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ladytauria · 4 months

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to celebrate hitting 50k i'm sharing a snippet of the longfic i'm currently working on <3 (thank you v much to both @deepwithintheabyss and @paprikadotmp4 for the encouragement & brainstorming help <3)

still untitled (i've been calling it the "aob dubcon fic" lmao) but i have written a summary:

Jason tries to sell off his first heat to make ends meet for the upcoming winter. When he’s taken by traffickers instead, he’s sure that’s the end of him—until he’s rescued by a mysterious alpha. That “rescue” comes with a price: Jason’s heat hits shortly after, and… one thing leads to another, and now Jason and Tim are bound together by a fledgling mate bond. It’s not the first time Jason’s had to make the best of things, but… he finds it a little bit easier this time, especially as he grows to genuinely like Tim. Unfortunately, just as they're starting to settle into mated life, Tim’s ex-pack starts getting involved, and they don’t exactly approve of Tim’s choice in mate—never mind that it wasn’t really a choice at all.

cws/tags for this snippet: reverse robins, aob dynamics, underage jason (15), first aid, medical inaccuracies (probably; i'm not a doctor, so i'm warning to be safe), hurt/comfort, touch starvation, anxiety, allusions to captivity related ptsd, self-deprecation, brief memories of non-consensual touching

editing to add: this snippet takes place in the 2nd half of chapter 2 <3 (& was originally the second scene for the fic lol)

i have also previously shared a snippet of the scene after this, when jason's heat hits, here.

Tim parks outside of an old apartment building. The brick facade is worn, cracked and peeling in places. Most of the windows are intact at least, though; two of them have lights on, the rest dark.

Tim gets out first, already having rounded the car by the time Jason is swinging his legs out. His hand rests on the door, waiting patiently for Jason to join him on the sidewalk. Then he shuts it. One hand rests on Jason’s back again, a gentle guide inside.

There’s a man at the desk near the front entrance, reading a newspaper. He spares them a brief, bored glance before going back to it.

There’s an out of order sign on the elevator, so they have to take the stairs. It’s just two flights, but by the end, Jason’s slightly out of breath. He’d thought he was in pretty good shape, but—

He guesses spending nearly a week in a small, windowless room hasn’t done him any favors.

Tim stops at a door in the middle of the hall, unlocking it and letting Jason go in first. The main room is all one room; living room transitioning to kitchen, separated by an island counter. Tim guides Jason to the couch, directing him to sit while he gets the first aid kit.

The couch is worn but comfortable, cushions sinking under Jason’s weight, cradling him.

Tim disappears down the hall, and returns a few moments later holding the biggest first aid kit Jason has ever seen. Not that he’s really an expert on the things, but— The one at his house was pretty small.

And mostly empty, honestly.

The coffee table looks comically small under it. It makes Jason’s belly flip with nerves, remembering the feeling of latex covered hands on his body, spreading him open.

He bites his lip.

Tim doesn’t open it, though; instead, he slips into the kitchen. He comes back a moment later, holding a bottle of purple Gatorade. Then, he kneels in front of Jason. It’s—odd. Having an alpha kneel in front of him, voluntarily. Even though Jason knows he doesn’t exactly have any power here, the visual dissonance is—

Odd.

He offers up the bottle. It takes a moment for Jason’s hands to move, but he does take it. His fingers fumble with the cap; he flushed, embarrassed despite himself, but gets it open.

As soon as it touches his lips, his thirst hits him full force. He allows himself two large gulps to wet his throat, and then forces himself to slow down, sipping instead.

When he screws the cap back on, he finds Tim still there. Waiting. He twists his hands around the plastic nervously.

“Alright,” Tim says gently. “Other than the bruise on your side, and the rope burns… are you injured?”

Jason shakes his head, twisting the sleeves of the alpha’s jacket. “Nn-nn. Just some bruises,” he says softly. He pauses. “And, um. I did hit my head once. It still hurts, but— I’m not, like, dizzy or nothin’.”

Tim nods. “Alright,” he says. “I’d like to do a head injury evaluation anyway. I’ll just feel over your skull, and then use a penlight to evaluate your pupil dilation. I’ve got cream for the rope burns, and for the bruise—” Tim hesitates a moment, then continues, “I’ll need to check and make sure nothing is cracked, and there’s no internal bruising.” He pauses again. “As long as there’s nothing serious anywhere else… I have some painkillers you can take, when we eat.”

Jason takes a moment to absorb all of that, and then nods, tipping his head forward obediently.

There’s a part of him screaming at himself not to be so compliant. To kick and claw and scratch and bite and fight, the way he has been for the past week. But he’s— He’s so tired, and sore, and—

The alpha smells so good, and— The smiles he keeps giving Jason melt something inside of him. He wants to keep seeing them. Keep earning them.

Tomorrow that might scare him.

Tonight—

His eyes fall closed when Tim’s fingers slide into his curls. The touch is achingly gentle. It feels— It feels good. Nice. Jason can’t help but lean into it. He thinks Tim’s hands linger a little longer than they need to, like he’s indulging Jason’s obvious enjoyment of the touch.

He does pull away eventually. Jason bites back his whine, instead sitting back up against the cushions.

“No bumps,” Tim murmurs. He gets out the penlight next, and cups Jason’s face as he shines a light first in one eye, and then the other. Jason grimaces, hissing a little as he squints. The light aggravates his aching head. “Pupil dilation is normal.” He pockets the light, and strokes Jason’s cheek with his thumb before he pulls away. “Now, I need to check your bruises.”

Jason bites his lip again. The constant worrying is starting to make the top layer of skin break and flake under his teeth. He averts his eyes, rolling the sleeves of the suit jacket up, exposing his hands. Then he pulls his shirt up, bunching it up just beneath his breasts.

His stomach jumps when Tim touches him. Tim pauses, hand hesitating, just barely touching Jason’s skin, and then— He starts to rumble, low and deep.

Jason whines. He doesn’t mean to—but it bursts from him; he can’t stop it, can’t muffle it. It’s a soft, helpless little keen, and the alpha’s rumble gets louder in response. He scoots closer, until he’s between Jason’s knees. His hand settles onto Jason’s skin, curving around his side. His other hand comes to cup Jason’s shoulder, thumb rubbing gentle circles through his clothes.

“It’s alright,” he soothes, the rumble deepening his voice. The sound—

Jason has only vague memories of his father rumbling for him, from when he was much, much smaller. Before working as a henchman had stolen much of his father’s good will. Other than that, Jason has only ever heard alphas rumble on TV. It’s—

It’s a really nice sound.

Against his will, tears fill his eyes, and he raises his hand, pressing his palm over one, like he can force them back inside. Tim’s hand settles against his side, just underneath the bruising. “You’re alright,” the alpha murmurs. “It’s okay to cry, pup.”

Jason sniffs, loud in the quiet. “I—I—”

“Shh, puppy.” Tim’s hand doesn’t leave Jason as he rises, slipping onto the couch beside him. His other hand cups the back of Jason’s head, tugging him forward—Jason’s arms come up automatically, wrapping around Tim’s neck, his shirt falling back over his abdomen. The alpha’s scent drips with comfort and the promise of protection and Jason—

He feels… He feels warm, and safe, and—

A sob rattles through his chest. Tim holds him closer, tighter, his arm winding around Jason’s waist. He buries his nose in Jason’s curls, stroking his skin with his thumb as he rocks him, slowly.

Jason’s chest heaves. His whole body shakes with each sob, so much that Jason is worried he’s going to shake himself apart. Tim’s steady hold feels like all that’s keeping him together.

It’s not just the last few days, it’s— It’s everything, since his Mom got sick and Dad turned to working as henchman and their lives just… fell apart. He’s— Jason’s been on his own for so long. Longer even than he’s been on the streets. Every day has been a fight for survival and Jason—

Honestly, he thought he’d finally lost.

Tim murmurs in his ear. Jason can’t hear a word of what he’s saying, but the tone is low and gentle, and Jason clings to it.

It takes a long time for Jason’s sobs to subside. Jason— He doesn’t know how long exactly. But he does know that when he’s done he feels exhausted. He slumps into Tim’s chest, tremors still running down his spine. His face is sticky. He definitely got snot all over Tim’s nice shirt, and that—

He’s too tired to even worry about Tim’s reaction.

Fingers comb through his hair again, lightly scritching his scalp. He lets out a soft sigh, slumping even more against the alpha’s chest.

Tim hums. He noses at Jason’s temple; a gentle nudge Jason grumbles at. “C’mon, pup,” he murmurs. “I still need to look at your bruises.”

Jason whines—the same plaintive little puppy whine he used to give his mom when he wasn’t ready to get up yet, for one reason or another. It makes Tim huff, amused; the humor reflected in his scent. It’s nice. Really nice.

He noses at Jason’s temple again. “Pup.” His voice is a little more stern. It’s not threatening, though—doesn’t even make Jason’s hackles raise. Tim is still rumbling. Close as they are, it feels like it’s seeping into Jason’s bones. It lessens the ache in him. His skin— His skin has been itchy for years, but. The creepy crawling of it has subsided, for now at least.

He’s comfortable. Jason doesn’t want to move.

He does anyway, sitting back with a scowl on his face. It makes Tim smile—his scowl deepens.

“I’ll be quick,” Tim promises.

Jason huffs a little. He leans back against the couch cushions. Tim’s hand is still under his shirt, sliding back over to the injured side as Jason lifts it. He feels— He feels more settled now. Less nervous, though butterflies still flutter between his ribs.

Jason watched Tim’s fingers probe gently around the bruising. The purple has started to fade to a greenish hue, but it still hurts when he prods it. Jason’s quiet, pained noises are soothed with soft rumbles and fingers rubbing his shoulders.

When he’s done, Tim’s hand lingers, laying casually on his waist. Jason’s skin would normally be prickling, but—

It isn’t.

It hasn’t this whole time, any time the alpha touched him.

“I don’t feel any cracks or breaks. Did— Were there any injuries to your back?” He’s no longer rumbling.

Jason misses it already. There’s a part of him that wants to snuggle up to him, see if he can’t coax that rumble back out.

He ignores it; instead shaking his head. “No. They— The, um, the boss said they were supposed to keep me as uninjured as possible. Any punishment had to be careful not to leave a mark.”

Tim hums. He strokes Jason’s skin with his thumb, and then slips his hand from Jason’s waist. It—

Jason finds that he misses it.

Tim leans forward, finally opening the first aid kit. It’s stocked, full of things Jason has names for and things he doesn’t. Tim takes out two things: the first, a small jar, and the second, a bottle of puppy’s Tylenol. Jason—he doesn’t like it, but he can’t really argue with it. Not at his size and weight and everything. They’re pills, at least, and chewable too,

Jason examines them carefully before he takes them, washing away the chalky flavor with the drink he’d been given before.

Tim unscrews the lid of the jar. The cream inside smells herbal, though not unpleasantly so. Jason holds out his arm, relaxing into the couch as the alpha works the cream into his skin.

It’s easy to let his eyes fall half-lidded. Jason is warm and sleepy. The air is thick with protective alpha scent; it soothes his hind-brain, the part that is purely omega, purely pup and longing for the comfort and safety of pack.

A small voice in the back of his mind is screaming, telling him he needs to keep his guard up.

It’s easy to ignore like this. To focus on nothing but gentle hands on his skin and the ambient noise around him; the hum of electricity and the distant noise of outside traffic.

Jason drifts.

He barely registers when the alpha switches arms, coming back up only to croon confusedly when Tim stops touching him. He blinks up at him, and gets a kind smile in return.

“Hush, pup,” the alpha soothes. “I’m going to get us something to eat.”

Jason blinks slowly at him and hums in acknowledgment. Tim gets a blanket from—somewhere, and lays it over him. It’s soft. Jason likes it. He nuzzles into it, into more of the alpha’s scent, and sighs.

He can hear Tim moving around in the kitchen—the clatter of dishware and pans, the bubbling of boiling liquid, the sound of his soft footsteps. He can smell something savory—chicken, he thinks, and garlic.

He drifts again, stirring only when Tim nudges him gently. A steaming bowl of soup is pressed into his hands.

“It’s hot,” Tim warns, a bit unnecessarily.

Jason still burns his tongue on the first mouthful. He doesn’t care. Having the food in front of him has made him realize how ravenous he is. His bowl is empty far too soon, though he’s too stuffed to go back for seconds.

His empty bowl is taken from him, and then Tim returns again. “C’mon, pup,” he murmurs. “I’ve got a spare toothbrush you can use. A spare den, too. I’ll get you some nesting materials and pajamas while you brush your teeth.”

Jason reluctantly leaves the couch and blanket behind, shuffling down the hall and into the bathroom. Tim procures a toothbrush for him, and then leaves.

It’s a relief to brush his teeth.

His captors had done it for him, so rough his gums had bled and ached. They still bleed under Jason’s gentle ministrations, but at least it doesn’t hurt. By the time he’s rinsing his mouth, Tim has returned, a bundle in his arms. He offers it to Jason.

“Clothes,” he says, a little unnecessarily.

Jason takes them, and Tim leaves again, giving him privacy. Jason goes to shut the door and then—

Hesitates.

He doesn’t want it open. But— He doesn’t…

What if he shuts it, and it won’t open again?

He’s. He’s being silly.

There’s no way this apartment has more than one bathroom. Trapping Jason inside here would be dumb, and he doesn’t think this alpha is dumb.

Jason takes a deep breath. He shuts the door.

Except—

He doesn’t. The latch hits the frame and Jason stops. His heart thunders in his ears. His breaths come sharper, quicker. He can’t. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

Tears burn in his eyes.

It’s not fair.

He rests his head against the frame; one hand cradling the bundle of clothes to his chest, the other gripping the doorknob.

God. He’s so fucking pathetic.

He shudders. Takes a deep breath. It shakes on his exhale, a tremor in his chest. It’s fine. He doesn’t have to shut it all the way. He can leave it like this, with the metal latch over the door frame, only the tiniest sliver of hallway visible.

It’s fine.

He’s fine.

Jason strips quickly, clothes falling into a puddle at his feet. He yanks on the pants the alpha provided. They’re a little short at the ankle, and he has to draw the drawstrings all the way out for them to stay up, but. They fit well enough.

The shirt, too, is a little big, hanging off slightly at one shoulder. It doesn’t show his breasts, and hangs down to his mid-thigh, so Jason doesn’t mind.. Both pants and tee are soft on his skin, not scratching like the other set did.

There’s a hamper. Jason drops his old clothes in, though he’d much rather see them in a dumpster somewhere. The jacket—

Jason hadn’t realized how much it had been comforting him until now. Without it, he feels almost naked. Exposed. He wants to put it back on again. He resists the urge, though. Instead, he straightens it as best he can, then folds it in half and lays it on top of the hamper before he exits the bathroom.

Tim isn’t in the living room any more, and Jason stands, nibbling on his lip. Maybe he should go for the door… but. He can’t bring himself to. Instead he stands there, uselessly, until he hears rustling further down the hall.

He approaches tentatively, and finds Tim in the den at the end of the hall.

Tim glances up when he hears Jason approach, and smiles a little. “I was just getting out some nesting materials,” he says, gesturing.

In front of him is a cushioned nest base, held off the ground by a wooden frame. Piled on top of it is—

Jason had been expecting maybe a couple of blankets and some pillows, but—

The blankets are piled tall; the one on top Jason recognizes as the blanket he’d been using on the couch. There are plenty of pillows, too—and padding, for added layers, and cushions, and, it’s… It’s a lot.

Jason’s throat feels a little tight. “Thanks,” he says, voice small.

“Of course, pup,” Tim says gently. He’s pulled his scent in tight now, but when he draws nearer, Jason catches a whiff of safehere and everythingsokay drifting off of him. His hand moves slow enough it would be easy for Jason to avoid it, but. He stays still, letting the alpha brush his knuckles over his cheek.

“Goodnight, pup,” he murmurs. “If you need me, I’ll be just down the hall.”

Jason nods. The alpha’s hand drops, and then he leaves.

The rest of the den… It’s not bare, but it lacks a personal touch. There’s a chest of drawers in the corner closest to the closet; a nightstand by the nest; and curtains hanging over the window. He shuffles further in, leaving the door open behind him.

He leaves the nest alone for now. Instead—

He goes for the closet first, opening the door. It’s bare inside, except for a thin layer of dust. Jason shuts it again. He opens the drawers, as quietly as he can. Empty as well. The den smells— Not stale, it’s definitely been used before, but. He catches the barest hints of alpha scent, and other than that… It just smells clean.

Jason rubs at his eyes.

No more putting it off.

As much as he doesn’t want to… Jason doesn’t shut the door all the way. Instead, just like in the bathroom, he leaves it open the tiniest sliver. Anything more, and he won’t be able to sleep. Anything less—

Panic.

Even the thought makes his heart race.

Jason rubs his face. He hates this. He hates it so much. Fuck. Sometimes it feels like life is just out to get him. Like—someone or something out there wants him to suffer.

Stop it. Plenty of people have it worse than you do, he scolds himself. He’s safe right now, or— He has the illusion of safety, at least. The alpha is being nice. Jason is— He’s not bound up. The door isn’t locked. There are no bars on the window. Tim treated his injuries. Held him when he cried. Gave him food and something to drink and soft clothes.

And he’d given Jason plenty of material to make a nice, comfortable nest to den in. One that might finally satisfy the instincts that have been screaming at him.

Jason takes a breath, and pads over to the nest. The sheer amount of material before him is almost overwhelming, but… He goes through it slowly. He starts with the padding, layering it into the nest base and using the cushions to help give it shape. He tests it as he goes, until he has something that’s plush, but not so much that it will engulf him. He works a nest cover over it. It’s a bit of a struggle to get it on, but Jason manages; only a little winded by the end. What padding and cushions he didn’t use—

He decides to put them in the closet, where they’ll be out of the way.

Blankets next.

Jason sorts through the pile slowly, rubbing each on his cheek. Scenting them. The one he used on the couch is the strongest scented; still thick with the contentment he’d felt in the alpha’s arms, and the protective, comforting scent Tim had drenched the air with.

He ends up using a little over half of the blankets Tim provided. The rest he puts in the closet.

Pillows—

Jason doesn’t use as many of them. He ends up putting most of them in the closet. And then, finally—

His nest is done.

He stands back, surveying his handiwork. He trills with pride, running his hand over the edge. His nest is soft. Cozy. It needs— It needs books. And— His fox. He misses his fox, the one his mom gave him. He kept it— He managed to keep it safe, all this time.

It’s probably gone now. Or ruined.

His eyes sting, and he swipes at them roughly.

Jason is so tired of crying.

He climbs into bed, pulling the blankets over and around him, snuggling down into the pillows. It feels—

Safe.

There’s something missing, though. Jason— He’s not sure what it is, but—

He’ll worry about it in the morning.

#jaytim #timjay #tauriawritesfanfic #aob dubcon fic #i'm so tempted to start posting even tho i usually prefer to wait till its done #ive broken everything into chapters; have a list of tags; wrote a summary...#i do not. have a fucking title tho #most of my titles were brainstormed for the 15k version!! which. hm. i *could* post that separately maybe...?#smth to think about #a n y w a y #hope u enjoy <333 #as soon as this fic lets go of the chokehold it has on me i'll get back to like #prompts & the other wips languishing in my docs #(and when i say chokehold i mean i started writing this around like... december 20th?)#(and you can thank abyss for THAT too bc this all spiraled from 8k of a genfic i showed them <3)

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hailsatanacab · 1 year

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@the-witchhunter - this is incredibly disturbing, i love it. fair warning, i took it more in the direction of that oglaf comic (nsfw) where Vlad fully doesn't realise that this is a love shrine, this is a completely normal thing that you do for your arch enemy!

———

“Daniel! I can explain!”

“Oh… my… God...”

“Daniel, really, it’s not what it looks like!”

“Really?” Danny breathes, shocked and honestly kind of fighting down the urge to vomit. The thermos slips from his fingers and clatters to the ground, the sound echoing far too loudly in the enclosed space. “Because it looks like you have a shrine dedicated to my dad in your closet.”

“No, that’s not—it’s more complicated than that, Daniel. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I don’t think I want to understand.”

“Your father is a ridiculous man, Daniel. I hate his stupid face so much. Look at him!”

Vlad turns back to the actual shrine, with actual candles and actual flowers and actual photos of his dad with… Holy crap, did Vlad cut out Mom in each of the photos? What the fuck?

Wait… Look, Danny tries not to look too closely at the weird things Vlad has hidden around his mansion dedicated to his mom, but he’s fairly sure that the pictures of her he’s cut out (in heart shapes—yeah, Danny’s definitely going to barf) are the ones Vlad’s put in his other weirdo closet shrine that Danny also wishes he’d never seen.

“Why don’t you just have one shrine? Why have—no, you know what, I don’t want to know. I think I’m just gonna leave.”

Yeah, that sounds like the best option. Danny takes a cautious step back, very ready to get back home, bleach his eyeballs and maybe never look at his mom and dad ever again. Or, at least, not until he has successfully blocked this from his mind forever.

He only gets one foot out the door when Vlad lashes out and grabs him. The day just keeps getting better and better, really, doesn’t it? Even as he twists and turns, he can’t get out of Vlad’s ironclad grip and he’s pulled even farther into the closet.

Panic rises in his throat as Vlad shuts the door—what the fuck is happening? He doesn’t want to be dragged into Vlad’s creepy shrine to his dad, what the fuck? What the fuck!

“I loathe your father, Daniel, I hate him with the very core of my being. Look at him!”

There’s no goddamn way in hell Danny is looking at any of the pictures, no thank you. He squeezes his eyes shut and wishes he were somewhere, anywhere else, when Vlad jerks his arm forward so he comes nose-to-nose with the largest framed portrait of his dad in the very centre of the table, smiling with his doctorate and a very unfortunate 80s mullet. Dear God, no.

“I hate his smug face! I hate his stupid fashion sense, you have no idea how much I detest that orange jumpsuit of his, how much I want to claw it off him and tear it to shreds! If I have to listen to him say another boneheaded, idiotic, ridiculous thing, I will—I’ll rip his throat out with my teeth! You don't know how long I spend here looking at him, imaging all the ways I'll have him grovelling at my feet. One day, Daniel, I'll have him one day...”

———

The sun was going down when Danny finally managed to escape and find solace in Sam and Tucker. He's not going home. Not yet.

“Danny, are you okay? We were so worried, we couldn’t get hold of you for hours! Where were you?”

“Sam, Tuck… Vlad, he…”

“Holy shit, Danny, you’re shaking, are you alright? What happened, what did he do?”

“I think… I think he wants to fuck my dad.”

#danny phantom #vlad masters #jack fenton #phan phic #hope you enjoy!! this was so fun i can totally see it happening haha #also i spent a solid three hours going through the oglaf archive to find those two comics so like... double procrastination #thanks!#does vlad want to fuck jack or is he just incredibly unhinged?#trick question it's both #this is the most harrowing torture vlad has ever put danny through btw #locking him in the weird shrine closet and forcing him to listen to everything he wants to do with his dad #lbr tho if vlad ever did get to fuck jack OR maddie it would ruin him #like he wouldn't know what to do with himself after that there's no coming back #he'd be a shell of a human being #ANYWAY hope you enjoyed it!! thank you for the prompt!!#my writing #cab writes

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cookkoo · 7 months

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Drawtober 2023 day 19: Plump

"What happened when we were at Hawaii?" "Sojiro been feeding Morgana, and I think he might pampered him a little too much with fatty tuna?"

Previous days: [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18]

#shumako #amamiya ren #niijima makoto #kurusu akira #drawtober2023 #morgana p5 #sakura sojiro #drawtober #inktober2023 #inktober #Thank you Mona for helping me with another prompt #no but seriously tho #I think Mona deserved the fatty tuna that he kept missing in game #Sojiro is that one parent that ready to feed the cat whenever possible #Sojiro please this is unhealthy for him #what do you mean unhealthy? He's too slim!#do you actually feed the cat properly?#yes and YOU are overfeeding him #I'm not a cat!

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majorproblems77 · 3 months

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all right! For a fic request how about some Sky, Wild, Hyrule crack/fluff? I know people usually pair up wild and hyrule as the chaotic adventurers who explore and get lost, but I’d love to see Sky get in on the action. Do with it what you will 😉 angst or no angst

Oh what a fun combination! (I love gremlin Sky.)

"Hey! Where are you two off to anyway?"

Sky found the Hyrule and Wild headed into the woods. The traveller and the champion looked back at him with a smile passing between them.

"Oh hey Sky! We were just...." Hyrule started, looking to Wild his eyes flicking between the champion and the skyloftian.

"Yeah. Just..." Wild tried to get the sentence but Sky stopped him. His arms crossed.

"Where are you going?" the skyloftian's voice was monotone, concern laced through it. Last time he caught them sneaking off they got lost and were missing for three days before Wolfie had managed to bring them back to camp.

Man he loved that wolf.

"We were going cliff jumping..." Hyrule gave a sheepish smile scratching the back of his head.

Cliff jumping? He loved cliff jumping!

The Skylofian's eyes lit up, his hands grasping together in excitement. "Can I come?"

"You want to?" Wild asked, confusion in his eyes as he and Hyrule shared a look.

Sky crossed his arms, "I spend my life jumping from my island home in the sky to land on a loftwing to fly around. We've not been to my home in months and I miss that wind. Of course, I want to." the skyloftian gave a hopeful smile. As the others looked on.

"And..." The skyloftian placed his hands behind his back, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he looked to his right, back in the direction of the camp. "I could clear things up with Time. When we get back..."

Wild and Hyrule looked at each other and then smiled. the spark of adventure flashing across them.

"Well then let's go!"

---

"So Wild... You know the way back?" Sky asked, raising an eyebrow as he watched the champion climb down from his perch up a tall tree.

"So you know how none of us are good with navigation..." Wild landed on the ground with a gentle thud.

"Wolfe is gonna be so mad again..." Hyrule deflated, as he looked at their surroundings.

"Oh, I can totally help with that." Sky smiled between them two. "you just let me handle it alright?" The Skyloftian smiled as he settled under the tree. "If we are going to wait for Wolfie to find us, might as well catch up on my sleep while we wait."

Sky settled under the tree and was just about to doze off when he heard a call from the forest. A wolf call.

"Wolfie! Thank Hylia!" Hyrule ran over to the wolf as it appeared through the trees.

The wolf growled, his eyes clearly unimpressed.

"Oh don't be angry!" Sky said, "Hyrule and Wild were helping me!" Sky smiled as he walked over. The wolf tilted its head in confusion as the Skyloftian patted it on the head.

"Yeah! He asked us to join him..." Wild said, forcing a smile through his teeth.

"You see..." Sky started, as he held his arms, an expression Wild and Hyrule had seen before. "And you can't tell the others. I've been feeling really homesick." The wolf lowered his head as a wine escaped it. Gently bumping its nose against Sky's hand. "I know you've spent your life on the ground but I spent my life in the sky. Freefalling was a daily activity." Sky sat on the ground, allowing the wolf to pad at his legs.

"Wild said he's seen somewhere high enough to feel like it. so. He and Hyrule brought me here. I hadn't realised how much I'd missed it." Sky looked away. "It's not exactly like falling at home is. But it's kind of close. Can we stay for just a little longer? Please?"

Wolfie sits, giving a single nod. Before settling under a nearby tree.

"Thank you! Thank you thank you!" Sky sounded ecstatic, as he stood quickly. "Wild, let me show you how to fall properly. Come on!"

Wolfie remained sat with Hyrule while Sky and Wild jumped a few more times. each time yells of enjoyment and laughter escape the pair.

"We should get back. It's almost dark.."

---

Walking back into Camp was an adventure. the look on Time's face seeped disappointment, as he spotted Wild and Hyrule first.

"Well, that's two of the three. is Sky with you?"

"I'm here." Sky waved as he too entered the surrounds of camp. giving a small smile

"And where have you been...?"

Times Gaze turned to Sky as he wrung his hands.

"Well... I was feeling homesick. and Wild and Hyrule found this Cliff to jump off. They were just trying to cheer me up, please don't be mad at them!" The skyloftian pleaded with the older hero.

Time's gaze softened as he placed a hand on the Skyloftians shoulder. "Next time Sky. Just tell us where your going, we've been worried sick about where you three have been."

"I will. I will. " He beamed as he entered the camp, leaving Time with Hyrule and Wild.

"Ahh no you dont." The older hero stopped them. "We are talking about this when Twilight gets here.

"Wolfie, will you go and find Twilight, tell him to come back as it's safe." The wolf huffed in response before turning and sprinting off into the forest and out of sight.

The three heroes stood in silence before they heard the rustling of someone coming through the trees behind them.

Twilight.

"Ahh there you two are! You had me worried sick." The rancher looked over to camp to find the Skyloftian a smile on his face as he and Wind shared a hug. "you found Sky too! good."

"It is. Now you owe this one an apology, you've had him pacing circles around camp for hours now."

"Sorry, Twi..."

"No worries cub, I know you two need y'all space, just tell someone next time." The rancher smiled as he patted Wild on the shoulder.

"We will. Thanks Twilight..."

With that the two heroes walked into Camp, Wild moving over to the cooking pot, might be worth trying to make that Pumpkin soup recipe.

Just in case something in the Skyloftian was telling the truth when he said he was homesick.

Just in case....

#estelian beloved #thanks for the ask!#linked universe #lu sky #corner answers with major #creative writing #writing #linked universe fanfic #lu wild #lu hyrule #linkeduniverse #These three are fun to write #need more gremlin sky #i dont write hyrule very often so hes more kinda here but not?#Sorry about that #hope you enjoyed it tho!#:D #Writing prompts #no beta we die like wild?

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blindmagdalena · 1 year

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Hc for giving homie a handy while he’s laying down in ur lap <33

18+

Now this is heaven. Homelander lies outstretched on the couch, one knee bent while the other is left long, boot turned outward. Your lap is plush under his head, and your nails drag in deft, toe-curling lines along his scalp. Each stroke sends pleasant tingles down his spine, unwinding the tension of the day from his body. You bring him a peace that he once could have only dreamed of. He feels your love in every tender touch, hears it in the steady thrum of your heart. He's become addicted to you, thoroughly intoxicated by the effortlessness with which you soothe him, with which you love him. Your other hand is resting on his chest, fingers interlaced with his. His eyes are closed, warmth resonating pleasantly through him. When he lets out a content little moan at a particularly good scratch of your nails, you ask with a smile, "Feel good?" The sultry timbre of your voice jolts through him. He cracks his eyes open. You're gazing down at him with such adoration, he wonders how he ever let himself close them. He wants to drink it in forever. "Yeah," he rasps, adjusting slightly. The movement makes him realize he's more than half hard, heat radiating from his core.

He thinks you must have realized it first, if the devious curve of your lips is any indication. He turns his head to nuzzle a little sheepishly at your stomach. "Real good," he says, smiling bashfully. You hum. "I can make you feel even better."

The words are music to his ears. Homelander's smile broadens, your intentions crystal clear to him. You release his hand, and he reaches down to unclasp his belt, holding your gaze while he works his cock out of his pants, giving the length of it a brief pump. You shift, leaning slightly, and playfully swat his hand away, replacing it with your own. Your touch makes him suck in a sharp breath, and then exhale a low sound. He lifts a hand and grips your knee, thumb stroking back and forth. Slowly at first, you stroke up and down his shaft, squeezing gently at the head before sliding back down. Homelander's lips part while he stares up at you, brows furrowing in pleasure. You look radiant above him, wearing the same serene expression as when you were simply combing his hair. You look powerful like this, confident in the way you tend to him. It sets his blood aflame, has him needily flexing his grip on your knee. "Better?" You ask, voice like silk. Homelander nods, breath hitching when your wrist moves through a deft twist and squeeze, wringing a breathy little moan out of him. "Yes," he says, hips giving a shaky little jerk. "Easy," you coo, curling your fingers into his hair, grabbing a fistful of it. He inhales sharply when you give it a firm pull, painless but no less exhilarating. Your other hand pauses on his cock, which throbs wildly in your grip. "Let me take care of you. Stay still."

"Yes," he gasps, gripping the couch, grasping at it harder than he dare squeeze you, the frame of it groaning under his strength. He loves it when you direct him, because he knows that obeying you will come with reward. With praise. "Yes, okay, yes." "Good boy," you say, which really isn't fair, as you resume jerking him off. The way your thumb drags over the head of his cock makes him keen, spreading slick with every stroke. He wants so badly to fuck rough and dirty into the tight channel of your hand, but more than that, he wants to hear you say how fucking good he was for you.

All he can do is spread his legs a little wider, tip his head back in your lap as his back arches. Your lap is so fucking soft and warm, but what really drives him up the wall is that he can smell your arousal. He can hear the pulse of your body as you work yourself up tending to him, getting off on his pleasure. It empties his mind of any coherent thought, replacing it with nothing but primal need. "That's it," you encourage, giving his hair one last gentle tug before you splay your fingers, dragging them through his hair in exactly the way you had when this begun. He shudders. "Feels so good, doesn't it? Show me. Show me how good I make you feel." Homelander groans loud, keeping himself still through pure herculean effort while the mounting pressure of release creeps up his spine. Your words bathe him like rays of sunlight, and sink in just as warm. He wants nothing more than for you to never take your eyes off of him, to shower him always in your love. Your attention would be wasted anywhere else. You were made for him. His brows knit tightly together at the thought, eyes screwing shut right before that last tether of control snaps and he drives his hips up, gasping as he comes hard into your hand, cupped over the head of his cock, load after load soaking your palm and fingers.

You, in your exquisite cruelty, coat the length of his cock in his own release, milking him of his orgasm with slow, wet pumps. Homelander makes a noise dangerously close to a whimper, shivering at the too-good feel of it. Your hand is warm and tight, slick with his come, the lewd sound of you stroking him through the aftermath impossibly loud in his ears. He looks at you, and you look pristine, so damn composed, a sharp contrast to how utterly unraveled he feels. You’re smiling like you’re proud of him for coming apart in your hands like that.

“God, that was amazing,” you murmur. The praise is so tender, so earnest that it helps him come down slow from his high, turning his freefall into a gradual descent. “You're amazing."

"So're you," he says, words slurring together slightly, smiling lazily. You bend down to kiss him, and he lifts his hand to touch the side of your face reverently. You kiss him slow, though he can't help licking into your mouth, craving you. The taste of you combined with the feel of your hands on him makes his cock throb a little painfully, a pang of renewed interest. He's nearly disappointed when your hand slows to a stop, though he still gives a breath of relief at the reprieve, bordering on overstimulated. When you pull away from the kiss, he admires you for a moment before turning his head, inhaling you through the fabric of your clothing. The heat, the smell of your unabated arousal wets his tongue, has his jaw aching preemptively. It makes him fucking hungry. "I wanna taste you," he says, glancing up at you, licking his lips. "Can I?" He hears you heart jump, sees your pupils dilate. He smiles wickedly when you nod.

There could be no greater reward for what a good boy he had been.

#homelander x you #homelander x reader #ask and you shall receive #darling anon #my writing #smut #thank you i loved this prompt!!! this is one of my fave positions for homie haha #i'm sorry that i haven't been writing much lately! i've been loving the prompts tho #and now that the holidays are over i'm definitely getting back into my usual swing

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constantvariations · 10 months

Text

Why did they create such a useless character to show Cinder's backstory when Salem is literally right there AND the real question the audience wants answered???

Imagine if it had been Salem who stayed at the hotel and saw something of herself in the scrappy servant girl. She saw how the Madame treated little Cinder and offered a way out only if Cinder has the power to be useful to her. Maybe she put Cinder to a test of how far she was willing to go for freedom, or maybe Salem wanted something from the Madame that she wouldn't give so it was up to Cinder to provide

Either way, Salem gets a young disciple that's ruthlessly ambitious and easy to manipulate and Cinder gains the illusion of freedom under a new master

#rwde #ofc salem wouldnt be grimmified in this version bc she'd stand out too much to do under the table shit #or she still could be but the world actually looks like an anime like it did in the beacon days #v4 on is far too grounded in reality design-wise #where the hell are the folks w wild ass hair colors and styles?? the most we get is joannas green but she says like 10 words so who cares #tis some bullshit and why i refuse to call v4+ rwby an anime #anyway this was somehow prompted by me comparing vergil to cinderella #as you can see i am Completely Normal tm #ngl tho vergil is a better cinderella if instead of riches-rags-riches its power-powerless-power #cinder starts at the bottom so her baseline mentality is way off if you want to do a cinderella remake #rags to riches is abt underdogs clawing up the social ladder against all odds #but riches rags riches is abt reclaiming what was yours #if we use cinders random disdain towards schnees in v8 as inspiration we could have a story of rival businesses #cinders father gets booted from power/high society thanks to Jacques's maybe legal maybe not methods and meddling #could go several ways from there:#her father could die and she'd be left homeless and alone in the cruel underbelly of the wealthy and powerful #she could find work w the Madame and try to endure the abuse so she and her father can pay the bills #her father could straight up sell her to the madame #itd be a horrific way to learn the significance of power and how easily it can be taken #i wanna like cinder so bad but v5 on fucked her irreparably. she doesnt even dress well anymore ffs

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helianskies · 6 months

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9 or 21, lietpru|pruliet?

man i hope i have done them and u some kind of justice—

Martyrdom

“God, you're in a sorry state.”

“Thanks for pointing it out,” Gilbert quips as he does his best to swallow down a cough that feels like it could dislodge a lung. “Hadn’t noticed.”

“No, really,” Tolys proceeds all the same, wandering only further into Gilbert’s room—notably, without his permission. Typical. “It stinks in here. For someone who’s usually a proud and tidy man, you might as well be living with animals—”

“Sometimes, I do.”

“—and it’s the middle of the day, why are your—? Here—”

Tolys walks right over to the window, and before Gilbert can stop him (or really even consider stopping him) he throws the curtains open and lets the sun in. Gilbert wants to scream and curse him back a thousand years into the past, but… he can’t muster the energy or will to, and simply chooses to defy the other, throwing himself back down into his bedsheets in the same way a child would.

Just because Toyls wants to invade his space, that doesn’t mean that Gilbert has to entertain him!

The mattress shifts and bounces with added weight behind him. Gilbert stares at the wall, but he knows that the other has now decided to make himself comfortable. It only grinds his gears more.

“Go away, Liet…”

“So formal, Preußen,” Tolys muses. “You really are in a bad mood.”

“No thanks to you.”

“Not sure I can be blamed for how you’re feeling. Or coping.”

“Maybe not,” Gilbert mutters, acerbic, “but you aren’t helping.”

“Is that what you want me to do?” Tolys asks. “You want me to help you?”

Gilbert lacks a real answer. Saying that he wants any kind of help would mean defeat. A kicked canine, tail between his legs. But saying that he wants nothing, and potentially sending Tolys back on his way, will only leave him alone again. And for how long? Alone to wallow, to lie there, to drip away slowly into nothing…

It’s been days now. Days of silence. He has noticed passing footsteps—footsteps that have sometimes stopped, listened, waited, and then moved on—

“So, you want me to help,” Tolys remarks as he crosses one leg over the other, and Gilbert can feel those watchful, attentive eyes on him. They may as well have been fingers on his skin, warm, ticklish, teasing…

“Yeah,” Gilbert replies, letting his breath go. He feels himself sink deeper into pillows and blankets. “I need a favour…”

“Go on then,” the other says. “What is it?”

Gilbert breathes back in. His body flushes with shivers and aches. And he asks of the other, “Put me out of my misery.”

Part of him wonders if Tolys will laugh at his request, or maybe tell him to stop being so dramatic. Part of him wonders if he’d feel fingers after all—if something would possess the other and he would cure Gilbert of his ailment—an ailment that Gilbert himself couldn’t even describe. Part of him wonders if—

“No.”

Gilbert nearly chokes on his own saliva, hurrying to sit himself up before he ends up coughing up a lung after all. He whips his head around to stare at Tolys, who is now apparently much more interested in looking out of the window opposite the bed, and he feels shivers and aches of a different kind.

“No?” he repeats.

“No,” Tolys repeats, too. He looks back at Gilbert and says quite plainly, “Not my misery, so not my problem.”

He’s stunned.

“Well, fuck you, I guess,” he says, before, again, returning to his bed.

Not the same way as before, though. It isn’t abrupt, and it isn’t like a tantrum. He just… lies back down, like a dog who has given up trying to get attention, his head settling back on a pillow as his eyes return to the wall. To his wall. To one of his walls, so grey, so cold.

A soft snort of laughter comes from behind him. It’s wounding, for a moment. But then he feels the mattress move and wobble again, and the next thing he knows, there is an arm. An arm. A whole arm that has come to lie across his side. It doesn’t quite hold him, but it is there, and… that’s okay.

“You get five minutes,” Tolys tells him as his fingers find the other’s hair and gently sift through it. Gilbert closes his eyes. He lets him continue, and relaxes. “After that, you’re having a serious fucking shower, got it?”

“Sure. Got it.”

But if Gilbert could fall asleep in those five minutes, then… Well, the shower, the cleaning, the living—it could wait. It would wait. He’s got what he needs for now.

The dog always gets the bone in the end.

[ find the fic collection on ao3! ]

#helia writes #hetalia #hws lithuania #hws prussia #lietpru #pruliet #yeah so for characters i don't really write let's hope i've done okay :'D #thanks for the request tho i think you made a good choice with those prompt options hehe #someone's gotta keep gil in check #and i would write them again if asked (and if i did a good job ofc asdgfhtr)

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alienaiver · 1 year

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Hihihihhihi can I please join with Deku and prompt 56? Have fun!!

lunaaa!!! <3333 of course you can!

with number 56 you got: “You owe me a kiss.” which just gives infinite scenarios, doesn't it? very fluffy for my very own fluff-specialist <!!!33333 it's 818 words and no real warnings!

send me an ask with a random number between 1-210 and a character and i’ll write you a little story!

When you get home from work, you’re exhausted to the bones. It’s been some rough weeks, the office demanding more and more menial tasks that doesn’t require much effort per say, but when they pile up, they drain the will out of you.

You don’t expect Midoriya to be home when you toe off your shoes by the entrance, so when you hear something being dropped on the floor from the kitchen, your breath instantly hitches and you freeze for a few seconds, straining your ears to hear if there really is someone there or not. You hear steps and something being placed back on the kitchen counter. You mentally go through the exercises that Midoriya has taught you. Dating the number one hero comes with dangerous side-effects and while your address is hidden, you’d never underestimate the cunning of villains. You silently reach for your purse you placed by the dresser, reaching for the pepper spray lodged in there somewhere before you toe your way through the hallway and into the kitchen, more tense than you’ve been in a while.

So when you turn the corner and see none other than your boyfriend whipping something in a bowl, you groan out loud to release the tension. He whips around with one of his bright smiles plastered to his face – together with flour and something sticky. You bend down with your arms resting on your legs, trying to laugh out the fear.

He worries instantly, “what’s wrong?” he asks as he hurries to put the bowl on the counter and come to you. You shake your head and lift your right arm to show him the spray, “I thought we had an intruder. I thought you’d be at work until midnight.”

He coos at you as he runs a hand through your hair, massaging your scalp, “I’m sorry for startling you. I must’ve forgotten to send you a text.”

He goes back to the batter on the counter and you follow, “what are you doing?”

“I’m making some chocolate-chip cookies. Kacchan showed me this really easy recipe!” he’s beaming proudly but the kitchen is a big mess and the batter in his arms doesn’t seem to entirely cooperate with him. You laugh, “did you pre-heat the oven?”

It’s something he always forgets. A mumbled “shit” lets you know he did it again and you laugh as you reach over to turn it on, taking out the tray so he can prepare the cookies on that. Silently, you start helping him, tidying up as you go around, handing him the ingredients he asks for and preparing a big pot of coffee.

“So,” you begin and out of your peripheral vision you see him freeze by the tray, a glop of batter dripping haphazardly between his hands and the baking paper. “What made you come home early to make cookies?”

He winces, “is it really that out of character for me?” he counters you and you laugh at him, resting your hip against the counter, crossing your arms, “Izuku, you didn’t become the number one hero because of your interest in baking, so… out with it.”

He leans back up, his full height and bulk seeming so big in the tiny kitchen of yours. He scratches the back of his neck but you see the regret in his eyes the instant he feels the dough catch in his nape hairs. You snort at him but await his explanation.

“I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Your expression softens at his confession but you can’t help but raise your eyebrow with a teasing glint, “making me help you clean up here is nice?”

He knows you’re making a lighthearted joke and that you technically don’t mind organizing after his tornado of a mess (he also argues in his mind that he’d happily have done it himself before you got home, but this is actually the third batch he’s been trying to make so time ran from him) but it still sits badly with him that he wants to help you feel better and unload some stress but instead makes you work. You near him and let your hands travel over his arms up to his shoulders, “I like seeing my strong hero in the kitchen though. My apron suits you, Handsome.”

He blushes at your flirting banter. It’s amazing, how you’ve been together for almost seven years but he still can’t look you in the eye when you compliment him.

“But this help doesn’t come free, you know.” You argue and he looks at you with confusion written all over him. You smile triumphantly, “you owe me a kiss.”

He chuckles at your request before he wraps his arms around you, careful not to let his hands touch and ruin your clothes with batter, “how about two?”

You smile and lean up closer, squeezing his shoulders, “we can do that.”

#AKJDKA THIS WAS SUCH A CUTE PROMPT THO. WANTED TO WORK ON IT FOREVER #i feel like i just KNOW that as well meaning as midoriya is in a kitchen hes not...... the Best #but hes SO kind about it and will share doing the dishes!!!! plus hes always grateful and cute and just. oh my gosh he gives me tooth ache #from the cuteness of him!!! thank you for sending this in i hope u have a good weekend my love <3333333 #bnha x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #deku x reader #writing game #nohr.writing #nohr.bnha

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