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#it's for one of the kissing prompts
kingofthering · 7 months
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let's try to write angsty Rosquez after doing very fluffy Pedrenzo & Tom/Fabio prompts
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dumplingsjinson · 5 months
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List of “things to say after kissing” prompts
“Well… Kiss me more?”
“You taste like my new addiction.”
“I liked that. A lot.”
“Never again—”
“…Wow.” 
“That was bad, wasn’t it?” 
“I could kiss you forever.” (Forever ingrained in my brain fOR REALLL)
“That was really wet and unenjoyable.”
“Can you not stick your tongue in my mouth like that again? Damn.” 
“Consider me madly in love. With the kisses, not you.”
“That just woke something up in me.” 
“Yeah, so like… What the fuck?”
“I’m calling the cops on you for that terrible shit you put me through.” 
“That felt like my first kiss. Sloppy and weird and just not it.”
“Has anyone told you you’re quite amazing at this?”
“You said this was your first time kissing! You’re either a fucking liar or you’re a natural at this.” 
“I made the wrong decision.”
“O… Kay. So should we dissect that? What are we feeling right now?”
“That wasn’t in my itinerary today.”
“I mean, I could do with some more of that.”
“Just shut me up by kissing me from now on, won’t you?”
“Fucking come back here right now.”
“That felt like a crime against humanity.”
“Was that supposed to happen?” 
“You’re the only one I’m gonna wanna kiss from now on.” 
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luxaofhesperides · 2 months
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Final hour Ghostlights request! Soulmate AU where when your soul mate dies your soul mark expands. Duke was really heartbroken at first but now his soul mark makes it really difficult to keep his secret identity hidden because he is covered in a map of the cosmos. He has to use his shadow powers almost constantly to keep all the stars hidden! And and maybe they light up like actual stars when he uses his light powers.
He meets Danny at orientation or something at GU and they brush against each other and he just lights up like a supernova, all his stars literally blazing and he's just like "YOU!" Both excited and also OH MY GOD YOU ASSHOLE.
....I rambled a bit here I'm so sorry.
The thing about soulmates is that you don’t really know who they are until they die. And even then, most people never know who their soulmate was, only that they outlived them.
Duke became one of those people when he was thirteen. 
He didn’t even notice until he went to change and saw the watercolor swirl of nebula spill out from over his heart. 
One moment, he was tired and angry, ready to sneak out of his latest foster home to search for his parents and do all the things adults have failed to do. The next, he’s collapsed on his knees, shaking, unable to breathe as he tries to rip his soulmark off of his skin. He couldn’t think past the shock and horror of realizing that his soulmate is dead and Duke didn’t even know until that moment. 
They’ll never get to meet. 
Duke had never felt so alone before. 
He spent the next few days in shock, his mind a mess of static, unable to focus. He hid away in his room, buried under the covers, and his foster parents were understanding when he whispered my soulmate’s dead. They called him out of school and brought him food and water throughout the day, gentle encouraging him to eat something every few hours. 
But disaster waits for no one, and Batman was gone, so Duke pulled himself out of his misery and hit the streets again. 
So his soulmate’s dead. So his parents are gone. So Gotham’s falling apart.
No one’s doing anything about it, so it’s up to Duke to start fixing things. It’s not like he had much to lose.
Soulmates become a bit of a taboo topic to him, after that. He speaks of them to no one, avoids all conversation about them, refuses to stay when people talk about soulmarks. He tries not to look at his soulmark at all.
And then he takes a hit to the chest and patches himself up with shaking hands. For the first time in months he looks at his soulmark again and…
Did it… grow? 
Duke prods it gently, letting out a hiss when his bruised ribs protest at the movement. He remembers the mark being right over his heart. 
But looking at it now, it branches out, swirls of galaxy and constellations reaching out along his ribcage. 
Panicked, Duke grabs for his computer and looks up soulmark growth and webmd soulmark abnormalities.
Neither give him any answers, though WebMD helpfully suggests skin cancer. 
“I’m gonna ignore this,” Duke decides, and pulls on a shirt and goes to sleep. The less he thinks about his dead soulmate, the better. 
Time passes and Duke goes from being a Robin to being the Signal, a legitimate vigilante working with Batman. It’s nice to see Gotham start to settle, things falling into place. For once, nothing is awful; Duke’s found his parents and doctors are looking for a cure for long-term exposure to Joker Gas, Batman’s taking care of Gotham with a number of other Bats, Duke is getting used to his powers and slowly making a good name for himself out on the streets. 
He keeps his focus on protecting people and getting stronger, helping solve cases with the other Bats. No one mentions soulmates, so he keeps his ever expanding soulmark a secret. 
The only problem is that it keeps growing and Duke is concerned that it’ll move to a place he can’t easily hide under his clothes. 
And he does need to hide them. The more his soulmark has grown, the more obvious it is, especially when he uses his powers and the stars on his skin light up like the Fourth of July. He knows it’s abnormal, but it’s also his soulmark and he doesn’t want anyone, least of all Bruce, poking around trying to study it. 
The grief still lingers when he looks at it, but Duke has long since grown used to it. If anything, these days he’s quietly annoyed by how far the galaxies on his skin spread out, forcing him to take tank tops and shorts out of his wardrobe. 
There’s also the tentative hope that maybe his soulmate is immortal and keeps coming back to life after they die. And they must also have terrible luck, because they just keep on dying.
Case in point: his soulmark flares and spills out onto his shoulder and wraps around his bicep. It’s not the first time he’s seen it move, but it still startles him.
“Are you serious,” Duke mutters to himself, pulling at his sleeve to adjust it and hopefully hide his soulmark. The starts are bright against his skin, and while sometimes he likes to trace them with his finger, now is not one of those times.
As pretty as it is, his soulmark is also very obvious and will cause people to realize his identity if they ever catch a glimpse of it while he’s out as Signal. 
He sighs. There’s no choice but to live out the rest of his life in hoodies and sweatshirts. 
As if to spite him, his soulmark grows once more. 
Did his soulmate just die twice in the span of five minutes? That’s concerning. 
He wishes he could meet them just so he can shake some sense into them. Maybe tell them to stop dying since it’s stressing him out so much. Maybe stick by their side to make sure they never have to die again. He’s honestly not sure what he’d do if he ever meets his soulmate, but he has to do something. This has gotten out of hand.
At least seeing his soulmark grow doesn’t hurt as much as it did a few years ago. 
Lazily, he pulls at the light around him to hide the new portions of the soulmark on his arm from sight. It takes some focus, but he can hold it up long enough for him to grab a snack from the kitchen and retreat up to his room without being questioned by anyone. He could probably even keep this shirt on for the college orientation he needs to attend later in the day if the light works well enough to keep his secrets hidden. 
He’s expecting Alfred in the kitchen when he arrives, but is greeted by Dick clapping a hand on his shoulder, right where his soulmark has claimed space. Duke falters and works to keep the light from fracturing as he returns Dick’s grin. 
“Hey man,” he says, “What are you doing here? I thought you were out until Friday.”
“And miss a chance to hang out with you? No way. Besides, I wanted to give you a ride to your orientation.”
“You don’t have to,” Duke starts, only for Dick to cut him off.
“I’m going to,” he says, as if it’s a threat. “It’s been too long since we get to spend time together without a mask on. Are you really going to deprive me of this?”
Duke shakes off Dick’s hand from his shoulder, walking towards the pantry to find a small snack. “I guess not. It’s going to be pretty boring for you, though. I’m just going to listen to people talk about what college is like for a few hours.”
“We could always just walk around campus afterwards. I haven’t seen it since it was rebuilt after the last time Freeze attacked it.”
“Sure, that sounds fun. Thanks for offering to drive me.” Duke pulls out a box of Poptarts hidden behind stacks of pasta boxes and pulls out a pack for himself. He opens it and isn’t at all surprised when Dick steals one right out of his hands. 
“Meet me out front in an hour then.” 
And with that, Dick leaves, his stolen Poptart in hand, and Duke is left to shake his head and shove the Poptart box back into its hiding place. He heads off to eat his own snack, making sure no one is in the hallway as he lets go of his hold on the light. Already he can feel a migraine building with the immense focus he had to use to make sure nothing looked out of place.
At least Dick didn’t notice anything was off. If he can fool Dick, he can fool anyone.
Still, just to be safe, Duke changes into something with longer sleeves before he leaves and hops into the car with Dick. 
The drive goes quickly to the tunes of ABBA, both of them singing along as they head for the GCU campus. Parking is a bit tricky, but they manage to find a spot a street away and walk towards the student union, where tables are laid out for incoming freshmen to sign in and grab a folder filled with papers meant to help them. 
He waves to Dick and heads in once he gets his folder, and grabs a seat in the auditorium that’s close to a fire exit. 
It takes another twenty minutes for the presentations to start. The lights dim and Duke panics for a brief moment before drawing the shadows over himself lightly to hide the soft glow of the star etched onto his skin. 
They start with introductions, bringing in advisors, professors, and student ambassadors. Most of it is basic information that Duke already knows, so he zones out and plays with some shadows at his feet, where no one can see the way he twists shadows together like some dark magic form of finger knitting.
For the next hour, Duke halfheartedly listens to people talk about preparing for classes and keeping on top of schoolwork and learning how to ask for help. He’s saved enough college students that he knows the gist of things, and the orientation really doesn’t give him anything helpful. 
He probably could have skipped, but he wanted a normal college experience. 
He should have known that normal means boring as hell.
As soon as the presentation ends, an advisor encourages everyone to follow the schedule tucked into their folder to give them a half day modeled after a typical student’s schedule. Of course, all the classes are nonsense just to fill up their time, made to help freshmen coming into the college by covering topics such as how to write an email and an introduction to majors and minors.
Duke already declared himself as a Human Services major, his first step into becoming a social worker like his mom was. 
Also he totally knows how to write an email, what are these advisors on about? Do they really think people his age can’t write emails? 
Yeah, he’s ditching. The main presentation is really the only part that matters in the orientation. He’s not walking out on anything he needs.
Duke files out after the rest of the crowd, carefully letting the shadows slip off of him once he’s outside again. Instead of finding the first ‘class’ he’s supposed to go to in the Modern Languages building, he wanders off to find a quiet place he can sit down and wait until Dick finds him. 
Tucked away towards the back half of the campus is a small nook full of trees, bushes, and benches. Judging by the amount of cigarette butts left in the single trash can there, it’s a popular smoking spot. 
No one’s there, so the air is clean and free of smoke, so Duke heads in, hoping to sit down.
Someone else apparently has the same idea. He hops down from one of the concrete planters that’s keeping a bush contained and nearly falls on Duke.
They both shout in surprise, then Duke is moving without thinking, reaching out to steady the startled looking guy who accidentally jumped down in front of him. 
Duke only has time to take note of how blue his eyes are before his hands wrap around the guy’s wrist and Duke feels his soulmark flare with warmth.
In the shade of the trees, the glow of each star on his skin is obvious. It’s visible even through the fabric of his shirt. His soulmark, at this point in his life, stretches across his chest, his ribs, his back, and now his shoulders and upper arms. All the stars in that watercolor galaxy are shining brightly as if the night sky has been draped across his body.
Soulmarks only react like that for one reason.
“You!” Duke shouts at his soulmate, both elated to see that he’s alive and annoyed that he made Duke’s soulmark so large. “Stop dying! Do you have any idea how much stress you’ve caused me?!”
“Oh my god,” the guy says faintly, eyes fixed on Duke’s chest where his soulmark originally rested, shining brighter and bigger than any other star, as if he’s tucked a sun into his heart. “Oh my god,” he says again, with more feeling.
“I’m so happy you’re alive, but please stop dying. It’s bad for my health.”
“I think I need to sit down?”
He does look very pale and faint. Duke tightens his grip on his soulmate’s arms and guides him to a bench, gently sitting him down.
“You’re not about to die, right?” Duke asks. “I don’t think my heart could take it if meeting me killed you somehow.”
“No, no,” his soulmate manages to say, “I’m not going to die. Um. Wow. I didn’t know my soulmark would do that? Sorry.”
“Well, it’s not like you had any way of knowing. It’s all good, man. Just please stop dying.”
His soulmate winces. “Yeah, that’s not gonna be possible. Sorry. Again.”
What does that mean, though? What does it all mean?
“Can I maybe get an explanation as to why you have to die again.”
“Mmmmm no. We just met and it’s kinda personal so. No.”
“Dude.”
Duke’s soulmate shrugs helplessly. “It really is personal! I know your my soulmate and all, so I’ll probably tell you one day, but right now I don’t even know your name.”
Oh shit. He’s right. Introductions completely slipped his mind, too busy reeling over the fact that his soulmate is here and alive. Which, honestly, would be enough to throw anyone off balance.
“Shoot,” Duke says. “Sorry. You just really caught me off guard. Hi, I’m Duke, I promise I’m more put together than that.”
“Hi Duke, I’m Danny, and I’ve apparently been traumatizing you for the past few years by making you think I keep dying.”
“Well. At least we’re thrown head first into the crazy. Best way to know if we’re be a good match.”
“You sure you can handle this? You seemed pretty frazzled a second ago.”
Duke flusters and lightly whacks Danny’s shoulder. “That’s normal! Anyone would do the same when meeting their soulmate for the first time!”
“Fair enough,” Danny laughs. “This is a totally weird request and you can absolutely say no, but… can I see?” He presses a hand against one of the glowing stars beneath this collar bone, looking up at Duke with wide, hopeful blue eyes, and Duke finds it so cute that he’s willing to do anything Danny wants. 
“Here,” he says as an answer, pulling the collar of his shirt down a bit to reveal the nebula spilling onto his shoulder. 
“Oh,” Danny breathes, tracing a light finger against it. “It’s beautiful.”
“I’m guessing you like space?”
“Love it. I wanted to be an astronaut, but uh…. It’s never going to happen. Health problems, you know?”
“Well, I know it’s not the same, but I hope the stars you put on my body will be a good enough replacement.”
Danny cheeks turn red and he turns away, flustered. “Don’t smooth talk me right now, I’m not ready for it,” he mutters, bringing up a hand to try to hide his expression. 
“Sorry, sorry,” Duke laughs, “I’ll try to keep the flirting down to a minimum. It’s just really great to finally meet you. And I’ve been wondering, what’s your soulmark look like?”
“Oh, well…” Danny fiddles with the long sleeve of his shirt. “I had a pretty bad accident years ago that kinda affected how my soulmark looks. So if it looks weird, that’s why, okay?” He takes a deep breath, then pushes up his sleeve, holding his wrist out to Duke. 
The first thing Duke notices is the soft yellow glow, Signal yellow to be precise, running down his arm as if sunlight fills his veins. Then he sees Danny’s soulmark, a sun with rays that wrap around his wrist. And running through his soulmark are Lichtenberg scars, glowing yellow as if stealing the color from his soulmark. 
“Guess we both got super obvious soulmarks, huh? At least we kinda match, that way.”
“That’s one way to look at it,” Danny agrees. 
“Man, what a day.” 
Danny looks more relaxed with him now. It’s much better than the startled, tense version of him that first sat down on the bench. Duke hopes he chooses to stay with him; he doesn’t admit this often, willingly, or to other people, but he’s a romantic at heart and has always wanted to live a happy life with his soulmate. It’s still far off in the future, but he hopes Danny feels the same way.
“So, are you ditching the orientation classes to?” Danny asks.
“Yeah, there’s no way I’m going. I mean, a class on how to send emails? They can’t be serious.”
“I know, right?! I saw that and thought I was being pranked. I mean, we’re going into college. We better know how to send an email by now.”
“Since we’re both free for now, wanna grab lunch with me? It can be our first date, if you want.”
“I’d love to! And you can show me around Gotham a bit. I’m coming here for college, but I haven’t really seen the city yet. It’d be nice to explore it with someone who knows where things are.”
“Are you free for the rest of the day? ‘Cause I wouldn’t mind showing you around, if you want.”
Danny smiles, radiant. “I am. I’m in your hands for the rest of the day.”
“Cool,” Duke says, trying not to think too much on that wording. It’s very suggestive, very flirtatious, and he’s looking forward to getting to know Danny more so he can start properly flirting. “Lemme just let my brother know to not wait up for me.”
He pulls out his phone and sends Dick a text that just reads: met my soulmate. going on a date now. i’ll see u back at the manor!
Then he puts his phone on silent and tucks it back into his pocket. He’ll tell Dick all about this later; for now, all his attention is on Danny. 
Soulmates get priority, even stressful ones that give him the largest soulmark he’s ever seen. 
And right now, he’s on a mission to find the best lunch spot to take his soulmate to for their first date. Everything else can come later; for now, he’s going to enjoy the time he gets to spend with Danny.
He hopes they’ve got a future together as bright as the stars in his soulmark. 
Despite it all, Duke is sure they’re going to be alright.
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dxckgrxsonx · 1 year
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"you can pretend all you want, i can see the fucking mess you're making of yourself." + jason please my love??? i love e2l <3
Pairing - Jason Todd x (F) Reader
Words - 900ish
Warnings - 18+ SMUT - Graphic Sexual Content - Unprotected Sex - Cocky!Jason (he's good and he knows it) - Swearing
Notes - Hi my darlings!! It's been far too long since I've written something smutty so here you are!! Hope you enjoy!! <3
**
He pisses you off like nothing else on this Earth.
Broad shoulders, incredible skill, smart fucking mouth. He calls you in the middle of the night knowing you’d answer; knowing without a shadow of a doubt that even with you seething and furious and goddamn exhausted, you would still pick up the phone.
He’s smug about it and sometimes, just sometimes, you consider blocking his stupid number.
“I absolutely fucking hate you.” You greet, halfway into a snarl. Vaguely, you acknowledge that it’s not an ideal greeting, but it’s three in the morning and the thread of patience between your fists frays horribly when Jason steps out of the dark, already grinning at the look on your face. “I was sleeping.”
“And yet…” Jason says, watching you far too intently. “Here you are anyway.” He presses forwards, crowds you right up against the nearest flat surface, and tips your head up so you have no choice but to watch him pick you apart. “It’s almost like you can’t say no to me, sweetheart. In fact, I don't think you’ve ever said no to me…”
“Don’t.” You whisper, knowing where he’s heading. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
He presses on you hard enough to bruise; hard enough to scatter hairline fractures through your whole nervous system. It feels like static. It feels like an ache Jason carved into you with his own two hands–and his beautifully thick cock–to mark you as his own.
“You want this.” He breathes, mouth still pitched up in that wicked smirk and your entire world starts bending in the middle, moulding around Jason and warping under his capable hands. You can’t stand it: you hate yourself for it. “You get wet just thinking about it…thinking about me.”
It was a chance meeting and back then you were so goddamn stupid.
You could hardly walk after the first time, cunt stretched open and sore from how many times he opened you up with his fingers–with his cock. He was big and thick and he had no choice but to take his time to get your pretty pussy to yield to him–to let him in. He praised you the whole time, and then fucked you until you were trembling and whimpering and squeezing at his cock.
It was weeks before you heard from him again and nothing you did with your own two hands was enough.
You needed him and he knew it.
You need him now and he knows it.
There’s a wet spot soaking through your underwear and the second Jason see’s it he’s groaning something feral against your throat. Shoving you backwards onto the bed he chases and wedges his broad shoulders between your thighs before you have a chance to flinch them closed.
Grabbing at your knees he spreads you open and pushes your legs back until they’re almost by your ears. Your muscles burn at the stretch, and you try to wiggle out of his grip but Jason leans forward and drags his tongue over the slick fabric covering your weeping slit.
“Fuck you.” You gasp. Unable to think of anything but how much you hate him for what he’s turned you into and how good he makes you feel. “Fuck you so much.”
He laughs and it’s almost mean with how arrogant he is.
Jason releases his hold on your knees to unbuckle his belt and then he’s back, smacking the thick, heavy length of him against your covered pussy. He rubs the fat head through the growing damp patch on your underwear and your puffy clit twitches hard enough that he can see it throb.
Wedging the tip of his cock underneath the fabric he teases your soaked hole until you thrash a little and whine. Pressing in just enough to get you to stretch open around him he pulls back so he can do it again and you snap your jaw closed around the pleas building in your mouth.
“Say it.” Jason demands.
Sinking the first few inches into your soft, slick pussy Jason holds and waits, Lazarus eyes awake and interested in each trembling twitch of your body.
“I hate this.” You lie, unable to stop yourself from throbbing around the tip of his cock, arousal leaking and squelching out around the edges of him. “I hate you.”
“Oh sweetheart.” Jason hums, using one hand to pull your underwear to the side so he can see just how embarrassingly wet you are. Your slick sticks to the fabric and it stays attached to your pussy in thin strings “You can pretend all you want, I can see the fucking mess you’re making of yourself.”
Thrusting forwards he stuffs his full length inside you with one, rough stroke and you moan loud enough to shake the windows.
“Oh–ah fuck!–Jason.” You try, voice trembling.
“There you go.” He says. “I knew you wanted this. I knew your aching little pussy wouldn’t be able to say no to me. No one can fuck you like I can, sweetheart.” Shoving your knees apart he holds you so tightly you can barely move and watches his cock split you open. “Every time I call you, there you are, all mad and pretty and wet. And the second I get inside you, you go all soft and cockdrunk for me.”
“Uh–plea–please.”
“Yeah.” Jason grins. “Just like that. Now, let’s see how much you can come for me this time, huh? You managed three last time before you started crying. But I think you can do better for me, right sweetheart?”
**
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the-witchhunter · 10 months
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DP x DC: Animal House
Danny can apparently shapeshift, and that’s great!
or it would be great if it wasn’t for the fact he got stuck as an eldritch cat. On the plus side, he can talk to animals like this. Downside: He lacks thumbs and his powers seem to be on the fritz. 
Luckily, he got picked up by the Waynes who seem to think he is some kind of alien cat. It’s actually pretty cool. Lots of soft things and window spots to soak in some sunlight, and, hell, the homemade cat food actually tastes pretty good.
Plus he’s been making friends!
Alfred the cat and Titus are his favorites. Ace is cool but he’s more like an uncle figure. Batcow is chill, but Jerry the turkey is an asshole. Then Dick brings his dog Haley aka Bitewing, so Jason brings his dog Dog, and the whole batfamily of pets is there vibing with Danny.
Then a family emergency happens requiring all hands on deck. Everyone is out of the house and even Alfred is too busy in the Batcave keeping an eye on things to pay attention to the animals. So that can mean only one thing...
Party time!
Danny invites all the DC animals that I remember exists. Krypto the super Dog, Comet the Super Horse, Streaks the Super Cat, Beppo the Super Monkey, Rec the Wonder Dog, and of course Bobo T. Chimpanzee aka Detective chimp, the worlds greatest detective, and the alcoholic ape that’s going to supply the whole party with booze
That’s right, Danny is hosting an animal rager at the Wayne manor, and between his malfunctioning powers, the other super powered animals, and a lot of alcohol, things are going to get WEIRD
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guardian-angle22 · 7 months
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Tarlos Wedding Celebration Event [Week 14] -> favorite kiss(es)-> 4.16
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ollieartie · 1 year
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Gonna do my best to participate in some @sanusoweek ! Here's my day 1, Usopp grew Sanji some flowers...Sanji liked that....a lot...
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gameralica · 2 months
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Kiss Ryuji Day 2: Festivals
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nyoomfruits · 4 months
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"i think i deserve a kiss"
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“i think I deserve a kiss”
People underestimate sometimes, Oscar thinks, how much of being an F1 driver is just waiting around. Sure, it’s hectic too, being dragged from interview to sponsor event to actual free practices, qualifying, the race. But there’s a lot of in between moments like these, standing in one of the endless winding hallways of the MTC, waiting for their meeting to start.
Lando is next to him, bouncing from one foot to the next. He’s even worse at the waiting thing than Oscar is, fidgety and impatient, and whenever left waiting too long he gets-
“Kiss,” Lando demands. He’s bounded over to Oscar and is leaning down slightly, practically shoving his forehead in Oscar’s face.
Annoying.
“No, Lando, come on. We’re in public,” Oscar complains, glancing around. The hallway is deserted. It’s nearing 6pm, most people have already left for the day. Oscar and Lando are close to leaving too, just have to get through this one last meeting.
Lando pouts, wiggles. “Kiss,” he repeats, a little more demanding, a little whinier.
“Oh for fuck’s-“ Oscar cuts off, presses a quick kiss to Lando’s forehead, who beams. “There, happy?”
“Hm,”  Lando seems to consider it. Oscar prepares himself for the worst. “I think I deserve another.”
“Deserve,” Oscar says, flatly, raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah, for being like, the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”  Lando’s smiling now, that shit eating one he has that means he’s going to get what he wants no matter how Oscar plays his cards. Horribly enough, he’s right. Oscar’s rather weak for him, unfortunately.
“You’re the only boyfriend I’ve ever had,” Oscar says, but dutifully presses another kiss Lando’s forehead, who hums happily and doesn’t press his luck for a third one, just rolls his head onto Oscar’s shoulder instead.
“Wish we could just go home,” he mutters into the fabric of Oscar’s hoodie, and Oscar smiles, reaches up a hand to tug Lando a little closer.
“Soon,” he says, and then presses another kiss to the top of Lando’s head.
Lando’s right, after all. He deserves all the kisses he can get.
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heynhay · 11 months
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*fnaf kids cheering noise*
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linkito · 4 days
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scarian 34 maybe.. but theyre in love..
#34 …to pretend.
Scar’s honestly not sure what Scott is on about with his whole Relationship Ranch thing. He’s not as obtuse as Grian is about it, pretending like their relationship isn’t mangled and strained, like the idea of couple’s therapy is entirely unfounded for the two of them, but— the goats? Really? Even at their worst, he and Grian aren’t stupid enough to get hit by a goat.
Even at their worst, they’re still a team. None of these trust-building activities are of any use to them.
The only reason Scar is going along with it at all is because of Scott. Scott who might know the most about the ins and outs of his and Grian’s complex relationship throughout these life games. But he’s beginning to have his doubts. Scott seems distracted.
Grian seems to have the same idea, because this time he calls Scott out when he pulls out his communicator for about the dozenth time. “Who do you keep talking to?”
Scar instantly dogpiles onto the accusations. “Are we not important enough for your undivided attention, doc?”
“No, you’re very important!” Scott protests, stuffing his communicator away. Scar narrows his eyes in tandem with Grian.
“Maybe he realizes we don't need this after all, G,” Scar says with a shake of his head, eyes flicking upward to watch for Scott’s reaction. As expected, Scott twitches nervously and immediately begins to wave his hands in placating disagreement.
But Grian speaks before Scott can. “Yeah, we’ve passed all your little tests, so what are you on about anyway?” With a disgruntled huff, Grian slots in beside Scar and crosses his arms, looking Scott up and down with the same level of scrutiny. “Scar and I are fine.”
It almost feels true when Grian is leaning into Scar’s space like this, taking his side like they have a common enemy, playing up the charade as much as Scar is to push at someone else’s buttons. On that rare occasion they’re on the same page, things do actually seem fine.
That’s possibly the worst part of it all— the almost fine.
Scott takes a moment to compose himself, now on the defensive as he speaks slowly and calmly. Unfortunately for him, however, he chooses the wrong words:
“But back in the desert—“
Both of their faces sour instantly, for different reasons perhaps, but they can both agree on one thing: that those words do not belong on Scott’s tongue.
Grian is partway through muttering a bitter “that’s none of your business,” when Scar chimes in with a theatrical twirl of his hands and solemn shake of his head, stepping forward so Grian is behind him and doesn’t have to address the unfinished accusation.
“Oh, Scott, come on now,” Scar says with a twinkle in his eye, slipping on the mask of a man not-scorned in order to pry himself from this situation. “That was then and this is now! People change! Relationships change! That isn’t always a bad thing, is it?”
Scott blinks, trying to keep up with Scar’s rapid-fire string of almost nonsense. “Uh.”
“Exactly!” Scar says, as if it were an agreement. He turns to face Grian, but keeps his feet pointed toward Scott, ever the actor, never fully turning his back to his audience. “But we’re perfectly happy, aren’t we now, Grian?”
Scar loops an arm around Grian’s back, tugging him closer and lowering his face so it’s level with his soulmate’s, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
His words pose a challenge, one Grian is intimately familiar. Scar rests his hand just beneath the base of Grian’s wings, where he used to hold onto when they embraced, when he would scoop Grian up into his arms and kiss him senseless while the scorching sun beat down on their necks. There’s that same level of firmness Grian had grown accustomed to paired with the gentle graze of fingers over his cheek from Scar’s other hand— that strong sense of security combined with unparalleled tenderness.
Grian doesn’t even realize he’s parted his lips, leaning forward in dizzying anticipation, acting on instinct alone, leaving all his senseless doubts behind as Scar slowly leans in closer, lips only a breath apart.
Scar’s hand trails over Grian’s cheek, ghosting over his jaw, then settling perfectly in place to hide both their lips from Scott’s prying eyes.
And then Scar smiles, and something about it is askew, something Grian can’t quite place— it’s too crooked, almost self-satisfied, almost—
And just like that, Scar pulls away.
“See?” Scar says, eyes flicking over to Scott, who, according to Grian’s short-circuiting brain, no longer existed at all. “Perfectly happy.”
It takes Grian far too long to realize those words were directed at someone else, or that there was not, in fact, sand at his feet and hot air brushing through his feathers. Scar is still speaking, and none of it is directed at him, because they aren’t alone atop a mountain of sand, in their own private corner of the world. They’re in a new game entirely, one where things are far too similar, yet not the same at all.
One where he definitely didn’t expect Scar to kiss him for real.
One where he definitely wouldn’t have let him.
“Grian,” Scar calls, snapping him out of his dazed state, and Grian hopes to god he doesn’t look too desperate when he glances up at him. “I’m pretty sure the rest of the server is tearing up our base looking for sugar cane.”
“They’re what??”
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puppetmaster13u · 5 months
Text
Prompt 143
You know what I think would be hilarious. The batfamily (or even all of Gotham but it’s dismissed as just another Gotham tale by Outsiders) being able to turn into cats. Not big cats either but like, housecats. And none of their teams know. 
They think that the cats must be their local bat’s, because the collars have their symbols on them. And honestly how else would this giant fluffball get onto the Watchtower? Now of course they would have told the teams all eventually, but well, it’s become a competition now. How long can they keep this under wraps, and which of them will win in keeping it hidden. 
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luxaofhesperides · 5 months
Note
Could i request a ghostlight where danny can turn into a dragon, it could be though a curse or just training from queen dora?
Like dragon Danny seeing the yellow signal outfit and thinking "mmmmm gold, shiny, must take".
He should probably be more worried about being cursed.
Scratch that, he should definitely be more worried about being cursed. However, it wasn’t done intentionally or in bad faith. This is just the consequences of him, Sam, and Tucker fucking around and finding out when left unsupervised with the grimoire of a long dead witch.
In their defense, they didn’t know Tucker could use magic. This revelation both upset Tucker, who refused to be swayed from tech, and Sam, who thought she was a better fit for magic considering how goth she is. Danny hadn’t really cared, since he was too busy being turned into a dragon. At least it isn’t like with Dora’s necklace; Danny is still himself, can think clearly, and isn’t overcome by rage. 
He’s just… Danny. But as a dragon.
“Well, you do something to fix him then!” Tucker shouts, waving a hand in the air angrily, “Since you want to be so good at magic, you do it then!”
“I would if I could! But you’re the one who gets to use magic, so figure it out and turn Danny back!” Sam shouts back, getting in Tucker’s face with a fierce scowl.
Danny sighs, shifting uncomfortably. His room is not big enough for a dragon, and his back is starting to cramp up. He looks longingly out the window to the clear skies that call to him, and wonders when his friends will stop fighting. 
They keep shouting, so he doubts they’ll be able to focus on actually helping him for at least another hour.
The only silver lining about the situation is that Jazz and his parents are gone, taking the weekend to visit a few colleges so Jazz can decide which one she wants to go to. Though he’s been cursed into dragon form and his friends are yelling about it, at least his family can’t make it any worse with their attempts to ‘fix’ things. 
There’s a lull in the yelling, Sam and Tucker both turning their attention back to the grimoire. Danny shifts his wings, tail flicking slightly, and leans his head closer. He wishes he could help figure this out, but he can’t talk in this form, and any attempt at charades will destroy his room. 
His friends look focused, at least. So maybe they’ve decided to focus on finding solutions instead of fighting. 
“Here,” Sam says, shoving the grimoire over to Tucker roughly. “Try that.”
Tucker reads over the spell, then scoffs and pushes the grimoire back. “That’s not going to fix anything. Didn’t you read it? It clearly says truth is the greatest revenge, revealing one’s true form force it into light. It’s talking about making people who are secretly cruel turn ugly or something like that! It’s not going to do anything for Danny!”
“It says one’s true form and Danny’s is a human! That would work!”
And they go right back to arguing.
Danny sighs, turning to stare out the window again.
In any other circumstance, being a dragon would be so fun. He has wings! He’s big and has claws and can probably breathe fire! And it’s not making him act on animal instincts or anything! If he could just be outside…
He glances at Sam and Tucker again. 
Maybe he can go outside, enjoy the curse a bit before they figure out a way to undo it. Spend some time flying around with wings. 
All the curse did was turn him into a dragon. It just changed his form. If he still has his ghost powers, if the curse didn’t change his nature from halfa to dragon…
Carefully, Danny focuses on his tail and tries to make it intangible. There’s a strange sensation of ice running down his spine, then it goes into his tail. In the next second, his tail drops through the floor, and Danny bites down a grin. 
He is so out of here. 
He gives Sam and Tucker another glance; they’ve got their heads bent over the grimoire, paying no attention to him. 
Perfect.
Danny goes fully intangible and sinks through the floor of his bedroom, then maneuvers his way outside the house. As soon as he’s out, standing beneath the sunlight and able to stretch out his new body, Danny pulls his power back and takes a few careful steps on the grass, testing his balance. His wings shift on his back, and he stretches them out, feeling the way his new limbs move.
Everything feels natural, as if he’s always been a dragon.
Taking a deep breath, Danny spreads his wings out and takes off running. A few hard pumps of his wings gets him into the air, and he can’t help but let out a joyful roar. 
Distantly, he hears Tucker and Sam yelling again, but he’s too happy to be free of that room to care. Let them argue. He wants to have fun.
Staying in Amity Park is a no go; Val might go after him, thinking he’s a threat, and ghosts could pop out at any time to cause problems. He might as well take this chance to fly around wherever he wants. Chicago wouldn’t be too hard to reach with how fast he’s flying, but he’s been there before and doesn’t want to stay in Illinois. 
What other big city is nearby that he can fly to?
New York?
Or, better yet, Gotham. 
It’s definitely a bad idea, but if any city is able to handle a dragon appearing without warning, it would be Gotham. Plus, he might get to see some of the heroes in action! Sure, it’s the middle of the day, but surely a dragon is a good enough reason for Batman to show up before the sun sets. 
Mind made up, Danny flies up into the clouds and heads towards Gotham, following the roads out of Amity Park. 
The flight is quick. It takes barely over an hour to see the dark figures of Gotham’s tallest buildings, fog surrounding the city like something out of a horror movie. The sun glints off the ocean behind the city for a rare, cloudless day. He’s heard stories about Gotham’s weather, how dreary it is, the occasional acid rain, the gloominess of it all. As bad as his luck is, it seems that the sunny day is trying to give him something good to even it out after being cursed into a dragon.
Excited, Danny angles himself down, diving out of the lower clouds and shifts his wings to catch on a wind current that smoothly sends him towards the city.
Just to be careful, he goes invisible as he gets closer, staying out of sight once he enters the city proper. 
Noise overwhelms him immediately, cars honking and voices yelling, the occasional gunshot and sound of something breaking. It makes Danny wince, disoriented enough to make him falter as he flies above the streets.
Amity Park is quiet and peaceful in comparison, so much so that he hadn’t realized just how enhanced his senses had become in a dragon’s form. 
The sounds of everything are so much, and all the movement of such a big city is dizzying. At least he can’t smell anything but salt from the sea; if he had to deal with the constant smell of blood, guts, and sewage, he would find a way to fully die to get away from it.
He slows down to a smooth glide, weaving his way between buildings as he takes in the city. Even with the sun out, it’s gloomy, the tall buildings casting shadows across the streets, a mix of art deco and gothic architecture filling up the space. He wonders if he should find some place up high he can rest, maybe bathe in the sun for a bit until he felt like moving again. If he managed to fall asleep, that might give Sam and Tucker enough time to figure out how to undo the curse.
“Ow! Shit, that hurts.”
Or he indulge in his curiosity and check up on whoever just cursed loud enough to be heard over the ambient noise of Gotham.
It takes a minute of searching before Danny’s eyes zero in on a bright flash of yellow moving across rooftops. 
All other colors seem dull in comparison, and Danny has just enough time to think, Oh, there’s the dragon instincts taking over, before he’s flying after it, unable to focus on anything else.
Every time the yellow leaps out of the shadows, it’s as if it glows. As if Danny’s chasing sunlight. 
He gets close, but loses the yellow every so often with how he has to maneuver around buildings, putting his new flying abilities to the test in an effort to keep up.
Then the yellow comes to an abrupt stop. Danny can’t stop in time and flies past it, tilting his body and spreading out his wides as far as he can to make a tight turn. 
“I’m fine, just bruised up, but I feel like I’m being followed,” the yellow says to no one. There’s a pause, and then the yellow says, “I don’t see anything, is the thing.”
If the yellow has anything more to say, it doesn’t get the chance to do more than open its mouth before Danny’s crashing into it, tackling it to the ground. 
He’s elated as they roll across the roof, the living sunlight caught safe in his arms. He holds it close to his chest, protecting it until they come to a stop, dropping his invisibility as a low rumble builds in the back of his throat. The dragon brain has thoroughly taken over, and it takes far too long to wrestle control back from it.
Once he’s able to think more clearly, Danny looks down at the poor guy he’s caught and realizes, hey that’s a hero!
And then he realizes, that’s a hero. I fucked up.
He tries to say sorry, but all that comes out is a low chuff. The hero, who he can recognize as the Signal because who else wears mostly yellow in Gotham, leans back as much as he can, trapped in Danny’s grasp.
“Hey, dragon,” Signal says nervously. “I’m really hoping you didn’t catch me because you were looking for a snack.”
Danny huffs, bumping his head against Signal’s chest. He hopes he doesn’t come across as aggressive, because all he wants to do is laze around with a hero, his dragon brain happy to keep hold of its yellow sunshine.
He’s not going to let go of Signal, though. He intends to make the most of this moment while he can.
“Okay. You seem friendly? That’s good I guess.” Signal sighs, then tries to wiggle out of Danny’s grip. Danny doesn’t budge until Signal gasps and curls into himself, clearly in pain.
Worried, Danny lets go of him and tries to see what’s wrong, his snout poking against the Signal’s ribs.
The Signal hisses out a breath, trying to push Danny away. “Stop, don’t do that. Man, I hope my ribs aren’t broken. That would suck.”
That would suck. Rib injuries are the worst, and the bruises always seem to stay longer on ribs than anywhere else, in Danny’s experience. He would love to offer the Signal some ice, but as a dragon, he’s not sure how to use that particular power. He settles instead for backing off and making himself small, offering an apologetic rumble.
“Thanks,” Signal smiles, gingerly uncurling from where he’s hunched over, an arm crossing his stomach, protecting it. “I guess you’re friendly, then?”
Danny nods.
“...And you can understand me?”
Danny nods harder, a high pitched growl slipping out of his mouth. 
“That’s so cool. What are you doing here in Gotham?”
It’s not a yes or no question, so Danny’s stuck on how to answer when words are so far out of reach. He shrugs, wings shifting against his back, then carefully bumps his head against the Signal’s helmet. 
“Yeah, that was a bad question. Do you need help?”
Danny scrunches up his nose as he thinks. He is cursed, but so far, being a dragon isn’t all that bad. It sucks that he can’t talk, but everything else is cool! He just doesn’t want to be a dragon forever. But it’s nothing the Signal can help with, so Danny just shrugs again.
The Signal tilts his head. “Alright. I guess I’ll get going then, and you can chill up here.”
The low growl comes suddenly, without him even thinking, and Danny wraps himself around the hero again. Distantly, he thinks that he should stop, that this is technically holding the Signal in place against his will, but the much louder, dragon part of him is deeply upset by the thought of the Signal leaving while he’s injured. Danny can protect him, so there’s no need for him to go anywhere! In fact, he’s only safe as long as he’s with Danny!
He leans more of his weight onto the Signal until they both fall back onto the roof, pinning the hero in place. 
Danny tries to be gentle, but the impact still makes Signal groan, tensing up in pain.
Sorry, he tries to say, the words coming out in a low chuffing noise. He draws his tail up to curl around the Signal so he’s completely surrounded by Danny, kept safe from anything that would try to attack him. 
Letting out a breath, the Signal lightly knocks his head against Danny’s neck, the helmet barely felt through Danny’s scales. “Alright, Oracle, can you send someone to my location? I’m a bit stuck.”
It’s hard to hear, but Danny manages to make out a voice saying, “Black Bat is heading there now. What’s wrong?”
“I’m a bit stuck.”
“Injured?”
“Just my ribs, but that’s not really the problem. There’s a dragon who’s very determined to keep me on this roof.”
“A dragon,” the voice repeats. 
“Yeah. It seems to like me? But it’s also not letting me leave. So. I’m stuck.”
There’s a pause, then a soft burst of static before the voice says, “I’m going to send a message to everyone else just in case they’re able to provide any back up. I’m sure Tim is looking for an excuse to ditch Bruce at that accounting meeting.”
“Guess I’ll just wait to be rescued, then,” Signal says, sighing. Then he tilts his head up to look at Danny. “Is there some way you could talk to me? To pass the time. Maybe morse code? Do you know what that is?”
Dragon brain makes him stupid, apparently, because Danny does know morse code. He didn’t even think of alternative ways of communication once he discovered talking was impossible with his new vocal chords. 
It’s probably not even dragon brain. It’s just Danny brain that makes him like this.
Embarrassed, Danny drops his head onto the roof, drawing his tail closer to himself so it can cover his eyes, his best attempt at hiding his face. Then, with one sharp claw, he taps out Y.E.S.
“Oh! So, what’s up?”
N.O.T. D.RA.G.O.N. H.U.M.A.N. G.O.T. C.U.R.S.E.D.
“Why did you say you didn’t need help if you got cursed?!”
Danny wants to say it was an accident, but has no confidence that he can spell ‘accident’ correctly, so he goes with F.R.I.E.N.D. M.A.D.E. M.I.S.T.A.K.E.
“And can they fix it?”
I.D.K. T.H.E.Y. W.E.R.E. F.I.G.H.T.I.N.G. Danny huffs out a breath, flicking his tail in annoyance as he uncurls slightly, giving Signal some more breathing space. He doesn’t look as stressed out anymore, which is nice, but he still holds his ribs tenderly, careful not to move too much. G.O.T. B.O.R.E.D. L.E.F.T.
The Signal taps his own fingers against the roof, thinking after he takes in Danny’s words. “Do you think we can call them and see if they know how to fix it? I doubt you want to be a dragon forever.”
N.O. P.H.O.N.E.
“It’s cool, we can use mine.” And he pulls out a cell phone from… somewhere. Danny has no idea where. It’s like he blinked, and a phone suddenly appeared. His hero suit probably has a lot of hidden compartments and pockets to hold as much stuff as possible, but it’s so well designed that Danny can’t begin to think of where he’d put anything. Especially when his dragon brain keeps getting distracted by how nice the yellow is.
Danny taps out Tucker’s number when Signal asks for it, watching as the call connects and is put on speaker.
“Hello?” Tucker’s voice says, hesitant and a little distracted.
“Hi,” Signal responds with a mischievous smile, “Do you happen to be missing a dragon? Cause I’ve got one here who’s hoping he can get a little help from a friend.”
Danny hears something clatter on Tucker’s end, then Tucker starts yelling for Sam. He’s not quite able to bite back his laughter, entire body shaking with it. The Signal keeps his composure better, but he does share a glance with Danny that has him biting his lip, trying to keep his smile from growing.
“Where is he?!” Tucker demands, and for a moment Danny feels ashamed of how much stress he’s putting his best friends through. And then he remembers them fighting nonstop while ignoring him and doesn’t feel bad at all.
“Gotham.”
“...Gotham,” Sam repeats. Her voice is flat in the way it always gets before she verbally (and sometimes physically) tears someone apart. Danny winces hard enough that it jostles the Signal, making him glance back at Danny.
“Yeah. Gotham. He said he was cursed?”
Sam sighs heavily. “Yeah. Not my fault. It is Tucker’s fault, though.”
“I think I found the solution though! And also, it was an accident. You were the one who wanted to read the grimoire.”
He can tell they’re gearing up for another fight, so Danny lowers his face closer to the phone and lets loose a dark growl. It shuts them right up, and he briefly wonders about learning how to growl like that as a human, since it’s so effective.
Tucker clears his throat, and continues as if nothing happened. “Anyways. The cure. The thing that will make Danny stop being cursed.”
There’s another long pause.
“The cure…?” Signal prompts.
“Kisses.”
“Sorry, what?”
“It’s kisses.”
“Like… true love’s kiss?”
Danny hopes it’s not true love’s kiss. If it is, he’s never going to be human again. Who would his true love even be? As much as he liked Valerie, that ships sailed long ago. And he loves Sam and Tucker, but not quite like that. 
“No. Thankfully,” Sam says. “Just kisses. What matters is the amount, not the person it’s from. So whoever you are, we’re gonna need you to be giving Danny as many kisses as possible until he’s human again. We’re also on our way to Gotham now. Johnny’s offered us a ride.”
On cue, an engine revs loudly. 
“We’ll be there soon!” Tucker shouts over the engine, and the call ends just a second later. 
Danny huffs, shaking his head lightly.
“Interesting friends you got there,” Signal comments idly.
Y.E.S. Danny taps out. L.O.V.E. T.H.E.M.
The Signal sits up and moves away from Danny, who has to stomp down the urge to curl around the hero tighter to keep him in place. He stands up, putting his phone away, and looks over Danny. His gaze feels like a physical weight, moving from his face, and the horns on his head, to the scales covering him, to his wings and tail.
His tails flicks back and forth nervously. Danny can’t get it to stop.
“Dragon,” someone new says, startling Danny. He spots the newcomer immediately, a lithe figure in all black perched on the ledge of the roof. Her voice is rough and he can’t see her face at all, fully covered as it is in her mask.
This must be Black Bat. He doesn’t know much about her; no one does, with how she’s managed to avoid being photographed and how rarely she is seen by anyone at all. He honestly wasn’t sure if she was real or not, but here she is.
“Hey,” Signal greets easily, “We need to kiss him better.” 
Black Bat tilts her head. “Kiss… dragon?”
“He’s cursed. And kisses will fix him. Not true love’s kiss, but just a lot of kisses.”
“True love’s kiss?” she repeats.
“Oh, shit. I guess you haven’t read any fairy tales?” Black Bat shakes her head, and Danny wonders how she’s managed to avoid all fairy tales for so long. They’re usually among the first stories children are exposed to. “Yeah, in a lot of those stories, a curse can only be broken from a kiss by someone by love.”
Black Bat nods slowly, and it’s clear she doesn’t really understand, but she does hop off the ledge and walk over to Danny. She pulls up her mask to reveal her mouth, then looks to the Signal for guidance.
“Like this,” Signal says, then leans over and presses a soft kiss to Danny’s cheek.
If he were human, Danny would be blushing madly. As it is, he has to force himself to stay still and not hide his face in his hands, claws and all, from how flustered he is.
Black Bat follows in suit, dropping a delicate kiss to the top of his head. 
Danny loses track of how many kisses he gets, all over his face, beyond flustered by the amount of affection two heroes are showering him in. It’s just to break the curse, but it’s still a lot of kisses! 
Signal kisses the tip of his nose, and there’s a flash of light. Danny feels himself change, growing smaller, his human softness returning to him. It’s barely a few seconds, and then Danny’s human again, sitting on the roof with the Signal and Black Bat standing over him.
They blink at each other for a long moment, then Black Bat smiles and pats the top of his head. 
Danny smiles. He knows his cheeks are red, can feel how hot they are himself, and ducks his head, too embarrassed to look at either of them.
“How are you feeling?” Signal asks, crouching down to be eye level with Danny.
He tries to answer, but all that comes out is a hoarse rasp. He winces and brings a hand up to his throat, then shrugs and gives the Signal a thumbs up.
He clears his throat. This time, he manages to whisper, “Thank you.”
Black Bat gives him a cheerful wave, then hops back onto the ledge and jumps off. Signal barely takes his eyes off Danny enough to give her a nod goodbye. He reaches out and brushes Danny’s hair off his forehead some before his fingers trail down the side of his face. 
“I’ll admit, you looked cool as a dragon,” Signal says, “But you’re much cuter like this.”
Danny gives in and hides his face in his hands. The Signal laughs, warm and bright, and kisses his forehead. 
“Come on, let’s make sure your friends can find you.”
“They’re going to be so annoying about this,” Danny mutters.
“It’s how friends show affection.”
“Seriously, though, thank you. I know being tackled by a dragon isn’t what anyone expects. Did I hurt you? Your ribs…”
The Signal shrugs. “Nah. I’m all good. Just a little bruised, but it’ll heal quickly enough. Though, you’re more than welcome to give me a kiss to help me feel better.”
Danny shoves him lightly for the teasing, but he does pull the Signal back for a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth.
It’s only fair, after all.
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crazy-ache · 2 months
Note
Hello😙 Im here to request 17
(Wouldn’t mind if it gets smutty) (tag me if you’re already writing it)
17...to distract
Get it off me. 
The singular thought pounded with every beat of her heart, reverberating under the walls of her skin. Get it off me. Elain repeated the command in her mind over and over again, loud enough that it drowned out his unexpected words from her memory. “This was a mistake,” he had told her before winnowing away into the shadows, as he always did. 
As she raced up the stairs of the river house, away from the humiliation she had endured down below on the Solstice night, all she could feel was Azriel’s damn rose necklace choking her neck. She pumped her legs faster and faster in hopes of outrunning the tears pricking at her eyes and the sob building up in her chest; she needed to get to her room before the emotions escaped her, before anyone else could find her. 
Her chest heaved—a warning of the inevitable. A tidal wave was inside her with nowhere to crash. Elain’s hand clutched the final wooden bannister, her feet shakily meeting the landing. Her room was just to the right of the stairs. All she had to do was make one more turn. 
Except he was there. As if he had been waiting. 
The awareness of his presence was instantaneous. Her momentum halted and with a slow turn of her head to the left, she saw Lucien standing outside his door in the hallway, his red hair nearly molten by the window’s soft moonlight. Of course he was here, as he had spent the night after the Solstice celebrations. Even in the darkness, she could see the gold of his mechanical eye, the sharp line of his jaw. Lucien said nothing as he studied her, which told her the truth she should have known—he knew exactly what had occured with the Shadowsinger just a floor below. 
She took in his unreadable expression that cautiously appraised her. But did he really know? 
That it was his fault she needed to distract herself with the Shadowsinger in the first place? That his very presence demanded to feed the primal beast that laid dormant inside her core, only awoken by the call of her mate.
To be wanted, to be liked, to be kissed, even temporarily...it was just to satiate the desire.
And so his rejection had stung, a sharp slap to the face, still burning as she beheld her mate at the end of the hallway. Her mate. Undoubtedly the reason underscored in Azriel’s declaration of his so-called mistake. And now the reason she was left once again with nothing but that near damning wanting that threatened to eat her alive. 
The thought alone released the waiting tidal wave inside her chest. Elain grasped at the necklace, her other hand attempting to cover the sob wrenched from her throat. And finally, those words echoing inside found her voice. “Get—it—off—me!” She gasped, desperate to find enough air to fill her lungs before another cry shook her body. 
For whatever it was worth, Lucien abided her command. He reached her in three long strides, where he stood behind her, two strong hands taking her by the shoulders. “Breathe,” he whispered, his grip and words steadying her trembles. “Breathe, Elain.” 
There was a resounding beat of a drum. Lucien’s heartbeat. 
With a soft touch, he pushed her thick hair to the side, his warm hands grazing the nape of her neck as he undid the necklace clasp with careful precision. It was barely there, but his hands gave her the urge to confess everything to him—that Azriel’s hands hadn’t come close to the way he felt. That Azriel’s scarred touch was a salve to the burn that the mating bond left her. And Lucien’s touch was the flame itself. 
The cold chain left her skin and she could finally breathe, a sharp gasp filling her chest. She felt Lucien turn her, forcing her feet to move, until she faced him directly. Their faces were only inches apart and it was perhaps the closest they had ever stood. 
She wanted to find the same anger mirrored on his face. She wanted to witness his hurt and confusion and jealousy she had assumed he would harbor against her. But it wasn’t there. Only something softer and kinder laid behind his gaze in comfort.
"It will pass," Lucien whispered, his eyes finding hers. Kinder than she deserved. "You will be alright."
Something about his words unleashed her. Elain could not hold herself up anymore, could not repress what was building up inside her. She threw her arms around his neck in an embrace, the tears sliding from her shut eyes. He tensed momentarily before snaking his arms around her waist, firm but gentle.
Elain could not stop.
Without an ounce of control, she dragged her nose along the column of his neck, inhaling his scent deeply, her fingers digging into his back. She didn't know what she was doing but she needed to fill her lungs with him. The scent alone made her head feel like a drunken haze. The only thing she recognized in that moment was the nervous flutter of his heartbeat in the pulse of his neck.
At her realization of what she had just done, Elain shuddered.
"It's only natural," Lucien blurted out.
”There is nothing natural about this," Elain hissed, stepping angrily back, away from his warm body, her skin crying out at the loss. "There is nothing natural about wanting you when I do not know you. There is nothing natural about dreaming of you constantly,” 
But Lucien did not mirror her. Did not back down. In fact, he stepped closer. "Then look me in the eyes and tell me the truth—does this feel wrong?” He ran his knuckles across her cheek, and where their flesh met sang for mercy.
He was right and she knew. Gods, did she know it.
"I can't do this anymore," Elain breathed, glancing between the necklace and her mate. Lucien's face splintered into a frown.
And she hated that look on his face so much, Elain could do nothing but surge forward, her lips finding his own. She wasn't ready for this but she needed the distraction, needed to feed the starving, longing, yearning burn coiling at her core. She couldn't keep fighting. Not tonight.
When they kissed, it was fire meeting fire. When he touched her, he could have burned the entire city down with his heat. And when Elain's tongue crashed into his, there was only one certainty—this wouldn't be the end.
@bettdraws so sorry there is no smut but I gave u angst
Kiss prompts.
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coffeeghoulie · 2 months
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okay okay listen...#48 w/dewther. yes? but. insert aeon in place of aether. insert dew's habit and....what happens?
Crow, your brain is huge <3. Hope you enjoy!
#48: out of habit
from this prompt list
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Something's wrong.
Dew can feel it growing in the pit of his chest, straining at his ribs with each heartbeat. He hasn't been this nervous ahead of a Ritual in years, long before he transitioned to fire.
Miserere Mei, Deus is playing over the speakers, just barely managing to drown out the growing sound of the crowd, and if Dew were quintessence, he'd be able to taste the excitement. The gossamer sheet between them and the audience ripples softly in the breeze, and something's wrong.
Dew stares down at his hands, growling at them as if that alone would make his spindly fingers stop trembling. It's the first show of this cycle. He should be excited, just like the humans who came to see them spread the Unholy Father's message.
He cannot, for the life of him, figure out what's making him feel like the world's about to end until he looks up from his hands. Aeon's taking his Fantomen from a tech, and Dew is reminded, painfully, that his mate will not be standing across the stage from him when that curtain falls.
Dew stumbles back, grabbing at a crate like he thinks he might go off balance. His other hand covers the crook of his neck, over the many intricate layers of his uniform, where Aether's mark sits, long scarred over. He knows what he's missing, what's wrong, what is making him feel like he's dying.
The first Ritual he and Aether shared together, Aether's very first, Dew had watched the big ghoul shake with nerves, still shy and skittish, only a few months' summoned. He had slipped over towards him, pressed a cool hand to his chest.
Aether had flinched, looking up, violet eyes all Dew could see behind the silver masks. "You'll do fine," Dew had whispered, "I trust Omega and Delta's judgment. You'll do just fine."
He hadn't responded, still trembling under Dew's touch. Dew furrowed his brow, humming softly. Aether swayed towards the noise, entranced.
"Here," Dew said, grabbing the chin of his mask and pulling it up, revealing the pale skin of his glamour. "Pull your mask up, starshine."
Aether wordlessly obeyed, and Dew's gaze softened at the sight of his lip bitten raw, fear written clear as day across his expression.
"Do you want a distraction?" Dew asked, gently reaching up to pet at Aether's cheek. He nodded, and Dew grabbed his Grucifix necklace, pulling gently until Aether leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He had blushed so hard it almost looked purple, but he stopped shaking, and Dew counted that as a win.
Especially when they got off stage, and Aether had given him the biggest grin he'd ever seen on the quintessence ghoul's face.
For six years, for as long as they'd been touring together, Aether had sidled up to Dew, leaning down and grinning. "You're not nervous anymore," Dew scoffed, rolling his eyes, but he'd still stand up on his tiptoes to give Aether his preshow good luck kiss.
Aether's not here now. He's retired to work in the infirmary with Omega, and Dew had thought he'd finished processing that. He's dead wrong.
He glances to stage left, to where his Fantomen hangs around the new kid's neck, and it doesn't quite dwarf them the way Dew thought it would when he had first seen the new quintessence ghoul. But it's still strange and unfamiliar, and the pit in his chest wrenches at him, and Dew knows what he has to do.
There's a call for places. Unlike the rest of the band pack, Dew ignores it, stomping across the stage until he gets to Aeon.
They jolt, posture straightening as he approaches, and Dew can't exactly blame them. He's been cold and a little distant from them, but he shakes his head, reaching out to pull them down gently by the tubing on their helmet.
He can't see their expression, just the curve of their lips under their balaclava, but he leans in and kisses right between the horns of their helmet.
"You'll do fine," he says softly, and darts back to his place just as Imperium starts, leaving Aeon to wonder what just happened.
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corruptimles · 11 months
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#serireiweek2023 day 7: official art/confessions
What if they were co-workers....
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