#i am in fact alive and well sorry for dipping for like *checks notes* half a year jesus christ

[cringefail-clown]

four kids and an ai play a game more at 10

#homestuck #turnabout au #homestuck turnabout #dirk strider #jane crocker #roxy lalonde #jake english #lil hal #hal strider #*crawls out of my depression(tm) hole* merry fucking christmas everyone #i am in fact alive and well sorry for dipping for like *checks notes* half a year jesus christ #i am very sorry

[lavandermin]

from sea of flowers, garden of eternity | xiao

pairing | xiao/reader

word count | 2k

genre | pwp, fluff, light angst, brief smut

note | glaze lily spirit reader, you are also in perpetual pain I’m sorry

“Xiao…” he hears your voice meekly call.

The adeptus is already on his feet before you can fully enter the room, his eyes quickly focused on you. He scans your body language diligently, looking for signs of pain or discomfort. It’s become a routine by now.

“Are you…?” His voice trails off when you shake your head apologetically. The slight strain in your smile doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m alright for now. The pains haven’t started yet. I think I’m set for another few hours, a day if I’m lucky,” you reassure him. “I just— wanted to check on you.”

Xiao gives you a blank look, one you recognize as confusion. “Check… on me…?”

“Just to see how you’re doing,” you clarify with a shy smile. As you make your way to sit on the bed, you gently pat the space next to you.

There’s a slight red upon his cheeks as he chooses to take up your invitation. The bed dips under his weight, and words do not need to be spoken to know both your minds drift briefly to past trysts that took place where you sit.

“I’m heading out to patrol the area in an hour. If you need anything at all, speak my name,” Xiao announces quietly. It’s a brief awkward silence as he rigidly sits next to you—tense almost. You answer him with a simple nod, hands absentmindedly rubbing little circles on your legs to ease the tingles of pain that slowly resurfaced.

Conversation was scarce the past few months you were placed into his watchful guard. The relationship you both harbored was a blurred line you tried not to think about too much for fear of over-complicating it.

And with your entire being, you could say you came to the unfortunate doom of falling in love with him. The emotional distance he kept oftentimes only confused you as much as your own emotions left him puzzled and a little flustered.

He kept you alive. That was the simplicity of the details Xiao was given. Perhaps it was a favor he was doing you, but he diligently carried it out with all the steadfastness of a contract bestowed onto him by the former Lord of Geo.

—

“I’m sure you are aware of the situation near Qingce Village,” Zhongli had brought up upon summoning Xiao several moons after the stirrings of a slumbering god.

Though the situation was previously dire, all was settled—Xiao knew this as a fact, for he was the one that swiftly took care of the aftermath of a dormant god’s power seeping through the earth. So, the battle hadn’t ended then…

“I was careless—“

Zhongli cut him off, carefully setting down his cup in its saucer. “On the contrary, this was in no way able to be foreseen by you. The world has a way of ending and raising new questions, just as easily as it provides answers to those who seek them.”

On the small garden table, Zhongli’s eyes trail to the glaze lily that sits in a small decorative vase. Unlike most, this lone flower is fully bloomed despite the time of day. It glows ever so slightly—weakly almost.

“You are aware that glaze lilies grow in the Qingce area, and there are a few wild outcroppings that shy away from prying eyes,” Zhongli starts.

His gloved finger reaches out to tenderly graze the petals, and at once the flower closes up. The petals take on a dullness, and visibly they start to wilt in small patches.

“The reasons are uncertain, but rumor spread around the village of a wandering ghost that followed the moon aimlessly. A spirit born of glaze lilies appeared after the battle that took place near there. It seems the power seeped deep into cracked earth among the flowerbeds.”

The young adeptus remained quiet, taking in the information. What exactly did this have to do with him, he wondered?

With a hint of apprehension, Xiao asks, “This spirit—has it taken on a malevolent nature?”

Instead of answering straight away, Zhongli wordlessly stands and makes his way back indoors. Xiao obediently follows, curious of the nature of this spirit.

“Nothing of the sort. However, these glaze lilies fell victim to the corruption of your karmic debt and at the same time were nurtured by immense adeptal power. There is a wavering balance that must be kept, for her body is as fragile as a flower’s and cannot withstand the depletion and shifts of adeptal energy.” With graceful steps, Zhongli stops before a door. “No other adeptus has successfully remained compatible with the energy she needs. So far it has only brought excruciating pain for her, and I fear she may die at this rate.”

With a silent nod, Xiao processes this information. His gloved hand is unmoving on the door handle.

“What are the terms of this contract,” Xiao silently asks, amber eyes trained on the door in front of him.

“My time has long passed to give you a new contract, Adeptus Xiao.” Zhongli chuckles fondly at the serious habits of the adeptus before him. “This is a choice I am giving you. It may take centuries for her body to adjust to the adeptal power she now harbors. If she is compatible with you, it is up to you to decide whether you supply her with your adeptal energy, otherwise she may not make it past next week.”

Xiao remains quiet for a brief moment before speaking softly, “Her body is tearing itself apart…”

“Correct.”

There’s something in that fact that stirs feelings Xiao isn’t used to in his chest. He accepts, and the first memory of you that adorns his mind is one that clenches his heart in a way he rarely experiences. The pain that twists and contorts your face as you desperately heave, body seemingly tearing itself apart in a way the naked eye cannot see.

You’re a beautiful tragedy born of moonlight and sweet soil. And in that moment when your eyes meet his, a single tear rolls down your cheek. He cannot fathom the thought of letting your life end as quickly as it began.

The door behind him clicks shut, and he takes your fragile life into his hands.

—

The lights of the house are dim—a subtle golden glow against a comforting darkness in the blanket of night. A meadow of glaze lilies surrounds the little cottage in a sea of fragrance. A prominent mark of your abode.

The little house defended by mountains is secluded, one which Zhongli sent to be made for you while your body stabilizes.

And though the exterior is tranquil, within its walls come soft pants and gasps. Xiao’s brows are knit together in concentration as he ruts against you.

“Please—Ah…nnh a–again,” you beg against your trembling body’s protests.

And he wordlessly complies, folding your legs until your knees are practically at the sides of your head. His hips pick up the pace and his thrusts become desperate, bodies covered in a sheen of sweat. The moans you let out are loud—obscene as he fills you up until you’re overflowing. The pains have long subsided, and you choose to let him overcompensate in giving you the energy that will get you by another few days.

In the serene calm of night, the tranquility is drowned out by the squelching sounds of your bodies meeting each other through desperate thrusts as both of you are sent over the edge. His name falls from your lips in a melody Xiao has grown addicted to. For the nth time that night you come undone beneath him, your essence stabilized.

There’s a swelling warmth in your chest that blooms like spring meadows as Xiao buries his face in the crook of your neck. The tips of his ears are a bright scarlet and though he tries to control it, he is still left a breathless mess as he rides out his orgasm.

“Is it…enough?” Xiao asks between pants, his cock still buried deep within you.

He’s still twitching within you and your entire body shudders with delight at the feeling.

“You… haah—can keep… going if you want,” you offer weakly. There’s a dazed look in your half-lidded eyes that makes Xiao’s chest squeeze. “‘M full but you’re still…”

Hard.

You glance down to where you two are still joined together, the view of his come leaking out of you shamelessly sending heat between your legs again. The tips of Xiao’s ears turn bright red though he tries to remain composed.

“I’ll be fine. You should get some rest to preserve the energy longer.”

He pulls out and ignores the way your eyes look away dejectedly. Before he can stand to go, your hand gently tugs him back down. Xiao allows himself to be pulled against you, his head resting in the valley of your naked chest.

“Stay with me for a bit?”

Xiao doesn’t answer right away, and your heart leaps when he lets out a little sigh and agrees.

“Alright.”

The minutes tick by in tranquil silence. Both tired bodies ignore the sticky feeling of sweat and sex. It’s a feeling you’re both quite used to by now.

“Xiao?” you start quietly after a while. He hums in response, your fingers running through his dark hair soothingly. “Can I kiss you?”

The question is soft, self-conscious almost with the fear of rejection. But you were beyond a breaking point. The feelings were welling up in your chest like a high tide as you felt him tense up at your question.

Sex was common—quite often as a means of easily transferring adeptal energy to you. And because it was a painful process to take in, you found that this method dulled the pain through the twisted pleasures and mixed sensations.

But that’s all it was— a means to keep you alive. You could never say there was a time Xiao kissed you and he always showed restraint in touching your body more than necessary. His bodily needs were never foremost on his mind and he would never tell you how his hands ached to roam your body, how this arrangement became an illusion of a different reality he couldn’t have. And so he locked away his emotions for his own sake.

Xiao lifted his face from your chest, his golden eyes wide with momentary confusion—perhaps even shock. And your face… those wonderful sparkling eyes that glistened with glossy tears on the brink of rolling down your face. He wished he wasn’t the reason you were crying.

In an instant he propped himself up on his forearms, feeling you lightly tremble beneath him from holding back the urge to cry. A quiet hiccup left you as you were overwhelmed by bottled up feelings all at once, his thumb gently brushing your tears away.

“Why?” was all he asked.

Though it was a genuine question, his actions remained tender and calmed the anxiety that gripped your naive heart.

“Because I love you—because I think I love you.”

Quietly you hiccuped beneath him and Xiao gently rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed.

“Then love me if it makes you happy,” he responds softly. The tears that twinkle down your face like falling stars are gently kissed away by his soft lips. “I’m with you until the day I die, and if loving me makes living less painful for you then use me as an anchor to reality.”

Your soft crying is hushed as Xiao presses a tender kiss to your lips. It’s short and just enough to bloom your heart with newfound emotions you had yet to experience. Perhaps you reminded the adeptus of himself in a simpler time—naive, innocent. For that, he took pity on you, and also fell deeply in love with you though he would not know it for a long time.

Simply put, he wouldn’t allow himself to know it.

The flowers that surround the small house glow and dance in the night breeze. They bloom with your newfound knowledge—heartache.

#adeptus xiao #xiao/reader #xiao x reader #zhongli #xiao just trying his best #genshin xiao #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #genshin #light smut #smut #pwp #fluff #drabble collection: ​coffee break for two #drabble #soft #the concept of this is hor knee I’m so sorry

[a-lonely-tatertot]

Kam and physical affection

Wow, anon you can't just give me this and expect me to not write an entire fic about it.

Just Keep Holding Me, Cause This Entire Time You’ve Been My Life Line

a/n: This is what I do instead of my school which I am currently behind in I hope you’re happy probably the fastest I've ever written and posted a fic so eyy, also unlocked spoilers

words: 1715

tw: nothing 

The first time it happened was an accident. The brush of knuckles that sent sparks of adrenaline through Tam’s arm. What the heck? he had thought. 

He had watched Keefe for a while now. How careless he was with his touch. He’d give Sophie hugs and friendly forehead kisses when she was tired. Sophie would lean into his touch. Fitz, Keefe would randomly throw over his shoulder when he was getting too uptight, too Vacker-ish. He bounce around till Fitz was giggling and weakly saying “stop stop” between gasps and everyone knew he really didn’t mean it. Biana he’d give piggyback rides, or catch her when she would dramatically pretend to swoon. They would dance around each other for fun, swinging, dipping, something they had done since they were kids and were not above showing off. When Dex was around Keefe’s arm was always around his shoulder, or he was giving cheek kisses and making Dex’s entire face seem on fire. Linh and Keefe would always greet each other with a hug and Linh lifting Keefe up off the ground for a second. Marella and him traded arm punches, fistbumps, high fives, whatever. Even Stina when she was in a good mood he would rest his head on her’s or link his arm through hers and drag her to some shiny thing he saw. Ever since Tam had known him Keefe was touch. But the one person he never touched was Tam, and Tam couldn’t explain how much he ached for it. 

When their knuckles brushed Tam tried to play it off. Tried to ignore the way his stomach flipped the way his arm buzzed. He just wasn’t used to it okay. But later that afternoon it happened again, and Tam caught Keefe’s gaze knowing he knew exactly what he was feeling. 

-

They were researching for the Neverseen and Tam and Keefe had ended up in the same time slot. Keefe was grabbing a book that was high up and was half climbing the bookcase when, as Tam had warned, he fell backward. Keefe grabbed wildly Tam’s arm and Tam gripped Keefe’s shirt. “Didn’t I tell you this would happen?” Tam scolded him when he caught his breath. 

“Yeah well I had to at least try,” Keefe said. Huffing Tam shook his head but didn’t say anything. Slowly he realized how close they were. How he was touching Keefe. How he couldn’t catch his breath because ancients why did Keefe have to look so good dissolved and grinning? He had probably been holding on for too long by then and he was trying to tell himself to let go but it wasn’t happening because Tam wanted the moment to last forever. But Keefe was noticing. “You can let go now Tammy, I’m not gonna fall over again,” Keefe laughed.

So Tam let go, ignoring how much he didn’t want to. They went to get the ladder and he banished the way he felt from his mind.

-

Keefe was out, Tam wasn’t. Everything in him was awake, screaming, replaying Keefe’s twisted face over and over as the shadowflux entered him. He hated every second. Please let him be okay, Tam begged. Please.

He was cradling Keefe’s head in his hands trying not to cry because that’s not what everyone needed. He needed to be strong, to get them out of there. Sophie said something, said she would get Keefe to Elwin, and all Tam could do was nod. And she was running and he was staring at a crime scene where he was the killer. 

-

Keefe was awake. Keefe was awake. And Tam was standing outside of Elwin’s door. To apologize? To see how he was? To make sure there was still some chance that Keefe would want him in his life? Honestly, Tam had no clue but he was here. Elwin answered the door and smiled softly in a way that tore Tam’s insides to pieces with guilt, before calling out to Keefe. Keefe showed up with a pad and paper and a grin that Tam didn’t know why it was directed at him. 

Shady McSilverbangs! Keefe’s messy handwriting wrote. Tam expected him to be mad, to not want to see him, to throw insults at him through paper. Not to greet him with a smile and a new nickname. 

Suddenly it was just the two of them, and suddenly Tam was getting dragged by his hand up stares to Keefe’s room where Keefe only gave him a second to breathe before he was crushing him in a hug. “Hi,” Tam whispered, arms hesitantly wrapping around Keefe. 

“Hi,” Keefe said so softly Tam thought he imagined it. 

“Everyone said I shouldn’t come, but I was just so scared you would hate me I’m so sorry-” Tam was cut off by Keefe squeezing him lightly.

“I don’t hate you. Not even for a second,” Keefe whispered. “I’ve never hated you.” All Tam could do was nod weakly into Keefe’s shoulder. 

They stayed like that for who knows how long until Keefe pulled away to show him around. They talked for hours, sometimes through paper, sometimes just speaking softly. When Tam went to leave finally, and the sun was starting to sink, Elwin came up to him. 

“I’m glad he talked to you, he’s barely talked at all.” Something like pride swelled up in Tam’s heart as he left.

-

It had been ten months. Ten months since Tam had saw Keefe’s face. He didn’t get a letter like Sophie and he honestly tried not to feel hurt but it didn’t work. Ten month’s later, in the middle of a fight with the Neverseen who, once again, trying to capture them he saw Keefe’s face. At first, he thought it was an illusion, maybe he was just too tired from fighting. Or maybe blood loss? He was bleeding. 

“HAHA SUCKERS THE CAVALRY HAS ARRIVED!” Keefe’s distinct voice shouted from the distance, and Tam couldn’t help but grin as the world seemed to pause in surprise. Someone, probably Fitz or Dex let out a whoop and everything started up again. He was fighting, metal clinks surrounded him, and he could taste copper in his mouth. He pushed and pushed surrounding the figure in front of him in tendrils but there were too many and he was surrounded. 

“Hey Shady looks like you could you some help,” Keefe called. 

“No shit get over here!” Tam called back. They fought on, somehow Keefe had learned to focus his power,  putting the Neverseen around him to sleep. “That’s useful,” Tam noted.

“Yeah. Hey,” Keefe spun around to face him and gripped his arm, “when this is over we need to talk.”

Tam couldn’t help the butterflies in his stomach. Apparently, ten months made everything worse, he cleared his throat, “Yes we definitely need to talk, but I think Sophie deserves an explanation more than me.”

“I’ve been sitting on this for ten months I can only wait so long Tam,” Keefe said something unnameable fulling his eyes for just a second, then he was off and something else was stealing Tam’s attention.

-

Everyone made it out alive, and the Neverseen was crippled in the process. So all and all it was one heck of a win for them. When it was all over and the Neverseen had retreated and Tam got himself out of his daze started to search for Keefe. He found Keefe getting dragged by the ear by Elwin who was happy and very very pissed and was making that very clear. 

It took about an hour for Elwin to get done yelling and checking everyone to make sure they were okay. As soon as Elwin said he was good to go Tam found himself getting dragged by Keefe back into the forest where they had fought. “You better not be trying to kill me,” Tam said acutely aware of how Keefe was holding his hand. Keefe let out a chuckle before turning to face him. 

“Uh no actually,” Keefe started and the first thing Tam noticed was that he was nervous. Why the heck was he nervous. “You know the first thing I noticed when I was in the Forbidden Cities? Well, other than the fact that ice cream is absolutely delicious. I noticed I missed you. I missed our banter, and I miss your smile that you do when you think no one is looking. The way you seemed too short circuit every time anyone seemed to show the smallest bit of affection for you. I even missed your bangs,” Keefe chuckled again and rubbed the back of his neck before continuing. “It took a lot of thinking and a new friend to tell me that I actually had a crush on you, which sent me full throttle into a sexuality crisis so that was fun. Apparently, humans have so many names for that stuff? Yeah well um, I guess what I’m saying is that-” he paused and Tam was thrown into a small rabbit hole of panic and wondering what he was saying. “Tam, I really like you, like ten months pinning and realizing I was so stupid leaving you type of I like you. And if you’d let me I’d really like to be your boyfriend.” Tam’s eyes widened as he tried to process everything. Keefe dropped Tam’s hand like it had burned him, “I mean unless I read everything wrong and you don’t feel like that I’m really sorry I shouldn’t have said that I’m going-”

Tam kissed him. Full throttle kissed him, their teeth clacked and his mouth hurt for a second but when Keefe kissed him back it didn’t matter. He grinned into the smile and let Keefe hoist him up and spin him around like some stupid human romance movie that Sophie had showed him. Not even the fact that their friends had seen them and started clapping and whooping and probably trading money could embarrass him. “So is that a yes?” Keefe asked softly when they stopped for a breath and leaned their foreheads together. 

“No,” he said in complete seriousness and watched as Keefe’s eyes widened. “Yes, it’s a yes you idiot!” 

Keefe let out a startled laugh before kissing him again and a new round of shouts rang out.

#oh my god wow #this took like an hour and a half? #yeah dam #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #tam song #keefe sencen #kam #kotlc tam #kotlc keefe #kotlc kam #tater writes #kotlc fic #kotlc fanfic

[woopboopboop]

Of promises

Note: Trigger warning!!! There is mention of suicide in this story. If you are uncomfortable, I suggest that it would be better to not proceed or you can proceed at you own discretion. 

Look who’s back at it again! This is one is kinda fluffy and angsty at the same time? I don’t quite know. I’ll let you be the judge. Happy reading, babes.

I am not going to lie. I think about you almost all the time. I think about you when I am at work too. It’s amusing how the thought of you keep on appearing in my mind no matter how focus I am on something else. As I listen intently to the added vocals blending in with the strumming of guitar and mellow bass sound of the latest track, I can’t help but think of the time when you peeked over the book you were reading and concentrating on the random strumming patterns that I was experimenting one evening. You seemed fixated to the melody even commented how good it sounds and that was when I knew it needs to be in one of my songs. I unconsciously shake my head, smiling at the thought.

“What are you smiling at?” Kid asks, approaching the mixing console where I am standing next to.

“Just – thinking of something,” I say, scratching an invisible itch behind my ear, smiling sheepishly.

“Your wife?” Kid raises his eyebrows at me before returning to tweak some knobs on the board.

I try to hide my growing smile but it doesn’t really work. “Yeah. My wife.”

I am used to the band, Jeff and everyone else teasing me but when it comes to you, boy oh boy, do they have newfound love for it. “Lovebirds”, “Head over heels”, “Totally smitten” are just some of the words they use to describe us. You know this, of course, because I share about the things that we talk about during studio breaks or even random things that we did inside or outside of studio. Sometimes, you join in on their teasing game. But I don’t mind at all. They make the butterflies in me come alive and I live for the feeling after all. They make me think of you and I love having you on my mind.

The clock is way past midnight when I reach home. After fumbling with the house key for a while, I finally gain entrance, kicking my boots to the side and setting both the house and car keys on the wall key hooks. With the guidance from the living room dim lighting, I walk towards the kitchen to get a glass of cold water. Opening up the fridge door, the light bathes a portion of the kitchen wall and floor in a soft, yellow hue. It is then that I remember you asked me to grab milk from the nearby shop. “If you don’t mind,” you added.

I curse under my breath not because I despise the domestic act but because I actually forgot about doing the exact thing and I only have the ability to remember it now. I have to admit that you are the one who is better in remembering things be it dates or appointments. As for the milk, I will get it tomorrow.

Carrying my heavy footsteps upstairs, I notice the beam of light from beneath the door signifying that you left the light on. I tiptoe to flick off the light switch after switching on the table lamp on your side. The room is in total darkness except for the light from your half illuminating the room dimly. We agreed that only the light from your side will be on when we are sleeping after I vividly recall you telling me that you are not a fan of sleeping in the dark. You tell me about things that scare you and things that make you happy afterwards a lot and I also share mine.

I sit down carefully on the bed and watch you sleep facing my side of the mattress. Haruki Murakami’s Men Without Women is lying face down on the bed just a few inches from your chest. Closing it, I put the book along with other collections of Murakami in the bedside drawer behind me. I can’t help but notice an unfamiliar book residing in the drawer, I guess you bought it recently to add on our reading list. Yes, our reading list. In fact, there a lot of our things in this house and for each passing day, there will always be some new addition. Just like when there is a new record added to the existing little tower of vinyl records in the study room, new set of rings on the vanity or even new mugs with minimalist design in the kitchen.

Every object in each room of this house is an embodiment of us, together or individually. Though, I have to say that your presence was stronger because when I step into a space, I feel you. I feel your presence now too but at times it feels like it is fading away before it comes again in a crashing wave. I remember the time we talked about this over a cup of coffee. On that day, we shared our most complex struggles through simple words and comforting gestures.

Like my eyes always do, they return to you. The soft light in the room highlights certain features on your face and it begins to darkened towards the part where you have your face buried in the pillow. A sudden rush of warmth creeps behind my neck, making its way to my ear. The electrifying and alluring feeling is still the same as the one that I felt when we shared our first kiss. In fact, every touch and small gestures exchanged between us, especially now, brings more intensified feelings. You look so peaceful, frozen in time, except for your eyes darting back and forth behind your shut eyelids and the rising and falling of your breathing.

Your hair is everywhere with some strands falling on your upper arm, hiding two scars located at the same place which can hardly be seen. You always try to hide the scar, not liking the reasons behind it but I always tell you that things happened for a reason and that I will always love you and promise that I will be by your side if you need me. There is a scoff of disbelief on your face at first before your eyes soften and thank me for willing to be by your side. I love kissing the scar just as a reminder that I love you. I love kissing it without any reasons too. It has a slightly different colour from the rest of the skin on your body where I love to leave kisses as well. Hell, I just love to kiss you. No question asked. But I love to see you like this too, so I refrain myself from waking you up.

You shift for a bit in your sleep and a strand of hair falls down across your face. As if it is a reflex action, I move the strand away and tuck it behind your ear. My finger caresses the shell of your ear and you jaw with the slightest pressure. I notice your eyes fluttering, as if they want to open or maybe you are just dreaming.

“Hey,” you mumble when you gaze is focusing on me.

“Hey.”

We bask in silence for quite a while and I thought that you go right back to sleep but then I hear you asking me, “What?”

“Nothing. Just watching you.”

You squint your eyes and pull the duvet to cover half of your face, “Creep.”

“But you love it.” I stick my tongue out and you pull the duvet until it’s not covering you face anymore, sticking your tongue back at me. My lips find their way to your forehead, leaving a soft kiss before I disappear to the bathroom to change.

Coming back, I see you starting to fall asleep again. I smile and breathe in your presence for a moment before joining you on the mattress. Your eyes are fluttering open again as I caress your chin with my thumb and forefinger. My thumb stops at your cheekbone and I whispered a quite sorry. You shake you head and lean closer to me. We exchange long and gentle kisses, fingers wandering to every place that they can reach. And we don’t stop until both of us run out of breath. I don’t want to stop. Ever. Not when your fingers are tugging my hair slightly and mine resting on the nape of your neck to deepen our kiss.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, worried lines shadowing on your face.

I prop myself up on one elbow and carefully lay out the words. “It’s about the trip.”

You look more aware than anything at this moment, bottom lip pouting a bit, “I’m not going to like this, huh?”

“I’m so sorry, love. I’ve checked the date, I swear, but unfortunately it clashes with some promotions stuff that’s going to happen. The team and I confirmed the date and we can’t move it to another time.” I look into your eyes, hoping that I am not letting you down too much. You have been very excited for the trip, talking endlessly about it.

“Babe?” I call out and see your eyes regain their focus and concentrate on mine. Head falling deeper into your pillow, you hum, asking me to repeat whatever was said.  

“The date for the trip clashes with my work. I’m so sorry. Really.”

“It’s okay. I understand,” you whisper, drawing circles on the back of my hand. “When can we go then?” It sounds more like curiosity than anything else.

Leaning down, I kiss your nose and you scrunch up your face, giggling softly. “In three weeks time. I promise.”

“H, you are promising a lot of things. Don’t think I’ll forget all of them.” I know you are serious beneath the joking tone of your voice. I lay back on the mattress, reaching over to snuggle into the dip of your neck. The faint scent of chamomile lingers in the air where I am hiding. After sponging few kisses on your neck and holding you close, I loosen my grip and move away from the crook of your neck. My eyes move from looking at you lips, to your nose and finally setting on your eyes.

“I intend to fulfil each and every one of them. You are stuck with me for a long time. Don’t think you’ll forget about that too?” You nod your head and both of us giggle. When the giggling stop, we are left with gazing into each other's eyes, as if we are looking for something. I found something behind yours, despite the dim light trying to hide away whatever it is in the shadow.

“You okay there?”

“Yeah.” I feel the little space between us closing in and our lips brush each other. You are no longer sleepy and I am no longer tired.

 A single sun ray wakes me up in the morning. I jump up, panic at first but then it dawns on me that I have today off. Your side of mattress is empty. I roll over and bury my face on your pillow, smelling in the chamomile scent.

I lift my head when I hear the sound of water running from the bathroom. Bare naked, I cross the room in a number of strides and is reminded about last night when I encounter our clothes mingling together in a messy heap on the floor. I blush thinking about it as if it is our first. I knock on the bathroom door, calling out your name. Silence. I turn the knob slowly and push the door open expecting that you will be standing under the shower, asking me to join you there.

I am about to greet you good morning but see that there’s no one in the shower but the marble tiles staring back. As I lower down my vision, I find you slumping against the glass door. An angry stream making its way from your wrist down the drain, a huge contrast from your skin colour. Suddenly, I don’t know what to do. I am panicking. I rush over your limb body, wrapping the wound with whatever that I could find at the time. I pick you up and get you in a purple robe before I grab the clothes from last night and put it on. You feel so light and so heavy at the same time in my arms as I carry you to my car.

I fumble with the key in my hand. I don’t even know if I have locked the front door or not. I keep on calling your name as if it is a chant that can get you to magically wake up. All of this while trying to stay sane when in actual reality the world feels like it is slipping from my grasp. I wish that you reply my calling with any incoherent sentence or even garbled sounds. But you don’t answer. You don’t wake up.

When reaching hospital, I can only vision what a sight we are to those waiting there. “Please, help me!” I call out to no specific person. Everything just goes by so quickly and in a blur as the nurses push your bed towards the emergency room. Why aren’t you finishing my words when I try my best to explain what happened to the doctor? Why aren’t you opening your eyes when the doctor barks command to the nurses? Why aren’t you struggling when they put on the bed? Why aren’t you here to comment how ridiculous I must have look with my damp, wrinkled, half unbuttoned shirt? I don’t even notice the bloody patches on my shirt if I don’t button it up.

I stay out of everyone’s way and lean against the pillar near the entrance. A woman approaches me and pass me a document that I need to fill. I make a beeline for the counter so that I have a flat surface to write the paper on. As I fill in the paper, the nurse presses me for any information and I answer as best as I could but then I keep on thinking of you. I think about the milk that I forgot to buy. I think about the trip that I postponed last night. I think about the upcoming tour and that I promised you will stay longer with me this time. I think about all of the promises made, waiting to be fulfilled over our happily ever after.

“Have you call her family?” asks the same nurse. I must have look so distraught trying to fill the blank spaces and answer her questions. I stare at her for a moment to process her question. I want to say to her that I am your family. She is about to repeat the question when I shake my head.

“Call them. Let them know what’s happening.” She waits a couple of minutes until I finish filling up the paperwork. The waiting room is filled with a lot of noises given the works that are going on here but I feel so alone. The worst of thoughts come creeping in and start becoming louder each passing minute. I snap back and remember that I need to inform mum and your mother about the situation. Mum is very much heartbroken over the phone when I tell her about what is going on. It’s a bit funny that I am the one who consoles her instead of the other way around. I can’t blame her though. She loves you so much that she regards you as her second daughter.

 I don’t know whether I prefer to be with family and friends at the moment or to be alone. The clock ticks slowly while things around me are moving at a normal speed. I feel a hand on my shoulder. Turning around, Mitch stands behind me and Sarah besides him. She hugs me without saying any words and Mitch offers me a weak smile.

“She’s going to be all right,” they assure me. I don’t know what else to say so I thank them.

Almost all of our close friends are here, waiting for any news from the doctor or nurses. I don’t dare to pay attention to their presence and kindness because I may break down and cry. That is the last thing that I need in this situation. “What is taking them so long,” I mutter, pacing back and forth, occasionally running my fingers through my hair. Sometimes they interlace with the curls for a while as I try to remain calm, taking deep breaths here and there. I need to be strong for both of us.

More people arrive and then I hear a familiar voice. Mum’s. Standing up, I greet her, Gemma as well as your mother with a hug. Your family is here too. I recount what happened to them and I can’t help but choke on few words as I feel the tears threatening to spill. They look so worried, afraid even, especially your mother since she knows you well enough to know that there are times when it can be so hard for you. And I am worried and afraid too.

In the midst of things happening, Mum finds her way to mother me, “Have you eaten?” Her question reminds me that you would do the same too. Regardless what the situation is. Trust me.

I get up from my seat and walk as fast as I can to the toilet. Finding the nearest toilet bowl, I vomit. I would think that there is nothing left inside of me after seeing you slumped in the shower this morning but I keep on vomiting until the only thing left is the bitter taste in my mouth. My knees buckle against the cold tiles. I feel a hand running up and down my back and see mum kneeling besides me. She holds me so tight, afraid that if she let go, I will break into tiny pieces.

“Everything’s fine. She’s going to be fine.” Her voice soft and soothing.

“No. She’s not.” I let out a sob, both hands fling to my face, covering my eyes, pressing hard against them. I don’t know if admitting it to myself or saying it out loud is harder.

I try not to cave into the heavy feelings but it is a total failure when the thought of being able to stop you is more overpowering. “She’s barely breathing when I found her. I call out for her but she didn’t respond at all. God knows, how long she had been there before I found her.  I should’ve been there. I should’ve noticed it earlier when she looked a bit different last night. I should have known. This is my – ”

“Harry, do you love her?” She holds my face between her hands.

I nod, wiping stray tears falling down my cheeks. I am crying again.

“Sometimes, no matter what you do, you can’t protect the people who you love all the time. Things that happened to them is out of your hands. At times like this, the only thing that you can do is pray for them. Pray for her. Continue to love her. That’s all that you can ask of yourself. Things happen for a reason.”

She let go of her hands that cradles my face and hold my hands instead. The words sound weird when you are on the receiving end. Things happen for a reason. I always say that to you and it makes me think if you ever feel the same way as I did when I heard the words. Sadly, it doesn’t really bring comfort. It only leaves you in wonder of what is the reason behind all of this and what did I do to deserve such thing.

Friends and family sit patiently in the waiting room. It feels like an eternity waiting to be allowed in the same room as yours. The doctor approaches me to further inform the state that you are in and to be honest, after he says that you are in a stable condition, I am in and out of the conversation. I just need to see you on my own to believe that you are totally okay.

I sit beside you quietly and hold your hand gently. I don’t want to risk waking you up since the doctor told me that you need the rest. Your hand is cold as I hold it with my own. The fingers of my other hand touch your securely bandaged wrist. If you were to be awake, I guess you will make fun of my matching red nose, cheeks and eyes. I smile thinking about it. Carefully, I bring your bandaged hand to my cheek, then littering feathery kisses on your knuckles. I then nestle your hand onto the sheet but not letting go of our intertwined hands. I love holding your hands too. I love how we pass secret message by squeezing each other hands when we are in public. I love it more now that I can see both of our wedding bands adorning our fingers when we hold hands.

Watching you in this state, the only thing that I want more than anything is for you to wake up. I want to see the colour in your eyes again. I want to hold your hands firmly and not letting go. I want to feel your presence in this space. I am willing to do anything and everything just to get you to say my name. My mind drifts to the conversations that we had last night and I remember you teasing me about the promises that I made. I know I have a bad track record of keeping my promises but just know that I meant it when I say I want to fulfil them. The only thing that I need right now is for you to wake up and you will see that I am here as promised.

#writings #Harry Styles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shots #harry styles one shot #one direction #one direction imagines #one direction imagine #one direction preference #one direction preferences

[razorblade180]

Sunshower

[Menagerie]

It’s as busy as its ever been. The streets are bustling more than usual as vendors and civilians alike decorate the island with the symbol of the Belladonnas on flags. A celebration is gonna begin; one that will last indefinitely. If there’s one thing Menagerie is known for it is parties. This one is bound to be the biggest one since.....

Kali:Come on everyone, double time! Blake could come home any minute!

Ghira:Khali please don’t yell at anyone. They’re doing all of this of their own free will after all.

Kali:Well that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t put forth their best effort. *pouting* They need to have the same enthusiasm as Ilia.

As quickly as her name was uttered was as fast as she could be seen. Palm tree to palm tree she’s dashing at a speed that would make Ruby jealous. In her arms are wires of flags she’s precisely pinning with each tree jump.

Ilia:I’m running low on flags! Neptune, hook me up!!!

Neptune:*raises a box* A hundred flags right here!

Ilia*grabs it midair* Thank you!

Kali:Thank you for your help too a Neptune. It’s greatly appreciated.

Neptune:Pleasure is all mine. Not everyday a human gets to set foot in this place. I feel super... *looks around* fortunate.

Ghira:Young man I do hope you behave yourself. We’ve been informed of your.....reputation. It would be a shame if the faunus around here got worse opinions of humans.

Neptune:Yes sir. I wouldn’t be much of best friend if I ruined things around here; right Sun? *throws up a box*

Sun:Got that right! *catches box from a tree* thanks dude!

The young man might not have White Fang training but he’s a monkey faunus through and through. Jumping from the trees couldn’t be more natural; not one flag is out of place that he places.

Sun:*bouncing frantically* Woohoo! I should do this for a living!

Ilia:*keeping up* Geez can you be a little serious here? If any of your flags banners come undone I’m not fixing them.

Sun:Aw don’t be like that. I’d fix yours; then again it wouldn’t take as long.

Ilia:What’s that suppose mean?

Sun:Nothing, just that you’re moving incredibly slow.

Ilia:Slow!? Last time I checked you could barely keep up with me when we first met.

Sun:Pfft home field advantage. Now that I know this place I could lap you faster than you can change colors.

Ilia:That sounds like a challenge. First to pin a hundred more flags gets to greet Blake home first.

Sun:As long as the loser gets to stand there and watch.

Ilia:Oh you got yourself a deal!

Sun:Don’t be grumpy when she wants a kiss after a long year of saving the world!

Ilia:Like she would want to kiss you banana breath. Time to put your skills to the test.

Sun and Ilia:Neptune!!!!

Neptune:Yeah yeah...*tosses boxes up and watches them get whisked off* I swear those two.....

Ghira:My money is on Ilia.

Kali:Nah, Sun has this in the bag. If not then I’ll be less hard on the workers.

Ghira:Deal.....

Neptune:(These two aren’t much better. How did Blake end up calm with people like this her whole life?)

Both Faunus race at breakneck speed; not giving up an inch of progress. People who didn’t know any better would mistake the acrobatics for a routine instead of a romantic rivalry showdown.

Sun:45.....46.....47

Ilia:48......49......50

Neptune:*whistles* Look at them go. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sun move that fast.

Ilia:75....76.....77

Sun:78....79.....80

Ilia:You look tired! Maybe you should give up?

Sun:I’m fine, you’re the one who should be-

Ilia:*sticks leg out* Ooops.....

Sun:*trips* Ilia!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ilia:Ha! All is fair in love in war. 93....94....95.....huh?

Three clones dart pass her with the remaining flags he had left. Before she could process what was happening the flags were wrapped across the trees in her sight. The clones then landed at the base of the final tree where Sun was.standing smugly.

Kali:Woo! Alright everybody double time!

Workers:*groaning*

Sun:Boom, a hundred done. Oooo want me to take two from you? I see you still have some left.

Ilia:Your semblance is annoying....

Sun:So is getting tripped, but all is fair in love and war right? *sticks tongue out*

Ilia:*rolls eyes* I may have deserved that.

Neptune:*throws his arms around them* Good job you two. Everything is basically done now and not a moment too soon. *points to the sea*

A giant ship is approaching with an all too familiar captain on board.

Khali:I bet you I know who’s on board.

Sun:To the docks! *runs off*

Ilia:Don’t run! There’s people everywhere. *chases after him*

Neptune:She says as she runs after him. *starts walking*

Ilia:Do you ever slow down.

Sun:Of course I do. Today I’m just extra pumped, don’t act you’re not.

Ilia:I’m not as excited as you are.

Sun:So what are your freckles pink?

Ilia:What!? *checks her arms* how long have I been like this!?

Sun:The whole time. You should really keep an eye on that.

Ilia:*changes back* Noted, you should also pay attention to where you’re going instead of looking at me.

Sun:I told you I know this place like the back of my- *pulled back by his tail* Hey that hur-

Ilia:You rather take a dip in the ocean?

Sun:*realizes he’s on the dock edge* Oh.....we’re here. That was fast.

Neptune:*few feet away* That’s what happens when you sprint!

Ilia:Oh you showed up too....

Neptune:Aw don’t be like that. I thought we were getting along. *smiles*

Ilia:Half the time. The other is still trying to tolerate you.

Neptune:What side would that be?

Ilia:*rainbow colored* Did you even have to ask?

Neptune:Fair point.

Sun:Both of you hush! She’s coming.

Ilia:You’ve gone this long without seeing her. A few more minutes won’t kill you.

Sun:You’re just saying that because you lost the challenge.

Ilia:*squints* whatever...like she’s actually gonna kiss you.

Sun:A guy can dream can’t he? Blake and I have something special and I’m sure she’s been- *Neptune turns his head to the boat*

The boat had gotten significantly closer during their brief chat. Blake was seen clear as day now waving at them from the ship, but she wasn’t alone. Bye her side was Yang, just Yang. No other members of the team in sight which could be easily dismissed as they’re on the other side. What couldn’t be dismissed however the two of them holding hands, fingers interlocked. They looked really happy as they waved. Sun didn’t realize that he zoned out and Ilia’s skin started turning gray.

Neptune:Guys?

...........

Neptune:Guys look alive.

Ilia:*color coming back* Huh? Oh...right. Sun are you oka-?

Sun:*makes a clone to toss him to the boat* Can I get a hand here kitty cat!?

Blake:*lassos his arm and pulls him up* Hey Sun! *hugs him*

Sun:Long time no see you two.

Yang:Well that’s what happens when you go off to save the world.

Sun:How’d that go for you?

Yang:There was challenges but we had each other so everything worked out. *snakes hand around Blake’s waist*

Sun:Heh, glad to hear it. *smiles*

Neptune:Poor guy....

Ilia:He seems to be taking it well.

Neptune:You’ve hung out for him how long now and you honestly believe that?

Ilia:*watching closely*......

His tail isn’t moving, but not in an idle way. It’s stiff like he’s tensing it. As she keeps watching he’s purposely not looking at Yang for long and keeps smiling. Not his normal goofy smile, it almost looks like his cheek bones look like they’re giving it all they got. It’s almost sad, frustrating in a way. Is that what he’s feeling?

Ilia:He’s not taking this well at all.

Neptune:Not one bit.

*boat docks*

Blake:Hey you two! *Jumps down and hugs them*

Ilia:Wow, when did you become a hugger?

Blake:How else am I supposed to show how much I mess you?

Ilia:(I could think of a few) Cash... I could always use that.

Yang:*chuckles* She reminds me of Ruby.

Ilia:*holds out hand* Hi I don’t think we’ve ever actually met. I’m Ilia, Blake’s friend.

Yang:*shakes her hand* I’m Yang, her girlfriend.

Ilia:Is that right? Well you got a good one, Blake is great. *smiles*

Yang:Don’t I know it?

Neptune:Where’s Weiss and the others?

Yang:Sorry lover boy. Everyone else finally went home. I’m only here because Blake wanted me to meet her parents. Hopefully I make a purrfect first impression.

Ilia:Please tell me she’s not actually going to say that in front of them?

Blake:*nervous* I really hope she doesn’t.

Neptune:Well they’re bar your home so need for an escort.

Blake:Cool, we can all walk and catch up.

Sun:Actually I still have a lot more preparations to take care of. This is where I tap out for now.

Blake:*frowns* Really things look done?

Sun:Nah it’s not even close hehe. Catch up with you later. *walks off*

Ilia:....

Blake:Sigh, I thought this would end up a bit weird. Maybe I should-

Neptune:Trust me he’s fine. Your mother literally gave him a list for three people because of his semblance. As a matter of fact, maybe you should help out Ilia.

Ilia:Huh?

Neptune:Yeah, you lost the race you two had. Wasn’t the promise to help with his work?

Ilia:Ummm it was. I...I was just hoping I’d weasel my way out of it.

Neptune:Dang, you stab him and you won’t even help with his work load.

Ilia:You weren’t even there for-hey! *getting guided away.

Neptune:*whispers* Aren’t you spy? Can’t you read what I’m trying to spell out? Go check in him.

Ilia:Why don’t do it? He’s your friend?

Neptune:Sun rarely gets mushy around me. Besides do you really want to spend time around Blake and Yang? It looked like any minute you were gonna change into every shade of red. I’m giving you an out.

Ilia:......fine. But don’t get used to me doing this. *walking off*

Neptune:Thank you, you’re beautiful!

Ilia:So is every girl you look at.....Thank you though.

Neptune:*Turns around* Alright you two, I want every detail about your adventure. Blake, I know you didn’t cut your hair for nothing; what happened? *chuckles*

Ilia:(He’s really good swaying people...)

She started walking in the opposite direction; thinking and following her target’s footprints. Neptune was right, she didn’t want to go with them at the moment. There was too much to process right now and it was starting to show as her skin did get a little red as if she was getting sunburnt. She felt burned alright but the heat had nothing to do with it. Sandy foot prints faded as they led through the market streets.

Ilia:Not gonna make this easy for me huh? Actually I’m glad, I need a good distraction right now. *climbs a tree* All right Sun, where the hell am I gonna find you?

#rwby #ghira belladonna #kali belladonna #blake belladonna #sun wukong #yang xiao long #neptune vasilias #ilia amitola #rwby sunshower #bumblb #bumbleby

[writerkenna]

The Lights of Stars and The Glitter in Your Eyes Chp 4

I am SO sorry for how long this took. I went from ear infection to cold to stomach flu one right after another and could hardly do more than lay in bed and watch Schitt's Creek.

I will try to be more consistent with updates from now on.

But y'all, this shit is cute. Really cute. FLUFF WARNING

Enjoy!

(songs that I liked while writing this: Mine by Bazzi, Somethin Stupid by Frank Sinatra, Chelsea Dagger by the Fratellis and the ramblings of my own mind by me)

“That system is one of the most massive in the universe. Over thirty planets. You see how big the star is?” Thor said as Bruce leaned over to where his finger was pointing at. Bruce jotted down a scribble of something.

“What’s the name? And, uh, um, what are our coordinates right now? Do you know that? Is it inhabited?” Bruce rambled, eyes darting in bright flashes between Thor, the twinkle of the Galbacus system, and his notepad. The side of Thor’s lips ticked up into a pleased smile, and gave all the details he could.

Stargazing, though not as frequent an occurrence as their other rituals, was becoming part of their shared traditions. Bruce was the push behind every extended trip to the window. Thor had learned that his seven PhDs were in Nuclear Physics, Computer Science, Biochemistry, Radiobiology, Medicine, Particle Physics, and, apparently, Astronomy, which he had explained to Thor he had pursued due to his intense and undying love of the stars. Bruce approached space with a mix of the analytical and passion, coming in with a million questions of metrics as well as younger eyes than Thor had ever seen on him. Thor always tried to answer, to the best of his abilities, the questions that Bruce sped-spoke to him. He hoped that maybe one day this could go into another one of Bruce’s papers and he would have helped with that and done a service to Midgardian science as a whole, though, secretly, he knew, as he watched Bruce’s teeth tug in a corner of lip while he gave him the details of Galbacus’s fourth planet from its star, that he did not really love star charting for any educational purpose.

“How do you know all this, by the way? All the systems?” Bruce asked.

“Asgardian education is very broad, Bruce. I know much about astronomy, as well as other sciences.” Thor’s grin inched out further as a warmth spread under Bruce’s cheeks along with a steady glow permeating from under his irises.

“Asgard has science? That’s . . . like, sorry this is kinda lame, but can you explain it to me, how that works? This sorta stuff is, well, my thing,” Bruce beamed and his mouth pulled open a smidge to show a glint of white teeth. He was genuinely excited about this, almost to the point of wonder, and the smile Bruce was sending his way, a real, true, indulgent smile, hit Thor in his core, melting that solid ball of grit inside him to some moldable mush.

“I, yes, I’m realizing that it is,” he replied. He went on, expanding on the manners of Asgardian science, the overlap of magic with the technical, and followed the motions of Bruce’s speedy fingers flicking around his notepad.

He wrote with a fire that sprung from the tip of his pencil and resulted in half-readable scratches across his page. Note taking and research were the only times Bruce, outside of Hulk form, moved with speed. His hands, which were normally kept braced around each other at his midsection in a silent state of waiting, moves rare and planned, woke themselves when the notion of science floated by them. They ignited first, those hands, though the rest of the body always followed close behind, alive with the idea of gaining knowledge. Thor didn’t think he should be blamed for staring.

Thor did stop his eyes from locking, though, when he caught himself stuck on the twitch of Bruce’s pinky as it tapped its own secret code on the notepad. Thor’s chest went hot, like an ember pushing its way through him from his back, and he had to actually shake himself to remove the tension of it. As he did, the hand which seemed to be causing the trouble moved up towards Bruce’s face and pressed against his temple.

“Agh, Christ, the big guy’s aggressive today.”

Thor’s everything fell, because Bruce had been saying that too often, because Thor knew why.

“Oh,” Thor was plummeting. He could see Hulk, see all the pain and fury spiking right under Bruce’s eyes and he hated himself for it, “What does it feel like? With him, trying to get out?”

Bruce dropped his hands down, connecting them together at his waist, and his mouth fell open at its center. His face became hard for Thor to interpret, changing too much too quickly, but Thor could see one thing for certain, two voices in one mind.

“It’s . . . ah, sort of like. Um, brainfreeze?” Bruce tried, but shook that off, “No, not like that, actually. More like, I can hear this noise, this mumble or . . . fuzz sort of thing, at the back of my head. And sometimes, like, um, right now, it’s super loud and  . . . I, it’s hard to think, you know?”

“I . . . yes,” Thor said through his teeth. He paused, eyes not on Bruce but down on himself and the toes of his boots, and then raised both hands up to the sides of his head. He shoved against himself till he felt static at the corners of his sight. This felt necessary, somewhat, an atonement for his sins against Bruce, to feel the pressure he inflicted, but he couldn’t get a good traction with his knuckles, and he was sure, just from the fight that radiated out from under Bruce’s skin, that whatever Thor was trying was nothing compared to that.

“Hey, geez, don’t do that,” Bruce’s hand covered one of Thor’s and slipped it down. Thor allowed himself one curl around Bruce’s pinky with his index finger and uncoiled it as soon as he saw Bruce’s eyes drift to it.

“I . . . wanted to know how it felt for you.”

Bruce went into a wide eyed silence and took a pace away from Thor, left foot catching on his right.

“No, you-you shouldn’t want that,” Bruce said to the floor and Thor’s shoulders squared around his ears. He was certain, that if he was making Bruce’s head shake with rumbles, that if Bruce couldn’t meet his eyes, he must be truly awful.

“I-uh, Loki, I have to go meet Loki,” Thor shot at Bruce, turning as he spoke to the door and just missing seeing what Bruce’s eyes would have looked like when they returned to him.

His lunch with Loki was actually not for another thirty minutes or so but he really couldn’t look at Bruce right now, and he was fairly certain his presence was giving Bruce crippling migraines, so he took himself over to the cafeteria, flicked dirt out from under his nails, and waited.

“Why are you all twitchy, and stuff? What’s happening?” Loki settled across from Thor with a cup of something steaming. His brow was dipping into the skin of his eyelid as he scanned over the stretch of Thor, vaguely judgemental, as per usual.

“Ah, am I?” Thor checked himself. There was a tremble shimmying from his shoulder and through his thigh to his foot. He stopped, but the tension was still there, transmitting from his head in rolling waves as he thought about the situation he had screwed himself into.

“Yes, you are. Is it the politics overwhelming your very blond head?”

“No!” Thor replied, overly defensive, but, well, his head was a bit too blond for politics and he didn’t want to be reminded of the fact. He corrected his tone, “No, it is not-well, I do have a political query for you of sorts.”

“You can’t change your official title to Thor: King, Strongest Avenger, and National Asskicker,” Loki drawled, a smirk growing around his spoon as he ate his soup.

“Um, I am the only king so I think I can-wait, no, not what I was asking. I want you to be my foreign minister,” Thor whipped out a big grin on issuing on what he had hoped would be a joyous announcement. He was met with Loki’s smirk working away into a scathing frown.

“You are truly an idiot.”

“Excuse me?” Thor balked. Loki tossed his head back with a pull of a grimace across his face.

“I will absolutely not be doing that.” Loki was starting to look near disgusted and it was making Thor wonder if he had somehow insulted him. Maybe foreign minister hadn’t been big enough. Probably that.

“Now, I know foreign minister might not seem so grand, brother, but it’s perfect for you. All, ah, the cunning and strategy and being mean to other dignitaries,” Thor explained. Loki didn’t soften.

“No one here on this ship wants me anywhere near government,” he huffed back. Thor pulled his lips taut and shook his head.

“Uh, I do? Why aren’t you happy? You should be happy.” He sort of hated this act Loki put on of self pity, digging himself so firmly into the place of social pariah, which, well, maybe he was now after all he’d done. It was a chicken and egg deal with that, though, because Thor couldn’t remember when Loki was ever not whining about acceptance and lamenting his lot in life.

“I, wow, I can’t believe you’re actually this naive. You’re going to piss off all your councils, and, of course, Heimdall, if you make me anything. I mean, for Odin’s sake, you’ve already elected the beast as-”

“Do not,” Thor bellowed, a determined finger swinging out and attracting the attention of a couple two tables behind them, “call Bruce a beast.”

“Ah,” Loki said and his smirk returned with a fervor, like he had solved it. Thor groaned, because Loki had somehow turned this into a display of Thor’s complicated hang ups.

“What would you do if, in a theoretical situation, you really enjoyed someone’s company very much, but your company caused them pain?” Thor asked after he had decided he had been manipulated. Loki stared for a long moment, vacant face, before he spoke.

“Could you, theoretically, be caught for this?”

“Yes,” Thor answered, sweat brimming on the brink of his neck. He wasn’t sure exactly what the extent of Hulk and Bruce’s communication was, and his secret felt like it was wafting closer to the surface every day.

“Then I’d leave them the fuck alone,” Loki said, and Thor deflated.

Avoiding Bruce became easier as Thor went on with it. The ship had many areas to escape to, like the gym, that had bags and people to punch, the cafeteria, with meat to feast upon and people who were not Bruce to converse with, and occasionally, Loki’s quarters, which mostly resulted in both him and Thor becoming increasingly aggravated and was consequently low on Thor’s list of visiting spots. And though Bruce was up late most nights with his work on his paper, Thor could feign sleep well enough and their talking was minimalized.

Thor didn’t know if he liked the ease with which he was able to avoid Bruce.

He couldn’t, however, avoid Bruce in the council meetings. Bruce, as direct chancellor to the king, was at every one of them, sitting right next to Thor over piles of haphazard notes.

“No, no, we are going with Ariagana’s policy, not Haldier’s,” Bruce mumbled, only for Thor, slipping a page out from the others. Thor skimmed the lines on trade laws.

“We want the one with . . . ah, more safety checks on imported goods.” His eyes wandered over Bruce’s way, who gave him a small nod. Thor warmed as a curl stumbled over onto Bruce forehead with the motion. He brought his mind back to the meeting.

Bruce was a mighty distraction, though. This was the only long stretch Thor allowed himself to have of Bruce and it was hard not to fall down the coiled trap of watching all the quirks and fidgets Bruce was prone to. At that moment, Thor was getting a side-eyed view of how Bruce looped his pencil over and under his fingers in idle seconds. This, he supposed, creepily observing his private movements and ministrations, would have to fill the gaps left by their star charting and movie marathons and late night talks.

The meeting ended when a debate between two members of the agriculture committee got violent, where Thor decided with Bruce he was very clearly on Einar’s side.

“Hey.” Bruce grabbed Thor in the rush of people exiting the meeting room. Thor couldn’t help but notice that Bruce’s eyes were ghosted with the dull gray of stress.

“Hi, uh, hey, Banner,” Thor said, with an edge, with a border. Bruce’s lip ticked down, but he didn’t correct it, “Thanks for . . . you’re really good with the notes, thanks.”

“Course, bud,” Bruce said with a sigh and Thor could feel the sense of more underneath it. Despite himself, Thor didn’t leave. It had been four days without real conversation between the two. He had been craving.

“Can I ask you a question?” Thor offered. Bruce lit up.

“Sure.”

“With that film we watched, the one about the mean alien and the really badass lady warrior, is that cat okay in the end? I know the xenomorph doesn’t eat him but-” Bruce’s laugh bustled in and Thor’s brow bunched up, “What?”

“You are so precious,” Bruce said, face going soft in the edges of his mouth and the wrinkles of his eyes. Somewhere in between the muscles of Thor’s abs and his gut, a match was lit and as it sparked, his lungs burned. He took in two large gulps of air.

Bruce broke the fuzz, though, as he groaned and pressed fingertips to his temple. Thor caught himself, and guilt dredged out the fire.

“Have to go,” he shot before Bruce could say anymore. And Thor ran, fast, fast, fast.

He landed in the gym by riding his foggy wave of remorse and worry. The punching bag in the far left of the room became his venting for his anger at himself and the sparks that glinted across him when Bruce’s lips split open across his teeth. As fists flew and Thor’s vision blurred, time sped and dragged in equal portions, and Thor wasn’t sure, when someone pulled him off the crumbling bag, if he had been there for thirty minutes or five hours.

“Shit, that bag owe you money?” Valkyrie asked as Thor stumbled away from the bag. He huffed at it, then looked back over to Valkyrie, who looked like a solution.

“Spar with me?” he asked. Valkyrie’s mouth quirked up fast.

“Yeah,” she replied, followed closely by a fist zooming for Thor’s head. Thor ducked it and hooked Valkyrie’s waist until she was dipping with him.

“You’re upsetting Bruce,” Valkyrie said from under Thor’s hold. Thor gave her a long look and a puff of a ‘huh’. Valkyrie took the moment to loop her thighs around Thor’s neck and tumble them both back.

“How . . . do  . . . you know?” stumbled Thor. Valkyrie laughed, but with a sigh, loosened her legs.

“He told me. Cause I talk to Bruce, unlike you, apparently?” she explained, and the legs fell. She leaned on her elbows on the rubber-ish mat below them, “Why is that?”

Thor flipped her forward as an objection to replying. She hissed out as her back slammed the floor with a might. Thor winced for her.

“Sorry.” Thor looked away as Valkyrie rolled her eyes. She started up and took a run towards him. Thor tossed his arms up as a counter.

“So what’s up?” Valkyrie asked around swings.

“What’s what?”

“You and Bruce? Are you, like, obsessed, or something? Because you are very, very freaky about him, whether or not you’re flirting with him.”

“Flirting? I, no, no, you-” Thor staggered. His hands were antsy with the allegation and they found traction in careful placement on Valkyrie’s shoulder and hip. His leg got a hit in at her gut, “I-look, flirting, no, and obsession, no. I’m not. I don’t get obsessed, please. That’s below me.”

“Ha! Okay, King, excuse me. Forgot how excellent and above us all you are,” Valkyrie said with an elbow to Thor’s chin. He took a stumble back, finishing it with a spit of whatever she had hit out of him. With a step forward and a toss of a fist, they were crashing blows again.

“Okay, so, well, I’m not saying I’m above you. I just, not obsessed. Bruce is-he . . . just, I just enjoy conversation with him because he is funny and a genius at Midgard science and has good Midgardian films to watch and listens to me and turns into a really cool green guy and makes jokes about things I don’t get but I’m trying to and-and . . . oh, oh. Oh.”

Thor was huffing hot air out into the room and on Valkyrie at that point, the fight only half to blame.

The air room in his head was being sucked out. He was dumb, very dumb. He was made a fool by Bruce in shirts that were too big, with his damned curls and wrinkles and smiles and olive skin. Thor didn’t know how he could only find this from pain and utter Bruce Banner starvation. Despite this, despite being a giant idiot who couldn’t even understand the workings of his own self, Thor felt a smile bubble up on his red face. He didn’t fully snap out of it when a foot knocked him in the chest and he fell to the floor. Instead, warm with electricity and blood rushing everywhere at once, Thor rolled his head up to Valkyrie.

“Oh Gods, I’m in love with Bruce.”

Okay so if you're wondering why they watch so many 80's movies, Bruce Banner, if going based on Mark Ruffallo, should be like 48 or 49, so, a total 80's baby. He also loves Sixteen Candles, Queen, and the Cure.

#thorbruce #thurce #gammahammer #thunderscience #Thor Odinson #Bruce Banner #Loki #valkyrie #MCU #thor ragnarok #mcu fanfiction

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Mother dragon (7); Winchester brothers x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay guys first of all thank you so much for those giving this series a chance and for wanting to be asked to be on my taglist for this series, truly you have no idea who much it means to me that you all are liking this series. Also I’d like to say there here in this chapter we are introduced to yet ANOTHER BORHAP CAST MEMBER and I know all of you are probably gonna flip your shit when u see who it is. Anyways I hope you all enjoy this chapter as well as the many others to come :)

Taglist:

@onebigfangirlworld

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

__________________________________________________________

I was now in what felt like a medical cavern. I was sitting on a boulder bed with Sam and Dean on either side of me and Cas in front of me.  He placed his index and tall finger against my forehead and soon my broken ankle as well as any other injuries I had obtained in that fight were instantly healed.

“Thanks Cas.” I said.  He nodded and Dean asked me.

“You sure you’re okay kid?”

“I’m fine. I mean a little traumatized but other than that I’m all good.” The door opened and soon cautiously coming in was Deacon.  Silently my three ‘brothers’ decided it was best to walk out and give Deacy and me some privacy.

I know I shouldn’t be but I could feel the awkward tension in the air as Deacy slowly walked towards me and looked down shamefully, making that same guilty face that he’s always made ever since he was a child.

“Do you—need me to heal anything mum?”

“No, no Cas took care of all that.” I said. All was too quiet, I don’t even know why but I just couldn’t look at him.  This was all just too much I mean first I find out my adopted son is alive after all these years, then I’m kidnapped by his brothers and his entire nest tries to have me killed, and now I find out that the dragon who I thought was the Alpha wasn’t and that Deacon was the real Alpha.

The Alpha. I mean sure I’ve seen the Alpha Vampire and the Alpha werewolf with my own eyes and Alphas no matter the species are the most dangerous and powerful beings in the entire world, they’re basically gods of their own species.  

And now here is my son who is the Alpha of all dragons, all this time I was raising an Alpha dragon.

*Deacon’s POV*

She was beyond nervous, confused, petrified. I could just smell the anxiety radiating off of my mum.  I hoped that she wouldn’t find out this way of who I really was to my nest.  The way I envisioned it happening was just me and her talking and I would slowly bring it up to her, allowing her to ease into the idea that I had the bloodline of the Alpha dragons.

Not having her nearly burned to death by Warren and me having to physically show her what I was.  Forcing myself to use my bloodline as an Alpha to have Warren stand down and then having almost 1000 dragons bowing before me.

But then an idea came to mind.  She always used to do this to me whenever I wouldn’t speak my mind about something, now it’s time for a little sweet revenge.

I walked up towards her and knelt down in front of her and rubbed my nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss.  I saw the hint of a smile come up on her face as she, like I once did, turned away from me.  I grinned and leaned over her attacking her cheek with kisses.  Softly but surely I could hear giggles coming out of her as I kept hovering and kissing her.

She did try to push me away but like I was when I was a child, she was powerless to escape me.  How long I’ve waited for this day to finally get back at her for doing this to me all the time.  And it was even more enjoyable once I brought out the big guns.  I now started to poke and tickle her along her sides making her go full on belly laugh.

“Deacy…..Stohahahap!”

“You gonna speak your mind? Let out all that’s in that big head of yours?” I mocked her just as she once mocked me.

“Yes! Yehehehs just stohahahp!” I ceased my tickle attack and to be all innocent just like when I was still a young dragonling, I placed my head on her lap and just looked at her with a cute head tilt.

“Not so fun when the shoe’s on the other foot is it?”

“Well that was worse, you’ve got frickin claws for nails.” She panted which made me grin and chuckle as I playfully pawed at her cheek.  Her eyes slowly became solemn again as I felt her stroke my hair and she finally spoke up, “Deacy why didn’t you tell me you were the Alpha?”  I looked up at her before sighing heavily.

“Truthfully I didn’t know myself until I was told of my bloodline by Stephen. And I was going to tell you it’s just…..”

“Just what?”

“I was afraid. Of—what you would think? I know Alphas are known to be the toughest and strongest out of any of their breeds, they’re also to be the most dangerous. I—I thought that if you found out I was an Alpha dragon you’d…..treat me differently.” I felt her hand turn my head to face back up to her and as she thumbed my cheekbone she said.

“Deacy I’m your mother. I could never treat you differently. I just…..need time to adjust to this. I mean it was weird at first when I found you that I was taking in a dragon, but now I find out that you are the Alpha dragon’s heir.”

“Yeah that is a lot to take in isn’t it?” I asked her.

“Just a smidge.” She whispered out which made me chuckle again. “Also I’m still trying to get over the kidnapping and almost witch burned alive execution I nearly faced.”

“I’m sorry mum. I promise you it won’t happen again.”

“How can you be so sure? That dragon seemed very keen on wanting to ensure that I was nothing but ash and bones. Who was he anyway?”

“It’s like Castiel said. By dragon law; the parent of the Alpha is forbidden to be harmed or threatened. Neither one of my dragons are allowed to harm you. And now that they know it, I don’t think anyone will try. And his names Warren, my second in command.”

“Your Beta?” I nodded and she leaned up against the wall and muttered, “Unbelievable. You sure no dragons are gonna conspire against you to get rid of me?”

“Trust me mum, the last time someone tried to conspire against me, ended up exiled with his wing barely able to fly.” She looked at me in shock and I said, “Never let people underestimate you. That’s what you’ve always told me.”

“That I have.” She said as she softly scratched my scalp which induced a low purr from me.  “Now what about those other two dragons that helped out Warren. Who are they?” I merely grinned at her before shooting right up and taking her hand in mine and leading her out of the healing wing.

*My POV*

I was dragged deeper and deeper into the caves as I kept trying to get Deacy to tell me where he was taking me.

“Deacy! Slow—slow down, will yah? Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see mum. C’mon quickly!” We went through tight corners (and I seriously mean tight corners, like it makes you go almost up against the wall type of tight) and up against jagged slopes in order to walk through openings until he finally stopped.  “Go on.”

“What…..”

“Just trust me. The first one you’ll meet is Stephen and then shortly you’ll see Apophis, most likely after he checks in with his mate Kisara.”

“Stephen, Apophis and Kisara.” I muttered the names.

“Yes, now go on.” He shoved me forward and I glared at him telling him not to push me.  He maybe some Alpha but I’m still his mom.  I walked through a couple more tight corners before finally ducking downward and suddenly I was hit with a bright light.  Then my eyes were greeted with the most wonderous sight.

Flying overhead high up along this part of the den were hundreds and hundreds of dragons.  Young babies were down along the grassy ground in front of my playing and wrestling with each other.  All around me there was trees, grass and a steep cliff just ahead which lead down to a small river where some dragons were either drinking or taking a dip.

It was like a paradise for dragons.

‘That much is correct.’ A familiar soft but deep British voice spoke in my head.  I jumped and frantically looked around and the voice said in my head again, ‘Look up Mother dragon.’ I looked up and there hiding in the perch between the mountain and some dangling vines was the owl-like dragon hanging upside down like a bat.

He rotated his head tilting at me as he grumbled down at me.  Instead of the piercing slit eyes like our first encounter, his pupils were now more dilated giving off a sense of friendliness in a way (as far as dragons go).

“I take it you’re—Stephen?” His eyes closed and he bowed his head royally almost like he was bowing before a king or queen before opening them once more.  “Now how-how-how did you do the—”

‘Mind melding?’

“Yeah I guess. Cause this comes as a shock to me that I can hear and understand you in this form when I can’t even hear my son’s thoughts as a dragon.”

‘Consider me a…..special case. It probably would have to deal with the fact that I’m not full dragon.’ Stephen spoke.

“Whoa, whoa, wait, wait, wait, wait hold the phone there. You’re not a full dragon? But how can you—”

‘My dominant genes may allow me to turn into a dragon thanks to my father. But on my mother’s side I am a witch. Or in my case Warlock.’

“Holy shit.” I muttered as I placed my hand to my head turning away from him.

‘Do you disapprove of me?’ he asked concerned.

“What? No, no I just—it’s a bit weird to get my head around it to be honest. I mean I’ve seen many strange beings in my life but never once did I ever imagine a witch and a dragon—doing it with each other.” I heard Stephen chuckle and as he fell from his perch he flipped right side up suddenly changing into his human form and slowly coming down to land in front of me as he said.

“Well, at least I’m not half demon. Or half vampire. Right?” His four wings then folded back into his back and disappeared.

“Well I suppose that is better. Just—don’t let Dean see you. He’s got a—loathing for witches.”

“But—you approve of me? For what I am, right?” he asked me wearily as he slowly got closer to me.

“Wh-why would you need my approval for?”

“It’s because of his genes that he’s been kicked out of every dragon nest from here to Norway.” Another male voice spoke up. We both turned around and standing there was Egyptian dragon whom I assumed to be Apophis.  

I turned toward Stephen to see him glaring at the Egyptian before turning his attention to me and looking down shamefully.

“See as parent of the Alpha; you also have a calling on who stays in the nest or goes, should they feel threatening to either you or your heir.” Apophis continued to say.  I looked back towards Stephen and said.

“You are who you are, Stephen. There’s no changing your birth right. I see no reason why you should be kicked out of the nest.” I told him.  He looked down at me and smiled gratefully and kneeled before me saying.

“Thank you, Mother dragon.”

“Oh please, call me (y/n). I’d rather be treated equally than as royalty.” I told him as I made him stand up.

“While we’re on the side note. I’d also like to apologize for what happened along the cliffside back in Kansas. I was only following orders from Warren. And I’m sorry about that friend of yours.” Apophis said.

“No worries. He’s not human as you might be able to detect. At least Deacy was. He’s been through worst falls than that.” I assured him.  I soon took notice that as I was talking to them, several dragons were surrounding us getting a good look at me.

Some of the young ones even came up to me and sniffed me or were playing with the strings on my tennis shoes.  Stephen would shoo them off and that’s when I heard another flap of wings.

“Ohh, here comes the Missus right now.”

“Missus? You mean Kisara?” Apophis nodded and soon flying down beside him was a female white dragon with piercing blue eyes. She wasn’t as big as either Deacy or even Warren’s dragon forms and unlike the boys (minus Apophis), her wings were clearly on her back and she had four legs instead of two.

“Hello my love.” Apophis praised the female white dragon.  Kisara purred affectionately as her mate touched her under her chin and that’s when her eyes locked with mine.  

Her pupils dilated as she looked at me and tilted her head much like a puppy dog.  Apophis whispered something to her and that’s when she came up towards me. I cringed and held my arms up in case she would suddenly attack but all she did was sniff me.

Right suddenly before she let out a low, deep purr before nuzzling me so affectionately I ended up landing and lying over her muzzle.

“Whoa, whoa!” I couldn’t help but laugh as I was even lifted up off the ground just a couple of feet before being set back down and I slid off her muzzle.  “She’s really affectionate isn’t she?”

“Pregnant dragons usually are, especially around experienced mothers.” Stephen explained as Kisara was now at my feet spinning around me almost caging me in a way but only halfway as she now exposed her stomach before me.

“Wait she’s…..”

“Yep, our first batch of eggs. We just found out a couple weeks ago thanks to Stephen. Hopefully soon she’ll be able to lay them and then it’s a wait game for about 3 months.”  Kisara looked up at me and I turned to Stephen who said to me.

“She wants you to feel them. She’s giving you permission to feel them.” Oh wow, this’ll be a first for me.  But I guess it’s no different than touching a pregnant woman’s stomach.  

I slowly lifted my hand up and looked to Apophis since this was his mate I didn’t want to cross any boundaries.  He nodded softly and I felt her soft and smooth underbelly and heard her purr.

Kisara then got back up onto her feet and came around me and stared at me before bopping her head up and down.  Knowing this technique from Deacy since he used to do it all the time, I joined in with her as we both grumbled and I let out a series of laughs, that was until something amazing happened.

Kisara’s teeth retracted.

My eyes were bewildered as she held her mouth open and I couldn’t help but observe.

“Whoa retractable teeth! Incredible.” As I brought my head out from her mouth she looked at me and softly licked my cheek before nuzzling my head with hers purring lowly.  “Oh Apophis, your wife’s magnificent. Unlike any dragon I’ve ever seen before.”

“That’s an honor coming from you, isn’t that right my love?” Soon Kisara’s form began to change as now standing before me was a beautiful young woman with short blonde hair and greenish-brown eyes.  

She looked to be about Apophis’ age and to show there was the baby bump but it looked like she was ready to deliver as she looked about 8-9months along (maybe something equivalent to that since animal/human births are different).

“Thank you Mother Alpha. I—hope you’ll be willing to help me with my pregnancy and give me any advice you can give in raising my future little ones.” She said as she took my hands in hers.  Her voice was warm like honey and was as delicate as a bell, giving it that musical airy kind of tone, but it truly held a mother’s tone.

“When first time female dragons fall pregnant, they typically seek out the advice of an experienced mother to help. And it would seem Kisara has chosen you, mum.” Deacy’s voice soon rang up.  All the dragons surrounding us bowed their heads in respect for him.  I also took notice that Sam, Dean and Cas were there with him.

“Whoa, whoa, hang on Alpha we just got here what’s going on here? Whose pregnant?!” Dean snapped. I looked to Dean telling him through my eyes that if he slips his big mouth of an insult in front of all these dragons he’s gonna get royally fucked over.

“I mean I—don’t know much about raising babies from egg hood but…..I’ll happily tell you what I did know from raising Deacy.” She suddenly hugged me lovingly and nuzzled the top of my head in thanks. “Plus I can fill you in on all the embarrassing stories I got.”

“Oh mum why?”

“Oh I would very much like to hear that.” Bragged Apophis with a grin.

“Well buckle up cause I’ve got about a hundred of embarrassing stories to tell about your brave alpha.” I bragged.

“Mum!” Deacy exclaimed as he came over toward me and covered my mouth.

“You’re just fooling yourselves.” Another British voice spoke up.  Soon flying downward landing on the edge of the cliffside was Warren.  His wings remained out trying to appear intimidating as he glared right toward me.  “Humans especially hunters are just barbarous, monstrous, savages who mean to do us all harm. They call us greedy, prideful monsters, when the true greed shines in them.”

“Hey pal listen, we know you don’t like our sis here but word of warning. You cross her again you deal with me. Cause no one messes with (n/n) but me, understand?” Dean said as he came up in front of me.

“Do you really think that mere force will deny me my right? Puny hunter.” Warren spat.

“Your right according to whose law?!” Kisara hissed. Her once honey-like voice was now harsh and bitter like ice sharps scrapping along glass as anger boiled up inside her as she stood protectively in front of me, her wings out defensively.

“You know the law Warren.” Stephen spoke up.

“Careful Stephen, you do not have the right over me.” The air grew tense as all the dragons minus Deacon phased into their dragon forms and my son spoke up.

“Along with my mother; The angel and the Winchesters are under the protection of the nest. Should you break that law again, you won’t just be facing me, you’ll be facing all of us.” All the dragons roars and snarled at Warren ensuring the promise that their Alpha has given.  

Telling him that now that they knew who I was to their Alpha, I meant no harm and that his scent on me was because of me being his mother, not his killer, they weren’t going to betray their Alpha again.

“You’ve been blinded Deacon. The day these humans turn their backs on you, your ‘mother’ will be the first. One. I. burn!” Kisara and Deacy stood protectively in front of me, my son’s wings spread out as his eyes shined a protective glared straight at Warren.

He slunked his head down but his icy blue eyes went straight at me and I saw nothing but pure hatred and a shiver of fear came up my spine.  Then he took off flying with some of the dragons chasing after him shooting fire at him to ensure he stayed away from me.

“Colorful guy, isn’t he?” Dean sarcastically spoke up.

“Dean not now.” Sam whispered out a hiss.

“No really I wanna know just who he think—”

“Dean!” Cas snapped.  It was then Deacy spoke up.

“Warren’s had a rough encounter with humans in the past. Found him in Germany forced to fight in a fighting ring for supernatural creatures. Like me poachers killed his parents and they sold him to the fights for 7500 pounds.”

He then flew on ahead and stood up on a high perch and proclaimed,

“Brothers and sisters you all heard Warren continue to threaten my mother! Mum, what say you about Warren’s fate?” I looked up at him and then to the guys.

I stepped forward going past Kisara and I said something that shocked even me.

“He stays!” I heard the dragons mutter to themselves in their grumbles or low growls and huffs.

“So be it. Warren stays. But should his threats continue, everyone must ensure to not only protect my mother, but her friends as well. So long as I am Alpha, the nest will stand by them.”  He let out a fearsome roar and soon all the dragons joined in.

As night fell, Deacy took me up to his room thinking that I would be safer sleeping with him in case Warren tried to do something in the middle of the night.  Kisara had actually lent me some night clothes that she thought would fit me better and as I got changed in Deacy’s bathroom, my mind went back to Warren.

Not only his threat but I felt like there was more to him that just the hard exterior. Also when Deacon was telling us his backstory earlier, it felt like he was holding something back but I knew better than to ask him, at least for now.

I left the bathroom and I looked out to see the entire view from Deacy’s cave opening.

“I can’t believe you get to see this every night.”

“Kinda gets boring after a while.” He admitted.

“Well it’s better than waking up before a steel enforced ceiling.”

“Oh come on now you’ve got pictures of Queen up along your wall, you’ve decorated that room to your liking so it’s not all just steel enforced.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I muttered as I sat on his bed. And oh my god was it ever the softest thing I had ever lain in.  I felt it adjust to my body shape and I buried myself into the pillows. “God Deacy your bed is so soft.”

“Thank you.” He said as he lay beside me, the two of us looking out into the sanctuary.  “Do you remember our nights star gazing?”

“Didn’t one time you get scared when you thought a raccoon was a bear?” I teased.

“Hey, I was 2 years old at the time and after that last bear attack I was traumatized.”

“Well then you shouldn’t have messed with the cub. You know what I’ve always told you.”

“Don’t mess with mama bear.” We both said as I poked my finger into his side making him squirm.  I let out a yawn and snuggled into his chest.

“It’s late mum, and you’ve had a long day. You deserve rest.”

“Do you promise you’ll still be here when I wake up?” I asked tiredly.

“I promise.” I felt his wings wrap around me and a kiss on the crown of my hair.  I sighed tiredly and immediately fell asleep against his chest, his breathing and heartbeat lulling me to sleep.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom #supernatural imagine #supernatural imagines #spn fanfiction #spn imagines #joe mazzello #ben hardy #gwilym lee #rami malek #lucy boynton #dean winchester #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x sister reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x sister reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester imagine #castiel #castiel imagine #castiel imagines #castiel x reader #castiel fanfiction #borhap cast x reader #borhap boys

[araliyaintheskywithdiamonds]

Open Your Eyes - A CrissColfer Fic

Part 6 of The Siken Diaries, a series of drabbles and one-shots based on poetry by Richard Siken.

Just mentioning that this is Escort!Darren for those of you who need forewarning.

Word Count: 2745 AO3

6. Open Your Eyes - Snow Patrol

                      Who am I? I’m just a writer. I write things down.                  I walk through your dreams and invent the future. Sure,             I sink the boat of love, but that comes later. And yes, I swallow                                     glass, but that comes later.                                   And the part where I push you    flush against the wall and every part of your body rubs against the bricks,                                                    shut up                                               I’m getting to it.                                                                                                                -

                                  Hello darling, sorry about that.                             Sorry about the bony elbows, sorry we            lived here, sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell                     and how I ruined everything by saying it out loud.                           Especially that, but I should have known.    You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together                         to make a creature that will do what I say                                                or love me back.                  I’m not really sure why I do it, but in this version you are not                                      feeding yourself to a bad man                            against a black sky prickled with small lights.                                                 I take it back.          The wooden halls like caskets. These terms from the lower depths.                                                I take them back.

                    Here is the repeated image of the lover destroyed.

          -Richard Siken, Litany In Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out

Chris isn’t sure why he does it. Maybe he’s finally desensitised to it all- to the dates and the drinks and the swiping left and right and every which way. To the men whom Chris thinks he could actually care about that just end up becoming notes on pillows and unanswered phone calls. To the sickening, stomach churning feeling of rejection.

Maybe this is what makes him slowly dial the number, shakily tell the unnervingly cheerful lady who answers the phone what he’s after, and note down the name and phone number she gives him.

Everett. No last name, but Chris is certain that this isn’t the guy’s real name anyway.

He makes the ‘reservation’ through the lady, balking at the thought of establishing any sort of contact with the man beforehand. She gives him the paying rates and while he doesn’t care about the money, he cares about the fact that the figures are making this more real than he can handle.

***

By the next week, Chris has forgotten about it.

That is, until the buzzer at the gate sounds, and he turns on the security screen to see an unfamiliar man with a halo of dark curls and bronze eyes. He looks so animated and alive when he waves at the camera that Chris almost forgets that he’s just paid to fuck him.

Almost.

Chris touches the key-shaped icon that opens the gate and picks nervously at his clothes, thankful that he’s actually gotten dressed today. He opens the door before Everett can knock, mindful of the house on the right that can see into his courtyard, and is horrified to find him standing in the doorway, covered in blood.

“Ah shit, man,” Everett says, wiping at his face, which looks it’s just about been doused, what with the way his nose is streaming blood. He holds up what Chris vaguely recognises as one of Cooper’s soft toys. “I tripped on this and face planted right into the tree.”

Chris looks towards the offending plant and nods a little. He’s always thought that the palm tree in the middle of the courtyard looked a little pretentious.

He realises that Darren’s still waiting for him to say something, holding his hand up to his face to stem the bleeding. It’s not working- red fluid seeps through his fingers and drips onto the stone.

“I hope it’s not too bad,” Chris says quietly, holding the door open for Darren and wondering whether it would be easier to bring the hose out while the blood’s still wet.

“Yeah, it would suck pretty bad if I’ve broken my nose or something,” Everett grimaces. Even though his teeth are lined with red and his eyes are watering, he’s still strikingly beautiful.

“People kind of pay for my face, you know,” he continues, and Chris is rather abruptly reminded why he’s here. Everett seems to be reminded of that too.

He accepts the ice pack and damp washcloth that Chris hands him and follows him into the downstairs bathroom, where he carefully prods at his nose. “We can still continue, I think. My nose isn’t broken or anything.”

“I can’t make you do that,” Chris says. He’s not sure whether it’s sympathy for the guy’s bruised nose or the sudden and horrifying realisation that he’s about to sleep with an escort that makes him decline.

Everett grins at him. “The blood put you off? Some guys are into that, you know.”

“I- uh, no. It just looks a little painful.”

“Nah, it’s just a bit sore,” Everett replies, shrugging. Chris doesn’t say anything, and Everett eyes him curiously. “You’re sure?”

Chris nods, and he smiles reassuringly. “No worries man. We can always reschedule if you like.”

Everett ends up staying. He insists on cleaning the washcloth and the trail of blood he’s left behind, which ends up with him spying the faux racoon tail hanging from the balcony, which leads to them discussing the cinematics of Moonrise Kingdom on Chris’ couch.

Well, Everett discussing. Chris mostly listening.

Eventually, Chris is the one doing the talking. He’s not sure what happens but suddenly, it feels like a dam’s broken. It starts out with mundane things, like why exactly he named his cat Brian. Then it’s the books. He tells Everett about the manuscripts on the coffee table and the word documents on his laptop. About the words, and how recently, they’ve stuck in his throat like they’re a train that just won’t arrive.

What he doesn’t tell Everett is the fact that Chris booked him to resolve exactly that. His publicist had told him succinctly in a strongly worded email that he, quote-on-quote, ‘needed to get laid’, and in a fit of desperation, he’d done just that. Of course, not the ‘normal’ way, picking up some faceless man at a bar where he hopefully wouldn't get recognised, but in a more discrete, rather less acceptable way.

Everett listens, amber eyes glowing in the half-light as the sun sets. Chris doesn’t move to turn the light on.

It’s only when the alarm on Everett’s phone buzzes that Chris is brought to reality. Their time is up. Of course.

Everett seems genuinely regretful that he has to leave. He tells Chris that he can schedule another meeting through the agency or he can contact him directly if he wants. When Chris slides over the check, Everett slides it right back.

“You don’t need to pay, man. We just hung out.”

He puts his hand on Chris’. His skin is warm.

Chris pulls away and tries not to feel anything when Everett’s eyes flicker with something that looks a little like disappointment. He walks him to the door, and before he can turn away, Everett bites his lip and hesitates.

“My name, it’s not Everett. Well it is- it’s my middle name- but my real name’s Darren.”

Darren.

Chris smiles a little, and holds up a hand in farewell. Darren looks like he wants to say something but thinks better of it, sliding the gate open and walking out.

Chris watches his retreating back and then goes upstairs to lie in his cold bed. He’ll clean Darren’s blood off the doorstep tomorrow, he thinks.

***

It takes a bottle and a half of wine to contact Darren again.

Chris texts instead of calls- there’s no way Darren won’t notice the slur, and he makes sure he re-reads it a dozen times before hitting send. It’s just a date and time, but he has to make sure.

He’s not even expecting sex, not really, but when Darren walks in, Chris finds himself pushing Darren against the door, curling a palm around the strong line of his jaw. Their lips meet and Darren makes a muffled sound of surprise before his fists tighten in the material of Chris’ shirt, pulling him closer.

They have sex right there on the living room floor.

“Thank god for your for your fancy rugs,” Darren laughs when it’s over, hand resting over his slick stomach, uncaring.

Chris just stares at the lube smeared on the Marrakesh Shag and thinks about how in an hour, Darren will have to go. And now that they’ve actually done what Chris ordered him for, he’ll never see him again.

It’s only when they’ve curled up naked on the couch that Darren tells him lightly, “You can book me as a regular, you know.”

He dips his finger into his bowl of ice cream and sucks, pink tongue curling around his finger as it chases the cream. Chris asks him whether he’d be okay with that and Darren laughs, bopping Chris on the nose with a sticky finger.

“Of course I’d be okay with that, man. You’re pretty fucking amazing.”

This time, Darren kisses him at the doorstep.

***

Chris supposes things start going a little wrong when Darren stops taking the money.

He doesn’t notice it at first- the checks disappear from the phone table by the door as usual (his chest hurts a little when he gives them straight to Darren), but it’s only when Chris goes to check whether he spent another night sleep-shopping that he realises that none of the them are being cashed.

Chris doesn’t say anything at first. He opens the door to let Darren in as usual, lets him walk him backwards up the stairs to the bedroom as usual, lets him kiss Chris until he can’t breathe. Lets Darren curl up against him as they talk or watch a movie, lets him stay the night.

When Darren leaves in the morning, Chris watches him slide the slip of paper into his back pocket. He lets him kiss him at the door, and Chris could almost pretend they were normal, if it weren’t for the outline of the folded square of paper, burning a hole in Chris’ mind.

He gives Darren a week, and at the end of it, the night before Darren comes over again, the money’s still there.

***

Darren’s halfway up the stairs when Chris asks him about it. It’s probably not the best timing; with Darren just one step above him, they’re the same height as each other, and Chris can see into those ridiculous eyes with painful clarity.

“Why are you not taking the money?” Chris asks quietly.

Darren balks, paling visibly. The hand that had been tugging Chris up the stairs drops to his side and Chris feels the sudden emptiness in his bones.

“What are you talking about? I take the checks.”

“But you don’t cash them,” Chris replies.

Why is he pushing this? Why does it matter?

(Because, Chris reminds himself, without the money, this is real. Without the money, Darren isn’t pretending anymore.)

“I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.”

Chris’ eyes widen. Darren looks stricken, like he can’t believe the words have come out of his mouth. Without a sound, he brushes past Chris and walks to the door, turning the handle with a shaky wrist.

Chris doesn’t know why he doesn't follow him. His feet stay rooted to the ground, and he stays staring at the vanilla carpet, until Brian curls around his ankles and meows for his dinner.

***

“This is Chris. Please leave a message.”

“Hey, Chris. This is Darren.

I- uh. I’m sorry for walking out on you last night. But-

we can’t do this.

I can’t do this. To you.

We could never be together. You can’t date an escort and I can’t lose my job. I’m a musician until the people stop listening and the gigs stop coming, and then what?

Parents aren’t going to let their kids read books written by a guy who fucks an escort, Chris. A male escort.

Please don’t contact me again. I need the distance, otherwise I’ll never fall out of love with you.”

***

When Darren stops coming, so do the words.

Chris had been doing okay, until then. His publishers had been pleased, fewer and fewer drafts were being sent back, and his publicist had been gleeful that her advice had actually worked.

She, of course, had no idea that Chris had gone and fallen in love with the one person he wasn’t supposed to have.

Then it ends up that Chris really doesn’t have him, and his heart, along with his writing, come to a shuddering halt.

***

He sees Darren several months later at a Book Release for one of the big name thriller writers.

He’s on the arm of some vaguely familiar woman in a chignon and a black dress, diamonds glittering at her throat. Darren’s hair is slicked back and he’s buttoned up to the collar in a sharp suit.

The shock of seeing Darren again overshadows the realisation that women take escorts too, and some even as dates to functions and high profile events.

Darren catches his eye as he turns away from an amicable conversation with a silver-haired man to grab a drink from a waiter, and freezes when he realises that it’s Chris’ icy blue eyes that he’s staring into.

Chris stands there, stock-still, and suddenly, the delicate stem of the wine glass he’s holding feels like it could just about shatter under his grip.

He unsticks his feet from the hardwood floors painstakingly, making to move over to Darren, until he sees him widen his eyes and shake his head. Chris follows his eyes to the sign that points to the men’s lavatory.

Of course. Darren and his hero complex.

Chris watches him excuse himself, watches the client trail her fingers down his arm in goodbye, watches his retreating back as he walks down the corridor that leads to the bathroom.

He waits a moment before following suit. The door swings shut with a well-oiled slide, and Darren stands at the other end, twisting at his cufflinks.

“Hi,” Chris says, quietly.

“Hi.”

“Was she-”

“Yeah.”

Darren’s hair is cut shorter than Chris remembers, and he wonders whether his fingers would get caught in the curls like they used to.

“Why?” Chris asks, instead. “Why did you leave me?”

“I told you.”

“No, you didn’t,” Chris says fimly. “You didn’t tell me, you just did it. Like you had the right to just choose what was good for me.”

Darren’s eyebrows knit together in a crease, a frown replacing the smile lines. “You know I had to. What would we have done?”

“I loved you back,” Chris whispers. “I loved you back and you just threw it away.”

He can feel the burn in his eyes, in his stomach, churning in his chest.

“We can’t,” Darren says quietly. He takes a step forward, a stride that places him right before Chris, that has them within a hair’s breadth of each other. He places a tentative hand on Chris’ jaw. “I could never forgive myself if something went wrong.”

Chris brings his own fingers up to meet Darren’s. “How would you know we don’t even try?” The words stick in his throat like glue. “Am I not worth trying for?”

“Chris.”

“You tell me you love me, and then you walk away.”

“Chris, I-”

“Do you do this to all your clients?” Chris asks thickly. His hand is shaking and he knows Darren can feel it. “Make them fall in love with you? Make them believe it’s real to the point where the money’s normal and the appointments are normal and the phone calls through the receptionist are just fine and dandy and normal.”

“It was real,” Darren says, eyes glistening amber under the tastefully arranged lights. He grips Chris’ hand tightly. “And that’s why I had to walk away. If we were to be together, what with my work, I’d be hurting you every day.”

“You have to stop deciding what’s good for me.”

“You don’t understand-”

“I do!” Chris cries, tears falling freely now. “Darren, you’re not saving me by leaving me. I understand what it would be like. I’m not asking you to stop working. And as for the books- my personal life doesn’t make my living, my writing does. And when you were there, Dare- you were standing on the platform when the train arrived.”

Darren’s eyes flash and Chris knows he’s remembering that night of Lysol floor cleaner and cold pizza and the cold fogging up the windows until Chris drew the curtains.

And then later nights of warm sheets and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and passing Darren a Benadryl to stop his allergies flaring up when Brian inevitably burrowed into his lap for the evening.

“I don’t know what we were,” Chris whispers, “but it made me so, so happy. And it would hurt less if it hadn’t actually been real, but you tell me it was real, and that breaks my heart even more.”

“I never want to hurt you,” Darren says, thumbing under Chris’ eyes to disperse the tears. “Tell me that I won’t ruin everything for you.”

“You make me proud, Dare, I doubt you’re capable of ruining anything. You’re kind, and loving, and talented, and so, so giving. I wouldn’t ever change a thing. Please don’t change a thing.”

***

Two men stand in a bathroom until their legs start to ache and people start to eye them strangely.

***

Eventually, Chris goes back to the party, and Darren goes back to work, and that night, someone rings the doorbell.

Chris turns on the speaker, tells Darren to be mindful of any obstacles in his way, and picks Brian up off the doormat.

#CrissColfer #crisscolfer fanfiction #The Siken Diaries #Escort!Darren #I'm really just exhausting all the tropes now aren't I #first badboy D #now this

[caseofthestolenspecs]

Promnis Week: Day 6

Dancing / Ignis finding out Prompto got pushed off the train

(For @promnisweek ! Also cross-posted to my AO3 account.)

Prompto woke that morning to an empty dip on the opposite side of the bed and lukewarm sheets in its stead. Ignis was already up. Normally, that wouldn’t have been anything out of the ordinary (he liked to sleep in; Ignis didn’t), but after their rather...late night together the previous evening, Prompto had expected to see Ignis’ snoring face right in front of him the second he opened his eyes. Apparently, not even staying up until 3AM could keep Ignis Scientia away from his 7AM cup of Ebony. He had a little bit of a problem.

Yawning, Prompto rolled over to check the time on his phone. 9:27AM. Still too early for him, but the guilt of being a lazy ass while Ignis had likely been up for hours won the battle against the sleepies in his eyes. He forced himself out of bed, pulled on a random pair of boxers that were lying on the floor (were they even his?) and set out to go about his zombie-like morning routine.

On his way to the bathroom, though, his footsteps slowed to a halt when he heard something in the air. It was muffled and low, but the way it seemed to bounce up and down and drone constantly told Prompto that it was music. Music. Huh. That was odd. Was Ignis listening to the radio? Ignis wasn’t really a huge fan of the radio (“too much mindless drabble instead of music”, he’d say) so if he was in fact listening to the radio, well, it was a rare occasion. Curious, Prompto slowly padded down the hall, stopping when he approached the kitchen doorway.

Oh, it was the radio, all right. But what intrigued him more was the additional hum in the air, the one that wasn’t blaring from the speakers.

Ignis, dressed in his favourite powder-pink robe with his usual apron strapped to his front, hummed along to the radio, a carton of eggs in one hand as he rifled through the refrigerator with the other. “Ah,” he declared when he found what he was looking for, exchanging the eggs for the brick of butter that had been buried behind several takeout containers in Leftover Hell. He closed the door with a bump of his hip, turning to head for the counter where he’d been working. A whole slew of ingredients lined the surface, and on the stove sat various pots and pans in several states of meal prep. Apparently, Ignis was planning a huge breakfast. Dude must have been starving after last night, Prompto thought to himself, smirking.

While Ignis chopped some choice vegetables, the radio’s song changed. A familiar ‘80s synth-riff blared, and with it Ignis’ hum began to bloom into something more. Prompto felt his breath hitch in his throat and the hair on his arms stand on end while he listened. Wait. Was… was he…?

“I set my sights on you,” Ignis sang, after the first verse had blended with the sizzling roar of the frying pan. “And no one else will do.”

Prompto’s eyes widened.

Ignis? Singing? In their kitchen?

This rare event needed to be recorded. But dammit, of course he didn’t have his phone on him. And then, as if the singing hadn’t been enough of a rarity on its own, there came the hip shimmy not long after to accompany it.

“Open up your lovin’ arms, watch out, here I come.” Ignis tossed the vegetables he’d just chopped into the frying pan, a contented hiss spitting upon impact.

Prompto grinned.

“You spin me right ‘round baby, right ‘round,” Ignis continued. “Like a record baby, right ‘round, ‘round ‘round.”

Holy crap, Prompto hissed internally. His hands balled into fists as his grin grew wider. Ignis is singing along to Dead or Alive. While cooking.

Ignis turned on his heels, spinning in a little half circle before he reached for an egg. His foot tapped on the floor, the sharp clink of the egg cracking against a bowl syncing to the beat of the music.

And with that, Prompto couldn’t take it anymore. Amusement brimmed through him, drawing him over to his partner like a magnetic pull. He briskly left his temporary hiding spot and skidded into the kitchen, sliding on his socks as he belted out the next lines of the song.

“I got to be your friend now, baby; and I would like to move in just a little bit closer,” Prompto crooned, doing a twirl of his own; a performer in front of his one-man audience on the stage that was the kitchen floor.

Ignis, startled, practically jumped ten feet in the air, spatula in hand as he held it in front of himself in a defensive stance. “P-Prompto,” he stuttered, eyes wide in surprise. He glanced at the radio, as if he were debating turning it off and erasing the last one minute and thirty seconds from this timeline, but before he had a chance to, Prompto approached him.

“All I know is that to me---” Prompto sang, reaching his hands out toward Ignis.

“Prompto---”

“---you look like you’re having fun---” Prompto stepped close, tilting up on his tiptoes so their noses nearly touched.

“What are you---”

“Open up your loving arms, watch out, here I come!”

Prompto snatched the spatula away from Ignis, dropping it on the counter with a discarded clunk. Taking both of the man’s hands hostage, he pulled Ignis closer to himself and gave him a quick kiss. “You spin me right ‘round, baby, right ‘round,” he sang, the grin returning to his face.

Ignis laughed, a gentle titter that made Prompto’s heart sing a song of its own. “Prompto, just what are you doing?” he asked, his pitch higher than normal.

“Like a record baby, right ‘round, ‘round ‘round,” Prompto continued, lifting their arms as he twirled Ignis around in a circle. He winked as he placed a hand on Ignis’ shoulder.

Ignis was still laughing, and after the initial shock of being caught in the act wore off, suddenly, they were dancing. Each drag of their feet and tap of their heels to the rhythm sent their bodies gliding about the kitchen floor, moving as one. Prompto was in the lead to start, keeping up his singing, but after another line or two Ignis took over the dancing lead while Prompto gave a little “ooooh” in delight.

Then, while Ignis dipped Prompto low to the ground, they became a duet.

“I want your looooooooooooove,” they belted out in unison. Ignis kept the note going, and while Prompto tried to keep it up, he failed, voice breaking with a burst of laughter.

Ignis swooped Prompto upright again, another full turn to follow before he snatched him up in his arms, lifting him clear off the floor. Right ‘round, round round. “I want your looooooooove,” Ignis continued. Prompto was long gone at this point, unable to continue singing. He laughed so hard his stomach hurt, body shaking as he clung to Ignis, pure joy radiating from him.

A few more right ‘rounds later and the song came to an end at last. Prompto, still elevated off the floor, found himself face to face with his taller partner, his arms wrapped around his neck. He tried to catch his breath, but the sight of Ignis’ smiling visage in front of him halted the process.

“Good morning, Prompto,” Ignis greeted cheerfully, his eyes sparkling. In the background, the radio mumbled with the utterings of a radio announcer, an intermission between songs.

“Hey,” Prompto replied. He couldn’t help but laugh again, smiling sweetly as he gave Ignis a kiss. His heart swelled in his chest, amplified with the usual warm fuzzy feelings Ignis often gave him. “Oh man, you and I, I think we’ve got a future in show business, dude.”

“Oh? And what would the name of our double act be?” Ignis inquired lightly.

“Burning Skillet.”

“Oddly specific, don’t you think?”

“Not really, I think it’s plenty appropriate. By the way, I think your skillet is burning.”

And it was. Ignis’ eyes widened, setting Prompto down on his feet immediately so he could tend to the stove. “Drat,” he muttered. “I knew there was a reason why I didn’t listen to the radio much.”

Prompto rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “My bad. Sorry, babe. Don’t worry though, I’ve got this.” He headed for the counter so he could start chopping up more vegetables.

While he worked at replacing the vegetable sacrifice, the commercials came to a halt as yet another ‘80s synth beat blared from the speakers. Feet began to tap on the linoleum from both parties. Heads bobbed, fingers snapped.

“Sweet dreams are made of this,” Ignis gently sang, standing over the garbage can as he scraped burnt food off the skillet’s surface. The spatula scraped back and forth, back and forth, in time with the music.

Prompto’s lips quirked upward, glancing over his shoulder at his partner. Chop, chop, chop, went the knife, the rhythm flowing naturally, much like the sliced tomato’s juices under his knife. “Who am I to disagree?”

#prompto argentum #ignis scientia #promnis #promnisweek #writing #mine #promnis week

[sapphicdalliances]

Dear Chocolatier,

thank you so much for being here!! my sincere apologies for the lateness and messiness of this letter! sorry about my incredibly inconsistent capitalisation! it has been updated on the 9th of january.

I’m a simple bitch with simple tastes; here is a general summary of my preferences, and fandom-specific notes and prompts can be found further down!

I very much enjoy:

Fics that are short, but imply a longer, deeper verse; since this exchange is for short fics, but some of my prompts seem expansive, I just want to give you carte blanche permission to dip into an AU, splash around in it, and simply not provide additional details.

Comedic tones, slice-of-life, lighthearted fun, any amount of improbable romcom tropes

Am also on board with misunderstandings and drama as long as there is a happy ending!

I’m deeply okay with AUs, and most likely would be down for any modern, romcom, fantasy/fairytale, gender swap, or remix/crossover AUs you feel inspired to explore! My favourite settings include mundane/urban fantasy (witches! werewolves!), anachronism-stew-with-magic western fantasy jumbles, and disney’s Tangled.

Writing tropes I love:

Proposal fic

Wedding fic where the couple getting married is not the main couple

Outsider/third character POV of the main couple

Exes who are still in love/getting back together

Friends-with-benefits-with-feelings/did a bad job keeping it casual

Shipfic where two or more couples are contrasted

Oblique declarations of love/saying i love you without saying i love you

Provision and caretaking (acts of service!)

Aggressive matchmaking/wingmanning by an enthused friend

Hanahaki, or any other improbably dramatic instances of Cannot Spit It Out

Arranged marriage/fake marriage/fake dating

Epistolary fic

Regrettably I also love a/b/o, especially the kind that emphasises on scent safety and contains little to no actual sex

Art tropes I love, if you offered art:

Art where the characters look kind and fond

Fashion remixes – street fashion, cultural/traditional clothes, festival clothes, renfaire-esque clothes, beach photoshoot, get wild with it

Putting animal characteristics on one or both of them

Botanical motifs + celestial motifs

When plants grow directly out of people

The thing where character A is focused on something they’re doing or seeing, and the character B is focused only, wholly, desperately on A. please… the Gaze

Depictions of intimacy where faces are partially or fully hidden, but the body language is gentle

Characters SLEEPING next to each other, or comfortably doing separate activities in each other’s presence

If you wish to get frisky with your fills:

Yes!

Go for it!

I don’t have strong top/bottom preferences (and enjoy it when they switch or are otherwise generally equitable) so whatever you’re in the mood for is fine!

Kink tropes I very much enjoy include oral, restraints, praise kink, when proud characters cry during sex because they love their partners so much, and xeno tropes.

I love non-horny sex scenes; comedic, silly, charged, fraught, or simply affectionate exchanges that happen to include sex are my favourite. Feelings are the real kissing disease.

But like, if you wanna get horny about it.

Chase your bliss.

They simply must be in love.

I’m not as into:

Kidfic

First person narration

Soulmate AUs specifically

Kink wise, my only major squicks are incest, teacher/student, and public sex/getting caught, but i’m also not super keen on daddy kink, blood/piss/etc, or anything with blades or needles.

In general, please avoid:

Character death or serious/permanent injury

Animal abuse or death

Infidelity

Hopeless or downer endings

Fandom specific info:

Wotakoi

I love that this series has three couples in different stages of a relationship: one who’ve been together for years and love each other like well-worn grooves; one who have history but have only just recently begun a relationship and are discovering each other anew; and one who probably will not bring themselves to share a kiss for another 27 calendar years.

Narumi/Hirotaka: Honestly, the main couple of a series usually goes over my head a bit, but the more i thought about these two the more wretchedly fond of them I became. The thing I think of the most is how Narumi taught him how to smile as a child; how she did things that meant nothing to her, so easily does kindness come, but that meant so much to him; and how now that they are grown, he does things for her that take no effort, but shake her foundations. I think theirs is a love that grows quietly; something that cannot change the world, but can change them.

Koyanagi/Kabakura: My thoughts on these two are not complex, but they are deeply positive. I love how huge their personalities are, and how they fit around and against each other; I love the implication that despite their endless bickering, they are not an on-again-off-again kind of relationship, and have instead chosen each other over and over again for ten straight years. I love that despite everything, they are kind to each other, first and foremost; they find ways to apologise and to take care of each other, and treat each other gently in private.

Kou/Naoya: I love every ship in this manga equally but perhaps I love Kou/Naoya more equally than the other two? They are just so kind and so silly, and so sweet to each other in exactly the way both of them didn’t realise they were missing. I think about Naoya being told that Kou is “okay with being alone”, and realising that “okay with it” and “have accepted it” are different, and taking his little baby steps to fix it. I think about Kou giving Naoya every last drop of patience he’s trained himself not to accept, and doing so because it simply makes her happy. My only concern is that they are both bottoms. I don’t have a solution for this.

suggested prompts, fic:

- accidentally dating ft. Kou and Naoya, or, “and you’ve made out how many times now? Hmm. Yeah, that’s not technically a bromance.” - 5 times Hirotaka and Narumi almost, almost kissed, and 1 time they did; the unresolved romantic tension may kill me and it would be worth it - what Hirotaka and Narumi taught each other (apart from the more mundane gaming and life skills, i believe that she taught him how to smile and be loved by others, and he taught her how to be loved by herself!) - smutty domesticity ft. Koyanagi and Kabakura — a lazy Sunday, laundry in the sun, fucking on the couch, everything easy with familiarity - (addendum to above: pegging)

suggested prompts, art: - festival clothes - someone's getting married - naoya: *hands kou a tangerine* *hands kou a tangerine* *hands kou a tangerine* *hands kou a tangerine* *hands kou a t - red string of fate motifs

Or please do remix it with any of my general tropes listed above!

Nezha (2019)

So, wow, Nezha and Aobing are in love maybe? It drives me nuts to think about these two extremely powerful and extremely lonely boys finding each other by happenstance and instantly giving to each other something they’ve never had before. Sometimes you live most of your life without the presence of the other half of your literal soul and when you find him it’s like discovering true happiness for the first time, and that’s valid? Some people brazenly sacrifice themselves for the chance to spend a last moment with their soulmate to cope??

suggested prompts: - modern AU: delinquent Nezha and prim, proper exchange student Aobing - modern AU addendum: nobody believes Nezha when he says he’s got a hot boyfriend in Taiwan and thinks that he has made Aobing up - pwp with xeno tropes? yeah

suggested prompts, art: - lesbians AU. lesbians AU. AU where they are lesbians now. - mer aobing. mer aobing. AU where aobing is a mer-dragon now - KISSING - pwp with xeno tropes, again

Or please do remix it with any of my general tropes listed above!

Otoyomegatari

im skipping this section for now because i checked and im literally the only one who offered it. you’re not here to feed me otoyomegatari, and that’s fine.

Fire Emblem: Three Houses

i haven’t, uh, played this game? and i have not, in fact, watched anyone else play this game. but really, i don’t know that fire emblem is a thing you understand with your mind so much as it is a thing you feel with your soul. and i feel that ferdinand and hubert are in love.

fandom specific DNW: i am not a huge fan of how the game handled its fantasy racism, so if you could sort of avoid that whole situation, that’d be great. literally would love an AU where ingrid and hilda aren’t racist.

Ferdinand/Hubert: THEY LIKE EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND IT’S SO VERY EMBARRASSING FOR BOTH OF THEM, just terrible, i can barely bring myself to look upon it. An important part of their rls to me is that they both have other things they value far more than each other, on an intrinsic, instinctive level; it does not make them love each other less, just differently. They are both so very dramatic in different, equally stupid, ways. ferdinand has one dimple in his right cheek, emits UV rays when he smiles, and loves horses and singing. hubert is sexy but in a way mostly reminiscent of the empty shed skin of a venomous spider. together, they fight classism

Dimitri/Dedue: like this

Dimitri: I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you Dedue: I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for YOU [5 years of soulful gazes and dimitri making increasingly drastic and ineffectual attempts at seduction]

Hilda/Claude + Hilda/Claude/Lorenz: the sex is good. the statecraft? even better. i love trios where all 3 characters love each other equally.

suggested prompts: - ferdinand and hubert making bare skin-on-hair contact and immediately bursting into flame - dedue: your highness, let me teach you how to garden. dimitri, internally: oh, to be a speck of wet soil clinging to the warm, calloused skin of dedue's hands! - gee claude, how come your mum lets you have TWO tops? - hilda, strapping it on: urgh you're making me WORK

suggested prompts, art-specific: - outfit swaps ALWAYS fun - modern AUs also always fun - horse

Or please do remix it with any of my general tropes listed above!

Haikyuu!!

changed my life, cured my depression, what can be said about it? fwiw i am completely caught up with the manga and indeed to remain caught up for the duration of this exchange so nws about spoilers; of course i am also happy if you want to play around earlier in the timeline!

suggested prompts: - kagehina or iwaoi dealing with LDR - kyouhaba are forced to cooperate on an innocuous, preferably wholesome task, such as gardening, or finding the owner of a lost dog, and it goes, As One Would Expect - bokukuroo + overheard phone conversation: and you've slept together how many times now? hmm. yeah, that's not technically a bromance (not in a no-homo way, just in a we-are-both-so-stupid-and-like-each-other-so-much-way) - actually that overheard phone conversation would work for any of these ships

suggested prompts, art-specific: - put some wings on some of them. now it's bird romance, which is for birds - (i lied, this isn't art-specific at all, wingfic is always welcome in any of its forms) - just pick up your whole boyfriend and carry him like that. give the smooch.

Or please do remix it with any of my general tropes listed above!

Ace Attorney

i laughed for 2 straight minutes about there being no klapollo in the noms but this is fine, narumitsu is good. a thing I think about a lot re: narumitsu is that they are one of those love stories where, like, yes they’re in love. that’s not the problem. no matter what conflicts arise, or for what reasons they cannot be together, the fact that they are in love, and choose to remain in love, is never even doubted. i just really want to assert that i do not personally believe that miles nor phoenix have ever done anything on purpose in their lives except continue to be in love with each other.

suggested prompts:

- proposal fic - wedding fic - attending-a-wedding fic (gumshoe & maggey, before they're married? apollo and klavier, after they're married? franziska and adrian? not terribly picky on the background couple here!) - wedding night fic and they're both 35 so just, honestly, the back pain - honeymoon fic - also anything from when they were little, standalone or in conjunction with/comparison to their adult lives!

suggested prompts, art-specific: - so what if phoenix is a liddol hedgehog and miles is a cat in a cravat. just a thought.

Or please do remix it with any of my general tropes listed above!

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-Kun

seowaka: they are idiots, and they like each other very much, but they do not know. i love a tall crying boy and his short but much more powerful girlfriend.

chiyo/nozaki + chiyo/nozaki/mikorin: im rooting for her in the face of such overwhelming stupidity. one himbo is difficult enough to seduce but two. chiyo is a hero and a woman of rare courage. i like the pair and the trio equally; again, if you go with trio, it’s important that they all love each other please!

suggested prompts: - 5 times any of these ships went on a date without realising, and the time they realised - urban fantasy AU where Waka is a hapless monster hunter and Seo is an annoying but deeply harmless werewolf who’s been terrorizing his town?? - fairytale AU where Seo believes she must rescue the prince from the tower and deliver him back to the kingdom capital, and the prince, who had not realised he’d been kidnapped, thinks Seo is a usurper from a rival kingdom who must be supervised all the way back to the kingdom capital to be served her justice

suggested prompts, art-specific: - festival clothes… - nozaki carrying chiyo, who's carrying mikorin - (seo carrying waka) - waka sleeping peacefully in seo's presence… :'(

Or please do remix it with any of my general tropes listed above!

we made it through all the fandoms.

Thank you for making it to the end of this whole disaster; I hope at least one of the prompts sparked joy! The most important thing to me is that whatever you end up doing, you are able to enjoy the process at least somewhat, and deliver a creation that you like! I can also be found on twitter at @hawberries_ (for art) and @popplioikawa (for general ramblings). If you need some more inspo, I recommend going through my art tags for the selected ships because I put a lot of Opinions into my fanart.

#shit fuck im SO sorry i had to finish a DEADLINE #shut up phee #chocbox