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#if all these prompts are going to be 1500 + words I do not know how fast i will finish them
hazelfoureyes · 2 months
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Have you ever thought about the idea of a Clueless ace reader x ace alastor trying to figure out what all the fuss is about? Couple different ways it could go obviously but I feel like it would be a perfect comedy smut
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Thank you for this meal. Okay I know this is LOOSELY based on your prompt, please forgive me. Can I add in that they be a little tipsy?
After a few drinks, you and Alastor do your usual teasing and mimicking of the others dramatic displays of physical affection. But, unusually, Alastor seems to be really invested in the joke tonight…
Warnings/promises: light smut (fingering), wrong kind of haha, sconces, bad Angel accent, Under 1500 words
maybe the tag list? Works list: @ xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx
Alastor list: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
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Fuck Joke Around and Find Out
The evening started with drinks among the group gathered at the bar. Everyone talking, sipping, leaning into each other to be heard better. Vaggie’s fingers playing with Charlie’s, Angel inching closer and closer to Husk until he was quite literally on top of him, to Husk’s obvious embarrassment. At some point, Angel took Husker’s hand, the two slinking down the hallway. Soon after, Vaggie not-so-discreetly followed a bouncing Charlie to their top floor home.
After realizing the couples snuck off, you turned to Alastor and asked, already smiling, “Oh I guess it’s our turn?”
Your giggling slipped into mutual cackles, his brows rose and he asked, “Your room or mine?”
You threw your leg over Alastor’s lap and straddled him, mustering your best Angel Dust accent, “Pssst rooms are for squares, baby.”
Normally, especially when having a little to drink, the physical barrier between each other was thin and easily toppled. An unspoken understanding had formed some time ago, allowing you both to relax a little more than usual when in close proximity. He still attempted his touchy intrusions to fluster and bother people, but he knew that didn’t work quite as effectively on you.
“Squares? Oh, not us.” A smirk, his head somewhat dramatically shaking a reinforced ‘no’, making his bobbed hair sway left and right.
When you start a pitifully-motivated grinding against him, losing balance and tipping backward, Alastor’s large hands come to the dip of your hips and still you. A laughed, accent-less, “Thanks, trying to do it like he did,” fell sloppily from your mouth, your hands going to his shoulders for extra security. Your head bent down, stifling another nervous giggle from spilling out. “I think this is exactly how Angel had Husk pinned. Not a convincin’ portrayal, pookie?” Your accent was shit, but he smiled all the same. His ears were pressed down and to the side, resting a little more against his skull than usual, something that seemed to happen often when he had a couple glasses. It looked more relaxed than his normal way of wearing them, but you never asked him about it.
Alastor’s finger tipped your chin upward, pulling you in for a kiss against his grin. When you huffed, fighting the awkward laugh, he swiped his tongue over your lips and slid into your mouth. A hum, as you relaxed into it. What a long joke this is, you think somewhere a little up and to the left of your liquor softened mind.
When alone together, you’d occasionally play around. Just mimicking what ridiculous things the other sinners had done recently, laughing and moving on to general gossip and conversation. Maybe the alcohol was dragging out the bit.
His hands pulled you forward, your little hip movements actually making contact with his crotch now. You hear yourself moan into his mouth before you even realize you’d made the noise.
Thinking becoming a little fuzzy, you pull back from him, “Oops. Sorry. Got carried away.”
“No need to apologize. What’s a little joking around between pals?”
You nod before a surprised shriek is forced out of you, Alastor pulling your hips down and starting to sincerely grind against you.
“I didn’t expect you to remember all the moves, Alastor.” Your hand came to your mouth trying to still the tremble of your lips as you spoke. Other hand now gripping his shoulder to stay upright. You’d never have played around with any one else but him like this. Too much confusion to deal with after. But, Alastor’s “playing” was so convincing. You weren’t minding it, to your surprise, but you weren’t sure you understood the source material as well he did.
His head fell back with a roar, “Being an infrequent lover doesn’t mean I am a bad one.”
Oh. Was the blush on your face noticeable in the dingy light of the parlor? You had never heard him say that word before. His hips were still moving, but the laughing stopped. It wasn’t unpleasant, in fact you found yourself sinking a little more, letting your weight settle fully. It earned you a sloppy half-smile from him. “That would make them experts, compared to us,” You motioned your head in the general direction of the stairs.
“You think so?”, he leaned up to kiss you, you leaned back a little, causing his lips to miss yours. A quick annoyed glare passed over his face before slipping back into a neutral stare, “Are you in the mood for a good joke tonight, dear? I wouldn’t be opposed to making you”, he grazed his nose against yours, “laugh.”
You let him capture your mouth with his, a surprisingly more intense kiss, before pulling away again when you caught another moan rising up, “I don’t mind a good laugh, now and then.” Did you-you say that or Angel-you?
The sofa cushions were pressing into your back before you could process what had happened. Alastor’s body was resting between your legs, which were spread open around him. His lips didn’t leave yours, one of his hands cradling your neck to trap you between him and his hungry mouth. The other was undoing the button of your pants and sliding under the band of your underwear.
His back was arched, his considerable height forcing him to bend over you if he wanted to continue the kiss, which he apparently did. Now on your back, you wiggled under him, awkward and uncertain what role you played anymore.
When his fingers slipped past your bottom lips and the mound of his hand ground into your clit, you pulled away from him and both hands shot to your mouth. You were aware you were in a public space but you couldn’t see anything past the sofa. Everything beyond him and the tattered chaise lounge was shadowy and lacking contrast. Even then, your heart was pounding.
When did the playing around shift? Was this—- did he think this was funny? His smile was strong against your neck still, but maybe not?
You splayed your fingers out to better hide yourself, embarrassed at how your hips rolled into his palm. Looking past your hands, you could see him staring down at you now, wide shoulders hiding you from the light of the sconces above. He had the same look as always in his eyes, nothing out of place. Cooly, he asked without actually wanting an answer, “Do you think this is what they’re doing now? Or is everyone already…”
A finger slipped down and into you, your legs clenching around his hips. You heard him sigh, before a second finger began to push in. Your hips lifted off the sofa and angled into his hand, welcoming the way he was pressing down and into you.
Oh, yeah, no.
A pent up moan tumbled past your lips when his fingers crooked up and pressed into the soft bundle of nerves just inside your entrance.
“What a curious laugh you have, my dear. Are my jokes that good?” He buried his face into the crook of your neck again when a voice stopped him from leaving the little marks he had been set on.
“I thought jokes were supposed to be funny. When is the funny part going to happen?”
Alastor’s ears were pin-straight into the air, hair stiff and sharp, as his face slowly turned to the side to see Niffty sitting at the bar.
”Oh, was I suppose to leave when everyone else did?” His hand slipped out of you and then in turn, your pants.
“No, Niffty, dear. That’s quite alright.”, Ears faced back and down, eyes half lidded and smile clearly forced, “We were just— playing around.”
“Really? Cuz it kinda looked like you guys were gonna fuck.” She hopped off the bar stool and scurried down the hall, “Please don’t dirty the sofa, sir.” echoing behind her.
You patted his shoulder, lifting yourself up on your elbows, “Can I be Husk next?”
I wrote this while washing dishes— the dishes aren’t very clean but neither am I
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lunesprite · 7 months
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@dca-prompts @simpalert
Original prompt:
Trying this a different way this time! ~1500 words today. Takes a little bit to get there, but I hope you enjoy it!
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Nothing ever happens on Wednesdays. Well. Not from the hours of midnight to 6am at least. 
It’s the perfect night to come back. 
Around and above you, the lights of the pizzaplex flick off, casting your path in wells of deep shadow between islands of neon glow. 
It was unsettling walking to your office the first few times. Management wanted you clocking in no more than five minutes before your shift officially began, and unless you sprinted from the time clock, there was no way in hell even that would get you from point A to your office down in the depths of the place before it got spooky in the pizzaplex. You used your phone flashlight for a bit - speed walking between neon streams and the glowing eyes of the ever-watchful wet floor bots - but, well. 
Then Moon stole your phone. 
It was your fault, to be fair.  
You’d been late, you’d been hurrying, you heard a noise behind you and instantly thought ‘horror movie’ and whipped around and uh. Kind of flashbanged him in the face from two inches away. In your defense, no one had ever bothered to tell you what the other night security was, or tell you that it had a mischievous streak a mile wide. 
So you figured you deserved it when he stole your phone and spent a good fifteen minutes suspended above you, sulking like a kicked cat before you gave up and stumbled your way to your office in the dark. And there, in between staring at the screen static of a completely empty plex, you decided to write him an apology. 
One, you wanted your phone back. You’d just paid it off. 
Two, call you a sucker, but he’d been kind of… cute? You’d never seen an animatronic sulk before and he’d sold it so well you’d really wanted to beckon him down and pet him. 
You left that bit out of the apology. Which was a good thing, because when you’d clocked off in the morning and slipped by the daycare looking for the guy with your actually neatly written letter of apology, sealed with a sticker and everything, Sun looked at you like you were about to grow a second head.
And then, insisting that he was just checking it over for you, read the whole damn thing. Out loud. With acting. 
You hadn’t been allowed to leave the tiny table he’d plonked you down at. 
You’d been so mortified, your brain didn’t even register it when he whipped out your phone from somewhere and made you re-enact the incident with him - except Sun, wearing a hat also produced from places unknown, followed up the flashbang with dramatic wailing on the floor. Smote down, cruelly wounded, etc. 
Which was all well and good, you’d said. But Moon’s was a lot cuter. 
Yeah. 
You know in those choice games, where like. Sometimes it brings up a notice? ‘There will be consequences for this action’? 
There were consequences for that action. You still don’t dare go to the daycare during operating hours. 
Sun, the menace, had gotten this gleam in his eyes and started howling and you fled like literal hounds were on your heels. 
You hadn’t expected to clock in late the next day, the lights off before you even made it to the time clock, and then turn around to Moon right there. 
And. Look, ok. 
He was too big to be in that pill box of a room. So he was kind of scrunched up a bit. Hunched in on himself, his hat more crooked than usual, long legs and arms drawn in like. Like a cat, sitting behind you, with those big red eyes watching you. 
He was cute. And you didn’t know about his and Sun’s whole situation - that liar - so you just. Did what you’d wanted to do the night before. 
You reached out and pet him and that big cat just melted. 
He made the deepest, happiest purr, eyes dimmed in contentment and next thing you knew, you were on the floor with an animatronic oozed across you, his face in your hands and his claws kneading the shitty carpet. Only, worse than a cat, there was no way to move the big cute lug to go anywhere. 
Once Moon cuddled, you were stuck. 
But you worked things out. 
As much as the two of you enjoyed sitting in your office, his chin resting on your thighs as you watched the security feeds and idly pet him or wiped him down, he did have to do patrol, so you’d made a deal. 
Wednesday, when nothing ever happened, Moon could come flop on you. 
It wouldn’t take him long to show up tonight. After all, you’d been gone last week - vacation - and it’d taken a lot of pacifying to get your sulky cat to accept he’d have to go without cuddles for one week. 
You unlock your office, flicking on the light switch beside the door and leave it open as you dump your overstuffed bag beside your chair and set your drink on your desk. If you didn’t keep the door open, Moon would claw at it. The exact same way a cat would paw at a closed door, except his are titanium and explaining it to management is a lot more… awkward. They always seem to expect so much more from your answers when they ask. 
You only manage to get the screens turned on and dig out the wipes from your bag - the scrubby ones, a little treat - before the lights overhead go out, leaving you in only the faint light of the security feeds. And when you turn, you try very hard not to laugh. 
All you can see are Moon’s eyes, staring accusingly in at you through the window beside the door. 
“I’ve wronged you,” you say, as solemnly as possible. 
His eyes narrow. 
“Truly,” you turn, pulling out the starry blanket and new pillow wedged into your bag. “I have been a most cruel friend, to leave you uncuddled for a week.” 
His claws creep around the edge of the doorway. 
Almost everything else, you pull out from assorted hiding places in your office. Pillows. Not one, but two giant sleeping bags, spread out across the floor as you shove your chair to the edge of the admittedly small space. By the time you’ve finished, fluffing up the sturdy pillow you sacrificed from your old couch, Moon sits in the doorway. 
Now for the final bribe. 
Under his watchful optics, you set the wipes on the floor near the couch pillow. And then your drink. And then, with a wink, you reach into the bottom of your bag. 
And pull out a massive power cord which you hold out in both hands, head bowed. 
His eyes gleam, a quiet cackle hissing from his voice box. 
“As an apology, please accept this offering of a night of cuddles and charging - just as long as you don’t blow up the circuits again.” 
“No promises,” he hisses, already slinking inside and burrowing under the top sleeping bag as you huff out a laugh, pushing aside a bit of shelving to reach the heavy duty plug hidden behind it. You plug in the stupidly heavy cable and drag it over to the jingling blanket lump, grinning as he pops out his head. Just like a cat, he takes up 90% of any surface he deems his bed, and you drop the cable on him with a clunk as you clamber over him to the other side to your stash of wipes and drink. 
The screens flicker as Moon plugs in the cable, and for a second you pause, wipe in hand, before he slinks an arm around your waist and plops his chin in your lap with a soft purr. 
You laugh softly, checking over the security feeds for a second before you tilt up his face, smiling at his dimmed eyes and take the wipe to his forehead. 
“I thought you were gonna knock us offline there, Moony.” 
“Mmmm.” He hums, curling his lanky form around you until you’re hemmed in, his arms deceptively loose around you. “Still thinking about it.” 
“I guess I’ll just have to convince you otherwise, hm? Can’t clean you up all nice if I can’t see a damn thing.” 
You pat his head, settling back into your pillows as Moon mumbles something and, slowly, as the trash can fills with dirtied wipes - your eyes flicking to the screens each time you grab a new one - his purr evens out. 
It’ll be a long night. Somehow, you suspect he’s not going to let you up until the end of your shift this time.
With a fond sigh, you hook an arm around him in turn, fiddling lightly with his hat as he snoozes and turn your eyes back to the wall of security monitors. His fingers rest loose and light against your sides. Every now and then, his claws twitch. His inner machinery ticks and whirrs lazily. 
He really is a sweet thing, underneath all that mischief. 
You almost want to kiss him. But, ah. This is enough, isn’t it?
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autistpride · 16 days
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Autism Acceptance
Prompt day 6: April 6
Amnesia AU
Word count: 1500
@wolfstarmicrofic
Remus was worried that his parents would say no. That they wouldn’t even listen to what he had to say and shut the conversation down. Remus knew he needed less support than he used to, but he was doing so well.
Remus had scripted his pitch in his head daily, sometimes multiple times a day, for the last week. As the number of days increased, so did Remus’ anxiousness. He began to pace and wring his hands. He started to withdraw and stopped speaking.
The change did not go unnoticed and finally Hope called a family meeting to have it out.
“Okay Remus, you’ve been wearing holes in the carpet again and I am pretty sure you should be wearing your compression gloves from how much swelling you’ve caused in your hands over the last week. What’s going on?”
Remus’ knees bounced and his hands clenched on the trousers of his pants. He took a breath and shook out his hands before he rose to his feet and started to move around the room in laps.
“I was talking with Sirius when we had our last date. We went to the skating rink and then had ice cream, you remember?” Remus asked pausing to look at his parents who sat together on the settee.
Lyall motioned with his hand to continue. Remus started to speak and then paused. He tried again and then again. His carefully planned out proposal instead fell from his lips in a single sentence that sounded more like a demand.
“Sirius asked me to move in with him and I want to do it!”
Sirius had asked him to move in with him and Remus wanted to. He wanted to so badly. They had been dating for three years now and while Sirius had his own struggles at times due to his traumatic childhood, he understood Remus in a way no one else ever had.
Sirius and him had met at an autism family event. He was there with his brother Regulus who Remus was sorta friends with already. Of course Remus hadn’t known that Regulus had a brother or that he was as handsome as he was until the day they met.
According to Regulus, it took Sirius two months to coax up the courage to ask Remus out. Remus didn’t believe him with how smooth Sirius was when he finally did ask. But apparently Sirius kept asking Regulus questions about Remus until Regulus got annoyed and dragged Sirius to their weekly autistic adult meet up at the library so Sirius could pester Remus instead of him.
“Okay,” Hope said softly from her place. Lyall smiled a half smile when Remus spun from his pacing and stared at her.
“Really?” he asked, surprised and trying hard not to let his excitement sound in his voice.
“Ya, really. You both have been together for over two years now. He knows your triggers and glimmers and I’ve watched him calm you down from a meltdown as well as support you through your shutdowns. Ya. I think if that’s what you both want, then you should do it. I just worry about your epilepsy dear.” Hope said honestly.
“Sirius knows what my tonic clonic seizures look like mam. He even went with me to my last EMU.” Remus pointed out.
“I know, but what if they get worse again?”
“Hope darling, you can’t keep Remus here forever just because you worry that someone else will ignore all the signs like what happened in the past. Sirius is a very kind and attentive partner. He won't hesitate to call Remus’ provider if he notices anything.”
Hope let out a sigh and stood, pulling Remus down to hug her. Remus mouthed a silent thank you to his da over her shoulder and Lyall returned the gesture with a thumbs up.
Now Remus just had to tell Sirius yes, pack up his stuff, and he would be all ready.
Two years later saw Sirius and Remus happily living together. Oh they had had their fair share of disagreements in the beginning. Remus has resorted to masking around Sirius because he was afraid Sirius wouldn’t love him if he saw the real him all day everyday and not just for their small dates and random sleepovers in the lounge of the Lupin home. This led to a slow shutdown. Sirius tried to communicate to Remus during that time, but Remus was nonspeaking and wouldn’t respond to Sirius’ texts outside of simple replies to questions like, ‘do we need milk?’ After five months, it resulted in a fight that blew up so spectacularly, Remus was surprised that the police hadn’t been called on them.
“Hey Sirius do you know if we ha-” Remus began to ask when his words stopped. His eyes blinked and his plate fell from his hands and clattered onto the floor before Remus shook his head slightly.
“What were you looking for?” Sirius asked as he knelt down to pick up the plate.
“Huh? I'm not looking for anything. Why do you have my plate?” Remus asked, annoyed and took his plate from Sirius’ hands and stalked back to the kitchen.
Sirius sat stunned for a moment before following Remus. “You were. You came in to talk to me about something. Started to ask if I knew if we had something but then you stopped.”
Remus blew the situation off, but the scene replayed in Sirius’ head over and over the rest of the day.
The next time it happened, Remus had been cooking. He was peeling potatoes for supper and that time Sirius ignored the forgetfulness and panicked over the fact that Remus had dragged the potato peeler over his finger and peeled some of his skin away.
The third time, Remus had just finished brushing his teeth and was putting his tooth brush away. Afterwards he argued with Sirius that he had not in fact brushed his teeth and proceeded to brush them a second time.
Multiple times a week Sirius noticed these little things. Forgetting to turn off the hob, looking for his shoes after just putting them on, feeding their cat Fidget two hours after feeding him the first time, and more incidents than Sirius could count of starting to say something and then just staring at Sirius for a moment and having no recollection on what he was saying or even wanting to say.
Sirius finally broke down and demanded that Remus speak to his provider. And despite telling Sirius he was worrying for no reason, Remus agreed and scheduled with them.
Three months more of waiting, where Sirius noted mentally everytime something would occur and then typing them into a long list in the notes app on his cellphone. Three months of Remus telling Sirius that he was wrong, that he didn't or wasn't doing something, and telling Sirius he felt fine.
Four months and another EEG confirmed that Remus’ epilepsy had gotten worse. He now had not one, but three types of seizures, and one of them was causing Remus to have a type of amnesia and the medication he was on was making the third type worse.
Five months and the medications Remus was on were completely different. It had taken a month to safely wean down on one medication and rise to a therapeutic dose with another. But the side effects of switching meds caused Remus to be irritable and lack any appetite. Sirius stuck by Remus’ side through it all and had taken to buying pizza once a week because it was the only food Remus would eat more than a few bites of.
Hope suggested and offered many times to have Lyall pack and move everything back into Remus’ old room so that Sirius wouldn’t have to deal with it. Each time though was met with a narrowed glare and a polite, “no thanks” from Sirius.
Six months and Remus was finally feeling more like himself, despite still not eating much. Remus had read over the list Sirius had made for his neurologist and apologised fiercely to Sirius for the way he had acted. He felt terrible and suggested couples counselling due to the fact that over those few months Sirius had withdrawn and seemed to walk on eggshells around him. Remus hated that he had caused Sirius to feel scared, gaslighted, and condescended to.
Nine months Remus and Sirius were communicating better. They had completed their couples sessions but both still continued on individually.
One year and the two were doing better than ever.
Two years on the new medication was also their seventh year together and one year with Remus’ seizures under control, Sirius insisted on a celebration with all their family.
Remus spent nearly a week pacing holes into the carpet anytime Sirius wasn’t home. He scripted his words until he knew them by heart. None of that practice mattered as Sirius and Remus proposed to each other at the same time. They said yes.
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Nobody Has To Know
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TW: fem!Reader x Madelyn. Smut. Language. Cheating. 
Summary:  Madelyn makes a move on you after a fith with Drew.
WORD COUNT: 1500
REQUESTED:
Drew dating reader who is also his love interest in the obx and Madelyn has a crush on her and one day they kind of argue on set but it’s not that big of a deal but Madelyn convinced reader to cheat on drew with her ? 
*HEY I WASN'T SURE IF YOU MEANT THAT DREW AND READER GOT INTO A FIGHT OR HER AND MADELYN, AND SO I KINDA DECIDED ON MY OWN. HOPE YOU STILL LIKE IT! 
Nobody Has To Know 
You were always one to harbor a curious mind as well as pushing limits and boundaries. It was one of the many things he loved about you, and it was also what landed you the role to play Rafe's onscreen love interest, and yet, it was also a means for your arguments. Jokes taken too far or moments in which your maturity would be tweaked to fit the role of peer pressure or some pointless dare. The most recent having been showing up to work a bit too hungover from the night before. Usually a professional, you had allowed Chase and Austin to convince you of one too many shots as Carlacia and Madison had taken you to the dance floor to garner the attention of everyone. 
Including her. 
Especially her. 
The memory of the way your body moved and the dress followed each and every sway has set her teeth to sink into her bottom lip at the thought of joining you. But you were friends. Not to mention dating a shared friend, someone she considered to be family. But the crush she had developed on you over the last few months of filming was enough to be noticed by people like Jonathan and Madison as they consoled her when she was affected by your presence. But she would always remain a friend first. 
At least she planned to... 
"I'm not doing this right now..." Drew said with a sigh.. "I hope last night was worth it...Let me go cover your ass for Jonas...Just try to go...sober up somewhere..." He spoke to you, more disappointed as he left you in the makeup trailer as you waited for your designated artist. But upon doing so, you were left with guilt. Drew was a perfect boyfriend for so many reasons. But where he knew the limitations of his excesses, you had a tendency to go overboard. You were a wild spirit reined by his more conservative lifestyle. Sure, he could party and be the life of the party for any instance, but when embarrassed, he could become almost parental. 
"You alright?" Madelyn asked as the door closed behind her, her mouth cocked to the side as she analyzed you. Shades covering your tired eyes, despite the fact you were in a dimly lit trailer whose mirror light was kept off for the time being, hair set in a messy bun from having overslept, and the groan that left your throat having left your lips in such a way that prompted the understanding of you enduring the consequences from the night before. 
"I'm sure whatever he said..." 
You sniffle, having begun to cry since he left. 
"What did he say?" Her demeanor changed, now immediately upset at Drew for making you shed tears.
"I just feel like I always let him down...He is so sweet and he looks out for me...but I always feel like I'm a step beneath him or something. Like he has to babysit me..." 
"You have a right to live your life though...I mean, do you think about not being with him?" She asked, forcing her excitement to shallow behind her concern. 
"Sometimes...Oh my God..I'm too hungover, Drew is so good..." 
"Is he what you want though? I mean you can love someone and they still might not fulfill you. I mean I could eat salad all day, its good for you and everything, but I'm always gonna want something sweet..." Her eyes flashed to you in a way you hadn't noticed. Her usual sultry eyes, a statement of hers along with those full lips pulled in a natural pout when content, had darkened with lust. This was the closest she had come to confessing how she felt for you. But now she was closer to acting on it then just stating it. 
"Do you ever think about anyone else?" 
The truth was, you thought about everyone. You found everyone attractive. Their personalities meant more than the genetics making up their gender. It was a problem as it caused for many flirtations to be misinterpreted. But it was simply how you were. Curious. Adventurous. Anything but judgemental. Which was why Drew's words were so painful as they probably shouldn't have been. Maybe because a part of him was right. 
"Sometimes..." You confessed. 
"Ever think about me?" Her fingers traced yours on the table as you caught her eyes in the reflection. She always made you the kind of nervous you get before the drop of a Rollercoaster. Maybe because she was effortless and talented, not to mention caring and sweet. And even if looks were something that was a mere addition, you couldn't help but notice how gorgeous she was. 
"I think about you..." Her words threw you off. You have only ever seen her spend her time with other guys. Nit that she was an option anyhow as Drew was your boyfriend. Her friend. YOUR boyfriend. But as she moved closer, her perfume, her voice, and her overall aesthetic had wrapped you around her completely. 
"Way more than I should..." Her fingers played with your hair until her fingers fell to your neck. Her touch was immediate fire against your chilled skin, the rush if what was forbidden having sent hour eyes to a close to bask. 
"What-what do you think about?" 
"I don't know I should tell you...I don't want you to look at me differently...for our friendship to change..." 
"I...I wanna know." You turned to face her as she lowered to you, on her knees, as her hands ran slowly up your thighs, teasing beneath your skirt. 
"They are the kind of thoughts that make me...wet..." Her eyes flashed up to you as she watched your reaction. "Do you have the same?" 
You slowly nodded, her face illuminating. "But Drew..." 
"We aren't doing anything wrong...we're just talking..." 
"Maddy..." 
"There's nothing wrong with talking, right?" You watched her bite her bottom lip as you shook your head. 
"So I usually think of your lips...they always seem so soft..." She reached to them, your eyes fighting to remain open as you were tempted to take them into a suck. 
"And you have the prettiest breasts I've ever seen...I just want to feel how soft and warm they are...make your nipples all hard with my teeth..." 
"Oh my God..." 
"And your thighs...the things I want to do between your thighs...I could make you feel as good...better than him because I know exactly what would make you feel good-" Her thumbs were at your clothed clit, her words having distracted you enough to make this motion, as you gasped. 
"Madelyn-" 
"I want to know how sweet you are." She dipped her finger into your panties, before taking you to her lips. 
"We can't..." You looked to the door of the trailer as she moved to the lock, twisting it closed, before returning to you. 
"I know we should, but I'm so wet for you...my panties are soaked through..." She pulled you to your feet as you would feel her, "See? I'm throbbing for you...I'd come so fast for you...but I'd take my time with you..." She ghosted your lips as you slowly nodded. 
"Yeah?" 
"Oh my God.." He moaned as you began to rub against her, basking on how she sounded because of you. 
"Oh my God!" She spoke again, this time with a smile. 
"Madelyn..." 
"Please don't stop. Oh my God..." Her hand came to your breast as she slid beneath the fabric before you heard the door of the trailer tried from the outside. 
"Please." She wrapped her hand tighter around your wrist while her second hand drove between your own legs. 
"I don't want to hurt him-" You breathed quickly as she used her hand to your face, leading you to her lips. 
"Nobody has to know...this will stay...just...between...us..." She pulled apart between the kiss, a thumb to your clit motioning for you to copy. 
"How wet you are...how good I'm making you feel...how you're gonna make me come...all of it will stay between us..." As you tried to rationalize the reality of this, you found the rush of an orgasm silencing you. 
"Fuck-" She spoke almost silently, a word you'd heard her say a million times, but never like this. Never this breathless or beautiful. Nit because of you. It was enough to prompt your own release as it came to the surface. 
"I wanted to take my time touching you...pulling those sweet moans from you...But at least I know how good you feel clenching around my fingers baby..." She sucked you off of her fingers as another knock came to the door. 
"Madelyn..." 
"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone else how sweet you are. Our little secret." She gave one final kiss before leaving you to fathom what you'd just done. 
Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @camilynn @bethoconnor
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kookaburra-laugh · 1 year
Text
I read that in 2022 - GO Edition
hi friends, i come with a list of fic recommendations on this first day of 2023! for me, 2022 brought new friends and new fandom and im eager to share what i’ve read and loved with you all
not all of these were written in 2022, but that’s when i read them
Accept a Little Spin by nieded @nieded ​
rated E | 100k+ words (ongoing)
It's the 2023 season, and sophomore driver, Ezira Phale, is out to prove he's worthy of his seat at McLaren F1 as the world tests the boundaries of his confidence and his relationship with IndyCar driver, AJ Crowley.
Part 2 of Rainbow Road 🏁🌈
Waking Up Slow by the_moonmoth @themoonmothwrites
rate E | 88k words
After both being exposed to coronavirus, total strangers Crowley and Aziraphale are forced to wait out their isolation together. A tale of soft winter romance by the sea.
close quarters pining, slow and hot and full of feelings
stalwart sun, wily moon by dustnhalos @dustandhalos ​
rated M | 370k words
Anthony J. Crowley is a world-class art thief with a complicated past who, until now, had been pretty content with going through life as part of a prolific black market art trafficking ring.
That is, until a simple logistical hiccup leads him straight into the path of one Aziraphale Fell, former Head Conservator of the British Museum turned antique repair shop owner.
Little do they both know, the strands of friendship, morality, and deception in their shared circles of the London art world are interwoven in even more complex ways than either of them could have expected...
such rebel blood by curtaincall @fremulon​
rated T | 60k words
Anthony Crowley needs a break. Six months after being tried for murder, he’s struggling to find a new publisher for his mystery novels—and to conquer his (apparently unrequited) feelings for Lord Aziraphale Eastgate, the man who saved his life.
Spending a few weeks out in the country working on a murder-mystery game for a rich young American’s twenty-first birthday party seems like an easy choice. But when the simulated death becomes all too real, Crowley finds himself caught up in the investigation—and crossing paths once more with someone he feared he’d never see again...
 Part 2 of A Love Story with Detective Interruptions        
No Room at the Inn by summerofspock @summerofspock
rated T | 735 words
A tipsy makeout scene for the prompt Bed Sharing.
tender and mild on main
Anatomy 101 by Fyre @amuseoffyre
rated E | 102k words
Two humans are enjoying some alone time. A demon has questions. An angel has answers.
an owners manual of sorts that developed feelings along the way
 Mark of the Serpent  by NaroMoreau, summerofspock @naromoreau ​ @summerofspock ​
rated E | 150k words
Prince Aziraphale is about to be crowned King of Angelhaven when he's taken captive by pirates. When he's sold as a pleasure slave to King Crowley, ruler of the nation readying for war with his, he is forced to keep his identity a secret as he tries to find a way home and keep peace. But not everything at King Crowley's court is as it seems and Aziraphale will have to face machinations of a Royal Court that are far more complex than he had thought.
A Captive Prince AU with an omegaverse twist.
Unusual Occurrences at A.Z. Fell and Co.'s  by WritesEveryBlueMoon @gwenstacyismyicon
rated T | 1500 words
When the bizzare and amusing habits of Mr A.Z. Fell, bookseller, begin to trend on the internet, those who dwell on various social media sites share their frustrations, confusion, and extraordinarily unusual stories.
An Oddly Mesmerizing Display by ZehWulf @zehwulf
rated E | 29k words
Crowley's a sex-indifferent/favorable asexual omega fresh off suppressants and in the market for someone to help him through what promises to be a trial of a heat. His friend gets him tickets to the Spring Fling Heat Date Auction, where he can win a date with an eligible alpha (or omega). Naturally, a certain alpha with a regrettably memorable stage magic show and intriguing scent catches his eye...
On The Habits Of Vampires And Retired Goths by munchmulch @munchmulch
rated T | 21k words
The thing is about Crowley's new neighbor, the thing is that Crowley is very, very gay.
the best kind of miscommunication. crowley has vampire traits and aziraphale makes some connections. aziraphale has wolfish traits but crowley is blinded by love and willfully ignores them
 A Guide to Fame for the Enterprising Demon by asideofourown @asideofourown
rated T | 8k words
[Crowley accidentally gets a bit famous, and the internet figures out he may be a bit immortal]
 All The Dreams We Had by ImpishTubist @impishtubist
rated T | 6.5k words
This time will be different, Aziraphale thinks. This time, Crowley will remember.
crowley cant remember falliing in love, no matter how many times he does it
do you know what eternity is? by gazing @choreomanic
rated T | 16k words
I'll pretend to propose, Crowley said.
It'll be fine, Crowley said.
It was, Aziraphale decided, not fine.
tender and mild on main. incredibly soft and silly and cute. so many proposals 
Till death do us part (or not) by fractalgeometry @geometricfractal
rated G | 2.5k words
Awkward Tesco reunions: the real curse of immortality
exactly as it says on the tin. hits all the best feels
All That’s Best of Dark and Bright by hope_in_the_dark @hope-inthedark
rated T | 5.5k words
When Crowley drops a bomb on a church, Aziraphale falls in love with him. This should be a secret, but unfortunately, Aziraphale's never been much good at keeping them.
a heartwrencher to be sure, but so sweet and gentle at the same time
Hanging By a Moment by NaroMoreau @naromoreau ​
rated E | 5.5k words
Sometimes the best thing is to leave. Fresh slate and all that. For Crowley, it seems like the only option, having fallen hopelessly in love with his best friend.
crowley convinces himself that this moment with aziraphale that he's always wanted doesnt mean the same thing to both of them. but he's leaving next week so he's going to make sure this experience will be one to remember
Echo by snae_b
rated E | 52k words
This isn’t your average coffee shop AU.
kinda sorta amnesia/time loop but so much deeper! bamf protective devoted crowley
Amazing by nightbloomingcereus @moondawntreader
rated E | 9k words
Aziraphale thinks he's been hired to perform his magic act at a party. It turns out that there's been a slight misunderstanding and everyone thinks he's there for an entirely different sort of show. Good thing the caterer is there to save the day.
Green Groves by NaroMoreau @naromoreau ​
rated E | 16.5k words
Aziraphale Fell isn't entirely happy living in his father's house. But when a new friend enters into his life, his whole world will change in an unexpected way.
Paper Thin Walls by angelsnuffbox @angelsnuffbox
rated E | 16.5k
Sure being in love with your best friend when he also happens to live in the flat next door, where you can hear every single one of his conquests through that shared wall, sounds challenging. But being in love with your best friend when he lives next door and you two used to shag? Might just be a tad more difficult, but Aziraphale muddles through somehow.
Be Ye Therefore Merciful by AmberDiceless
rated T | 9.5k words
Crowley does something utterly unexpected, and Aziraphale must face an opponent who cannot be thwarted. Hints of pre-A/C.
bookverse - crowley is injured by a blessed bullet in a warzone and aziraphale uses his full will (and rules lawyering) to keep him safe.
Any Way You Want It by Justkeeptrekkin @justkeeptrekkin
Saving the world is exhausting work. With Heaven and Hell off their backs, it seems as good a time as any for Crowley and Aziraphale to take a proper break. Neither one of them predicts the direction their holiday takes.
a scotland vacation, some realizations, and confessions to match. tender and mild on main.
Small Cock Appreciation Society by cheerios_and_wine @cheeriosandwine
rated E | 6.5k words
Crowley is the founding member. Aziraphale's is the member.
incredibly sweet and hot. crowley and aziraphale fit so well together
Lift Me Up, O Lord by CopperBeech @copperplatebeech ​
rated E | 37k words
Aziraphale Fell’s maintained a string of weightlifting victories, a strained relationship with his family, and his grandfather’s waistcoat right into his fifties.
Distance runner Anthony Crowley’s spent the last decade watching his racing career recede in the rearview, but it doesn’t stop him running, literally, away from his feelings.
lifter aziraphale, runner crowley, and a bicycle race
Boyfriend Debut by snae_b
rated E | 20k words
It’s fucking on camera. It’s not that complicated.
sex with feelings between porn stars who really hit it off
Pop the Question by tweedfeather @tweedfeather ​
rated T
Crowley plans to pop the question to Aziraphale at their favourite restaurant. Things don't go as planned.
A short, sweet, and silly fan-comic.
Where We Will Love by TawnyOwl95 @tawnyontumblr​
rated E | 17.5k words
Crowley busks in Piccadilly Circus.
Just down the road in Haymarket, Azra Eastgate performs at Her Majesty’s Theatre.
One duet is going to change both their lives.
Trust Me, I'm A Professional by Lurlur @lurlur ​
rated E | 12k words
After a mishap with a client, Crowley finds himself booking in at his local emergency department. His bitchy angel of a nurse takes good care of him, making Crowley regret that he can't really just leave his number.
Perhaps the universe has other plans for his love life?
Many Ways To Say It by Fledglinger @fledglingdoodles ​
rated G
"Listen well, dear ones, for there are many ways to tell him 'I Love You'..."
an incredibly sweet comic
Steamed by summerofspock @summerofspock ​
When Aziraphale's favorite porn star walks into the coffee shop where he works, it completely derails Aziraphale's day.
What happens when the sexy guy you're used to watching fuck people on your computer screen is actually the most awkward man you've ever met?
Heavenly Hands by ZehWulf @zehwulf ​
rated E | 7.5k words
Even girlbosses need a bit of stress relief between gaslighting and gatekeeping, and Crowley is no exception. Good thing she has a standing appointment with an angel from Higher Calling Relaxation. (A porn trope parody fic.)
A Sharper Sweet  by musegnome @musegnome ​
rated E | 5k words
Nothing smells quite the same any more. He bends over the plates anyway, and breathes in deep. Cinnamon and chocolate, fruit and sugar and butter. The scents would have set his mouth watering, before. He reaches out to touch the raspberry sauce drizzled over the cake, and stares at the drop of deep pink puree mounded on his fingertip.
crowley enjoys some sweets for his vampire partner and they both have a rather enjoyable time. a little angst at the start
Pavlov's Backroom by justheidi @scienceismygirlfriend
rated M | 444 words
"A word with you, angel. In private."
A conversation in the backroom of the bookshop.
Trying it On by snae_b
rated E | 6k words
Anthony Crowley. Stylist to an elite tier of the UK’s hottest stars. And now, apparently, to one dowdy, soft around the middle, recently divorced publishing heir.
Intermezzo by FeralTuxedo @feraltuxedo​
rated E | 47k words
Music critic Aziraphale Fell is trying to break into the world of television, when he is signed to make a documentary about former-rockstar-turned-composer Anthony Crowley. It’s been eleven years since Aziraphale’s disastrous review of Crowley’s debut opera nipped his classical music career in the bud. He can only hope that Crowley will get over his admittedly justified grudge to make the TV show a success.
  A classical music sex comedy. Yes, really.
Coq au Vin by Ginger_Cat @gingiekittycat​
rated E | 13k words
Tonight’s the night. He can feel it in his bones, in his wings, in his demonic soul. It’s going to happen—months of showering the angel with flowers and chocolates and perfect picnic lunches and walks thorough the farmers’ market, romantic row-boat rides on the lake and concerts in the park and dinner at the Ritz and everything in-bloody-between, are all culminating in this one night.
Because Crowley is making Aziraphale dinner, and Crowley is going to kiss him.
When the Sun Goes Down by TawnyOwl95 @tawnyontumblr
rated E | 16k words
Mr Anthony J. Crawleigh, disgraced heir to the Helton Abbey Estate, has been summoned home to attend his sister's engagement party.
It's only four days of shooting, dancing and making nice with nobs. He's survived much, much worse.
If only Mama hadn't arranged for such a handsome young man to undress him every night. Practically asking for trouble, that is.
Everything I've Had by AppleSeeds
rated M | 13k words
After developing a chronic illness that leaves him unable to live alone, Crowley moves back home to London where he reunites with his childhood best friend Aziraphale. Aziraphale helps to take care of Crowley and keeps him company while he's in bed, bringing them closer together and reigniting old feelings.
for the first time by summerofspock @summerofspock​
rated E | 3k words
It’s been six months since they’ve seen each other any way besides over FaceTime and Aziraphale is desperate for the sound of Crowley’s voice without the filter of the tinny speakers of his iPhone, for the smell of the crook of his neck, for the way his body fills the space beside him. He knows Crowley will be here soon and yet his heart hardly believes it is real.
Rivers Of Gold by entanglednow @entanglednow​
rated E | 7k words
Crowley is commissioned to sculpt an angel for a family chapel, but the more he uncovers from the marble the less willing he is to give it up.
amaretto by goosewriting @goosetooths​
rated E | 69k words
Aziraphale, a human, has grown used to being alone.
Everything changes for him when a unique occult relic falls into his hands and loops him into a contract with a mild-mannered (if a bit snarky) demon named Crowley.
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kkaisarion · 1 year
Text
a rose by any other name
this dewther story for mushy may is brought to you by these ritual gifs:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
prompt: flowers (from @forlorn-crows) rating: teen pairing: aether/dew word count: ~1500
read on AO3 or below
-----------------------------
It happened occasionally, once every few rituals. After the band finished performing, when Copia and the ghouls were walking around the stage to interact with the audience, a fan would toss a bouquet of roses up towards them. Then, as everyone linked up their arms across the stage to take their bows, Copia would go down the line and hand each of the ghouls a flower.
The first time that it happened, it took Dew by surprise. Unsure how to react, he took the rose from Copia and put the stem in between his teeth, because—well, that’s just what his brain decided on in the moment. It made the flower snap in half, so after the ghouls made their way off stage and back to the dressing rooms, Dew tossed it into the trash can.
“You destroyed your rose immediately?” Aether slipped in between the other ghouls to stand next to Dew, shaking his head. “This is why we can’t have nice things,” he teased.
“It’s not a big deal,” Dew muttered, somehow feeling like he was disappointing Aether.
“Well, you need to have one,” Aether said as if it was obvious. He handed his own rose to Dew, and then quickly walked off before he could protest.
Dew brought the flower up to his face and sniffed it cautiously. He didn’t really know what to expect, since no one had ever given him one before. It smelled…nice. Tilting his head, he tucked the interaction with Aether in the back of his mind, so that he could revisit it later. For no particular reason.
The next time that Copia received a bouquet, there weren’t enough roses to go around. All of the other ghouls got one, but by the time he reached Dew on the far end of the line, he ran out. Instead, Dew received a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek from Copia—which was a pretty decent alternative, all things considered.
Once again, Aether noticed. “Here, take my rose,” he said after they got off stage, pushing it into Dew’s hands. “It’s even red this time!” he beamed, and looked at Dew expectantly.
Dew didn’t know why that was significant, but something about Aether’s excited expression told him not to ask about it. In his confusion, he didn’t remember to say thank you until Aether was walking away, so Dew ended up calling it out to his retreating back.
It kept happening after that. Even when Dew managed to hold on to his flowers after rituals, Aether gave his to Dew, without fail. He couldn’t figure it out—maybe Aether didn’t like them, so he wanted to get rid of them? At any rate, Dew began looking forward to receiving them. The attention was nice—especially when it came from Aether, a small part of Dew was willing to acknowledge.
Dew tried to save all of the roses, surreptitiously tossing them into his bag before leaving the venue. He didn’t know why kept trying, really, because the petals obviously ended up breaking off and getting crushed.
One afternoon, Dew was hiding at the back of the tour bus, cleaning up the mess of broken flowers. He jumped when he heard someone approaching, and shifted his body over to hide what he was doing.
It turned out to be Rain, and ever the perceptive ghoul, he saw anyway. “You want to preserve them?” he asked, looking at Dew curiously.
“No—well, yes,” Dew gave what he hoped was a casual shrug. “They look nice,” he added, in a halfhearted attempt to explain himself.
“If you press the flowers flat in between the pages of a book, it’ll work better,” Rain told him.
“Oh, okay. I might try that, I guess,” Dew said noncommittally. “Wait, how do you even know that?”
“Sometimes Swiss gives me flowers,” he explained, which made sense. He could be unexpectedly sweet like that, especially to Rain. “Anyways, come outside when you’re done. All of us are leaving soon to get food,” Rain said, and then turned to leave.
As soon as Dew was sure that Rain was gone, he rifled through his belongings until he found a tattered book that he had bought eons ago, under the misguided thought that he would get bored enough on tour to read it. (That wasn’t true, of course. Scrolling endlessly through social media was so much easier.)
Carefully, Dew picked out one of the still intact petals and slid it inside the book. When he checked back a couple of days later, it had worked, just as Rain said. So after that, Dew made sure to do the same to the other roses he got from Aether. From time to time, Dew cracked open the book to admire his collection. Which was a totally normal thing to do, he told himself.
Finally, things came to a head one night when the ghouls were out at a bar, a few blocks away from the hotel where they were staying. Their (perhaps ill-advised) plan was to get drunk and burn off the pent-up energy they had before the next night’s ritual.
Dew was staked out at a small table in the corner, brooding over a bottle of cheap beer. He was usually more social, living up to his reputation of being loud and boisterous. But tonight, he was preoccupied with watching what Aether was doing.
Every so often, Dew flicked his eyes toward the end of the bar, where Aether was shoulder to shoulder with the stranger next to him, deep in conversation. Dew found himself annoyed. Why was Aether making friends with random people, when he could be doing something better? Like talking with Dew, for example.
“Hey,” Rain suddenly appeared and sat down next to Dew, who gave him a dejected wave. “Why aren’t you over with the group? You’re missing out—we’re all making fun of Swiss for doing something dumb.”
“I’m just not feeling it tonight,” Dew shrugged, but Rain wasn’t having any of it. He tracked Dew’s gaze over to the bar and heaved a dramatic sigh.
“Stop moping around and staring at Aether. Just go up to him, if you want him that bad,” Rain rolled his eyes.
“I’m that obvious, huh,” Dew muttered into his drink.
“If you proposition him, he’ll say yes,” Rain said encouragingly.
“Gross, don’t say it like that,” Dew said, even as he perked up. “How can you be so sure?”
“Hey, I just said it in a way that you’d actually understand. Since Aether’s hints keep flying over your head,” Rain said. “Do you really not get why he gives you flowers?”
“I don’t know, because he doesn’t want them?” Dew guessed.
“No,” Rain said patiently, as if explaining something to a small child. “It’s because he wants you to have them.”
Oh.
Oh.
“I have to go,” Dew said, standing up abruptly. Rain just laughed and pushed him toward the bar.
Once Dew was up there, he squeezed into the tight space between Aether’s seat and the wall. “Hey Aeth,” he announced his presence.
“Hi—oh, it’s you,” Aether said when he turned around. His face lit up with a wide smile, one that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. It was so obvious, now. How had Dew not seen it before?
Now that Aether was looking at him, Dew wasn’t actually sure what to do—he hadn’t planned this far ahead.
“You should come talk to me, instead of wasting your time with them,” he said bluntly, motioning at the person on the other side of Aether. Maybe he should have tried to be nicer, but Aether should know by now that wasn’t exactly his strong suit.
Aether cocked his head. “And why should I do that?” he asked in an amused tone.
“Because you give me flowers,” Dew said, hearing how out of context the words sounded as soon as they came out of his mouth.
But Aether understood. “So, you finally figured out what I’ve been trying to tell you?” he asked, hopeful.
“Yeah. Well, Rain did,” Dew said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in his general direction. “I didn’t realize it meant that you…like me, or something,” he trailed off at the end, afraid of voicing it out loud.
“Gifting flowers is a customary way of demonstrating affection,” Aether pointed out, teasing. “It’s called romance—maybe you’ve heard of it?”
Dew blushed slightly. Affection?
“Sure, but that’s not really my style," he tried to play it off. “Usually I just…see that someone is interested and jump them.”
Aether hummed. “So why didn’t you do that this time?”
“I was nervous,” Dew admitted reluctantly. “I thought you might not want that.”
“Well, you’re wrong,” Aether said, and reached over to hold Dew’s hand tightly.
Dew grinned at that, and once he started, he couldn’t seem to stop. “Want to go back to the hotel? Then you can show me how wrong I am,” he said.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Aether laughed. He quickly stood up and started tugging Dew across the bar to leave. 
On their way out, Rain caught Dew’s eye and winked at him. Dew shot him the finger, still smiling, and followed Aether out the door.
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liannelara-dracula · 1 year
Note
Hey, sweetie!
How old you think are the sakamaki, mukami and tsukinami? i have seen lots of posts and all says different things from each othe, i'm really confused--
Hi Love,
This is a really good question. Its something I've always wondered and have been struggling to answer but I will do my best. A while ago I did some extreme math to calculate their age which I will say, I do not recommend such torture to anyone. Plus, I completely forgot the logic behind the formulas so whelp to that. And I think I am either correct or Rejet is inconsistent with their ideas. Either case, something is off and I'll do my best to explain what I think their age range is.
-Liannelara
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Prompt
Requests are open
Rules
Warning:
*certain words have been censored for Tumblr guidelines.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Okay so as I'm sure most of us know, we are aware of their physical age but when it comes to their actual age its tough to say but there are some estimates that could pinpoint a rough estimate as to how old they are.
For example. in one of the drama CDs I believe Reiji was the one who explained to Yui that the mansion that we see in the anime was given to them back in the 18th century? or was it 1800s? I can't remember overall it was a long time ago. And whichever it was they were all grown up to live there on their own as a family. This means for over 200+ years they have looked like teenagers!
The Tsukinami's age also helps us determine the Sakamaki's age. In the Young Blood manga, you can notice that Carla looks just as old as he looks now, and this is when the Sakamaki's were only children. So he and Shin are fairly old. Plus it was stated that they were trapped for thousands of years, so they are old considering that they had some business with their father.
If we also look at Beatrix's attire that Rejet gave her, it is a style that leans more toward the 15-1600s and her children where very young at the time. Of course these years are somewhat misleading because if you think of it, that dress is probably from the demon world so their way of doing things hardly changes. So there is a chance that the attire doesn't greatly respect the time.
However! In another drama CD when the boys were asked about their age Shu said he couldn't remember how old he was exactly but that he was roughly in his early 1,000s. Reiji, Laito, and I believe it was also Kanto who admitted that they were several of 100s of years old. (This was all on the CD which of course I don't remember which one.)
So having said this I've dug far deep to give a good estimate on all this so here it is:
Sakamaki
Shu:
1,051.
Idk why but this exact number is what I always think of when I see him.
Although in terms of range it would be 1,030-1,080.
Reiji:
932-986
he's approaching 1,000 real soon.
Laito:
743-870
Kanato:
720-850
Ayato:
715-820
I know they are triplets and they were born on the same day, but it's hard to picture they're all the same age. So I gave each a different range for each one because I don't know what to pick, but for them I would say the range is roughly : 715-870
Subaru:
660-700
Kino:
I always feel like he was older but it turns out he's younger than Shu?
890-950
Mukami
Now considering that Shu met "young" Yuma or "edgar" in this case, centuries later, it shows how slowly purebloods age and just how fast a turned vampires age, so while the Mukamis look to be the same age as the Sakamakis they're actually younger.
I know the Mukamis are psychically a year apart from each other but you know vampire aging works a little differently. Plus, we don't know how much they really are I'm just going by what age range I see on them.
Ruki
He is old and was probably born in 1500-1700s, as much as I want to say 1800s but we know it's not accurate.
Now idk why but I feel like he was born in the year 1570. (It just sounds right lol)
So for age wise its 518-640
Yuma
He's younger than Kou and it's just so hard to believe.
He's probably 460-580
Kou
500-620
Azusa
440-550
I could see him being in his mid 400s
Tsukinami
Oh my, they are very old.
And I'm just going to say it, they do not look like teens. I always felt that they looked like they were in their 20s. Honestly all of them look like their in there 20s.
But anyways, lets keep in mind that Carla looks exactly the same as he does now when the Sakamaks were kids. (This was in the young blood manga btw).
(also please let me know if I'm wrong about my facts so just let me know.)
anyways I feel like they are quite old and over a thousand. they said he was trapped for thousands of years so they are really old.
Carla
5,018-5,480
Shin
3,080-4,660
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˗ˏˋ 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 ˎˊ˗ ©𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔~Present
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monodipita · 1 year
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A/N:  not requested by anyone, just showing that you can also request fem!yandere chars... not sure if this is good though hehe
pairing:  yandere!ei x gender neutral reader
word count: ~1500
warning(s):  yandere content, dark content.  royalty x reader themed so possible power imbalance
         “The world would be empty if I didn't have you."  Her voice was low, disembodied, and empty.  
        She just wanted you to stay.  You don't know if she actually loved you anymore; perhaps she just wanted someone to stay with her so she wasn't so lonely.
        Ei's overbearing nature was beginning to hamper your relationship with her.  Even now, all you planned to do was have a nice time with her at the palace, and still she seemed like she wanted you there, by her side... and not by any normal means.  You couldn't simply explain it, though...
       Being the consort to Her Eternal Excellency, while it was once the most beautiful privilege to bear in your mind at one point, was now the most restricted you’d ever felt in your life—and you hated every waking moment you were alone, or without Ei on your arm. The eyes she kept on you were unceasing and followed your every movement down to the hesitant switch in direction; and there was no doubt in your mind that no other consort in the history of Teyvat suffered as extensively as you did at this very moment. 
        ”...Ei, I’m not going anywhere today.  I told you that already.”  You softly responded, releasing a sigh that prompted her to drape her arms around you.  The hug had little to it, and her words even less so, as she said nothing but nuzzled her face into your neck.  "You're very warm," she murmured to you, bringing her slender digits up to your cheek to gently caress it.  Her touch felt warm, at least.  She was trying. Unfortunately, her trying wasn’t enough.
        At least you could enjoy the outside air, no?
        ”You won’t… you won’t leave me, will you [Y/N]?”  Ei’s voice was just above the sounds of the flowing water surrounding you.  Delicate, like she normally was.  You felt a sigh release from your lips, and if it wasn’t bad enough that you had released this bottled-up emotion—you hesitated to answer her.  Because the truth was plain: Ei wasn’t the same woman you knew anymore, no, she was… a tyrant.  
        ”What is that supposed to mean?  Why are you sighing?”
        Her grip around your jaw tightened, making you wince with discomfort as her slender digits turned your head to hers.  Her somewhat long nails pressed into your cheeks, forcing you to stare at her. 
        “…Ei, you’re scaring me,”  you tried to get her to see reason,  “please.  Just let me go, okay?”
        ”I’m scaring you?? No, you’re scaring me,” Ei tentatively let up on her temporary restraint.  “You’re the one who’s trying to leave… y-you’re trying to separate us,”
        ”No. All I'm doing is going outside, Ei,”  You lied.
        . . . But over time, she’d gotten worse.  There were things you weren’t privy to, even as her lover and the other half of the two people she trusted with her life.  You could hear her paranoid inner ramblings when the two of you slept together.  She kept herself up at night worrying about the consequences of her actions, and not even you, her beloved [Y/N], could do anything to console her but be there for her, and even now; it felt like you were being trapped by her.
        She had become worse than you could’ve imagined—between the Vision Hunt and Sakoku Decree, you could no longer leave the palace’s front door step without being accompanied by someone she personally handpicked, and the trust she put in these people was about as far as you could throw a weighted fukubukuro in a lake.
        Night fell upon you, much sooner than you would've liked.  Ei’s soft lips pressed to the base of your nape to deliver a tender goodnight kiss, making tingles dance up your spine... it felt so good when she gave you kisses, even now.
        “Goodnight, [Y/N].  I’ll see you in the morning.”  She softly spoke, before leaving you be in your assigned bedroom—one that, after some time, you could hear the guards shuffling into place to protect you from some unknown threat.  It wasn't entirely known to you what she did when the two of you weren't together.
        This wasn't love to you; she was trapping you.  But what did you do? 
        Run.  It was the only option. 
        And even then, this solution felt useless—what if everyone knew what you looked like? What if you didn't have anyone to turn to?  But you hoped that Ei’s paranoia would factor in how little people knew about you, so that you would be free to roam the streets when you finally escaped.
        You had no one but your family... but who knew what she did with them.
        You peeled the thick blankets off yourself and rose from your bed.  Twilight twinkled in through the half-cracked shoji... it was a beautiful night, and the world below you was nothing but ocean.  You turned your attention to the door barring you from the rest of the palace and crept over to it.
        "You pay attention to everything that happens within these walls.  Report to me if [Y/N] does anything."
        Ei's eyes glared at the door for a few moments before tearing them away.  She suspected something was up, but she couldn't quite tell what.  She couldn’t leave you alone, could she?
        ”…”
        She walked away from the doors.  "I'll wait for you, [Y/N], like I always have."  She whispered.
        The night progressed into the deeper hours, and by now, you were certain that the guards by your door had finally shaken their posts to go do something else.  You wasted no time crawling out of your bed and tip-toeing toward the door, where you knew salvation from this world lied.  There was no time to get anything... the clothes on your back would do...
        You slowly opened the door and scurried across the open room to the much larger doors, past the beloved relics you shared with her, past the beauty of your shared life with her.  None of these things mattered..! 
        "[Y/N]."
        You stopped dead in your tracks.  Fear washed over you, making your knees buckle into place. You couldn't feel your calves anymore.
        Ei's slender arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pressing you flush to her chest.  You could feel her heartbeat, and she could feel yours... the ultimate lovers' bond, one that you couldn't share with someone you felt that you were no longer in love with.  "You feel so warm..." she nuzzled the nape of your neck, breathing in the same scent that she was hopelessly infatuated with.
        "What... what is it, Ei?"  You asked softly.
        "I was just wondering where you were going."  She replied.
        "Out."
        "Without me?"  Ei tilted her head, revealing her glowing violet hues to you.  Their glow alone was enough to make a shiver tumble down your spine.  How do you get out of this??  "It was just outside.  I wasn't going far."
        "You weren't going far, hmm?"  Her eyes hooded.  "But you were leaving somewhere without me.  Don't you know how far away that is?"
        "..." you didn't know how to respond.
        "No... no you didn't.  Well, I have somewhere you'd might like to go."  She calmly mentioned; though you couldn't possibly wonder what it was.  "Come with me..."
        Without any choice, you followed her.
        Her throne room was desolate, save for the large burn stain in the middle of the floor from the encounter with La Signora, and a table with three zabuton (pillow chairs).  In the right was none other than her puppet, staring back at you with the same eyes as Ei's... perhaps more hollow.  She stood and made her way down the platform to greet you with a small, pleasant smile on her thin lips.  "[Y/N]."  She said your name in the same voice as the real Ei's.  It was never something you could quite wrap your mind around...  "I'm glad I could finally see you."
        Their bodies draped themselves around you, surrounding you in an intoxicating Ei-embrace.  Even the puppet's skin felt so warm and life-like.  But this wasn't what you wanted...  
        "Let us take you to a place you will surely love."
        The world went dark around you—until it wasn't, and you were relieved of sleep.  You woke up with your head on Ei’s lap—you knew this feeling from anywhere.
        Above you was a beautiful, vibrant purple mixed with a deep blue to emulate twilight.  And in the middle of this frame was none other than Ei’s beautiful face staring back at you.  “…” you furrowed your brows as you sat up.  “What…” this world was far different than what you remembered the world around you being—what was this?  Where did she take you?
        ”Is it beautiful?”  Ei asked you while her hands gently rubbed down your back.  “I worked hard to get you here.  I hope it’s to your liking.”  She smiled and pressed her chin to your shoulder.
        ”W-what is this place?”  You glanced over at her in the corner of your eye.  “Where have you taken me, Ei?”
        ”Your forever home.”  She kissed your cheek.  “Now we’ll never be apart—you, me, and our thoughts intertwined… I couldn’t have it any other way.”  She purred.
        Trapped to be her lover forever..?  It sounded like absolute insanity!  ”Why would you do this?!”  You snapped, pushing yourself away from her and stumbling to your feet.  “You’ve trapped me here!!  I don’t know how to get out!  This wasn’t what I wanted—I wanted to get away from you!”
        All around you was pure nothingness.  "What have you done?!?"  you shrieked.
        "You're in my euthymia, love," Ei reached up to console you by pulling your body down into her arms.  She wrapped her arms around you and pressed your head to her neck, stroking down your locks lovingly. "My forever.  Our forever." she grinned.
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beloved-daydreams · 6 months
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Folktober2023 Prompt: "Accidental summoning" 🫢🌿
An attempt by
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Hosted by @jurdannetrevels and @jurdannet
📘 1500+ words
😎 Characters: Jude, Cardan
✒️ Tags: Jurdan, wholesome, fluff, "training", cute idiots, post TQON
📢 Summary: Cardan is helping Jude, training her to get a better hang of her powers. She isn’t so successful though, until Cardan tries to take another approach...
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"Try again." Cardan urges me.
The look he's giving me is, I suppose, what he believes to be an encouraging one but all it does is make me even more frustrated. It's not like I don't want to do it, in fact I've done something even more amazing with it before: I’ve saved a life. Two even, if I count mine. Yet standing here, in front of him, fully aware of all of my movements, it's just different. I feel shy and then stupid for feeling shy.
We made a deal. I'll teach him how to wield a sword, he'll teach me how to use my newly acquired powers. He told me it was a bit different from regular magic since we are "linked" to the land, whatever that means, but because he has had magic flowing through him since he was born, getting the hang of this power wasn't that difficult. Me however…
"Listen, maybe I should just… find a teacher who's actually specialized in teaching magic."
Cardan raises his eyebrows at me, a bit vexed I imagine.
"Really? I didn't think I'm quite so bad at teaching that you would need to go look for someone else."
I put my hands on my hips and turn away from him, rolling my eyes. I can't help it. Everything just gets harder in front of Cardan. I know I shouldn't feel embarrassed about being incompetent but I don't want him to see that side of me. Which is ridiculous, since he has already seen me on the brink of death. If that isn't the height of incompetence then I don't know what is.
"That's not what I mean. I just think it might be better to learn from someone more skilled, I mean, I'm practically a sword master but you're not especially known for your magical affinity-"
I sneak a glance at him and he has that same look on his face. The raised eyebrows that say: "Oh, so I'm not worthy of teaching you? You think you're so great? That you can teach me but you can't learn anything from me in turn because I'm too untalented for your liking?"
I sigh. Or more like, I force the air out of my nose.
"Okay, no. What I meant is- I feel like we're losing time and maybe both of us would rather do something more productive and efficient. I'm sure you're great, it's just, I'm having trouble with something I've never had. Does that make sense?"
Finally, he lets his eyebrows drop back to their usual place. I feel relieved at having managed to word my thoughts out better. Somehow, we've always been great at misunderstanding each other and I'd like to stop that trend, both of us would actually, I think.
Cardan approaches me, his steps are light but his gaze carries a heaviness I recognize. As I thought, he embraced me from behind, placing his chin up on my head, arms around my waist. Without any resistance, I let him wrap himself around me like a needy pet snake would.
"Time spent with you is never wasted. Do you feel like it's a waste to be with me?"
Finally, he lets his signature move sway me as it always does. His tail that I now find to be an irresistibly cute trait of his, zigzags around my leg.
"...No. I'm just worried you'll get bored of me being unable to do something you've been able to do naturally your whole life."
He chuckles. And I realize again, that for him time isn't as consequent as it is to me. Maybe he's the one more worried of being a waste of time, knowing that my time might be more limited than his.
"You're putting too much pressure on yourself. To channel magic, you need to be in touch with your inner world. To-"
"-materialize the mind and heart into the real world. I know."
I realize I sound bitter, yet I can feel his smile widen. He tilts his head to the side, now resting his cheek on my head.
"Well. Let me guide you entirely then. Give your mind to me, put it under my control."
Putting his possessive tone aside, for a split second I wonder if he means glamoring me and I'm about to remind him that I can't be glamored but he unwraps his arms from around my waist and places them on the sides of my arms, caressing them up and down in a reassuring manner. And then his low and hushed voice makes its way to my ears, I realize that if it's Cardan, he doesn't need to glamor me. His soft-spoken voice and gentle touch would be enough to get almost anything out of me.
"Close your eyes, relax your shoulders… Mh-hm. Good. Do the same for your jaw, don't press your teeth against each other, let them separate. Now feel the earth beneath you, breathe the air that is always full of its pollen…"
That's the voice he uses late at night, when he wants me to get under him or on top of him. I shudder. He keeps telling me to focus on the land. On the trees and leaves ruffling in the wind. Yet all I can feel is him. All I hear and breathe is him.
"You're full of its life. Remember how it healed you? Try to think back to how that felt. When its power flowed through you and you used it to save yourself. And once you're full of it, let it out in any form you want. Flowers. A tree. What is it that you want?"
I think back to that moment. Truth is, when I was dying I was still thinking of him. What saved me wasn't the land alone, it was my memory of him, my hopes of him. My heart speeds, I feel like my lungs are about to burst. Is that the "feeling of being full" he keeps talking about? So now what's left is to supposedly let it out. But how? His question hangs in my mind. "What is it that you want?" As if that wasn't already obvious.
Suddenly, I feel his hands let go of me, his tail untangle from my leg. Cardan lets out a small scream in surprise. Alarmed, I turn back, my hand already on the hilt of my sword by habit. And yet-
Cardan is hanging by vines, supporting him in mid-air. They're around his legs, his arms, they're grabbing him everywhere, curling around his limbs. One of the vines has pulled up his shirt a bit, another might be trying to get into his mouth, or around it. I'm not sure what it's doing but it doesn't look like it wants to hurt him.
I draw my sword and as I'm about to cut the vines, I stop. Wait. So these are actually…
Cardan smirks at me, half proud and half mocking.
"Dear, if you’ve wanted to tie me up all this time, you could've just asked. Those vines are just as solid as your knots, you know?"
My cheeks heat as I look at the scene again more closely, this time with the knowledge that I'm the one who did that.
"Oh I- I didn't mean to."
"Sure you didn't."
Although his words can be branded as sarcasm, the fact that he was able to say them tells me that he actually does believe that I didn't do it on purpose. Or well, not completely consciously. Subconsciously though? Absolutely. Taking in the sight and burning it into my brain, I raise my sword, less assuredly than before but, well, he has to get out of there in some way or another, right?
Yet this time, he's the one who stops me.
"Why don't you try to get me out of here through your thoughts instead of your sword?"
"I-"
I know I won't be able to. Letting go of him? That's not gonna happen.
"Yes?"
By his shit eating grin I can already tell that he knows that I can't. If those vines are a reflection of my inner world or whatever, then I don't think my inner world will ever let Cardan walk out of there even if I tried to push him out. And so I sigh.
"Are you sure you're not just stalling because you want to stay tied up?"
"Well, I'd rather be tied up in bed. Not in the open like thi-"
The vines tighten around him, he groans.
"Okay okay, get me out of here oh High Queen of my soul and heart."
"So dramatic."
I cut the vines with some difficulty, cursing my own attachment to him. And as they fall to the ground along with Cardan who was suspended in mid-air just a second ago, some blue daisies bloom around our feet. I smile.
"What's that? A gift to show your gratitude?"
He looks at me almost dumbfounded then smiles in turn. A kind smile.
"Are you really so unconscious of what you do? I'm not the one who grew these."
I blush.
The flowers multiply and Cardan lets out a laugh.
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Sorry if you expected something more spicy based on the sussy worded summary 🧐 And if you want to decrease the amount of my sad girl hours, please consider leaving comments/tags 💖
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Dandelions - Ruth B.
Peter Parker x reader
Thank you, @manyfandomsfanvergent 💜 This story came to me almost instantly. Hope you like it !!
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Forever in Your Eyes
This drabble is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!
Song Prompt: Dandelions
Pairing: (AG) Peter Parker x reader (no pronouns used)
Words: ~1500
CWs: minor swearing, mentions of Gwen’s death, some kissing
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Sunset light bathes the battered desks and vinyl floors of the art studio, discussions of weekend plans and new movies hums lowly through the room; Thursday night classes had that effect on everyone, but especially those with no classes on Friday.
Those like Peter Parker - who’d only made the Friday Class Mistake once so far in his college career. The young college student, and part time masked vigilante, slides into an empty plastic chair just as the tutor enters the room.
“Portraits!” The tutor, a vibrant bespectacled man named Robin, reminds everyone of the plan for the class as he takes attendance in his head. There were only about sixteen people in this time slot so it’s an easy task.
“Your assignment was to find some portraiture you really connected with, take it apart, make it your own, I don’t need to remind you guys,” he waves a hand as a shrug. “Let’s jump in so we can all get on with our weekend. Who wants to go first for crits?”
The girl sitting next to Peter, an eager beaver named Marie, puts her hand up to have her work picked apart. And so it begins.
Person after person shares their screen to the projector and explains why they chose their setting, the subject, the colouring, why it was edited the way it was. Peter ends up being last, and he’s feeling pretty good about the photos he’d taken of you.
He’d had to bribe you, of course. Because you hated being in front of a camera but not more than you loved a burger from that place just outside of town - the place near a secret patch of wildflowers that Peter wanted to capture you in.
He’d been careful to make sure the flowers treated carefully and with respect. Then, he’d done the same with his camera-shy best friend.
You’d needed a lot more reassurance than the flowers had.
“I’m doing a terrible job.”
“No, you’re doing great,” Peter encouraged as he peaked out from behind the lens. “Tilt your head a little to the left, just a- perfect.” He snapped a few more shots before seeing you subtly squirm and draw in an uncomfortable breath. He lowered the camera and caught you in a gentle, level stare. “Hey. Just look at me.”
“You’re not the problem,” you argued and crossed your arms over yourself, “It’s that thing in your hand.”
He grinned at you. “Don’t look at the thing in my hand.” He saw you take another shaky breath in before you met his eye with an intense vulnerability.
“Yeah,” his smile softened, he pointed and clicked as he kept your focus on him. “Just keep looking at me…”
The photos turned out great, and it’s his turn to have his work critiqued.
He clicks a few keys, types in the screen-sharing code, and your face fills the large screen at the front of the room.
It’s an objectively beautiful photo of you. The colours of the earth and the flowers bring out that sparkle in your eye that Peter’s come to know as the starlight that appears when you’re laughing, or thinking of something cheeky to say in response, when you’re truly at ease and happy where you are. Your expression says peace. The flowers around you bring out something wild in your soft smile. Your stare is just above the lens, fixed on Peter.
Before he can explain why he chose this field, why he chose his best friend, Robin makes a noise of approval and turns to the class.
“Okay guys, see now this is the advantage of doing portraits with a romantic partner- with someone you have a real connection with. See that depth in the subject’s eyes, and see where the eyes are fixed? On the photographer, right? Now, that’s something that can’t be faked.”
The sun had set. The room has darkened. But Peter is caught too off-guard to worry if anyone can see the way his cheeks were burning, or the way his drying mouth was hanging open. But you don’t feel the sa-
“The trick, Peter, is going to be figuring out how you can pull this from other subjects going forward,” Robin throws the words out so nonchalantly, painfully oblivious to the way his student’s head is spinning. “Now let’s take a look at the setting.”
The rest of the feedback is a ghost to Peter. It drifts by, vacant, untouchable, warping time and reality. All he can think of is you and that look in your eyes. How long had you looked at him like that without him noticing?
Or, more accurately, how long did he notice but not really know what it meant?
Needless to say, he broke land speed records sprinting out of the building the second class ended, and ripping his skateboard down the sidewalk towards your apartment just off-campus.
Oblivious to Peter’s crisis, you pick up a fork and make your way to the fuzzy blankets calling your name. Your roommates were out and it was the perfect night for Doordash and a marathon of that show you’d been wanting to see. You settle onto the couch, ready to press play, when you hear a frantic knock at your front door and Peter shouting your name through it.
“I know you’re in there!” He yells, still pounding. You lower your brow and practically vault over the couch trying to get to the door before he breaks it down with his fist.
“I’m coming! Jeez, Pete!” You yell back right before your fingers flip the deadbolt and you pull the door inwards. “What the hell’s the matter with y-”
“How long?” He demands, waging a glare so intense you suddenly feel like you’ve done something super wrong. Your mouth falls slack as Peter brushes past you to enter your apartment.
It takes you a moment to recover, to try and put together what the hell he was on about, and by the time you realise that he’s out of line coming in here with vague accusations, so you close the door and turn to face him, you’re met with the sight of his open laptop screen on your kitchen counter.
It’s a photo of you, from the wildflower fields. Something deep in you wants to internally cringe but… it looks real. Honest.
When you meet Peter’s eye, he looks the same way. Except there’s something desperate in his gaze.
“How long?” He repeated, breathless and wanting.
You open your mouth to respond and quickly realise you don’t know how to. Thankfully, Peter fills in the blanks.
“How long have you been in love with me?”
It’s a punch to the gut. That question. It sucks every bit of air from your lungs, from your throat, tears spring to your eyes and you don’t really know why. Maybe because it’s so out of left-field and you have no time for any other reaction. Maybe because of the despairing way he was looking at you, and you had no idea why he’d be doing this.
“Peter, please,” you choked out. It was useless to lie to him. “I’ve never expected anything more from you, I’m happy with-”
He takes a step forward. “How long?”
You cover your eyes with the heels of your palms and sniff in a cry. “I don’t know. A while, I guess.”
You feel him take another step towards you and you’re sure you’re done for. He’s going to step around you and walk out and never come back and-
“We’ve wasted so much time,” his gentle whisper comes. His touch comes too, weaving through your own, tugging your palms from your eyes just far enough for him to place his hands, cradling either side of your face.
You brave meeting his eye, and… peace.
Your shoulders release their tension, your jaw unclenches, your hands find rest around his wrists. In a feeble attempt to explain, you mumble, “I didn’t know if you were ready.”
The metaphysical mention of Gwen sends a bolt of grief through Peter’s heart. But it’s a grief he’s grown to greet like a friend; one that will always be with him, one that wants him to grow.
His thumb traces the warm blush on your cheekbones, wiping away a tear in the process. He didn’t do this right. He should’ve done this better but the pain and recognition and the want all melded into one and-
He stops overthinking and doesn’t waste any more time.
Peter ducks his head and kisses you like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like he already knows the contours of your skin, like he’s memorised the steady beckoning in your breath.
He’s a welcoming home. Under his hands, you find a refuge. When he steps into you, closing the space between your bodies, the heat of him is an all-encompassing embrace. You kiss him like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times before. It feels so right. The taste of forever is sweeter than any time you’d ever dreamed of it.
Because this time it’s real.
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starswimmingart · 2 years
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"Can you talk?" - that sounds like it could lead to some fun/sad times
Oooh thanks for sending in a prompt!! this was my first time trying something like this, and I had a lot of fun with it! This story takes place probably around chapter 3, I hope you enjoy! "Can you talk?" 1500+ Words CW: drowning
It had been a long… long day of travel. Or, night, really. The sun seemed as exhausted as you were as it barely began to peek up over the horizon, any bit of wave covering it in an instant from your view. While being a creature of the sea, you’d been swimming for an extensive period and everything ached from your whiskers to your tail fins. 
Any moment now, that sun is going to be blocked out by a lovely silhouette of land.. Maybe some trees… we’re too far south for icebergs.. Shit, I’ll take anything at this point. 
According to the boys’ navigation systems (and thank the stars that there’d been clear weather recently or you’d never get to land at this rate), it was only a short trip remaining until your next encounter with shoreline.
However, your eyelids were getting heavier by the minute, and your body felt like an anchor as you swam behind the two animatronics. Sun liked to stay near the top of the water, Moon swimming far below scoping out the trenches. You, needing to breathe air, tended to stay with Sun, although occasionally you liked to pop down for a peek of what Moon was up to. You swam up to the top again and took another big puff in through your nostrils, the cold morning air filling your nose, making it burn a little.
You let out a pitiful little sneeze.
Water splashed against your head and in an instant a bright cheerful face was directly next to yours. 
“Oh dear selkie, that was adorable!”
“Hello, Sun.”
The tall yellow animatronic had not let you out of his sight since you’d begun your journey a few days ago, and you’re sure the other grumpy blue one hadn’t either.. Though unlike Sun, Moon's intentions seemed to be less fascination and more of keeping you on a leash. Sun had just NOT left you alone for one moment, though, in all fairness, he really did seem to try. He swam juuust far enough away to make it feel like you had room to yourself, but stars forbid you so much as thought out loud because he snapped to your side in moments asking if you needed something. 
It was… a little endearing. Borderline annoying, yes, but endearing nonetheless. 
Ignoring your short answer, he dove straight into conversation (as if the two of you hadn’t just been chatting previously about ten minutes beforehand.. And ten minutes before that..) “I’m so so glad we’re almost near some land, aren’t you? Just look at that sunrise! I’m soooo looking forward to being able to charge back up again. Aren’t you looking forward to some rest?” He blinked at you innocently.
It was an obvious trap.
“No actually, I think I could keep going all day! I’m doing just fine!”
Despite their intentions on the surface, you still weren’t sure you could let your guard down around these two. The simple facts were they were much bigger and seemed much stronger than you and while they seemed nice enough… 
You swallowed. 
“I might even be up for skipping the next island, you know! 
So says the idiot half asleep and swimming. You know you need that rest. Do you want to drown?
The voice in the back of your head scolded you but you beamed at Sun, swatting it away in your mind's eye. 
Sun's gaze on you remained steady, his smile never wavering. There was silence for a moment, as he studied your face. He only replied with a small "Hmmmmmm.." before doing a happy spin in the water, returning next to you to float on his back. 
"But of course selkie, you know best! I'm sure a strong, brave creature like you could make this journey with no trouble! Moony and I are only just holding you back!" 
He wasn't buying it. 
"I'll leave your capable selkie self to your own devices then, maybe we will even skip the next island, if you're so sure!"
Uh oh.
You puffed up for extra emphasis "Oh absolutely!! I bet we would save so much time, it only makes sense!"
Oh my stars shutupshutupshutup!
He purred. "Wonderful! I'll go let Moon know!" 
Before you could protest (if your stubbornness would even let you) he dove off with a flash of his brightly colored fins into the depths below. 
Well.. shit.
Your navigator had just disappeared. 
You stopped swimming abruptly. While it was a pretty straightforward path ahead, towards the rising sun, you still didn't trust yourself to navigate so very far away from your home waters. 
You stared out into the great fiery ball on the horizon, slowly hoisting itself into the sky. It slowly.. got.. fuzzier..
Oops
Your body buckled. 
When you stopped swimming, apparently that signaled to your brain that it was time to rest. This was very inconvenient seeing that you were in the middle of the ocean. 
You took a gasp of air as you slipped under the cold water, bubbles filtering out of your nose as your vision tunneled. The air went wrong down your throat and your body coughed instinctively, sending saltwater cascading down your airway. Your limbs felt like lead, dragging you down.
I can't move, fuck, FUCK I can't. I can't breathe
You began to tip down, flipping in the water and pointed towards the bottom. Was it the bottom? Everything was so dark, dark. 
I can't...
Muffled, below the ringing that began to fill your ears, you started to hear voices, soft.. familiar.. 
-----------
"Selkie? Selkie!" 
Loud. They're so loud. 
"They're responding, Moon, loo-"
"Yes yes I see, I see!"
He's cranky, as usual.
"Selkie, can you hear us? Open your eyes, we need to see if you're fully responsi- SUN stop pacing like that it's very unhelpful." 
You could hear the solar animatronic whimper, and the footsteps that you didn't recognize being there before stopped. 
You attempted to crack open your eyes.
Bright. Oh stars did that noise just come out of me? Ah shit, OW, ow..
The pain in your throat and chest hit you all at once and you started to cough again, heaving and trying to open your eyes all the way. 
Large hands rushed to you, two against you back, one on your shoulder and one on your knee. Two of the four gripping tightly enough to bring you back to reality with the sensation. 
You coughed again. 
"Easy easy now selkie, don't try to sit up too fast..!" worry pricked Sun's ordinarily cheerful voice and finally, you managed to pry your eyes open enough to weakly look out ahead of you. 
Sun and Moon were crowded around you, looking over with concern, smiles gone from their faces. Sun looked positively distraught, guilty even. Moon watched you with coolness but with an obvious worry written on his face. He cleared his throat, as best a robot could.
"Can you talk?"
Hm. You hadn't thought to try. 
You opened your mouth to speak and out came an uncomfortable wheeze, and you lurched as you burst into another fit of coughs. Sun whined and covered his face in his hands. 
"Oooh no no no this is my fault, I saw you were tired, I shouldn't have left you alone even for a moment, and now you're hurt. I was only meaning to tease, I should've known better.."
Moon began to scold Sun for his self depreciation but stopped as you reached out your hands to gently set one on each of their shoulders (funny, you didn't remember having transformed). 
"H-hey."
Your voice barely sounded like your own, it was raspy and it stung. 
The bots fell silent, eyes boring into you and seemed to watch every breath you took. 
"S.. stop that, I'm okay." 
You didn't FEEL okay but jeez, if it got these two blockheads to stop fussing then you'd dress things up a bit for the time being. 
Finally, you took the chance to look around, and saw that you were on a beach. The sun had risen a decent portion into the sky and the warmth felt.. comforting. Like the comfort of being back surrounded by your pod. You closed your eyes again and felt yourself naturally sinking backwards into laying down. 
The two animatronics stiffened, and followed your hands as you went back. 
"..s'fine.. m'fine.. tired…" 
The pair was quiet for a bit while you seemingly got comfortable on the sand, and you could hear them shift. 
"Get some rest, selkie, we'll get moving again later this evening." 
They seemed to settle in place on either side of you and went still. You knew that they could internally talk to each other using their .. blue.. mouth.. tongue.. tooth? Something fancy, human stuff, whatever. You sighed, and tiredly reached up your hands once more and gently knocked on both of their backs. 
"Mmthanks, both f'you, not drowning s'good.."
You heard a content whirr and a few low chuckles. "We'd be very poor at our job if we let you die before we even got back, you know." Moon joked. 
"Mmmmmhm! Imagine we come all this way and turn up with no selkie! How very disappointing!" Sun tsk'ed a few times disapprovingly for emphasis and the dramatics made you chuckle, trying not to start coughing again. 
The sound of the waves gently breaking on the shore, sea birds, and the soft humming of the internals of the animatronics were the last things you heard before you rocked into a much needed sleep.
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whoistartaglia · 1 year
Note
Hi!! i’m not sure if i’m doing this right, i’m sorry if i am 😭 i’d like to request something for your 1500 follower event!
could you do second chance romance for the wanderer and kaeya? if you can only do one, then just wanderer
tysm and again sorry if i did this wrong!!
congrats on being the first one to send me an event prompt! thanks for the submission.
trope: second chance romance
including: the wanderer, kaeya
the wanderer.
the last time you saw the wanderer was exactly one year ago, in this very tavern. you didn’t think you would ever see him again, but here he is, seated in the same spot, drinking the same drink.
but still he’s… different, somehow. there was the outwardly differences—new clothes, new hat—but also a new look in his eyes. it’s not quite as hateful as before, but there is also something else you can’t quite pinpoint.
“are you going to keep staring at me?”
well, he still has that vicious tongue. you plaster a fake smile on your face. “is there anything else i can get you?”
the tavern’s patrons is growing sparse; the wanderer is one of the only ones left.
he doesn’t answer, and you turn around to clean up the rest of the bar. as you’re putting some glasses away, he finally says, “i’m only staying for about a week.”
“then i hope you enjoy your brief stay.”
“[name].” you turn, your gaze half angry, half hurt. a year later, and him leaving without a word still stung. he continues, “i’m sorry about last time.”
you turn back around. you don’t want to respond, but the words come our anyways. “you could have at least told me. or something.”
you deserved that much, at least. after all, you’d grown close to him in the couple months he was here.
“there were things… well, it doesn’t matter anymore. i’ll let you know this time.”
“no.” you snatch the half empty glass out of his hand. there’s an angry tear threatening to slip down your cheek, but your voice remains calm. “i don’t care anymore.”
“how else will you know about when we’re leaving?”
“why would i need to—“ you cut off. “did you say ‘we?’”
“i’m taking you with me this time, [name]. if i could’ve done that last time, i would have.”
you stare at him. a year ago, you confessed how much you hated being a bartender at this old tavern, wanted to get out of this port city. you expected him to sweep you away last year, like a knight in shining armor, only to be left disappointed and stuck.
“i couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you whispered, as close as to a love confession as you were going to give.
“neither could i.”
“then i’ll start packing.” to finally leave this town and discover the world, and with the wanderer no less… you couldn’t help the foolish smile spread upon your face. maybe he wasn’t the dashing knight all the books told about; to you, the wanderer was more like a thief in the night, stealing you away like a precious treasure to love.
kaeya.
if you really want to get technical about it, this isn’t you giving kaeya a second chance, or even a third one. honestly, you lost count how many times you and kaeya got together and broke up the next day. but even after all the blowout matches and tearful goodbyes, you just couldn’t stay away. and neither could he, apparent by the large bouquet of roses he clutched standing outside your front door.
“roses again?” you ask, opening the door. kaeya gives you a lazy smile and holds them out for you. you continue: “what’s this, the second time?”
“well, you seemed to like them the last time,” kaeya shrugs, plucking one out for himself. you grab the bouquet to try not to get overwhelmed by the sickeningly sweet scent.
“how romantic,” you drawl.
you open the door wider and go inside, kaeya following behind you. you place the bouquet on your dining room table, and whirl around to face kaeya, your face now serious.
“we need to talk. for real this time.”
“don’t you want to get back together?”
“yes. of course,” you respond tightly. then exasperated, “but kaeya! we have to stop doing this.”
how many times have you tried to win kaeya back, and how many times as he to you? you couldn’t even remember; if you’d been consistently dating him, you would have had your two-year anniversary by now.
kaeya’s own face falls serious, that deceptive charm fading. “i know.”
you both lapse into silence at that. you too have had this conversation many times. last time you thought was finally it… but one fight later and it was kaeya’s turn to show up with roses and apologizes.
“maybe… maybe we shouldn’t date.”
“what?” kaeya asks, alarmed.
you clarify: “i mean. i don’t want to take a break necessarily but, maybe it’s better if we stick to being friends and working from there.”
a look of understanding passes his face. you and kaeya nosedived into a relationship soon after meeting, never quite entering that first friendship stage. getting to know each other platonically first, and then working to romantically from there… it could work. at least it was worth giving a chance—nothing else quite worked.
“alright,” he says. “hello, friend.”
you roll your eyes, but indulge him nonetheless. “hi, friend.”
you both laugh at the absurdity of it, but you hope, desperately hope, that this works out. seeing the playful yet honesg look in kaeya’s eye, you have a feeling that it just might.
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ithaquasbbg · 8 months
Text
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
God I’m almost done with this month then I may take a very short break from long fics (1500+ words)- when I put them on Ao3 almost all of my fics are so long 💀
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
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Generations - Ithaqua & reader (platonic)
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
Reader is Ithaqua’s child. Woohoo (he seems like a good dad) child is probably around 2-4 years old.
Tw: none! Fluffy fic!
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
….
“Sunshine, it’s time to go to bed” Ithaqua holds you in his arms, kissing your cheek as you giggle in his arms. “Daddy! Five more minutes, please?” You ask, prompting Ithaqua to shake his head with a smile. “No dear, you need to go to bed.” He ruffles your hair as he walks you to your room.
The inside is modestly decorated, walls covered in drawings you had made of yourself and Ithaqua together, or animals you had seen outside. Ithaqua sets you on your bed after changing you into pajamas, kissing your forehead as he sits down next to you. “Can you tell me a story?” You ask, looking up at him with big eyes he’s never been able to resist, ‘just like your mother’ he thinks, nodding and leaving a kiss on your head. “Yes, sweetheart, of course I would.”
You snuggle up to him, feeling your fathers arms wrap around you. “When I was very little, like you, my mother used to always tell me stories about these little things called fairies” he starts, “do you know what that is, (name)? A fairy?” You shake your head, looking up at Ithaqua expectantly, excited for him to continue. “They are magical creatures that look like us, but they’re very little, and have wings. Mother always used to say that if you could capture a fairy, it would leave a little gift where you trapped it.” You immediately jump up at the idea, giving Ithaqua a very serious look.
“Daddy. We need to capture a fairy.” You tell him, crossing your arms. “Maybe if you get one, you will fall in love.” Ithaqua is unsure if he should be a little insulted at this, or if he should laugh. “(Name), you know you need to go to bed..” He quickly trails off when he sees the pleasing look on your face, instead sighing and picking you up as he leads you into his room. “Fine, I’ll help you make me a fairy trap.”
And so he helps you, or rather, does most of the work as you babble on and on about how excited you were to find a fairy. “Daddy, do fairies like sparkles?” You ask, holding a little container of glitter in your tiny hands. “Hm… let me think” he smiles and pretends to think for a moment as you wait. “I don’t see why not, Sunshine. Do you want to add some glitter?” You quickly nod and with the help of Ithaqua, put glitter all over the box.
Slowly, he manages to tire you out, picking you up along with the fairy trap and going to your room, tucking you into your bed. “Goodnight, sweetheart, I love you.” He whispers, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “..love you too, Daddy” you tell him before he leaves, slowly falling into dreamland.
This entire encounter leaves Ithaqua thinking of when he was little with his mother, back when things were more simple.
….
“Mama!” He exclaims, running to show the red haired woman some flowers he had picked, eyes shining as he smiles. “Oh, Itha, dear, is something the matter?” Mother asks, to which Ithaqua quickly shakes his head, handing her the flowers as he giggles. “No, mama, I got you flowers! They’re pretty, just like you!”
Baby Ithaqua adored his mother, and he’s filled with happiness as she picks him up instead, leaving kisses all over his face as he giggles “Mama! Stopppp!” She laughs along with him, eventually putting him down after he almost wiggles free, bright blue eyes giving her a playful glare. “I love your gift, little one.” She tells him, holding his hand as she walks into the kitchen, finding an empty vase and putting the flowers inside.
The rest of the night is spent playing together, a smaller version of Ithaqua giggling as his mother leaves kisses all over him for what must be the fourth time today, tiny little hands clapping together as she does so. But alas, good things must come to an end. “Ithaqua, baby” she holds him on her lap after brushing his wavy blonde hair, having given him a bath not long before. “It’s time for you to sleep.”
He pouts and crosses his arms, though it doesn’t work on mama as she picks him up, sitting down on his bed with Ithaqua on her lap. “Tell you what, sweetheart, how about I tell you a story?” Ithaqua nods, nuzzling his cheek against mothers shoulder. “Once upon a time..” she begins, continuing her story as Ithaqua trails off to sleep.
….
“And if you catch a fairy, she’ll leave you a gift.” Present day Ithaqua whispers, having his mothers story memorized by heart. Slowly, he puts a stuffed fairy doll in the trap he had made with you earlier, looking stunningly similar to his mother. “Oh darling, how I wish you had gotten to meet your grandma.” He whispers, securing the doll in the box as he gives you one last forehead kiss before he heads off to bed.
“Goodnight sunshine, sleep well.” He smiles at your sleeping face as he closes the door, excited to see your happiness in the morning.
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fanfoolishness · 11 months
Text
Warning Bells
Greez and Merrin talk about Cal after Nova Garon. Found family, family feels, We Need to Talk About Cal vibes. ~1500 words. Thanks to @gerundsandcoffee for feeding my feral Jedi feels with the prompts Merrin, Greez, Nova Garon, and rage! Spoilers for Jedi: Survivor.
---
Greez let out a sigh of relief, hearing the familiar clatter of Cal and Merriin climbing up the gangway.  He poked his head out of the cockpit to greet them, grateful to have them back so they could get off this blasted base.  “Oh, finally!  I was worried sick. Glad you both made it back in one piece,” crowed Greez, a split second before he did the biggest double take of his life.  “Cal, what the kriff are you wearing?”  He turned to Merrin.  “Don’t tell me.  He was fighting the entire base, wasn’t he?”
Cal slammed the controls to the gangway, retracting it back into the ship, and brushed off a smudge of blaster bolt residue on his uniform.  His Imperial white, officer-level IS-freakin-B uniform.  He gave Greez a wild look and smoothed the hair back out of his eyes.  “What?”
“I assume you needed a disguise?  Well, it looks terrible on you,” Greez said.  Cal’s face, already paler than usual, drained until it was an unhealthy white.  He looked abashed for a moment, but quickly recovered, his mouth hardening.
“Don’t worry about me, Greez.  Worry about Bode.  He got away.  Again.”
BD-1 beeped sadly, popping up from over Cal’s shoulder, still in one piece. 
Merrin clucked her tongue. “Do not despair, droid.  There is always hope.  Isn’t there?”
“I don’t know,” said Greez.  “We got no Bode, we got no compass.  Now tell me the truth, Cal, I can take it.  We’ve lost, haven’t we?”
Cal ignored him, striding to the holotable and inserting a disk.  Santari Khri filled the view.  
“What’s this?” Merrin asked curiously.  Greez watched as the holo said something about the compass, the one and only, the one Bode had made off with.  But Cal shook his head.
“This isn’t just the last goodbye,” he insisted.
The recording continued, showing schematics.  A map.  Cal paced to it, examining it keenly.  “There’s a control center here.  If we align the arrays we can create a flight path through the Abyss.”  
Greez snorted.  “Let me get this straight.  You want me to fly the Mantis through a ship-eating nebula using a tiny tunnel carved out by two-hundred-year-old tech?”
The kids were nothing if not predictable.  “Yeah,” said Cal at the same time as Merrin saying “Yes.”
Greez shrugged.  “All right, I’m in.”  What else was there for it?  They had to do what they had to do.  As he headed to the cockpit, he turned back to Cal.  “You gotta get out of that uniform, kid, it’s freaking me out.”
“I agree,” said Merrin.  “Better a man of many ponchos than an Imperial.”
“Oh, so now you’re coming around on the ponchos,” said Cal, but it was without a smile.  He nodded.  “I’ll go change.  Set a course for Koboh.  We’ll finish this.”  He and BD took off for the engine quarters, leaving Greez and Merrin alone.  She punched in Koboh’s coordinates and joined him up in the cockpit, taking Cere’s old seat.  
Cere…
Greez sighed, climbing into the pilot’s seat and getting the ship off the ground.  He’d be happy to see the last of this awful place.  He piloted the ship up and through, and got her safely into hyperspace before he at last relaxed.  He turned to Merrin, considering.
“You all right?  You’re awfully quiet over there.”
“I am fine, Greez.  As usual,” said Merrin, but she seemed distracted.  Distant.  Merrin was always aloof, even at her most social, but this distance felt accidental, out of her control.  Greez frowned.
“‘I’m glad you’re okay, Merrin.  It’s been good to have you back, you know.”
“It is good to be back.  I have missed your jokes, Greez, as bad as they are.”
“Now that’s a backhanded compliment if I ever heard one,” Greez laughed.  He paused a moment, then hedged, “And Cal?  Does he seem… a little off to you?  Like, driven, even for him.”  He avoided the word obsessed.
Merrin crossed her arms.  “I do not know.  But something happened out there, Greez.”
“He didn’t seem hurt,” Greez began, but Merrin shook her head.
“Not like that.”  She looked thoughtful, as if trying to choose her words carefully.  “He showed a side I have never seen before.  Powers I have never seen him use before.  He was so angry.  I could see it, I could feel it.”  She let out a long breath, and Greez felt a sick swoop in his stomach that had nothing to do with the motion of the ship.  If Merrin was unsettled, then he, Greez, was scared shitless.
“You’re scaring me, Merrin,” said Greez slowly.  “Talk me down, here.  That doesn’t sound like Cal.  I mean, I know he’s hurting about Cere and Cordova, the compass, the Archive -- we all are.  But Jedi are supposed to be careful with that sort of thing, right?  I don’t know much about the Force, but that sounds -- it sounds --”
“Dark,” she said quietly.  “In his eyes I could see something that wasn’t him -- except that it was.  I have heard him and Cere discuss Jedi and the dark side many times.  It is the same and yet different from the magic of my sisters, but it holds a danger for them that it does not for me.  I do not understand it, Greez, but I know Cal fears it.  And yet… if you had seen him…”
“What did he do?”
“I stopped him -- or, he stopped himself -- before he crossed a line he should not cross,” said Merrin.  She did not elaborate further, which was ominous; if Cal could spook a Nightsister…  “But I fear this may be a door that once opened is not so easily shut.”  She gazed at him, troubled.  “I do not doubt we will succeed in finding Bode and Tanalorr.  We must.  But we must not lose Cal to do it.”
“We’re not losing anyone else on my watch,” said Greez.  He blinked back sudden tears.  “This family’s been through enough, dank farrik.”
“Agreed.”
“Look, thanks for telling me.  Not sure what exactly a Latero pilot can do against the dark side of the Force, but I can keep after the kid to take care of himself, I’ve got that one down.”
Merrin chuckled, relaxing a little as he’d hoped she would.  “It is sweet to see how you fuss after him like a mother nydak.”
“I’d be offended, but the kid inspires fussing,” Greez said, shrugging all four shoulders.  “What am I gonna do, leave him to his own devices?  You shoulda seen the state of him when he first showed up in Pyloon’s a few months back.  Overgrown hair, way too skinny, clearly living off of caf and Turbo Dogs.  Looked like he’d been wearing the same clothes for weeks on end.  Without washing ‘em, mind you.”
Merrin laughed, leaning back in her seat.  “That sounds about right.”  Her laugh dwindled to a small smile.  “Thank you, Greez.  My heart is more at ease.  We will look after him together, you and I.”
“Look after who?” asked Cal.  
Greez swiveled around, wondering how much he’d heard.  Cal was back in his regular clothes, with a dark blue jacket that reminded him a little of the clothes Cal had been wearing back when he and Cere had rescued him, years ago.  But he wasn’t a scared scrapper kid anymore, fresh-faced and uncertain; this Cal was far more sure of himself.  
Which made Merrin’s information that much harder to understand.  Cal, using the dark side?  It was still hard to wrap his brain around.  He hoped, looking into Cal’s green eyes, that Merrin had somehow been mistaken.  
“You, of course,” said Merrin.  
Cal raised his eyebrows.  “I’ve been on the run for a decade.  I think I’m capable of taking care of myself.”
“Are you kidding me, Cal.”  
“You come close to death on a daily basis.”
“Brrrooop beep.”
“Really, Beedee?  You too?  That’s a low blow, buddy.”  Cal sighed and sank into his seat, leaning back and closing his eyes.  
Greez reached out and patted his shoulder.  “Hey, you know we only get after you because we care, kid.”
Cal looked over, giving Greez a small, careworn smile.  The kid looked tired up close, his eyelids reddened and puffy.  It put an ache in Greez’s chest.  Yeah… the strain was starting to show.
“I know, Greez,” said Cal.  “Thanks.  All of you.  I couldn’t do this without you.”
“Breeep!”
“We are in this together, Cal.  Always remember that.”
Hyperspace shrank and stilled before them, stars leaping back into pinpoint form.  Koboh and the Abyss swam into view.  Greez only spared a glance at the seething, roiling maw before firmly fixing his gaze back on the planet below.  One problem at a time.
“Come on, let’s regroup at the saloon.  It’s getting awfully emotional up here,” said Greez, trying to keep it breezy.  “Let’s get our plan of attack in line and get on this.  For the Hidden Path.  For Cere.”
“For Cere,” said Merrin.
“For Cere,” Cal echoed.  He watched their approach intently, his eyes sharp, his face drawn.  Greez shared a glance with Merrin.  
We’ll look after him.
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sirowsky · 2 years
Text
Don't Die
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Here comes the last of the prompts I've gotten for this celebration, and we're wrapping up with a heartbreaker! I got this ask by an anonymous sender, where the prompt was "You can't die. Please don't die." with Din x Reader, so naturally, my head went to angsty-land...
Now, as this concludes the 400 Challenge, I just wanna say thank you to everyone that sent me prompts and helped me to mark this occasion! I love all of you <3 And I'll always accept asks, requests and prompts, if I feel comfortable with the subject, so please don't hesitate to ask.
Rating: Mature Warnings: ANGST, Din Djarin x female reader, mostly Din's pov, AU. Grogu, Cobb Vanth, Peli Motto and Greef Karga appears. Word Count: 1500 Author’s Masterlist
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   “He’s pacing. He never does that…” Cobb says, as he observes the Mandalorian from an alley a few doors down the street.
   “Well then, I guess he’s real anxious bout that filly. What about it?” Peli huffs where she stands next to him, arms cradling the child that anxiously coos while he watches his papa.
   “Just creeps me out,” Cobb explains, still not taking his eyes off the man.
   “That’s it? Go talk to him, then. Ask him what’s going on,” she counters, throwing an arm in Mando’s general direction, but The Marshal just scoffs, raising a pair of incredulous brows at her.
   “I’d rather wrestle a mudhorn,” he shoots back, before turning to leave.
   “Scaredy-cat!” she shouts after him, but without much conviction. Because she sure as shit ain’t gonna over there either.
--------------------------------
   He waits. That’s all he can do. You’re in the hands of healers, your only chance of surviving, and yet he feels like there’s something more he needs to do for you. Not that he has a clue what that might be.
   You weren’t supposed to be there.    Why where you there?!
   He’s asked the question a million times by now, even though his own mind doesn’t know the answer and remains befuddled.    He’d left you on Nevarro weeks ago, under the pretence that Greef needed help with the rebuild, but really just because Din needed to know that you were somewhere safe, and then somehow, you’d found him in the middle of a fucking firefight.
   Something had exploded, you’d both been thrown like ragdolls, and where his beskar had protected him, you’d been broken.    He’d ignored the rest of the fight, crawling to you when screaming your name yielded no response, only to find your body in terrifyingly unnatural angles.
   And now here he is, pacing outside the healer’s hut in Mos Eisley, told that the damage might be too bad, but that they’d try.    He’d told them to succeed. Not asked. Demanded.    As if life could be saved by willpower alone.
   “Mando…” a familiar voice breaks into his consciousness, and he turns to seek out its owner.
   Greef’s hands come up in a gesture of peace as Din immediately stalks towards him, grabbing his clothes over the chest and harshly tugging him right up to his own visor, with the sudden anger that floods his blood.
   “I left her with you! You were supposed to keep her safe!!” he screams as much as growls through the modulator, but Karga looks only sad.
   “I’m sorry, my friend. She asked if I knew where you were… If I’d suspected, even for a moment, that she’d steal a ship to come find you…” he tries to explain, shaking his head at his own failure, “I’m so sorry.”
   Din’s anger still boils, but the man in front of him isn’t the real cause for it, and he lets go of him, stepping away again, back to the spot by the door that he’s all but carved a trail into with his incessant pacing.
   He wants to tell Greef how it’s all his own fault, for not telling you the truth, for not confessing the depth of his affection, the real reason for leaving you there.    And he wants to tell him how he’s dying inside at the thought that your life might be ending because of his own cowardice, but he can’t.
   He can’t say any of it out loud. Because this is for your ears, not Karga’s. You’re the one he needs to explain himself to. Make amends with.    Nothing else matters now.
   The heat within him instantly gives way to ice when the door suddenly opens, and the healer steps back to let Din’s broad frame pass.    But now his legs feel heavy and sluggish, his chest constricted, and his hands start to tremble while a cold sweat is absorbed into the fabric around his neck.
   Once inside, he’s shown into a room where a figure lies on a medical bed, with a sheet pulled up to the shoulders. All limbs seem to be in their correct places, and the large open gashes to the skin have vanished, undoubtedly a courtesy of the bafta-tank.
   Standing in the doorway, he’s too far away to see if you’re alive, and his knees seem to fill with nails, torturing him at every step, but he has to know.    As he gets closer, he can see the slow breaths and he wants to be happy, to believe that everything will be okay, but the healer looks too apprehensive to set his mind at ease.
   “I wish I could tell you that she’s all fixed, but the fact is… I don’t know,” the healer says, and his voice trembles, “Her body is fine, the broken bones and sores are easily put back together, but her mind… She was technically dead for quite a while before you got her here and I just don’t know if her brain can survive that.”
   He listens, tries not to hear, not to accept. And in the end, what lingers in his mind isn’t anything the healer said at all.    It’s everything Din himself hasn’t said.
   A small sideways swipe of his head is enough to communicate that he wants the room, and the healer and his assistant both leave without another word.    Willing his knees to move again, he comes to the side of your bed, digging your arm out from under the sheet as soon as he’s close enough.
   He’s barely ever touched you before, but now he has to, to feel the reassuring warmth and softness of living tissue.    But now that he has the chance to say all those things that he thought about outside, that he swore to himself that he would tell you if he ever got to see you alive again, all die on his tongue.
   Now that you’re there, only one thing matters anymore.
   “You can’t die. Please don’t die,” he whispers, desperation, pain and fear leaking into the words, making his voice crackling and brittle.
   It’s as much as he can get out, so he prays that it’s enough. Begs the stars to let him have another chance to tell you everything, swearing that he won’t let any cowardice stand in the way, if he can just have one more conversation with you.
-----------------------------
   “Nononono! Come here, you little womp-rat,” Peli admonishes, as she rushes to snatch the child up before he sneaks out of the hangar. It’s only his twentieth-something attempt.    “I know you’re worried, kid, but you heard your dad, you gotta stay here til he comes and gets ya. Ain’t nothing I can do about it.”
   The kid coos unhappily, pointing at the door, and those big sad eyes finally become too much for the tough-skinned but soft-hearted engineer.
   “Oh, alright! We’ll go and see that he’s still there, but that’s it! We’re not gonna bother him, you understand?” she demands, and the child just coos again, tilting his head a tiny bit to the side.
   She growls to herself, and then sets off in the direction of the healer’s hut, but upon arriving there, finds the alley where she and Cobb loitered earlier that morning, occupied by both him and Greef Karga.
   “Anything happen?” she asks as simply as if spying on one of their friends is a common pastime for them, as she joins in, while the kid twists in her arms, trying to see better.
   “He went inside hours ago, that’s all we know.” Greef answers with a shrug, and she sighs.
   “Sorry, kid. Looks like we’re still at a stalemate. Unless one of you boys wanna mosey on over there and find out what the blazes is going on?” she challenges, and both men turn their heads to throw indignant looks at her.
   “You mosey on over there,” Cobb counters, and she quickly points at the kid.
   “Hey, I’m the baby-sitter! I gotta do everythin’ round here?” she retorts, and then twitches as the child suddenly shivers and whines.
   Vanth doesn’t notice that and is about to retort when he’s cut off by the door to the healer’s hut opening, and they all freeze, staring down the street.    Peli feels the child shiver again, before his ears begin to droop, just as Mando slowly appears through the door, his right hand holding the wall to keep him steady, but it only works for a few steps.
   He falls to his knees. Slumps. His normally so intimidating frame seeming to shrink before their eyes.
   “Oh, no…” Peli whispers, feeling tears sting her eyes.
   They all stand there, unmoving, unsure of how to possibly help anything, but feeling increasingly heartbroken at the scene before them. Because Mando deserves good things. So, so much.
   Suddenly, the kid’s ears prick, and begin to rise again, as if he’s heard something interesting or fun. But what could that possibly be?
   Then Mando lifts his head, looks up at the stars and says:
“Thank you.”
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Thank you for reading, and if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging, I would greatly appreciate it <3
@deadhumourist @idreamofboobear @tanzthompson @winter-fox-queen @tiffanyleen @shsoba05 @toomanystoriessolittletime @nolanell @myfavpedrothings @harriedandharassed @bruxasolta @tintinn16 @littlemisspascal @sj-draws00 @gallowsjoker @spishsstuff @little-mrs-morales @bilibiche @thelion-sroar
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moorishflower · 1 year
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hi!! im absolutely astounded at the amount of depth and heart thats in all your fics, and im also very floored at the amount at which you write—im at a cross between admiration and maybe jealously lol!! I wanted to ask, are there any fic of yours (sandman or not) that you think are underrated/deserves more attention?? super excited for everything you ever write!!
asdfg anon thank you <3 So I have a Problem where I have a lot of anxiety about what I create, and when that's writing, if I am not writing The Next Great Novel, then I need to sate the brain demons SOMEHOW, and writing a LOT is the easiest way to do that. I want very badly to please people, and fortunately it's not a hardship for me to write the amount that i do, though I AM trying to consciously like. Take breaks if I need? Take a night off? Keep it healthy looool. But that I'm able to write things that people are consistently finding value and meaning in is a continuous and beautiful marvel to me so thank you, thank you very much!!!
So I read your second part of the ask wrong at first and had gathered uh several fics which I think are underrated that are NOT mine
One Half of a Whole by @violetequus8 - Absolutely REMARKABLE post-apocalyptic literature. Equus captures an entire world and history in 4000 words. There are sentences in this fic that rewrote my brain chemistry.
The entire like this slumber that creeps to me series by @tobrokenstone - THIS. This is survival the way I fucking LOVE IT. Bleak, stark, hard decisions, lasting consequences, surprisingly tender cannibalism (this last may be...specific to me and a few select others lol)
Once again repping the point-set-triangulation series by therm0dynamics, which is singlehandedly the series that got me into Hob/The Corinthian (it's about MIRRORS it's about PARALLELS)
And at this point I realized that you'd asked about which of MY fics I think are underrated, and I was just so caught up in the thought of repping my friends that I lived in a world where I did not write for a moment loool
Salt and Rye is the result of a prompt on tumblr. I wanted to try and capture that feeling of recreating a parent or grandparent's recipe and failing, because it's SUCH a disheartening moment, but I wanted to make it lighter, because Hob has someone there to share the comedy of it with him.
Here there be dragons is my latest fic in the Siren AU and I do think that people who aren't into scifi in general will be more likely to give it a pass, but I'm very proud of it, and very proud of the emotions it evoked in ME, and I promise it's not hard scifi like The Martian or even really pervasive scifi like Star Trek! I just tried to think realistically about what our planet would look like and feel like in 1500 years, and how we might need to leave it. Also, Dream's still a carnivorous octopus man.
an act of faith is the vampire fever dream that struck me at like 3pm on a Saturday and I blacked out for like two hours and this was what I'd written during that time. I enjoy writing obscene levels of devotion and you can't really get much more obscene than "willing to tempt death year after year even though no one's asked you to in order to prove to YOURSELF that your lover loves you"
Honestly I don't think many of my fics are underrated! They're all written at different points in my development and my understanding of myself as a writer, and they range pretty widely in terms of theme and genre sometimes, so some, statistically, are going to be kind of niche! And that's okay! I guess the only thing I'd say is that even if you think something isn't your jam, unless the tags are specifically triggering you give it a try! The worst thing that'll happen is you get a paragraph in and then back out again. An extremely smart person (it was @xx-vergil-xx <3) recently said something along the lines that part of healthy interacting with art is also knowing when to put it down, but it's also important to give different things a chance so that you learn more about yourself and your preferences. I myself am trying to expose myself to and write more angst? Because it makes me deeply uncomfortable to do so! But that's a valuable feeling to know and recognize! Idk i just think we all get different stuff out of writing and it's just nice that I've been able to provide something to so many people <3
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