#thank you for the prompt my friend aaah | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yxngbxkkie · 7 months

Note

Aaah, those drunk confession prompts are so cute😊💞

You asked to send some in so I thought Binnie would fit 12 or 14, since he's such a silly cutie. Your writing is always the best, I hope you have a lovely day!! :) thank you <3

binnie is absolutely perfect for both prompts, so that's what i did! 💓 thank you for sending a prompt in! i hope you like it! 🥰

12. "I'm seeing you twice. Oh, now I can give all my love to even more of you."

14. "You're so adorable. I want to pick you up and never let you down."

"Y/N!" Minho screams your name, and you can hear him drag his feet.

You push yourself off of the bed, pausing the YouTube video you're watching. "Yeah?!" You scream back, opening the door to your room.

"Come get your boyfriend!" He says to you, rounding the corner.

"Changbin isn't my boyfriend," you tell him again. You cross your arms over your chest while leaning against the doorframe.

He smiles at you, pushing your shoulder playfully. "How do you know I was talking about Changbin, hm??" He teases you before walking into your room.

"Because the seven of you constantly call him my boyfriend," you remind him, turning your body to see Minho flop himself on your bed.

"The two of you are smitten with each other. You might as well call him your boyfriend," he shrugs his shoulders, leaning on his hands.

"Anyway, why do I need to go get him?" You ask Minho, tucking some hair behind your ear.

Your friend sits up fully, resting his arms against his thighs. "He's drunk and won't stop yelling," he mentions to you. "Chan and I can only do so much to shut him up. It's your turn."

A laugh leaves your lips as you shake your head. "This is what happens when you give him alcohol. You guys don't drink that much," you playfully scold the older member.

Minho shrugs his shoulders again, the two of you walking out of your room. "I didn't come up with the idea."

You walk down the stairs, seeing the rest of the members sitting out on the little patio. Changbin hangs himself over Chan as you walk out the glass door.

"Binnie," you call out his name, gaining the rapper's attention. You giggle and wave at him, watching his eyes light up.

"Hi, Y/N! Oh my god," he giggles and pushes himself off of Chan. He rushes over to you, almost falling over a couple of times.

His hands rest on your waist as you place yours on his biceps. "Hi, Binnie," you chuckle, keeping him steady. "You doin' alright?"

He nods his head, smiling ear to ear. "I'm doing fabulous, cutie," Changbin slurs his words, his body rocking back and forth.

"You want to go inside with me? We can watch your favorite show," you attempt to bribe him, gently rubbing his arm.

"Yeah! Can we cuddle?" He asks you while you lead him back into the resort.

You giggle and nod your head. "Of course, Binnie," you mention while glancing back at the other members. "G'Night, guys."

"Goodnight, Y/N!" The members wish you a good night as you loop your arm with his.

Changbin leans his head on your shoulder as the two of you make your way back to your room. "Don't fall asleep on me, handsome," you whisper to him, gently scratching his head.

"I can't wait to cuddle you," he whispers loud enough for you to hear.

Your heart flutters in your chest as you open the door to your room. You help him inside, sitting him down on the edge of the bed. You stroke his cheek for a few seconds before moving to grab him water.

"I'll be right back, okay?" You mention, and Changbin nods his head.

You quickly grab some ibuprofen from your bag, in case he needs it in the morning. You place the pills onto the end stand when you feel Changbin's eyes on you.

"What's up?" You ask him, wondering if he needs anything.

He smiles at you and reaches for one of your hands. "I'm seeing you twice," he giggles, leaning back against the pillows. "Oh! Now I can give all my love to you even more."

A giggle leaves your lips, and you shake your head. "Drink some water, Binnie," you tell him, twisting the cap off for him.

He pouts lightly before complying. You watch him carefully, making sure he doesn't spill it on himself. "You know… you're so adorable. I want to pick you up and never let you down."

"You must really like me, hm?" You ask him, grabbing the water bottle from him. You set it down next to the ibuprofen before climbing into bed next to him.

"I like you so much," he confesses, tilting his head to look at you.

You smile fondly at him, moving some of his hair out of his face. "You're cute, Binnie. I like you too," you tell him, pressing a kiss on his forehead.

Changbin nuzzles his head into your neck, releasing a hum. His buff arms wrap around your waist, pressing your body against his. "If I remember, I'll take you out to breakfast," he whispers into your neck.

"Okay, Binnie-baby. I'll hold you to it," you laugh, combing your fingers through his hair again.

tagging: @thewxntersoldier @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

221 notes · View notes

radio-writes · 2 days

Note

I'll go with:

"You win"

"Why should I stay?"

"And what will you do? Run from me?"

It Seems the Devil and I Walked Hand in Hand

300 Followers Event

Warnings: Forced cannibalism, gore, murder, stockholm syndrome

Tags: Alastor x reader, GN reader, yandare, reader goes insane, dead dove do not eat

MDNI

A humid breeze blew through your hair, the putrid stench of Hell carried with it. Somewhere in the distance, something—whatever it may be this time—exploded, prompting usual screams of terror.

But your heart fluttered, eyes fixated on your friend next to you. You sat side by side with them, on a random hilltop the two of you stumbled upon. It was quiet, but barely out of the chaos of the main pentagram.

"What? What is it?" They laughed as they finally called you out on your staring.

You almost swooned as their warm brown eyes met yours. "You just have the prettiest set of eyes in all of Hell, that's all."

You had been so proud of that. So happy about how smooth you were at the delivery. Giddy about the blush that crept onto your friend's face.

The same warm brown eyes—Hell's prettiest, as Alastor so kindly reminded you—stared back at you now.

Unseeing.

Without its owner's head anywhere near.

On a plate placed before you.

Your blood felt like ice as you hung your head low. Unable to think. Unable to feel. Unable to breathe, maybe, you weren't really sure anymore.

"Afraid I might have gotten carried away, dear. I was absolutely starving since you stood me up on our lunch meeting." Alastor's tone was as bright and cheerful as it always was—you could almost argue that it was even happier now. "Of course, I did save you their eyes. I knew how much you just loved them."

He continued on, sighing and swooning about this and that. How it had been a while since he had such a satisfying meal. How it was all thanks to you for leading him to it. How he can't wait to meet more of your friends—if you ever managed to make any after the show he put on for you.

But you sat still, mind unable to comprehend what actually sat in front of you. Alastor might as well have been talking from three rooms away for all you heard from him. His voice almost sounding like it came from underwater, barely able to pierce through the fog in your head.

It was only when the demon who sat across from you stabbed a fork through an eyeball on your plate, did your senses come back. Like a flipped switch, you could hear well again, in time to hear the disgusting squish of the organ, blood and fluids spilling as it was stabbed.

"Don't let it go cold now, my dear. I went through so much trouble to get them intact and still warm for you." Alastor smiled as he sat across you.

One of his elbows rested on the table, hand cradling his cheek as you met his gaze. The gleeful, cold red eyes sickened you much more than the gore he held up. He raised the fork to you. Your friend's eye at the end of it. "Say Aaah~"

You pressed your lips together. Whether to resist the cruel torture, or to keep the bile from coming out, you were unsure.

Like a stubborn child, you shook your head, arms pushing against the table to get up from your seat. Alastor was behind you in seconds, dissolving and rematerializing through shadows faster than you could blink.

"Nuh uh, dearest. We don't waste good food in this Hotel. What would the papers say if they find out we throw away such scarce resource?" He pressed his body against the back of your chair, securing you back at the table with an easy push.

He leaned over your shoulder, long arms reached around you. You stared as his clawed hands planted themselves on the table in front of you, caging you in, framing that horrid plate.

You felt his breath by your ear, that horribly familiar static prickled your skin, before you heard him speak. "You know, I'm starting to think you like how your friends taste."

You swallowed against your dry throat, eyes wide. Every breath you took was shallow as you tried to shake your head only to be met with a mocking laugh.

"No? Come now, why lie, my dear? It's only us here." Alastor leaned closer over you. The heat of his body inescapable. "This is the third friend this month. Even a child would have learned by now."

"I'm all you need, darling. Everyone else is just cattle." His voice distorted as he spoke, a threat, a promise, you knew from experience that he'd deliver on.

Faintly you could feel the weight of metal around your neck. It wasn't physically there, no. After all, it's been a while since you've given him a reason to summon that chain. But it never really ever felt absent, specially at times like this.

You sighed in resignation, and braced yourself for that familiar horrible taste. Your hands clenched into fists on your lap—a sight that delighted the demon behind you.

"You win." You said softly. Numbly, you parted your lips, mind wandering away as you let Alastor slide the fork into your slack mouth. You ignored what it was you were chewing, letting your body function through the motions as you fought to keep your thoughts else were.

You felt a large hand pat your head, bringing you back to the present in time to hear Alastor's praise. "What a good pet you make, my dear."

The plate before you was empty now, Alastor's looming figure having retreated away from your shaking one, back in his seat in front of you.

The horrible rotten taste still lingered in your mouth, but you didn't bother to ask for something to wash it away. You simply stood up, ready to run to your room and force yourself to throw up—again.

"Hm? Running from me now, are we?" Alastor's brows raised as he watched you. "Not that you can, I own you, after all."

You suspected his words were less of a reminder for you, and more on just him loving to say them.

"And why should I stay?" Your words seemed argumentative, but your tone and the hunch of your shoulders were anything but. "I've already finished my punishment."

"I would say it was more of a treat, really. You have no idea how much I wanted to eat those." He laughed, not really minding that you just stared back blankly at him.

"Besides, you've yet to pay me back for leaving me waiting at Rosie's. So come, sit." An invitation to most, an order to you.

So sat you did. You ignored the smudges of blood on the plate still in front of you. You ignored the bitter taste the that lingered in your mouth. You ignored the growing numbness spreading from your chest to the rest of your limbs.

You ignored yourself.

Mindlessly, you nodded along to whatever gossip Alastor had, almost immediately, began sharing with you.

Alastor's hold on you had tightened in the past few months. Not only had he pulled you away from the people at the hotel—you were apparently terribly ill, contagious, but fine under his care—but he had also confiscated your phone and TV.

The window in your room was also simply magicked away. He didn't want you getting any funny ideas of leaving him again, after all.

At first you were fine with it. You had a few books in your room, anyway. But after the first two weeks, you've already finished most of them.

Still, they kept you entertained for a little longer after that; you didn't really mind rereading them—for the fourth time, you think.

But then you had that fight with Alastor. You had asked for your phone back, desperate to know what was going on outside your room. Desperate to listen to your music. Desperate to hear another voice aside from your own.

Alastor merely waved off your concern. He let you keep his radio after all. You could simply listen to him. He talked about current events, and played music, and broadcasted all sorts of screams voices. You didn't need anything else.

He didn't quite take it nicely when you had spat that it wasn't enough.

In the fray that followed, your books were lost. Torn to shreds in seconds.

But no matter, you had thought. You still had some paper, a pencil, some paint. While you weren't the best artist around, you doodled the hours away, anyway. Coloring, sketching, filling out every plain, empty gap on the papers you had.

You were quickly running out of material, though. You'd repeatedly ask Alastor to get you more paper, another pencil, even an eraser, every time he came by. But all he kept saying was that he forgot to fetch some, and that he will surely do so next time.

You were always disappointed, but knew better than to start another fight. You didn't want to risk destroying what little paint you had left, after all.

You had began to doodle on your walls. Counting the little details on the wallpaper, even each and crack along your way. You had drawn everything you ever knew existed; from characters you used to liked when you were alive to a freaking sock on the floor.

The friends he made you eat.

Hastily covered with a drawing of a deer.

By his next visit, Alastor was appalled by the state of your room. He didn't quite appreciate your vandalism. He promptly snapped his fingers and the walls were replaced. Your drawings gone, the wallpaper gone, even the cracks were gone. It was now just a smooth red surface.

He had taken away the paint, not that there was much left at that point. You thought it was fair anyway, considering you did draw on the walls like an irresponsible child.

You tried cleaning too, just to keep your mind going, your body moving. But no, no, no. Alastor couldn't have his dear friend, and a valued hotel guest, doing such menial labor.

He easily cleaned the room for you, not a speck of dust left. Barely any furniture left too—he had found them tacky, apparently.

At that point all you had to look forward to were Alastor's visits. Constant, they were. He insisted he brought you your food personally, of course.

You had been suspicious about what he was feeding you, even once outright questioning what you were eating.

He had laughed. "Unless you made any new friends from this room, I can assure you, you aren't eating any sinners, my dear."

You weren't sure how much his assurance was worth, but food was one of the only two things you actually had here. You didn't feel like giving that up, too.

You hated him. Hated him for keeping you here. Hated him for ignoring all your pleas to be let out.

You hated him, but still found yourself jumping from your bed as soon as you heard the door handle rattle.

You hated him, but him coming to visit meant you had something to do.

The radio by your bed, and Alastor's frequent visits were all you had left.

The isolation was driving you insane, broken only whenever Alastor wanted to.

Alastor was driving you insane, but without him you were completely isolated.

Your sanity felt like a candle burning at both ends, melting far too fast for you to keep it together. You didn't know anymore which torture you preferred. Alastor's presence or absence?

At least, that was a few weeks back.

Because it wasn't like you needed to choose now.

Your food had been appearing on your side table every meal time, instead of coming in carried by the familiar demon.

The radio beside you had been silent for a long while now. Not one terrified scream, not one jazzy tune, not even empty static.

And of course, Alastor himself hadn't come in to see you in weeks.

You think it's been weeks, at least. He took the clock with him last time he cleaned.

No, there was no need to pick your poison anymore. Alastor had chosen for you.

At first, you had been bitter. How dare he ignore you—or did he forget about you? God, no, he wouldn't. Right? —how dare he not even check in to see if you were even still alive.

How dare he not visit.

And then, you were worried. It was one thing for him not to pop in on you, another thing entirely to miss his shows. He'd never miss an opportunity to broadcast fear over Pride Ring, but your radio had been quiet this whole time. What was keeping him, then? Was he hurt? Was he okay?

Then, and you think it was the worst of them all, you started to miss him. From the moment you woke from restless slumber, your eyes fixated on the door handle, begging it to turn. Your chest ached, praying to hear his silly staticy voice again, even if it was just senseless gossip.

You felt like screaming, begging, pounding on the door for him to visit you. But you knew he wouldn't like that. No, if the others in the hotel found out, Alastor would likely never visit you ever again.

So you kept to your bed. Your days spent glaring down at the door in desperation, switching only to the radio to do the same, for hours on end. Every little shift you made, the sheets moving under you, felt so deafeningly loud in the empty room.

It was almost maddening.

"My dear, I have a task for you." Alastor's cheery voice spoke up by your ear.

Your eyes snapped open, greeted by the sight of the demon leaning over your head.

"Nothing too difficult, just a little grocery shopping." He continued on as if he hadn't left you to rot.

You didn't care, nor did you register what his words meant. No, the first thing your body jumped to, your mind went to, was that Alastor was here.

"Al!" The glee in your voice unrestricted as you pushed your sheets away and threw your arms around him. The relief, the absolute refreshment, of feeling another warm body against you again was almost heavenly.

A soft hand patted at your shoulder as he awkwardly stayed there. "Well, good morning to you too, sweetheart." He laughed.

You sat up, eyes wide as you leaned away and took him in. Unmistakably, a very welcomed sight.

He told you about the chore he needed done, truly very simple. Just a literal grocery list. But you held onto every word, every charming staticy syllable falling from his lips as if he was preaching your religion.

You were determined to memorize it all, not just to complete the task but to simply engrave his voice in your head.

You were so thankful to finally hear something other than your creaky bed. To finally be having a conversation again. To feel human.

It hadn't even click for you that you will finally be heading out.

You were quick in getting the task done, determined to get back to Alastor as fast as you could.

You hadn't notice how your skin thawed in the outside heat compared to the icy room you've been locked in. You hadn't paid mind to everyone's greetings around you. You didn't care for all the flashing lights, and tasty smells, and loud music and laughter and screams around you as finished you little assignment.

You wanted to get things done so you could be by the familiar demon again. His presence almost felt like a drug you've been deprived off for so long, that it physically irked you to be away.

And that's how it was from then on.

You were given a new room at the hotel. Alastor had replaced all the books he destroyed because he just felt so guilty. He had also finally remembered to buy you all those papers and art supplies you asked him to get you. And he had even returned your phone and television to you.

Not that you cared for any of those. You've spent most of your time in Alastor's room anyway, unable to stand a second without hearing his voice.

You'd cling onto every word he'd say, attentive, obsessed.

Your eye would twitch every time he'd mention someone, anyone. Part of you irritated that he had spent time with someone else other than you. Even more so that he cared enough to remember their name. To say their name.

Soon you not only clung onto his words, but onto him as well. Unable to stand that others spent time with him when you could not. You'd miss meals, miss sleep, drop whatever you were doing to follow him wherever he went. To stay by Alastor's side.

When he forbade you from doing so, you would follow in secret, or have your own little ways to spy on him. To know what he was doing.

The few times you were away from your owner's side, you could be found standing over a dead sinner. Maybe someone who touched him, maybe someone he mentioned, maybe someone who simply glanced at him for far too long for your liking. Regardless, they were all equally deserving of death in your eyes. How dare they.

Alastor knew of these, of course. And while he was quickly growing suffocated by your constant overbearing presence, he hadn't really bothered to say much.

He still preferred this—this grotesque reflection of his own affections for you—over your defiant little attitude before.

His last straw, however, was now. When you stood over yet another sinner. The light gone from their eyes as you still, repeatedly, shot at their corpse.

The green chain appeared in his clenched fist for the first time in a long while. The collar snapped shut around your neck, but you hadn't even noticed until he gave it a harsh yank.

You were pulled to the side, stumbling over the body by your feet. You looked up, confused, to see Alastor snarling down at you.

"I needed him alive, dear." He said, his annoyance barely kept under control.

"He touched you." You merely replied, as if it was the worst offense, worst sin, in Hell.

"Because we were making a deal, you stupid pest!" Alastor hissed through his teeth, but you merely blinked at him as if you didn't see his point still.

You stood up straighter, keeping your eyes on him. Always on him.

He was so beautiful, so perfect. Everything you needed.

Why had you ever wanted to find anyone more?

"But he still held your hand."

"I'll touch who I want to touch. Do not forget who holds the leash here." His eyes narrowed, chain pulling taught between you.

You smiled at him, loving the way his voice sounded when he was getting angry. It rarely happened now considering how good you were for him, but oh, did it sound like music to you.

Your hands lifted to softly run your hands through the chain by your neck. "You do, of course. I don't question that."

"I need you, Al." You added, soft, almost loving expression on your face as your adored his furious red eyes. "And while I can't force you to stay with me, alone. I can simply just get rid of everyone else. I can be your only one, if I'm the only one left."

"So you've finally flew off the handle, dearest?" His question seemed genuine, not at all in jest.

But you laughed anyway, as if it was the funniest thing ever. "And what if I have?" You grinned at him. "What will you do? Run from me?"

Your fingers gripped the chain suddenly, yanking yourself forward, closer to him. You feel his pull against the chain as well, not to bring you close but simply to keep hold of it. To keep hold of his control over you.

Your eyes lowered, admiring him from up close now. The flicker of uncertainty in his eyes was new, and you couldn't wait to see more new things from him now that you're so devastatingly devoted to him.

"You own me, remember? I'm here forever."

#tw: forced cannibalism #tw: murder #tw: stockholm syndrome #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #vien writes #follower event #I told myself I'd keep these ones short and simple #but i do not have much self control #also i am fixated on Alastor's cannibalism right now if you couldn't tell

99 notes · View notes

lord-morpheus-ravens · 10 months

Note

16 for the blossoming romance

Aaah this is such a good prompt! Thank you!

16. naturally gravitating closer together

There was, Hob thought, a tension to his friend, coiling like barbed wire along the straight line of his spine, the sharp set of his shoulders. Even like this, wearing nothing but a soft tee and a pair of old sweatpants (both Hob's, once blue, now a deep black; he did not begrudge the fabric its need to please the Dreamlord) patterned with fluorescent lights, there was a stillness to him that spoke of tight, forceful control, like a pulled leash.

Like fear, maybe, though Hob would not dare name it out loud.

Dream sat on his sofa like he was holding council with foreign dignitaries, like any slip of his expression, any gesture, any unveiled emotion might be used against him; and Hob, human and helpless that he was, ached for him, ached to gentle him somewhat, to put him at ease. So he pressed tea in his white bony hands, and sweetened it with honey, and sat with his own cup by his friend's side, close enough that he could see the shadow cast by his lashes on his cheek, smell his otherworldly scent.

It was... different, in the Waking. Subdued, in a sense, though no less entincing for it. But then, he had always been drawn to Dream, from that first night in 1389, when he'd lifted his gaze to meet those ever-wet eyes, that irreverent smirk, and had known something great, something other and terribly precious had entered his life.

So he sat, trying to think up ways to uncoil the tension, to smooth out the loneliness of his dearest friend, the sense of non-belonging he seemed to carry deep within his cloak alongside the stars. Without really meaning to, he shifted his leg, and then their knees brushed, just barely, and Dream let out a punched-out breath, devastating.

Hob looked at him, took in the confusion in his unguarded eyes like a wound to the chest. "Dream, dove, are you alright?" he asked, the pet name escaping in his rush to soothe, to bridge this wide open chasm between them, the shape of his friend's quiet, mournful dread.

Dream shifted, leaning towards him for but a second, just an inch before he stopped, statue-still and pale as marble, and sharp, inhuman teeth pressed against the softness of his rose-pink lip. Hob stopped himself from tracking the motion, but slid a little closer.

"You keep thinking of me," Dream whispered, hushed and lingering, like wind sweeping inside the living room, the voice of the Dreaming, blurred around the edges and ever-changing. "You dream of keeping me. I would know if you mean it."

Caught, Hob fell prey for one stretched moment of his own terrors, blaming his own poor control that had him wear his heart on his sleeve. Then he breathed, and let it go. Dream had seen much worse from him and had still chosen to meet him, to take up a vessel of flesh and blood and fold it neatly on his sofa, to drink his tea in small, endearing sips. To touch their thighs together and not move back.

"I mean it," said Hob, steady, willing the disbelief away from those star-filled eyes; slowly, he brought his hand forward, palm up, and laid it between them in offer. "All of it."

Dream stared down at his palm, touched two fingers lightly over the line of his wrist, like it was forbidden. "I am drawn to it. What you offer, Hob Gadling, I want it. And my want is a terrible thing." He retracted his hand, tucking it primly in his lap, and looked up at him. "I have been trying. To spare you."

"Don't," Hob said at once, and caught his hand, twining their fingers properly, holding on tight to the trembling, cold flesh of him. "Let me. Let me care for you." He could have spoken of love, let me love you on the tip of his tongue, but it felt more important that Dream understood this, first and foremost: "It is no burden, to care for you, dove. Easy as breathing, actually. Sometimes it seems like I've done little else in the past few centuries."

Bowing his head, the Dreamlord shuddered, and his blunt nails dug into the heel of Hob's palm, as if to ascertain the truth of him. "I wish you closer," he finally admitted, like a secret confession, like Hob should be frightened by it. The arc of his spine was twisted strangely, bowed forward into the empty space between their bodies and yet held suspended, mid-motion, trapped into a half fall. "All the time, I wish you closer."

"Come here, then," Hob told him lightly, drawing his free hand around the bony shoulders, until he could splay his fingers over the long tense curve of his back to try and mould it into something kinder. "Come here, my friend, my love."

The thrill of calling Dream love aloud was nothing to the wonder of having him in his arms; the tension snapped, and he became loose without it, liquid-like, flowing into his lap, forehead resting in the cradle of his neck, lips barely brushing his skin. "Surely it will become too much," Dream said even as he burrowed closer, and his ice-cold fingers dug into his shirt, bunching it up, desperate and reaching.

"It won't," Hob murmured, smoothing out the tremors of his spine, filled with love and grief alike for the beloved creature in his arms. "Stay as long as you like."

Whew! that was very inspiring!!! Thank you again for the prompt!

send me more if you like!

#dreamling #dreamling fic #hob x dream #lord morpheus #dream of the endless deserves good things #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream x hob #fanfic #the sandman #the sandman fanfic #vale writes #thanks for the prompt!!!

112 notes · View notes

daydreamswithme · 9 months

Note

hi, you said you mby wanted to get into writing? how about a meet cute situation? where harry is like famous and she doesn’t know but he looks familiar or something like that. if you don’t end up doing it that is also okay :) hope you’re having a good day xx

A/N: AAAH OMG!!! THIS ID MY FIRST REQUEST THANK UUUU XXXXX !!!! i didnt really know how to start this BUT I LOOKED UP SOME PROMPTS and chose this one:

THIS IS LIKE MORE THAN 2 YEARS OLD SO IT WAS WAY WAY BEFORE HARRY WON HIS GRAMMIES OR GAINED THE ALL THE FAME HE HAS NOW LOL (i started writing it right about the time lot first started in the usa i think????)

20: getting paired up at a dance class

You were running late.

So fucking late.

And you knew that Glenne was a perfectionist and she would have your head if you were late again-

But it wasn't your fault. Solely at least.

Everything was going wrong today. From getting your period this morning and staining your favourite sheets to the bus breaking down on the way down here, forcing you to walk the last 3 blocks in the pouring rain.

The universe seemed to hate you today.

Finally, though, you sigh as you push open the heavy door to the dance hall.

"I'm so sorry Glenne, I swear I got ready half an hour early and got on the early bus to come on time and oh my fucking god you won't believe what happened today-"

You are interrupted by a cough. And so you turn around slowly, prepared for the embarrassment you are going to have to endure, only to find that Glenne wasn't alone this time.

No, she was accompanied by Jeff and another man, but you just couldn't place a finger on who he was. You'd definitely seen him before because he looked familiar but-

" 'm Harry" is the first thing he says, before sticking his hand out for a handshake.

You take it, telling him your own name before he's cutting you off again.

"Oh my god your hands are freezing! Here I have an extra sweatshirt somewhere"

And he's running off, to the other side of the room where you find three gym bags placed on the floor. You turn quickly to Glenne, eyes wide and questioning before she mouths, 'Jeff's friend'

You nod in understanding and watch him shuffle through his cream crocheted tote bag, a sparkly 'HS' twinkling in the dance studio's light. A moment later, his hands pop out with a black hoodie, embroidered with 'Treat People With Kindness' that he hands to you hastily, urging you behind the room partition to change.

"This is Y/N?" you hear his voice again, and you are sure you've heard that british accent before, you just can't place your finger on it-

"Why? Interested?" you hear Glenne say in a teasing voice and you can just hear that stupid little smirk of hers-

"Alright enough, I can hear you, it's not like I'm actually in a different room" you say, quickly pulling the sweatshirt over your head but not before you hear some low murmurs. "Now let's get this over with" you sigh, while walking to the group. You turn to Harry, "Cute sweatshirt, thanks". He nods with a smile,

"Actually it's from-"

"Ah, you are all here...finally" the dance instructor comes in the room, and you narrow your eyes at her dig.

"I was like ten minutes late" you try to defend.

"Try 25" Glenne remarks while stretching, and you turn to Jeff who usually supports you, only to find him looking away from you, not wanting to get involved.

"Alright, let's start. Now, you two are the maid of honour and best man I presume?" you and Harry nod. "Now traditionally, you share a dance, usually a waltz once the guests are welcomed to the dance floor. We'll start first with leader's steps and see if that fits you" you both nod again. "Jeff and Glenne, feel free to do the same"

Your eyes fleet over at Harry for a moment, only to find him already looking at you. When you catch him he diverts his eyes quickly and you can't help the chuckle that leaves you.

"Something funny, Y/N?" the dance instructor chastises you, and just like you are a schoolgirl again you answer instinctively,

"No miss", making you and the rest of the group erupt in giggles. Harry is trying to hold it back, but you see the huge smile that takes over his face.

"Now, this dance is easy. It's exactly as it sounds, one leads while the other follows. If you are going for tradition, which I believe you are, it's usually the man that leads so, Harry, Jeff, turn to your partners"

Jeff turns to Glenne while Harry turns to you, putting his right hand out. He wiggles his brows and with a curious smile, you place your hand in his. He softly clutches it, before raising it and placing his other hand on your waist. You hear the dance teacher shuffling to put on the music and turn to Harry with a smile.

"Hey, so I've never waltzed before" you say, pursing your lips in a smile while he looks at you with a smile. "So if I accidentally step on both your feet at the same time, know that I'm sincerely sorry."

"I'll keep that in mind" he replies, giggling as he takes a step back. You follow reluctantly, taking a small step so you don't step on him. He nods, seemingly approving of your move and continues on.

You fall into a steady rhythm, one step forward, two steps right, one step left and one backward. It seems easy, you think to yourself and start making your steps bigger, your movement more confident.

That is of course, until you manage to step on both of his feet at the same time-

"Fuck!" you hear, a scream which breaks the beautiful silence that had encompassed the room, with you holding Harry's gaze, dancing like you had been doing it for years.

Harry runs for the small bench on the side of the room and a string of apologies spew out of your mouth. Jeff and Glenne look over, and you know, Glenne is going to kill you right about now-

"Shit! I'm so sorry Harry, oh fuck! Sorry!" you move over to him, who although clearly hurt, tried his smallest of smiles while reassuring you that it was fine, really, and it didn't actually hurt that much.

"I think that this is enough for today" you hear Glenne say through an annoyed huff, and you know, you know, you'll hear it over the phone tonight. You bite your lip anxiously, sliding next to Harry on the small wooden bench and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Really, Harry, I'm so so sorry" you keep repeating and a small giggle floats through your ears. You're confused, until you turn to see Harry with a cute bunny smile, his eyes crinkling as he takes your apologies in. You aren't sure if the pain is making him delirious yet it couldn't have possibly hurt that much, right?

"Actually, you know what?" He speaks up, looking at you. You shrug, confused by the sudden shift in his mood. Your eyebrows knit in worry, and you look at him with glossed over eyes, hoping you didn't fuck this up.

"I don't think I can forgive you". Your eyes wide. His smile is infectious as he looks at you, and you allow yourself to calm down, telling yourself that that he's just joking-

"That is, unless you join me for dinner tonight?"

#hi #this is my first fic #its kinda shit #but pls be kind #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurbs

80 notes · View notes

imfinereallyy · 10 months

Note

Happy Almost Birthday!!! dialogue prompt #41 for Platonic Stobin please and thank you :)))

@spectrum-spectre aaah thank you!! also it feels right to start this event with an ask from you, your reblogs always make me smile. also this one is absolutely not where I expected it to go. (you can find the request game here)

Robin walked into the doorway of their apartment, only to find Steve staring off into the distance with a CD case gripped in his hand.

She felt something drop in her stomach. Sure, Steve wasn’t a man of many words, but the utter silence when she entered the door was damning. Steve never failed to greet her, even on his bad days.

“What’s wrong?” Robin demanded, getting on to the floor besides Steve, resting on her knees.

Steve turned and gave her a watery smile, “I like that.”

“Like what?”

“That you just know.”

Robin hummed in agreement; if anyone else were around, she would wave it off as being friends for years. That living with someone allowed you to pick up on their signals. She knew that was not true, though. That Steve and her had always been connected. Even when they didn’t like each other, there was an understanding between them. The years between them now made it stronger, sure, but to her, Robin and Steve were always meant to be Robin&Steve.

“He came out with the new album.”

Oh. Robin thought, that’s what this was about. That funny feeling only got worse with his words. It settled into something more solid, something more like dread.

Robin knew what she said next would be crucial. Most would want her to bash the album instantly. Any ex-boyfriend should be immediate trash, no matter the talent. But Robin knew Steve, so instead, she asked,

“Any good?”

Steve huffed, “Stupid good.”

“That make you angry? That he’s doing good even without you?” Robin took his hand and rubbed circles with her fingers.

“No, I’m not angry, and I don’t think he’s doing good. Kinda worried, actually. It’s just… it’s just track 7, is well—“ Steve cut himself off to rub his eye with his free hand. The motion pushed his glasses up and down his nose.

Robin took her friend in. The years had been stupidly kind to Steve. Sure, he was only 28, but fighting another dimension should age a guy. His scars only made him rugged instead of old. Robin hated him at times because of it, even told him so. But then, Steve would say something dorky, and kind, and would make her ego inflate way too much and—

Yea she loved her strange little dude.

“What’s on track 7?”

Steve cleared his throat, “You haven’t listened to the album have you?”

Robin, despite the tension in the air, can’t help but roll her eyes, “Oh that’s what ticked you off? Not me asking how the album was?”

Steve snorted as he leaned forward to click seek and landed on track 7 before he hit play.

Robin wasn’t prepared.

Track 7: My Reflection is You

In the depths of darkness,

where love once thrived,

A burning passion left,

but a coldness revived.

Our once forged bond,

now a shattered mirror,

Reflecting the pain,

as we stand here unclear

Torn apart,

like lightning splitting the sky,

Our hearts collide,

leaving scars we can't deny.

With every shattered piece,

a painful memory,

We fight to find solace,

a fleeting remedy.

“Jesus Christ.” Robin found herself saying interrupting the song. The irony wasn’t lost on her; that phrase she used was ingrained into her by the very man singing the lyrics.

Robin looked at Steve, and could see the pain he held in his body. How he ached to change things. The lyrics continued to play as she waited for Steve to speak.

Shattered silence,

shattered dreams,

Torn apart, it seems.

Steve leaned forward and paused the cd, “I guess I just always thought when someone wrote a song about me, it would be romantic. Not this.”

Robin didn’t have much to say. She leaned her head against his shoulder, "I know, babe. You deserve better.”

A sob escaped. Steve was suddenly buried in the crook of her neck, and Robin didn’t say a word, just held him as he cried it out. She didn’t shush Steve, or distract him. He needed this.

Robin, some days thought about yelling at Eddie Munson. This song, though, made her want to commit murder. Torture even. With her experiences, that wasn’t something she said lightly. But with Steve there, as he sobbed in her arms, she doesn’t even question the idea of stabbing a man she once considered a best friend.

But he would never be a soulmate. He would never be Steve. And for making Steve cry he deserved death.

Robin wouldn’t actually do it, though, because it would be more for her in the end. It wasn’t what Steve needed.

Steve’s sobs settled and he pulled back. “Sorry, Robbie.”

“What are you sorry for?”

Steve shrugged, “Don’t know. Just feel like I should be.”

“Well don’t. You did nothing wrong, okay?”

Steve nodded slowly, “Okay.”

“Now,” Robin sighed, “Do you want to rant about it or do you want me to tell you what I think?”

It was Steve’s turn to look at her. Robin wasn’t sure what he saw as he silently gazed at her, but she could tell something had settled in him. “Tell me what you think.”

Robin took a deep breath, “I think that the Upside Down fucked us all up in ways that we can’t even count.”

Steve grunted, but let her continue.

“But also think that as time passed, we all made lives for ourselves. Some of us with each other, like you and Eddie, or Lucas and Max. Some needed distance, like Mike. But we all became these things outside of the trauma, but we couldn’t exactly escape said trauma. So we all had our ways of coping. Me, throwing myself into academics, you with overexercising—don’t give me that look; I’m sure we can unpack that another time—but for Eddie, he made this wonderful life with you, and outside of you. Got big, and got a record deal. But he still had that trauma. So add famous rockstar plus unhealed trauma, and it usually equates to partying and addiction.”

“Where are you going with this robs?” Steve scrunched his eyebrows.

“I have a point, I promise. He loved you, and two things are usually offered to these rockstars: sex and drugs. And God—that boy loved you. Would never think about cheating, so I think he got it into his head that drugs were the solution. Maybe he got into his head that it would help him, or cure him. I’m not sure, who knows what goes on in Munson’s head.”

Steve giggled. Robin can’t help but feel she’d done something right. “It doesn’t matter why he did it, though. It doesn’t matter how much he loved you. Because you tried. You tried to make it work. You tried to get him to accept help. You tried to put up with the long nights, and the I’m sorry’s and the ER scares. It reached the point where, even though I love you both, I couldn’t stand to see the ghost of the person you had become. So you gave him a choice, to get sober or lose you, and he chose wrong. Not because he didn’t love you, not because you’re the problem, but because Eddie Munson doesn’t know a good decision if stared him in the face.”

Steve pushed his head against Robin’s “So you don’t think I made a dumb decision, that I deserve this?”

Robin held his face in her hands, “No, babe. In fact, I actually want to murder him for violating your trust and exposing you raw like this. Like how the fuck does he get to sing about heartbreak and make money off of something he could of fix. The only reason I’m not busting down his door right now is because of you.”

“I’m not exactly stopping you Robbie.”

“No, sweet Stevie, but I, unfortunately, know the inevitable truth. That you guys are going to end up together, he’s got a lot of work to do, and I get to at least punch him twice at unexpected times, but I know you both. I think that you guys are a force impossible to separate, always finding your way back to each other. Kinda like us.”

There’s a watery mist built up in Steve’s eyes, “No Robs. Nothing can be like us. Not even Eddie.”

Robin tried to hold back her sob, “Yea, okay. Nothing can beat us; I promise you that. But either way, I do know this: You, Steve Harrington, deserve the world, and one day that man is going to give it to you. But for now, we’re going to cry about what a piece of selfish shit he is, and how I get to record him groveling when he inevitably realizes what an asswipe he was.”

Steve settled back into her side, “So, no killing him? Only trash talking?”

“I feel it’s only right we at least do that. Maybe hold off on our first actual murder charge.” Robin nodded.

“Maybe you shouldn’t hear the next lyric.” Steve moved to grab the cd out of the player, but Robin stopped him, reached across Steve, and hit play.

A love once pure,

now turned to rust,

Betrayal's sting

now we're in disgust,

Echoes of laughter

that haunt my mind,

In faded memories,

I'm left behind.

Robin was silent.

Steve put a hand on her shoulder, “Robin? Babe?”

Robin turned to Steve very slowly, as the weight of everything came over her. This was her best friend, her soulmate. How dare someone blame him for wanting to actually heal, how dare that little weas—

“Robs?” Steve spoke softly. “You okay?”

“What? Oh yea. I’m just going to need your bat. I’ve changed my mind on that murder charge.”

And although she was serious, Robin couldn’t help the smile that cracked on her face when she heard Steve’s laughter echo through the apartment.

***

sorry I know this hurt a lil bit, I can’t believe I wrote purely angst. I hope even if this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, you liked it. Thanks for all the laughs and love.

find the request game here

83 notes · View notes

crystallizsch · 1 month

Note

HI!! jumping in here because I’m pretty awkward starting convos and those ask prompts were perfect for breaking the ice

I get the feeling you’ll get a lot of jamil asks so I’m gonna throw a curve ball and ask about deuce with 9 and 18 (since it seems like you also like heartslabyul hehe)

AA HI HII!! It’s so cool to finally talk with you! And aaah i get it, i feel similarly hfkdjsks but it makes me happy that you decided to send an ask thank you! 😭💖

ANYWAYS DEUCE YES and you’re right i love heartslabyul, especially the duo, so thanks for this!

jamil my beloved he needs to take a back seat again for a bit afklsjs

━━━━━━✦ 9. Could you be roommates with [Deuce]?

I’ve roomed with siblings my whole life (at least up until college) so i think i totally could be roommates with Deuce! idk he gives little brother vibes despite being an only child

Something that reminded me, I checked to see and in the 2nd halloween event, apparently he grinds his teeth in his sleep (which is probably a whole thing to address??? but i dont know much to give an opinion ;;;)

anyways i’m pretty used to noises at night and the general shenanigans that comes with rooming with younger siblings (there’s no privacy but admittedly it’s less lonely) (but i do prefer privacy). and I imagine deuce anyway to be the respectful type and just tries his best to be considerate

but yeah in any case i could be roommates with him if I didnt have the choice to room alone akjdksjsks

Also slight tangent i looked up his room and damn it’s so neat???

he has a ton of books this boy 😭😭

also he has a little picture frame awhh

i imagine it may be a picture of him and his mom??? which honestly would be pretty ballsy because you’d think a boy that age would not even consider proudly putting that up because of ridicule (then again he’s also not afraid to fight). but that’s also what i love about deuce, he loves his mom and he cares enough to show it despite what anyone thinks 😭 (or maybe it could be just displaying one of his achievements or something idk idk hgkjdsfjlds)

Man i know the heartslabyul dorm rooms are pretty but it feels so unrealistic for that it is THIS clean and organized (there’s probably some kinda rule in there somewhere keeping it clean i imagine hfhjdjdj)

━━━━━━✦ 18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

ACE THE SINGLE BRAIN CELL DYNAMIC IDIOTS THAT VALUE EACH OTHER AS FRIENDS bromance real

AND JUST THE WHOLE MAIN FOUR IN GENERAL

I think adeuce have that type of friendship where they butt heads and make fun of each other a lot, because that’s like how they show that they are comfortable with one another and that, out of all people, they choose each other as the main person to hang out with.

I think if it weren’t for what happened in the prologue they wouldn’t be as close as friends. It felt like an excuse for them to bond and get to know each other properly despite their differences (and they're roommates so if none of that happened i think they'd only be acquaintances at most)

I also love that during events whenever the other is not involved, it’s always so funny one of them is usually like “wow it’s such a shame ace/deuce is not here”

actually I dont think there’s an event where BOTH ace and deuce is in an event together??? man🧍(unless i'm forgetting something)

but also when is twst gonna finally have the main quartet all be involved in an event together 🤨

AAH i’m just a sucker for the friend duo/trio (+ occasional creature/animal) trope.

I’m lovingly chewing on their dynamic every time

still open for asks!

#SORRY FOR THE DELAY #i went to sleep ;;#ALSO FELLOW JAMIL ENJOYER RAAHH #love your jamil stuff #so i was surprised when i saw you in my inbox #i was ALJDFLJSASK such an honor hi #✦'-asks #✧'-ask-game #twst #twisted wonderland #★'-twst-rambles

11 notes · View notes

snowbabys · 2 years

Note

12 + 18 for jake please ^.^ i loved gardening club so i’m excited to see how you’ll write this!

a/n: aaah omg thank you so much for reading gc <3 i literally rewrote this twice cause i didn't like how it turned out, but then i had an idea that finally clicked (even tho i'm not fully satisfied with it) and it's a bit different than what i usually write, so i'm really hoping you like this one! also ignore any mistakes or misspelling, i'm about to sleep over my keyboard.

12. "What makes you think I'd let you leave?" + 18. "Cover up my marks and I'll add more."

tw/warning: a bit suggestive, swearing (?).

You walked by the closet doors for what felt like the thousandth time, bored of tiptoeing around the house while trying not to bump into Jake somewhere. He'd let you get away a few times when he heard your hurried footsteps in a nearby room, only to then tease you by knocking on the door or walls next to you, laughing at the cute surprised and disappointed sounds that left your lips. Finding you was so easy, as always.

You finally went inside the closet, ignoring how obvious it was, just to have your body engulfed by Jake's arms. His breath tickled your neck when he left an amused chuckle.

"You're supposed to get better at this, not worse, babe," he said as he turned you around to face him, his lips touching the tip of your nose in the process.

"Can't I just go out like any normal human being?" you sighed tiredly. "I miss my friends," Jake sighed, too. He hated your friends and hated that you wanted to meet them so badly, so he came up with the idea of stupid hide-and-seek games to give you a hint of hope and make you think he'd ever let you win.

"What makes you think I'd let you leave? You lost again."

"Yeah, but..." you raised your dominant hand, touching his cheek while trying your best with puppy eyes and a pout. "C'mon, just this once, and I'll never ask for it again."

Jake bit his lower lip, amused by your demeanor. "If denying it makes you touch me more, it's still a big no."

"I'm not cuddling you before sleep anymore," you attempted to distance yourself from your boyfriend.

"Alright, alright," he seemed to think for a moment, holding your hands to his chest while doing so, grunting when he made up his mind. "Well, if you're spending hours with those predators, let me send them a message," he pulled you close by your arms, softly squeezing them when you rested your head on his shoulder, excited that you convinced him.

You didn't expect Jake to bite your neck and suck on your skin, holding you close to him even when you slapped his chest. When you were finally able to get him off of you, he gave you a smirk.

"Fuck you," you said, running to the closest mirror. You observed the bruise he made, ready to find whatever makeup you had in the house to hide his jealousy.

"Nu-uh, baby. You're going out with these for everyone to see," before you could make any move, Jake came up behind you, hugging you tightly against him. A huge smile plastered his face, happy with the marks. "Cover up my marks and I'll add more."

prompt game | game's masterlist

#enhypen yandere #yandere enha #yandere jake #yandere jake sim #yandere au #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #kpop yandere #enhypen yandere au #jake x reader #jake sim x reader #yandere!jake x reader #jake sim #sim jaeyun #enhypen

249 notes · View notes

beachy--head · 1 year

Note

that list is sooooo japril coded‼️Either prompt 24, 43, or 56 whichever inspires u most queen

43. Pretend to be my date

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please??"

Jackson is not the begging type, so him saying "pretty please" to April Kepner just before rounds start is pretty unusual. But his grandfather is sending him to a fancy luncheon tomorrow, to represent the Avery institution (not family, he noticed, only the institution), and he knows the trap of showing up as a pretty, available Avery at these kind of things, so he fully intends to come prepared this time.

"No! Why don't you ask Reed?"

"The whole point of bringing a date to this reception thing is to keep the other girls off my back. Reed is going to set her sights on the first man that wears a suit and leave me alone, which defeats the whole purpose of bringing a girl with me. Please pretend to be my date for this thing?"

"Ask, I don't know, the intern who was flirting with you yesterday during rounds?"

"Nah, I don't want her to get her hopes up."

April shrugs, as if to say "not my problem", and starts to walk away. He follows her, and for someone so short, she moves impressively fast.

"I thought we were friends?"

"Friends? Last week you stole that surgery from me."

"It was a coronary artery bypass graft, I couldn't– Listen, I already apologized and bought you Chinese takeout. You almost ruined me with all the fortune cookies you ate. We're friends again. And friends don't let each other get swallowed by a sea of vapid, phony rich people who only want them for their family names. Well, and their looks."

The sad thing is that he's not boasting, he's just being honest.

"So your problem is that you don't want gorgeous, sophisticated women throwing themselves at you? Give me a cue when I have to cry."

"Please? There'll be free food?"

"I have food at home, thank you very much."

"I'll let you meet my mom."

That's enough to make April stop in her tracks.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Face to face?"

"What if she calls you on the phone?"

"Face to face, at least 10 minutes, and I can geek as much as I want about the urethra reconstruction she did in New York last month."

"That sounds fi–"

"Without you rolling your eyes next to me."

April Kepner drives a hard bargain, but he really, really doesn't want to show up to this thing alone, so he'll even oooh and aaah when his mom and his friend talk if that means she'll pretend to be his date.

"Fine. Be ready at 11."

"Great! And don't forget to call your mom!" she chirps before walking away, and for a minute, he wonders what he's just gotten himself into.

#japril #drabble #jackson avery #april kepner #ask

35 notes · View notes

dustofthedailylife · 2 years

Note

HIIIIIIII

IT'S MY FIRST TIME REQUESTING ON YOUR PAGE AND IM SUPER EXCITED

It might be a little complicated but please don't feel like you have to strictly stay in what I've said, you're free to change and add some details!

Can I request a angst fic / one-shot/ drabble/ headcanon or whatever you want;

Reader was childhood friends with diluc and kaeya, she/they(it doesn'tmatter, you can use whichever you want) eventually fell in love with diluc but he is in love with someone else (maybe jean, or someone else who you ship diluc with). Reader doesn't tell him she loves him because he is happy with that person, meanwhile kaeya is in love with reader, but doesn't tell her because he knows she loves his brother?

And maybe reader moves on from diluc and kaeya and reader become closer and maybe end up together?

I hope it isn't too long and if it is, you don't have to write the last part

P.S: Sorry for my poorly chosen words, English is not my native language (^_^;

I hope you're fine with emoji anons, imma use one

-⛄️

Have a good day, don't overwork yourself and take care <3

A/N: Hey ⛄! I do accept emojii anons and you're offically my first one now, I'm very excited! >///<

I loved this prompt, I love writing angst and this was so fun to write! I didn't go with Jean and Diluc but instead a nameless partner for him because that leaves room for imagination for the Reader. I also didn't write the last part because I couldn't fit it into a one shot anymore, aaah I'm sorry, I hope it's okay >.<

Pairings: Diluc x Reader (unreciprocrated feelings); Kaeya x Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of alcohol, unreciprocated feelings, comfort at the end if you squint, no gendered pronouns used for Reader

You knew Diluc since you were a child and you basically grew up with him and Kaeya at the Winery, thanks to your mom working there as a maid. During that time, the Winery could basically be considered your second home because of how often you tagged along with your mum. At first because you liked to play with the boys and stir up all sorts of trouble around the vineyard but the older you became the more it was because of your ever growing crush on Diluc.

You had always dreamt about the day he would confess his feelings for you and how he would smile at you, with a lovestruck expression on his face. Telling you he reciprocated your feelings, except – that never happened and would never happen either. His heart was already occupied by someone else, a beautiful and gentle woman from Mondstadt, perfect in every meaning of the word. He loved her and everyone else did as well, they were the most popular couple in the entire town and everyone turned their head at them in awe whenever they were around.

You were happy for him, you truly were - he definitely deserved it after all the dark times he’s had to face in his life already, but at the same time it broke your heart into a thousand pieces whenever you had to see them together. So ever since they’ve been together, you’ve tried to avoid Diluc to the best of your abilities, for your own sake. You hoped your feelings for him would eventually fade if you did so but instead they grew even stronger. The way he smiled at her, the way they laughed together and the way he walked around with her hand in hand – you couldn’t help but feel envious every single time. This could be you if you would’ve opened your mouth when you still had the chance, you thought to yourself more often than you’d like to admit.

And tonight was well on the way to turn out to be one of those heart-shattering days again. Today was the start of the Windblume festival and the whole city was in high spirits. The evening had actually started great, you were standing with Kaeya and a few other Knights at the square and were having some drinks, the spirits were high and some were already a little tipsy, all was good – at least until a familiar couple joined the festivities.

You could tell who had arrived before you even turned around to look, the air was filled with excited giggles and gasps, even the group you were standing with had fallen quiet and were looking in their direction. When you glanced around you saw Diluc standing there with her, his arm linked with her and chatting with some local. He occasionally looked at her affectionately and his eyes started to shine. You again couldn’t help but imagine him looking at you this way, if only you’d have told him about your feelings.

You felt a lump form in your throat and your heart shatter into a million pieces again. How many heartbreaks could one possibly survive?

You hated her, you hated the way he looked at her, you hated the way she made him smile but what you hated the most was how much you loved him even though he doesn’t and would never love you back. You knew it and you still couldn’t stop your heart from shattering every single time you saw them together.

Diluc looked around and suddenly his eyes met yours and you had the impression that his eyes became a little more dull the moment they did. The corner of his mouth twitched up a little and he lifted his free hand to gesture a casual greeting to you. You nodded in his direction and swallowed thickly, struggling to hold the tears back that you were dangerously close to shedding. You were such a fool. He didn't care one bit about you.

You looked to the ground and quickly excused yourself from the group you were standing with and rushed outside of the city walls. You needed to get away from here quickly and maybe also find some alcohol along the way that you could numb the pain with.

Kaeya had immediately noticed that something was amiss, in fact, he knew precisely what was up. He had known for the longest time that you had feelings for his brother and he knew how you felt when you saw Diluc and his partner. Because all those years, that was exactly how he had felt whenever he saw you look at Diluc with so much admiration in your eyes. He had always wished you’d look at him the same way for he would pick the stars out of the night sky if only you’d ask him to do so. He had held his feelings back all those years, similarly to what you had done with your feelings towards Diluc, because he knew he wouldn’t have had a chance when your heart already belonged to someone else. All he could do was be there for you when you were feeling down because, god knows, he knew what it felt like to have no shoulder to lean on.

He felt his heart throb when he heard your voice as you excused yourself from the group - coarse, as if you were about to cry and he knew you were about to. He decided to follow you and found you in front of the city gates, huddled up against a tree in the grass with a bottle of wine, crying silently and cussing at yourself. It shattered his heart to see you like this and he wanted nothing more than to make you feel better, but he knew he couldn’t because the only thing that would fix your broken heart was Diluc, and he couldn’t give you that.

“Hey!” He approached you and spoke in a soft tone, a compassionate smile on his face. “Tough evening?”

You nodded and quickly wiped the tears out of your eyes with the back of your hand. You forced a smile and looked up at him but your shaking bottom lip betrayed you and revealed how you really felt.

Kaeya sat down next to you and grabbed the bottle out of your hand and took a sip out of it.

“Oof, that’s strong. Are you sure you can handle that?” He teased and nudged your side with his elbow to which you gave him a small snicker. He noticed you had stopped crying at least, even though you still wore a sad expression on your face.

“Kaeya?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I will ever find someone who loves me, too?” You leaned your head against his shoulder and tilted your head up to look at his face.

He huffed in response and paused for a brief moment, plucking some blades of grass out of the ground beneath him before tossing them away. He donned an honest smile, turned back to you and put one of his arms around your shoulders lovingly.

“There already is someone who loves you. I’m sure of that.”

#🍁 dust reqs #🍁 dust mail #⛄ anon #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin angst #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #diluc and kaeya #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader #genshin x female reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin drabbles #genshin x y/n #genshin scenarios #kaeya alberich #diluc ragnvindr

189 notes · View notes

dragonologist-phd · 9 months

Note

🍼 for Piper?

thank you!

🍼for a scene as an infant

i've started posting these to ao3, so you can also read this and my other piper prompts here!

Almana sits in front of her mirror, getting herself ready for the day ahead of her. It’s been a season of high travel through the city, and more travelers means more work for her; there is nothing tourists with extra coin love more than to get their fortunes told by a beautiful mystic, after all. And there is nothing Almana loves more than collecting her own fortune from the visitors. It always helps to look the part, and so she does, taking the extra time to hang tinkling jewelry from her curled horns and line her eyes perfectly with kohl.

At Almana’s side, a small child lies in her crib, babbling happily as she watches the morning sunbeams dance through the window. When Almana has finished her own preparations, she turns to coo over the small girl, a smile playing on her lips.

It’s still hard for her to believe that she’s a mother. That this is her daughter, her lovely baby, her little Philimina.

It’s a long name for such a little thing, but it’s pretty- and it suits her. Almana’s daughter is beautiful, everyone says so, and the compliments make Almana glow every time. She takes delight in showing off her daughter to friends and clients alike, and nobody can resist fawning over the sweet babe with bright clear eyes and thick silver curls. The coloring is all her father’s- Leon��s a looker, too (which is exactly why little Philimina exists in the first place.)

Still. Almana need only look in the mirror to know she’s nothing short of a beauty herself, and she knows she bears just as much of the credit for her daughter’s charms.

The tiny tiefling girl lets out a gurgle and a giggle as Almana lifts her from the crib, and she reaches up to grab at her mother’s dangling jewelry. She’s an even-tempered child, rarely crying or making a fuss, but she does have an eye for shiny things. Almana carefully extricates her necklace from little Philimina’s grip, shifting herself to hold the child at a distance where she can’t grab for Almana's earrings instead.

"Now, now, that's not for you." Almana’s eyes land on the table in the center of the room, decorated with the items for her shows, and an idea occurs to her. “How about this instead?”

In a well-practiced motion she sweeps the tarot deck from the table and fans it out in front of her daughter. Little Philimina giggles in delight, her eyes fixing on the reflective gold designs curling across the backs of the cards.

“Pick a card,” Almana recites, waving the cards enticingly. “And your fortune shall be revealed.”

The child giggles again, and after another inviting wave of the deck she reaches out and awkwardly grasps at one of the cards. Almana flicks it over to reveal an intricately decorated circle, enshrined in a border of golden clouds and winged serpents.

“Aaah…the Wheel of Fortune. This is a special card, indeed- wait, no!”

Almana nearly drops the rest of the deck as she hurriedly pulls the chosen card away from the baby, who is trying very determinedly to place the Wheel of Fortune in her mouth. She wipes the card on her skirts, praying that baby drool doesn’t stain, and places the deck back on the table.

Meanwhile, the baby starts to whine at the loss of her prize, and Alamana winces at the noise as she lays her daughter back in her crib. “Hush, now, hush. Maybe we’ll revisit that when you’re a bit older, hmm?”

#thanks for the prompt!#ch: piper

9 notes · View notes

winter-turtle · 2 years

Text

Banner made by @retro-memo 💙

My contribution to @multiverse-irondad-july

Marmoris

In his many years aboard his pirate ship, Captain Tony Stark has seen many things; all kinds of sea creatures, storms that tear ships apart, clusters of stars falling, treasures beyond one's imagination… and hostages.

Peter Parker, a son from a big merchant family, was basically a golden goose. And here he was, walking around the port, unguarded.

So, they snatched the kid and now have to keep him prisoner until his family pays the ransom. Seriously, how hard can it be?

READ ON AO3

Chapter 1

Prompt: hostage

Robbing merchant ships, he left that to others. To those crazy ones. He's witnessed a fair share of pirate ships sinking because those fools bit off more than they could chew. Not to mention the merchant ships have gotten more armed to prevent the attacks.

So, no thanks. Tony didn't have a death wish. Gallows weren't his style and he loved his ship, Friday, more than anything else.

But one still had to make a (dis)honest living. That's where the hostages - his crew's specialty - came in.

All it took was some rich merchant’s moment of inattention, and the crew’s pay was secured. Some begged for their life right away, offering money and whatnot, and those more defiant were quickly put in their place with a simple threat to walk the plank or a knife to a throat. No blood had to be shed – after all, they were professionals – and once the payment was received, the hostage was dropped off in the nearest port.

When Rhodey ran up to him in the Baybell Port, all excited about their newest possible victim, none of them had any idea what they would be getting into.

Peter Parker, a son from a big merchant family, was basically a golden goose. And here he was, walking around unguarded.

It was obvious he was trying to blend into the crowd. For anyone untrained, it would be nearly impossible to pick him out from the sea of people, but Tony's crew had good eyes. Despite the simple design and muted colors, his clothes were all too new and good quality for that part of the seaside town. There was also the matter of how he carried himself and took everything in with a spark of wonder in his eyes. Not to mention his shoes, made of shiny brown leather, were way too clean.

You can tell a lot about the person by their shoes, Tony's mother used to say.

These sheltered kids, naïve and gullible, were quick and easy money.

While Rhodey kept tailing the kid to make sure no one else would try to snatch and use him to shake some money from his family, Tony rushed ahead to gather the rest.

About five minutes down the road the kid was on, there was a small pub owned by Tony's old friend Happy. Tony positioned himself right outside the entrance while others waited inside for his signal.

The instant their future victim turned the corner, Tony raised his glass to his lips. Loud cheering and clinking of glass erupted from inside. Rhodey picked up the pace, nudging the kid slightly in the process, and disappeared into the pub. More cheers followed.

As expected, that got his attention. "Someone's in a good mood," he commented with a slight smile.

"Aaah," Tony downed the rest of his drink and stood up, "they're celebrating. A daughter was born to the captain." Ever so casually, he threw a hand around the kid's shoulders and began to lead him inside. "Come join us. You know what they say, the more, the merrier. And the captain's paying," he added with a wink.

"Oh? Oh, no thank you, I don't want to intrude."

"Harold! One more beer for our friend here!"

“It’s fine, sir. You don’t have to—”

“Nonsense,” Tony basically shoved the kid on the wooden chair next to Rhodey, then sitting down, essentially trapping him, “besides, it’s already poured. That would be a waste of perfectly good beer if you walked out now.”

The kid kept protesting half-heartedly, thankfully not finding holes in Tony’s logic, but Tony could see that thrill on his face. He could bet his ship this kid was seeking adventure in the uncharted territories denied to him by his upbringing.

Forbidden fruit was always the sweetest.

"What's the matter, big boy?" Natasha said as she put the pint in front of the kid. She leaned on his shoulder, putting her cleavage on display. "Never had a beer before?"

The kid's eyes briefly flashed to the exposed area before he pointedly looked to the other side, his cheeks dusting pink. Exactly what Natasha needed to pour a small vial of clear liquid into the drink. "No. Of course I had a beer before."

She laughed and ruffled his hair. "My, aren't you a polite thing." Then she was gone, off to work on a ransom note.

The first sip the kid took proved his previous statement a lie. Good. At least he won't notice anything odd about the taste.

The rest of them kept up the ruse of congratulating Steve on his non-existent child until the kid's pint was nearly empty and his eyelids started to grow heavy. He was slouching in his chair, head resting in his palm.

"I sh'd go. 's getting late."

Rhodey rested his elbow on the kid's shoulder, preventing him from standing up. Not like he would've walked far, but still. "Already? But you've been only a little while! Don't you want another beer?"

"Nnnnnn-" By some miracle, he shook Rhodey off, placed his hands on the table and heaved himself upwards. Yeah, no way he would be able to walk away from here on his own. Just a bit longer… "Hafta get back b'fore they r'lise I sneak'd out," he whisper-slurred.

Tony's heart skipped a beat. Was the kid for real? He sneaked out? That would explain the lack of guards, but that meant no one knew he was missing yet.

Ooh, the day just got way better.

"Come on, one more," Thor caught the kid's unfocused gaze. "So the captain's son will be strong and healthy."

"…son?"

Damn it, Thor.

"I thought you s... you said dau'ter?"

"Uh... he has twins?"

The kid looked around the table, no doubt noticing everyone watching him like sharks watched their prey. His breathing picked up. "I... I have to... go."

He didn't make it two steps before his knees gave in, and if it wasn't for Tony leaping from his chair and catching the kid under his arms, he would've fallen like a sack of potatoes.

Doing kidnappings for a living was risky as it was, but unnecessary injuries were bound to attract even more wrath of powerful people. Tony didn’t need that for his crew. Besides, the kid was already destined to have a killer headache once he woke up. Why add to that?

Those few weak kicks and struggles ceased soon after, and the kid went totally limp.

Natasha emerged from the back room, a dark cloak draped over her shoulders.

"Got the note?" Clint asked.

She held up a letter with an A pressed into the red wax.

"How much are we asking?"

"Five thousands."

Rhodey whistled. "Damn. Kid's worth a lot more than I thought."

"Be ready to sail once I get back," she said, threw the hood on her head and left.

Tony looked back at others and jerked his head towards the dead weight in his arms. "Let's get him onto the ship."

In his many years aboard his pirate ship, countless hostages have found themselves in the brig. Tony, however, has never seen anything, or anyone, like this.

"And, you know, I've never had anything like that before. The taste was certainly unique, but it wasn't bad—"

Jeez, this one just won't shut up, will he?

The kid woke up disoriented, which surprised no one. The crew left him there for a moment to regain enough of his bearings to realize what was happening, then got him some water, and as per usual, explained where he was and why.

Now Tony waited for a reaction. Defiance? Confusion? Begging? Would it be tears? That would be understandable, the kid was on the younger side and pretty much at the age limit they were willing to take. Nobody needed to hear a constant wailing of some child. They’d made that mistake once. Never again.

But no. To Tony’s utter horror, the kid looked almost… excited. No, that wasn’t exactly right. There was that badly hidden curiosity he saw back at the port too. It never seemed to leave the kid’s eyes.

He was willing to brush it off. After all, their hostage wouldn’t be going anywhere, with him being locked up below and all – except that little shit somehow managed to pick the lock and casually strolled on the deck!

“Uh- hi,” he waved, awkward smile on his face. Everyone just froze and stared. “Am… am I not supposed to be up here?”

They made a quick work of tying his hands behind his back and leading him back to the cell, where another nasty surprise awaited. Apparently, the brat somehow managed to damage the lock so it wouldn’t click all the way.

A sheepish grimace crossed the kid’s face. “Oops?”

The day that started seemingly great already felt impossibly long, and the dinner wasn’t served yet. “Please,” Tony turned his eyes to the sky, “give me a rest.”

But did the sky listen?

No.

An hour later, Barton scrambled up on the deck, begging someone to take his place because the kid wouldn’t shut up.

Barton! Who has gone half deaf from the cannons!

“He just keeps on going,” he lamented. “The threats did nothing. He talks even if you ignore him! I need a break,” was all he said before shuffling over to the hammock on the quarterdeck.

So, they had to settle this by drawing straws, and as Tony’s luck had it, he drew the shortest one. Captain or not, he had to go below deck and sit in the uncomfortable wooden chair placed against the wall next to the cell door for an hour to earn his two hours of peace before risking getting drafted again.

Someone up there had to have it out for him today.

“This is your first kidnapping, isn’t it?”

The kid’s head tilted to the side, reminding Tony of a puppy. “… yes,” he admitted, averting his gaze briefly. “How did you know?”

“Just a lucky guess,” Tony deadpanned. Well, that certainly explained a thing or two. Just how exactly has he made it this far in life without getting himself into something similar? “You know, hostages aren’t supposed to talk this much.”

“O-oh. I understand.”

Thank the Lord! Tony thought. Finally some damn peace and quiet.

“So… what is the limit? How much should I talk? Or shouldn’t. I need something to work with here since, you know, I’m kind of new to all of this. Are there some official protocols I have to read or—”

If he could go back in time, he would’ve first slapped Rhodey for suggesting this whole thing and then himself for agreeing. With his right hand covering his face, his left hand reached for his pocket watch to check how much time he had left.

Twenty-eight minutes.

“I meant you shouldn’t talk at all,” Tony said through gritted teeth. Damn, he should’ve left him to make out with the floor back in the pub. “Hostages don’t talk. Period.”

Silence.

“But what if I have to go to the bathroom? Or ask for more water?”

Oh no, he won’t be able to do this. The noise will make his own head hurt—

Hold on…

“Hey,” Tony looked over his shoulder. There was that telltale strain around the kid’s brown eyes as he rested his forehead against the metal bars. Yes, this could work. “Be honest with me. Your head hurts, right?”

The kid’s lips pressed into a thin line, avoiding Tony’s face. Then, he reluctantly nodded.

“Okay, I’ll cut you a deal,” Tony paused to make sure the kid was listening, then continued, “I’ll get you something to help you with the headache if you promise to keep quiet for the foreseeable future. What do you say? Pretty sweet deal if I, an honest businessman, say so myself.”

“You’re a pirate. Nothing honest about you.”

A pirate? Excuse you, he wasn’t just any pirate. He was a pirate captain. “Don’t sass me. So? Do we have a deal?”

Some of the tension in the kid’s shoulders and around his eyes dissipated, no doubt in relief. “Deal.”

“Good boy,” Tony stood up, smiling. “Stay right where you are. I’ll be right back.”

When he got to the cabinets where the medical supplies were kept, he was met with Steve, who was organizing the fresh ones. “Don’t mind me,” Tony said as he rummaged through the drawers.

“What are you looking for?”

“Just a little something to help our little golden goose with his heada- aha!” he held out a similar vial Natasha had used earlier.

Tony wasn’t taking any chances. The kid would stay quiet.

The vial was plucked from his grasp. “No,” Steve said firmly, putting a different vial in Tony’s hand. “This one is for the headaches.”

“I know,” Tony rolled his eyes. “If I wanted this one, I would just take it, don’t you think?”

Steve merely put the vial back into the drawer and locked it, not breaking eye contact at all.

“That’s freaky, Rogers.”

“Go.”

“I’m the captain. You can’t make me.”

The man’s hard expression turned into a very smug one. “Well, captain, I’m pretty sure you still have over twenty minutes of guard duty. You wouldn’t want to make it another hour if the crew calls foul play, would you?”

Tony closed his palm around the vial and walked out of the room, but not before muttering, “I hope you get picked next, see how you like it.”

#irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #pirates #seven seas july 2022 #tony stark #peter parker #marvel fanfiction

36 notes · View notes

tomago · 2 years

Note

hi if youre taking kiss prompt requests right now then may i request kisses in the rain w jun? your writing is lovely btw :))

to you, jun sazanami

♡︎ AAAH... THANK U SM NONNIE hope u don't mind me scooting in my bffie's req in this as well! i'll make it extra special for both of u <3 (and to u wet shaking little guy . Hi . (hanfds u bingus) )

prompt list

to you, the rain was neither friend nor foe. it was more of an acquaintance, but you were nonetheless not a stranger to the melancholic comfort it gives. there was no sun reflecting in the pools the rain made; perhaps, you could even say that the rain and you were somewhat alike. perhaps that is why you find solitude in dousing yourself in it's harsh and cold environment.

your tears could get mixed with the rain, and no one would have to see how vulnerable you were. your laughs could be lost in the sound of rain, and no one would have to see how childish you were. your smile could be lost in the foggy atmosphere of the rain, and no one would have to see how you really are.

oh, but not to jun. he was the one who seemed to know you better than yourself, who takes your hands in his and looks at you in the eyes — probably either declaring his love for you or wanting you to be his player two in the new video game he bought.

and all in a fickle moment, the rain stopped — at least, for you, while everywhere else the rain continues to pour on.

"geez, you'll need to bring your own umbrella next time! you're soaking!"

you turned to jun. he was there, holding up an umbrella for you. an unstoppable smile rises in your face, and before you knew it — you had kissed him on the spot.

to you, who inspired a love in him that lasted for eternities with a single kiss.

#jun sazanami #sazanami jun #enstars #gn reader #requested #kiss prompts #um . its abiut to be 3am iam sooo sorry if there r errors or itdoesng make sense

38 notes · View notes

kakyoinswifey · 2 years

Text

200 FOLLOWERS EVENT

AAAH! I'm so excited! A few days ago I reached 200 followers and that makes me very happy! Thank you very much to the people who enjoy what I write, actually I am a girl who does it for fun, but I really enjoy knowing that there are those who read me and think that what I do is nice. You don't know how much I appreciate you, I send you all the love in the world and the best energies for everything that may be happening to you.

Returning to the main topic, I decided to make an event to celebrate! I chose some songs from my playlist (some are from my friend @needy-self-ship-jjba, GO READ HER BLOG TOO, PLEASE) and basically, what I had in mind was this: I have put songs in a list and you can choose one (or more) for me to write something with these prompts and a character, BUT you can choose if you want me to write it with the theme of the song (example: if the song talks about a sad story about a marriage, you can request that theme with the phrase I chose.) OR you just pick the phrase and a character. PLEASE, be precise to prevent confusions. That's all! Remember to check which characters do I write for! OH, and you can say if you want it to be SFW or NSFW. I will receive the requests and I will try to post them as soon as possible!

PROMPT LIST

Washing Machine Heart - "I'm not wearing my usual lipstick, I thought maybe we would kiss tonight."

Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy - "I'd like for you and I to go romancing"

Dark Red - "I just hope you don't want to leave me." / "Honey, I belong with you and only you."

Stay - "I hope I occupy your mind, no one deserves you, you're mine."

Boyfriend - I could be a better boyfriend than him, do all the shit he never did.

Addiction - "You just gotta listen closely to me, I need you, me, us."

Show me how - "My heart fell to love again."

Happy Together - "I can't see me loving nobody but you for all my life." / "The only one for me is you, and you for me."

I wanna be yours - "You call the shots, I just wanna be yours."

Just kiss her - "I'm sure this is the girl. You think she looks at me?"

Make you mine - "You know that I want to be with you all the time" - "You know that I won't stop until I make you mine"

Training wheels - "I love everything you do, when you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do." / "I wanna make you mine but it's hard to say."

Me! - "I promise that nobody's gonna love you like me."

House of Memories - "I think of you from time to time, more than I thought I would."

Golden Days - "Right now our future's certain, I won't let it fade away."

Nicotine - "I taste you on my lips and I can't get rid of you."

Girls/Girls/Boys - "And never did I think that I would be caught in the way you got me."

The End Of All Things - "Whether near or far, I am always yours." - "In these coming years, many things will change, but the way I feel will remain the same."

Sunflower - "I promise I'm the one for you, just let me hold you in these arms tonight."

Off the races - "Who else is gonna put up with me this way? I need you, I breath you, I'll never leave you."

Lover - "Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close?"

How deep is your love - "And you may not think I care for you, when you know down inside that I really do" / "And it's me you need to show how deep is your love." / "We belong to you and me."

More than a woman - "I know that in a thousand years, I'd fall in love with you again."

Hapiness - "Will you still love me when nobody wants me around?"

Can't take my eyes of you - "I love you, baby" / "And if it's quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm my lonely nights."

#jjba x reader #jjba #jojo #jotaro x reader #jojo x reader #kakyoin x reader #aot x you #erwin x reader #aot x reader #levi x reader #hange x reader #jjba stardust crusaders #jjba imagines #aot imagines

29 notes · View notes

innytoes · 2 years

Note

Hi! Just wanted to let you know I am entirely sold on your caleb/ray/reggie abo au and am thriving on these snippets in it, I absolutely adore them all! It’s a niche I didn’t know I needed, but omega reggie has my heart and he deserves all the love ❤️ If you’re still open to it, I would love this prompt for them? ❛ hold still. this might sting a little. ❜

(Aaah anon I am so happy. Omega Reggie deserves all the love, indeed, and Ray and Caleb are Very Determined to give it to him. So just for you more of the Caleb/Ray/Reggie ABO AU.)

It took Reggie a while to get used to his newfound freedom. After Caleb and Ray sat him down and told him the Rules, he‘d had to fight disbelief. Because stuff like ‘don’t believe the cat and feed her again, she gets fed by Ray at the same time every morning, she’s not starving’ and ‘please leave a note and bring your phone if you’re going out’ were... well, after years with Paul slowly chipping away at his freedom and pushing him in a smaller and smaller box, and the strict schedule and regulations of the Shelter, they were kind of a joke.

But Ray and Caleb had been adamant that the short list of five rules were the only things they cared about. It took him a while to figure out that Ray and Caleb probably only made them up in the first place because Reggie asked for them. Still, something about knowing there weren’t any secret expectations or obligations, no landmines for him to step on, it eased something in his chest.

The first time he realised they were out of milk and that he could just go to the store and get some felt like both the best thing in the world and the most terrifying thing ever. Caleb had giving him a wallet with his own card and some cash, saying he could buy anything he wanted with it and giving him an obscene budget (rule five) per month.

His first time at the store without express permission in over seven years, he bought a jug of milk and a roll of Oreo cookies and never felt more free. He’d held his breath when he swiped the card, waiting for the little beep, before walking out of there with the biggest smile on his face.

It got easier after that. He still liked to do household chores when both Ray and Caleb were working, just to feel like he was contributing. But if there wasn’t anything pressing, sometimes he just sat in the garden with a book, enjoying the fact that there was no hour time limit of Outside Time. He’d play his guitar, serenading Pockets with little songs about her. He even made friends with the old lady across the street, who liked to pinch his cheek and call him a Charming Lad when he helped her carry heavy stuff or clean her gutters.

It became even more natural to leave the house without feeling like he needed permission, or a solid reason when they got Bucket. Of course the dog needed to go walkies. And Bucket didn’t care if they went to the beach, or the dog park, or to get ice cream, as long as he got to sniff stuff and do his business and harass Reggie for scritches every time they had to stop to cross the street.

Except it looked like he finally went to far. Literally. It had seemed like a great idea to take the bus and go to a nice hiking spot. Caleb was working all day in preparation for tomorrow night’s show, and Ray had a long shoot day.

He felt less great about his idea by the second as he tumbled down the steep hill. Especially when he finally managed to stop and realised his phone broke on the way down. Thankfully Bucket seemed okay, and yeah, Reggie was never going to live down that his three-legged dog was more nimble at making his way down than Reggie was.

By the time he got back on the bus, he had twigs in his hair, he was exhausted, and sore, and everything ached. Bucket had had the time of his life, though, and Reggie spent the ride back home bent over, snuggling the pup and avoiding eye-contact.

The second he came through the door, he was pulled into a hug by Ray. “Oh thank god,” he said, pulling Reggie close. Reggie winced, the sudden move hurting like hell, but before Ray could let him go, he wrapped his arms around him. Ray smelled upset, his scent spiky and anxious, but he still smelled like home.

“Where the hell were you, Reginald?” Caleb asked. His scent was sharp, rolling off him in waves, and Reggie whimpered. “We tried calling you several times and you didn’t pick up.”

If Caleb was home, he was definitely late. Like, super late. Stupid LA summers and their stupid late sunsets that made it impossible to tell what time it was. “Phone broke, sorry,” he mumbled into Ray’s shoulder. Then he pulled back, horrified. “Oh god I broke my phone.”

The fancy phone Caleb had gotten him, because it was red and it had a great camera to take fun pictures and so he could call home and be called when he was out. That was definitely in the Rules. He broke the Rules. “I’m sorry...” They’d only given him five and he’d broken one of the most important ones, oh god. “Caleb, I’m so sorry.” His eyes welled up with tears, and immediately, Caleb seemed to calm down, stepping back, his entire posture softening.

“We don’t care about the broken phone, pet,” Caleb said, cupping his cheek. “We were just worried about you. What happened?”

He let Ray guide him to the couch, trying not to wince when he sat down. He knew he looked a mess, dirt on his face and a hole in one of the few pairs of jeans that had been hole-less before, scrapes on his palms and knees. “I um...” he wasn’t quite sure how to say this without making his alphas anxiety worse. Just be cool. Casual. “I kind of fell down a mountain?”

The sudden spike in their scents was very noticeable, and he really should have done a better job thinking about what he was going to say on the way home. Instead, his mind had been swirling with ‘ouch ouch ouch’ and ‘don’t look at me please’ and ‘Bucket is such a good soft boy’ and ‘gotta get home, gotta get home’ and not much else. “We went to a nice hiking trail and I wanted to get a pretty picture of the view to send you... and then Bucket saw a bunny, and he yanked the leash, and I kind of... fell.”

“Oh pobrecito,” Ray said. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” Reggie nodded, because now that he was home, all he wanted was his alphas to take care of him. And thankfully, even though he broke his phone and broke the Rules and made them worry, they seemed to want to do it.

He let Ray and Caleb peel off his clothes, Caleb wrinkling his nose a little and muttering something about maybe finally getting Reggie some Decent Clothes. Ray rolled his eyes, winking at Reggie as he eased his jeans down. Reggie tried to smile back, but it turned into a hiss of pain when the jeans caught over his scraped up knee.

“We need to clean out those wounds,” Ray said, inspecting his knees. “Hold still, this might sting a little.” He pouted but nodded, letting Ray dab at them with a wet cloth. It hurt, and he pressed his face against Caleb’s neck, whining softly. Caleb stroked his hair, muttering reassurances. His scent was slowly going back to normal, less blizzard and more first snow. When Ray moved away to get the first aid kit, he pulled Reggie in his lap.

“I’m sorry I made you worry,” Reggie said, curling into him. “I’m sorry I broke my phone, and I’m sorry I broke the Rules.”

“Oh kitten,” Caleb said. “It was an accident. We’re not going to be upset with you because of an accident. I’m sorry I snapped at you. It’s not an excuse, but I was scared something had happened to you.”

“It’s okay,” Reggie said, snuggling closer. Yeah, Mad Caleb had been kind of scary, but when he thought about it, Reggie realised that he hadn’t actually been that afraid. Not like with Paul. He’d mostly been upset that he broke his phone and made Ray and Caleb worry.

“We’re getting you a better, less breakable phone, though,” Caleb said, smirking and pulling Reggie into a kiss. He went eagerly, deepening the kiss, moaning happily when Caleb slipped his tongue into Reggie’s mouth...

Before gasping and jerking his knee back. “Hey, ow!” he told Ray, who pulled back with the antiseptic wipe looking kind of guilty. He glared back at Caleb. “You did that on purpose to distract me.”

“Perhaps,” Caleb said, looking way too smug about it. “Did it help?”

“Yes,” Reggie huffed. “Do it again.”

#calebxrayxreggie #the caleb/ray/reggie ABO AU #a/b/o dynamics #julie and the phantoms #fanfic #AUs are awesome #Yes Reggie spams the group chat with Ray and Caleb with cute pictures of Pockets and Bucket #and other cute dogs they meet on their walks #sometimes they are graced with a rare selfie #Willie totally weirded out when he came to Caleb's office to find him staring all heart-eyed at his phone like: welp can't unsee that #I wrote a thing

13 notes · View notes

dells-bells · 2 years

Note

hey dells! care to share any current WIPs musings?

AAAH ANON

what DON’T i have in my wips is the better question

THERE ARE SO MANY

I have really fallen deep into the rabbit hole of wanting to include quinlan in my au (thanks to my friend bewize, or XSpotX on AO3) so I have a lot of WIPs involving him both in flashbacks to Obi-Wan’s padawan days and in current qui-gon lives timeline! he’s a fun addition to the dynamic!

let’s see, what else

lots of little things in the qui gon lives au have been brewing and have been started but aren’t very well fleshed out yet. I also want to continue on with the uncle obi-wan modern au I’ve been thinking of ever since Kenobi, I’m supposed to get some of that done for spanktember but ✨ha ha✨ we’ll see 🙈😂

THERE’S SO MUCH, ANON, SO MUCH

here’s a snip from the spanktember prompt “aftercare” to hopefully sate you 😚

Trying to hold back his sniffles, Obi-Wan wobbly got to his feet, ignoring Qui-Gon’s hands reaching to steady him. He wasn’t a padawan any longer, and being disciplined at his age was just atrocious. What would the council think if they knew? Surely no Jedi other than him had ever been taken across their former master’s knee as a knight.

Obi-Wan just wanted to take his leave and curl up in his bed, metaphorically licking his sore wounds. He quickly stooped to redress him and stepped out of arms’ reach of Qui-Gon, his shoulders squaring.

“Thank you, Master. I’m sorry that was necessary.”

“It’s all right.” Qui-Gon’s voice was so calm, so kind, that Obi-Wan grit his teeth. He didn’t deserve Qui-Gon’s easy compassion.

“It won’t happen again.”

Obi-Wan bent his head in a respectful bow and turned to leave, but within a single step he was stopped by Qui-Gon saying quite firmly, “Hold.”

Blast. It. All.

He stopped on the word. He always did. It was impossible not to.

“Where exactly do you think you’re going?” Qui-Gon inquired.

#dells answers #dells writes #qui gon jinn and his two disaster children

10 notes · View notes

shofics · 3 years

Note

help I can't decide between 1, 2 and 9 for zoscar in that prompt list!

1. touching foreheads

2. running fingers through hair

9. listening to the other’s heartbeat

Ok but what if, like… all three

EDIT: I WROTE AN EXTENDED VERSION ON AO3!! GO CHECK ER OUT

CW for description of major character injury and death

Zolf wakes with a start, biting off the gasp as it comes- but Wilde is already awake, or perhaps still awake, lying on his back staring up at the roof of the tent, lit by an eerie blue glow despite how far they’ve camped from the Garden’s entrance. Zolf squeezes his hands in and out of fists and tries to even out his breathing. Wilde turns his head. “Zolf? You alright?”

Zolf swallows hard and takes a deep breath. “Fine,” he manages. “Sorry. Nightmare.”

Wilde shifts onto his side. “What did you dream about?”

Zolf and Wilde have a routine, when it comes to nightmares, and that’s never been part of it. When Zolf shudders awake with a jolt from dreams of Sasha’s organs and opening scars, when Wilde wakes screaming from- whatever the hell it is he dreams about- the other provides comfort, presence, but never asks why. It’s an unspoken rule that, so far, neither has been brave enough to broach from either side.

“You,” Zolf says quietly.

Little specks of blue light reflect in Wilde’s grave, worried eyes. “Oh.”

“I, er. I was the one who found you.”

Blood in the snow, blood staining the wood, the hull of the ship, cracked and splintered and deadly sharp, a body broken and twisted, a body he trusted, contorted in a way no human body should ever be, rib cage opened up like a horrible red flower, blood on the face, dripping from chapped, parted lips-

A hand slides into his, gently twitching his fingers apart and lacing them together, and Zolf takes another shaky breath. “Sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?” Wilde’s voice is gentle and fond. Zolf reaches out with his other hand, hovering an inch from Wilde’s face, wanting, needing, but not knowing how to ask.

Wilde shifts a little closer, and Zolf’s fingers make contact with his cheek and almost automatically brush back through his hair, and Wilde smiles, surprised. They’re so close Zolf can feel his breath, warm on his own face, and it’s hard to get stuck in the image of his battered, lifeless body when they’re lying like this, face to face.

He’s apologising because he shouldn’t need that to be okay. He’s not that fragile.

But his hand is still in Wilde’s hair, and there’s no blood matting it anymore, and he combs his fingers through it, just to make sure, because he’s still got one foot in the dream of cold white and warm red and he does need every sense to pull him out of it. Wilde shifts even closer and presses his forehead to Zolf’s, and he’s warm, warmer than humans usually are, and Zolf leans into the touch and tries as hard as he can to forget how cold his corpse had been.

“Are you cold?” Wilde asks, because he’s shaking.

“No.”

Wilde chuckles breathily. “It’s all a bit much, isn’t it?” he jokes weakly.

“A bit, yeah,” Zolf manages, in the split second before all the composure he has disintegrates, and he gasps shakily and tucks himself into Wilde’s neck and clutches him like he is the only thing keeping Wilde’s body in one piece.

Wilde’s arms encircle him and squeeze, hard, like he’s thinking the same thing. “If you need to let it out, Zolf, you won’t get a better time than this,” Wilde says softly, and he’s right, damn the man. And so Zolf presses himself to Wilde’s chest, all the panic and fear he hadn’t let himself feel before lancing through his heart and out the other side, letting the entire world fill up with the steady pulse and overwhelming heat of a body that shouldn't be alive but is. Is. Arms around him, safe and comforting. Thud, thud, thud, goes that miraculous thing in Wilde’s chest. Alive, Zolf reminds himself, alive, alive, alive…

#thank you for the prompt my friend aaah #my post #my writing #rqg #rqg fic #rqgaming #rusty quill gaming #rqg wilde #wilde rqg #zolf smith #zoscar #prompt fill #answered #crayonturtle #100

175 notes · View notes