#he's not my cup of tea but i am just tired of fics not getting roblogs and just flopping

[puffcap-factory]

Late Night Tea-Time (Wriothesley x reader)

Wriothesley x fem!reader; fluff, established relationship, a teeny-weeny hint of smut. Just the hint, not the real smut.

Basically, it’s you staying up late at night working (and waiting for him) only to see him arriving with another new package of tea collections.

Notes:

Finally! My first genshin fic featuring the spicy Duke of Meropide himself, Wriothesley! It’s kinda short but I’d like to get this one out first as I was thinking of making a short series for him too (no promises, though, I’ll see how it goes hehe)

As always, please enjoy! :D

•~•~•~•

Piles of papers were spread on Wriothesley’s office desk as you carefully analyzed the data regarding the fortress’ logistics, seated on Wriothesley’s chair. The sounds of the piano from the record player filled the air as you took another sip of your tea, hoping it would help you regain the focus that had been faltering.

Suddenly, the creak of the door opening in the room below caught your attention. Wriothesley entered and ascended the stairs, carrying a new box of tea collections in his hands.

“You’re still working on the files? It’s already 11 pm,” he asked, finding you seated on his office chair. 

“Says someone who just returned from a business meeting. And with a fresh stash of tea,” you replied, a playful glint in your eye as you glanced at the box he carried.

It seemed everyone was beginning to catch on to the Duke’s fondness for tea, as most of the gifts he received always seemed to revolve around tea drinking, much to your amusement.

He chuckled softly at your response as he placed the newest tea set onto the tea cabinet, arranging it carefully.

“You won’t be sleeping if you keep drinking your tea, though.”

“It’s Rooibos, don’t worry,” you reassured him, watching as he made his way towards you.

“It’s late, y/n, I want you to rest,” he said softly, standing beside the chair. With a gentle pat on your shoulders, he lowered himself to your seat, planting a tender kiss on your temple. 

“Come now,” he urged gently, carefully removing the documents from your hand and placing them on the table. He offered you his hand, allowing you to stand up from his seat, and led you over to the nearby sofa. You gladly followed him.

He brought your tea cup over and placed it on the low table in front of you before returning to the tea counter. There, he found the pot of tea, still hot from the heater below, the one that you had been drinking from.

“I’ve made that for us. Feel free to pour yourself,” you offered from your seat.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he replied with a warm smile. He poured his own cup of tea before making his way to sit next to you.

After taking a sip of the tea, seemingly content with the brewing, he opened his arm, inviting you to come closer. You understood his gesture and happily nestled into his embrace, feeling his warmth as his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close.

“I’m not quite sleepy yet,” you admitted softly, looking up at him. He chuckled softly, his eyes filled with fondness towards you.

“Why’s that? You’ve been working on the data since this morning as far as I can remember.”

“I have, but all I’ve done today is sit behind the desk and work on the papers,” you explained.

“And you’re not tired from that?”

“I am– well, my mind is. And throughout the day, you were away, too.”

“So, you’re saying you’re just missing me so much that you can’t sleep?” he teased with a playful chuckle.

“Hey, you’ve been helping me spar in these past few weeks. Those physical activities actually helped me sleep, you know,” you countered with a pout.

“Physical activities, huh?” His eyes danced mischievously, a playful grin appearing on his lips.

“But… I don’t think I have the energy to spar right now. My mind is not in the capacity to devise a strategy to defeat you,” you said lazily, snuggling up closer to him. 

“You were actually thinking to spar right here, right now, at my office,” he gently laughed, his hand running soothingly through your hair.

“Well, why not? It’s not like we’re gonna blow this whole place up,” you replied with a playful grin, glancing over at your almost empty tea cup. You stood up and made way to the tea counter to take the tea pot. Wriothesley watched you with amusement from his seat, his eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and... something else.

Switching off the tea pot’s heater, you prepared to return to the sofa with the pot when the new tea set in the nearby cabinet caught your eye. Curiously, you opened the cabinet and examined it.

“You know,” you mused, holding the box in your hand, “I find it rather amusing that somehow, tea and you are never far from each other.”

He watched you with an amused smile, a spark of curiosity in his eyes as he leaned forwards. “And what do you mean by that?” 

“I feel like the scent of tea itself is starting to rub off on your scent. Imagine people catching a whiff of tea and turning to find the Duke of Meropide himself,” you continued, a small laugh escaping you at the image. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you started to taste like one.”

There was a sudden pause in the moment before he answered. “Taste like one… huh?” he stated, his tone lowering as he stood up from the sofa and made his way to you. You suddenly felt his arm, slowly wrapping you from behind, one arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close, while the other rested gently on your shoulder. The atmosphere had shifted, a subtle tension building as you realized the implication of your words. 

“Perhaps, you should find out for yourself,” he whispered in your ear, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. His warm breath trickled against your ear and down to your neck as he nuzzled softly, hinting at the desire simmering beneath the surface. 

Feeling the heat of his body against yours, you set down the box of tea, fully aware of his unspoken invitation. You leaned back into his embrace, a playful spark igniting within you as you decided to tease him a bit further.

“And how would you suggest I do that?” you turned your head, meeting his gaze with a mischievous smirk, your lips mere inches from his.

For a moment, his eyes held yours, tender yet filled with hunger that started to cloud his gaze. “Well, considering your lack of physical activities today, I have a perfect idea to satisfy your curiosity as well as help you sleep.”

You caught the glint of lust in his eyes and understood exactly what was coming.

“Oh? Then what are you waiting for?”

With a smirk, he effortlessly scooped you up into a bridal carry, his arms strong and sure beneath you. Without a word, he carried you towards his bedroom, the tension between you still palpable. The aroma of tea lingered in the air as you two left the office, leaving the tea to grow cold.

・

・

That night, you slept more soundly than you had in weeks, wrapped in the warmth of his love, the taste of tea still lingering on your lips.

#wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x y/n #genshin impact #genshin x reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x you #genshin #genshin fanfic #wriothesley x reader fluff #wriothesely x reader

[orobaxis]

i love your ominis fic! it’s so well written. could i request him and #10 from the prompt list?

(so for once in my life) let me get what i want

ominis gaunt x reader (hogwarts legacy)

ominis tells you his plans for the future and adopts a new name

prompt: "please. please just listen to me."

word count: 2253

warnings: hogwarts legacy spoilers! some violence; gaunt family pureblood purity nonsense; seventh-year ominis and gang (sebastian redemption arc); timeskip & a surprise cameo/twist? :O ominis is a very powerful wizard because of his heritage, and he's even more powerful than his family because of his kind heart; occamies can speak parseltongue (source: trust me bro)

when the impossible happened, when it turned out that you also reciprocated his feelings, ominis' world changed.

he always tells you, "we took the long way round, but we're here now." and every time, you would reach for his hand and squeeze. he can almost sense your smile every time.

ominis had been thinking about it. you were it for him, and he hopes you feel the same way. he was tired.

of hiding you.

so ominis made up his mind.

once you both graduate from hogwarts, he would not return to his family. the gaunts aren't his family--not anymore. it was his friends, and you.

-

"what are you doing outside, sulking here?"

he turns to the sound of your voice and the door opening, and you sit beside him. slowly, you reach for his hand and guide a steaming cup of tea. he mutters a 'thank you' and takes a sip.

you tell him that feldcroft looks nice at this time of the year, so not unlike the time it was ravaged by poachers and ranrok's loyalists. there is laughter in the air, children running around and playing in the snow. carolers singing every night by a bonfire. you always go to the carolers and hand out hot cocoa.

ominis and sebastian would usually sit there, outside the sallow house, listening as you and anne, now good as new, play with the kids, picking snowball fights with the enchanted snowman. you two make them help set up a giant christmas tree for the hamlet. he would fret whenever you climb up the ladder to place ornaments, insisting that using your wand "isn't as accurate". that entire day, while you and anne were busy decorating the tree, ominis would be standing guard by the ladder, making sure that not even the wind can shake it.

he likes it here. it's quiet, and while he enjoys holidays in the castle, being with his family here in feldcroft feels better.

"the kids are scaring the scarecrow again," he tells you with a smile, and you both turn in the direction of the children and the squawking of the poor scarecrow.

anne bursts out the door, smiling when she sees you two. "there you are!" she exclaims. a folded woolen blanket is hanging on her arms, "i knew ominis would be here sulking--"

"i am not sulking--"

"so i got you a blanket to keep you warm. i know y/n wouldn't leave you out here in the cold."

you gratefully take the blanket from her, thanking her before splaying it on yourself and ominis. "have you finished packing?"

"me?" anne points at herself, "of course not! sebastian and i don't pack until you start nagging for us to leave."

"because we need to return to hogwarts by tonight," you remind her.

anne rolls her eyes, waving you off, "we can pack everything quickly, don't worry. you and ominis enjoy the sun while it lasts."

you hum, and watch her enter the house again. turning to ominis, you watch him sip his tea quietly, "you ready?"

"hmm?" he asks behind the rim of the teacup.

"our final term," you sigh, "and then we're done with school."

ominis starts thinking about it again.

"i have to tell you something."

you don't say anything, but wait until he starts talking.

"i've decided...i've decided not to return to my family after graduation."

shocked, you open your mouth to say something, anything. but you know that he has made up his mind about this. "but, they'll start looking for you."

"i know." ominis is quiet for a bit, hands warming up around his cup, as he tries to collect his thoughts. some time ago, he knew that he eventually would have to go into hiding once he decided to leave the family. he just...well, he just needed to tell you about it. "we'll have to lay low for a while."

"we?" you aren't sure if you heard him right. did 'we' mean you and him? you, him, and the twins?

"my family will be looking for us. and if you're with me, i can protect you better."

so that's what he had been sulking about, you think to yourself. ever since you arrived to feldcroft to spend the holidays with the twins, you would always find ominis deep in thought. is this what he was thinking about?

it feels like a death sentence, ominis thinks. you deserve better than going into hiding so soon after graduating. you should be going out there, exploring the world, not being afraid that a family of dark wizards would find you. but he knows his family will not let him go, not with you. and if something happened to you, well, he would never forgive himself.

"i'm sorry," he blurts out. he is frustrated about this, and he knows you must be too. he is sure that you're already processing the fact that you'll be losing months, years of your life trying to hide from his family. he wouldn't blame you if you start despising him now. he would too. "i didn't mean for this to happen."

"wait...ominis," you gently take the cup from his hands to settle it on the ground, "it's alright."

ominis shakes his head, now becoming upset, "no, you don't understand...i don't understand. why aren't you mad at me? you should be!

because of who i am...the darkness in my family is never going to go away, and it will infect you...i'm sorry." ominis hears the crack in his voice and the tears started to flow.

immediately, you kneel into the dirt, cupping his face, "hey, ominis...please. please, just listen to me." you brush your thumbs against his cheeks, wiping his tears, tracing the beauty marks that you love.

"i'll be fine as long as i'm with you," you whisper to him. "i don't care if we have to hide, as long as i have you...everything will be alright."

he sniffs, raising his hands to cup yours resting on his cheeks. he turns and brushes his lips on your palm, "i love you," he tells you, "i would do anything for you, and i will keep you safe, i promise."

"i know, love," you tell him, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks, not from anguish, but from joy. of course you would follow him anywhere. "i love you too, and i will also keep you safe."

ominis says nothing, but nods before leaning forward, resting his head against yours.

let me keep her, please. he thinks. for once in my life, let me get what i want. lord knows it would be the first time.

-

he should have known that these rogue poachers were also looking for him. they accidentally came across the group, as you four were flying back to the castle. they intercepted you, and you had to land somewhere.

"i don't know if you 'eard," a poacher yells as he and his colleagues start to descend to your location, "but the gaunt family is looking to pay a hefty sum if we could get their son and his friends back to them!"

"all the galleons we could ever want!" exclaimed another, "we'll never have to poach for animals in this blasted forest again."

"ominis," you whisper, reaching frantically for him as he takes a step forward, wand out. sebastian stands beside him. you see anne pull her wand out and you do so anxiously, staring at the poachers and trying to keep yourself calm.

it is quiet for a bit, and then the curses and hexes start flying. incantations hurriedly leaving everyone's lips as you tried your best to see where the enemies are in the thick of the night. you worry for your friends, jumping by anne's side, pulling on her jumper as you conjure a shield for you both. as ominis and sebastian try to hold off a horde of poachers in front of you, you don't notice one disillusioned themselves until there was the tip of a wand pressing against your neck and a ragged, "STOP!" is shouted behind you, almost deafening your ear.

ominis turns to the side at the sound, wand still raised and his brows furrowed when he realizes that one slipped past him.

"let go of her."

"we don't want trouble with you, i know you gaunts are a powerful lot," the poacher who has wrapped his arm around your neck tightens it a little. "i just want missy here, and you to come with us back to mummy and daddy."

he raises his wand, ready to strike the man who has you captive.

"ominis..." you start, before the tip of the wand dig deeper into your neck and you shut yourself up with a whimper. ominis cringes at the sound.

"please--" ominis bares his teeth as he lowers his wand

"drop your wand and walk towards me."

"please just listen to me," ominis implores, but the man didn't want to listen to him.

"any sudden movements and she's gone," he pulls on your hair, "your parents want you alive, but didn't say that for her."

now seething in anger, ominis nods before dropping his wand. this appeases the poacher, who tells him to start walking towards him. then, he hears voices.

voices he haven't heard in some time. are you alright? do you need help?

masking it as a pained hiss, ominis answers, yes, get rid of the poacher. he threatens to hurt the beasts in this forest.

i am not from this forest. nor from this land. these poachers took me.

you're close now, ominis can hear your muffled whimpers. help me with the poacher, and we will help you return home.

in a flash, you are released from the poacher's grip and ominis takes a few strides before reaching you. he holds you close as you gasp at the sight before you: a large, winged serpentine beast grabs the poacher by the shoulders and they disappear.

"what--"

"that was an occamy!" anne shouts, running to your side to embrace you and ominis, "thank goodness you're alright!" sebastian runs to you all, sighing in relief when he sees no one is hurt.

you turn to ominis, still in shock. "you saved me..."

"i promised i would," he tells you.

"but..." you turn back to the sky, where you see the occamy flying closer and closer. ominis says nothing, but waves his wand to materialize his suitcase and open it. the occamy flies into it and it shuts. "the occamy..."

"professor howin or ellie peck will make sure that she gets back to her home."

you nod at him, a smile slowly forming on your face before you rush in and plant a small kiss on his cheek. flushing, you start to walk back to where you dropped your broom, ignoring the teasing grin on anne's face.

"well, that was--"

"if you say one more thing sebastian, i will have the occamy choke you."

-

years later, anne and sebastian sallow find themselves in front of a tiny cottage by the sea. it has become tradition to spend the holidays here.

here to deliver the news, sebastian, now an auror, is excited to let them know. the gaunts have stopped looking for them.

you greet them at the door, throwing your arms around anne is joy. "happy christmas!" you tell her, "i'm so glad you made it here safely!"

"the only danger we encountered on the way here were the drunkards outside of feldcroft!" anne exclaims with a laugh, moving to take off her coat and hang it as you hug sebastian.

"any news?" you whisper against his ear.

sebastian pulls away from you with a grin, "yes. where is he?"

"in the studio," you nod to the direction of the room, "now off with your coat and let's move to the studio."

-

he has learned to enjoy it. at first, he huffed when you told him you bought him the wheel, but eventually, he realized how much he loved it. it was calming, and it certainly helped that you also appreciate the finished products he would gift you.

when sebastian tells him that the gaunts finally stopped searching, ominis couldn't really say he's relieved. he was relieved years ago, when he stopped feeling the dark shadow engulfing his being. despite that, he enjoys knowing that they didn't have to hide anymore.

he feels his wife's comforting hand on his shoulder, and he teasingly reaches for it with his own.

"ah, ominis, you're getting me dirty!" you complain, but he only laughs. "i have to go check on the food, and then we can all have dinner."

"how can you even move around with your condition?" sebastian asks, and you huff, rolling your eyes at him before cradling the swollen bump in front of you. "i don't think my child is as big-headed as you seb, that's why i'm still able to move around."

anne and ominis laugh at that. "i'll help," ominis announces, as he gets up from his potter wheel and makes his way towards the kitchen (where you proudly display the many potteries your husband made you).

the twins follow shortly, chortling at how domesticated you both look, especially after adopting a new name. this new name ominis is proud of, because not like the one he is born with, becoming a "potter" is his choice, and with you, he's all the better for it.

-

i was listening to please please please let me get what i want (idk if thats obvious)

i hope you all like this one ;A;

i popped out so many ominis fics today my thesis is jealous aaaaaaaa

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt imagine #hogwarts #hogwarts imagine #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy imagine #wizarding world #sebastian sallow #anne sallow #harry potter #queue

[andromeda-nova-writing]

My Favorite Actor Is…

Fem!Reader

Summary: Infatuation over a film star. It’s a very common thing to have happen. There’s not much to be done over it besides talking about said infatuation over that actor. And if there is jealousy to be had at least handle it as healthy as possible.

Words: 975

AN: I wrote almost all of this on my phone as I was dealing with the holidays when it was written. Just when I thought I would have time to myself to edit the fic and make sure things made sense, I got a new puppy. So it was either edit the fic and be unsure if things made sense or get help. Thanks @milkstore. You are the best. Puppies are tiring but very cute.

“Ayaka had me and Thoma go with her to see a film earlier today,” Y/N explained as she poured herself and Ayato a cup of tea. The two of them were still warming up after coming back to the estate from Inazuma City. The winter air had been so chilly with flurries landing on them but not sticking to the ground.

“Did the three of you enjoy yourselves?” He took a towel trying to dry off his hair. Even though it was flurries, being out there long enough meant that two of them were a little soaked. They had hurried in quickly changing into something dry leaving just hair affected by the snow.

“Yes. It was quite exciting. But I did have one gripe with it.” Ayato could hear the disappointment in her voice changing so fast from the happy one she had started the conversation with.

“What would that be?” He left the towel wrapped around his shoulders to avoid his hair dripping. Ayato grabbed the teacup and took a sip embracing the warmth it brought him.

“There was a new actor in the film. He had the most gorgeous eyes but only had a few lines of dialog.” Y/N rolled her eyes before she frowned. “It was an absolute waste of perfect talent. And to make matters worse, that's the only film he's in.”

Ayato remained silent before letting out a single word in judgment, “Oh.” Now he wasn't one to let jealousy affect him. That was a silly emotion filled with insecurities that he didn't have. But to say he wasn't the slightest bit affected by her words was a lie. One that he would tell because who was he to dump feelings he should process on his own onto his lover.

Any understanding of his emotions was ignored. “Ayaka had told me he even turned down a role that would have given him more screen time. It’s such a crime really. What I would give to see him on screen for those two hours rather than just two minutes.” He could practically see the hearts in her eyes. 

Ayato didn’t think there would come a day where he’d be annoyed even if it was just slightly by the look she had in her eyes. There wasn’t anything to feel threatened by though. If she had to stand by his side while someone tried to openly flirt with him while he and Y/N were holding hands, he could at the least let her fantasize about someone she would never meet.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky and he will get cast in another movie.” He did his best to remain engaged in the conversation. When he looked down at his cup filled with the most gorgeous green tea he hated the reflection that looked back. 

“I wish. Sadly he’s too busy with other projects to even think about acting.” Ayato enjoyed the small victory he had gained even though Y/N was upset at the fact she was telling him. Who knew her love of the arts would betray him?

“Well just be glad that he was able to appear in this film.” He comforted her. Maybe the lack of rest was getting to him if such a disgusting emotion as jealousy was trying to make an appearance.

“I am. I do wish I could at least meet the actor and tell him how well his performance was. Thoma said you’d be able to make that happen.” Y/N had placed an empty teacup on the table. He hadn’t even noticed that she was drinking it this entire time.

All Ayato knew was Thoma who he thought was filled with so much loyalty had betrayed him unknowingly earlier. Now he had to compete for his wife’s attention with some mystery actor that he would do his best to never let her meet. “If they are busy it might be easier to get an autograph.” He hoped that Ayaka would be okay with him using her as a way to talk through these emotions later.

“Really? But even Ayaka agreed that he would find the time to talk.” Y/N spoke with a frown that hid the smirk she really had. Not that Ayato could notice at the moment.

How do you ground your adult younger sister and man who grew up almost like a second sibling to him? “That’s not guaranteed dear. It’s a bit of wishful thinking. Ayaka and Thoma don’t even know the man. Who even is this actor anyway?” His composure was finally beginning to break. He wasn’t proud of it.

Y/N laughed. “I didn’t even tell you the movie we saw. I’m sorry. The movie was The Two Musketeers.” It wasn’t often that Ayato felt embarrassed. “The actor was a man named Kamisato Ayato. You sure I won’t be able to meet him?”

It was at moments like this that he was reminded why he and Y/N had wed. It was also moments like this that reminded him one of the reasons they wed was that they both enjoyed a bit of mischief and teasing each other now and then. It was something that lately he had been catching her off guard with. And here he was getting a taste of his own medicine at the moment.

“Y/N.”

“Yes.” She answered with a laugh. 

“I would prefer if you would try to not make me jealous of myself.” Ayato requested with a sigh.

“You know I was wondering when you would catch on.”

“It’s been a long day. A long week.” He explained. She could see the tiredness on his face.

“Why don’t we get my favorite actor to bed then instead of trying to hold a conversation about the day?”

“That would be smart.”

#kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #ayato x reader

[starry-eyedblog]

pain meds

ghost/soap/female reader

wordcount: 3,591

warning/tags: 18+ smut, non con, sexual assault dark themes, taking advantage, medications, lying, manipulation, gaslighting, pussy eating, grinding/humping

authors note: first long fic here, woohoo! pls do not read this if it's nae yer cup of tea. i'm trying to write darker themes and nae feel guilty, and here was the first thing my brain made so pls enjoy! also am i projecting a bit? aye, but it's fine!

─── ☆ ─── ☆ ─── ☆ ─── ☆ ───

it’s been a rough, tiring day and your body just cannot handle it anymore. you’re currently sat in the lounge, curled up on the worn out couch. you’ve been wanting to go to your bedroom for twenty minutes now but every time you move to get up, pain spikes through you. seems you’ll have to bite the bullet soon though.

“ye awright hen? yer lookin’ a bit peely-wally.” soap comments as he walks into the lounge with ghost behind him. you don’t bother to move your head up to stare into their eyes, keeping your face pressed into one of the flat cushions.

soap sits across from you, while ghost takes the space next to you on the couch, your knees pressing together due to him man spreading. “am fine soap, just sore.” you shrug him off, desperate to just get into your bedroom where your meds are. “c’mon, tell us what’s up.” ghost responds, his voice gruff and slightly muffled from his balaclava.

you want to shrug him off too, but now that both men are staring down at you with concern, theres no point trying to lie or ignore them. “it’s just my chronic pain. been really bad all day.” you say quietly. both men let out soft exhales at your answer, but soap is first to speak up. “need anythin’?” he asks, not taking his eyes off of you.

a light groan leaves you as you move slightly on the couch and pull your face out of the pillow, looking over at soap. “my pain meds, been wanting to get off the couch for ages now to lay down and take them.” you chuckle weakly and ghost is fast to answer. “want me to grab them and bring them through?” he asks, looking down at you with beady brown eyes.

“no no it’s alright, need to take them in my room.” you say weakly, pushing the blanket off of your body as you try stretch your legs out which sends a sharp pain through you. “why can’t you take them through here?” ghost questions, his eyebrow raising slightly. “long story short, they get me high off my face and i only feel comfortable taking them in my room.” you answer truthfully, looking at ghost.

“fit are ye on?” soap asks innocently, smiling kindly at you which makes you feel warm inside. “codeine, strongest dose.” you tell him, to which soap makes a low whistle. “yer on the proper strong stuff.” he chuckles, glancing at ghost who returns the eye contact. “assuming that you don’t take it often then.” ghost chimes in, looking down at you as you try stretch your limbs out.

“god no, wouldn’t be able to function. only take them when it’s real bad, can barely think let alone focus on them. it’s like my brain goes fuzzy.” you explain, all your words sinking into both mens minds and being stored away. “and you’re all alone when you take them?” ghost asks curiously. “yeah? i mean, the meds make me drowsy and tired so i wouldn’t be good company.” you chuckle before you’re pushing yourself off the couch and stretching with a low whine.

a few of your joints crack loudly as you stretch out a little, the pain spiking and ebbing away a few times. “well, i’m gonna go take them now. i’ll see you in a few hours.” you say softly, waving at both men who watch you. “dinnae be silly hen, we’re nae leavin’ ye alone in that state.” soap responds, standing up and stepping towards you as ghost gets off the couch.

“what are you on about?” you ask with a raised eyebrow and confused expression. “just like soap said, we’re gonna take care of you. would be pretty awful of us to let you suffer alone like that.” ghost answers, his voice stern to let you know theres no way of changing his mind. “that’s very kind of you guys but i can deal with it myself, like i have been for the past year.” you answer with an amused chuckle, but both men don’t laugh or smile which causes you to stop.

neither man speaks, and for a moment there is this uncomfortable tension that has you desperate to scurry away. “we’re teammates, gotta look out for one another.” ghost responds, and you feel your heart flutter slightly. they just want to help, look after you for a bit. and god, does that sound good. even though you can handle it usually, it’s still a whole ordeal to go through, and to have not one, but two of your close teammates help just a bit. it sounds really good.

“you sure?” you ask, wanting to know for definite. “aye hen, we’re sure.” soap responds, taking another step forward to wrap a strong arm around your waist and guiding you back to your room. well, no turning back now you think. ghost follows behind, watching soap support you back to your bedroom. once you make it, you feel soap’s arm pull away and you sit down on your neatly made bed, a sigh leaving you as you fall back and lay down on the clean duvet.

“just tell us what you need, we’ll get it for you.” ghost mumbles, looking around your room and spotting the packets of pills on your bedside table, as well as the full boxes of the codeine that has several warnings in red on it. “you really weren’t kiddin’ when you said they were strong, huh?” ghost comments, looking back at you as you lay on your bed.

a soft chuckle leaves you as you shake your head slightly, not saying anything as you push yourself up and rearrange your blankets and pillows to get comfy. “if you could make a hot water bottle and grab me a bottle of water, that would be perfect.” you say, looking up at both men that tower over your bed. ghost nods, grabbing the empty hot water bottle from your bed and leaving, making his way to the kitchen.

“so chronic pain eh? first time a’ve heard of that from ye.” soap says as he sits down on your bed, next to you but with his legs hanging off the side, feet firmly placed on the floor. you look over at him and shrug your shoulders sheepishly. “just never felt the need to tell anyone aside from price. it only gets really bad when i’ve pushed myself way too far.” you explain and soap nods in response. “were ye born with it?” he asks, head tilting to the side slightly and all you can see is a puppy when you look at him, his big blue eyes staring into yours with curiousness.

“yeah, so not much i can do about it.” you smile, a bit of sadness behind your words that soap notices but doesn’t say anything on. he doesn’t reply, unsure of what to say and instead sits a little closer to you. “well at least we can take care of ye, eh? deserve a break.” he says comfortingly, placing his hand on your thigh to give it a light pat which sends a soft blush across your face.

soon enough, ghost is making his way back into your bedroom with a hot water bottle and a fresh water plastic bottle. he doesn’t say anything, placing the plastic bottle on your bedside table and the hot water bottle next to you on the bed. you thank him softly, sliding the hot water bottle behind your back and pressing it into your lower back as you sit propped up with your pillows.

without a word, ghost is grabbing one of the half empty packets of your codeine tablets and handing it to you, where you pop too white pills out and swallow them down with the water. “so, how long till they kick in?” ghost asks, sitting down on the comfortable chair at your desk you use frequently. “uhm, around fifteen to thirty minutes. and when they hit, they hit strong.” you explain with a chuckle.

“we’ll keep ye company, pet.” soap says with a smile, still sat on the bed near you, his hand no longer touching your thigh. you’ve known these two men for about a year now, worked several missions together and trained together. you’ve gone for drinks, attended parties and events but somehow, never spent time in the others bedroom for more than five minutes. even though you’re nervous, to be around others on your meds, you have an underlining trust with them. after all you’ve gone through in your line of work, you kind of have to.

during the twenty minutes from when you swallowed down your pills, the three of you engage in casual conversation, talking about work and family life. it’s mostly soap talking but ghost chimes in enough for it to feel like a three way conversation that has you relaxing. once it hits around half an hour, you can feel the codeine take affect, your eyes unfocusing slightly and your brain feeling fuzzy around the edges. your body goes limp against the covers, shoulders untensing.

both men notice the change, how your sentences start to become more simpler and how it takes you longer to respond to the conversation. “that codeine kicked in then, hen?” soap asks with a chuckle and you groan, curling into your self a little as the drug starts to dig it’s claws in deeper and make you feel disorientated. “yeah,” you mumble, grabbing for your water to chug the cool beverage that feels like heaven sliding down your throat.

ghost and soap exchange a look that you miss as you chug the water bottle, soon putting it back on your bedside table as you feel weight on your bed beside you. was someone in your bed? when did that happen?

you look over, ghost now beside you while soap stays sat on the edge of your bed. “huh?” you ask, confused as to why they’ve moved closer. “grounding, will help keep you calm.” ghost murmurs as he wraps his strong arms around your frame and pulls you back so his chest is flush with your back, legs entangled on the duvet. a soft whine leaves you, not understanding what’s really happening and why ghost is holding you.

but it feels really nice, god it feels better than that. to have this shred of comfort while you’re in this state, it’s soothing and you’re grateful for it. you don’t answer, instead sinking into his touch as you lay there and let the codeine suck the pain away. soap watches on silently, taking in the sight before one warm hand is being rested on your calf, not moving.

“yer oot of it, aren’t ye?” soap asks as your eyes flutter shut and you press your face into the pillow for the cool relief it provides. “huh? no m’not.” you grumble after the words finally sink into your fuzzy brain, taking longer than normal. both men laugh at this, knowing it’s a lie.

“sure love,” ghost mutters into your shoulder, his balaclava brushing against your skin and causing you to flinch, your sense of touch heightened from the drugs which makes soap grin. “sensitive wee lass.” he says as his hand now moves up your calf and to your thigh slowly, rubbing at the warm skin which makes your thighs twitch and subconsciously try to shut, but soap’s strong hand stops them.

“eager, aren’t you mactavish?” ghost teases, looking at soap from over your shoulder, his eyes showing smugness. “fuck off ye bawbag, ah ken you are too.” he mutters, glaring at ghost as his hand grips at your thigh a little tighter which pushes a confused whine out of you. “shh, you’re okay.” ghost whispers, his voice gravely and sending a pulse straight down to your core.

“wh-what are you guys doing?” you groan, your eyesight slightly blurry around the edges as you slowly open your eyes and push yourself up a little to look over at soap who sends you a cheeky grin. “takin’ care of ye pet, lay back doon.” soap commands in a sickly sweet voice, and who are you to deny him?

ghost presses a flat palm to your chest and pushes you back down into the bed, his arm then coiling around your waist giving you no room to move or wiggle. “just needed someone to look after you, eh?” ghost rumbles quietly, watching the way soap’s hand teases at your thighs, dipping into your inner thigh for a moment or two before pulling back. “go on then, touch her.” ghost orders with stern eyes, which makes soap’s head perk up.

“you heard what i said, touch her.” ghost repeated, his voice a little lower as he watches the words compute in soap’s brain. soap isn’t one to disobey orders, and soon his hand is ghosting over your crotch, lightly pressing on your clit. you gasp and whine, face pressing into the pillow. your meds have always made you sensitive, made you feel like an exposed, raw wire.

soap’s pressure soon becomes harsher, pressing harder and harder onto your clit as you gasp and whine pathetically, trying to writhe in ghosts hold. “want more hen? huh?” soap chuckles, looking up at you as he cups your crotch. the codeine starts to sink in even further, meddling with your brain and for a moment you stay silent, trying to convey a sentence or even a couple words.

“words, love.” ghost whispers into your ear, his balaclava pressing against your flushed ear. “wh-why do i feel..” you trail off, trying to find the word somewhere in your drug induced state. “good?” you finish after a moment, and both men chuckle condescendingly at your words. “wonder why.” ghost comments as soap begins to pull your pyjama shorts off.

it doesn’t take long for soap to get them down and off your legs, thrown to the side without care as he leans down between your thighs and brushes his thumb slowly down your clothed cunt. all that lies between the two of you is your simple black underwear, making the touch even stronger. you gasp out as he pressed down on your clit, his other arm wrapping around your thigh to get closer.

“put that tongue to good use, yeah?” ghost says smugly, looking at soap who growls quietly before he’s ripping your underwear off and delving into your cunt like a starved man. you cry out, back trying to arch as your fingers frantically grab at your duvet. soap runs his wet tongue over your slit, making his way up to your clit while ghost combs one of his big hands through your hair. “feels good huh? you like johnny between your legs, isn’t that right?” he whispers into your ear, his hand thats wrapped around your wait tightening ever so slightly.

you let out a high whine, groaning as you turn your head to the side quickly which causes you to feel dizzy and fazed, panting softly into the pillow. is… is johnny eating you out right now? god you can’t even wrap your brain around that right now, your drugged mind too fried by the pleasure to think much. short, pathetic whimpers leave you as johnny continues to eat you out with no remorse, your wetness dripping down his chin and soaking his face.

your hips buck up several times without you realising, your eyes rolling back as you drool onto your pillow. soap is groaning into your slick cunt, his fingers digging painfully into your thighs so you can’t escape even if you wanted to. his tongue is thrusting into your soaking hole, paying no attention to your clit as he enjoys your whines and gasps. he isn’t doing this for you, he’s doing it for himself.

ghost watches the scene before him, his trousers growing tighter and tighter around his crotch. (he was already hard at the idea of you powerless against him and soap). he slowly runs his big hand up to your chest, sneaking under your t-shirt and bra to reach your puffy nipple that he meanly tugs on. a soft cry leaves you, the touch too rough causing you try squirm away but it’s useless. he chuckles softly at your reaction, resting his chin on your shoulder as his hips roll up and grind against your arse.

a quiet sigh of relief leaves ghost as he grind his hips up, finally getting some touch to his neglected cock as he continues to toy with your nipples. your entire body is boneless between the two soldiers as you take all they are giving you. it’s too much, your mind unable to fully comprehend if this is real or some wet dream you’re currently having after being knocked out by your pain meds.

you’re not sure if it feels like five minutes or five hours, soaking in the pleasure and mean touches while your mind fizzles away from the codeine. soon enough it grows too strong and you’re falling asleep with soap’s tongue inside you and ghost’s bulge against your backside. they watch as the meds lull you into a deep sleep, head pressed into the pillow and mouth agape. this doesn’t stop soap though, he stays between your thighs for several more minutes, his hips soon grinding down into the mattress and humping like a dog in heat until both men are coming in their boxers.

the two of them tidy you up and tuck you into bed with your underwear and shorts back on, not leaving a single trace of themselves as they exit your room and go off to do their own separate stuff. it’s not until a few hours later that you wake up groggy and alone, your room now dark. you squint your eyes, looking to your left and making out the half drunk bottle. you waste no time in snatching it and gulping down the water before clumsily climbing out of bed.

you try to recall what happened before you were knocked out, vague memories of soap between your legs and ghost behind you. they sexually assaulted you… right? or was it all just a twisted wet dream? you’re sure you really felt them touching you but you’ve woken up all alone without a single bit of evidence to back up your accusation.

you saunter out of your room, not looking too good as you try track down both men which doesn’t take long as you find them in the lounge, quietly talking between themselves. “oh, there ye are hen. were ye takin’ a nap like?” soap asks, seeing you walk into the room with a confused expression. they take in how disoriented you are and do their best not to laugh. in their eyes, you look just like a lost puppy.

“what? you knew i was asleep. the both of you took me through to my room and.. and you touched me after i was all drugged up.” you frown, accusing them while you stand in the doorway. ghost chuckles quietly, staring up at you. “bad dream?” he asks, causing soap to laugh.

“fit de ye mean drugged up? did ye take somethin’? is that why yer accusing us of being perverts?” soap asks, a questioning expression on his face as your face contorts to confusion. “huh? i told you guys, how i take codeine sometimes for my chronic pain?” you say, not sounding totally convinced as you slowly sit down on the couch across from them. “codeine? chronic pain? first time a’ve heard of that love.” ghost replies, leaning forward a little to look at you a bit more intently which has goosebumps rising over your skin.

“i told you guys this already, and then yo-you took advantage of me. i remember it.” you mumble, feeling more and more defeated as the conversation continues. “think those meds have scrambled yer brain a tad pet, that never happened. codeine is pretty strong, sure it’s nae just them messin’ wit ye?” soap responds, concerned as he looks at you and it makes you feel even worse, the guilt starting to eat up at you as you see how sincere they are. did you truly just make all this up in a dream? it’s common for your meds to blur the lines between dream and reality, you’ve fallen victim to it many a time.

you feel absolutely mortified now, rushing out of your room to accuse two of your close friends of sexual assault, thank god no one else was around to hear your accusations.“…i gu-guess so. i’m really sorry guys, my meds they always play with me. make things feel real and make other things feel like dreams. im-im so sorry for accusing you of that.” you usher out, the embarrassment washing over you. both of them shake their heads, “it’s okay darlin’. we forgive you, ain’t that right johnny?” ghost says, glancing over at soap who smiles. “course, nae hard feelings hen.” he responds and looks over at you.

you let out a sigh, your hands running through your hair as you close your eyes. “can’t believe i thought that was real.” you chuckle weakly, leaning back into the couch and soap laughs softly. “so you gonna tell us fit happened in that wee dream of yers then?” he teases playfully and you flush pink, shaking your head frantically. “god no,” you utter and soap laughs again at your embarrassment, ghost joining in.

@alwaysshallow

@juvenillia

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghoap x reader #smut #tw noncon #tw manipulation #tw medication #cod x reader #ghost cod #soap cod

[icarustypicalfall]

There you are

MASTERLIST

summary: period comfort, no further explanation

warnings: SFW fem! reader, periods, tiny headcanons\fic sorry

note: not proofread, I'll edit it later

Also I'll post another fic about rudy in the day, i am just emptying my head or I'll explode.

“Like fire weeping from a cedar tree, know that my love would burn with me We'll live eternally”

This man is just too sweet :(

Rudy is usually just too sweet, he never stops offering affection, his gentle touch and tiny kisses are enough to cease your worries and sorrow.

He always keeps a snack and water in his nightstand in case you woke up at night.

When you wanted to come over, he was more than excited. He wanted to pamper you and take care of you.

His strongest trait is how observant and thoughtful he can be.

Rudy loved you deerly, he wished to give you the Ultimest love and unlimited comfort.

He offered to go shopping "to restock his apartment"

Secretly wanting to know what brands you used/prefered so he gets some for you, "just in case" :(

He ended getting more than just one packet of tampons.

Rudy got a whole section of sanitary/hygiene products and put them in a special drawer in his bathroom.

He even got your prefered soap and conditioner. Along a vanilla scented candle and a plushie :(

You thought he'll change after some time?

Ha

Jokes on you

Turns out he planned to be the sweetest man till his last breath :((

Today, because it had to be today :(

He figured out something was wrong when you woke up earlier than you usually do.

You were restless, fidgeting and roaming around.

He realized you were on your period when you kept holding your stomach and complain about back pain and headaches.

Your burning cheeks as you nodded, saying you were okay were the key.

Why were you embarrassed of telling him?

He didn't understand this embarrassment, you had nothing to feel shame about.

Rudy made sure to check the calendar and marked it down.

He did even keep a tracker on his phone for this time of month. Why wouldn't he?

He uttered, eyeing your tired form

"you alright, mi Cielo?"

He sighed when you nodded with an embarrassed yes.

You were lying

You were in fact, facing the ultimate- greatest - throeful - most painful period cramp of your entire existence.

You shed a tear while keeping the huge grin from ear to ear

Ha

You thought that'll fool him?

Nuh uh

He told you to go lay while he prepared something

Rudy preppared you a cup of warm tea, smiling as he handed you the cup

You sipped the hot drink, grateful for his kindness

He whispered, sitting beside you on the coach.

"There is no need to be embarrassed...I get it...you are not feeling well, and thats understandable, I just want you to be comfortable."

He smiled, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

When you finally told him, he chuckled, kissing your forehead.

"Thats alright, I figured you had it...just wanted to be here for you, mija"

You thought he'll be annoyed because of your mood swings or cravings?

Ha

Fool

"You are not whiny nor too sensative. You are just a human being...there is nothing to be guilty of, cariña.

"We can take the day off and rest at home with some pizza and icecream..."

He was startled when you started to tear up.

"Mi amor if you don't want pizza we can make something else!"

He nodded when you explained through tears you were just a tid more emotional, and he was just too sweet:(

Rudy kissed your tears, his lips brushing over your eye lids and cheeks :(

He smiled, uttering.

"I love you...you deserve the world, amor, you hear me?"

He said in a soft tender tone, letting his eyes roam on your tired face.

"we will have a nice day and you must rest as much as you want. I got you, amor..."

He ended by making the best pizzas. He gave you medicine, a warm bottle to put on your tummy and the best back masage of your existence :(

Rudy was unlike any men you ever met, he was just, him.

He treated you like the most precious gem.

He loved you deerly.

In fact, he wished for nothing more than holding you in nights like these, where you bury your head in his neck and he tells you fairytale in Spanish till you fall asleep.

He adored you

this could be me but instead i have an exam and dump finals to take care of. help

#𓆩♡𓆪 faith writes #call of duty #rudy x you #rodolfo rudy parra #rudy cod #rudy x reader #rudy parra #rudy parra x reader #rudy parra hcs #period comfort #comfort #cod #ghost simon riley #call of duty fanfic #writblr #mw2 fanfic #cod mw #cod mw3 #call of duty mw2 #cod headcanons #call of duty headcanons #task force 141 #call of duty fics #cod fic

[cozy-cinnamon-roll]

Stitches (Part II)

(Read Part I Here! used to be We Interrupt This Broadcast... changed the name because I feel like this fits better 😅)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Rosie, Ler!OC, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, very brief blood mention, medical themes (non-graphic & painless). And again, this is set right after Alastor gets his ass handed to him by Adam, so you can expect some angst (don't worry, he gets better).

If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige. 💕

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

"Almost ready" I said. "Basically finished" I said. Sorry y'all, the Chronic Illness Fairy struck. 😅 I will say this was my favorite part to write, but also the one I'm most uncertain about... bit more angst in this installment and I'm not much of an angst writer lol... but with Rosie in the mix (especially as a ler), angst never lasts long. 🥰

Also I changed the title. Hopefully it's not confusing that way... cuz without Part 1 this fic makes zero sense 😅

One last thing... I'm so happy y'all like Trudy! Was thinking about posting a lil sketch of her at some point (I need a new insomnia project now that this fic is done 😅). I've been having a truly awful few weeks on the anxiety front, so all the positive feedback on Part I has been quite literally making my days 💕

Hope you enjoy!!

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Ooh, you stubborn little bastard. You're still gonna refuse to laugh?" Rosie mutters.

Alastor doesn't dare try to speak. All he can manage is a defiant shake of his head.

"Look, my friend. If you 'don't mind a little tickling,' and getting all giggly is your specialty…" Rosie tweaks his bottom rib, eliciting a noise that comes just short of a squeak. "What, exactly, is the problem here?"

"I'm supposed to be in control!" he grinds out through his twitching grin.

"You are in control, sir." Trudy abruptly withdraws her hands, holding them up innocently. "You can tell me to stop at any time."

Alastor cringes. He was sorta hoping no one would point that out.

"Which is why I find it so fascinating that you haven't yet." A sly smirk creeps across Rosie's face.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"I- I'm humoring you!"

"Humoring me?" Rosie tilts her head. "My dear, I hope you're not doing this just for my sake. If you don't want Trudy to check for further injury-"

"No, I do! O-on my terms!"

"This is on your terms."

"Yes, but-"

"In fact, you insisted."

He stumbles again, before mumbling another meager, "…to humor you!"

Trudy shoots her boss a disoriented look - but Rosie, as usual, is hearing her friend loud and clear.

"Alastor." Rosie rolls her eyes, gestures for Trudy to step aside, and scoots over to place a hand on his knee. "Adam is dead. Everyone in hell thinks you're either succumbing to your wounds in some remote gutter or hiding in whatever alternate dimension you just spent the last seven years. You're not even 'on air'." She leans in. "You can drop the act for a moment, if it's what you need."

That certainly hits the mark. For the first time, Alastor's smile falters - not completely dropping, but certainly losing much of the strained quality it's had since he arrived.

"I wish I could, my dear."

Encouraged, Rosie continues. "Well, what's stopping ya? As much as I love spending time with Alastor the Radio Demon… if you wanna take this opportunity to let out whoever's underneath that effervescent grin of yours, you know we wouldn't mind."

Alastor swallows - and for the first time in a decades, Rosie finds his expression difficult to read. "Rosie, I'm afraid I can't really..."

"I mean, you've been holding that same silly show-host-smile for years! Don't tell me you've never gotten tired of it!"

"It's sewn on, Rosie."

"…What?"

He hesitates. "Let's just say today wasn't the first time I've been, ah... stitched up." As he speaks, he gestures to his toothy grin. And for once, there's not a trace of distortion in his voice.

Rosie's dark eyes go wide when she realizes what he means. The cannibal overlord just stands there for a beat, in an uncharacteristic moment of shock.

But, being Rosie, she quickly recovers. "Well, so what?"

"I'm just saying, I'm afraid I can't really drop the act."

"Nonsense! Since when has your act had anything to do with your face?" Rosie flicks her hand, as if brushing the thought aside. "Who cares if you can't show genuine Alastor. I wanna hear him."

"But my microphone..."

"You're doing just fine without it."

Once again, this attempt at reassurance only makes Alastor look more disturbed. "Th-this can't be me!"

"...Well, no. This right here sure isn't the Alastor I know. But…"

Alastor is barely listening to her anymore. His broadcast persona has been his sole identity since he was alive. Now his radio tower has been reduced to rubble, his microphone snapped clean in half, even his carefully-styled clothing left in tatters…

If this is the Genuine Alastor he's now stuck with - panicked, stuttering, weak - he can't imagine how he'll ever be able to face the rest of hell…

But these racing thoughts are once again interrupted by nails tracing up his sides. A sharp yelp cuts the air as poor Alastor just about jumps out of his skin.

"…Perhaps I can offer a little help?" Rosie suggests gently, once she has his undivided (and adorably flustered) attention. "On your terms, of course?"

Alastor just gazes back at her for a long moment. "What do you have in mind?"

"I happen to know something about you that even you can't fake."

The radio demon hesitates… before heaving a sigh and, to Rosie's surprise, giving a small nod of consent.

She breaks into a brilliant (and frankly terrifying) smile.

Before Alastor can brace himself, Rosie's hands have both found his sides and begun working into his waist. Having just watched him squirm around under Trudy's thorough probing twice (and adored every second of it), she already has a pretty good idea of where his worst spots are.

Which is made abundantly clear by Alastor's reaction. Within seconds he's gone from still trying to hold it all in by habit, to giggling into his hands, to cackling hysterically.

And it's the kind of laughter she's spent the last seven years missing. This isn't the confident, taunting chuckle he brings out for battles or brushing off rivals; this is bright, helpless, occasionally hiccuping laughter, the kind that is nearly impossible for him to stop once he starts - and the kind she only has the privilege of hearing when something truly amuses him.

"You can't sew your laughter on," Rosie reminds him. "This is all yours."

Rosie's fingers creep up under his shirt to scribble on bare tummy, adding a couple new sweet spots to her mental catalogue. This technique brings out even more of her favorite little quirks: the way he bats playfully (and completely ineffectually) at her wrists; his repeated attempts to speak around his laughter that only result in frantic spurts of incomprehensible, giggle-laced gibberish.

As she traces her nails across his lower belly she also finds a tiiiny layer of unexpected pudge. Which probably shouldn't surprise her - he's been out of the battle scene for seven years, after all. All those deer carcasses have to go somewhere.

Regardless, she finds it terribly endearing for some reason... and the surge of affection translates into a corresponding surge in the intensity of Rosie's tickles.

"AHaha! Ro- Rosie!" he blurts, his voice jumping a full octave higher than normal. "Stop!!"

Rosie removes her hands immediately. "Stop?"

"Aha- ah- well- I mean, er…" He stumbles breathlessly, and gives a sheepish cough.

"You didn't really want me to stop, did you?"

Rosie resumes with a chuckle, reeling herself in just a little. "How 'bout we say... oh... 'enough,' if you really want me to quit?"

Of course, she has to go and say it out loud.

"M-more of a reflehex..." he admits reluctantly.

Alastor tosses a shaky thumbs-up at her, already too lost in his own giggles to manage a verbal reply.

And he's gotta admit… Rosie was absolutely right. He wouldn't stop her right now for all the souls in hell. There's a reason Alastor has the most recognizable evil cackle of any other overlord. He can't help but find dissolving into laughter as cathartic and exhilarating as always - even if this time, it's not at some poor soul's misfortune. It's a result of his best friend's affection for her darling deer demon.

"As fun as getting your soft little belly is," Rosie muses, pausing to let Alastor catch his breath for a moment, "I can't help but wonder if you're ticklish anywhere else…"

Alastor may be off the air, but Rosie can practically hear the screech of microphone feedback just by the look on his face. "….I plead the fifth."

"Have you considered his ears?" Trudy pipes up shyly. While she'd managed to restrain herself behind an impeccably professional bedside manner earlier, it had taken everything in her power not to stroke Alastor's ears when she'd been close enough to do so. They were just. so. fluffy.

"Ohhh, heavens…" Alastor, for his part, curls in on himself at the mere suggestion.

Rosie grins. "Hey, 'no' is always an option."

A long pause. Alastor can't believe he's considering this. But the sensation of being tickled, as unbearable as it is, does feel awfully pleasant… and it's been so long since anyone has dared to touch him…

And what else does he have to lose at this point, anyway?

"I suppose if you're… very gentle…"

"Are you aware that your ears are the softest thing in the nine circles?"

This stipulation ends up backfiring. When it comes to his ears, gentle is worse. So, so much worse.

Poor Alastor is too busy clutching his stomach and snickering madly into his sleeve to reply.

"I should know, I work in retail. These right here-" Rosie traces her fingers down the feathery-soft edges, sending the radio demon into a new round of hysterics. "-Would fetch a pretty penny."

"They're nohot for saHA-ale!!"

"Nooo, I should say not." Rosie's hapless victim lurches back into the cushions as her fingers find the fluffy region at the base of his ears. Even without the microphone, his cackles have no problem filling the room. "You're the only demon classy enough to wear them."

"And don' you - GAHaha! - f-forget it!" He's so drunk on laughter now that he's beginning to slur his words. His careful elocution has gone the same place as his steady tone, and lack of stutter.

Luckily, he's also far too drunk on laughter to care.

...Right about there, Rosie notices that the faint hum of radio static in the air is no longer just in her head.

He is laughing his heart out for the first time in weeks. Genuinely laughing for the first time in decades. And laughing completely for himself, for his own enjoyment, without need for intimidation or control or image or audience, for the first time since long before he died.

While Trudy typically can't say much for her self-preservation instinct, she's got enough of one to feel hesitant joining her boss in tickling the most powerful overlord in hell (outside the pretense of medical intervention, at least). So she just stands back, watching fondly as The Most Dangerous Overlord This Side of the Pentagram utterly destroys the deer demon.

...At least, until she notices a flicker of green light out of the corner of her eye. Lying forgotten on the end table, the splintered ends of Alastor's microphone are sparking and crackling like live wires.

The surgeon creeps over for a closer look, staring in fascination. And then - just as Rosie gets poor Alastor behind the ears and delivers a scribble to his tummy at the same time - she ever-so-gently nudges the fractured ends closer to one another.

To her surprise, a bright green spark arcs clear across the gap. For a fraction of a second, the whole staff radiates a flash of a familiar green glow.

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Keep him laughing, Rosie," Trudy murmurs over her shoulder. It appears the Radio Demon's downfall will be nothing more than an intermission.

Thanks for being so patient with me y'all! Hope it was worth the wait 💕

💜- Cozy

#lee!alastor #ler!rosie #ticklish!alastor #oh deer he's ticklish #hazbin hotel tickling #hazbin hotel tickles #ticklefic #dr. trudy sawblade #my ocs

[thelov3lybookworm]

Caged In (part 2)

Part 1

Day 2: Style

Summary: Lucien has some really amazing fashion sense, and his newly made friend is very interested in his wardrobe.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: because many of you were asking about a part 2, it gave me the idea to do the whole week in this series. I'll try my best to make a part for everyday now ❣️ this is not much, but I'm trying and simply having some fun 😉

Also, I don't think the fic really fits much into the prompt, but it's alright. Right? Anyways, I decided I wanted to see him in clothes that are not green or red, so...

So here is my second contribution to @lucienweekofficial 🫶

(I don't really like this, but anyways. I wrote this in 1‐2 hours, what am I even expecting. Maybe I'll like tomorrow's more?)

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n watched intently as Lucien and Jurian bickered over who would cut the wood for the fire and who would go into the market to get the items necessary for the night's dinner.

They had been at it for quite some time, and because she was bored, she had gotten herself a cup of tea and settled down to watch the two of them.

It had been one month since that night, since Lucien had helped her flee the night court, and she was surprised no one from the inner circle had arrived to search for her. Sure, she had received countless letters and notes from Rhys and Cassian, demanding to know where she was and that she return home.

She wouldn't do that anytime soon.

She had only left a note that said, I'm tired of your overprotective tendencies before she left.

Cassian had always been overprotective over her, since the moment he found her hiding in her mother's skirts and staring at him and the other males of the camp, just before they had pulled her mother away and slaughtered her.

After Cassian had been born, the males of the camp had taken him from his mother, ready to kill her. But before they could, she had sneaked away and ran. After days of running, she ran into a fae man, who gaslit her into believing they were in love and raped her, hence making her pregnant with Y/n.

Because Y/n's father was not an Illyrian, Y/n was only half Illyrian, and that meant she could make her wings vanish, just like Rhys.

After Nyx's birth, she and Cassian had visited an Illyrian camp due to some unrest having arisen. The men there were too pissed that a female was trying to command them, one of them even daring to get into her space and rant about how he would do unimaginable things to her and she would soon die.

And Cassian had taken him a little too seriously, confining Y/n to the river house hoping that she'll be safe.

But in the process, he had caged her in.

The sound of Jurian's cheers brought Y/n out of her thoughts, and she looked up from her cup of tea.

Jurian grinned as he flounced up to Y/n, ruffling her hair on the way in. She swatted him away and he chuckled.

"So? He's going to the market?"

Lucien grumbled out an affirmation, starting to walk away towards the forest nearby. Y/n contemplated staying or following Lucien. If she stayed, she'd die of boredom untill Vassa arrived. If she followed, she could get some entertainment by irritating Lucien.

Making her decision, she shoved her empty cup into Jurian's chest, who was on his way out. She kissed his cheek in apology, sprinting to catch up to Lucien.

"Hello again."

"Why are you following me–"

"The weather seems really good today, don't you think?"

He glanced at her, his eyes narrowing before he sighed. "I don't know."

She grinned, bumping his shoulder with her own. Or atleast she tried to, her shoulder barely reaching his.

He shook his head, entering the clearing where he would chop the firewood in. She trotted to a nearby tree with huge roots where she took a seat, watching him.

He was wearing one of his beautifully made tunics today, the first three buttons undone. It was black colored, an unusual color to see him in. But it suited him nonetheless, maybe even more than his normal colours.

His breeches were light grey, bordering on white. They hugged his legs perfectly, leaving very little to the imagination. The powerful muscles in his thighs rippled lightly as he stalked around the clearing, gathering wood to chop.

She simply watched him, taking note of the elegance and grace in his every step and movement.

Soon he had gathered the amount of wood he deemed fit, and he got ready to begin chopping them up into smaller bits. He pulled out a strip of leather from his pocket, and pulled his long hair back, tying it off in a neat knot at the base of his neck. He then proceeded to fold his sleeves up to his elbows, the muscles in his forearms flexing, the rings on his fingers glinting in the dying rays of the sun.

Y/n's mouth dried.

But she wasn't one to blame when a male like Lucien was doing things like that in front of her.

He lifted the axe, bending a little to chop into the wood. The necklaces he wore dangled in front of his chest, making him look all the more... delicious.

Delicious?!? What the hell?

She watched him, all the muscles in his body rippling. She wanted to go up to him, and pull his–

No. She didn't want anything. She couldn't want anything.

A small smirk formed on his lips, and Y/n knew she had been caught.

"You know, it's a little rude to stare, my lady."

She swallowed, trying to get her tongue off the roof of her mouth as he lifted the small axe, bringing it down on the wood again. There was something she had been wanting to ask him.

"You know, I was wondering if I could see your wardrobe."

He paused, axe suspended in the air as he half turned to her.

"What?"

"I said–"

"I heard what you said. My lady."

She flushed. "Oh."

After a few moments, he spoke again. "Why do you want to see my clothes?"

"Um... I wanted to... see if there was something I wanted to steal from your clothes."

He blinked. "Why... why would you want to do that?"

"Because I think you have really amazing clothes and... you have a good style."

He smirked. "Is that so?"

She groaned, throwing her hair back.

"Are you going to let me have a shirt of yours or not?"

"Why do you want one?" He asked, turning his focus back to chopping the wood.

"Because I want to wear something good for tonight because Vassa is taking me to dinner tonight."

Lucien's brows Rose, but he didn't stop. "And why is she taking you out?"

"Because the both of us are tired of you males and we both deserve a day off. You can babysit Jurian for one night, can you not?"

Lucien laughed, the sound sending the butterflies in Y/n's stomach into a panic.

"And you don't have a tunic you can wear outside?"

"I don't like mine. They are very simple, and Vassa will kill me if I wore something like that."

Lucien sighed. "I guess you will not leave me alone unless I let you have my shirts?"

"You might be right."

"Well then, you can take a look, when we get back."

Y/n squealed. "Thank you Lucien!"

He smiled.

And so began Y/n's harmless little crush on Lucien.

Little did she know it was not, in fact, just a harmless little crush.

•○🌑○•

Part 3

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @lizziesfirstwife

#acotar #Lucien x reader #Acotar fanfic #mating bond #a court of thorns and roses #Lucien fluff #acotar fandom #acotar series #fluff #Lucien fic #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon #Acotar writing #acotar fluff #acotar x reader #reader insert #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #pro lucien vanserra #lucien #Cassian sister #Lucienweek2023 #Lucien week #Lucien fanfic

[amandacanwrite]

The Violet Thread of Fate Part One:

The Reclusive Wizard and the Cheeky Upstart

POV || Third Person, dual POV Gale Dekarios and Elinna Inklynn (Tav)

Pairing || Elinna Inklynn (Half-drow tav) and Gale Dekarios

Length || 5,500 Words

Scenario || In an alternative timeline for the events of BG3 Elinna Inklynn, an orphan from the Moonshae Islands seeks out the tutelage of accomplished wizard Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep. She has a knack with the Weave, but no money or connections to actually learn how to harness it. She has heard the wizard is a gentleman and a schollar, and hopes she can appeal to him to take her on as his apprentice in exchange for her help around his tower, with his research, and in running errands in Waterdeep. Unfortunately for her, Gale Dekarios does not take on apprentices.

Warnings || Age gap (Perhaps about 10ish years), depiction of depression and heart ache, description of very, very mild body horror.

A/n || I hope you all enjoy this very indulgent little fic I'm starting. I am already having entirely too much fun with it. Please keep in mind that while this fic will have a good amount of characters and scenarios from the canon events of BG3 I am planning on taking a lot of creative liberties and may leave out certain situations/characters for the sake of flow!

If you like this, you may also like my original works! I have a writing taglist that you can sign up for simply by commenting or reblogging and letting me know you'd like to be added. OR you can fill out this form if you'd like to be specific about which works you'd like to be tagged in.

Tag list || @softvampirewhump @horizonstride @thoughts-of-bear @mymybirdie @tiedyedghoulette @drabblesandimagines @madwomansapologist @hijirikaww @tryingtowritestuff24 @laserlope @auroraesmeraldarose @puckprimrose @dont-try-pesticide

A Reclusive Wizard

“Mr. Dekarios, if you would just consider it–” Tara suggested as she fluttered alongside her charge. 

“Tara, no,” Gale said. “We are not dropping the wards and we’re not taking visitors. The orb is too volatile.”

“But, Mr. Dekarios–I’ve told you this isolation of yours–” 

“Tara–enough,” Gale shouted, exasperated. “You are my friend. You’re not my mother. I’m a grown man, who has done quite well for himself, might I add, and I don’t need your–your incessant fussing.”

“Mr. Dekarios!” Tara tutted, her whiskers perking forward with her disapproval. “My incessant fussing is what helped you figure out how to stabilize the orb in the first place, may I remind you. And if you so tire of my incessant fussing, allow me to divest of its burden! I may not be your mother, but your mother is a friend to me and will happily put me up.”

“Tara,” Gale said. “Wait–I didn’t mean you should leave–”

“I know that. But I am also quite aware that my willingness to fetch magical items and act as your little familiar has proven to only enable your reclusive habits,” she retorted. “Perhaps you will not listen to me, but when you run out of biscuits for your tea, perhaps you’ll see the reason in getting a little bit of fresh air…and perhaps a bath…and for the sake of the gods a shave.”

Tara flitted her way up to one of the high windows in the tower, pausing on the sill before leaving.

“Tara, don’t go,” Gale said, his eyes taking on a sort of sorry, piteous quality. “Please, just stay here.”

“Mr. Dekarios, those big glittering eyes won’t work on me any longer,” Tara said. “I’ve known you too long to be bewitched by your pouting. If you so wish me to return, you can come fetch me at your childhood home. The walk will do you well.”

And with that, she soared right out of the window, leaving Gale of Waterdeep entirely and utterly alone. 

Gale scowled up at the window she’d escaped from before sighing and smearing a hand down his face. He cupped his hand over his mouth and heaved out a low grumble, lost in thought as he often was these days. 

Perhaps Tara was right…maybe it was time to leave the tower. To engage in the ease of camaraderie at The Yawning Portal, reach out to the colleagues that had tried to pay him a visit in the year since his relationship with Mystra had come to an end–since this tangle of Netherese magic made a home of his chest cavity. 

But it wasn’t just the volatile nature of the orb that worried him. It wasn’t as if he thought a raucous night with his friends would trigger an explosion to level the city he called home. Even with the constant peril of the orb in his chest being destabilized by a too-strong emotion, there was a deeper fear inspiring the reluctance.

Gale Dekarios was used to being an outlier. Unfortunately, it was the otherside of the coin of being a particularly gifted wizard. As a child, it had been a source of ostracization. As an adolescent it made him the subject of many an ill-begotten rivalry. As a young man he had begun to learn how to minimize the isolation by compensating for the inevitable inferiority complex he inspired in others by learning to be charming and funny–to couch his corrections in complimentary language so that he could have some measure of friendship.

It wasn’t often that he could find people that could keep up with him or converse with him on his level–at least, not where the subject of magic came into play. But he’d learned to accept that and enjoy the company of other wizards–even non-wizards–in different ways. 

A game of lanceboard, the critical analysis of a book, a spirited debate on the merits of the shadow arts when applied to the correct endeavors. Now, as a man in his late 30’s with questionable knees, he felt nicely secure in his ability to play nice with others. 

But this new sense of separation–this insurmountable mountain between himself and the other–had been so very devastating to the life he had carefully cultivated. 

How could he listen to other people lament about their sordid love affairs, the politics at the academy–anything– with any measure of understanding or empathy? How could he confide in the people who he used to call his friends? 

He was alone in the tower, but he wasn’t certain he could face the profound isolation of trying to connect with someone about his condition, only to find them staring back at him in utter befuddlement. Or worse, with soulless platitudes and what he could only describe as foolish optimism.

Who could possibly make him feel better when there was no way he could ever feel better? How could he listen to the woes of friends and earnestly care about them when he had been forsaken by the goddess of the only thing he held sacred in his life?

He couldn’t. That was a the truth of it. And that was why he didn’t want visitors. He didn’t want to subject his friends to the poor quality of his care; didn’t want to expose them to this unique brand of selfishness and bitterness. 

He’d had enough of destroying things. 

But he also knew he needed Tara–not just because of the artifacts, but because she was his oldest and longest standing friendship. And because the tower, in her absence, had already become unbearably quiet.

And he supposed it had been a while since he last saw his mother…

He sighed and turned away from his mess of a study, climbing up the two flights of stairs to his bedchambers. Once there, he conjured himself a bath as he undressed, leaving his house robes in a pile on the floor before stepping into the steaming water. 

It smelled of bay laurel and lavender–an old combination that Mystra loved to use when they’d shared baths together. His mind drifted to the thought of his goddess cradled against his body, how small she felt even with her considerable power, the feeling of her silky hair catching on his skin as he kissed the hollow of her neck and…

“Don’t take that path in your mind, Gale. She’s the last person you should be thinking about right now,” he told himself as he gave his cheek a couple firm, bracing pats with his hand. He let his head drop back in the water and sighed. 

The water filled his ears, quieting the ambient sounds in the room around him and creating an echochamber of his head. He heard the airy sound of his breaths coming and going in and out of his lungs; heard the gentle trickling sounds of his fingers creating tiny currents under the water; heard the sound of his heart still beating in his over-crowded chest. 

He was still alive. 

There could be hope for him yet. 

Unlikely, sure, but there could be. 

After washing up with some simple soap, he got out of the bath and toweled off. 

He walked over to the small wardrobe where he kept his things and slapped a couple lazy splashes of a fragranced suspension he’d made onto his neck, favoring his pulse points as he used to when he’d go out for a night at The Yawning Portal. He trimmed his beard as a small concession to Tara (he would not be shaving it completely, thank you very much,) and got dressed. 

He decided he would wear one of his nicer sets of robes. It’d been a while since he’d properly dressed himself in something other than simple tunics and roughspun practice robes. He started with some leather trousers and his under shirt, layering the criss-crossed front with car and fastening it with the ties at his waist to create a slender, tapered silhouette. Then he slipped the robe on, and paused as he caught a glance of himself in the mirror. 

He’d not really been thinking when he selected the robe, but this was one of Mystra’s favorites on him. Various shades of violet with a wine-colored sash. 

Violet, of course, was the color of the weave. Mystra’s color. 

Would she want him to eliminate the color from his wardrobe altogether? Now that she’d left him to his devices? Surely a goddess couldn’t bar him from wearing a color. Hopefully not, considering more than half of his wardrobe was some shade of lilac, lavender or morning glory.

Whatever the case, he fastened the buckles and straightened the sash the wine colored sash, trying once again to put Mystra out of his mind. He did a flick of his hands to lace up the sleeves and then slid on some leather bracers for good measure. 

It wasn’t as if he had any intention of doing any fighting or shooting any arrows, but he liked how they looked. And it had been so long since he’d looked in the mirror and thought to himself my, look at that handsome devil.

Finally he looked at the mop of his hair. It’d also been too long since he’d gotten a cut…now his messy curls fell past his shoulders when he usually preferred to keep it short enough to comb back with a bit of emollient or pomade. He was certain his mother would gripe about it and then he would have to deal with incessant fussing two fold between his mother and Tara. Still, it was dark outside–long past the time any salons would be open, so he gathered half of it up, bundling it as neatly as he could manage around his two forefingers and secured it with a two-pronged hairpin. 

He looked at the earring on his wardrobe and hedged for a moment. 

He’d been given the earring as a gift from Mystra when he’d first encountered her as a boy. He’d only stopped wearing it in the last year. Something had felt off about keeping it on–like a widower still wearing his wedding band. But it also felt wrong to leave his tower without it. It felt like a part of his identity. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he said to himself in the mirror before turning from it and striding out of his bedroom. 

…He returned not two seconds later and slipped the earring into his left ear. Damn it all. He couldn’t help what he was. A sentimental, heartbroken fool.

On his way out the door, he grabbed a hooded cloak and draped it over his shoulders. He lifted the hood, obscuring his face in shadow, hoping it would be enough to keep him from having to interact with anyone who wasn’t Tara of his mother. He considered, for a moment, casting an invisibility charm on himself…alas the concentration such a thing would require left him feeling exhausted at the thought of it. The cloak had worked for rogues and criminals for centuries. Suely it could work for him as well. 

Finally, he left the safety and control his tower afforded him and walked out into the cold, Waterdhavian night. 

A Cheeky Upstart

“Okay Elinna. Just…ring the doorbell. You’ve traveled all the way here. So just ring it,” a young woman told herself as she stood outside the wrought iron gates. “You sailed all the way from the Moonshae Islands, left every book behind, dealt with some of the worst sea sickness in all of the realms just to be here.”

Despite telling herself this, she had to shake out some of the numbness in her fingers from clenching her fists too tight. Or maybe it was just the nip in the air from the coastal evening. She couldn’t truly be sure. 

As she stood there, her green eyes caught a streak of movement in the sky–some winged creature departing from a high window of the tower. She couldn’t quite make out what it was. Maybe a gargoyle? Or a mephit? An imp?

Something churned in her gut at the thought of Gale of Waterdeep cavorting with the infernal. Perhaps that was why no one had seen him in such a long time–maybe he’d made a pact with a devil and lost some of his humanity in the exchange. Maybe she ought to just turn on her shabby heels and book passage back home. 

“You can’t do that, Elinna,” she told herself. “You already spent everything you have just to get here. You’re all in, now.”

But that was precisely why she couldn’t bring herself to tug on the chain to ring the doorbell. Who was she to show up at the door of one of the best wizards–a proper prodigy of composing strings of the weave; the apprentice of the famous Elminster, no less?

Well she knew the answer to that. 

She was desperate. That’s what she was. 

She’d been left at the Scribe’s Nest by her mother with nothing but a note and an old locket she couldn’t get open; drow craftsmanship. The note detailed her lineage as a half-drow, but begged the clerics of the temple to take her in and raise her. According to the note left in her swaddle, Elinna would be shunned and excluded by because of her impure blood. 

A shame for both her mother and Elinna herself that the Scribe’s Nest had simply moved into an old Temple of Ilmater. The inhabitants inside were nothing but glorified librarians. They may have had access to all of the books in the world, but not a single one of her guardians actually knew how to use the information inside. 

No. Instead, they tried to raise her to love cataloging the written word, but deny herself the joy of actually using anything she learned from the old dusty tomes in the temple. Even when she’d shown a natural knack for small magics, she had been discouraged from using them, leaving her with no choice but to practice in the wee hours of the night. 

She knew she hadn’t much to use as a benchmark for her growth as a burgeoning young wizard, but she thought for all of the effort she’d put in she made a half-decent self-taught magician. All she needed was some proper tutelage to become something truly magnificent. Something worthy of the tales of great wizards that she’d read. 

Which brought her here–to the first and only plan she had to seek out that higher learning. And now her future hung in the balance of whether or not her knock at the door–or rather the ring of the doorbell–would be answered. 

Her heart pounded in her chest, at her temples. He leather fingerless gloves squeaked as she flexed and clenched her fists. 

“Gah!” she cried, turning away from the gate, pacing across the narrow cobbled street, then pacing right back. She gasped in a few preparatory breaths and hopped from one soft-soled foot to the other. “Just do it, just DO it, Elinna. Just–”

The door of the tower opened, it’s underutilized hinges creaking as the man opening the door grunted. 

“Damnable–old door–why did I make you out of iron,” grumbled the voice. 

Elinna went entirely still, eyes going wide. 

Perhaps it was habit from how many times she’d had to sneak tomes away from the restricted areas of the Scribe’s Nest, but she ducked behind the stone columns holding up the wrought iron gate and watched as the cloaked figure made his way to the gate and slipped outside of it with a wave of his hand. 

She remained hidden as he looked down the road in her direction, his eyes looking too distantly to catch her small frame tucked away in the dark. 

She’d seen sketches of the Gale Dekarios before, but she couldn’t help but feel they did him no justice. The etchings seemed to have emphasized the wizened qualities of his features; the lines around his eyes, the creases around his lips. They made him look sagely and–well–old. 

But the real man, the one now standing in the flesh just a few feet from her was something different entirely. 

He showed signs of age, of course. He was a middle-aged man, after all. But his lips were fuller, his beard a little more tidy, and his eyes…

His eyes were what made him look the most youthful. There was a sort of shimmer to them that she couldn’t quite describe, a sort of weight to his brow that made him look as if he was always curious, always observing.

She watched as he pulled his cloak a little tighter around him and turned the opposite direction, walking down the narrow street. 

Wait, she thought. What am I doing?!

She hesitated for only one more moment before quickly hurrying after him. She searched her mind for all of the speeches she’d practiced for this introduction, but she was left wanting. She should have written it down so that she wouldn’t forget–or would it have been even more strange for read her introduction off the pages of a notebook? 

It was all strange, of course; a girl crossing the ocean to show up on the doorstep of a stranger several years her senior. Asking for an apprenticeship when she hadn’t so much as sent him a letter of introduction or even had anything to offer in exchange except for chores, errands and meal preparations. Seeking tutelage from one of the most accomplished young wizards when she was still struggling with even the most basic of incantations…

But what else could she do? 

The life of a Scribe Nest Archiver was not a luxurious one. She’d had to sneak out of the old Nest to sing songs at the local tavern to scrape what little money she could together to book passage to even get here. 

Blackstaff wasn’t exactly inexpensive–and even if it was, she couldn’t hope to get in. Not with how poorly she handled the weave. 

But Gale–she had read transcripts of his lectures, heard tales of how magnanimous and warm he could be. She even once met one of his friends at the tavern who was visiting the islands for this or that purpose–she couldn’t remember. She only remembered the tales of his kindness and generosity. Of his gentleman’s nature. 

He seemed like her only real chance at ever mastering this art that sang to her like a harpy at roost in the bay.

God’s he was walking fast though. Perhaps it was just because she was so short in comparison to him, but she was almost having to run to catch up to him. 

“E-excuse me,” she finally said when she was within earshot.

She saw the briefest glance back at her, the quickest flash of a startled expression, before he focused forward and quickened his pace.  

“No, thank you,” Dekarios replied. “I’ve already a subscription to the Waterdhavian times.”

“Uhm, no–that’s not–” she stammered. “Wait, could you please stop walking so fast!”

“I’m in a dreadful hurry, good night to you,” he said dismissively, walking even faster as he pulled his cloak further to guard his face. 

“Mr. Dekarios! I’ve come here to talk to you!” She shouted, a little crack of desperation coming out with it. “Mr. Dekarios I–”

He whirled on her, suddenly encroaching into her space. He was so quick that she almost stumbled backward and fell. Before she could, though, he seized her arm with one strong hand, stablizing her quickly before clasping his other hand over her mouth.

She stared up at him with wide eyes, bright irises flicking around his face as if she were prey caught in his snare.

“Shhhh,” he hissed before looking around, as if to see if anyone heard her. “Mystra’s Elbow, you’d think my reputation as a newly initiated recluse would have gotten around by now.”

Elinna swallowed dryly, critically aware of the feeling of his calloused fingertips on the soft swells of her freckled cheeks. She blinked up at him, unsure what to do. His hand felt warm through the roughspun, puffed sleeves of her Scribe’s Nest garments.  Her feet were sort of turned in awkwardly after he’s caught her mid fall. 

She wondered if it would have looked like she was being accosted by a thief to a wandering bystander. She supposed it didn’t matter because no one else was here. She knew she should have been afraid. That she was a young woman alone with an older man; that he’d rendered her silent and could easily do much worse. But she also knew that was likely the experiences at the tavern thinking for her. 

Gale was supposed to be a gentleman. That’s what she’d always heard. And…

And his hands smelled like…like tea and old parchment and sage. There was a somewhat sharp quality to the fragrance–perhaps a suspension alchemized in alcohol of some sort. He must have made it himself. 

“Now. This behavior of mine, admittedly, is abhorrent for a gentleman with a young lady. I will have to ask you to forgive my bad manners and to give me the grace of your understanding because I simply did not want to be greeted by anyone aside from my mother and my cat. Now. I am going to take my hand away from your mouth; apologies again for the rough handling. But I’m going to then need you to let me walk away. And perhaps most importantly, I need you to leave me alone,” Gale said quietly. “Do we have an accord?”

Elinna’s pale ginger brow furrowed and he tutted quietly. 

“No, no. No crinkles of the brow, no narrowing of the eyes, miss,” he scolded. “It is by mere coincidence you’ve even caught me out of my tower. By all accounts this is an anomaly of the highest order and therefore…uhm…does not count. You should just forget this ever happened. In fact, I could help you do so if you like!”

Doesn’t count? What kind of logic–that was school-boy logic! And what did he mean help her forget?! She jerked her arm away from him and, perhaps in a moment of panic he tightened his grip.

“Alright, alright! I’m going to let you go–just– remember our deal, please,” he said, releasing her arm.

He winced slightly as he hesitated to remove his other hand from her mouth. She thought he had the same expression one might have if they were about to remove a cork from a vial of smelling salts.

He released his other hand, drawing it away from her mouth. 

“Mr. Dekarios, I’ve come to ask you to take me on as an apprentice,” Elinna blurted out. “I know you have never met me, and that you have no notion of my ability or skill. And that showing up outside of a strangers house and asking them for a place to live–”

“I’m sorry, a place to live?” He interjected with an incredulous tone

“--and a comprehensive education in the arcane arts–” she continued.

“I assure you I do not have the time, and it certainly wouldn’t be proper for an older man to bring a young woman into his home to–” he interjected again. 

“ But I have nowhere else to turn and…And I’m afraid I can’t take no for an answer.”

His brows shot up as she finally stopped speaking. She didn’t know what to make of that expression, nor the silence that followed. Elinna could feel her face beginning to warm and she knew from  that her face was already starting to color with her own nerves. It felt the same way it did when a tavern patron made a bawdy joke at her expense–or about her body. 

The silence was the most unbearable part, though. So she started to fill it, her face getting warmer by the moment.

“You’re silent,” she said. “Uh–right. Names. I’m Elinna Inklyn. I hail from the Moonshae Islands. I grew up under the care of the Scribe’s Nest Archivists and–”

“Elinna. Elinna,” he said, his tone almost pitying. “I’m going to stop you right there.”

She felt her heart sink as he pinched the bridge of his nose and tilted his head back, looking toward the sky. “Look, Miss Inklyn. I’m sorry that you came all this way, but. I am afraid you must take no as an answer. I cannot take on an apprentice, even if I wanted to.” He winced and almost half shrugged. “And frankly, I really do not want to. Even if I could do it, I wouldn’t want to do it.”

“But–if you’d let me explain–” she protested. 

“No–no buts. Again, I am dreadfully sorry for the trouble you went through to get here. But…considering that you sought me out and addressed me by name, you must know who I am.” he said. 

“Yes,” she answered. 

“So, then you know that I am particularly gifted with manipulating the weave,” he said. “That’s why you’ve sought me out.”

“Yes,” she said yet again. “Well part of the reason but also because–”

“So, then I’m sure you could understand why I find the inadequacies of unskilled wizards irksome, correct? That if I were to take on an apprentice, it would be someone with a certain level of innate talent?”

Her brow furrowed again and she inhaled to speak, but before another word could fall out of her mouth a huge boom of sound tore out from the sky above them. She clapped her gloved hands over her ears and yelped.

“What was that?” she shouted. 

The two looked up at the source of the sound only to see the sky split open like it’d been torn by a dull blade. Out of the opening flew a giant aircraft with writhing tentacles slicing through the air as if it were a squid traversing deep sea waters. The two wizards–one novice and one adept–balked at the appearance of the spelljammer, the size of it practically the size of Gale’s tower if you laid it on its side.

“A nautiloid?” They both said at the same time. 

They met eyes briefly before Gale gritted his teeth and grasped onto her arm, almost flinging her away from him

“Get out of here, Elinna. And whatever you do don’t let the tentacles touch you,” he shouted. 

She stumbled, almost falling on her face, looking back at him. 

“What about you?!” she cried. 

“I’m a wizard,” he said before turning and casting a bolts of ice at two of the tentacles that swatted out toward them. 

“It’s a spelljammer!”

“I’m a very, very good wizard!” he said. 

Elinna’s sense of self preservation won out over her worry for the man she’d come here to meet. If he thought he could take on a nautiloid, who was she to deny that? She turned and sprinted down the narrow street before dodging down an alleyway in hopes of getting cover from the massive tentacles that now swept down toward the ground like great, giant whips. 

She chanced a single look back to see Gale running just behind her, and the spelljammer that was traveling far too quickly and far too low to the ground for comfort. He followed her down the alleyway, calling ahead. “Not that way! To the east–”

“I don’t know which way east is!” she shouted back. 

“Are you kiddi–Eugh–LEFT,” he said. “LEFT, LEFT! Go LEFT!”

“Alright, I heard you!” she said. “No need to shout!”

“I will shout if I want to, now–Elinna, look out!”

She looked ahead just in time to see a brick wall and slipped on her worn soles as she tried to come to a screeching halt. 

She slammed into the wall, but thankfully not with enough force to knock her out.  She managed to clumsily tumble toward the left, dropping onto her fingertips just a moment before lurching back upright. Gale caught up to her and cast some spell–gust, she assumed– because a strong wind caught in the fabric of her clothes like a breeze in the sails of a galeon and made her feel like she was running on air. 

He fought off another tentacle and she screamed as one almost tagged her, but smashed an old fish barrel to bits instead.

“Keep going. We’ll lose it on the main road,” Gale yelled.  

They spilled out onto a wider street and she immediately regretted listening to the Waterdhavian native. It’d seemed a sound plan at first. But only if the goal of the ship was to find them specifically. When they made it to the street, Elinna realized that was not the drive of the nautiloid at all. 

The main road was chaos. There were carts toppled over and people lying trampled on the ground. People ran and screamed, some of them were swatted by the terrifying power of the tentacles only to vanish into dust before they could make impact with the wall of a building or the floor below them.

Elinna froze in terror, realizing finally that her plight had gone from one of trying to secure a teacher of her own to one of simply trying to survive her first night on the mainland. It suddenly dawned on her that she might actually die here. She might die within moments. 

She couldn’t think. Couldn’t move.

It was a mistake to stop, but she realized it too late. A horse cried out desperately and tore away from the frightening vessel. It tore straight toward her, its eyes wild, his nose gusting tufts of steam into the air like a machine. It pulled a market cart along with it, full of heavy barrels of meat and wine. She braced herself, squeezing her eyes shut and thinking about the magic she’d read about. Misty step–misty step, what was the incantation for misty step?

“I-Inveniam Viam!!” she shouted, the words sailing on waves of the weave and almost…echoing. There was the sweet taste of something on her tongue–the after effect of using the weave if her reading was any indication. She’d only tasted that once or twice before, but chasing that sweet, comforting experience was what brought her here. It’s what made her so desperately want to learn how to wield this magic.

When she opened her eyes, the horse was gone.

Unfortunately for her, so was the ground beneath her feet. 

She’d somehow teleported into midair and, as if the weave was just as shocked as she was, she’d wound up suspended there for just the briefest moment, cradled by the strands of the weave she’d managed to manipulate. Seconds felt like minutes as he copper hair floate away from her face as she experienced true weightlessness for just moments. Then she felt the sickening churn in her stomach as she started to fall. 

The floor just far enough to be lethal but not far enough to give her adequate time to figure out another spell. Her mind went blank with terror. In a moment of desperation, she found Gale in the crowd, a stationary man in a sea of fleeing people. 

He looked at her in abject horror as she dropped like a dagger out of the sky. He looked utterly, woefully helpless.

She screamed, wrapping her arms around her as if she could brace her own fall, as if holding herself would hold her together.

Then, just as she was about to splat on the cobblestones into a puddle of bone and blood, a searing heat bloomed from the center of her back. She screamed again as she felt herself dissolve from the inside out, her innards liquifying into a primordial soup. 

Her body went miserably hot, and then impossibly cold. No. Not cold–she realized–absent. She was vanishing from the center of her body. She watched in uncomprehending horror as her middle vanished, watched as her body evaporated like steam off a teacup. 

Her guttural scream sounded from her and died in the air. 

The last thing she saw before her vision went black was Gale still staring at her as he too succumbed to the nautiloid’s attack.

#bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 headcanons #bg3 fanart #bf3 fanfic #bg3 gale #bg3 gale dekarios #gale x tav #galetav fic #gale au #bg3 au #bg3 wizard #professor gale #recluse gale #gale of water deep #gale of waterdeep #writeblr #my writing #authors #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios

[atths--twice]

Germs and All

After attending a conference, Scully falls ill. Not wanting to be alone, and missing Mulder, she heads to his apartment.

I've been fighting through a cold the past few days. As a result, I've had extra time on my hands as I've been resting. Because of this, my mind wanders to MSR more than usual. I love stories where they take care of each other and so, I've written this little fic.

Hope you enjoy. 💓

Scully woke up, her mouth dry and nose stuffy. Groaning, she rolled over and glanced at the alarm clock before closing her eyes in the gray light. Opening her eyes again, she looked back at the clock as she drew in a breath. 

11:30. 

It was eleven thirty? 

Sitting up, she looked around the room and then picked up her watch to be sure the time was correct. 

11:30. 

“Oh, God,” she whined softly as she fell back onto the pillows, sniffling deeply. “How is it so late?” 

Rain hit the windows and she sighed as she sat up again and laid her watch back beside her half drunk cup of tea. Pushing herself up, she groaned again, her body aching. 

Stumbling to the bathroom, she used the toilet, washed her hands and brushed her teeth. Staring at her reflection, she sighed and made a face before turning off the light and leaving the room. 

Shivering, she grabbed the comforter off of the bed and wrapped it around herself as she groaned again and opened the bedroom door. 

Pausing just past the doorway, she looked to her right and saw Mulder sitting on his couch, smiling at her. 

“Hello,” he said and she frowned with another groan. “I take it you’re not feeling better.” 

“It’s eleven thirty,” she complained and he nodded, glancing at his watch. 

“Nearly quarter till twelve now,” he said and she whined. 

“Why did you let me sleep so long?” she asked, kicking the comforter back from her feet as she walked over to him. 

“Let you?” he asked with a chuckle, as she sat on the end of the couch with a huff and then laid down, her head resting against his thigh. 

“I’m tired,” she complained, letting out a deep breath. “And my nose is stuffy.”

“I know,” he said, his fingers rubbing her head and running through her hair. “Well, about the stuffy nose anyway.” 

“I slept all night. How am I still tired?” she whined and he chuckled again. 

“You have a cold, Scully.” 

“Mmmm,” she moaned with a frown. “This is all Skinner’s fault. I didn’t want to go to that stupid conference. He made me.” 

“Hmm,” Mulder hummed, his fingers rubbing her neck. 

“That feels good,” she whispered, her eyes closing. 

“Skinner wasn’t sick,” he mused and she sighed heavily. 

“No. But someone there was and I got it from them. You didn’t go, so you’re fine.” 

“I won’t be in a couple of days, seeing as you brought all the germs with you. This place is ground zero now. The bedroom in particular is highly contaminated.” 

“I know. I should’ve gone home,” she admitted with a nod. “I just…” 

“I was just teasing,” he said, his thumb pressing firmer into her neck and causing her to moan. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Even though I’ve…” She sniffled deeply and let out a deep breath. “God. Even though I’ve brought the plague upon you?” 

“It’s just a cold,” he said, laughing softly. 

“Feels worse.” 

“You say that every time you’re sick.” 

“Because it does. It always does,” she whined, breathing through her mouth as her nose had become far too stuffy. 

“I’ll get you some medicine,” he said, scratching her scalp lightly and moving gently from the couch. “You want anything to eat?” She moaned and shook her head. “Tea?” She shook her head again and he chuckled softly. “Okay, just the medicine.” 

She nodded as she burrowed into the comforter, finding a more comfortable position. 

A kiss was pressed to her temple and she smiled. 

“Even full of germs, and wrapped like a mummy, you’re adorable,” he whispered, kissing her again before he left the room. 

She smiled and then coughed, groaning as she shook her head. The comforter was pulled even closer and she took a stuffy breath. 

“Hey,” Mulder said and she opened her eyes. “Here’s the medicine and some water. You need to sit up to take it and the cough syrup.” 

“I hate cough syrup,” she grumbled and he hummed as he helped her sit up. 

“I know,” he said, handing her the syringe in his hand. 

“You like using this, don’t you?” she asked, putting the syringe in her mouth and pressing the plunger, swallowing the medicine quickly. Making a face, she took a sip of the water he offered. 

“I do. I’m glad you gave it to me,” he said, smiling as he handed her two large liquid filled pills. “These should help too.” 

She took them and placed them into her mouth, swallowing them with the rest of the water in the glass. Pouting, she handed the glass back to him and then coughed, turning her head to avoid coughing directly on him. 

“I’ll get you some more water,” he said as she coughed again. She laid back down with a moan, cursing that stupid conference. 

It had been monotonous, uninspiring, and lonely without Mulder with her. And then the last night there, she had felt the telltale signs of a cold brewing as her throat was scratchy when she swallowed. 

Waking up to a stuffy nose and achy body, the flight home had been miserable. Hailing a cab, she had given the driver Mulder’s address, closing her eyes as she rested her head against the window. 

When she had made her way to his door, her suitcase feeling exceptionally heavy and clumsy, she swayed as she knocked twice and waited. 

His happy smile had vanished at the sight of her, concern quickly replacing it. 

“I don’t feel so good,” she had said, pitching forward and falling into his arms. 

“Aw, Scully,” he had whispered, pulling her and her bag inside. 

He had brought her into his room, turned on the shower to warm up, and helped her undress. 

While she had been in the shower, he had changed his sheets, found some clothes for her to wear, and made her some tea. 

When she had dressed in one of his long sleeved shirts and a pair of cuffed sweatpants with the drawstring pulled as far as it could go, he had sat her down on his bed and blown her hair dry as she moaned repeatedly, her eyes closed. 

When he had finished, he brushed her hair and kissed her on the forehead. 

“Why don’t you lay down and I’ll go get you some medicine?” he had asked and she had nodded. “Come on, come and lay down.” 

He had helped her up and led her to the other side of the bed, pulling back the covers and then tucking her in once she had laid down, her head pounding. 

“I’ll be back soon. Rest.” He had kissed her head twice, ran a hand down her side, and whispered goodbye as he left. 

He had woken her to take some medicine, sitting with her until she had fallen back to sleep, stroking her hair as he spoke quietly about his last couple of days without her. 

She had woken throughout the night, his arm around her waist or fingers locked with her own, her nose stuffy and head still aching. 

“Hey,” he said softly and she opened her eyes, looking up at him. “Do you want some more water? Luckily, I found a bendy straw so now you don’t have to sit up.” 

“Hmm,” she hummed, nodding slightly. “I’ll have a little bit. Thank you.” He sat on the coffee table and held the glass and straw for her as she took a few sips. 

“Feeling any better at all?” he asked and she sighed as she pulled back from the glass of water. 

“Not at the moment,” she said, closing her eyes and sighing again. 

“Well, hopefully that medicine will help soon. I brought over another box of tissues and a paper bag for the used ones. Do you need anything else?” 

“No, not right now. Thank you,” she said, attempting to breathe through her nose and giving up to take a deep breath through her mouth. “I’m just so tired.” 

“Rest, Scully,” he said, kissing her temple again, the glass of water set on the coffee table. 

And she did, dozing in and out as he sat on the couch beside her, his fingers in her hair or resting on her shoulder. She heard baseball being announced, the crack of a bat, and organ music playing. Then she heard the dialogue of a movie as she turned over and sighed, the comforter tucked around her when she did. 

“Thank you,” she breathed and he hummed as his fingers rubbed her scalp again and she fell back to sleep. 

Her bladder woke her and she moaned as she stirred, extricating herself from her comforter cocoon. 

“I ordered some food,” Mulder said as she stretched and rolled her neck. “Matzo ball and chicken noodle soup. Waiting for you, whenever you’re ready.”

“That sounds good,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Not sure how much I’ll be able to eat.” 

“I know. But you haven’t eaten anything all day. You need something.” 

“Okay. I’ll be out in a few minutes.” 

When she came out of the bedroom, she was wearing one of his hoodies, as she had lost the warmth of the comforter. She had also put on a pair of his thick socks and pulled her hair back into a small ponytail. Yawning, she padded to the dining room and sat down. 

A small bowl of matzo ball soup had been placed at her spot, the spoon resting inside of it. She smiled at the sight of the cut up matzo ball, making it easier to eat. Glancing up, she watched him walk in with his own bowl of soup and a plate of sliced bread. 

“You cut my matzo ball,” she said with a sniffle as she reached for her spoon. 

“Yeah, I did,” he said, setting his stuff down and sitting beside her. “Easier and quicker for you to eat.” 

“Thank you,” she said, filling her spoon with broth and a piece of matzo. 

They sat in silence as they ate, Scully taking her time to eat as much of the soup as she could. 

“I can’t taste any of this,” she said, shaking her head, leaving her spoon down in the bowl. “Not one bit, but I’m sure it’s really good.” 

“It is,” he said and she nodded as she pushed the bowl from in front of her. 

“I’ll take your word for it,” she said, watching him finish his bowl of soup. He smiled at her and she smiled back, suddenly overwhelmed with affection for him. “I love you.” 

He stopped eating and stared at her, his smile growing. 

“I know I’ve told you before, but I just wanted to say it again,” she said, sniffing and letting out a deep breath. 

He set his spoon in his bowl and made to move towards her, his hands reaching out. 

“No,” she said, putting up a hand. “Contagious, remember?” 

“Ground zero, remember?” he asked, his hands now cradling her face as he smiled. “The damage has been done. Therefore, a kiss on the lips won’t cause any harm.” 

“Hmm,” she hummed, closing her eyes as his lips met hers. 

He kissed her gently, his thumbs slowly rubbing against her cheeks as she hummed again. Needing air, she pulled back slightly and drew in a breath, before his lips were on hers again.  

“I love you too,” he whispered, kissing her one more time. Smiling as he pulled back, his thumbs stroking along her cheeks. “Germs and all.” 

“Ha ha,” she said, opening her eyes and looking at him. “Ugh. I think I need to lay down.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed, moving his hands from her face. “Let me clean this up and get you some more medicine. Then bed.” 

She waited at the table for him as he quickly cleaned up. More cough syrup and pills were brought to her along with a glass of ice water. She took it all with only minimal complaints, thanking him with a nod. 

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed.” 

He led her through the apartment, turning the lights off behind them. He grabbed the comforter and followed her into his room. 

She went into the bathroom, used the toilet, washed her hands, and brushed her teeth. 

Mulder had put the comforter back on the bed and pulled back the covers on her side once again. Waiting while she laid down, he tucked her in and kissed her head. 

“Be right back,” he said and she hummed as she closed her eyes. 

When he finally laid down, she was nearly asleep, but she opened her eyes to look at him and give him a small smile. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she whispered, closing her eyes as she reached for his hand. 

“That’s why you came here, isn’t it?” he asked softly, kissing her knuckles. “Knowing you were ill? Wanting to be cared for?” 

“Yes and no,” she said, moving closer to him. 

“How’s that?” he asked and she opened her eyes again.  

“I missed you. I wanted to see you,” she said, her eyes rolling back as she shut them again. “I didn’t plan on being sick. I just missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” he whispered, pulling her close. “I’m glad you came over.” 

“Germs and all?” she asked, her words slightly slurred. 

“Yes. Germs and all,” he assured her, kissing her forehead and whispering his love for her as she fell asleep, held safely in his arms. 

#the x files #xf fanfic #msr #sickfic #taking care of your partner #common cold #conference away #sleeping late #Sleeping on the couch #tired and achy #medication #chicken soup #matzo ball soup #season 7 #established relationship #comfort food #forehead kisses #gentle kisses #sleeping together

[doumadono]

Hiii... Emergency Request... please?

As you may know (of course you do!) Soon I am going to hospital.

It really stress me out because it's first time something like this will be done to me. Sure it's silly but I get scared easily and overthink stuff A LOT LOT! I am basically sitting with my tea and shaking...

So... just for some comfort I'd like to ask for a fic with Aizawa. Just him comforting his Kitten after she ended up in hospital because she got injured during mission.

Dziękuję i pozdrawiam 🐺💎

A/N: Well, you're in the right place for some virtual support, and I've got just the prescription for those pre-hospital jitters: a healthy dose of positivity and a side of confidence! Hospitals might seem daunting, but you've got this. Sip that tea, take some deep breaths, and remember, you're stronger than you think 💪✨ Proszę i pozdrawiam (Arturowym stylem)

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

The sterile white walls of the hospital room seemed to close in on you as you lay in the uncomfortable hospital bed. It was your first time ending at the hospital like this, and your anxiety was in overdrive. You lay on the sterile sheets, bandaged and bruised, the mission's aftermath leaving you battered and aching. You longed for the warmth and comfort of Shota Aizawa, your boyfriend, and mentor.

As if on cue, the door creaked open, and Aizawa, with his signature disheveled hair and tired eyes, stepped inside. He didn't say a word, but his presence alone was a soothing balm to your battered soul.

You managed a weak smile, and Aizawa returned it with a soft, tired one of his own. He moved to sit in the chair beside your bed, his gaze never leaving you. "Hey, kitten," he finally said, his voice low and soothing. "You gave us all quite a scare."

You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "I'm sorry, Shota."

His hand reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. "Don't apologize. These things happen in our line of work."

You nodded, wincing slightly at the pain.

Aizawa's quirk allowed him to erase the quirks of others, but it couldn't erase the pain of your injuries. He seemed to understand and leaned closer, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Rest up," he said, his tone firm yet gentle. "You know," he continued, "I've been injured in the field plenty of times. It's not unusual for heroes. But it's essential to take these moments to heal properly. That's how we come back stronger."

You nodded again, your eyelids growing heavy. But you couldn't resist reaching out to catch Aizawa's hand in yours. His hand was calloused and strong, a stark contrast to his usual aloof demeanor. "Stay with me," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. You looked at him again, your anxiety still lingering but now accompanied by a sense of readiness. "Thank you, Shota, for coming… I don't know what I would do without you…"

He smiled, that rare warmth in his eyes again. "You won't have to find out, because I'm here for you, always." Aizawa squeezed your hand in response. "And I'm not going anywhere, kitten."

And true to his word, Aizawa stayed by your side, watching over you with unwavering dedication. He didn't need to say much; his presence and the warmth of his hand in yours said it all. You closed your eyes, feeling the exhaustion of the mission finally catch up with you.

As you drifted into slumber, you felt Aizawa's fingers gently brushing your hair, a gesture filled with love and tenderness. In that moment, you knew that no matter how dangerous their hero work could be, you were safe and loved in the arms of the man who had captured your heart.

Aizawa remained vigilant throughout the night, a silent guardian, his presence a testament to his unwavering care and affection. The beeping heart monitor played a soothing lullaby, and as you slept, you couldn't help but smile, knowing that you were exactly where you belonged—in the arms of your beloved Aizawa.

#emergency request #divider by cafekitsune #aizawa shouta #bnha aizawa #shoto aizawa #aizawa sensei #aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x female reader #aizawa bnha #aizawa fluff #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shota x you #aizawa fanfiction #bnha x fem!reader #mha x reader #shota aizawa #mha aizawa #anime fic #mha fluff #bnha fluff

[maritiiny]

minsung fanfic recommendations

here is my current favourite fics/one shots (call it one shots but they are longer than some fics :')

all i want to ask is please thoughtfully read tags until you start reading them. and ALL of them has smut in it so keep it in mind.

Shotgunning by Keros - sexual tension is insane! As a picky reader if there is no chemistry between characters it's a big no for me, so I loved every chapter of it!

Skaterboy by Keros - same author same masterpiece! our Sungie has humiliation kink and loves to be ordered but from only certain people >_< also what i want to add is that I am huge fan of possessive tops and Keros (author) fed me well in both fics.

Baby, day and night by Cloudrages - where soft boy Minho... okay, I'm lying, so did Minho. (not) very straight Jisung met cute cat enthusiast boy he thought he could top, but the world is full of surprises. so much of teasing and boys in skirts ^^

Double trouble by Cloudrages - okay, this one is kinda fucked up and i think it's perfect Halloween fic! so deal is that Jisung wakes up and instead of one he has TWO minhos. both are completely same same in everything (for example in being possessive over sungie) so which one gets jisung? read and find out *disappears mysteriously*

Rent-a-boyfriend by hyunievrse and vmnesie - absolute favorite! rent a boyfriend to get over your very much an as*hole ex boyfriend is full of fun and surprises (and little angst too.. i mean it is little, TRUST ME. i'm just too sensitive and cryed with actual tears a little but happy ending yeey!)

Cuddle party! by bbydollsvngie - if you ever felt so single read this and you will feel 100x times more single :') bbg sungie with greek god like bf minho :') i'm not crying in single, you are. JUST READ!

With you I would do it all again by Cuddlyms - I usually do not read top jisung but that one had perfect themes i could not so i recommend it even if bottom minho isn't your cup of tea! ex to lovers trope.

MFA (Most Fuckable Ass) by hyunnies - ok... so... ahem.. longs story short jisung with daddy kink and his very supportive bestie felix! MIND THE TAGS PLEASE (loved this story, really)

Feral for you by Intricate6 - I think this is the first a/b/o one in this list shorter than others but not any less bad!

Bones by chaosctrl (and_knuckles) - LAST BUT NOT LEAST! as warning says a lot of talk about bones and teeth! spare me i'm so tired (and i am not even creative) of giving introductions. they are good, read!

Happy reading! ><

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #fanfic recommendation #minsung #minsung fanfic #minsung fanfic recommendation #ao3 #ao3 fanfic

[tempobrucera]

Linger

Pairing: Thomas x Reader Wordcount: 2.2k Summary: 5 times you want to ask Thomas to stay the night but don’t + 1 time Thomas stays Warnings: Fluff, some yearning - I guess A/N: Short and sweet (short isn’t what I am known for and the other ones are getting much longer again) and probably not really good but I need to get myself back to writing. So many ideas are still waiting for me, next ones are gonna be another Thomas (smut) one and some more poly fics.

Add yourself to my taglist.  / Masterlist

.#####.

One

You can’t really remember when you thought about it the first time. About Thomas staying the night. Thomas in your bed, next to you, keeping you warm. The first time you thought about asking him to stay you can remember however. 

After everyone already left Thomas decided to stay.

“I could have another drink,” he had smiled, “And another cigarette.”

And he stayed for another cigarette and drink right at your kitchen window. Lit cigarette in one hand, drink in the other. Your eyes followed his movements, how he moved the cigarette to his lips. How he inhaled, then exhaled. 

Internally you sighed, aware of your staring. 

First there was Thomas, who leaned outside the window, looking up at the sky with a frown. Just before a raindrop hit your own face. It started to rain down heavily in a few seconds. Thomas flicked the cigarette out of the window before closing it.

“Do you have an umbrella for me?”

You did just shake your head, you don’t have one. You gave it to a friend a while ago and have not seen it since. There was another sigh from Thomas. 

That’s the first time you thought about asking him to stay the night. The image how you cuddle close, watch something silly before falling asleep, how you could touch him without worry. All the things you’re too afraid to ask for, you weren’t quite sure what he would think about it, if he would be surprised, confused, maybe even uncomfortable.

“Time to get wet then.” 

Thomas smiled at you before pulling you into a hug for a bit longer than usual.

Two

The next time it happens is about a month later. Thomas being home from tour for a few days and coming around when some friends are over for dinner. He brings a bottle of white wine. 

It’s a normal night, laughter, drinks, Thomas who compliments your pasta in front everyone, spaghetti still in his mouth. It has you blushing. 

You got closer over the last weeks. You feel like you are becoming a friend to him. But with that your longing also intensifies. A burning little flame somewhere close to your heart. You’re surprised that no one has called you out about it by now. Sometimes you can’t take your eyes off him, when he laughs or when he’s silly and cute. When he pouts at Vic. When he plays guitar which someone just put into his arms in a bar. Someone should have noticed by now but even Thomas himself seems to be oblivious to it. Sometimes he just looks back at you - and smiles.

Once again he stays behind again when everyone leaves. Even helps you clean dishes, hums some melody next to you. He looks tired, there are dark circles under his eyes. You want to brew him a cup of tea, wrap him into a blanket and wait until he falls asleep. But there’s that fear of him looking at you out of big eyes and to scare him away. That he could think that you’re too clingy. The fear of the awkwardness the question could bring.

He laughs about a stupid joke you tell him when you’re back in the living room. He looks good sprawling his long limbs all over your sofa and he doesn’t look like he’s planning on leaving soon. It’s already two o’clock in the morning. And for the first time you’re talking about something that goes deeper, that feels like a connection. 

You want to ask him to stay when he hugs you goodbye two hours later. But you don’t. And Thomas leaves, you can feel the brush of his lips against your cheek.

Three

The third time has you laughing and Thomas muttering under his breath. Thomas just came back inside from smoking on your balcony. 

“What did you do?” You laugh.

He’s only in one shoe - the other one missing.

“Fell through the railing when I stretched my legs.” 

“You don’t want to get it back?”

“And then some weirdo grabbed it and ran away.”

You snort. 

“For real?”

“For real.”

He sits down next to you and puts his head on your shoulder. He started to be closer to you, also on a physical level. It makes your cheeks heat up and sets a colony of insects free in your chest. Everytime his fingertips are brushing your skin, everytime he hugs you close, when he whispers something against your shoulder and you can feel his breath. 

“I guess, you don’t have a pair to spare in my size?” He laughs and gets you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“No,” you laugh as well. But you could stay here. At least until the morning and someone could fetch you a pair, you think. But all you say is: “Sorry.”

“Looks like I’m gonna walk home barefoot then.”

Four

Another night, another night you want to ask Thomas to stay. 

It’s the last night of Sanremo. Vic is lounging on your couch with a drink in hand while Ethan and Thomas are sitting on the floor, Thomas has his head in Ethan’s lap until Vic throws a pillow at his head.

“You're going to be the next Damiano?” She laughs at him. 

Damiano left an hour ago, his social battery running low. Vic rolled her eyes and made fun of him not helping the general situation until Ethan told her off and Damiano decided to flee out of your home. Now she’s throwing another pillow against Thomas' head. He looks up at her grumpily and the next cushion hits him square in the face. Ethan catches the next one while Thomas scrambles up from the floor, takes his drink and ends half on top of you not even a second later. 

You can see Ethan and Vic look at each other but they don’t comment. Thomas only cuddles closer and you brush your fingers through his hair, scratch his scalp. He sleeps through Vic jumping on the sofa, Ethan who moved up to sit next her telling her to fuck off when she jumps on his thighs and both yelling at the screen in Italian. He only wakes up when you whisper into his ear.

“Who won?” He yawns.

There’s no time to answer him as Vic already screams Ice Cream time and Ethan tries to shush her.

“You’re like a five year old on a sugar high already,” Thomas mumbles. Somehow Ethan still trudges to your freezer and hands out cold sweetness to each of you.

Thomas feels like dead weight on your legs when Vic and Ethan go to get their jackets and shoes. Ethan comes back with Thomas’ stuff which he dumps on Vic when he sees that Thomas doesn’t move.

“Thomas, c’mon.” Ethan mutters. “Or do I have to carry you out of here?”

You want to say that he can stay. In your lap, just like he is. Half asleep but Ethan and Victoria are both looking at you and everything you want to say dies somewhere in your throat. 

Thomas stretches his arms out to Ethan who picks him up with a sigh.

“Can some of you idiots please open the door for me and the bigger idiot in my arms?”

Five 

It’s already half a year since the thought crossed your mind the first time. 

They just came off stage and Thomas hugs you as sweaty as he is. Grinning and twirling you around a little bit. You laugh. The moment ends when Damiano gives Thomas a friendly slap to the shoulder and he lets you down. 

There’s dinner, drinks and dancing when they’re all showered and in their day clothes again. Thomas who chases after you on the sidewalk when you go back to the hotel. Thomas who weasels himself into your room before you can protest, throws himself on your bed - shoes still on, turns on the TV and grabs for the menu that’s on the nightstand.

“We just had a three course meal?”

“That was hours ago,” he looks at you offended, “I’m still growing.”

“Where are you still growing?”

He looks back at you and blushes. You’re sure you’re getting redder than him. Before one of you can say something Thomas buries his nose in the menu and you lock yourself in the bathroom. 

When you come back Thomas is sprawled out on your bed munching on some steak fries. He is completely occupied by the documentary that’s on TV. He only looks at you when you crawl into bed next to him, he gives you a slice of apple cake.

“You said cake is always a good snack,” he says before you can question it.

He’s right, you did say it but that was months ago. 

The point of the night where you can’t keep your eyes open anymore reaches sooner than you want to. Thomas moves next to you, takes the plate out of your hand, covers you up with the blankets. You force yourself to open your eyes and for one silly second you think he’s going to kiss you. He’s only kissing your cheek like he did so many times the last few months. 

“I should leave.”

But he’s still lingering on your bed next to you. As all the times before you want to tell him to stay. You’re sure you’ll feel lonely the second he closes the door behind himself, you would love his company and waking up wouldn’t be such a tragedy when you would wake up next to him. But there’s still the worry to freak him out, that you’re too desperate. 

“Good night.”

You can hear the almost silent click of the doo that announces that he’s gone.

Plus One

It happens again when Vic shows up at your place for a movie night. To your surprise she has Thomas in tow who gives you a small wave and a smile before he bites his lips. 

“Brought a chaperone,” Vic looks at you apologetically, “Damiano said I need to be supervised. No party, no fun.” She rolls her eyes. You’re asking yourself why Thomas of all people has to play the babysitter, it’s not like he’s known for saying no to a party or a wild night out. Maybe sometimes more tamed than her because as he said he loves his bed more than Vic would ever love a guy but still not the person you would have expected to look after her. 

“I thought we were only watching a film and drinking some wine anyways?”

“Great,” Vic says and ushers you into your own flat, “Thomas loves some wine and watching a movie.”

He looks like he wants to slap her and you’re sure he’s communicating to her without words, just with a look, at this moment. You raise an eyebrow but it is ignored.

You don’t think about it anymore when you’re all spread out across the living room. Wine and snacks between you. Thomas ends up with chips crumbs all over his shirt. Vic shakes her head: “Can’t take you anywhere, you’re a pig.”

Thomas just shrugs. 

“At least you’re a good reminder to myself why I shouldn’t go back to men. Your species is horrendous.”

He flips her off. 

Half way through the film they’re having another argument, Vic calling him a disgrace. You’re getting more wine. 

By the end of the film Thomas is asleep on your sofa while Victoria and you are sitting in your armchairs. Without thinking you get a thin blanket to wrap it over him. You blush when Victoria laughs. 

“Was a great evening,” Vic says when she gets up, “but I have to leave.”

When Victoria hugs you goodbye you finally ask: “And … What’s with him?”

“I’m certain he can find the way to the door himself. Or he doesn’t.” She winks. Then she’s gone.

You can’t bring it over yourself to wake him up just to kick him out. Which is why you let him in his peaceful slumber, you press a kiss to his forehead before you go to bed.

You almost scream when you wake up in the middle of the night, someone behind you in your bed. You’re close to a heart attack and the panic sets in.

“Sorry,” Thomas whispers, “Shit, sorry, it’s just me.”

“God, you scared me.”

“That was stupid,” he admits, “Sorry, sorry, that was a stupid idea.”

Only now you realise that Thomas has his arm wrapped around your waist, his face buried on your shoulder. 

“Sorry, I didn’t want to invade your space like this,” he says, “But … Can I stay?”

“I would like that,” you say when you turn in his arms. Thomas aims to kiss your cheek when you move the tiniest bit and his lips land on yours, your hand in his tousled hair.

He looks at you.

“Sorry, sorry,” now it’s your turn to apologise, “Sorry.”

Before you can flee from your own bed, he wraps one of his legs around you and gets you to kiss him again, this time deeper than before. 

“That means …,” he sounds a bit out of breath, “I don’t have to go back to the couch?”

.#####.

END.

.#####.

Taglist:  @writingmaneskin, @oro-e-diamanti, @iamtashaquinn, @teenyweenynightghost, @findaqueenwithoutaking, @foreveryking-thatdied, @findoutwhoyougonnacall, @maneskinbrainrot, @little-moonbeam-666, @ethaneskin, @maneskin-dimensione, @l0standn0tf0und, @butkutee, @gr8rainbowpunk, @maneslut, @maneskintifoso, @weareoddlydrawn, @hiraetheral, @imjustanerdwholikestoread, @cuzimitaliano, @hopelessromantic727, @dating-villain, @maneskinsimp, @till-you-scream-and-cry, @wonderlandishell, @h1ppieth1ngs, @paralianeyes, @livvyysstuff, @que–sera–sera, @romanoffswoman, @lovelyy-moonlight, @crwnnjules, @roisinlove123, @whitewolf-writes, @lizzylynch1, @fugg1977, @maneaterdoll, @imposter-27, @cheese-toastie-11​

#maneskin fanfiction #måneskin #maneskin #thomas raggi #maneskin fluff #maneskin x reader #maneskin x you #maneskin fanfic #maneskin imagine #thomas raggi x you #thomas raggy x reader #thomas raggi x yn

[bakerstreethound]

A New Horizon | sherlock holmes

Summary: It’s the end of the semester and the night before graduating with your Bachelors Degree and you reflect on your journey. Sherlock, on the other hand, is determined to let you know how proud he is of you and your accomplishments. 

Warnings: nothing but fluff and sweet sherlock

Please do NOT claim, repost, copy or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03. This fic is purely self-indulgent and I needed some comfort tonight and I hope you enjoy! Thank you for following me along on this journey!  Comments and reblogs are most appreciated! Graphic is by @firefly-graphics​

The last day of work was agonizing and you want nothing more than to sit down, rest your achy knees and think nothing about the future and what awaits. When you open the door to 221B, Sherlock’s chair is vacant, a long forgotten cup of tea on the endtable next to it along with a well worn book. It was a long boring day for him as well, however, the flat is eerily quite, not at all like the ruckus you usually find yourself surrounded in with him and John bickering or bantering, depending on the mood that day. 

You sigh, leaving your bag on the kitchen table amidst the clutter and saunter down the hall into the bedroom, where you find the door left ajar. From there you notice movement, some part of you afraid it might be an intruder, but Sherlock’s scent envelopes you as you push the door open. You didn’t know what to expect but it certainly wasn’t him wearing a graduation cap – your graduation cap for the matter – along with your honor cords. He looked utterly ridiculous but you can’t deny the amusement, the smile pulling at the corners of your mouth. 

“Boring day? Or did you and John get into an argument?” You lean against the doorframe, your smile morphing into a smirk at his bewildered expressing, but his eyes soften as the look you up and down, taking in your bedgraggled appearance and tired eyes, the yawn you try and fail to stifle. 

“Reminiscing. The outfits are still as horrendous as ever, and these hats are ridiculous!” He grumbles, walking over to wrap you in his arms. You sink into his embrace, wanting to collapse and sleep for the next week. 

“I’m proud of you. You worked so hard” He cups your face in his hands, forehead resting against yours, the tassel tickling your cheek, making you squint. Still, you lean in to him, your hand wrapping around the nape of his neck, breathing in the same air as you gently mess with a curl. Here you felt at peace, as if every worry in the world dissapated with his touch The tassel bobbles as he kisses you deeper, his body pressing into you, the missing piece of your puzzle. 

“That tickles!” 

“What, this?” He chuckles, kissing you softly, the tassel still brushing your cheek. You’d have to admit he looks nice in the odd squareboard hat, can imagine him in his university era, impish smug grin on his face. You didn’t have to try hard to imagine it, for Mrs. Holmes had showed you plenty of young Sherlock to to to his dismay. You thought him handsome, of course, but the mischievous glints in his eye when he was on the brink of cracking a case, or ready to discuss a concept way beyond your expertise filled you with warmth and affection. Deep down inside him, that lonely brilliant boy possed depths of love you couldn’t even fathom, but what he’s given you’ve never taken for granted, cherishing and holding tight to him. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks when he pulls away, lips a hairdsbreath from yours. You’re enraptured, utterly his wanting more, this closeness his gentleness was more than you could ever want.  

You gaze up into his sapphhires, utterly captivating and you swallow. “I was caught up thinking of you, how lucky I am to have you by my side throughout all this. You’re part of this crazy journey and you know this Bachelors Degree was a crazy pursuit of mine and you never doubted me, I just don’t know how a thank you could suffice.”

He kisses you oh so softly, dipping you in his arms and you smile into the kiss, groaning as he deepens it, eyes dark and determined. So you allow yourself to fall, fall into the infinite depths of him and his love, the pride and affection he has bleeding through each kiss bursting into flam and desperation along your lips, causing you to gasp when you break, panting for air. 

“You’re beautiful, intelligent, and mine.” His eyes simmer, full of hope love and adoration, for you are his universe and he’s in awe of you, what you’ve accomplished. 

“Sherlock-” 

He takes off the hat, placing it inside the garment bag hanging on the hook inside your closet. The prospect was daunting in some way, you didn’t want to trip let alone had no idea what to wear - you’d waited three years for this moment. A moment where all the tears you’d cried to the rooftops, pleading to pass an exam, writing until your bones ached in your fingers, your brain insisting it was never good enough. In the course of the next morning it would matter naught. You would be free, tackling the new horizon up ahead, Sherlock by your side ready as ever to help slay the dragons. 

******

#sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes fanfic #bbc sherlock imagine #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock fanfic #bbc sherlock #benedict cumberbatch #sherlock tv #graduation 2023

[tacobellabeanburrito]

Hey, I wanted to know if you had any angst phoenix wright centered fics that you could recommend me

ANON YOU HAVE COME TO THE ABSOLUTE RIGHT PLACE BBG.

(I HEAVILY imprint on Phoenix Wright, so I have a lot of angst fics in my arsenal that center around him)

(Also, I highly recommend looking at my bookmarks, cause there’s ALOT more that I most likely don’t mention here. So uh, yeah)

(ALSO ALSO, idk if you have already but look at my other rec fic lists because a lot of the Phoenix Wright angst fics that I love are on there as well and I don’t wanna double up)

ANYWAY! Here we go! (Some of them don’t have blurbs, others will)

-

“I Might’ve Been A Good Man, Who Loved Someone With All He Had” by SapphireWire: I don’t mind this one too much. It just doesn’t have the headcannons that I personally like. A lot of the times I bookmark fics just so I can go back to them if my mind is ever like “Oh shit, do you remember this fucking baller moment from this fanfic?” And I’m like “Oh shit yeah”. Worth a read, though. There’s also a sequel.

“Turnabout Forgotten” by Nali_li: Alright Anon, so a lot of these fics I don’t really remember much about (cause I have a shit memory) and am just kinda looking through my bookmarks and seeing which ones have definite Phoenix angst in them. This one is about Phoenix who gets amnesia and doesn’t remember anything past the Will Powers case.

“Pressure (Pushing Down On Me)” by ApprenticeofDoyle: A long ass Ace Attorney that is actually really good. It’s not so much my cup of tea because it does ALOT with the Ace Attorney canon and shakes it until some of the plots points are different but it is good.

“These Ties That Bind” by The HomestuckWhovian: OMG I LOVE THIS ONE. An all time favorite. Holds all of my headcannons for Phoenix, I don’t wanna spoil it, you just gotta read it, buddy. It’s very good. It’s a soulmate type fix but also centered around Phoenix’s other relationships (Not just him and Miles). Fully recommend.

“Chains Of The Heart” by NarshTaters: Don’t really remember much about it since I read it a while back, but it goes into detail about Phoenix and his whole complexes while Miles uses the magatama on him. A great fic nonetheless.

“They’ll Never Love You Like I Can” by Josdalynn: Ahhh! I was looking for this one. Glad I found it. It’s about a younger Phoenix (Feenie) going forward in time and showing up at Chief Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth’s office. I like this one a lot.

“Behind Closed Doors” by Stressedtoimpress: I really like this one a lot but I can never go back to it because it has an unhappy ending. But definitely has a lot of Phoenix angst. A lot of Miles angst too. Contains Krisnix.

“To Whom Do I Owe The Pleasure?” by Loreley: OH BABY THERE IS SOMETHING SOOOO GOOD WHEN PEOPLE PUT IN A FANFIC “Phoenix Wright Chooses Death” during his disbarment era as an echo to Miles’ letter. Girlypop this one is good.

“The Best Revenge” by pantswarrior: Ok this one is, mature and for good reason. I’ll let you figure out what happens cause I don’t wanna spoil cause it’s really good but also very dark but also good.

“Hold Me In Your Arms” by AnonymousChicken: A very cute fic. Not too angsty but pretty angsty on the first chapter. It’s narumitsu centered, and features a traumatized Maya.

“Imminent Danger” by ValueTurtle: Ok, so, I don’t really like this one too much. It’s good, but not my thing. But definitely very angsty in the Phoenix department. I won’t spoil it but check it out if you wanna.

“I’m Getting So Tired Of Coughing Out My Lungs” by heiisklchen: Oh, oh this one is good. This one is about Phoenix dealing with an eating disorder.

“Like Glass” by Machina (XMachina): A good Phoenix fic. Short, but good. It’s about Phoenix and his relationships with Miles, Dahlia/Iris and Kristoph. Mostly Miles, though.

“And I’m Mr. Loverman” by LicoriceLovingLoser: We love Ricky Montgomery songs and Phoenix Wright disbarment fics.

“The Eye Of The Beholder” by 3musketears: A nice hurt/comfort fic regarding Phoenix and his body post disbarment.

“Sharp” by silvered: AHHH loved this one. I just reread it when looking for fics for you Anon and I really liked it. Has some Krisnix in it.

“Despite Everything, It’s Still You” by orphan_account (lmao, just search up the name and if you can’t find it tell me)

“So Shut Your Eyes” by pessu (kittiv): Not a Phoenix centric one but I found it while I was looking and I really, really like it.

“I Make Sense Of The Madness (When I Listen To Your Voice) by pychelocs: I like this one a lot.

“Hurt Me, Why Won’t You?” By daiicraa: A really angsty but sweet one.

“Appreciate All Parts Of Me” by Booloodle: SLAY FIC.

“When The Chips Are Down” by rib14

“Avoidance” by JJamescat

“Perpetual Motion” by PhantomWriter

“Goodbye, My Dearests” by tunaricebowl

“Gold, Marble and Burgers” by tunaricebowl

“Hold Onto Me (Cause I’m A Little Unsteady) by samiolioli (Samioli)

“Better Light A Candle Than Curse The Darkness” by daydreamn019

-

Ok anon, that’s about it for Phoenix Wright angst fics. BUTTTT ALSO. Here’s one just for funnzies that I just remembered. It isn’t angst but I come back to it a lot.

“Honey, Honey” by chcolayecoveredkashews: HILARIOUS. We love accidental Sugar Daddy Miles.

UGH AND OKAY. ANOTHER CALL TO ACTION. Doing this just reminded me of the fic but there’s a fic mentioned during the other fic rec list I posted AND I NEED TO KNOW WHAT IT BECAUSE IT’S DRIVING ME BONKERS.

Ok so, plot is that through mystical Magatama fuckery, Miles and Phoenix get trapped in a mindpalace like world where they are married. Their family is trying to get them out of their own heads and ITS ANGSTY AND SOOO GOOD. Has “Perfect” by SideBlog vibes. So if anyone knows this fic. PLEASE SEND IT MY WAY.

Anyway, getting that out of the way, thank you Anon for your question about fics, and good luck reading! (Also, still check out my other fic rec list cause those have ALOT of Phoenix angst and also check out my bookmark list PLEASE I haven’t done justice to all the fics I have in there that I like and that I have forgotten about)

#ace attorney #aa #Phoenix wright ace attorney #miles edgworth #Phoenix wright #Narumitsu #mitsunaru #edgewright #Wrightworth #worthwright #uhhh #kristoph gavin #Krisnix #kirinaru #kriswright #ace attorney fic #ace attorney fanfiction #aa fanfic #aa fanfiction #uhhhh #I think that’s it #maybe #idk #oh wait #aa fic rec #ace attorney fic rec

[smilingangel582]

Yooo I'm still at a loss for the links and I'm sorry guys...I'm such a clutz, hehe~

☆anyway never mind that let's go down a other roller coaster of tickles with genshin impact. I wanted to right for Kaveh but loss inspiration at the moment... so guys pls bear with me I'll be writing for sweet kaveh soon!

Warning spoilers for fontaine version 4.0!

Ps. Are my fics so bad that Lyney still refuses to come to me!!! I want him, so I'll keep on writing till he comes to me! Heck, his C3 sister is waiting too nyaaaahaaa~

Magic is a performance of art with picturesque illusions. Lyney often became overwhelmed by Caeser's joy in magic as he taught him several aspects of it. Indeed, he began to love it as well... especially playing tricks on others' minds as he played on.

It'd often the smaller ones thst excited kids more. Picking mora from their ears, picking flowers out from under his cloak, he could fo ample things just to get the audience happy.

It's usually days when the big magic tricks would begin, most unexpectedly he feels nervous though he had a knack for avoiding troublesome thoughts. Only Lynette read him like a book...

"Lyney!"

The sharp tone made him look up instantly, startled by his loss of awareness as he was sipping tea at his place with the traveller. Freminet was missing as always, being engrossed in diving - perhaps he ought to learn how to relax from him as well.

Ever since the trial, he became anxious about doing grand performances. He did perfect it at practice, but...he was worried if someone would sabotage his show again and create another victim...

Seeing Aether tilt his head in question to ask how he's feeling, Lyney chuckled sheepishly. "Oh dear, sorry to zone out like this... I may have been preoccupied by the fact that Paimon's not tired of floating around"

"Hey, Paimon's floating his similar to you guys walking, you know!"

Seeing her indignant reaction, he thought he had drawn their attention away from him. Still, Lynette didn't even make an attempt to sound accusing as she calmly said, "You're rigid, brother... perhaps you're nervous after all"

"W-what..? Surely you jest... I'm just more concerned about Paimon's logic to floating, " his face darkened as he lowered his head to the side to avoid any misgivings though the opposite just convoluted.

"Hey, you better not mess with Paimon!" Paimon, being Paimon, ignorantly grumbled in her chirpy voice, sounding offended presumably. Still, Aether could sense his offensive tactic being seen through. He might find it more intriguing to see past the crumbling defence he built desperately...

He shook his head now. "Lyney, we're close enough to see through your act..."

"Ah, drats..." he smiled weakly, seeing how his sister and the traveller were onto him. Keeping his tea cup to its original place on the table, he began to reason.

Now his solid defence has a crack...

"Alright, alright, guys... I am human, so I'll admit I am nervous after the water tank incident, " he offered. Now Lynette stated slight concern in her cool tone,"It's not the same trick... so why are you that worried?"

Sighing, he bit his lip, as if he got scolded by a teacher, "Making mistakes, I guess?"

Aether noticed his stiffness. He could tell the young magician must have been traumatised by the death of Cowell. Either way, they came here to cheer him on. He wondered if he could do anything for him... something to perk him up.

"Lyney" Aether began now gesturing to Paimon. "Allow Paimon to massage your shoulders... to make you relax... she's good at that"

Paimon gasped at Aether audacity to make a request unbeknowst to her, "You little! Of course, you put this on Paimon...!"

Regardless, her starry gaze genuinely desired to help, so she began "Alright Lyney let Paimon loosen you up"

Lyney anxiously waved a hand. "Oh n-no need... It's not really necessary... I really don't have stiff shoulders..."

(Cute...)

Aether rolling his eyes said, "Come on Lyney, no more secrets its obvious they are stiff..."

Before Lyney could evade the offer, Paimon was already behind him. "Relaaax, Paimon is an expert masseur. She can make you lose your fears in a snap!" She removed the pegged Cape so easily, and began to descend.

Until he staggered away, immediately stiffened by her gentle fingers reaching for his shoulders.

"D-dont Paimon... its not necessary"

She couldn't even touch him when he slid off from the couch only to stand and face her, Paimon pouted "Awww but can't you trust Paimon?"

"I...uh... It's not t-trust..."

Lynette, seeing the obvious issue and she finally pointed out, "It's not you, Paimon. He's got ticklish shoulders..."

"Lynette!!"

The casual reply made him blush but only to let Paimon's curious eyes widen in wonder. She waves her arms in frantic excitement "Nooo way Lyney! You didn't tell us your ticklish!"

Extremely nervous, he lowered his hat to hide the blush "A-Arent we all Paimon...?"

Most of Paimon's giggled converted to menacing titters as she wiggled her fingers. "So come here and let Paimon make you relax in a better way"

He had not expected this situation to collapse on him like this. He backed a little too far to bump into a seated Aether's knees and fell, half on his lap.

"Oh dear my apologihihihiies -Wahahait!" He struggled to sit up and grab Aether's sneaking fingers prodding his sides.

His squeaks contagiously threatened to leave his lips as Aether was mischievous as well.

"Are the fatuus this weak to tickling? I must say that's a bit disadvantageous"

Paimon, floating towards Lyney's upper body, began to perform her special tickly massage on his shoulders "Waiit for Paimon Aether, she wants to tickle him too!"

"Ahahha guys plehehehease" he curled now bur Aether grabbed his hips and snickered at the stream of loud and sweet giggles, "as I was saying... we could make you spill any little secret from the house of the hearth right?"

"Ihihihin your dreheheeheams I'm nohohot thahahahat weheheheheak"

"Ahhh, tsk, tsk it's not about being weak... It's about how ticklish you are, " he taunted by kneading his ribs with pure intent to torture information out of him.

Poor Lyney, on the other hand, tried to roll to the ground, but Aether got up and pinned him further to the couch, now both of the ganging on him where he's cornered.

"Lynehehehehtte!" The twin sister peacefully finishes her tea before saying,"It's ironic how his worst spots are the most exposed areas. His armpits and thighs are pretty bad, you know"

Hearing this intel Paimon snickered "ehehehehe let Paimon excell her Paimonial wrath! Your armpits are Paimons now!!!" She charged in yo perfectly fit her small hands into his delicate armpits, she even blowed at his neck to make him squeal and hiccup into louder giggles and laughs.

"This was just to make you relax, so..." Aether teasingly swiped a finger over his thighs suddenly, making him shrill in shock and squeak, "Pleheheheease!"

"So no... at least not today, " he said this, and Paimon reluctantly backed off."That was for making fun of Paimon!"

Chuckling at her ridiculous high pitched complain Aether now cupped his cheeks to get a better look at his adorably blushing red face. "Teyvat to Lyney... you there~"

He still giggled as he said "Aaha yes, I must thank you, but... that was a bit much, wasn't it"

Meanwhile, Lynette coolly expressed, "Ignore him. He loves being tickled so you guys can knock yourselves out"

Lyney flustered now "Y-You can't just...!"

"Oh really?" Aether grabbed his shoulders now making him stiffen again "I thought I found a knot right here? Guess Paimon's masseur skills are still lacking"

"Hey!" One from Paimon.

"HEHehehey!" Another from a bewildered Lyney who giggled at the light touch now trying to move away.

"Ahahaha nohohot again! Nohohot thehehhe shoulders ahahahaha aehehehehther!"

"Let the magic begin!" Lynette smirked, joining the finale of wrecking her brother. None of them have the intention of letting Lyney go until he's cheered and satisfied.

Well... not that Lyney wanted it to stop... he liked this feeling...

#tickle fic #genshin impact #cute #lee!lyney #ler!lynette #ler!aether #ler!paimon

[addisonstars]

“more than you could ever imagine”

written for day 30 of august for @wolfstarmicrofic with the prompt "lazy"

479 words of tooth rotting fluff <3

“Can we just stay here? I don’t want to get up.” Sirius mumbled into Remus’s hair. 

Remus was sitting on Sirius’s lap on their bed, and Sirius had his arms wrapped around Remus, his chin resting on his head. It was so warm and cozy, and he didn’t want to leave. 

“I wouldn't be upset about that love.” Remus whispered. He truthfully didn't want to leave this warm safe space either. 

The summer was slowly fading into fall, and they had a lot of rain coming in because of that. The rain made both of them tired and lazy, and laying in bed all day, wrapped in each other's arms was the ideal situation for both of them. 

“Ok,” Sirius said, shifting in bed to get up, “I’m gonna go make some tea and grab a movie and maybe some books.” He begrudgingly got up out of bed and headed to the door. 

“Sounds great love.” Remus said, sliding under the covers and laying his head on the pillow. The rain always made him and his weak bones more weary than usual, and the full moon was just 2 days away, meaning that Remus was not feeling his best. 

Sirius came back in with a soft smile on his face, two cups of steaming hot tea in his hands, orange muffins, two books, and a movie. How he managed to hold all that, Remus will never know. 

“Alright love, I got the rest of our day in my hands,” Sirius says, setting down everything. Some tea for a snack,” he says, as he hands Remus his cup. “Muffins for dinner, and we can fill the time with books, and a movie,” he waves the books and movie, “and some snogging of course.” Sirius childishly smiles. 

Sirius puts the movie in the DVD player, gets back in bed, scooting right next up to Remus, and he lets Remus drape his head on his chest. Remus’s head rises and falls slightly with the breath of Sirius’s chest. Sirius presses play on the movie and they intently watch the movie. 

Sirius’s fingers card through Remus’s hair, feeling the soft curls run through his hand is a heavenly feeling. Remus visibly melts into Sirius, coming to curl up next to him. Merlin, I love you, Remus thinks. 

“I really hope so, Moony.” Sirius says, with a laugh in his voice. Remus realized that he must have said that last thought out loud. 

“I didn't mean it like Siri,” he huffs, “but I do really love you. Everyday I am reminded of how much I love you. ‘M so glad I married you. Remus says, tilting his head to look back up at Sirius. 

“I’m so glad I married you too Rem, I love you more than you could ever know or imagine.” Sirius says, pecking a kiss on Remus’ forehead. “So much more.”

i am such a sucker for domestic fics, and domestic wolfstar makes me so so happy. have a lovely wednesday <33

-a.s.

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #wolfstar fluff #domestic wolfstar #my babies #wolfstar fic #wolfstar microfic #lazy #addisonstars