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pillow-anime-talk · 9 months

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Hi it’s me again 😅 can’t get enough, so I thought of Ayato and prompt 12 with fem reader!! Them being childhood sweethearts. Again congrats on 4000 followers, you deserve it :)

# tags: scenario; friendship; fluffy shit; flashbacks; childhood sweethearts; human!reader; sfw

includes: female reader ft. ayato kirishima {tokyo ghoul}

author’s note: hello once again! i hope it's the ayato from tokyo ghoul (not from genshin impact or diabolik lovers), based on your previous request :) thank you for this prompt!

12. “But we are not married.” “Then marry me.”

You and Ayato have known each other for over eighteen years. Now you are twenty-four and twenty-five, have enough knowledge about life and also many situations behind you.

Your friendship is a sequence of pleasant memories, it’s dozens of trips together outside of Tokyo, weeks without contact and months of living in silence, your long-hour quarrels, your live together for three years in small flat, your ‘on college’ chapter, his being a ghoul and all the bad things he’s done, your own first love and his broken heart after several relationships with women... It’s all your moments with a glass of wine or something stronger, it’s just watching horror movies together until dawn, running away from important meetings, also your first serious work and all the other things that have kept the two of you apart for almost twenty years, but also made your relatio stronger than ever before.

You understood each other without words, you understood each other through gestures, facial expressions and the way of breathing. You knew each other perfectly, you knew about all your failures and about every, even the smallest, situation that made you smile or happy. There was no taboo between you, no shyness.

And although Ayato in your eyes has become a really handsome and calm guy, still looking at him to this day you are able to remember his much younger – seven-year-old – version, who stole your favorite bucket from the sandbox and argued with you that he just found it and had to take care of it... At first your friendship was turbulent and full of contradictions; the boy took your toys, scared you and ran away from you, while you called him ‘nasty black cat’ and ‘big dummy’. His father and your mother looked at you with light amusement on their faces, wondering when you will finally come to an understanding.

To this day, you remember how – after almost a year of friendship and playing together in the sandbox – Ayato approached you with a paper bag filled with cookies in your favorite flavor. It was a kind gesture that put the most beautiful smile on your baby face at that time. The boy thought it was really cute. It’s cute to see you happy and looking at him as someone you really like.

“...You should give me a kiss as a ‘Thank you’. I made them with my sister.” He said then an you only giggled under your breath. The present Ayato looked at you with furrowed brows and you just shook your head. You were at the coffee shop.

“But we are not married.” You said seventeen years ago and he just stamped his foot.

“Then marry me.” His declaration was sincere and loud at the time, causing your mummy to giggle and his dad to laugh out loud; he almost dropped the newspaper from his hands.

The memory only made you smile more and more, the tip of your nose turning slightly red.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” The dark-haired man put down the mug with the steaming drink, and you sighed amused.

“I just remembered something...” You began mysteriously, causing another surprised look to be sent in your direction. “It’s a really nice memory.” You looked down at the surface of dark coffee and could have sworn that for a brief moment your reflection looked like a six-year-old version of yourself.

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kybercrystals94 · 16 days

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Sacrifice and Loyalty

Read here on Ao3!

Angstpril 2024 | Day 12 | Prompt 12: A Little Too Late

Rated: G | Words: 561 | Summary: Missing scene between episodes 3x11 and 3x12. | Character Focus: Crosshair, Hunter

Spoilers for Season 3 Episodes 11 & 12

The moment Hunter slips through the door, he knows something is desperately wrong. The needled talons of dread claw up his throat from the pit of his stomach. He tries to swallow it back, but it lodges tightly just behind his tongue.

Hunter takes in the occupants of the space. Wrecker, still unconscious, and Crosshair, sitting next to him with his rifle propped at the ready against his thigh. Their sister’s absence is cavernous.

“Where’s Omega?” Hunter asks.

Crosshair’s shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath. He stands, leaning his rifle against the wall, and turns to face Hunter head on.

“Omega turned herself in.” Crosshair states it, voice pressed flat of emotion. His hand trembles at his side, unchecked, as Crosshair looks anywhere but Hunter’s face. “She…” his dull voice catches, “She did it to save Pabu. They wouldn’t have stopped searching until they found her. It was only a matter of time.” He glances down, notices his hand and grips it in the other. “I tried to reason with her. She knew the risks.

“But I failed to protect her,” Crosshair continues. “I was supposed to get a tracker on the ship, but I missed. I missed, and she doesn’t know. She trusted me to make the shot, and I missed.” He fists his trembling hand. “I’m sorry, Hunter.”

The initial, reactive twist of Hunter’s features as the news settles is hidden behind his helmet. They just got her back, and the Empire snatched her away again. Righteous anger burns deep, and it takes every piece of Hunter’s exhausted resolve not to become violent, to throw something, break something, destroy something. It isn’t fair, what this galaxy has taken from them, has done to them, over and over again.

Hunter takes a staggered step forward, and Crosshair flinches. It is subtle, almost imperceptible. But Hunter sees it, and his heart fractures further. His anger does not extend to Crosshair. How could it, when he sees his own turmoil and regret reflected in his little brother’s averted eyes? Hunter puts his anger away, thrusts it into the darkest corner of his mind to fester, and reaches up to take off his helmet. Crosshair’s gaze slides over to meet his as soon as his face is exposed.

“I know you did everything you could,” Hunter says. He swallows. There is no comfort in the truth, just the reality. “Omega would have gone with or without you backing her up.”

Hunter remembers seeing his sister after he and Wrecker were captured, small and fierce, energy bow drawn, refusing to hide away if there was any possibility of saving her brothers. Omega isn’t a soldier, but loyalty and sacrifice are saturated in her blood. Just like Tech.

Naked surprise twitches Crosshair’s expression before settling back into careful neutral. He nods stiffly, looking away. “She put the people of Pabu before herself, risked everything so that we might find Tantiss. I was ambushed by troopers when I was lining up the shot for the tracker. I…I couldn’t recover my position in time…”

Hunter rests a hand on Crosshair’s pauldron. “Omega won’t blame you, Cross. I don’t blame you. We’ll find her again.”

Crosshair swallows visibly and steadies himself before looking Hunter in the eye again. A small, despondent smile quirks the edge of his lips. “Not if she finds us first.”

END

Heading into the next third of our prompts! Make sure you check out all of @the-little-moment and @just-here-with-my-thoughts contributions to Angstpril! They are amazing!! Here's an easy list of our first 10 prompt fills!

✨Let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list!✨

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @isthereanechoinhere96 @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @merkitty49

#angstpril2024 #day 12 #prompt 12 #a little too late #the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #star wars #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #missing scene #angst #brothers #hurt no comfort #fics by kyber

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writing-promptsss · 26 days

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Prompt #12

"I'm a failure."

"No, you're not. You're allowed to feel frustrated. You're allowed to feel sad. You're allowed to be angry at people. We are all human and we make mistakes."

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 8 months

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Sicktember #12

Prompt: Old Wives Tale

Fandom/OCs: Science Lovers OCs (Peter and Violet)

Words: 1360

Sicknario inspo: Catching cold after doing something foolhardy from this post and caretaker being sneezed on from this post (both posts by @sickromancer !)

Author’s comments/background: So many characters that I only write for Sicktember, but it’s such a treat to revisit them. I loved Peter and Violet’s first story so much (read it here), and watching them grow up is delightful to me. So here’s another domestic drabble set in the Victorian era.

~~~***~~~

Peter and Violet were sitting by the pond behind their tiny home, enjoying the late autumn sunset. They were dressed for warmth, since the wind had more than a hint of winter on it, but it was a beautiful, sunny day and they knew they wouldn't have many more of those. The married couple spoke little, enjoying the silence and each other's company. Peter had been staring at the surface of the water contemplatively, when suddenly his eyes lit up. He was on his feet in a moment, crouching at the edge of the pond with rapt stillness, carefully sliding out of his jacket.

"Peter? What is it?" Violet asked, feeling the need to whisper.

He gestured for her to be silent, his attention fixed on something at the center of the pond. They sat frozen in silence, Violet waiting for some sign as to what was happening, when out of nowhere, Peter dove into the water. The motion was so unexpected that Violet stood with a gasp, rushing to the pond's edge, hands over her mouth, but Peter appeared a moment later, grinning triumphantly with something clenched in his fist. He waded to the bank crowing with pride:

"I found one! The final specimen needed to complete our frog study! We've been looking all summer but none of the lads have even seen this breed and we'd all but given up. It's past the season for them, really. I've no idea what she's doing here now, but she's a winner, big and fat! She'll look tremendous at the exhibition."

"Oh Peter, but your clothes! You're covered in filthy, stinking pond water now. And it's freezing! You're going to catch your death behaving so."

He came fully out of the water, all of him now sopping wet and colored various shades of green and brown. "They're just clothes," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "They'll wash, and so will my skin. Besides, Britain's scientific community will benefit much from our exhibition. I'd say the contribution we're making is worth a few ruined shirts," he said, almost pleadingly, as if begging her to agree with him.

Violet glared at him, hands on her hips, not so easily swayed. "Just you wait, sir," she said, shaking her head. "You'll sing a different tune when you've caught a beastly cold from acting like a child, and I'll not feel one whit sorry for you. Diving into dirty ponds in October indeed. Why must women be vexed with men?"

Peter was already shivering in the cold air, but he cradled the frog tenderly, being careful not to injure it. “Vi, dearest, you needn't be cross. I want to be excited, and I don’t want to spoil the day by quarreling with you. I'll see to my clothes so it's not a worry on you. And you of all people, with all your training in medicine, should know that I mightn’t get sick just from getting wet. The new research from John Snow and others says that microscopic organisms are the cause of illness, not air and weather. I read you that journal just last week, don't you remember? You see, I'm sure I’ll be just fine. And right now my only wish is that you'd be happy along with me!"

Violet sighed, but a smile twitched the corners of her mouth against her will. He was so sweet and earnest as he spoke, just as he’d been when they first met. “Oh go on, then. I’m pleased you found your precious frog. But come, now, you must get cleaned up. They may be saying that weather doesn’t cause illness, but I’d rather we not tempt fate.”

Peter willingly followed her to the house, but wouldn’t see to himself until he had secured his prize to ensure she would stay well until he was ready to dress her for display. Meanwhile, Violet wouldn’t let him in the door until he had stripped down naked and been doused with a few buckets of water to remove the worst of the slime. As she was helping him disentangle himself from his sodden shirt, he froze. Just as she was about to ask him if he was well, he sneezed harshly, trying to turn away from her, mostly unsuccessfully. His nose was immediately running from the sneeze, but he had nothing to wipe it with other than his filthy shirt. She hastily handed him her own handkerchief, unable to keep a smug look from her face.

“You’ll say that sneeze was a coincidence, I’m sure, but I’ll not wonder the cold water is already having its way with you, foolish man.”

Peter made an annoyed sound. “It's only the water and slime in my nose. I’m not taking ill. Illness from the cold is an old wive’s tale now. Just you wait and see.”

~~~

Wait she did, and her reward was to see him come down with a beauty of a head cold in two days’ time. He continued to insist the foreign stuff from the pond in his nose made him sick, though, not the cold air and water. Violet kept her opinion to herself, and tried not to be too smug. Anyway, it was hard to be angry when Peter was so happy. His frog and the completion of his collection thrilled him, and he earned the unabashed admiration of his friends for his boldness and quick action. (His clothes and shoes were a loss in the end, but he paid for new from his own pocket with good grace.) The amphibian was a fine specimen to be sure, and everyone was certain she would be the crowning jewel of the exhibition.

Amidst all the excitement, though, Peter was a sniffling, sneezing, shivering mess and within a week he was unable to leave the house due to how poorly he was feeling. Putting aside her own feelings, Violet gave his cold the best care she could, for Peter's colds turned feverish at the slightest provocation. One night during the worst of it he could hardly draw breath for the clogging congestion in his chest and sinuses (worse than usual even for him, and this she could easily attribute to the pond water), so she drew him a hot bath for his feet and kept him wrapped in quilts as he soaked in the steam to keep the sickly shivers at bay, with a clean stack of handkerchiefs near at hand. He sniffled and sneezed and generally carried on, though she knew he was doing his best not to, so that her heart melted for him, even when he managed to sneeze or nearly sneeze on her almost every time she was near.

"Thangk you, dearest," he managed as she placed a bowl of stew near at hand. "I'mb sorry to incodvedience you, and I appreciade your care as always."

His earnest, watering eyes above a pink, runny nose were so endearing that she could only kiss his temple fondly. " 'Tis no trouble, for you're an easier patient than most. I'll not even waste my breath telling you never to do anything so foolhardy in the name of science again, because I know you would do it over a hundred times, given the same circumstance. So I must content myself with helping you take care in the aftermath."

He gave her a sheepish smile, scrubbing a wrist across his upper lip absently. "You do such an excellent job of idt. I'mb mbost fortunade.

She had to laugh. "I can hardly listen to you when your voice is so. You're completely pitiful when you've caught cold, my dear. I simply can't bear it." She pressed another kiss to his hair as his lips formed a pout.

"You ndeedn't treadt mbe like a child," he muttered. Yet he let his weight fall against her as she continued to stroke his hair.

"Perhaps if you didn't go jumping into ponds in your shoes and trousers like a child, I'd be less inclined to do so."

He pulled away from her to glare, but she continued to work her fingers through his hair, smiling to show she was only teasing. He leaned against her once more, mollified. She continued her ministrations to his scalp for a long while until, sick as he was, he fell fast asleep against her.

#sicktember 2023 #skt 2023 #prompt 12 #science lovers ocs

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fanfictasia · 3 months

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Whumpuary Prompt 12

“You’re Awake” / Rescue

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from The Nighttime Fear

He jolts back to consciousness, gasping.

“You’re awake!” Wrecker exclaims gleefully, scooping him into a hug. Hunter doesn’t even have the energy to grumble about it. He’s exhausted, and his head feels fuzzy from whatever sedatives that was, or maybe it’s from the surgery. It’ll take a while to click back, and until then, well, he’ll be stumbling around in a half sluggish state and hopefully not get anyone else killed.

“Yeah,” Hunter grumbles, face pressed against his little brother’s chest. “I’m awake.” It’s Tech’s turn now.

“You okay?” Wrecker asks, pulling back, expression worried.

Hunter sighs, trying to force the dreams from mind, but they stubbornly stay. Crosshair was hurting her. She’s just a child. “I dreamed again. More… vivid than usual.”

“Are you sure it’s a dream?” Anakin queries, turning to them.

“What do you mean?”

“It could have been a vision,” Anakin points out, “Your… specific connection to the Force does imply it could be a gift you have.”

He… didn’t know that, but there’s a lot of things Hunter doesn’t know about being a Jedi. That child – whoever she is – was hurting. Being hurt. By Crosshair. She needs them, but he doesn’t know what he could do.

“What’ve you been seeing?” Rex inquires, and he and Ahsoka approach them.

“I don’t even know who she is,” Hunter admits. Our brothers, she had said, but that doesn’t make any sense. Who’s the plural in that? “I’ve never seen her before, but there is something important about her.”

“Perhaps you don’t remember her,” Anakin suggests, “Or she will be important to you in future.”Hunter can’t imagine either, but something about it whispers with rightness in the Force. “Maybe,” he sighs. He doesn’t tell them the rest. Doesn’t tell them about Crosshair, even if he should. He doesn’t know how.

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thedarknesssings · 8 months

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Prompt 12: Confidence

Prompt 12: Dowdy - FFXIV Write 2023 Characters: Ghost @the-ring-xiv, Marius @marius-vieremont, Idristan @roses-and-grimoires

The pile of lace, velvet, silk, and satin brocade scared Ghost. The fabrics were rich and fine. He hugged the plush towel around himself and wondered once again why his Ishgardians thought him suitable for such beautiful things. He was a construct at worst, a thief at best. Considering him spoken was a stretch for many given his nature was fog and not even solid flesh. Hells, the flesh he wore was stolen.

“Have you tried any of it on, yet, Sebastien?” Marius’s voice came through the closed bedroom door.

“Uh, no, not yet.” Ghost glanced toward the door, squinting at it as if daring one of them to open it.

“Do you need help?” Idristan’s voice this time.

Ghost sighed and rasped out, “No, m’able t’figure it out.”

He swore this was bonding time for Idristan and Marius, bullying him into traditional Ishgardian things. The last time they stuck him in a suit was for a small party. This was a gala affair according to the pair of them, the first ball of the season and a really big deal. Ghost flopped down on the bed and stuffed the pillow over his face. Sadly trying to suffocate himself wasn’t going to get him out of this. He didn’t need to breathe.

The pillow thumped to the floor after hitting the wall it was thrown at. Ghost sat up, his long dark hair shimmering silver in the flicker of the light cast by the fire in the hearth. A full length mirror reflected himself back at him.

He squinted his grey eyes. Dull. No colour like Idristan’s beautiful green. He plucked up a few strands of his hair, still damp from the bath. Boring. Black with a weird silver that reflected off the bottom of the strands. And every now and again, he glowed. Like a fucking candlebra abruptly lit up.

Marius was tall, willowy, handsome with his silver streaked hair boasting a lifetime of joys and sorrows. All of which he could count as his own, know they were woven into his being because he lived through them himself. The pride stitched into his graceful posture he’d earned.

Idristan was stunning. Soft, white hair that shone like the full moon flowed down the elegant curve of his back. His eyes full of life and determination, things taught to him over the passage of a life he fought hard to keep. He too had earned his pride.

Ghost had not.�� His existence was nothing to be proud of. His lifetimes were stolen and none of the knowledge he’d acquired was his own. That too he could steal in the blink of an eye from the multitude of souls he’d reaped over the centuries.

And they’d call him silly if they knew he thought this way. With his infinite lives and infinite knowledge at his fingertips. There was something to be said for a single lifetime, for memories and knowledge earned, for foolish youthful mistakes and the wisdom that came with age. He envied the men he loved.

His gaze drifted away from the mirror toward the pile of elegant clothing on the bed. The two had picked it out with him in mind. Ghost was not about to disappoint either. He began the arduous task of pulling on the clothing. The slacks fit him like a glove and the leather shoes proved to be quite comfortable. The lace cuffs he thought a bit much. This is about where he realized he couldn’t finish alone.

Ghost pulled open the door, letting the pair plastered against it inside the bedroom. He smiled sheepishly at them. “I need help.” The corset laces ran through his fingers as he drew his arm outward, a single eyebrow crooking. “Whichever one of you is at fault for this can do it.”

Idristan grinned and stepped around Ghost, plucking the laces away from him to start the rigorous task of cinching the corset in around the thief’s figure. A couple of pulls in and Ghost found himself gripping the foot of the bed. Marius watched the pair through his fog-tinted spectacles, the enchantment in them allowing him relatively normal sight.

“Have t’be so tight?”

Both of the men behind him answered in unison, “Yes, definitely. Mhmm.”

“Are y’both wearing one too?” He glanced over his shoulder. Marius shook his head, but he was smart enough to be wearing formal robes. Idristan grinned at Ghost. The knee length topcoat he wore lay snug to his torso. “You are.”

Idristan furrowed his brow and yanked the strings tighter. “Of course. And why not have a waistline to envy?” The strings were tied off and Idristan took Ghost by the shoulders to steer him over to the mirror. “Look.”

The image reflected back at him surprised him. The waistcoat pulled his waist in and accentuated the triangular shape of his body from shoulders down. Like Idristan, Ghost partook of high-energy exercise on the regular, namely a lot of running in dangerous places and climbing into locations he shouldn’t be in. It kept him in excellent shape. The curve of his ass was on full display in the tailored pants and cinched waistcoat.

“It’s practically indecent and you’re fully clothed.” Marius murmured, his gaze avid on his husband’s image in the mirror.

“This why your coats always have that sweet little bounce at the back?” Ghost peered at Idristan, one hand sneaking around Idristan to run down his back and rear.

“Yes, it is. Now hold still. We’re almost done.”

Idristan let him have his feel. He took the opportunity while Ghost was distracted to pull the white lace cravat into place and tie it for him. Marius handed over a jeweled pin which Idristan placed centrally in the cravat. The topcoat was regal in Ghost’s opinion, far too nice to go on him. Neither wanted to hear his protests and the fine brocade was soon fastened around him. It fit perfectly. The silverthread leaf-like patterns on deep black satin fabric set the varying hues in his hair off, which Marius took the time to comb out neatly for him and braid. A pair of cufflinks that matched the pin were the final touch.

The pair stepped back to eye Ghost. He stood a bit rigidly, like he was afraid to move. His gaze was fixed on the mirror and the image there. He looked good in all this finery. Just like he might very well belong on the arm of a Viscount and in the company of the heir of a Baron. Ghost spun on a high heel and grinned at the pair of Ishgardians. He ran his palms down his sides, taking in the smooth feeling of the tailed top coat and the shape the waistcoat made of him.

“Think they might make one of these vests t’go under m’leathers?” Like he needed something more suggestive beneath those.

#ffxiv write 2023 #prompt 12 #writers on tumblr #ffxiv writers #elezen #Ishgard #we post like men today

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bleeding-letters · 2 years

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Writing Prompt #12

“You’re playing with fire.”

“There are far worse things to play with, dear.”

#writing #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero x villain #villain x hero #writing prompt #prompt 12

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its-elvish-for-two · 7 months

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Whumptober Prompt 12:

"I haven't slept in days but who's counting?"

#whumptober2023 #prompt 12 #hey we did it #worth it epilogue #royce melborn #hadrian blackwater #riyria #riyria revelations #riyria revelations spoilers #ao3 fanfic #riyria fanfic #fanart #my art

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wonkyelk · 6 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stargate Atlantis Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard Characters: Rodney McKay, John Sheppard Additional Tags: Character Study, Short, Angst, Feelings Realization, Whumptober 2023 Summary:

Rodney’s relationship with sleep had always been complicated.

#mcshep #sga fanfiction #whumptober 2023 #prompt 12

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midcinmancave · 5 months

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Story Prompt: "I’m not saying I didn’t like it."

Summary: The Bureaucrat enjoys an outing amongst the people. Complete Story Source

Fictober Submission #18 Fandom: Midnight Cinderella Featuring: Leo Crawford, Alyn Crawford, Sid Arnault Warnings: None Rating/Genre: General Audience, Comedy Writer: Leo Crawford’s Admin

#Fictober23 #Midnight Cinderella #fanfiction #12 #Leo Crawford #Alyn Crawford #Sid Arnault #MidCin #Kingdom of Wysteria #KOW Writer Project #イケメン王宮 #Prompt 12

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pillow-anime-talk · 8 months

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12 fluff promt for uta plz

# tags: scenario; current relationship; soulmate!au (tattoos); light romance; fluff; couple goals; sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. uta {tokyo ghoul}

author’s note: hope u like it :) have a nice day/night!

12. “But we are not married.” “Then marry me.”

Punk music played at medium volume and spread throughout the building, and you jiggled your right foot to it while keeping your both eyes on the colorful magazine in your hands. From time to time you also glanced at your boyfriend, Uta, who was a few meters away from you, tattooing another client who wanted a huge red dragon across the entire width and length of his back. His concentration was really intriguing, and not even your warm gaze could snap him out of trance.

That’s why, after a few tries, you focused entirely on the thick periodical, reading about the biggest fashion bloopers of this month and dozens of romances in the world of showbiz stars.

{ ･ﾟ✧ }

After another three hours, Uta finished part of the tattoo and thanked his male client for staying in the uncomfortable position for that time. Together with a middle-aged man who had a black beard and dark eyes, they agreed on the last meeting, and thus the last part of the beautiful painting that was to appear on the right shoulder blade. They shook hands, wished each other a nice evening, and then Uta closed the front door to his small tattoo studio, which he had been running for years on his own with no other employees. He turned off all the lights, then returned to a room decorated with a tattoo table, several cabinets, special equipment and a trash bin.

There was also a small, dirty-green leather couch and a table with a glass surface. There was you on the sofa, clutching a magazine in your hands, though your eyes were squeezed tight and your mouth slightly open. The calm face and light movements of the chest spoke loudly about the fact that somewhere in the middle of Uta’s work you fell asleep, and the only thing that appeared in your sleepy thoughts was the desire to drink a cup of coffee without milk and sugar.

For a brief moment, Uta didn’t have the heart to wake you up because he knew your life had been quite stressful in recent days and you had a lot of responsibilities in your private life, but at the same time, he didn’t want your head to hurt after this short nap, or worse, your back and neck.

Before waking you up, however, he glanced at one of the hands that was touching the paper and smiled at the small tattoo adorning your little finger. The drawing showed a full moon; light streaks and lines were made with the utmost precision – the tattoo looked like a real moon that can be found in the sky. After briefly glancing at your finger, he looked automatically at his own left hand and the left corner of his mouth twitched. On his pinky there was a drawing of the same size – the only difference was that there was a tiny sun on his pale skin.

He sighed though, touching your soft cheek covered with gold highlighter.

“... Mgmhm...” You muttered something unintelligible under your breath, which made the man laugh again. “Uta... It’s your turn to... Y-You have to take our kids to school... Mhm...” You said a little more clearly, though your voice was still quiet, muffled by yawns and the desire to stay asleep. It was, after all, close to eleven in the evening.

“Kids?” He raised an eyebrow and the silver earring a bit up. “But we are not married.” He added directly into your ear, and you wiggled your nose, keeping your eyes shut.

“Then marry me.”

Surely you dreamed something nice – there was a slight smile and a huge blush on your face. Uta gave up and decided not to wake you up. Instead, he lifted your body off the couch with no problem. He had placed the magazine on a glass table a moment earlier, next to a small candlestick and a vase of dead roses.

You were already soulmates, and that meant the bonds of marriage. Nevertheless, the vision of you two with a bunch of children and then grandchildren, although too beautiful, did not have to be unattainable.

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kybercrystals94 · 7 months

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Just a Scrap of Fabric

Read on Ao3 here!

By KyberCrystals94

Whumptober 2023|Day 12|Prompt 12: Red

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Bloody Nose

Rating: G

Words: 582

Summary: Hunter gets his bandana.

One day, when the Batch were biologically 9 years old, Hunter walked into their barracks with his wild mane of regulation spurning hair neatly corralled by a strip of red fabric. Three pairs of eyes studied him unabashedly. Hunter pretended he didn’t notice. No questions were asked, no answers were given. And that was that. Hunter wore a bandana now.

Months passed, and the memories of what Hunter looked like without his red bandana faded. Which is why it was all the more shocking when he came into the barracks, minutes before lights out, without the now familiar bandana. But he did have the shadow of a developing black eye and a bloody nose. Hunter avoided making eye contact with his brothers as he made for the fresher.

Crosshair caught him. “Hey! What happened to you?”

“I’m fine,” Hunter growled. He tried to shove past Crosshair, but Crosshair merely grabbed him by both shoulders and steered him to sit at the table.

“Tech, get the first aid kit,” Crosshair said.

“I said I’m fine!” Hunter protested, but his eyes were becoming shiny and red, a figurative and literal bruised scowl twisted his expression.

“And I say you’re a karking liar,” Crosshair snapped back as he dug through the kit Tech meekly provided. “Are you gonna tell us what happened?” He handed Hunter a wad of gauze.

Hunter puts the gauze under his nose, voice muffled behind it. “Just some stupid regs.”

“Why’d they do it?” Wrecker asked, his stuffed tooka, Lula, clutched in his fists.

“It doesn’t matter why,” Hunter said.

Crosshair activated a cold pack and holds it against Hunter’s swollen left eye.

“It matters to us,” Tech said.

Hunter lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Regs don’t have to have a reason.”

“But these ones did,” Crosshair pressed.

A chime sounded, giving the one minute to lights out warning.

“It’s too late to talk about it now,” Hunter declared. He took the ice pack from Crosshair. “Go to bed.”

Glances are exchanged, but four cadets climb into their bunks without another word.

🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺

“They took his bandana!” Wrecker cried.

“That is true in all likelihood; however, there’s nothing we can do about that now. Hunter won’t tell us who the regs are,” Tech added.

“And even if he did,” Crosshair said, “it’s not like they’d give it back.”

Wrecker jumped up from the table where the secret meeting concerning Hunter was being held. “We should get him a new one!”

“From where. We don’t even know where he got the first one,” Crosshair grumbled as he picked at a loose thread on the sleeve of his red cadet uniform.

Tech watched him for a moment then smiled. “I have an idea.”

🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺🔺

Hunter was surprised when he returned to the barracks and found it empty. His eyes drifted over the room, searching for any clue where his brothers might have gone to. That’s when he saw a burst of red fabric on his bed.

He picked it up, a long strip of fabric hemmed with neat, even stitches. The same kind of stitches Crosshair used when he’d repaired tears on Lula.

A new bandana.

Not the worn, raggedy piece of fabric he’d found in a bin.

Hunter smiled and ran to the fresher, tied the bandana around his head and admired it in the mirror. It was perfect.

When his brothers returned a few minutes later from wherever they were, no questions were asked, but three barely contained smiles was answer enough.

END

Author’s Note: Just a little, fluffy one-shot with a pinch of whump. ☺️

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @isthereanechoinhere96 @amorfista

✨Let me know if you’d like to be on my tag list!✨

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cadrenebula · 8 months

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Prompt #12: Dowdy

Destiney sat drinking her cup of tea as she watched her daughter with Esper nearby. Glad that her brother had left Esper here while he was working on something downstairs in the guest room that was setup for family.

But that was where he'd made a mistake. Evelyn was on a kick with trying to make the wolves cute with things like ribbons or flowers. Which meant Esper was not escaping the child's need to decorate a fluffy friend. Esper was often a victim when her brother came by.

She wasn't going to do a thing to stop it either. Though she felt at least a little bad for Esper. Stefan would be the one more upset than the sweet carbuncle. Esper was always extremely tolerant of Evelyn's desires. Besides watching her brother be annoyed but unable to yell at his niece would be entirely worth it. Payment for his lack of visits other than for delivering her medicines to the clinic. Definitely payment for his poor eating habits.

Yes she'd noticed her brother was still far too thin. Not quite unhealthy but clearly burning more calories than he was taking in between the magic he was practicing and the weapon he was working with. But voicing her concerns for his eating habits would only end up with them arguing. Something she didn't want to do around Evelyn. She'd have to reach out to Ely, Aryn, and Sahji. Maybe they could plot a way to get him to eat more.

So let him suffer the less than fashionable ways Evelyn wished to dress up Esper. Smiling over the rim of her cup when she heard her brother's approaching steps. Watching his conflicted face as he wanted to be outraged but knowing he couldn't do that to his niece. Oh the struggle on his expressions was delicious.

#FFxivWrite2023 #FFxivWrite #Prompt 12 #Prompt Dowdy #About Destiney #About Stefan #Delvanguard Twins #The Shroud Maiden #Nerd Mage #Child of the Wolf and Maiden

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sterek-and-stuff-events · 9 months

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Mead Moons prompt: Hot

Does Stiles' brain stop functioning when Derek wears only a tiny pair of running shorts during a summer training session? Or does Derek have a hard time controlling his wolf when Stiles is all hot and sweaty from playing lacrosse?

Do they meet while choosing the same bit of shade to hide from the unforgiving sun in a post-apocalyptic wasteland? Or do they dare each other to consume hot sauces higher and higher on the Scoville scale until tears are streaming down their faces?

Does Stiles end up stuck manning the grill at the pack bbq so Derek comes over to keep him company with some ice cream? Or do they go to a nearby river to cool off during a record heatwave and one thing leads to another?

Create something that will get folks heated! 🥵

#sterek #sterek events #teen wolf events #sterek & stuff events #mead moons #mead moons hot #prompt 12 #random daily prompt

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raflesia65 · 1 year

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Prompt 12: Crimson

@aurlyn and I together for the @14daysdalovers event.

Have fun💖

#14daysdalovers #14daysdalovers 2023 #prompt 12 #crimson #cullistair #cullistair kisses #cullen rutherford #alistair theirin #dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fan art #dragon age fanfic #raflesia65 draws #aurlyn writes

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oswsfandomchallenge · 8 months

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On to prompt number twelve and the last quarter of the off-season. We're excited to see what you'll come up with! 💜

prompt #12:

❄️ Oops, wrong number ❄️

#osws fandom challenge #winter sports #prompt 12 #alpine skiing #freestyle skiing #ski cross #cross country skiing #ski jumping #biathlon #nordic combination #curling #snowboarding #hockey #ice skating #fanfiction #fanart #sports rpf

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