#prompt 15

[kybercrystals94]

Scraped Knees

By KyberCrystals94

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2023|Day 15|Prompt 15: “I don’t need you to help me, I can handle things myself.” | “I’m fine.”

Rating: G

Words: 739

Summary: Set directly after Season 1 Episode 3 “Replacements”

Omega waits until the ship falls almost entirely silent before she tries to sneak out of her new room. She practices the quiet footfalls she learned from following Hunter on Kamino, creeping down the dim hall to where she remembered Wrecker pointing out the med kit during his grand tour of the Marauder. Her knees burn where the fabric of her leggings rubs on the raw skin from where she fell following the Ordo Moon Dragon into its den.

After glancing up at the cockpit where Hunter has first watch, Omega carefully pulls the kit off the shelf and lifts the lid, setting it aside. She frowns as she stares into the messy array of medical supplies. Great. So much for being quiet, she thinks sourly. All she needs is bandages, and maybe some antibiotic ointment to prevent any infection. She begins her search, quickly finding bandages, but struggling to find the antibiotic. She is debating on how necessary the ointment is when a voice says above her, “What are you doing?”

Omega wishes she could deny the pathetic squeak of alarm that escapes her lungs before she clasps both hands over her mouth, dropping the bandages back into the chaos of the kit. Curses!

“Hunter,” she says, looking up at the Sargent. She isn’t sure if he meant to sneak up on her or not, but by the guilty look on his face, she suspects not. Omega scrambles to her feet. “Sorry. I just—sorry. Uhm…”

Hunter looks down at the med kit. “Are you hurt, kid?” he asks.

Omega’s cheeks burn with embarrassment, though she can’t decide if it’s more from being caught sneaking into the med kit or having to admit she’s hurt. Needing bandages for scraped up knees sounds so childish when compared to the injuries her brothers must’ve sustained over their lives as soldiers. “No, I’m fine. Really.”

Hunter gives her a look, and Omega can’t hold his gaze, averting her eyes to the shadows in the corner.

“Omega,” Hunter says gently but firmly, “in this squad, we do not hide injuries.”

“It’s not an injury,” Omega protests, “I just sorta scraped my knees up when I was crawling around in that cave on Ordo Moon. It’s nothing!”

“Let me be the judge of that,” Hunter says, picking up the med kit and nodding toward the cockpit.

Omega frowns, but follows Hunter, climbing into the copilot’s seat. She rolls up her leggings to expose the torn-up skin on her knees. Honestly, it looks and feels worse than it actually is, she knows; however, the expression on Hunter’s face when he kneels down in front of her to examine the damage for himself makes her eyes burn. He looks so…concerned. Over something so minor. Whenever something like this happened in the lab, Nala Se would tell Omega she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

“‘Mega,” he says softly, “You should have told us.”

Omega blinks, surprised by the nickname. She’s never had a nickname before…unless she counted being called kid…

“I didn’t want to be a bother,” Omega says. She sniffs and roughly rubs a fist over her eyes to hide the tears that come.

Hunter smiles at her, a small thing that is barely noticeable, but she sees it. “It’s never a bother to take care of our own, Omega. You don’t know how many bloodied scrapes I’ve cleaned up and bandaged over the years, for all our brothers, and they’ve done the same for me. And you’re one of us now, right?”

Omega nods. She doesn’t trust her voice to come out without wobbling.

“That means,” Hunter continues, starting to rummage through the med kit, “when you get hurt, no matter how small you think it is, you’ll let one of us know, right?”

Omega nods again.

Hunter works with practiced ease, and with a gentleness Omega hadn’t entirely expected from a soldier. When he is finished, Omega rolls her leggings back into place while Hunter puts away the med kit. When he returns, Omega smiles at him. “Thank you, Hunter.”

“Sure thing, kid,” Hunter says, ruffling her hair. “You’d better get back to bed.”

“Yes, sir!” Omega slides out of the seat. She walks back to her gunner’s mount room feeling lighter.

As she curls back up under her blankets, hugging Lula close, she decides that having brothers is even better than she imagined it would be.

END

Tag List: @isthereanechoinhere96 @followthepurrgil @amorfista

✨Let me know if you’d like to be added to the Tag List✨

#Whumptober 2023 #Day 15 #Prompt 15 #I don’t need you to help me I can handle things handle things #I’m fine #The Bad Batch #Star Wars The Bad Batch #SW TBB #Star Wars #TBB Hunter #TBB Omega #The Bad Batch Season 1 Episode 3 #TBB: S1E3 Replacements #Missing Scene #Sraped Knees #Sibling Fluff #Soft Hunter #Omega needs a hug #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #star wars fanfiction #star wars bad batch fanfiction #fics by kyber

[writing-promptsss]

Prompt #15

The end of the world is coming. The governments are hiding true information from their citizens and feeding them with fake information. Everyone, except you and a handful of other people, is clueless about the incoming danger. What do you do?

#writers #writers on tumblr #writing prompt #writing prompts #writeblr #writing inspiration #writing #writerscommunity #writing things #story prompt #story prompts #story inspo #story ideas #story inspiration #prompt #prompts #creative writing #creative writing prompt #creative writing inspo #creative writing ideas #original prompt #daily prompt #dailyprompt #daily writing prompt #prompt 15

[sweetperversiongirl]

Thank you Rayray @rayrayor for encouraging me to participate in the Drabble Challenge ♥ Thanks to Mandi @bawlbrayker for helping me edit this ♥

Here's my drabble on request number 15: “I’d kill for a coffee...literally.”

Morning crept inexorably into Ian and Mickey's bedroom, along with the sun's insidious rays. They should have gotten new blinds to replace the old ones Ian had taken from Lip and Tami's house in Milwaukee. In fact, Ian wasn't the least bit bothered by the fact that he had to wake up literally at the crack of dawn. He had long since gotten used to the strict regimen. The same could not be said for his husband, who had become particularly restless lately. Besides, Mickey had always hated the beginning of the work week.

Not that Ian thought there was any reason for Mickey's restlessness. But apparently Mickey himself thought otherwise.

The agitated tossing under the covers signaled to Ian that his husband was awake, and not in the best of spirits. It didn't come as a surprise to him either.

"Fucking shit!" Mickey jumped up from the bed so abruptly that the phone Ian was holding fell onto his chest.

Raising an eyebrow, Ian decided he wasn't going to release any comments just yet. Instead, he preferred to focus on enjoying the magnificent sight of his grumpy and completely naked husband. He couldn't hold back a disappointed sigh as Mickey quickly picked up the first boxers he could find from the floor and put them on, thus depriving Ian of an important part of his aesthetic pleasure.

Standing in front of the window, Mickey grabbed the blinds, crumpling them at the edges. He then jerked his arms violently, pulling the blinds off the window, allowing sunlight to fill their bedroom.

"Might as well not have this shit in here," Mickey yelled, throwing the now permanently broken blinds to the floor. Glancing over his shoulder, he threw Ian an angry look. "You should give this shit back…” he kicked the blinds with his foot,"to your fucking brother. I'll be fucking glad to know that asshole has as fucked up a morning start as we do."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with my morning," Ian couldn't resist commenting, for which he was immediately rewarded with two blue knives pointed right between his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I completely forgot that you are Mr. 'Nothing Can Take Away My Zen'. In that case, Master Shifu, could you stop thinking only about your own ass for a second and take care of your fucking neighbor? Isn't that what fucking kung fu teaches?"

"Actually, kung fu teaches you to be more tolerant of your neighbor first and foremost," Ian snapped back. "I'm sure I've been pretty good at it so far, Mickey."

With those words, he threw back the covers and slipped out of bed. His morning boner stared proudly at the ceiling as Ian stalked naked into the bathroom. He didn't like the fact that his husband had managed to get him off balance so quickly, but Mickey's lustful sigh behind Ian's back made up for that brief discomfort.

Ian's peace of mind was fully restored after Mickey caught up with him in the bathroom doorway. Ian received his rightful morning blowjob, which he immediately returned to Mickey with all the enthusiasm of which he was capable.

Brushing his teeth, Mickey mentioned in passing that Kit, their new West Side client, had turned out to be a sneaky bastard who'd tried his best to drive the price of shit down. Ian simply reminded Mickey that credit should be given to Kit, since it was Mickey who had arbitrarily jacked up the price of shit. The incident was over.

Until it turned out that there was no coffee in their apartment.

________________________________________________________

As they approached Starbucks, they found a line a mile long, which in itself was not surprising for a Monday morning. The next coffee shop was much less crowded, much to Ian's sincere joy. All his hopes of getting the morning going again were dashed immediately after the waiter mixed up their order and brought them iced coffee.

"If I liked drinking this shit, I'd have stayed in fucking Mexico!" shouted Mickey desperately as Ian dragged him outside, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

Eventually, after all the morning's misadventures, they found themselves in a tiny, unremarkable coffee shop. By West Side standards, it was just a hole in the wall, mostly ignored by the civilized locals. Ian figured: why not? After all, he and Mickey were still ghetto dudes, right? His temporary excitement quickly faded when he and Mickey walked up to the counter and found there.... the laziest barista in fucking Chicago.

Ian read the man's name on the nametag.

"Good morning, uh... Squidward?" he greeted the barista with the most idiotic name he'd ever seen. After the guy didn't even bother to look up from his phone at him, Ian decided to order anyway. "Double Americano and an Americano with cream, please."

Again, no response. Throwing a glance at his husband, who was leaning his butt on one of the tables, Ian realized Mickey was approaching boiling point. He returned his attention to the barista, already seriously contemplating that a plate of stale oatmeal cookies would look good on this guy's head.

"Hey, Mr. Tentacles," Ian muttered through clenched teeth.

Meanwhile, Mickey had gotten his ass off the table and walked over to the counter, resting his palms on it. A sly smile played on Ian's lips as he reached across the counter and slapped Squidward hard on the shoulder. The man didn't even flinch at this unceremonious invasion of his personal space. Instead, he slowly raised his head and stared at Ian, blinking his sleepy fish eyes stupidly, as if he didn't know there was anyone here but him.

Ian arched an eyebrow and nodded at Mickey's tattooed fingers, which his husband defiantly spread, knuckles pressing against the counter.

"I suspect you can read. Can you see what it says here?"

This time it apparently reached Squidward what an unpleasant situation he had gotten himself into. He swallowed awkwardly, and then, like an idiot, began to read aloud the writing on Mickey's knuckles. This made Ian growl impatiently and Mickey snort smugly.

"Bite him, Hercules!"

"Jesus Christ," Ian rolled his eyes, ignoring his shithead husband's retort. "Are the people in this place even capable of reading between the lines?" The barista blinked dumbly again. "Look," Ian noisily let the air out of his lungs. He points at Mickey’s tattooed fingers and spells it out, "It says, 'I'd kill for a coffee.' And that's not a euphemism, Mr. Tentacles. We understand each other now, right?"

With a hasty nod, Squidward jumped up from his seat.

A few minutes later, Ian and Mickey were enjoying a fairly decent coffee, seated at a table in the deserted coffee shop. They'd even allowed themselves to get a little fucked in the bathroom because Mickey was so damn horny. Ian thought he guessed the reason for that.

"Bye, Sponge fucking Bob. See you later," Mickey called out cheerfully, waving goodbye to Squidward as they left the café.

Once outside, Ian put his arm around his husband's waist and pulled him to him for a brief but deep kiss.

"Do you think he'll be happy to see us here again?"

"I don't care if he'll be glad or not," Mickey snorted. He looked relaxed now, which Ian couldn't help but be pleased about. "We'll definitely come back here again. Dude's a dickhead, sure, but his coffee's pretty damn good."

A wolfish smile blossomed on Ian's lips.

"Are you sure it's not because I turn you on so much when I'm angry?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, Peter fucking Pan," Mickey rolled his eyes. "You know you look like a golden retriever most of the time, right?"

Twisting out of Ian's embrace, Mickey headed toward their parked car. Ian rushed after Mickey, resenting being demoted so abruptly.

"Hey, what happened to fucking Hercules?"

#gallavich fanfic #gallavich fic #drabble challenge #prompt 15

[promptsbytaurie]

prompt #15: imagine your OTP!

A: *glares at Person C*

B: *notices, and whispers* why don't we like them?

#prompt 15 #writing prompts #a and b #imagine your otp

[thedarknesssings]

Prompt 15: House Courcelle

Prompt 15: Portentous - FFXIV Write 2023 Characters: Armand de Courcelle, mentions of the children.

Autumn finally bit its crisp teeth into the late summer mornings, shaking away the lackadaisical existence the long, warmer months instilled in his family. They were far more wont to travel in the summer, spreading his older children apart on fantastic journeys he was sure to hear of when they all crept home in time for the season to begin. Even Osmont was expected.

It was part of his deal with them all. He’d fund their desires so long as they met his one condition. They all had to wed. One of them had to produce an heir to the family name and fortune.

The Viscount Courcelle was a rich man. His family dated back centuries in Ishgard, serving faithfully to See and country, giving their sons and daughters to the betterment of their beloved homeland. Over the years, several wives of heirs —including his own sweet wife, Fury rest her soul— and spares had been from House Dzemael, cementing their bloodlines as good as the High Houses. Their family was one to be proud of and their name an honour to wear. Lord Armand de Courcelle held these things as a badge for his family to wear and in his opinion made his children some of the most desirable options for those yet unwed in Ishgard’s High Society.

Yet, not a single one of his children was wed.

His heir, Dauvaunt, languished in his military career with the Temple Knights, for living by the sword could hardly be deemed preferable to their well-to-do lifestyle. Decorated, handsome, tall, and yet he fled the very moment anyone eyed him with sincerity. His spare, Ivaurault, took up the lance and carved himself an illustrious name among the Knight Dragoons probably in defiance to his elder brother joining the Temple Knights. Yet, he too hadn’t bothered with acquiring a wife. He seemed far more interested in playing the rake. Not that Armand could blame him.

And after these two came several more. All of them introduced to Society in a timely fashion save his youngest daughter. Fortunately, that changed this year. Ara de Courcelle was his final child to be put on the marriage market. Violetta enjoyed her debut last year and now she could help her little sister conquer all the mountains and molehills a debutante might meet. Her brothers could keep the undesirable options well away.

This year things were about to change. He could feel it in his bones just like he could feel the winter winds approaching. Fury help him, but one of them was going to find a spouse.

Invitations stacked high on his desk still begged for his reply. Sorting through who was available when and what function was most suitable for them to attend wasn’t an easy task. Never mind the ones he had to attend himself. Days like this is when Armand missed his wife the most. Adorinna should have been the one to sort through this nonsense, reply for him and their beautiful children. A wistful smile curved his lips and he reached for the top envelope.

#ffxiv write 2023 #prompt 15 #writers on tumblr #ffxiv writers #ishgard #high society #House Courcelle

[cadrenebula]

Prompt #15: Portentous

Nebula watched and wait for the person to walk away, out of ear shot. Sighing with a shake of their head as they gathered the cards to shuffle them back into the deck. Running a hand through their hair as Gwyn sat down beside them.

"Why do you bother to offer these readings when they leave you frustrated at times?" Gwyn asks as she lightly bumps shoulders with Nebula. Dressed in lighter traveling clothes than her usual heavy armor.

"Because it's the people not the readings. They behave as if what the cards say are some prediction of the future. They are but a mere guide to what can be." Carefully tucking the cards back into their pouch for now to be kept safe. Nebula smiles softly at Gwyn. "Not that you have ever let me do a reading for you yet."

"Cause as you said, they're a guide. I make my own fate." Gwyn snorts softly before placing a kiss against Nebula's cheek. "I don't need the cards to guide me. I could say the same about you since you rarely seem to consult them on your own path."

"I have no need at current. I have read them for myself before though. But people often think what the cards offer is set in stone. That it's a future they might not be able to avoid. But the future is always changing. Everyday. Based on even the smallest choices we make. Even when I tell them this, they seem to believe otherwise."

"And yet you still do this occasionally for a bit of coin." Wrapping her arm around their shoulders.

"Because it's good to remain in practice. Besides, you know my main source of income is still my charms. Small charms are easily carried and the good luck ones are always popular. Some people just expect great fortunes instead of small bits of luck here and there. Or things that don't seem lucky but actually are." Nebula leans into Gwyn's embrace and rests their head against her. "I consider myself lucky to have ended up where I am now with you at my side. Others might not see that as luck."

"Oh? Lucky rabbit eh?" Gwyn teases softly as she kisses the top of Nebula's head. "Does that make you my lucky rabbit, witchling?"

"Sometimes. When I'm not being caught unaware by hidden traps that make me stuck as a otter for hours."

#FFxivWrite2023 #FFxivWrite #Prompt 15 #Prompt Portentous #About Nebula #Nebula and Gwyneira

[powerful-niya]

❀December 15th: Fairytale + Gifted & Cursed + Enemies to Lovers❀

Part 1: Wattpad|AO3|Fanfiction.net.

Part 2: Wattpad|AO3|Fanfiction.net.

Part 3: Wattpad|AO3|Fanfiction.net.

Part 4: Wattpad| AO3|Fanfiction.net.

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Summary: Once upon a time... A valiant beast slayer is assigned a duty that profoundly challenges him in ways he has never been challenged before. Mystery follows him around every corner, duplicity mocks him, and treachery waits in the shadows. His mission was clear, but love was never meant to be a part of it.

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Tags: Fairytail • Fairy Tail Style • Fairy Tail Curses • Fairytail Elements • Fantasy • Heros and Villains (Once Upon A Time) • Mythical Beings & Creatures • Monsters • Enchanted Forest • Elemental Magic • Dark Magic • Enemies To Lovers • Love/Hate • Romance • Tragic Romance • Adventure • Action • Storytelling • Story Book • True Love • Soulmates • Fluff • Prophecy • Mythological • Fantastical • Royalty • Battle Fic • Beast Slayer/Monster Hunter • Hunters & Hunting • Heavy Angst • Emotional Hurt/Comfort • Tragedy • Psychologial Drama • Dark Themes • Blood & Violence • Graphic Violence • Bigotry & Prejudice • Hate Speech • Hate Crimes • Implied Of Sexual Assault • Implied Sexual Peer Pressure • Minor Mature Mentions • Looong Oneshot/Fanfic • Four Part Story • Eventual Fanfic •

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

MoodBoards:

🌲Hinata🌲

⚔️Naruto⚔️

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

I Hope You Enjoy!

@nh2022

#naruhina #naruto uzumaki #hinata hyuga #nhmonth2022 #powerful_niya #Fairytale AU #Prompt 15 #Enemies to Lovers #Gifted/Cursed #naruhina month #Fairy tail style #Four Part Story #Eventually will turn into a full fledge story! #The story is looong but sooo good!! #Highly recommend!! 😆😆 #December 15th #🗒️ - niya's drabbles/one-shots ✨

[oswsfandomchallenge]

We're almost there, and for our second to last prompt, we've thought of something special. We've brought you the classics, now we're bringing you a new spin on one:

prompt #15:

❄️ Last Kiss ❄️

#osws fandom challenge #winter sports #prompt 15 #alpine skiing #freestyle skiing #ski cross #cross country skiing #ski jumping #biathlon #nordic combination #curling #snowboarding #hockey #ice skating #fanfiction #fanart #sports rpf

[fanfictasia]

Whumpuary Prompt 15

You’re Safe/Aftermath

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Vision

When I sleep, I dream, flickers of Crosshair and Kamino that I can’t make sense of.

I don’t want to dream. I don’t want to See. It gave me hope we could get him back, but it was wrong. I was wrong. I don’t want to go through that again. I don’t want to think about him, but I can’t stop.

I push myself up, leaning against the wall again. I don’t want to go back to sleep, even if everyone else is.

Omega is tossing a little beside me – nightmare – and I reach out, shaking her shoulder. She gasps faintly, eyes flying open and jolting upright.

“Sh, it’s okay,” I soothe. “You’re safe.”

From how fast she scoots back from me, I can’t help wondering if she’s remembering Bracca. That wouldn’t be the first time, though I’ve never seen her outright react to it before. Not like this. Omega looks around, breathing still a little high. “Okay,” she says, blinking a few times, “We’re here, but I… I keep seeing Kamino. I can’t believe they just destroyed it.”

“That’s what the Empire does. That’s why it needs to die.”

“Do you want to fight it?” It’s a tentative question, but not one I’ve ever seen Omega ask before. I didn’t know she thought about it.

“I want to kill it.”

She bites her lip. “You know that would mean fighting Crosshair, right?”

I huff, turning away, setting back against the wall, one hand falling to the picture, fingers tracing over the cool edges. Everything is cold, especially me. I’m still freezing inside out. I shake my head a little, hearing, but not really accepting. I can’t believe that. “I can’t believe he would do something like that.”

“I know,” Omega whispers, “But he did.”

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #whumpuary #whumpuary 2024 #whumpuary prompt 15 #prompt 15 #prompt fifteen #whumpuary prompt fifteen #the bad batch #omega #omega's clone #original characters #angst #hurt/comfort #family #bad batch #aftermath #you're safe

[lire-casander]

#15 watching their oblivious s/o lovingly

watching their oblivious s/o lovingly original prompt list here

School holidays are TK’s favorite. They mean Jonah is able to join more video calls, and he gets to see his little brother grow up so fast in front of his eyes. But they're scarce, so TK makes the best out of them whenever he can.

This time, Enzo’s managed to fit a few days off himself so they could fly down to Austin once before the wedding. Jonah is going to be the ring bearer — Carlos’ niece Marina will be their flower girl. TK wants his brother to be familiar with the venue and the city, something that's a bit difficult to achieve when Jonah lives in New York City.

So here they are, Enzo and TK sitting on the couch catching up while Jonah plays on the floor with Carlos. They've set up his playground — Carlos insisted they needed one, and TK followed Carlos’ big sister's advice on the best playground for a one-year-old. Enzo is saying something or the other, TK doesn't really know. He's busy watching Carlos interacting with Jonah.

His fiancé is oblivious to how the world might see them, one man and his one-year-old brother-in-law, as Carlos makes plane noises with one of the blue blocks Enzo’s brought for Jonah. TK snickers when Jonah attempts the take the block and instead grabs Carlos’ glasses, making a fuss when Carlos tries to stop him. When Jonah starts pouting, Carlos opts to pick him up in his arms and do what he calls his family happy dance. TK has seen him play this game before with his nephews and nieces — he dances around the room singing a lyricless song that has a soothing effect on their kids.

Mesmerized, he watches as Carlos calms Jonah down, mindless of the rest of the world. TK would love it if Carlos could see what he actually sees — how good he is with kids, what a wonderful father he'd be, regardless of his fears. But TK knows a thing or two about fears, and he won't be the one pushing Carlos to make a decision he's not ready for quite yet.

Even if Carlos never reaches TK on this particular page in the Book of Life, he's in for the long haul. He loves Carlos, even when Carlos doesn't trust or love himself.

Especially then.

"You with me, TK?" Enzo laughs.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," TK splutters. "I was distracted."

"By a young man and a kid? Yeah, I could see the appeal." Enzo reaches out and squeezes his arm. "It'll come, if it really is in the cards for you both. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. Who would have thought I'd be a father way into my fifties?"

TK smiles back at Enzo, sure deep inside that life will treat them fairly from now on — or at least as fair as can be expected — and then turns his attention back to his fiancé and his baby brother, still dancing around the living room.

Jonah’s peals of laughter echo through the room, filling every corner with happiness.

#lire's 40 to the 40s #prompt 15 #prompt 15: watching their oblivious s/o lovingly #tarlos #tk strand/carlos reyes #carlos reyes/tk strand #enzo #jonah #911ls #911 ls #911 lone star

[kay-elle-cee]

Jilytober prompt 15: "I was here first."

Thank you for the prompts, @jilytoberfest!

They were enjoying a quiet night out for the first time in months, their mission schedules finally lining up to allow them a much-needed date night. James had selected a nice restaurant and made reservations, and the two of them had been able to pretend they were nothing more than a young couple in love. No war, no death, no danger.

At least for a while.

Halfway through the main course, she saw him tense up from where he sat across from her and knew someone—likely a Malfoy, a Black, a Selwyn, a Rosier—had walked through the doors, shattering the shimmering illusion they had tried to paint for themselves for just one night.

His eyes followed the path of the newcomer, and Lily fought the urge to turn in her seat and do the same. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

It wasn't until the path crossed directly next to their table that she saw who, exactly, had caught James' attention. Elijah Mulciber and Evelyn Nott glided past them, the woman giving them the slightest hint of a grimace. Lily's eyes locked onto the lingering gaze of Mulciber, his eyes sparkling with menace, and she felt her blood run cold.

James' warm touch pulled her out of the terror, her breathing coming back in unsteady breaths. His eyes swam with concern.

"Do you want to leave?"

She felt her heart break as she looked at him, face so weary and aged beyond his nineteen years. This war was taking everything from them. They deserved this, they deserved something, even if it was just this one night in this one restaurant.

She shook her head, hand finding where his rested on top of the table.

"No. We were here first—I was here first." She squeezed his hand. "You put so much effort in to this, they're not ruining it."

James brought her hand up to his lips and brushed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. Eyes still shimmering with concern, he gave her a weak smile.

"So stubborn, Lily Evans," he said lowly, reverently. He gave her hand another kiss, gripping it tight with both of his. "So stubborn."

Other Jilytober drabbles here.

#kelsey writes #jilytober #jilytober2022 #31 prompts #drabbles #prompt 15

[kybercrystals94]

Focus Up

Read here on Ao3!

Angspril 2024 | Day 15 | Prompt 15: Confrontation

Rated: G | Words: 816 | Summary: A training exercise doesn't end the way the siblings expected. | Character Focus: Omega, Hunter, Echo

Slight content warning...someone gets a bloody nose.

“Focus up, Omega!” Echo calls from the sidelines when Omega’s gaze drifts again to the sparkling white beach and frothing surf. 

Omega turns her head to look at Echo and misses Hunter’s quick sweeping motion that knocks her legs out from under her, sending her sprawling forward across the soft, silty ground. Pushing herself up, Omega spits out a mouthful of grit. “That isn’t fair,” she growls, “Echo distracted me.” 

“You distracted yourself,” Hunter chides gently. “Do you think your enemies will wait for you to be focused before they strike?” 

“No,” Omega huffs, rolling over into a sitting position. “But why do we have to train today? I’ve never been on a beach before, and Wrecker promised he’d show me how to build sandcastles.” 

Hunter smiles at her and holds out a hand. “There’ll be time for fun after training. C’mon, let’s go again.” 

Omega takes his hand and Hunter hauls her up to her feet.

“Get in position,” Hunter says.

Halfheartedly, Omega changes her stance. Hunter adjusts her left elbow and right shoulder, and lightly kicks the heel of her boot to make her bring her foot up. “Good. Now bend your knees a little more, keep your center of gravity low.” 

“Will my enemies wait for me to get into position?” Omega snarks irritably. 

Omega is slightly annoyed when Hunter chooses endless patience instead of reacting. “With enough practice, getting into position will be second nature.” 

Once her brother is satisfied with her posture, he stands in front of her, slipping into his own familiar placement. “Start!” 

Omega is a flurry of frustrated movement, going through the maneuvers she’s been taught while Hunter easily blocks each strike. With a surge of adrenaline, Omega decides to try something different, wanting to catch Hunter off guard. She goes for an uppercut, which Hunter starts to block; however, she aborts the movement just before making contact and dives for his knees. Hunter isn’t ready for the sudden attack, and is nearly toppled; however, he moves to recover his balance. As he disentangles himself from Omega’s grip, his knee comes up and catches her hard in the nose. 

Omega lets out an involuntary yelp of pain, her vision going black for a moment as her body registers the blow. Falling back, she cups her hands over her nose, already leaking blood. She isn’t crying, but tears run down her face and blur the image of Hunter kneeling in front of her. 

“Move your hands, let me see,” his voice is saying over the roaring in her ears. She gives a tiny shake of her head, but Hunter gets more insistent. “I need to check if it’s broken, Omega.”

 Gingerly, Omega lowers her hands, being careful not to touch them against her clothes. Not that it matters with blood dribbling down her chin and neck. 

Hunter inspects the damage, gently prodding the cartilage. “Doesn’t seem to be broken. That’s good. Here, lean forward a bit and pinch here.” He guides one of her hands up to do as he says. “Echo’s getting a cold pack.”

Omega groans, closing her eyes as tears continue to escape without her permission. “I’m not crying,” she tells him, her voice sounding funny with her nose plugged. 

“I know you’re not,” Hunter soothes, patting her shoulder. 

“That’s one way to get out of training for the day,” Echo’s voice says beside her. 

Something soft and chilled presses lightly against the bridge of her nose. Omega hisses in surprise. “I didn’t do this on purpose!” she protests weakly. 

“We know, kid,” Hunter says. “And good job. You almost got me there.”

Echo chuckles. “Getting an injury during training is like a right of passage.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, Omega,” Hunter mumbles. 

Omega grins behind her hands, peeking one eye open to look at Hunter. “But I almost knocked you down? Really?” 

“You should’ve seen his face,” Echo says. “If I had taken a holo, we would’ve gotten a good laugh out of that for years to come. I guess we’ll just have to settle for describing it in great detail to Wrecker and Tech later.” 

Hunter frowns over Omega’s shoulder where Echo is situated. Omega giggles, the pain and tears of her injury nearly forgotten. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Omega adjusts Eva’s left elbow and right shoulder. She nudges Eva’s heel to prompt her to shift forward. “There,” Omega whispers. “Keep your knees bent. Good.” 

“This will help us to fight?” Eva whispers. 

Omega can’t train these children as her brothers trained her. She can’t teach them to throw a punch, or hold a blaster, or how to avoid detection. However, she can give them a foundation, as small as it might be. She can teach them to slip into position until it’s second nature, until her brothers find them and rescue them. 

Smiling grimly, Omega puts a reassuring hand on little Eva’s shoulder. “It’s a start.”

END

@the-little-moment and @just-here-with-my-thoughts 😱 This is the halfway mark??? YAY! Go team!! 15 more angsty prompts to go 😇

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[tricksterfiction]

Prompt #15 Portentous

Handmade Heaven - MARINA

It was mid afternoon, Sen stood hesitating on the door way to her mentor's home. Her hand hovered over the handle, she knew she didn't have to knock to enter. She wore a comfortable loose sleeved green shirt, with a grey skirt, her redwood cane strapped to her back.

Sen had been practically hiding away at Gaelicat's Rest, the quiet inn halls were often hers alone to relax in. She felt safe from outside forces.

Now she had been dreading this talk for what felt like ages now, she had made the decision, clutched in her other hand was her military commendations letter - it was in of itself portentous of her future, what awaited her. Success in misery.

But... she made a promise to her... girlfriends...?

Gods, no - she shook her head, kissing and scheming with Giovanna over the mysteries of Avielun didn't count. Then offering herself to being used as a scratching post by said mystery didn't count either.

Was this really the right choice? Was quitting her career actually going to be worth it? Or would she be signing herself up for more confusion, forcing herself into an even more vulnerable position?

Her hand lowered, then leaned her forehead against the grains of wood.

Resolve had left her, she turned on her heel meaning to retreat to recoup her nerve elsewhere. The door opened as she was half way down the path and was called by Madame Dubois, "I was waiting for you to come in and now you are going to leave?"

Shit...! Sen thought scrunching up her shoulders, looking very much like she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Heyyyy." She drew out, "I was uh- going to go... uh-" She looked over the the moogle box, "Fetch your mail." Opening the box she felt around to find it completely empty, then slowly closed it.

The wizened Elezen frowned in a perfectly disappointed way, "You clearly have something to talk to me about, mayhaps why you have been avoiding me outright?"

"I-I haven't been avoiding you Madame, it was for your safety-"

Madame Dubois threw her eyebrow up, then whistling sharply a block of earth shot up under Sen to forcibly scoot her back toward the house followed by a very insistent breeze blowing her further.

Sen was in the house now, removing her boots, surrendering to her fate.

Madame Dubois was ahead of her, leading the raen out to the beautifully kept garden. Their beautifully kept garden, her hand passing over some poppies. They sat down at stone table and chairs, birds were enjoy the bird bath chirping to the chorus of buzzing bees working diligently. There was a pitcher of water set aside, Sen automatically poured them both a glass.

"Madame, I-" She began, then slide the letter across the table.

"Is this...?" She asked, knowingly. "Your last commendations?"

Sen nodded, she wasn't smiling with pride nor elation.

Madame Dubois reigned in her brief excitement at the absence of Sen's.

Then Sen without another second thought she spilled her guts.

To Madame Dubois' credit she remained silent while she listened to her apprentice. Sen clutched at her heart, her voice dipped in volume, it shook at times as the truth came spilling out. The years of discontent, her career did not matter, nor did the plans for real change within Gridania matter. Ambition had all but left her a husk of indecision, doubt. Quietly, the quietest she had been yet to imply that included abandoning the art of conjury in favour of something better.

The writing had been on the walls. It wasn't simply a funk, no amount of time would quiet this exceptionally loud knock at her door for change. Ultimately, she expressed how she saw it all as bars to her cage, she tapped the commendation letter.

The silence stretched between them. Sen tentatively watched her mentor for her reaction interrupting it with a, "I'm sorry I know you must be feeling-"

"Betrayed to the highest order?" Madame Dubois supplemented venomously.

Sen sucked back in her words, bracing herself now.

The elezen stood not only as symbol but a tower over tradition. Sen quailed under her shadow, not moving.

"You-" Rage was boiling, years of frustration, hopes - dreams all turning to ash. Sen saw her jaw work and grinding away enamel. "Would... Throw it all away?"

Sen swallowed hard, then she pinched her shoulders back - her resolve coming back to her, "Yes."

All seven hells broke at that, unlike ever before did Sen experience real rage from her mentor. The short snaps, the huffy frustrations, the yelling over her tantrums, it all paled in comparison to what Madame Dubois unleashed now.

Once she was screamed at to get out of her sight, Sen didn't run to the elezen's surprise. Sen had reached the door, then turned to look her in the eye, tears we were welling over - strong as she was to stand her ground she wasn't immune to feeling like shit while it happened, "I pray Althyk keep you, you'll need his strength to carry you through these changes as much as I have."

Madame Dubois was suddenly speechless.

Sen left, quietly shutting the door behind her.

#ffxivwrite2023 #ffxivwrite #writing prompt #ffxiv #prompt 15 #Portentous #handmade heaven #MARINA

[unbloomingmoonflower]

FFXIVWrite2023 Prompt 15: Portentous

The gradient of silver in her left eye was an ominous omen.

Ever since Shuri returned from the First, she noticed the flecks of silver that began to dot the sapphire hue of her left eye. She was born with differing eye colors, so she wasn't perturbed from the start. Yet the silver was beginning to become more copious, more obvious, and Shuri was beginning to question everything once more.

It began when Elidibus had taken over the body of her beloved Ardbert, one that angered both her and Estinien. Shuri was adamant to ensure Ardbert's body was laid to proper rest and that Elidibus was doing a grievous insult by inhabiting his body.

However, when they conversed, Elidibus was demonstrating an almost...fatherly act with her, as if he were her parent. It irritated Shuri, but something within her stirred. What was it that responding to the Emissary...

...with pure, unbridled hate?

The answer came from the lips of Elidibus himself, a portentous word as he lost the battle to her: "Lilith. Beware of Lilith."

Ever since then, her eye was slowly changing. As if the name had awoken something within Shuri, something that wanted to be free of its shackles.

Had Elidibus meant Shuri's unsundered self? The one that Emet-Selch spoke of? The one that he seemed to consider highly? Certainly not the same, if Elidibus' warning held true.

But what could a Xaela such as she do with little information and those who held it having been long gone?

#moonie writes #ffxivwrite2023 #prompt 15

[sterek-and-stuff-events]

Mead Moons prompt: Midsummer Night's Dream

Is Stiles a stage actor whose latest performance as Puck is reviewed by theater critic Derek? Or is he an actual fey being who gets a kick out of reading the fantasy series Derek writes that’s supposedly based on his people?

Do a jealous Titania and Oberon try to keep happy couple Derek and Stiles apart in the Preserve? Or does a trickster tired of their UST and obliviousness engage in all sorts of mischief until they finally confess their feelings? 

Do they have their first kiss while randomly watching the 1999 movie version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream? Or is that the theme of the college party where they hook up and end up becoming more than a one-night stand?

Make your vision a reality!

Accepting new and unpublished fic, art, and playlists until July 31st. See here for more info.

#sterek #sterek events #teen wolf events #sterek & stuff events #mead moons #mead moons midsummer night's dream #prompt 15 #random daily prompt

[chocoblep]

#15: Curry

“You have to try the Hamsa curry,” Asana had said, leading him into a large, airy eatery named Mehryde’s Meyhane. She and Rhyle had just arrived in Radz-at-Han, and as they’d walked through the city they’d discussed what they would be doing–speaking with the alchemists and researchers here and at an outlying village called the Great Work. It was a possible lead as to the viability of getting him home where he belonged, though he was doubtful that this place would yield results. After all, it was better to be pleasantly surprised than disappointed on most occasions.

The golden-scaled Raen sat with him at one of the smaller tables and, when the server came around, ordered two servings of the curry he’d agreed to try. They’d chatted, him asking her questions about this very colorful place, and her asking some of her own about his home. They were not particularly well-acquainted, but he felt somewhat safe with her. The same couldn’t be said for the rest of this establishment, and occasionally the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as someone passed too close to where they sat. Every time, his fingers itched toward his quarterstaff, which sat leaning against the table.

When the food came, he thanked the server, who shot him a dubious look that felt almost ominous. He turned his baffled expression on the plate in front of him, wondering what this meal had in store for him, and then on Asana, who had already dug in and was contentedly eating. She flushed happily, gesturing to his plate. 

“Try it!” she urged, food tucked in her cheek that she didn’t chew until after she’d spoken.

He picked up his spoon, flaring his nostrils to catch its scent. It was fragrant, but the scents he caught were foreign to him. Appetizing, but foreign. There was a sense of warmth radiating from the dish; so much so that when he lifted the first spoonful to his mouth, he blew on it before he took that first bite.

Rhyle nearly choked, spitting the bite back onto the spoon. His entire mouth burned. When he swallowed his own saliva his throat burned, and the air that entered his lips when he opened them to speak made everything even worse. Immediately he reached for his water, chugging a quarter of the glass, but even that didn’t relieve much.

“You okay?” Asana asked, blinking over at him with an innocent expression on her face as she chewed.

“It burns,” he managed, huffing out a hot breath in an attempt to ventilate his mouth. “Is it poisoned!?”

“No, it’s got some spice in it, but not poison.”

“Spice?” Rhyle questioned, and then Asana laughed.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she said, putting her spoon down, “You’ve never had spicy food before, have you?” She looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh.

Rhyle was not amused, and stared at her with a deadpan look on his face to prove it.

“Goodness, I thought you were strong and could handle it,” she commented, and Rhyle’s eyes narrowed.

He was strong. He could handle the burning food. He’d just been surprised by it, that was all. Determined, he picked up his spoon again and took another bite. That burning sensation was back, but this time he chewed and swallowed.

The rest of the meal passed with Asana enjoying her food immensely and Rhyle eating mechanically, determined to defeat the burning curry. Asana explained a bit of the city to him and he listened, even if his eyes were a little mistier than normal and sweat beaded on his brow. The server, who caught a glimpse of him, swept in with a glass of milk and murmured, “on the house,” before leaving again, and Rhyle just stared at it.

“Milk helps,” Asana said, gesturing to the glass. He grabbed it, took an experimental drink, and arched his brows in surprise.

“Oh.”

“Better?”

“Yes.” Now he could identify a pleasant aftertaste on his tongue, much more unusual than anything he’d tasted, but not in a bad way. “And I have defeated the food.”

Asana did laugh at that. “Well, from where I was sitting, it looked like the food nearly defeated you in the process! I will tell them to go easy on the spices next time.”

Rhyle said nothing. To thank her for her insight would be to concede defeat, but to protest would be to invite it. No, he had to do this on his own and show that he was strong. When they left Mehryde’s Meyhane behind, Rhyle was filled with a new determination.

I will defeat all of the burning foods. Asana will know my strength.

#FFxivWrite2023 #FFxivWrite #Story #Rhyle Moonreed #Prompt 15 #Portentous