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#i miss him i should write him again

crown-ov-horns · 12 days

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I was looking through my notes for Good Omens fanfiction, and realized almost every damn story includes Crowley having a baby.

There's the one where Heaven and Hell decide to use an angel baby carried by a demon as a diplomatic tool, leading into Crowley being protected by Michael, and them falling in love.

There's the one where she leaves her baby with Anathema and disappears, which triggers all the following events - from the search, to Aziraphale's trial, and everything else.

There's the one where she has to supply the new Antichrist, which leads to her and Lucifer falling in love, and her being crowned the Queen of Hell. (Well, this one is really two stories set in different timelines, in the second one the "baby" is like 27)

In the one inspired by a dream, she does have a baby eventually, but that's far from the worst thing that happens to her. Gabriel's treatment of her after is... How the Hell will I write this damn thing if I can't even think about it.

There's no baby in the one where she gets tortured with diluted holy water.

I see I have no storyline with male Crowley just yet... Fine, that's not true. I do have some thoughts for Crowley x Fem!Lucifer... It could include a new Antichrist, too. And, Crowley wouldn't be the pregnant one for once. But, dealing with pregnant Lucifer would probably be even scarier.

#diary pages #writing journal #fanfiction writer #ao3 writer #good omens fanfiction #good omens fandom #crowley #good omens crowley #lady crowley #fem!crowley #writers on tumblr #writer life #ffs what's with me and torturing miss/mr. snake #she's either pregnant or she's in some horrible situation or actually it's both #yes i feel damn guilty for doing that but i can't help it #in first two bullet points the dad is aziraphale but he screws up (without even knowing it) so michael steps in...#in the first one and not immediately as a love interest at first just as a protector #don't worry she's in on using the kid for politics and crowley know's there's drama #the second i'd rather not spoil because of the detective/investigation plot #hey but she chose michael herself she was supposed to be with hastur #in the antichrist one all is obvious and honestly it's one of those “good for her” stories for crowley #but in the time jump she is kind of riddled with worry for maxine fearing she'll burn out and so on #grr the dream storyline... the dad is gabriel and don't worry in the end she ditches him i can spoil that this story is so heavy #this story is the ugly crowing jewel of my frustration with crowley saving aziraphale over and over again #what she does to protect him here almost ends up killing her or breaking her it's... seriously no idea how i'll write it #i'm also worried people will think i'm romanticising it when it's supposed to leave the reader sickened like i am #no comment on the holy water thing rn it's a simple hurtfic that develops into a survivor - the previous one is survivor in the end too #i haven't given too much thought for the crowley/f!lucifer but it should be good #fr hell would be so frustrated she chose this moron as her king consort but could do nothing about it #her pregnant would be SCARY - she's terrifying already... well terrifying and to die for

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sinestrosmind · 2 months

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Thank You for Saving Me

Summary: Fireclaw has thanked Sinestro many times for saving him. Now, it's Sinestro's turn to thank Fireclaw.

Warnings: Sinestro cries lmao

Characters: Topaz Fireclaw, Thaal Sinestro

Wordcount: 1,319

The sun was low in the sky, stars beginning to appear as night fell upon New Korugar's capital, and upon the surrounding forests. Deep within one of these forests, the leader of the Sinestro Corps and the second in command walked peacefully side by side.

The leader had many names by many others, harsh and most untrue in his eyes; tyrant, dictator, fear mongerer, traitor- name it, and he's been called it. In contrast, his corps called him their leader, their founder, and, his most preferred by them, Sinestro. To the rest of the corps, he was just that. He was just Sinestro. But, to the Levanixian walking beside him, a soft purr rumbling in his chest, he was far more.

The feline beside him called him many things too, and his favorite was whatever he chose to use at the time. Love, dear, babe, Thaal, even some more intimate names of which Sinestro cared not to share with anyone outside his and the Levanixian's shared personal quarters.

There's one, though, that Sinestro has noticed used rarely, only in times of darkness for the cat beside him. "Savior."

Sinestro didn't mind the name, he thought it fitting. After all, he did save Fireclaw. Gave him a new life, a new home, a new purpose. He did save him from his previous, cruel life. But whenever Fireclaw used the name, it always worried him. It was always used in times of darkness, of dispair, when the cat was battling a foe that Sinestro could not aid him with.

Today seemed to be one of those days, as despite Fireclaw's purring, Sinestro could see that he was lost in thought. His eyes heavy and dark, filled with sadness. This is why Sinestro had proposed going for a walk, to clear his love's head, to spend quality time together and continue to heal past wounds.

"Thaal?" Sinestro hears Fireclaw's quiet voice, laced with sadness. The Korugarian wraps an arm around Fireclaw's shoulders, gently pulling the Levanixian close to him. "Yes, Topaz?" Sinestro replies, gentle and loving and worried.

Fireclaw let himself be tucked under Sinestro's arm, welcoming the embrace and the warmth. "Thank you for saving me..." The Levanixian whispers, and he feels Sinestro's hold on him protectively tighten as tears begin to fall. "I don't know where I'd be right now if you didn't..."

"Anything for you, my dear," Sinestro reassures, and Fireclaw closes his eyes and leans into the Korugarian, tension visibly leaving his shoulders as he relaxed and let Sinestro guide him along. Let Sinestro lead him away from his troubles.

These walks continued, as they had before, whenever one or the other was feeling down for any reason they would take a walk deep into a New Korugarian forest together. Sometimes, Fireclaw would again thank Sinestro for saving him, or for being his savior, for the umpteenth time. And, again Sinestro would find some way immediately after, by accident or on purpose, to get Fireclaw to relax. For that tension to leave Fireclaw's body, and sometimes, eventually, for the Levanixian to fall asleep as they sat beneath a tree, or in a clearing under the vast night sky.

Other times, Fireclaw comforts Sinestro, leads the Korugarian away from his troubles as he does for him. Holds him close and hears him out, lets the Korugarian ramble on about whatever's bothering him at the time. Sometimes, Sinestro would thank Fireclaw for even loving him, for being there for him, for trusting him, putting his faith in him.

Though this time, tonight, as the sun set on New Korugar and gave way to the stars above, it wasn't Sinestro that found Fireclaw sad and alone, fighting enemies who cannot be seen nor touched. It was Fireclaw who found Sinestro, sitting near the outskirts of the new city, staring at the ground, lost in thought.

"Sinestro! There you are!" Fireclaw called as he slowed from a lazy lope to a trot, and then stopped beside the Korugarian. "I was worried about you," he said, bumping his head against Sinestro's shoulder in a greeting before giving the Korugarian a kiss on the cheek. "What's on your mind?" Fireclaw felt no need to point out the obvious with a "you look sad," instead jumping right to the point. And it seemed Sinestro had little need, or want, for words at the moment, as he wrapped his arms around Fireclaw and pulled the Levanixian onto his lap, burying his face into thick orange fur.

In turn, Fireclaw wrapped his arms around Sinestro, holding his love close to him. "Thaal, sweetheart," Sinestro hears the cat say, gentle, worried, caring, full of love. And that's all it takes for a sob to cause Sinestro's form to shake. He clings to the Levanixian in his arms, fingers digging into fiery fur as if his life depended on it. And right now, if Sinestro were honest, he felt as though his life did depend on keeping Fireclaw as close to him as possible.

As another sob racks the Korugarian's body, Fireclaw gently comforts him. Rubbing his back, littering kisses all over his head, and whispering gentle words to try to soothe him. It's a while before Sinestro's crying eases to something he can breathe through, something he could manage to speak through. All the while, though, Fireclaw continues to try to ease Sinestro's pain the best he can.

Shivers take hold of Sinestro, Fireclaw can feel them travel through his form. And, as Sinestro finally lifts his head from Fireclaw's neck, as Sinestro finally looks at Fireclaw, Fireclaw sees how exhausted Sinestro is. He see how tired his eyes appear, alongside how irritated they are. He sees how flushed Sinestro's face is. And, when Sinestro speaks, the exhaustion is thick in his voice.

"I love you." Sinestro tells Fireclaw after a moment of staring into the Levanixian's loving, worried, forgiving eyes, his voice heavy and weak with exhaustion and hoarse from crying. "I love you." He says again, as he buries his face again in Fireclaw's fur. And Fireclaw begins to shower Sinestro in gentle kisses again, whispering an "I love you too" to him.

It's a little bit before Sinestro speaks again, when the tremors mostly have died down, when he's mostly relaxed and allowing exhaustion to begin to take hold of him. "You thank me for saving you," Sinestro starts, and Fireclaw listens closely. "Call me your savior... But you don't realize," Sinestro lifts his head to look into Fireclaw's eyes, relaxing once their gazes met. "That you saved me, too." Sinestro again buries his face in Fireclaw's fur, getting comfortable once again as he rambles off whatever comes to his mind.

"I thought I'd never love again. Thought I'd never be loved again." Sinestro mutters, tightening his hold on Fireclaw. "I thought I'd never feel complete again. Never have a family again..." Sinestro continues to ramble on, muffled by Fireclaw's fur.

The two sat where they were, Sinestro kept his face buried in Fireclaw's fur, and Fireclaw kept his arms around Sinestro, rubbing his back and whispering gentle words to Sinestro to comfort him. Sinestro continues to ramble on, eventually devolving to muttering words of praise and terms of endearment. "My savior." Sinestro had started, barely a whisper. "I love you."

And Fireclaw remained by his side, remained in his arms, remained holding him close, continued to reassure him, to comfort him. Until exhaustion took hold, and Sinestro's breathing leveled, his voice falling quiet.

When Fireclaw was sure Sinestro was soundly asleep, he carefully untangled himself from Sinestro's arms and then picked the sleeping Korugarian up, taking him to their bedroom where he'd be safer. Where he'd be comfortable and warm. Where, when he wakes in the morning, Fireclaw will be curled up by his side, arms around him, head on his chest, exactly how things should be. Exactly how he wants things to be.

#⭑🛠⭑ Hey what are words again I forgor { My Writing }#DC Comics #DC OC #DC #⭑🛠⭑ Hyperfixation est. 2015 { DC Comics }#⭑🛠⭑ A sadness runs through him { Thaal Sinestro }#⭑🛠⭑ baby’s first sona that ACTUALLY STAYED hey look at that { Fireclaw }#aaaaalright this should be the last thing before I post the commissions post thing #bc BOY do we need RENT #but hey #more New Beginnings #maybe I'll draw some of these two again some time #or post work from like 2019 for them #I should draw Fireclaw in general more often tbh I miss him

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kimjiwoong · 10 months

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i'm bad at birthday gifsets so there's none from me but i hope everyone knows that ever since i got into kpop and found taemin i've been mesmerized by his talent and just him as a creative person. his vision and his thoughts. so it's always... idk. i talk about a bunch of ppl on here and sometimes i sound crazy and overexcited abt the entire world but not many can share a spot with lee taemin in terms of how strongly i wish them warmth and happiness and relaxation and love and fun and all those nice nice things

#it's been almost 6 years of tae.min love and support can u believe #(should be 6 years of shi.nee love and support but i'm stupid ok?)#anyways i needed a place to write my thoughts cause like ksdjlasf tae.min makes me emotional for some reason sometimes #i worried a lot abt him during his enlistment and i love that i get to see him again #we all get to bask in his art i guess or whatever lmao god im like.. embarrassing but it's FINE #he's just dear to my heart in ways i don't think i rly show #on here at least #has been and will be important #also just him being my gateway drug to shi.nee #as if i didn't already love him before as a soloist #but as w every shi.nee member something feels off if u don't listen to the group too. it's like a missing puzzle piece #ANYWAYS #rose.txt

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bosspigeon · 1 year

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The Heart Doesn't Lie

what's up catch me reposting old DA fic i wrote in 2017 instead of writing anything new 😎ft the art by @styliferous that actually encouraged me to finish it! <3

It takes time, of course. It takes time, and planning, and a fair amount of Wynne’s secret wine stash that she thinks no one knows about, to gather up the courage necessary to do what needs to be done–to say what needs to be said.

The camp is near-silent when he does it, everyone tucked away in their tents, resting up for the battle they can all feel creeping closer with each passing day. None of them say it, of course, but it hangs over them all. Their forces are growing, and soon, they will take their support to Denerim, to challenge Loghain, and then further, to challenge the Archdemon and the Blight itself.

Sten is seated by the fire, stripped out of his armor but not settling in for bed just yet. He sits, silent and unmoving as stone, and Barktholomew’s heavy head rests comfortably atop his knee. It’s a bit comforting to see his hound there, and he’s not sure why. Maybe it’s because, of all the people who are relying on him now, his dog is the easiest to accept. He’s been told all his life how stalwart mabari are, how their trust is rarely misplaced, and it makes his stomach feel strangely warm knowing that, even if he screws up, he’ll still have the faith of his loyal hound.

Or maybe he’s just drunker than he thought.

“Sten,” he says, blinking a bit to clear his eyes. He’s standing right in front of him now, and even seated on the hard-packed dirt, the qunari’s head easily clears the highest point of his hips.

He looks up almost lazily, and his sharp lilac eyes fairly glow in the firelight. The breath leaves Andrael’s lungs in a rush, and he is very suddenly aware of the heat high in his cheeks.

“Yes, kadan? What do you need?”

There it is. That word again. Kadan. He says it so easily. Just as easily as he says anything else. Plain and flat, no flourish, no inflection. But Andrael is not stupid, and when he gets it in his head to learn something, he will chase every shred of knowledge wherever he has to find it. It got him in plenty of trouble back in the Circle, and he’s sure, if he survives this Blight, it will continue to get him into trouble out in the world. He knows what it means now, to be kadan, and it dredges up so many feelings inside every time the word passes Sten’s lips.

“I know what it means,” he blurts, and he’s not quite tipsy enough not to be embarrassed by the way it falls clumsily from his mouth. “I found a book. An old one. It had... words in it.”

“Like many books, one would assume,” Sten returns without pause, heavy brows lifting slightly in the faintest indication of amusement.

Andrael snaps his mouth closed again, feels the heat creeping beyond his cheeks and towards his ears. He clenches his fists at his side, curls and uncurls his fingers as if trying to grasp at the thread of the conversation he fears he’s already lost before it’s even begun. An errant breeze makes him wobble a bit, and he plants his feet a bit more firmly, before he inhales deeply, puffing out his chest and doing his best to look the qunari square in the eye– but then he compromises with himself and looks at Sten’s mouth instead, and even though it makes his stomach squirm for a different reason, he decides it’s close enough.

“Qunari words,” he amends, tugging at the pockets of his loose nighttime trousers. “The- Um, th-the book, I mean. It had qunari words. What they mean. Like a, um. L-like a dictionary?”

Sten’s face is nigh unreadable, but that’s hardly new. And with the alcohol in his blood, Andrael is feeling marginally more bold than usual. Somewhere between baby deer and larger-than-average nug, maybe. Sten doesn’t say anything, doesn’t blink.

“I know... know wh-what you mean, when you say... k-kadan?” He fumbles the unfamiliar word, the syllables heavy on his too-loose tongue.

“I was not aware it was a mystery to be solved,” Sten offers.

“You can’t say that!” he shouts, claps a hand over his mouth and whips his head around to make sure he hasn’t woken anyone by accident. He continues, voice carefully lowered. “You can't just… Just say that, when you know. And now I know! A-and it's... Do you… What does it mean?” He's vaguely aware he's not really making sense, but too addled and flustered to really do anything about it.

Sten makes something close to an expression, but Andrael can't figure out where it falls on the usual scale of faces Sten makes that aren't anger and bland disapproval. Faint confusion, perhaps? “You said you know what it means. Why ask if you already know?”

“Because I… I know what it means i-in general!” he exclaims helplessly. He's wringing his hands now, twisting his fingers and trying to keep them from fidgeting about too much and failing miserably. “I know… I know what it means o-on paper. But not… not what it means to– What it means to you.” He swallows hard, and finds that his eyes are on the ground now, and he can't bring himself to lift his head and look at those piercing mercurial eyes and see what they hold. Not enough liquid courage, he supposes. “Language… is, um. It’s complicated? Doesn't always… mean what it means, right?” He shakes his head, but that just makes him feel dizzier, floatier. He's starting to lose his buzz, and with it, his nerve. He makes one last bid for it, takes a deep, deep breath and tries to steady his quaking nerves. “What… does it mean to you?”

Sten still looks… like Sten, like he’s carved from stone, his expression carefully blank. Barktholomew is sitting up now, looking between them. Sensing something amiss. He seems to ponder a moment before he shoves his nose between Andrael’s grasping, fidgeting hands and gives him something to do with them other than fret. It helps quite a lot, actually, steadies him. His heart slows down a bit and doesn’t feel so much like a panicked rabbit’s, thumping away in his narrow chest.

“It means many things,” Sten rumbles once the silence has stretched out so taut and still it shakes Andrael to his core. “It can mean many things.” He almost sounds hesitant, and it’s strange to hear from someone so blunt. “It is a term of endearment, I am sure you know, but it is… difficult to explain.” “Try,” Andrael says, breathless, fearful, though he’s not quite sure why. The heat suffusing his face has spread down his neck and now he sort of feels uncomfortably warm all over. “Please,” he adds weakly.

“It means… someone who is dear. Important.” Sten’s brows furrow a bit, as if he’s trying to find the right words. “The center of the chest, where the heart lies. If it is gone, your life is lesser for it.” He looks down, pensive, then back up again. “You have done a great deal for me, kadan. Things you did not have to do. That means something.” Suddenly, his expression looks much less stoic, the lines and angles of his face softening into something tender… intimate. Andrael feels as if he shouldn’t be seeing it, it’s so unguarded. “To me, kadan is someone who makes me feel like I am home, even if I am thousands of miles from everything I’ve ever known.”

There is always a measured weight to Sten’s words; he says nothing without first thinking on it at length. He does not like to speak without meaning, to waste breath on frivolities and untruths. Still, to hear him say such things, as heavy and insistent as ever, strikes Andrael’s chest in a way that leaves him breathless. He falls to his knees as if borne by the weight of the words alone, and flings his arms loosely around the qunari’s broad, bare shoulders, hiding his burning face in the crook of his neck.

For a moment, just one breathless moment, Sten’s body is as hard and unyielding as stone. And then, it passes, and he is just as much flesh as Andrael, with a surprising amount of give considering his powerful warrior’s build. He holds steady as the elf slumps against him, unable to hold his own weight anymore. “Y-you can’t mean that,” he whispers, thick with tears just beginning to overflow down his cheeks. “You can’t…” He’s not sure what else he would have said, can’t quite choke out anything more. The only sound he can get to pass his lips is a broken little whimper that erupts from his chest when Sten’s big, strong hand splays across his shoulder blades and holds him closer still.

“The heart does not lie, kadan,” Sten murmurs. Andrael can feel the thunder of his words shared between them where their chests are pressed tight together. “You mean a great deal to me.” And the simple, blunt honesty of that is devastating. Andrael trembles, feels as if he’s going to come apart at the seams without Sten holding on to him like he is.

The firelight is warm on his back, Sten’s hands even warmer, and he can even feel Barktholomew settling in beside them, his thick furry bulk pressing against Andrael’s leg. He thinks, warily, that the world will be tilting and unsteady and a bit nauseating when he opens his eyes, but, lucky for him, there’s no need for that at the moment, not with Sten’s arms around him and that word– kadan– echoing like a heartbeat in his ears.

#dragon age #dragon age: origins #sten #surana #i just found this in my docs after Literal Years and tbh i still kind of love itt?#reposted with minimal editing so like... sorry ghjdkslg #i wanna write again so bad so #ANYWAY this wasj ust a result of me thinking of my boy andrael and how interesting it would be for him and sten to get together #is this a world where zevran isnt his LI or is zevran cheering his man on from the sidelines #you decide!#oc: andrael surana #i miss dragon age #maybe i should just write dragon age fic again #pidge writes #yes andrael named his dog barktholemew #let him live

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dine-on-darling2 · 11 months

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I've gotten way into T-rigun since watching T-rigun S-tampede, and I can say that my fucking Supreme huspred is Vash. Holy shit I want that guy to devour me. Most nameless posts I make are probably lowkey about him 😂

#I should try properly writing for him and Darling #I do want to write vore again #like shall we vore and T-wisted W-onderland too and other characters and oc stuff I have in mind #after semester burnout tho 😂#I want to talk about vore with people again miss that #send me asks here maybe lmao

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