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tripleyeeet · 9 months

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BLEED YOU DRY (1)

SUMMARY: When you awake to find Astarion attempting to drink your blood, you find yourself making a interesting decision.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader (reads as Gender Neutral but future chapters will be femme focused, just a heads up!)

WORD COUNT: 3,273

WARNINGS: Bloodsucking, that's about it?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so I'm aware I'm way ahead of schedule for this Haunted Hoedown thing but I'm going to be gone for a few days in the middle of it so I figured I'd get a headstart now to make sure I get every day done but also to build the hype? Maybe?

Basically this is going to be a little twelve part miniseries based on prompts from this writing challenge. I'll make a masterpost either tonight or tomorrow with all the ones I chose, plus some other stuff, so you guys know what's going on!

The prompt for this particular day was "I want to watch you bleed."

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

The squirming tadpole behind your eye is what wakes you up. Its constant movement, wriggling from edge to edge quickly prompts you to groan and palm your eye, attempting to suppress the feeling as you blink through the darkness. It takes a moment to adjust —to feel that twitch of the creature die down— and when it does there’s a sigh of satisfaction that leaves your lips.

Despite how long it’s been, you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to the fact that you have a parasite living inside your mind. Even after experiencing the insertion firsthand, you often forget it’s there, looming behind your retinas, awaiting use every time you run into another. Normally it’s so still, barely inching out of place; sitting there, incubating within your thoughts. Tonight though, something’s urging its presence. Keeping it awake as you close your eyes again, scrunching up your face once it moves a second time.

Angrily, you sit up and turn your head, suddenly catching Astarion’s gaze, noticing the open-mouthed grin he offers in response.

“Shit.”

You narrow your eyes, focusing on his teeth. How bared they are; ready to strike at a moment's notice despite the only food lying around being you. “Were you just about to bite me?” you ask and almost immediately he attempts to play it off as if it were nothing, scoffing and rolling his eyes.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you if that’s what you’re insinuating. I was only going for a nibble.”

You can feel your tadpole squirm. He’s telling the truth, albeit for reasons that are more selfish than he lets on. Despite seeming otherwise, he only wants to drink from you for strength —for energy. His desire to kill you is minuscule, lingering in the shadows of his mind for a potentially later day but surprisingly such notions don’t scare you. Astarion may be a bloodthirsty creature but for now, he’s an ally.

“And you didn’t think to just ask first?” You raise a brow at him, watching his expression twist into something bordering between confusion and interest.

“I’m sorry, just ask?” he parrots, exploring your features and how they remain calm despite the context.

He was expecting you to be angry. To throw some kind of fit and deny. It’s what any normal person would do, but considering the circumstances, offering up a little blood to build up the strength of someone on the same side is worth more than the annoyance that forms across your face.

“Yes, like a normal person,” you chastise, taking in the scowl he offers in response.

His brows furrow at the sound of your words, angling upwards to appear as sinister as possible, and you can’t help but snort. Something about his constant disapproval is almost humorous at this point.

“Normal? Darling, I’m a creature of the night. A blood sucking fiend. A—“

“Vampire, yes, we’re all well aware given the teeth.” You poke at your own canine, tapping the enamel with open lips just as he swallows hard and narrows his eyes.

“Yes, well, obviously considering such details I thought it inappropriate to ask. People don’t typically agree to such perilous sounding terms,” he says, voice light and airy. Casual, you might say, despite the context.

“So instead you were just going to go for it?” You raise your brow, a smirk playing across your lips as he rolls his eyes.

“Seemed like the best possible option… at the time.”

You offer him a quiet ah, nodding your head as the two of you remain still, watching each other. Trying to gauge how the other is feeling without the use of your tadpoles.

Based on what you know about Astarion you assume he’s too stubborn to ask. Now that he’s caught, regardless of whether or not he needs the blood, he’ll never find himself in a position to be desperate enough to say those simple little words. Being a man of persuasion, he’ll most likely just talk his way into it —make it seem like the whole thing was your idea in the first place before diving right in.

It’d be respectable if you weren’t the victim. If it were Wyll or Gale and you were to bear witness to his deceptions, you’d fully support it. Encourage it even if he were to ask your opinion.

Since it’s you though, you can’t help but feel a bit frustrated. Astarion and you have never been particularly friendly. Having only been around each other for a few weeks, all you’ve talked about is the Illithid and how you plan to get rid of it —what you’ll do after it’s gone. But even the latter conversations hardly spark specific details. Mostly they’re just brief mentions of wanting to run away. To become hidden after the war is over.

You assume someone’s looking for him based on the way he speaks and carries himself. When you’re on the move he hides within the pack, using you all as a shield while he looks around. Always on high alert, his ears twitch at any foreign sound, his eyes dart to meet the faces of anyone you may come across. At night, he’s always the one to keep watch and over time you’ve come to realize it isn’t just because he doesn’t sleep. It’s because he’s looking for someone.

Even now, as he stands above you, you can see his eyes looking past you to focus on the underbrush. The way they narrow with focus, pushing past your face. He can sense something that you can’t —feel the eyes of some foreign presence staring at the two of you.

You’re tempted to use the tadpole to find out what exactly it is but quickly refrain once you hear the shuffling of branches behind you followed by Astarion’s breath of relief.

“You alright?”

His eyes shut for a split second. His chest heaves a single breath and in that moment you’re struck with an odd sense of sympathy. The feeling of pity laces throughout your thoughts as you imagine Astarion’s life before all of this. You imagine it isn’t great. Considering he’s a vampire, there’s probably at least an inkling of trauma there after living, dying and coming back as something other than yourself. No sane person would be the same after that, especially when taking into account all the symptoms. Before his transition, he could do mundane things. Enjoy the pleasantries of life like the sun and sleeping and food.

Nowadays, all it seems he craves is blood and power. Flesh of whatever he can get his greedy little hands on. The upper hand in any possible argument. Both make what Astarion is on the surface, but looking at him now, wondering what else lies behind that thick, defensive coat of first impressions, you know there are other things. Nicer ones he refuses to showcase.

They’re the details of his life before everything. Traits reserved only for himself, and for some uncharacteristic reason, you’re tempted to find out what they are.

“If you need to…” Trailing off, you feel your stomach twist at the realization of what you’re about to offer. The consequences are high, maybe even too high, but perhaps the benefits could be deemed higher. At this point, you’re certain no one else will give him what he needs. They’re all too noble or guarded to allow Astarion, regardless of his current allegiance, to drink.

They don’t trust him. And even though you find yourself in the same boat, feeling the skepticism of your words start to echo in the back of your mind, you know it’s the most logical thing to do. Sure, it may not be the right one. By a long shot, it’s probably one of the worst ideas you’ve ever had, but you know deep down that it’s necessary for your survival. To ensure that, when all this blows over and the potential of you going your separate ways occurs, Astarion doesn’t view you as an enemy.

“If you need to drink, you can.”

His eyes widen only a bit. Just enough for you to notice the slight shock that spreads across his features. “I can?”

There’s a reluctance you feel begin to bubble up but instead of acting on it you merely shut it down, nodding your head. “Yes, but only a little. Don’t want you bleeding me dry before this whole thing is all over.”

Somehow that makes him laugh. “Oh, darling, I wouldn’t dream of such a thing.”

You force yourself not to smirk as he lies through his teeth. Knowing him, he’d suck you dry if it weren’t for the fact that there’s safety in numbers. “Unfortunately for me this isn’t a dream.”

“Fair point,” he replies, taking a short step forward. After that he slowly begins to crouch towards the ground, watching you closely —focusing on the rise and fall of your chest as his face falls mere inches from yours. “For now though, I promise to do no such thing.”

“And you’re certain you’ll keep it?”

He hums, a grin pulling at his cheeks. “For now,” he muses. “In the future though…”

He’s so close you can feel his breath. Hot and heavy puffs pushed through a low, far too sultry tone of voice that has you pressing your lips together in a thin line.

Out of everyone, Astarion’s always been the most intriguing. The one you’ve had this constant back and forth with, debating whether or not to approach or run. Aside from the obvious vampirism, it’s quite obvious that he isn’t like the others. From what you’ve been able to piece together, he doesn’t have a cause. A God or some sort of leader he’s willing to lay down the law for. He’s not noble like Wyll or faithful like Shadowheart. He’s just Astarion. A bloodied wolf all by his lonesome, following the rest of the pack.

You’re sure he has desires like the rest of them. Wants and needs that’ll inevitably be gifted to him at the end of this —so long as you all survive. Like everyone else, he has a purpose in mind, but what that purpose is is unbeknownst to you thanks to the charm he offers in replacement of the truth. Because of this, he feels almost like a treasure chest. A trove of untold riches kneeling before you, tempting you to open.

“I’m sure the future will have us far enough away from each other where that doesn’t happen, so I won’t worry.”

Almost immediately, he can tell you’re fishing for information. The way his brow slightly upturns and the flirtatious grin across his face transitions into more of a smirk. It makes you internally curse, knowing that no matter how hard you try you’ll never beat him at his own game. His way with words is too precise. Too calculated, even for someone like you who grew up convincing people of your lies.

“You never know. Perhaps after this is all over I’ll follow you. Linger amongst the shadows until the time is right.”

You can’t tell if he’s kidding. His voice is too convincing to be completely certain, so you merely roll your eyes. “Yes, well, if you do decide to drink me to death, be sure to make it quick.”

He clicks his tongue, leaning slightly further in. “What would be the fun in that though?”

There’s an unfamiliar ache inside your chest. A rupture of pain that wreaks havoc against your ribcage, pounding. Now that he’s close to you, you can assume it’s always been there but because he’s so good at posing a distraction you weren’t fully aware of it until now.

“Fair point,” you repeat his words back to him, deeply inhaling just as the tadpole suddenly shifts in tandem with your chest. Ebbing and flowing across your inner eye in time with your shaky breath, you notice Astarion pick up on it, humming knowingly.

“You fear me, don’t you?”

Despite the answer being blatantly obvious, your lips remained sealed. Closed off, regardless of the truths the rest of your body spills.

“It’s quite alright, darling. It’s normal. Creatures of the night are hardly meant to be trifled with.”

He’s in your face now, a mere hair’s length away, once again baring his teeth. Against your lips, you can feel the movement of his words pushing through the air, coating you in further reluctance as the withheld breath inside you finally releases. As it hits his face, he blinks and pulls away. Ever so slightly giving you the space you need to recollect your thoughts and swallow back the fear.

He’s terrifying. Even you have to admit that. Unlike Lae’zel he’s more calculated in his intimidation, opting to pull you in —to make you feel comfortable— before he ultimately strikes. Because of this, his threats feel more authentic. Less like simple tactics used to get you to back off. They aren’t words of warning —they’re promises. Declarations of a moment he’s more than willing to make a reality if given the chance.

“Do you want my blood or not, Astarion?”

Your patience is thin. Your chest is in pain and while the tadpole inside unwittingly reaches out to his, driving you both closer as he instructs you to lie back down and get comfortable, all you can feel is temptation. Desire.

Upon resting your head, you feel the connection between you grow stronger. Inside, your head flashes with icy sensations that trickle down towards your neck. Small tremors of what’s to come as Astarion positions himself around you.

When he leans down, there’s a moment where you think of retracting. This is all too sudden, you think. A mistake made in hopes of gaining the upper hand. Just moments ago you were made unaware of the full potential of Astarion’s charms, but now that you’re lying beneath him, awaiting the moment he sinks his teeth into your flesh, you can feel the regret begin to build.

“It won’t last.”

Pulling yourself from your thoughts, you look to see him staring over top of you. Both of his arms are planted on either side of your head, bending at the elbow so that he’s low and close. “I’m sorry?”

“The pain. It won’t last long, I promise.”

Strangely enough, he sounds sincere. Not that that means much when a good portion of the words that exit his lips are lies. Still though, instead of returning to that previous headspace you merely breathe and nod, waiting for the moment the tadpole’s connection vibrates with confirmation and Astarion begins to lean in.

It’s a slow process. Above you, his shoulders shift, pushing his arm to cup the back of your head and expose your neck. Against your skull, Astarion tightens his grip to steady the endless thoughts that race through your mind as you share a glance. It’s small but important. A moment of recognition that tonight is not the night you die at his hand, but merely a preview of what might come if your paths wrongfully cross.

At the last second, you give him a curt nod and feel him dip, running the tip of his tongue along your jugular before the presence of teeth poke holes through your flesh. At first, it's painful. The blood that’s sucked through your veins pulsates through the open wound in stinging waves as you feign a soft groan. Then Astarion’s grip around your head tightens at the sound, pushing you further into his mouth. Further into the euphoria he takes as the feeling transcends into something numbingly cold.

Your eyes flutter shut at his continued feed. The feeling in your hands begins to fade even as you somehow find them moving to Astarion’s back, one of them pressing against his shoulder, the other finding purchase in his locks. At that point, you can feel Astarion moan against you, desperation filling his every cell as his teeth shift further into your neck, prompting your eyes to shoot open.

He’s going to kill you at this rate. To drink you drier than an insect's husk, so, through half-conscious pushes, you tell him to stop. To let go and to keep his promise as you grip the roots of his hair and pull.

As it happens you see his eyes shift to yours. They’re blown out completely, the whites of his eyes stained red to match his ruby pupils. For a moment, they remain locked to your half-lidded ones, honing in on the way they start to flutter again before you see them tightly close. Then he finds himself ripping away and gasping for air. Coughing through the thick blood that coats his tongue as he stares down at your neck.

The wound is only slightly gaping. Two well-defined puncture wounds sit side by side, but at the moment you can’t feel them. Instead, there’s still only numbness. A space of nothing that lingers between your head and chest, making you shift to sit up and place your hand there, finding more blood.

“See? Over before you know it, right?” He laughs but all you do is glare.

“You almost killed me.”

“Ah, yes, but notice the key word being almost.”

If you weren’t so heavy-headed you’d punch him in the throat. Maybe strangle him if you could get the right angle. “Yes, fine, you’ve had your fun. Now, do you need anything else or am I fine to pass out now?”

You expect him to say something else. To make some quip about the safety measures of post-bloodsucking, but he doesn’t. Instead, he merely inches closer, staring at you as he reaches for your bloodied hand and pulls it close.

Once again, your tadpole wriggles against your will. Throughout your skull, it practically dances as Astarion glances down, taking two of your fingers into his mouth with careful precision. If anyone were to see they’d most likely faint at the mere lewdness of it. Frozen in time, your body refuses to move as he laps the blood off your skin, staring at you through hooded eyes that make you want to scream.

You’ve never been in this kind of position before. Sure, you’ve experienced many kinds of intimacy, both sexual and not, but somehow this feels different. Forbidden, in a sense. As if sharing this moment is not only wrong but also against some sort of ethical code.

At first, you wonder if it’s because blood isn’t necessarily something that’s given. Always taken. In battle, it’s ripped from your skin through the means of injury. Punctured or sliced out of you at the hands of a sword. No bond goes along with it. No mutual agreement that any life will remain once the deed is over.

But then you begin to think of Astarion. The elven vampire now infected with the Illithid. Like you, he’s been changed. Subtly shifted into something new. Overall, your transformation isn’t nearly as different as his. Before the infection, you could still enjoy the pleasantries of being human, but still, there’s this connection that draws you towards him. It makes its presence known within the tadpole. Throughout the movements that echo in your minds as Astarion cleans the last of the blood away, looking at you with soft eyes.

“I consider this a gift, you know,” he says, dropping your hand, and moving away to stand without so much as a thought.

You blink back your confusion, trying your best to focus on the genuine-looking smile that appears as he takes a few steps backwards, never breaking eye contact until he telepathically adds I won’t forget it then stalks away.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x reader #astarion x you #baldur’s gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fan fic #bg3 fan fic #haunted hoedown #writing challenge #summer writes

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juneofdoom · 2 months

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What up, whump fam?!

June of Doom 2024 Prompts!

We've brought back some old favorites/ popular prompts from last year with a healthy dash of new!

Please feel free to participate with original or fan works of any kind (writing, photos, gifs, mood boards, videos, songs, whatever creative medium your heart desires!). You can do one or all of the prompts on any given day, and if none are to your liking, check out the alternate prompts!

Two rules this year!

As with last year, tag your stuff with appropriate warnings, plzkthnx.

AI-created content is highly discouraged and frowned upon. I have no way of "checking", but I respect the time and effort people put into their crafts and encourage everyone to do the same. This isn't a contest for best written or prettiest art — it's a challenge, so challenge yourself.

Text list below the cut for easier crossings-off. And don't forget to tag @juneofdoom so I can reblog your awesome here! Have fun!

“Help me.” | Failed Escape | On the Run | Fetal Position |

“It didn’t have to be this way.” | Scream | Double Cross | Made to Watch |

“Well, well, well…” | Hiding | Ambushed | Stalking |

“Does that hurt?” | Impalement | Fracture | Punishment |

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” | Bite | Swelling | Disfiguration |

“They don’t care about you.” | Flinch | Broken Promise | Abandoned |

“What happened?” | Nightmare | Isolation | Stumbling |

“This is your last chance.” | Drowning | Chair | Prisoner Trade |

“I made a mistake.” | Accident | Acceptance | Blame |

“Can you hear me?” | Fear | Smoke | Phone Call |

“We’re out of time.” | Bleeding Out | Collapse | Flatline |

“I can’t stand seeing you like this.” | Dehydration | Grief | Coma |

“Wait!” | Sacrifice | Adrenaline | Cornered |

“What were you thinking?” | Surrender | Human Shield | Outmatched |

“Get me out of here!” | Rescue | Chainsaw | Presumed Dead |

“At least it can’t get any worse.” | Secret | Stranded | Setback |

“You don’t want to do that.” | Struggle | Blackmail | Desperate Measures |

“I’m fine.” | Self-defense | Allergies | Headache |

“This can’t be happening!” | Sobbing | Straitjacket | Dissociation |

“I can handle it.” | Scrape | Panic Attack | Neglect |

“Let’s play a game. “ | Stairs | Pressure Points | Trap Door |

“What’s the bad news?” | Poison | Bedridden | Cauterization |

“You’re doing great.” | Trembling | Gaslighting | Rules |

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” | Blankets | Stitches | Bandages |

“I should have listened to you.” | Guilt | Backseat | Failure |

“Don’t lie to me.” | Rage | Choke | Paranoia |

“Or what?” | Defiance | Display | Last Resort |

“Say something.” | Numb | Cold Shoulder | Gag |

“I’m so cold.” | Delirium | Fever | Exposure |

“Breathe, damn you!” | Shock | Asphyxiation | Emergency Room |

ALTERNATE PROMPTS

“Who did this to you?”

“Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not okay.”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“You poor thing.”

Attending Your Own Funeral

Broken Glass

Mask

Whip

Obedience

#june of doom 2024 #june of doom #juneofdoom #masterlist #whump writing #whump stuff #summer of whump #whump things #whump prompts #writing prompts #whump #masterpost #writing challenge #events #whump event #whump community #whumblr

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zelphin124 · 8 months

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SeasonTale Creative Challenge

PLEASE REBLOG SO EVERYONE CAN SEE THIS!

Art and Design by PrinceTal

Greetings, Artists, Voice Actors, and Writers! It is I, Zelphin, and I am hosting an (annual?) competition! Introducing the first year of the SeasonTale Creative Challenge!

This is a competition to express your creative talents by contributing to SeasonTale for a cash prize! There are three ways to participate: Art, Voice Acting, and Writing! Contribute some time to use one of the three involving SeasonTale to enter the challenge for the prize!

DEADLINE IS NOV 15th, 2023, 12:00 AM (GMT-6)

my birthday hehe~

Winners will be announced on December 1st!

Updates are in #scc info

Scroll down for details!

Rules

It must be a SeasonTale Sans. (I might do other characters from SeasonTale another year)

You MUST tag #SeasonTale Challenge and @zelphin124 in the post so I can see it! Or DM me on Discord!

You CAN do more than one submission (one per Sans for VA, two for writing)

You CAN do the Season Sanses interacting with OCs or popular Sanses, get creative!

DIFFERENT/SIMPLER OUTFITS ARE ALLOWED! I know they are a pain to draw...

You CANNOT steal/copy from other creators!

Please keep all content PG-13

Payments will be made via PayPal (unless negotiated otherwise)

Specific rules within the Google doc!

Prizes

All prizes are in USD currency!

Artists

First place: $55

Second place: $35

Third place: $20

VAs and Writers

First place: $40

Second place: $30

Third place: $20

Prompts

Summer flirting with literally anyone

Particularly a feisty character

Spring cooking with Swap/Horror

Spring loves cooking Japanese Ramen

Autumn being a gremlin, as usual

Usually being feisty while training or hissing at a cat (he’s scared of cats)

Winter meeting your OC/you in the snowy mountains of SeasonTale

The Four Sanses in a training session

The four Sanses exploring a new AU

Spring comforting someone

Summer flirting with someone

Autumn getting frustrated at someone being annoying and telling them to go away

Winter is an awkward teddy bear trying to organize something

Ft. Iro!Sans for a female character/female voice actors!

Make something up! Be creative! Have fun!

Need more details? Here's the Google Doc:

References

Art and Design PrinceTal

Oh and Iro!Sans

HAVE FUN! I'm so excited to see what you all come up with!

Been dying to do this for a long time~

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pan-flute-skeleton · 23 days

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Metalocalypse OC Week 2024!

Are you folks ready for another 🎸🎸🎸 prompt challenge? I know I am! What better way to start the summer months than interacting and celebrating all the diverse fan characters of Metalocalypse. From old friends to new friends to characters you've had your eye on for quite some time, this is Original Character (OC) Week.

This is your chance to make that art, write that fic or any other creative expression involving your OCs. We all share the sandbox so this is also your chance to mingle with other creators to make something epic. Don't be shy! From personal experience, messaging someone with a character I'd like to utilize helps the process.

Use any character you like whether they are well established or new on the scene. But most importantly, have fun. Can't wait to see what everyone comes up with and keep an eye out.

Many thanks to @mnikhowozu for the visuals.

Plain text:

June 3 - June 9

Day 1 Duncan Hills run

Day 2 Fankids, Fanparents and Fan-mily

Day 3 Style Swap

Day 4 Flirty OR Friendly Banter

Day 5 Long Distance

Day 6 Social Media Trend

#metalocalypse #mtl oc #original character #writing challenge #art challenge #character creation #new character #Summer kickoff #MTL OC WEEK 2024 #dethklok #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #willam murderface #dick knubbler #charles foster offdensen #abigail remeltindtdrinc #magnus hammersmith

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imagining-in-the-margins · 10 months

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☀️ CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge 🏖

The following are prompts including the theme of Summer! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed!

This event is over (Masterlist of Fics here), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

☀️ Generic Prompts ☀️

Everyone looks better in a sundress.

Character doesn't know how to swim.

Characters A and B cuddle in a hammock.

The team has a (MASSIVE) family barbecue.

The BAU has a pool party at Rossi's vacation home.

The sun makes Characters sleepy, so they take a nap.

Characters A and B have a picnic (it goes well/wrong).

Character shows up in swimwear that no one expected.

Character A suffers heatstroke and B takes care of them.

Character A teases B about needing to practice CPR at the pool party.

Character A never loved B more than when they ran through the sprinklers.

The air conditioning broke and Characters try to find creative ways to cool off.

Characters A and B go berry picking together (and enjoy the fruits of their labor).

It's Character's first time camping and they weren't prepared for how cold it gets on summer nights.

Character A lectures B on the importance of sunscreen, yet freezes when they are asked to help apply it.

The BAU is a group of very serious FBI agents. They take their water gun/balloon fights very seriously.

The couple thought their vacation would be a chance to get away from the BAU, but the resort town they're staying in turns out to have an unsub in it.

Character helps their child with their first entrepreneurial venture... a lemonade stand. They weren't expecting half the damn FBI to show up.

Character A’s wide-brimmed hat flew right off their head and into a tree. B helps them get it down.

Anything else you can think of!

☀️ Dialogue Prompts ☀️

"It's like Hotch at the beach."

"Come on in, the water's fine."

"It's so hot but I am so touch starved."

"... How did you even get that tan line?"

“Yes, the sunburn is as bad as it looks.”

"Oh my god, do I hear the ice cream truck?"

"Next Summer, we're doing the Alaskan cruise."

"It's a million degrees outside, why are you in the hot tub?"

(sarcastic) “Feels just like the summer camps of my youth.”

"I am staying hydrated. All of my drinks are iced." "That does not count."

"There is no shame in using a pool floatie." "Yes, there is. I'm shaming you."

“You look hot.” “Thank you!” “No, I mean literally… I think you’re overheating.”

(lying) "My phone doesn't work on the beach. Must be the signal or something..."

☀️ Character Specific Prompts ☀️

Spencer: He learned from the last time a beautiful person pulled him into a pool.

Spencer: He has a degree in engineering. How can he be defeated by a sandcastle?

Spencer: "I don't really like the beach... Sandy food, pink skin, limited and unengaging topography, but mostly drug-resistant bacteria spread by seagull feces.”

Luke: Reader loves to go to the dog beach to look at cute puppies. A dog named Roxy takes special interest in them.

Tara/Emily: “And what did you do with your summer vacation, Emily Prentiss?”

☀️ NSFW Prompts ☀️ 18+ ONLY ☀️

Character gets caught skinny dipping.

Character A can't get out of the water after seeing B.

Sex on the beach is so much worse than everyone said.

Character A can't deal with how much B loves popsicles/ice cream cones.

It's too hot to wear clothes at home, so Character walks around in their underwear.

Character A finally convinces B to go to the beach with them. Turns out it's a nude beach.

Rules

The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character.

Tag me in the fic, or send it to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it just for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

🏖 Happy Writing! 🏖

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miss-americana-reputation · 11 months

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a/n- haven’t wrote for eddie in such a long time but i needed to do this omg. thanks for the lovely @oneforthemunny for this.

the prompt i chose- 🦀- eddie's sunburnt. he refuses to wear sunscreen and now he's burnt. how do you take care of him? how does he let you? coddle him, baby him, bitch him out and tell him "I told you so" the choice is yours lol.

mafia!eddie x reader

fluff, eddie is a stubborn bitch, cussing, he lightly spanks her, and a bit of petty reader. please use sunscreen this summer

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“let me.” i say, holding the bottle of aloe vera in my hand. “no.” he pouts. “it’ll make it not hurt.” i state. “i’ll be fine.” he shrugs. “eddie.” i state.

“it’s not that big of a deal.” he shrugs. “you could have cancer.” i point out. “why didn’t you use sunscreen?” i ask. “it was your idea to have a pool day.” he points out. “and? you’re a grown man. you should’ve used sunscreen.” i point out.

“i didn’t think i would get sunburned.” he says. “oh, because your a big bad mafia guy? the suns afraid of you?” i tease. he shoots me a very disinterested look and i smile at him.

“please, let me. it’ll make it feel better, not as itchy and painful.” i answer. “fine.” he gives in. he’s shirtless and he sits down on the edge of the couch and i kneel behind him.

i squirt some of the gel onto my fingers and rub some onto his upper back. “feel better?” i ask after a moment. he just shrugs and i put some more onto his back. i rub it all over the area, his back and shoulders, with a bit of his neck.

“it’s gonna peel probably.” i explain. “i’ll help, don’t worry.” i kiss his now sticky shoulder. “okay.” he nods. i softly massage his shoulder until i pull away. “eddie.” i whisper softly, mumbling it against the side of his face. “yes kitten?” he smiles. “please wear sunscreen.” i state.

“i’ll do it. only for you.” he promises. he softly takes my hand and holds it. “i love you.” i say softly, kissing his temple. “i love you.” he melts into my touch.

we stay there for a moment, resting against each other. his large hands keeping mine inside of his.

“does it feel better?” i ask. “a little bit.” he nods. “eddie.” i sigh. he softly laughs, getting cut off by me playfully slapping his sunburn. i laugh at the noise made and as he tenses up.

before i realize it, he has me flipped onto my stomach with my hands held behind my back. “i’m sorry. eddie.” i giggle. “wanna slap it?” he says with a heavy playful tone, he fails to not show his amusement. “does it feel good?” he smiles as he playfully slaps my ass.

“eddie!” i say as he lets me flip around. i’m now looking up at him, caging me in. “you’re a little sun kissed, huh? got some freckles.” he smiles at me. “you have some.” i point out. “not as cute as yours.” he says and softly kisses me.

————

have a fun summer :)

#munnysummergame #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #mafia au #mafia!eddie munson #mafia!eddie #mafia!eddie x reader #writing challenge #summer #he’s so babygirl

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winchestersheaven · 2 months

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me: i’m gonna read Rodney McKay fics

fandom: we have lots of McShep

me: McShep is good, i like that ship

me: so, McShep fics with Rodney feels, please

fandom: sure thing, lots of Rodney feels here 😇

fandom: *bombards me with unexpected John feels*

me: hey, uh. why is my heart all fucked up?

#don't get me wrong i love it #but it is not what i signed up for x'D #i fell so gd hard for Rodney when i watched Atlantis and while i really enjoyed other characters too (John included)#Rodney was the one i just did not want to let go and the one i really wanted to read #so since McShep is a fairly big ship that i did like i figured it was easier to go there than to find Rodney heavy fics based on tags alone #and now here i am with a ton of John feels i wasn't planning on (and a brand new otp...)#Smowkie talks #McShep #John Sheppard #Rodney McKay #i'm planning a couple of McShep fic rec posts btw #(the fic that made me write this post included)#not sure when but they are coming. at least two of them #i've read a lot lately and i've actually mostly remember to save the faves so i can share them which feels very nice #i love fic rec posts but i've always been horribly bad at making them myself #but after that summer reading challenge i've gotten better at it and i'm hoping it can result in some future fic rec posts #well it will result in at least two for McShep xD

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nocturna-iv · 10 months

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August Challenge 2023

Week 1

“Technically, it’s not illegal.”

Observe.

Flowers in my hair and demons in my head.

Bullets.

“Is it possible to love too much?”

Magic Curse.

“I don’t need luck; I have ammunition.”

Bonus:

Library.

“I don’t regret anything.”

Meaningful glances.

Week 2

Share.

If you’re excited to think about it, imagine doing it.

Tea.

“I would like you to stay.”

Paralyzing Poison.

“There can’t be someone so good.”

Appropriate.

Bonus:

Coffee Shop.

“Bestow upon me a smile.”

Pretend to be Allies.

Week 3

It’s difficult to be unpleasant by accident.

Bottles.

“I can’t concentrate without you here.”

Mind Control.

“No matter what I want.”

Bite.

The sunset is the dawn of those who work in the shadows.

Bonus:

Boulevard.

“You possess innate talent.”

Infiltrate in Disguise.

Week 4

Appetizer.

“Would you reconsider your answer if I wasn’t drunk?”

Body Swap.

“Don’t touch what is not yours.”

Devour.

In feelings, the most difficult thing is to coincide.

Honey.

Bonus:

Casino.

“I adore you.”

Devil’s Advocate.

Week 5

“My thoughts... wander as we dance like this.”

Kiss or Death.

The truth.

Bonus:

Office.

“Are you using my cologne?”

The calm before the storm.

#monthly challenge #august challenge #august prompts #challenge prompt #writing prompt #prompt list #dialogue inspiration #dialogue prompt #writing challenge #story prompt #story ideas #monthly prompts list #summer prompts #art prompts #drawing prompts #writing ideas #prompts #writers on tumblr #31 days of

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tripleyeeet · 8 months

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THE ROGUE TAX (2)

SUMMARY: Fed up with paying Astarion to pick all the locks, you force yourself to learn the hard way.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader (reads as Gender Neutral but future chapters will be femme focused, just a heads up!)

WORD COUNT: 2,635

WARNINGS: Short nightmare sequence, too much sexual tension, slight mentions of a handkink, inappropriate lock pick teaching.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I'm posting these super early but day two of the Haunted Hoedown! This time the prompt is "finders keepers!" I honestly had so much fun with this one, so hopefully all the new Astarion fans that've followed me in the last day enjoy? Love you guys. :))))

Also I was originally going to make all of these challenge fics separate but I've since decided to make it more of a connected fic so... that's a thing now? I'll link the last chapter below!

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

“I wasn’t aware you were so proficient at lock picking.”

You smirk at Astarion’s false praise, busying your hands against the lock’s mechanism. You’ve only been at it for five or six, maybe seven tops but you can already tell it’ll be a while. The lock itself is tough; covered in a layer of thick rust. Plus, being that it’s a chest and not a door, it’s a bit more advanced than you’re used to.

“Yes, well, not all of us are vampires that can woo their way through a padlock.”

In response, Astarion laughs, throwing his head back so dramatically that from the corner of your eye, it looks as if he’s lost his head for a moment. “You do realize who you’re talking to, correct?”

You hum out a response and push the short hook further in, feeling the pressure of a loose pin hit the end. When that happens, you grin to yourself and slide closer to the chest, biting your bottom lip in excitement.

Over the last few weeks, you and the rest of the group had come upon some interesting findings. A cave inside a well, a few hidden cellars around the surrounding the goblin camp, a hidden chest or two. At first, it was exciting, getting to experience the joys of a good treasure hunt but quickly such feelings fell once you discovered how difficult it was to break into said things without the help of Astarion and his seemingly magic hands.

“I know you’re excited to prove yourself, darling, but why don’t you let me finish things off, hm? It’ll go a lot quicker.”

You shake your head and continue your ministrations, carefully pushing the hook further in, feeling that alleviated pressure of another pin. “I’m tired of relying on you and your bloody rogue tax.”

After agreeing that Astarion would just pick every lock your party found for a price, it was evident he was more than willing to take more than he was owed. Saying things like I did all the work or you wouldn’t be here if not for me, it was obvious he was exploiting you. Using his roguish charms to earn himself a bigger cut despite doing next to nothing else.

It was frustrating, to say the least. Another minor annoyance to add to his long list of negative personality traits, and lately you were determined to combat it. To learn the trade for yourself so that every piece of treasure found could remain solely yours.

“I’m sure everyone is but that’s the price you pay for a professional.”

You roll your eyes and continue to fiddle, feeling his gaze glued to the positioning of your hands —how your fingers tighten and twist around the metal instrument.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you at least a little bit nervous —having his eyes on you. Across your palms, you can feel the slick of sweat collecting with each new movement, while behind you, you can practically feel Astarion’s judgement throughout, silently picking apart all of your mistakes.

“You’re doing—“

You shush him angrily before he can continue, knowing he’s trying to break your concentration. Knowing that he thinks that if he can prove to be enough of a distraction you’ll end up slipping up and giving in.

“I was just going to tell you about the wonderful job you’re doing.” His tone is laced with sarcasm. Drenched in a thick layer of impatience that has you groaning under your breath.

“Isn’t there someone else you can bother?”

“No.”

You know there is. In the other room of the abandoned building you currently find yourselves in, at least four other people are rooting through the rubble. Most likely they’re stationed in their usual areas. Gale’s probably next to the stack of bookshelves with Karlach, telling her all about his collection back at the camp while Wyll and Shadowheart are searching through the cellar in hopes of more wine.

“You sure?”

For a moment you debate telling him to go keep watch with Lae’zel just so that he’ll shut up but the thought dissipates once you feel him flop onto the floor beside you with a groan.

“Everyone else is so dull,” he complains. His line of slight flickers between your face and hands, watching the way they remain almost too still as he speaks. “They’re all do this do that, and for what?”

You shrug your shoulders ever so slightly, unsure of what he means.

“They’re all living for other people, darling. Other causes. Everything they do serves a higher purpose and for that reason alone, they’re boring.”

Despite your previous determination your hands release themselves from the padlock before you find yourself readjusting —moving to plop down next to him. “You think everyone’s boring because they’re selfless?”

“Predictable,” he corrects, pointing a loose finger in your direction. “All of them talk too much about a future that may not even come considering we’re infected and have little idea on how to remedy the situation.”

You’re not sure where this rant is coming from but you welcome it considering it’s been weeks since you’ve had a normal conversation that didn’t revolve around mapping or looting or combat. Weeks since you’ve taken a moment to learn about the people you find yourself in constant contact with.

“Some people just don’t like looking back.”

There’s a hint of surprise in his eyes when you respond as if he wasn’t expecting such an answer. Or really, maybe an answer at all. All at once his face seems to rise in thought, taking a moment to absorb the words before he hums in response, pursing his lips. “Yes, well, I suppose some people don’t have a past worth running from.”

What’s that supposed to mean?

The tadpole behind your eye wriggles for his attention before you can even think to suppress it. Working to pull him in as you stare at one another, narrowing your eyes at the sudden cerebral contact. At first, he’s reluctant. You can feel the pushing sensation suggesting that you stop. That you should stick to the confines of your own mind rather than pestering him, but quicker than you can move away to agree, it’s as if you’re sucked back in again. Pulled by the very thread of your own brain matter to see flashes of a life you assume to be his.

The first thing you see is candlelight. A flickering of warm hues that dance across wooden interiors. It’s almost dizzying the way the light shifts across your vision, forcing you to close your eyes. Next to you, you can hear Astarion breathing heavily. Deep inhales followed by even deeper exhales that you swiftly use as a metronome to carry your focus. To aid your tadpole’s connection.

Swallowing hard, you listen to the beats of his breath, feeling them take over your chest as the vision in front of you grows to reveal bits of cobblestone. In the background, you can hear the faint sounds of scuttling feet. The dripping of water. A hungry growl followed by an even hungrier gnaw of flesh that squelches on your tongue.

You can taste the iron —feel the fur and bones of an unknown animal brush against your lips and gums. All of it swirls around your mouth like a tornado of overstimulating sensations, forcing the vision to pass as you reach for your throat, coughing up nothing but your own spit despite how real it feels.

It’s apparent then what Astarion means. That some people aren’t always blessed with the privilege of running away. That people like him don’t have the means of calling upon allies to aid them through the awful shit that is reality.

Even with such little context, you can sense through his tadpole that he’s alone in this life. Alone before the Illithid —alone now. And more than likely, he’ll be alone after it’s all over, in death or otherwise.

Rubbing your throat —trying your best to get rid of the tainted feeling of skin and bone from your mouth, you feel empathy rather than sympathy. An understanding of his words as you look toward him, noticing the far-off look in his eye before he blinks and travels back.

“I only showed you that to save the explanation,” he says, and whether or not it’s true you merely just nod, welcoming the silence. The tranquil hush of two people attempting to navigate the other.

It doesn’t last long. In between, there are a few moments of background noise. The sound of echoing footsteps and muffled voices. You know it’s the others looting just as you should be, but neither of you moves to join until Astarion eventually clears his throat, signalling change.

“Anyway, they’re all in their own worlds, coasting on the wings of optimism.” He flicks his hand around the air while rolling his eyes. “It’s disgusting and partly why I choose your company above theirs.”

Letting yourself fall back into your usual, somewhat antagonistic rhythm, you give him a curious look. “Partly, huh?”

“Don’t get too excited,” he quips, the edge of his lip twitching into that usual grin of his. “The other part is the potential of your blood, darling.”

“Ah yes. And here I was assuming you were just following me around so that you could steal my treasure.”

Both of your eyes move back to the unbroken padlock. It’s the only thing in this room that seems to be worth either of your time and Astarion knows it. It’s why he’s been so keen on your failure.

“You know, I could help you if you like. Show you a thing or two so that the next time this happens you don’t have to rely on me.”

It’s tempting, even if you know that you’ll be taxed to all hell. Whatever spoils you find will ultimately be cut in half and, more than likely, he’ll sweeten the deal for himself by claiming first pick.

“What’s the price?”

He shoots you a look of offence, clutching his chest. “My dear, I’d never dare put a price on the education of thievery.”

You hold back a grin, pressing your lips together, watching the way he quickly springs into action, motioning for you to hand him your tools. When you do he begins to explain the process, showcasing all the tips and tricks against the air with careful precision. Which would be helpful if you weren’t so focused on his hands rather than his words. On the way they curl around the handles of your tools, tightening with every gesture performed.

Astarion’s got nicer hands than most. Long and thin and surprisingly well-manicured for someone who spends most of his time in the forest or drinking the blood of unsuspecting animals. And guiltily enough staring at them so intently just reminds you of that night he drained your neck.

You can still feel the pressure of his fingers against your head. The way they roughly cupped you like a goblet of wine. Despite the fear in that moment, you’re now able to look back at that memory almost fondly. A moment of potential weakness for you somehow became a moment of trust for him and as a result, here you were now, acting almost friendly amid a terrible situation.

It makes you grin, prompting Astarion to stop his explanation and narrow his eyes.

“Are you even listening?”

“Hm?”

There’s a knowing glance that befalls his face then. A transition of clarity that has his mouth opening and closing before he hands you your tools. “Might be best if we take a more hands on approach.”

You look at him confused, letting the hooks in your hand lazily rest in your palm as you watch him hop to his knees and begin to guide you.

“I want you to do exactly what you were doing before, alright? Use the hook to push the pins.”

Despite your continued confusion, you follow his position by kneeling in front of the chest and popping the hook into the hole, digging around the darkened space until you feel the shift of that first pin.

“Got it?” You spare him a glance and a nod, watching him crawl towards you, positioning his chest firmly against your back before reaching out to hold your wrists. “Now, take that other hook of yours and situate it at the base of the barrel.”

Doing exactly that, you feel his fingers slowly slip over yours, navigating you through the trials of getting that second pin to shift as the barrel turns in your grasp. At first, it’s difficult. Mostly because all you can focus on is the breath that hits the side of your face. The heat of the air that travels down your spine in nervous waves you’re almost certain he can feel. But then you’re reminded that you’ve been here before; stuck within his heated grasp.

“That’s it. Just like that.”

You’re practically holding your breath as you find that third pin, feeling Astarion’s hand shift you in the right direction before you lose it at the last second. Ever so gently, his chest shifts upwards against your back so that he can rest his chin on your shoulder to get a better look. A newfound weight that makes you close your eyes and release a bit of air from your nose, realizing how intimate this is.

Somehow it feels even more personal than letting him feed off of you. Perhaps because the bloodsucking was for his own benefit, knowing Astarion, moments like that where he’s able to take rather than give mean next to nothing to him. They’re just moments of manipulation. A series of tactical steps he takes to get whatever he wants whereas this is different. This is for you.

You’re not sure how to describe it other than an offering of trust. Maybe it’s a token of appreciation for letting him consume. Maybe it’s nothing more than a game to make you squirm beneath his grasp. Either or, it’s an experience you know you’ll be thinking of for days to come, attempting to decipher its intent.

“Once you feel that final pin I want you to ease it in gently, alright? Be delicate.”

You offer him no response as you listen to his words. If you did, you’re certain he’d make some offhand comment that would only further the lewdness of it all, grinning like the mischievous prick he is.

“After that, you should feel a little shift and —voilà!”

The chest clicks open. Your breath releases in a long, much-needed stream but Astarion makes no effort to move from your frame. Instead, he continues to cling to your hands, angling his chin so that when you eventually look at him you’re practically touching noses.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“It’s that easy?”

Slowly but surely he slips from your frame with a nod, his hands sliding across the expanse of your sleeves, coating your skin in a wave of goosebumps as he moves to stand. “Yes, but keep it hush, hush. Wouldn’t want the others to find out, would we?”

You shake your head, a small smile creeping across your lips as you then turn towards your reward, gripping both edges of the lid before pushing it up. Inside there are only a few items. A few spell scrolls and some fabric but it’s enough to get you excited regardless, realizing that it’s yours.

“Not bad for your first go.” Peeking over your shoulder, Astarion watches as you sift through everything carefully, unrolling each scroll to read the details before looking back up and raising a brow.

“You sure there’s no tax?” you ask, but all he does is laugh and shake his head.

“Finders keepers, darling. As I promised.”

#the rogue tax #baldur's gate 3 fan fic #bg3 fan fic #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #haunted hoedown #haunted hoedown writing challenge #summer writes

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juneofdoom · 1 year

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For anybody looking to do more whump in June, some fellow whump fans encouraged me to make a prompt list!

My only rule is that you tag your stuff with proper warnings, plzkthnx.

And don't forget to tag your entries with #juneofdoom so I can reblog them here! Have fun!

[TEXT LIST HERE]

[AO3 COLLECTION]

#juneofdoom #whump writing #whump stuff #summer of whump #whump things #whump prompts #writing prompts #whump #masterpost #writing challenge #june of doom #events #whump event #whump community #masterlist

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wanderingelvis · 10 months

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WanderingElvis' Summer Writing Challenge! 🧚

So.... I'm gonna give myself a target of posting 30 pieces of written content about Elvis by the beginning of September! It might be an imagine, a chapter of Sparkly Little Thing or a headcanon, but whatever it is, it'll be Elvis themed!

I have some drafts ready for posting, but if you have any requests, my inbox is open too - go wild!! I'm really excited about this, I want to post stuff that I'm proud of and I want to be more consistent too! 🧚

I'll post each new bit of writing here too like a mini-masterlist, but it'll always be on my actual Masterlist too! 1. HEADCANON: The way Elvis interacts with Innocent F!Reader in public

2. HEADCANON: You and 70s!Elvis have a controversial age gap but his opinion is the only one you care about

3. Alternate Ending: After giving Innocent!Reader her first orgasm, Elvis watches her fall into little space

4. One of the Memphis Mafia's friends tries to take advantage of Innocent!F Reader

#writing challenge #creative writing #elvis #elvis writing challenge #wanderingelvis writing challenge #summer writes #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley #elvis x y/n #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis fluff #elvis smut

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bandomsummer · 4 months

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BSB? What's that?

I'm glad you asked! BSB or Bandom Summer Blowout started as a big bang challenge (and that's still how it's run), but we also added a solo writing option last year!

That means you can sign up as a big bang writer and get paired up with a creator who will make art, compile a playlist, or write a companion fic for your work or you can join us and challenge yourself to finally write or finish your fic with the support of other writers.

Join our discord, sign up as a writer, or check out more info by following the links below!

Challenge Rules | Schedule | FAQs | Information for Writers

P. S. Creator sign-ups will be open April 1st - 14th!

#fob #fall out boy #mcr #my chemical romance #ls dunes #patd #bandom #fandom event #writing challenge #bsb #bandom summer blowout

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barnesafterglow · 2 years

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a misunderstanding

summary: a misunderstanding and a revelation change the tide of your relationship with bucky

pairing: 40s!bucky x reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: this got mildly angsty and i didn't mean to, bucky is lowkey a fuckboy (or is he?), happy ending, steve as comedic relief

a/n: here is day 1 of my sweet summer writing challenge! i know it's a little early but also i took several extra requests so i figured i'd go ahead and get started :) prompt for this one is “it must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.”

main masterlist ─ challenge masterlist

i no longer have a taglist, but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary and turn on post notifications to get fic updates! 🤍

The crackling sound of the record player filled the small apartment, accompanied by your soft steps to the beat along the kitchen tile.

You continued stirring the pot on the stove, cutting it down to simmer when a knock sounded at your front door. You wiped your hands off on the apron tied around your waist and cut the knob down in the tinkering jazz as you passed it, stepping towards the door and pulling it open.

“Hey there, doll,” said the man on the other side. Not the one you were expecting.

“Where’s Steve?” you asked, trying your best not to sound annoyed. It would only fuel his ego.

Bucky Barnes was, in no uncertain terms, an insufferable blockhead. But it just so happened that you shared a best friend, and it remained in your best interest not to chuck him in the East River. For now.

“Got caught up with Mrs. Johnson. She wanted a new mural painted on the front window and we ran into her on our way here. He shouldn’t be too long.”

Which, in Steve terms, meant dinner would probably be cold before his perfectionist ass had painted the perfect picture of bread or milk or whatever other sale the Johnsons wanted to advertise this week. It also meant that you were stuck in Bucky’s presence for the evening, because Steve would hand him his ass if he left you alone after you had spent the afternoon cooking.

Not to mention that, even though it was supposed to just be Steve tonight, you had already made extras for the very likely possibility that Bucky tagged along. He didn’t seem to be aware of the animosity between the two of you, though you couldn’t ever forget the harsh words that had changed your attitude towards him forever.

It had been a couple years, you had just gotten off your shift at the bar on the corner and you were supposed to meet Steve and Bucky for a late dinner. You hadn’t been friends with them long, only a couple of months, but it had been long enough that you were surprised to see that Bucky didn’t have a girl hanging off his arm.

That’s usually how your meetups went - Steve looking happy to see you and Bucky focusing solely on the unlucky dame who would wind up with a broken heart the morning after. But that night was different, with no one but your two friends in sight as you shuffled down the street, pulling your ragged coat tighter around you as the New York winter picked up. Bucky’s back was facing you, so he didn’t see you approach, and you caught the tail end of his rant.

“-always fucking everything up! I don’t see why you even bother with her anymore.” He sounded angry, nothing like the usual laid back and charming James Barnes, and you knew without a doubt that he was talking about you.

Instead of interrupting their conversation, you brushed past them on the sidewalk, practically shouldering Bucky out of your way. He called after you, but you kept walking without a word. You didn’t see either of them again for a week, and by then you were resigned to act like it never happened. You never spoke of it again, even when Steve asked you over and over again what had happened between you and Bucky.

You figured neither one of them thought you were close enough to have overheard Bucky’s insult, and that’s why their thick heads couldn’t figure what might have changed that night.

“-any help?” You were brought back to the present by Bucky’s voice, right in front of your face, and you realized you had no idea what he had said.

“Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you needed any help, doll. Can’t let my best girl do all the work herself.” He winked at you, and for the first time since that night, his casual flirting made you see red.

“It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” Though your face carried a sickeningly sweet smile, the sharp tone in your voice must have thrown Bucky off. You didn’t dwell on it, though, simply brushing past him into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he caught your wrist as he passed, and you wrenched it from his grasp. He took a step back, obviously feeling the anger that was radiating from you. “What’s wrong, doll?”

“As if you don’t know,” you snapped, inhibitions down enough that you were ready to lay your grievances bare. “But that’s right, I just fuck everything up anyways! How could I ever think that the great James Barnes might be the problem for once?”

“Fuck everything up? I don’t understand. I don’t think you fuck anything up, Y/N.” The sincerity of which he said your name gave you pause, and when you looked at him, he seemed genuinely confused. Your anger waned enough for you to explain that night, and how badly it had hurt your feelings.

“I was talking about Dot. That night, she had cornered Steve at the dance hall again, acting all sweet on him. Just like she had done every other night in the few weeks before. And then she left him high and dry, trying to make moves on me when I went out back for a smoke. I thought she was using him - which she was, by the way - and I wanted him to cut it out.

“He got mad at me when he walked out and she was trying to shove her hand in my pants. Thought I was jealous he was gettin’ attention or somethin’.”

You weren’t angry anymore, not after the bomb Bucky had just dropped. Instead you just felt numb, and stupid, to have spent so long holding a grudge for no reason.

“I thought you really liked Dot, though, why wouldn’t you have taken your chance anyways?” It seemed like the most trivial thing in the world to ask, yet it was what your brain chose to focus on.

“Well besides the fact that tried to get to me by using my best friend, I’ve had my eye on one dame for a while now.” You tried not to let your heart constrict at the thought, and you tried to remember a girl he had talked about since then that may have caught his eye. But you couldn’t remember a single one in the years since that night.

You figured he had grown tired of your sarcastic comments about his promiscuous behavior, and kept the girls away from you, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe there hadn’t been any since then. You didn’t want to let yourself entertain the idea, so you threw out a random name.

“No, not Beth,” he responded. “It’s you, Y/N. I’ve been holdin’ out for ya, and I get now that I really hurt you, but I’ll keep holdin’ out until you kick me to the curb.”

You didn’t let your mind make any decisions as you lurched toward him, instead letting your heart take the lead. Because up until that winter night, you had been pining for Bucky just like every other girl in a 50 block radius, but you kept it to yourself, knowing his dating habits - or lack thereof - and your friendship with him and Steve both was more important to you.

You could have never let yourself hope he might feel the same, that he might want you beyond a single night. But that hope was reignited as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him and slotting his mouth against yours.

The two of you were so lost in each other, so lost in the moment that had unknowingly been building for years, that you didn’t hear the knock at the door, or the creak of the hinges as it opened. It wasn’t until a heavy thud sounded against the floorboards that your sprung apart, both turning to see Steve, shocked, in the doorway.

“I’m thirty minutes late for dinner, and this is what I miss?”

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tessa-liam · 10 months

Text

Smoke and Mirrors

8- The Mirror Doesn't Lie

Book: The Royal Romance Finale+, Alternate Universe

Series Premise: Hidden in the shadows, poised to challenge the status quo are enemies of the state. The loyalties and honesty of family and friends will be tested. ‘Keep your friends close, your enemies closer’.

Smoke and Mirrors Masterlist

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!MC Riley Brooks-Rys, OTP ‘LiRi’

2nd Pairings: Leo Rys x Amalas, Drake Walker x F!OC Delaney Leigh, Olivia Nevrakis x M!OC Alex Cossoy

*Most characters belong to Pixelberry

*Not Beta’d, please excuse all errors.

Rating: M🔞*Series Warnings: NSFW material, sexual innuendo, adult language/swearing/drinking/gun violence. Not recommended for anyone under 18 years of age.

Category: Alternate Universe/on-going series/angst/fluff

Words: 1990

8- The Mirror Doesn’t Lie

Chapter Summary: Preparations for the Celebration Ball continue for the upcoming Saturday at the palace to officially inform the court of the princes and their expected arrival date in August. Drake’s revelations about his future are revealed with memories of the past for Liam. Lena, under custody with Interpol is transferred to Lyon, France.

Music and Title Inspiration:

Simply the Best, Sara Beth Mirrors, Justin Timberlake

A/N1: My submission for @choicesflashfics Week #38, Prompt #1 - “I love your curves. I think it’s one of the best things about you.”, Prompt #2 - “Pretending to be happy is pretty damn exhausting.”

A/N2: My submission for Choices June Challenge, Prompt – Nature – Run (jogging), beach, sunshine, summer. @liaromancewriter

A/N3: My submission for Character Summer Challenge, Prompt – beach @choicesficwriterscreations

Bright, early mornings in the summer always brought a calming solace for Liam. As he jogged along the coastline of the private, secluded beach near the Capital, the sunshine and cool sea breeze invigorated him and allowed for clarity of thought; a guilty pleasure that he took for himself. Listening to calming music through his ear buds, and with the steady pace of his jog, his thoughts eventually turned to the conversation that he had had with his brother the previous evening. Liam shook his head, remembering with regret how the phone conversation quickly got heated...

‘Leo, are you trying to tell me that I need to give this woman, this stranger, the benefit of the doubt?”

All I am saying Liam, is that our father turned his back on his own daughter, on your sister, my half sister.

Oh, in that case you are trying to tell me that I am just like our father?!

This woman threatened my daughter, stalked my wife, told you that she wanted my throne because she felt that I was not worthy of it.

And what, I should just let her have access to me and to my family without consequence?

Are you insane?! '

Liam stopped abruptly, not realizing his calming jog had turned into a fast-paced run. He bent over, slowing down his breathing as he swept the sweat from his brow.

The sunshine glinted off the bows of the yachts docked at the marina just up ahead as he looked up. Chuckling to himself, he realized how far and fast he ran.

This argument had swiftly spiraled into a shouting match and ended with Liam curtly ending that conversation.

Shaking his head, he chastised himself, thinking that when he returned to the palace, he needed to call Leo to further explain his reasoning and to apologize for the conversation getting out of hand.

Of course, he was curious, and wanted answers from this woman, his ‘sister’. What he really needed was answers from his father.

Why did he not embrace his own flesh and blood? Why?

Why would he knowingly abandon his child?

Why keep this child away from him?

Was his father’s paranoia the reason?

These are missing pieces to this puzzle that confounded him. Should he give her the benefit of a doubt? Yes, he can. However, there are qualified Interpol Inspectors that are trained to vet situations like this.

His responsibility, no... his duty was to protect his queen and family at all costs. Which makes it a critical priority to keep this woman physically away from Cordonia’s borders.

Liam made a mental note to call back Olivia and Inspector Cossoy back to the capital, once Lena was secured in Lyon, France.

Picking up his jog again, he continued at a steady pace, changing his thoughts to the upcoming celebration ball being held at the palace on Saturday. Deciding to formally invite Amalas, he was sure that his brother would follow her back to Cordonia. That would be the perfect opportunity to extend an olive branch.

“Li, hold up.” Drake appeared walking on the dock, interrupting his thoughts.

“Hey, Drake, good morning.” Liam slowed to a stop, turning to greet his friend.

“Welcome back, how was your trip?” This being the first conversation that the friends had since their talk; Liam was curious about how his trip to the U.S. played out.

“Pretty good, all things considered.” Drake acknowledged.

“Delaney’s parents were very welcoming. Her older brother, not so much.”

“Oh, oh! That must have been uncomfortable, what did you do?” Liam joked, clapping Drake on the back.

“He was asking me more questions about my intentions than her father did.” Drake rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

“It made me wonder what Laney told him about me.”

“Why would she disparage you?”

Drake ran his hand down his face, sighing, “we had an argument just before we left the hotel to meet her family at the restaurant. She seems to think that I am afraid of commitment.”

Liam looked at his friend, “well, she may have a point there.”

“Not you too,” Drake complained. “I just like my space.”

“Yes, well, it sounds like she wants a future with you, Drake, and that means compromise.”

Groaning, “I get that, Li, it's just that.... Drake paused and exhaled loudly, closing his eyes.

Liam noticed the tells of Drake’s nervousness and stopped to look directly at his friend.

For whatever reason, Drake was having a rough time returning eye contact.

Without looking up, Drake reached into his backpack that was slung over his shoulder.

“I have something for you. It is an invitation for you and Riley.”

Surprised, Liam reached for the sealed envelope. “This? An invitation for what?

Drake, speaking very quietly, “well, I don’t want to spoil the surprise... But it is something incredibly special from Delaney and I.”

Liam’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, reading the look on Drake’s face as apprehensive.

“Delaney and I have come to an agreement.” Drake looked everywhere but did not return Liam’s questioning gaze.

“We have decided to set up roots, here, in Cordonia, as a couple.”

“Really? What happened to change her mind about moving back to Austin?”

“We came to a compromise.”

This piqued Liam’s curiosity. “What exactly did you agree to?”

“In your hand, Li, is a wedding invitation.” Drake revealed, his eyes not looking up from the ground.

“Well, well, well...this is, a surprise. Congratulations, my friend! Riley will be delighted to hear this.”

Still looking at the ground, Drake nodded, “thank you, Liam.”

Furrowing his brows, Liam looked at his friend in confusion, not saying a word.

“Watching you with Brooks, all these years.... I want that too.” Drake spoke hesitantly.

It wasn’t lost on Liam; the meaning behind those words. Knowing that Drake had feelings for Riley, once upon a time, that had sparked during his social season. Confessed feelings that still lingered for Drake, but feelings that were never returned by Riley.

“Pretending to be happy is pretty damn exhausting,” Drake confessed.

♤♡◇♧

Royal Boutique, Cordonian Palace

Eleanor squealed, “mommy, look at all the pretty dresses! I want that one! Oh, oh, look at this one! Mommy, pleeease, may I have both?”

It was the Friday before the Celebration Ball at the Palace. Promising her daughter, the particularly important grown-up task of choosing her formal wear, Riley watched her little girl excitedly choose two dresses to try.

“Well, Ellie, since you can only wear one dress to the ball tomorrow, the other dress you can wear to the next event. Choose the one that you think fits the purpose of having this ball.”

Eleanor tapped her finger to her chin, debating her choice.

“You handled that situation perfectly, your majesty.” Riley’s personal assistant, Claire, whispered.

“Mommy, I have decided.”

Riley looked expectantly at her daughter.

“These dresses are wrong,” Eleanor answered. “These dresses aren’t blue.”

Claire grinned watching Riley’s reaction, as Ellie plucked the blue dress from the rack to try on, leaving the other selections behind.

Shaking her head with a smile, Riley resumed looking through the ball gowns in the boutique. It was time to find a gown that would fit her now rapidly changing body and her personal assistant suggested an A-line pastel yellow tulle ball gown with an embellished plunging neckline.

Gazing at her reflection in the full-length mirror she smiled as she felt flutters in her tummy. The twins were very active in their daily movements tucked securely inside her body.

“Claire, this is the one.” Riley called out to her assistant from the dressing room.

Hearing the dressing room door click behind her, Riley was delighted when she felt Liam’s strong arms wrap around her; clearly not Claire.

Riley closed her eyes, when she felt his lips kiss her ear.

“Mm mm... what did you do with my assistant?” Riley tittered.

“I sent her away. You have me to attend to your needs.” Liam responded, kissing down her neck.

“In that case, what do you think of this gown? Do you think the bodice is too revealing?”

“I love your curves. I think it’s one of the best things about you.”

Giggling, Riley playfully swatted his arm. “Liam, I am serious!”

“I am too, love.... You are ravishing.”

♤♡◇♧

Monterrisian Royal Palace

The unmarked black SUV passed through the palace side gate as Alex and Olivia watched. Lena was being transported out of the country by Interpol today.

Once Lena arrives at the Interpol headquarters in France, she will be given a psychological evaluation and be officially charged for her crimes.

Alex overheard Leo's question for Olivia...

“She did not look happy, but at least she wasn’t resisting or trying to escape.” Olivia answered Leo on her cell speakerphone.

"Good to hear. Amalas notified Liam this morning about the transfer."

"Are the two of you planning to attend the celebration ball tomorrow?"

Olivia was well aware of the 'conversation' between the brothers.

Agreeing with Liam, Olivia was very vocal about her position to Leo after their conversation ended.

"Yes, Liv, I will go but I am going solo."

Olivia looked at Alex, raising her brow, and answering Leo.

"This will be an interesting evening,"

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