still sobbing. Ambrosius came closer, petting her hair.

"It's ok, sweetheart." He murmured. "They're the monsters, for sending you away. What happened is not your fault, ok?" She peeked up at him from her hiding place in Ballister's shoulder, sniffling. Ambrosius wiped her tears with a smile. The trio migrated into Bal and Ambrosius' room, and the former sat legs crossed on the bed. He cradled Nimona close, letting her cry into his shirt. Finally, she seemed spent, and went limp against his chest. 

Ballister gently kissed the child's cheek, humming softly as he rocked. Nimona cuddled into his chest, sighing. Bal hummed sympathetically.

"Bad dreams, kiddo? That's no fun." Nimona shook her head with a sniffle. Ambrosius sat beside Ballister and brushed a strand of hair from Nimona's face. With a deep sigh, he guided his boyfriend to lay back down on the bed. The pair curled around Nimona, both holding her and soothing her whimpers with soft reassurances. Eventually, she fell asleep, and the tiny child was replaced by a stockier teen with a far more shaved hairstyle. The scared furrow of her brow remained, even in sleep. Ballister and Ambrosius made eye contact, and the blonde smirked.

"Dad, huh?" Ballister let out a breathless laugh.

"Not a word to her about this tomorrow, Ambrosius." He ordered, albeit quietly. Chuckling, Ambrosius leaned in and kissed his boyfriend. They snuggled into the soft pillows, soon following Nimona into a peaceful sleep. All the rest of that night, no nightmares plagued the GoldenHeart household. And if there were, they'd face all of them together.

#fic drabble #goldenheart #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #nimona #my poor genderfluid baby shark #Ballister is Nimona's dad prove me wrong #nevermind you can't #Ambrosius being a supportive himbo #*casually forgets his bf is an amputee #tw nightmares #gloreth was a manipulated child stop villainizing her

[fragilecapric0rnn]

LISTEN. I was ready to ride the Steve Becomes A Teacher train all the way home. It’s in my fics, it’s in my planned fics. But but but LISTEN. 

Steve becoming a first responder? 

A little bit post-S4, Steve is driving home to Hawkins after moving to Indy/Chicago/a major city that’s still within reasonable driving distance for him to come see the kids. Eddie is in the passenger seat and they’re zooming down the highway, one of those picture perfect moments where they’re singing along to a Madonna song, that Eddie was complaining about just moments ago. 

Steve, always striving to be the safest driver on the road, mostly because he is almost always transporting precious cargo in the form of his loved ones, isn’t the one who sees it at first. It isn’t until Eddie loudly gasps and points out a pretty horrific car accident unfolding before their eyes in the next lane over. 

Steve pulls off to the side, a fair distance behind wreck. One of the cars is turned completely around in the other direction, the front smashed in. The other cars are also damaged, but the passengers are getting out. No one has gotten out of the turned around car. 

Without a word, without questions from either of them, the two get out of the Beamer. Eddie goes up to the other cars, a woman who’s crying her eyes out and a young family all looking spooked out of their minds, but all seemingly alright. All of this is happening in Steve’s peripheral because he is now sprinting toward the car that no one has gotten out of. He sees the shape of the driver, head laid back on the headrest, unconscious. 

“Don’t move her!” “We need to wait for help!” Bystanders yell at him. Steve doesn’t respond, the driver door now open, as he checks the girl, who looks so young that mental images of one of his kids being in her place flash across his brain, tug at his heart. 

“Eddie!” He yells past the lump in his throat, but it looks like his boyfriend was already reading his mind, as he runs over with the first aid kit that’s always stationed in the trunk of his car. 

He finds her pulse as Eddie settles beside him. He’s checking for broken bones as the girl comes to. He’s telling her to sit back and that everything is okay as Eddie is yelling at the crowd forming around them to back up, he knows what he’s doing. 

Steve gets the flashlight out of the kit, shining it in her eyes, asking her what her name is, what day it is, who the president is, she hesitates to answer but answers all the questions. 

Eddie isn’t sure if this first aid knowledge is from all the times Steve’s been assessed after all the Upside Down shit or if it’s because of his own research, though he realizes as watches Steve keep the girl calm and gently keep her from moving around at all, it’s both. 

Eddie continues to watch when the ambulance gets to the scene. He watches Steve tell the EMTs that the girl is concussed and has no other visible injuries. He watches as they assess her themselves and as they ask Steve if he’s off duty, motioning to his extensive first aid kit. Steve just says he’s had his fair share of emergencies and he knows what he’s doing. 

After the ambulance leaves, Steve and Eddie walking back to their car, even though traffic is backed up all the way to their apartment it seems, Eddie can’t stop thinking about how easily Steve fit into the “hero” role. How, sure, it’s residual Savior Of The World shit, but can’t it also be more now that the world is saved? 

When they’re back on the road, hours later, and close to home, Eddie asks, 

“Have you ever thought about becoming a paramedic?” 

Steve doesn’t say anything. But he’s thinking. No, he hasn’t thought about it. But maybe he should start thinking about it. 

#fic drabble #EMT Steve? I can see it. It's all I can see actually #steddie headcanon #steve harrington #this might be silly but i couldn't stop thinking about it at work #we get a lot of EMTs in the AM and it got me THINKING #my writing #i wrote this speedy quick so sorry in advance for typos or generally being incoherent #first responder steve #sen writes #my fic

[mikacrispy]

"How many times do I have to die for you so you can believe I love you?"

Bakugou's question rings loudly, instantly silencing the conversations around. Class 2-A watches dumbfounded; none of them expected this to be the outcome of a simple interview. It seems that watching Deku tell reporters over and over that Dynamight was just doing his job as a hero during the war is getting harder for Bakugou to handle.

#bakudeku #fic drabble #bkdkbk #katsudeku