#promptober… will continue I promise

[whosthere54]

Thinking about the duality of endstone reset Icarus “I don’t need to be fixed” Morningstar and third reset Icarus “after learning about me not being, entirely, me I need to work to fix everything I do wrong and fix myself to make up for the fact that it’s me” Morningstar

Just thinking about in the first reset Icarus when under corruption would always insist that they don’t need to be fixed. That this is how they were and nothing could change that. In the third reset, Icarus generally keeps that same mindset- but theres also that theme of fixing. Of them needing to be fixed because something was wrong with them. Of them needing to be fixed because their eye wasn’t *theirs* and that blood wasn’t theirs and-

And their death- being something fixing them. Fixing- getting rid of- the problem. Because they were a problem, and they were supposed to fix those. Icarus’s whole thing about fixing everything they’ve done just proceeds to extend to themself- thinking they need to be fixed that they’re broken or wrong because something in their head doesn’t seem to be quite right even if you ignore the eye not being theirs.

I just. Care. About Icarus and thinking they need to be fixed in particular.

[moonlight-prose]

WONDERING WHY

a/n: this is for the logan promptober hosted by the lovely @silverskyeline! i'm not gonna do the whole list cause i would stress myself out to an insane degree. but a few caught my eye. so i've thrown together some small fics for the man himself in the hopes of scattering them throughout october. this is also late one day cause of well me having a shitty time in life rn. but i hope y'all enjoy!

logan promptober: day six - cowboy

summary: loving logan howlett felt like loving a ghost. he returned when the moon hung low in the sky and his time gave way for freedom. but when you needed him most, he arrived on your doorstep with the promise of giving you exactly what you want.

word count: 3.5k+

pairing: cowboy!old man!logan x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MDNI IT'S 18+ ONLY, romance, love, angst, longing, pining, they're obsessed with each other, filthy kissing, p in v sex, rough sex, spit, choking (sorta), calling the pussy her/she, he's an old man who fucks insanely well, feral old man logan.

Pale moonlight brushed across the Earth with strokes of paint. Stars were sprinkled along the night sky, glimmering in darkness as you leaned against the doorway of your home. The lantern flame flickered with each waft of cool air that breezed past you. Pooling inside where a fire cracked and sparked—offering enough warmth to keep you sated for the remainder of time.

At least until he returned home.

You listened for the familiar clop of hooves, the click of his tongue guiding the horse where to go. Hoping that eventually he’d turn the bend in the dirt road and find his way back to the safety of your shared bed.

This was a routine you knew well—one you found solace in as the days grew short and sunlight became sparse. In summer he often returned when the clock struck midnight; the weariness of a long day spent riding through towns and hunting with others was normal. If a little grueling. Although you never complained. You knew who he was when you met him—understood the ups and downs of what this relationship would be.

Logan wasn’t anything if true to his word right at the start. I’m not gonna be here every day sugar, but I’ll be here when you need me.

Eventually you’d have to blow out the lantern and amble back indoors. Calling it quits on yet another night spent alone. He didn’t like it when you were out past a certain time—raiders and hunters alike were more than willing to break in without remorse. Especially if they didn’t know who resided inside, who shared your bed on nights like tonight.

“I need you,” you sighed, shutting your eyes to the sight of an empty road.

They were empty words of hope strung together to make a wish on whatever star caught your eye. Rarely did they work. Although some nights you wondered if magic twined with your solemn prayer—summoning the man you so desperately wanted. It was wishful thinking, a well full of reverie you continuously drank from. Although maybe it was the poison that would one day cause you to drop dead. Maybe…Logan was a figment of all that you could never have.

He might not even exist.

Your eyes fluttered open, glancing up at the sky with anticipation of a falling star. The echo of hooves along dirt drew your attention from your nightly ritual—curiosity pulling you close and whispering promises of giving you everything you wanted. It was probably a stranger. Someone looking for an easy place to spend the night. Logan always told you to say no with a shotgun in your hands, and your body tensed in preparation to grab for the gun propped near the doorway.

Relief flooded your veins at the sight of a familiar dark brown leather coat, his hat tipped low enough to hide the eyes that loomed beneath—glinting with a darkness you'd only seen once or twice in your time together. Calloused and scarred hands gripped loosley at the reins as the horse trotted up the path—finding it's way home with ease.

There was a pull between the two of you. Insatiable and feral and strong enough to have him searching for you the second he drew closer to the house. Hazel eyes fatigued by the long trip back locked onto your form. Plush skin and curves hidden beneath layers of a dress you had yet to strip off.

You would leave that to him, knowing how much he enjoyed tugging at the strings of your corset—undoing the buttons to set you free.

"Gonna catch your fuckin' death," he muttered, his boots hitting the ground with a dull thud. You relished the sound, unable to stop your smile.

"I was waiting for you."

He huffed, wrapped the reins around the wooden fence he built steadily over the years—the leather bag on his saddle now strapped over his wide shoulder. "Shouldn't be waitin' on a man like me sugar."

"You always say that."

"And I'm always right."

"Would you prefer I wait on someone else?" you inquired, a challenge glinting in your eyes.

He bit back a growl, hand settling on your hip to drag you to the edge of the front step as he stepped to the one below. "Are you tryin' to tell me somethin'?"

The possession in his eyes made your heart race, your fingers digging into the soft leather permeated by the scent of cigars smoked in various saloons. He felt familiar, a home you didn't know could exist within another person. The house you two built resided in his heart; the missing piece you searched for on nights spent without him. But now you had it in your grasp—fitting it back into place with a sigh of bliss.

The picture of peace finally pressed itself to your soul, caressing a part of your love that left each time he mounted his horse—the promise of coming home on the tip of his tongue.

"I haven't found someone else yet, but I very well could-"

The rumble in his chest was layered with everything he'd never say with words. "Try it," he growled. "And I'll have to make a fuckin' graveyard out back."

Heat pooled rapidly into your stomach, elation fluttering through your heart. You knew an animal hid in the depths of his chest. Feral with claws and teeth that snapped at the thought of someone taking what was his. You'd never belong to someone else. You'd never want to. The echo of his words seared into your mind, a vow of forever etched into each vowel and consonant.

He was home. He was here. He was real.

"There's no one else," you murmured, leaning your forehead against his—lips brushing against his with each soft admission. "There could never be anyone else."

All that would go unspoken, all neither of you could say.

I love you. I'll love you forever. Whatever this is…it will only end when we're buried six feet under.

"Good," he replied gruffly. "Now give your old man a proper fuckin' welcome."

The smile you wore deepened as his warm hand cupped your cheek. His skin was dry from the leather and a few cuts were scattered here and there, but nothing could resemble this. The blooming heat that spread across your chest like the roots of an ancient tree. He held you with a tenderness that might have shocked you at first—the fear of harming you burning hot in his stomach.

But this was how he always touched you. With a love that couldn't be replaced. A promise soldified in the lines of his palm, fate driven and earthly bound, and yours forevermore.

Finding his lips beneath his hat, you let go of the breath held deep in your lungs. The taste of his cigars spread on your tongue. A familiar morsel of home you gravitated towards. Later in the evening—when you were both lethargic and naked and covered in all sorts of fluids—he'd puff on a brand new cigar. Giving you taste with lazy kisses and smiles traded in the dark of night.

"Missed you Logan," you mumbled, tongue sliding against his with a breathy moan. "I always miss you."

He chuckled, deep enough to vibrate against your chest—his hands sliding down to grip your waist. "You wanna show me how much?"

"You'd like that huh." Smiling into the kiss, you felt his teeth dig into your lips. He sucked it with a groan, fingers digging harshly into the layers of fabric.

"Mhm." His breath was harsh against your cheek, each kiss filled with a need to ravage what belonged to him. To prove he still held space in your heart. "Missed you every fuckin' day sugar."

You laughed, toying with the hair at the base of his skull—curling your fingers around it to tug him back. The moan he rewarded you with made saliva pool in your mouth. His eyes watched you, dazed with want, mouth parted and swollen from your kisses. And you burned the image of him in your mind.

"You wanna show me how much baby?" you breathed, brushing your lips to his with a teasing laugh.

A biting growl ripped from his throat. "Get inside before I take you out here."

"There's an idea."

The harsh slap to your hip dragged a peal of laughter out of your chest. Stumbling back, your hands yanking the hat off his heat and working the jacket down his arms, you kissed him as if you'd never get the chance to again. Wet and spit slicked. Until your teeth clashed together and his tongue was halfway down your throat. Each moan that dripped from his mouth into yours felt like a fucking reward.

A blissful reminder that you weren't alone; he stood before you, frenzied and aching to feel your skin on his.

Logan couldn't figure out how he wound up in this haven. A home, a lover that stole his breath with each look, and forever right on the horizon. Years spent alone only offered the promise of torment, of a life overflowing with an endless amount of pain.

But for some unknown reason, the sun that used to sear his skin now stood before him lighting the pathway home. The brilliance of you blinded him—warmed every cold aspect that resided in the depths of his chest. Yet he'd rather spend the rest of his life in your fierce heat than suffer in the biting cold again.

Oh how lucky he felt just getting the chance to burn.

Desire simmered sharply in the base of your stomach the further you got into the house—his teeth biting down to the column of your throat, fingers toying with the laces of your corest. He devoured you like a sweet thing to be had. A treat he rarely got to partake in tasting. And fuck if he wasn't going to take his time. You clawed at his shirt, pulling it up and off his body with a hoarse shout of glee—nails piercing the flesh of his shoulders as he yanked your leg around his hip.

He practically dragged you to the small bedroom, tearing off the clothing as he went with harsh snarls of want. You'd worry about mending the fabric later in the morning. Or perhaps the day after that. Given how you could feel the heft of his cock through his pants, pressing to your stomach with each small shift of your body.

"On the bed." The command was punctuated with a slap to your ass—a sharp bite against the skin of your collarbone drew a soft moan to the surface.

He tugged the front of your corset down, dropping to the ground with the remainder of your skirts. Baring yourself to Logan with a smile, you felt the emptiness slip down onto the wood of the bedroom floor. Expelling from your body with each panted breath and soft carress. He turned you inside out with the smallest of actions—the barest of touches.

The time he spent alone and wrapped in thoughts of you became all he lived off of. Your memory turned into the reason he stayed alive.

Unlike so much of his life he now held an answer to why he dragged himself home. Why he forced himself to keep going.

"Lemme see her." His hand wrapped around your leg, pulling open your thighs for him to catch a glimpse of what lay between.

You'd been dripping since he arrived. A sticky wet mess that begged for his attention. Logan salivated at the sight, his eyes zeroing in on the way you glistened for him. On any other night he'd sit you on his face in a quick attempt at gaining the close proximity he longed for when he was gone. Tonight served for a different want—a biting need that dug its teeth into his skin.

"She missed me huh," he mumbled, thumb sliding through your wet folds.

You moaned, breathy and restless. "She did baby."

"'M gonna give her what she needs."

"Logan," you sighed, hand outstretched for him to take. "Need you close."

Every nerve lit like a fuse when he gifted you with a full smile. "I will sugar. Lemme just look at ya first huh?"

With a nod you let your legs spread apart, arms draped above your head. The sight of you stole his breath, but you didn't fare any better. His skin scattered with scars you kissed a thousand times over still rendered you incapable of speaking. Hell you weren't even sure you'd taken a breath since he walked through the door.

Though his body was worn and his hair was graying, you couldn't deny he remained the most beautiful man you ever set your eyes on.

"Like what you're lookin' at?"

Your grin was lazy, eyes overflowing with a language Logan once thought he'd never learn yet now could be considered fluent in. Love.

"I really do," you whispered, sharing the secret with him. The words rarely spoken were shouted at the top of your lungs in each loving praise.

He shook them off when you first met him. Claimed they were false words to make yourself feel better about loving an animal who walked and talked like a human. Although, over time he allowed them to sink into his skin, bathe over his broken and weary soul.

They held him together like a ribbon tied through his soul, placed neatly in a bow on his heart.

His hand was swift in undoing his belt, pushing the remainder of his clothes off to join yours heaped on the floor. And you drank in the sight of the man you adored climbing over your body with a hungry gaze. Your heart flipped, grip sliding along his back as you welcomed him in between your legs—the heavy weight of his cock a warm press against your thigh.

"Welcome home." The smile melded into the kiss he placed on your lips, tongue sliding in the curve along your teeth, to taste every bit of you he could reach.

Bucking your hips into his, you dug your nails into his lower back in the hopes that he'd move. He swallowed your whine, spit trailing down your chin when he pulled back to catch his breath. Moving slowly never worked for you—entirely used to the man who broke you with the intent of putting you back together—and right now was no exception. The torment of not having him tore at your heart, put a splinter in the longing simply to crack you in two even further.

"Hold still," he grunted, his hand shoving your hips back onto the bed. "Movin' so fuckin' much I'm gonna have to tie you down."

Your gasp was wet—needy. "Please. Fuck please-"

"Right." His other hand slid up your torso to rest against the base of your throat—thumb running along the smooth skin that covered your racing pulse. "I forgot who you are, sugar. You'd like that huh?"

Teeth tore at your bottom lip, eyes glazed and pupils blown wide the longer he held you there. Anticipation fried your nerves with each second that passed. But Logan wasn't a cruel man. He knew what you ached for—what you'd give up everything for. The closeness of the man you loved; a chance to have his body, heart, and soul.

Gripping himself, he tapped his cock against your clit, sliding through your slick with a stunted moan. A smile bloomed across his lips at your responding moan—fire streaking down your spine, curling along your limbs. He could drive you to madness and yet you'd thank him each time.

You would be grateful for anything he gave you.

"Don't get quiet on me now." His lips trailed along your cheek as he notched himself at your entrance. "Go on and sing for me sweetheart."

He sunk in with a smooth thrust, stretching you with slickened pain and a hoarse moan against the shell of your ear. And you forgot how to breathe. The pinch of pain quickly dampened with the roll of his hips—the head of his cock pressing snugly against your walls. This is what you missed, what your body screamed for.

The potent euphoria that drowned you under its vicious waves.

"So tight," he grunted. "Guess she really did miss me."

"Logan-" Your head tipped back into the pillows, a loud moan breaking the silence that curled over your bodies like a blanket.

"There she is." Pulling back slightly, he slammed back into you, nearly shoving you up the bed. "My pretty little songbird."

Nothing held you back from the sounds he drew out of your mouth. Each one louder than the last. Until the room was filled with a symphony of your combined pleasure, the vulgar echo of skin slapping against skin and your slick dripping down onto the bed, became all you could think about.

He thrived off it. The sight of you whittled down to nothing but a needy mess, begging for a small hint of his love. Maybe that made him an old man far too fucking dirty to be with someone as prescious at you. But he'd let the guilt eat him alive later. He'd worry about stealing your youth out from under you in the afterglow of feeling you cum.

A harsh thrust that struck against the sensitive spongy part of your walls had your knees clamping around his hips—your fingers scratching at his back to get him to slow down. You needed a chance to breathe, to regain some sense. Logan merely smiled, his fingers tightening around your throat to drag your head up. His lips slotting against yours in a messy kiss.

"Where do ya think you're goin'?" he growled, repeating the move with a bitten out groan. "Thought you wanted me to fuck you. Now you're running?"

"T-Too much-"

The angle changed sharply and suddenly he was no longer grinding into you but fucking right on that spot. A sharp sob of his name only added fuel to the quickly forming flame, quickening his movements until you felt your entire body begin to grow taut.

Slick smeared on the inside of your thighs, sticky and warm and loud enough to make you dizzy each time you heard it. He panted into your mouth, using the hold on your throat as leverage to fuck you back onto his cock.

Logan didn't love softly. He couldn't. Brutality was all he was capable of giving you and like the sweetest angel you took it with a smile. You let him use you up until his name was all you could comprehend. The heady scent of his sweat filled your senses, the salty tang of his skin spread along your tongue as you bit into his shoulder—your teeth marring his already marked skin.

Eventually it would turn purple, fading quicker than usual, but he'd wear it with pride. His own trophy after tearing you apart beneath him.

"Gonna cum?" he asked, mouthing at your breast, moaning at the taste of your skin. "I can feel it."

You nodded frantically, body going taut with each slap of his hips on yours. "C-Can I?"

"So fuckin' polite," he groaned, sucking on your nipple before letting it loose with a pop. Spit dripping down to your stomach. "'Course you can sugar."

Tugging at his hair, you felt the tremble in your thighs spread to the rest of your body. His other hand slipped between your bodies, thumbing at your throbbing clit with a soft moan, dragging you right to the edge of a cliff. A sharp grind of his hips broke the dam within you, flooding you with a mind numbing bliss that scorched your skin.

You cried his name until your throat went raw, tears spilling hotly down your cheeks that he licked up with a smile. The fluttering of your walls dragged a hoarse shout from his chest, his teeth clamping down onto any part of he could reach. He followed you instantly, shoving his cock deep enough to hurt as he filled you with enough cum to spill out.

The echo of your breaths resounded off the wooden walls, his hand dipping down to smear his cum along the inside of your thighs. Coating you in his essence; claiming you with his scent that burned the inside of his nose.

"I did you know," you mumbled, kissing the newly formed bruise on his skin. "Miss you."

He sighed, his forehead dropping to yours. "I know sugar. I missed you too."

"Will you stay this time?"

A grin pulled at the corners of his lips, hips rolling into yours to pull another weak moan from those pretty lips he longed to kiss. "As long as ya want me."

The hesitancy clamped around your heart, filling your stomach with anxiety. You wanted to beg him to never leave again, to spend each moment in the safety of this house. But Logan had always been a ramblin man. He'd never stay in one place too long. Even if eventually he found his way back here, back in the safety of your home.

"Forever?" you breathed, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Logan's heart twisted at the sight. "Yeah sugar," he replied, dipping down to drag his lips along yours. "I like the sound of that.”

[juuuulez]

🔥 | bearblr promptober #7: orgasm control, carmen berzatto.

okay i had enough self control to finally do a dom carmy fic because literally ALL of them so far have been subby tehehehe

i’ll be so honest i haven’t had time to be writing new ones to pump out…i fear when i run out of the ones i’ve already done……..

-> prompt/kinktober masterlist <-

“carmy, carmy, carmy..”

it was a repetitive whine, a high octave in your throat. he wasn’t relenting, tongue flattened against your bare pussy, moulded to the shape of every ridge and fold.

“shh, you can do it.” he soothes, face sticky with you, the words only adding to the heat in your core as he whispers them against your cunt.

it’s been like this for the better part of an hour, with carmy vehemently eating you out. he kept you right on that edge, refusing to add any fingers, let alone his cock, which you ached for. it felt simultaneously like too much and not enough all at the same time.

his lips suck at your clit in a rhythmic motion, pulsing, only getting faster and faster until you’re right on that edge. your hand clenches in his curls, fingers grasping for something to hold onto, something to ground yourself.

the whining only gets worse when he pulls back, resting his face on your thigh, kissing the soft skin there. it leaves behind a mixture of slick and spit, all in imprints of carmy’s lips.

“i know, i know,” he continues to soothe, “one more for me, okay? please? love having you like this, my good girl.”

whatever comes out is garbled, so strung tight that it’s painful, your head thrown back against the cushions and eyes squeezed shut.

“look at me, okay? please?” he pleads with you.

and you do, eyes watering as they glance down at carmy, looking so sweet and perfect against your thigh. a pout pulls at your lips, but you’re unable to resist, moving your hand to find his own.

“good girl.” carmy kisses your knuckles, knowing that you’re a little too far gone to get anything coherent out.

he dips back down, leaving sloppy, open mouthed kisses over your pussy. “perfect. such a good listener.” he whispers, practically lost in his own world, tongue already finding your dripping entrance.

it doesn’t take very long to find that edge again, either. and as promised, carmy lets you have it, because he knows that you’ve been good, that you’d do anything for him.

even wait over an hour to cum, which was an achievement in itself.

[r0tting-rat]

DCA PROMPTOBER 2024

Can I please talk about my God AU? Please please please the worldbuilding is simply delicious please

Day 13 - Night

Pairing: God!Moon x GN reader Warning: None Words: 2400+ Summary: You're a thief and Moon is the God protector of thieves and liars. You strike a deal.

On Ouroboros, a world of wolves, lions, sheep and bunnies, you were a fox. Sly, cunning, evasive and stealthy, a jack of all trades but master of none, doing everything it took to survive no matter the cost. You stole, mostly, and did odd jobs, but for a reason or another everyone in the region knew your name. Or, to be fair, one of your many names. You had made up many aliases during the years—many of which were still spoken like a curse, along with insults and blasphemies—and you would continue to create new ones for each name that would get reported to the guards. 

You were wanted in many cities, looked down upon in multiple villages and beloved by… none, actually. The authorities of each place you had visited in the past had been given orders to arrest you on sight—dead or alive, no one really cared—and for that reason you feared you would need to flee the region of Lumen soon. A pity, honestly, because you were beginning to grow fond of the infinite plains of green grass, immense forests and prosperous cities, but you had to leave them behind and all because of a misunderstanding. You hadn’t stolen the King’s ring, not at all! He had actually hired you to retrieve it after it had been taken by a group of bandits. The king promised you a fortune were you to succeed, but something went wrong while you were rummaging through the criminals’ bags and most recent loot. The ring wasn’t there, but you found many other jewels in the mix which you knew had been stolen along with the ring. You guessed it could have been lost, or maybe they had already sold it, but you thought the king wouldn’t complain too much about it, so you brought back the whole bag. Inside were tiaras, necklaces and golden coins, all belonging to the king and queen of Lumen, but between them there was no ring.

The old man sitting on the throne had stared at you, eyes filled with venom, as you told him everything. 

-It just wasn’t there, believe me, they must have sold it already,- you shrugged, pretending not to see the animosity of the guards surrounding you and pointing their polearms at your throat.

-Do you even know the importance of that ring, thief?- spat the king, but you shrugged once more. 

-Not really,- you replied, -Was it a gift from your wife or something?-

-That ring,- hissed the monarch, -Has the seal of Lumen on it! It has been passed from generation to generation of kings and queens, it has been used to sign laws and documents ever since this city was built, that ring alone is older than history!-

Despite his age, the man stood from his throne to tower over you, imposing in all of his regal glory, and looked at you like you were a mere cockroach which had learned the human language. 

-That ring was a gift from the Sun God to my ancestor, it is proof of the divinity of my role, and I don’t believe you.- The king’s words were spoken in a hateful hiss. 

-What?- you asked, taken aback, -What do you mean?-

-I said that I don’t believe you. What I think is that not only you knew about all of this already, but you have also decided to steal it from me and lie so blatantly about it being “sold” away.- Your eyes darted to the doors of the large atrium, trying to remember if they had been closed behind you after you entered, but the more you thought about it the more you began to panic. -Guards, arrest this thief!-

Before the king could finish barking orders you turned around and ran as fast as you could towards the only exit, slamming your shoulder against the wooden doors decorated with golden flowers and praying they would open. The Luck Goddess was once again on your side and you managed to slip out before any of the guards could lay their hands on you, and before anyone knew it you stole the first horse you found—a beautiful white mare belong to the queen, who had just returned from a stroll—and you left the golden castle behind you.

Just hours later, at the border between Lumen and Umbra, the neighboring region, you jumped off the horse and took a break from riding. There was no time to waste, you knew it well, the king would have your severed head severed on a plate if you didn’t leave immediately, but you needed some time to catch your breath, and you also had a plan to escape. If you managed to leave Lumen you could restart from scratch in the region of Umbra, under a new name, maybe you could even find a dignified job and put an end to your life as an outlaw! The king’s guards couldn’t follow you in the other region, if you crossed the border you would have been safe from them.

Unfortunately, humans couldn’t cross the wild borders between the two regions due to a magical wall that separated the land in two perfectly identical portions, and the only way to cross said barrier was through official roads. Those roads however were guarded on both sides by armed guards, who checked every carriage and requested a permit for each person and animal being transported. Why animals as well? Because of shapeshifters, of course.

That option was completely out of the picture, many people before you had already tried and failed to cross the border via road. Invisibility, faking a permit, corrupting the guards; nothing worked, and you didn’t want to risk being taken back to the king were you discovered. During your many hours of riding however you had remembered about some legends you had heard in the city slums. People spoke of a man, many years before, who had managed to cross the wild border unscathed, after making a deal with the Sun God. Said man was a musician who had been accused of casting a spell on the queen and making her fall in love with him, so he had fled the capital city of Umbra looking for an escape route. At dawn he stopped running and sat on a rock, admiring the sky, and he began to play his lyre, certain that his time was coming to an end.

The legend said that, right as the first rays of the beloved Sun began to peek through, a man clad in a white hood stood in front of him, attracted by the beautiful music. The musician didn’t stop playing despite being terrified of the figure, which towered over him with its inhuman height, but suddenly the hooded stranger spoke to him in a gentle voice. 

-You are talented, human,- the voice rumbled in the air, coming from everywhere around him, -You wish to cross my border, don’t you?- 

The musician found the strength to answer soon after, bowing his head as he recognized the God standing before him. 

-Yes, my Lord,- he spoke, trembling like a leaf, -I have been accused of a crime I didn’t commit by the tyrant of Umbra, there is no place for me here anymore.-

-A crime? Which crime have you allegedly committed, my humble servant?- 

-Adultery!- replied the man, -They claim I have used sorcery on the queen, making her fall for me with my music, but I have done no such thing!-

The God hummed, and from under His hood a gentle smile blessed the eyes of the musician. 

-I am the Sun. Love, music and passion are all part of my domain, so I understand your troubles well. Play a game with me, human, if you win I’ll allow you to cross my border.-

The legend didn’t say which game the two played. It could have been chess, a game of cards, no one knew, the only thing the legend tells is that the musician won, and the Sun God allowed him to leave Umbra and his crime behind. People began to speculate that the Sun God and the Moon God walked the mortal realm during the dawn and dusk, but those that tried to search for Them were rewarded with nothing whatsoever. 

As you sat under a tree, looking at the iridescent hues of the magical threshold in front of you, you wondered if it had anything to do with being “worthy” of seeing the Gods. Night was beginning to fall, the Sun was setting in the horizon and from your spot in the soft grass you could see a myriad of stars illuminating the darkening sky.  

☆

You weren’t sure of when it happened, but you fell asleep. You dreamed of nothing, waking up less than 10 minutes later to a full night sky and a cloaked figure standing before you. You screamed, startled, and immediately your hand flew to your belt, closing around the handle of your dagger. Your wide eyes couldn’t understand what you were seeing, it felt similar to reading in a language you didn’t speak, but your brain was trying to make sense of what was before you nonetheless.

The stranger had a dark hood littered by silver and golden dots, like a piece of the sky had been taken and sewn into the fabric, but the rim of the cloak turned into something akin to vapor when it reached the ground. The fabric which at first reminded you of satin looked almost alive, moving like black sand in the desert during a storm, and just looking at it for too long made you feel dizzy. The figure was way taller than you, forcing you to crane your neck to look at it, but under the hood you saw no face. Still, you felt watched.

The stranger didn’t say a word, you simply stayed there and stared at each other, so you understood that he was waiting for you to speak.

-Am I in the presence of the Moon God?- you asked in a feeble voice, -I… I wish to cross Your border and enter Umbra.-

-What do you think you can give me in return?- asked the hooded being, and his voice was so profound it seemed like it came from the ground under you. You stayed there, puzzled for a moment, before realizing that there wasn’t going to be any game. You weren’t in the presence of the Sun, after all—you were standing before the everlasting Moon. 

-I don’t have much,- you said, -But I promise to do what it takes to pay You back, if You let me escape, my Lord.-

-So you’re asking me a favor based on… a promise?- He laughed, -Don’t you know that promises made by a thief and a liar are less worthy than a handful of dirt?-

-My Lord, are You not the patron God of thieves, liars and wanderers?- you asked, showing far more bravery than you actually had. In reality, you were shaking in your boots just by standing in front of a creature like Him. -Don’t you protect those who walk under your night sky?-

-I’m the God of many things, mortal,- He replied, and you could feel the irritation in the Moon God’s voice beginning to rise, -What you mentioned is just part of my domain. I am the patron God of liars, but I’m also the Law and Justice, or do you not remember?-

You took a step back, ready to flee in case the situation turned sour, but the mist falling from the God’s hood began to envelop you, pulling you closer and making you shiver. 

-I protect those who act hidden by the shadows of the Night I bring, that which you call “Luck” and “Fortune” has been me all along. I have protected you from the harm others may have caused you but I will not stand in the way of justice, for that will be simply the consequences of your own actions.- The God looked down upon you, and your hands lost their grip on the dagger you were holding. You had never felt so afraid in your life, and soon found yourself on your knees in the wet grass.

-Please,- you begged, -I’ll pray, I’ll make sacrifices in your name and forever be devoted if You let me cross, my Lord! I’ll lead a honest life!-

For the first time in your life, ever since you were small, you weren’t lying, and considering the domain of the God you were speaking to you were sure that He was also aware of that. Still, the idea of it seemed to amuse Him greatly, for He began to laugh loudly. Shocked, you stayed still, on your knees, and waited for the divine being to stop taunting your desperation. You uttered a last, choked “please”, which went unheard in the chaos around you. 

-Foolish, oh, so foolish of you!- the Moon God barked, -If you so desperately want safety, then so be it! I’ll save you from an imprisoned future, but I demand a payment.-

The God pulled the hood of his cloak back, revealing His form to you and blinding you with the ethereal beauty of immortality. His dark blue skin gleamed, iridescent like the most precious pearl, and His hair—straight and white—were so long they must have reached His waist. The eyes were red, beautiful and haunting, but the face was a half-blue and half-white mask. He spoke, words came out in His deep voice, but His lips didn’t move, not a muscle did. His expression remained unchanged, stern and serious as it had been ever since the Beginning, just His eyes betrayed His real emotions, and what He was feeling in that moment was amusement.

-You will come with me, human,- he ordered, -You will work as a servant for me and my brother, that is the payment I request in exchange for the safety I will give you.-

Large, beautiful hands covered by silver chains came to grab your chin, tilting your head up and stopping your lips from quivering. His touch was cold, so cold, but at the same time it filled you with joy, elating like a drug. 

-Do we have a deal, my pet?- said the Moon God, -What place is more safe than the side of a God?-

The Moon was offering you more than anyone in the world would have asked for, He was giving you on a silver platter things any other humans would have killed to have, and you…

You looked in his eyes, of the same color of blood, and swallowed. You agreed. 

-Okay,- you croaked, -Deal.-

-Good,- purred the God, -Very good.-

[paracosm-draw]

Promptober Day 1 - Freckles ☄️

Let's begin this challenge with two prompts in one day while I still have the time and inspiration !! 😌

This one is not very NSFW, starting soft with Anakin not very Jedi-ish daydreams ✨

~~~

Anakin was staring. 

He's been told many times that it was not polite. That his gaze was too intense, too uncomfortable when it landed on people. 

He couldn’t help it. When something caught his attention he had to put his whole focus onto it, examining, scrutinizing, dissecting until he could make sense, understand and classify in his brain. 

The object of his current attention lies on Obi-Wan’s face in the shape of tiny droplets of liquid bronze, as if the Sun had lowered itself from the sky to kiss his skin, leaving trails of fire on his nose, cheeks and forehead. It’s a beautiful thing to witness them blooming when the first sun rays pierce from behind the light clouds, bright and strong, bringing promises of warmth for the months to come. It’s as if they herald the coming of summer, even more surely than the elder’s predictions. 

“Do I have something on my face ?” 

Anakin is abruptly drawn from his contemplation by his Master’s amused tone. Obi-Wan is looking at him with raised eyebrows, probably expecting an explanation about why he’s creepily staring at him instead of meditating like he’s supposed to do. 

“Uh, yes.” He replies dumbly. 

“Yes ?” Obi-Wan frowns and raises a hand to his face, only to be stopped halfway by Anakin’s inaudible mumbling. “Mmh ?” 

“I- I said I- I love your freckles.” He stutters, feeling an embarrassing blush creeping up his neck and spreading all the way to his face, although not embarrassing enough to keep his mouth shut, apparently. “It’s very pretty. They, uh- They suit you.” 

Obi-Wan looks at him with slightly wide eyes, looking a bit confused by the random compliment. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, clearing his throat in the process. 

“I- Thank you, Anakin. It’s… That’s nice of you.” 

An awkward silence spreads between them after that, and Anakin realizes he has started staring again. Before he can stop himself he wonders if Obi-Wan’s tunics hide some more. He’s always so frustratingly covered, it’s hard to tell. 

He wishes he could see more. For scientific purposes, of course. He’s nothing if not rigorous. 

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s voice brings him back to reality once more. “Focus. And be mindful of your thoughts… Please.” 

His Master’s cheekbones are a shade darker and Anakin bites his tongue not to grin at that endearing vision. Instead he closes his eyes, trying to focus on their session. Only… His mind wanders quickly towards pale skin and pretty freckles again. 

He imagines following their path with his finger, from the bridge of Obi-Wan’s nose to the hollow of his throat, following them like a star map, tracing constellations on his skin as he goes down. He would have to slide his fingers under the tight lapels of his inner tunic, pushing the tabard aside to unveil a bare shoulder and continue his path. He’s almost certain this part of Obi-Wan’s body is also splattered with little sun stains even though he rarely exposes himself. At this point he would have to make a choice ; exploring the plane of his back or scouting down his chest, stripping him from his layers of fabric in any case. 

It might be a childish fantasy but the idea of discarding Obi-Wan from his clothes, to have him undressed for his eyes only is something that always ignites a little fire inside Anakin’s belly. He saw him one time, in a sleeveless shirt on a particularly hot day and the sight of his bare arms was sufficient to fuel his imagination for the next couple of weeks. 

But he’s drifting away from the topic, and from Obi-Wan’s naked chest and stomach that his mind has to create for lack of factual evidence.

He wonders if he could count every single one of the freckles adorning his body. If he could kiss every single one of them. He feels like his skin would taste like a hot summer day, like warmth and salt and honey. He wonders foolishly if Obi-Wan would let him drag his tongue across the shapes of his body, connecting the dots like a child’s play. He would take all the time in the world, hating the idea of missing one. 

He would learn their pattern, archiving them in his mind one kiss after another until they replace the stars when he closes his eyes. His own private galaxy. 

Someone clears his throat loud enough to pull Anakin from his daydream, and when he opens his eyes, Obi-Wan is standing in front of him, face flushed red to the roots of his hair. 

“We’ll stop the session here. We’ll take it back tomorrow.” He says quickly before turning on his heels and walking towards the door, readjusting the collar of his tunic on the way. 

Anakin stays on the floor, watching him leave pressingly with a bit of confusion. What did he do this time ? 

Oh.

 Oh. 

He might have forgotten to shield his thoughts. 

[imnotasuperhero]

Shelter my soul with your love.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader.

Summary: The absence of the love of your life had you holding onto her sweater for dear life. And as the weeks passed by and her scent started to fade away, you started to feel the dread of losing her at the time that same sweater became your life support.

A/N: DAY 20 OF PROMPTOBER IT'S HERE! This is a continuation of Couldn't stop this if we wanted to, like I promised. Could've posted this on Saturday, but an impromptu chapter of Sweet Blessing took my inspiration away. Lol. Hope you enjoy this thing and your tears are plenty.

-

As your fingers played with the hem of the cozy sweater, you couldn't hold back your mind from going to the past, where better times we lived. A time when you were allowed to see her, where you could hold her and tell her all the things you felt inside.

A better time when you felt complete because you had her.

Now, all you had was this sweater that held the last remains of her. All you had now were the memories and the tears that you were left with.

Nowadays, you were just a shell of what you used to be, and the only comfort you could feel was when holding onto every single trace Wanda has left behind for you to remember her.

Funny how life can take things from you out of the blue. No matter how happy they make you or how invested you are, apparently, when a door closes, it can be right in your nose.

Looking through the floor-to-ceiling window, you made yourself smaller on the couch, allowing Wanda’s almost-faded scent that impregnated the fluffy sweater you religiously wore to engulf you, taking your soul to a sunny day in the park with your beloved’s company.

If only you could revive those impromptu dates.

Your apartment had been abandoned long ago, having settled camp at the massive compound in hopes of easing your pain. But even though most days you made it through the day in a relatively acceptable mood, some days were like a plumb blanket had been placed over you, making it impossible for you to get out of bed, turning the way to your job into utter torture.

Brushing away the never-ending tears, you decided to have some mercy on your rumbling stomach and quickly fixed yourself a simple sandwich since it was a Friday. The week had been full of work, leaving you drained physically and mentally.

“Miss Stark, your vitals are getting agitated. May I check them quickly?” The AI broke the silence, making you work on your breathing.

The lump in your throat had messed with the small bite you just swallowed, making it hard to pass the food.

“‘S okay,” you answered as you chugged a glass of water, fist gripping tightly at the corners of the sink.

You hated eating when you’ve been crying, and you should’ve known better.

The tears falling down your eyes for another different reason than before had you working on your breathing, matching every exhalation with a failed attempt to swallow the bolus trapped in your throat. 

Once you finally achieved your task, you filled the glass with water, almost throwing the discarded sandwich on the fridge, before you made your way to Wanda’s bed. The need to just sleep your life away was stronger than any TV show or movie on your current list.

You didn’t like this new empty person you had become. But the sorrow and longing and… torture you experienced had you with nothing but just the needed strength to breathe. So working on your inner growth and that bullshit was not possible at this time. And frankly, you weren’t desperate to get any better, for her absence had ripped your will of living away.

If only you had a grave to cry her on.

Wanda’s ghost following you everywhere was the only thing that had you moving. But as time passed and her body wasn’t around, her smell kept fading away, making it harder and harder to breathe. It was as if your own life had started to leave your body painfully slowly.

So in an attempt to keep her looming presence, you didn’t take off her sweater. Instead, you just laid down on her pillow before covering yourself tightly with the covers, breathing in as much of her aroma to keep you warm as you silently prayed for this agony to end. Once and for all.

“Detka,” her voice, as clear as day, sent shivers down your spine.

“Wands? Wands, where are you?” You cried, the sorrow engulfing you like a cocoon. “Please, I need you.”  

Standing there in the middle of nowhere, with the big tall trees surrounding you, the anxiety started to eat you from the inside out.

“Detka,” Wanda’s voice called again and you couldn’t help the choking, feeling your knees collide against the dirty grass at the confusion.

Her voice was way too clear for it to be a result of your imagination.

“Detka,” you felt her hand cup your left cheek and you couldn’t help breaking down completely at the way-too-real feeling. “Baby, I’m here.”

“Wanda,” you cried louder, leaning your head on her hand, “I can’t see you. Please, take me with you,” you begged as your hand placed over your left cheek, choking on the brutal sob that escaped you when you didn’t find her hand there. “I don’t wanna live without you,” you begged, feeling your insides tear apart at the phantom of her.

“Y/N, I am here, my love.” despite the security in her voice, the fact that her touch was only vivid in your imagination had your lungs fighting for a single bit of oxygen.

“Wanda, I’m begging you. I don’t wanna be without you anymore,” your labored breaths sent a painful throb to your head.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” You felt Wanda’s lips against your lips for a few seconds too long before she connected your foreheads.

Jolting awake, your eyes blinked rapidly trying to adjust to the dim lights, making sense of the body against you.

“Detka,”

Looking up, a heart-wrenching cry ricocheted through the room as you launched yourself into those pair of arms you’ve dreamed of for the last 2 months.

Feeling her warmth engulf you, Wanda kissed the top of your head. “I am here, my love.” She only tightened her grip around you, providing you the comfort and the time to calm yourself as she cooed against your hair, rocking you both. “I am here,”

Once your breath returned to normal, you broke the hug to look at her face, choking on a new wave of tears as you cupped her cheeks, looking into those forest green eyes you had missed oh, so much.

“You’re alive,” you cried.

“I am alive, Y/N,” she smiled tearfully, allowing your eyes to scan her face.

Choking on a sob, you launched at her once again, placing your weight on hers as you peppered her face with sloppy kisses as if trying to show her the unconditional love you held for her.

Pausing for a moment, your eyes locked with hers and you felt your heart squeeze in pain at seeing the tears running down her face.

But instead of speaking the words on the tip of your tongue, you joined your lips together, pouring in the kiss every single ounce of devotion you held for her, sighing deeply as your lips danced to a well-known melody at the time your soul eased the suffering away.

“I don’t wanna live without you,” you spoke against her lips, nuzzling your nose against hers.

“I’ll never leave you again,” Wanda’s voice was so intimate you felt a chill run down your spine.

“I love you,” you vowed, sighing in the kiss Wanda just started.

“I love you too, Detka,” the brunette kissed your nose before carefully pushing away. But before you could protest, your eyes scrutinized her movements as she started to undress until she was only in her underwear to do the same with you after, crawling under the covers as she opened her arms in a silent invitation.

Smiling, you cuddled against her front, basking in her half-naked body against yours. 

As her scent filled your nostrils, you thanked the fluffy sweater discarded on the floor for keeping you company all this time, making a mental note to have Wanda wear it every day for when she had to go away in her missions. And for your dad to design a device to give you constant information on her vitals.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Wanda spoke against your head.

“I’m not sorry,” you placed a tender kiss on her chest, right where the origami raven was resting, before you looked up, smiling sheepishly.

“I’m in love with you,” she smiled before she kissed you, squishing your body once in the hug before her hand started to run up and down your spine in lazy caresses. “I’ll always be with you, like I know you’ll always be with me. Whereve I go.”

“Marry me,” you pouted, fighting the smile at Wanda’s soft giggles.

“Make it right.” She clicked her tongue.

“Game on, Witchy,” you pecked her lips before you cuddled impossibly closer against her soft skin.

Giving up to the mental exhaustion you’ve been under, you allowed Wanda’s presence to lull you to sleep, knowing she was alive, by your side.

The strong, calm thudding of her heart provided you the comfort you needed, like a silky veil against your scarred soul.

With the last ounce of consciousness you had, you thanked whoever was out there for returning her to you, making a silent promise never to lose faith again.

Taglist: @wandabear @red1culous @xxxtwilightaxelxxx (if you wanna be tagged in my fics, let me know)

[detectivesebcas]

Promptober 2024 Day 9- Whump (AU, Post-STEM)

Prompt: Whump (in any universe)

Warnings: none

Stefano perks up at the sound of Sebastian’s key in the front door, turning down the stove so he can greet him properly.

When he rounds the corner to the living room and catches sight of Sebastian, his excitement is suddenly tempered with concern.  Sebastian looks tired, face tight and shoulders hunched, but he’s probably just had a long day at work.  He gives Stefano a strained smile and tosses his wallet and keys onto the table by the door.

Stefano is already on his way over, and he reaches out to wrap his arms around Sebastian the way he always does when Sebastian gets home, but this time the other man tenses and emits a little grunt.

Stefano steps back, taking in Sebastian’s face with a critical eye as he lets his hands come to rest lightly on his shoulders.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Sebastian says.

Stefano is silent and unconvinced.

“I’ve just had a stomachache today,” Sebastian says.  “That’s all.”

Stefano is pretty sure that’s not all, but Sebastian leans in to give him a kiss and then heads upstairs to change.  He’s taking the stairs slowly and carefully, which further arouses Stefano’s suspicions, but he returns to making dinner, because supposedly his husband is a grown man who can take care of himself.  Besides, convincing Sebastian to do something he doesn’t want to do is next to impossible.

Ten minutes later, Sebastian shuffles downstairs and into the kitchen, still holding himself in the same stiff, hunched over posture as before.  Stefano continues to eye him with concern, especially when Lily returns from her friend’s house and goes in for a hug.

Sebastian grits his teeth and wraps his arm around her.  Lily is so excited to tell him about something that happened at school today that she doesn’t notice anything is wrong, but it’s painfully obvious to Stefano.

After dinner, when Lily has gone upstairs to do her homework, Stefano decides he’s let this go long enough.

“Sebastian,” he says, coming into the living room where Sebastian is awkwardly easing himself down onto the couch.  “You’re clearly in distress.  Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” Sebastian insists.  “Just a little sore.”

“You hardly ate any dinner.”

“I wasn’t hungry,” Sebastian counters.

Stefano raises an eyebrow at that, because Sebastian is always hungry, but he lets the silence stretch between them until Sebastian speaks.

“Okay,” he finally admits, “I’m not fine.  I actually feel pretty lousy.”

Stefano nods.  Sebastian looks terrible as well, but it won’t help either of them to point that out right now.  He is still hunched over, and his face is very pale and covered with a thin sheen of sweat.  He takes a deep breath before he makes his next suggestion, because he knows Sebastian isn’t going to like it.

“We need to get you to the hospital.”

Sebastian is silent for several seconds before answering.

“Yeah.  Okay.”

The fact that Sebastian is putting up so little resistance is a huge red flag for Stefano, and he immediately calls their neighbor to come over and stay with Lily, then begins the tedious process of getting Sebastian into the car.

Sebastian’s steps are short and halting now, and every movement is punctuated by a sharp intake of breath or a groan of pain.  Once or twice, Stefano seriously considers calling an ambulance, but Sebastian is still responsive and able to move on his own, and the hospital is only ten minutes away, so he settles for driving at excessive speeds and swearing in Italian.

When they arrive, the intake nurse immediately goes to get a wheelchair for Sebastian.

“Don’t leave me,” he says.  For a moment Stefano thinks he’s joking, but Sebastian is staring earnestly into his face and looking about as lost as Stefano has ever seen him.

“I won’t,” he answers.

He keeps his promise.  He follows Sebastian back to the triage area and sits with him while a tech draws his blood and a doctor examines him.

“Looks like acute appendicitis,” the doctor says, “but we need a CT scan to be sure.”

By that point they’ve given Sebastian some pain medication, so he’s moving around more comfortably, but he’s still tense and much too quiet.  

They’re waiting for the results of the CT scan when Sebastian says, “They said I’m probably going to need surgery.”

Stefano nods, unsurprised based on how this visit has been going so far.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asks Sebastian.  He’s not talking about physical health, and Sebastian seems to understand that.

“If you’re here,” Sebastian says, slipping a hand into his.

Sebastian’s hand is shaking a little, and Stefano gives it a squeeze.

“Of course I’ll be here,” he says.  “I’ll always be right here.”

Sebastian takes a deep breath and nods and squeezes back.

Stefano waits until they’ve given Sebastian the preanesthetic, at which point he is much more relaxed and commenting about how interesting the ceiling is, before he gets out of the way so the professionals can do their job.

He takes a seat in the waiting room and commences an hour and a half of mindlessly scrolling his phone, staring into space, and wondering what the hell he’s supposed to do if anything happens to Sebastian.  Until now, he’s been too focused on Sebastian to entertain his own worries, but now they are bubbling up inside him, and his mind is racing.

His heart leaps into his throat when the surgeon comes out to talk to him, but she’s telling him that everything went well and that Sebastian is asking for him, and the tightness in his chest starts to subside.

He follows her into recovery where Sebastian is wrapped up in blankets.  He’s drifting in and out of consciousness and looks like he’s struggling to keep his eyes open, but as soon as Stefano takes his hand a smile spreads across his face.

“I’m right here, Sebastian,” Stefano murmurs.  “I’m always going to be right here.”

[abiiors]

stress relief 💫 // george daniel x reader

promptober '23 - day 8

a/n: all aboard 🥁🥁🥁 the self-indulgence train cw: smut, oral (m receiving), lowkey face fucking wc: 1.1k

you watch george from the door of his home studio—rubbing his tired face for the millionth time. his headphones have run out of battery. again. and he changes them for his alternate pair. again. he needs a break, he needs a stress relief. 

so you walk up to him, stopping right behind him to trail your fingers on his back. 

“hi baby,” you hum, bending you to kiss his head. george melts into your touch. 

he doesn’t speak, only looks up at you with tired eyes, pulling you towards him by your waist until you come to a stop, standing right between his legs. 

“george…”

“yes, love?” his face is already nuzzled into your stomach, into the soft material of your jumper. george practically moans when you scratch his scalp. 

“you’ve been here a while.”

he clicks his tongue, looking up at you while resting his chin on your stomach. “have i been ignoring you?” he pouts, looking mostly remorseful. 

it doesn’t last very long. within moments you feel his fingers snaking inside your jumper, lifting it up for he can press kisses on your warm skin; on your hip, and your stomach, right below your belly button, trailing lower as heat creeps into your veins. 

his stubble feels delicious against your skin, tingly and scratchy, making you shiver. you almost change your mind then, almost decide to let him continue it. almost, but not quite. 

“george?” 

“hmm?”

he watches you intently, eyes roaming all over your body as you kneel between his legs and look up at him through your lashes. at this height, you can see the bulge forming in his pants, still only half hard but that could be taken care of. 

“let me take care you?” your voice is soft, even as the urge to clench your thighs together grows stronger by the minute. “please, baby… just wanna make you feel good.”

for good measure, you let your cheek rest on his thigh, looking up at him eagerly. it has the effect you’re hoping for. george swallows roughly, only nodding once to give you permission. his hand lingers on your head, stroking it slightly. 

“looking at me like that,” he murmurs, “how can i say no to you?”

you play with the drawstrings of his joggers, letting the back of your hand graze against his crotch until he’s fully hard and lightly squirming under your touch, restless for some relief. so you pull him out, relishing his thickness in your hand and practically salivating at the thought of his weight on your tongue. 

george moans lightly at the first touch—a trail of your finger up along the thick vein that runs along his underside. 

you stare at him through your lashes, making sure he’s looking at you when you lick up his slit, already leaking with precum. 

“fuck… baby,” george sighs, trying so hard to keep his eyes open, to watch you as you put just the tip of his cock in your mouth. your hand is wrapped around his base, pumping lightly. 

you know it feels good because a moment later, his eyes flutter shut. 

his soft sighs turn into groans as you take him deeper into your mouth, only halfway through, still pumping him with one hand and swirling your tongue around his tip. but george is getting desperate, his hips jerk as he thrusts into your mouth reflexively making you gag around him. 

“shit, shit–sorry baby,” he scrambles, eyes open wide as he wipes away the tears in your eyes but that simply won’t do. 

“do it again,” you tell him, clenching your thighs together for at least some friction. “need you to use me, to take out all your stress. promise, i’ll be a good girl.”

george still looks unconvinced though, so you take a hold of his hand and rest it on your head, taking him deep in your mouth once again. 

whatever hold george has on himself snaps at the small gesture. his fingers tighten in your hair, holding you in as he thrusts his hips again, tentatively at first. just checking to see if you can take it. when you nod at him—as much as you can at least—he thrusts again, this time faster than before, harder. and with each thrust you feel more of his frustration coming out.

you feel the saliva pooling in your mouth each time his tip hits the back of your throat, feel the burn around your mouth from his thickness. feel the ache between your legs that grows stronger and stronger. 

“oh fucking! shit—” he moans cutting himself off as you hum around him and hollow your cheeks. your scalp stings from his hold, mixing pain and pleasure, making you hiss each time. but his gentle touches and soft praise make up for it.

“such a perfect girl,” he coos, words falling carelessly off his lips between each thrust, “taking my cock so well. my good girl.”

the praise has you growing wetter, moaning around him as a frustration builds in your body, a need for release but this is not about you. every time george falters, worried he might be going faster than you can take, to squeeze his thigh to let him know you’re okay, even when your jaw aches and saliva dribbles down your chin. but you know it’s not long now, you can feel him twitching inside your mouth, can feel the way his hips buck and his moans grow louder. 

you hollow your cheeks again, moan again to let the vibration do its job. and it works like a charm. 

“shit shit shit—” george pants, eyes rolled to the back of his head and jaw slack from pleasure, “gonna cum love, gonna cum in your mouth okay?”

“shit so perfect…”

his entire body tenses in that moment, stomach tightening visibly before you feel the thick, warm cum shoot right into your throat and all the way down. you try to keep up with him, swallowing everything he gives you but some of it dribbles down your chin anyway, mixing in with the drool, making a mess. 

“my pretty little mess,” he sighs softly, as if reading your mind. still moving gently as he rides out the last waves of his orgasm, his cock leaking with the last drops of cum. 

george caresses your cheek with his hand, tracing the outline of his now softening cock. it’s a loving touch, a gentle touch. something that has you burning from the inside. 

when you finally let go of his cock, you keep your mouth open, showing him the insides. letting him know you swallowed everything like a good girl. 

“was i good?” 

the question makes him chuckles, fingers combing through and playing with your traces. “you were perfect,” he smiles. “now how about i take care of you.”

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855 @beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername @celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied

add yourself to the taglist

[magentakat]

Welp. I’m struggling with my writing currently (for a variety of reasons) but want to post at least a little something and get the brain juices flowing again—sooooooooo DCA promptober I do! (Likely won’t write for every prompt but I had fun with this one so I’ll likely do at least a few of ‘em. :])

These will be mostly from the various AUs/stories I am currently working on just to clarify (like this one!). Also not going to edit them really so weird wording and whatnot are to be expected. I’ll also be posting these all over on AO3 for those who prefer reading there instead.

That said, enjoy!

Day 1: Best Friend—580 words

“You seem malcontent…”

The night guard halts their patrol, visibly fighting to restrain themself from further reacting to the unsolicited comment or the giggling that follows it. Regaining their composure they resume their stroll, ignoring the gangly figure on their metaphorical tail. It’ll only get worse if they entertain the low-ball attempts at humor and teases.

“Hmm? No, you’re right, delivered that maladroitly,” the animatronic pretends to muse, his chin tapping audible to the figure below him, “maltreated that sentence.” He pauses, dramatically sniffing (as if he could even smell) in before announcing with a faux-disgusted air, “eugh, definitely malodorous.”

That finally elicits the reaction the mischievous robot has been digging for. “No, Moon.” They tilt their head back, staring above at the twin pinpricks of red light spinning in delight. “Rude. Stop being such a damn menace while I’m trying to work.”

“Aww,” He coos, overly saccharine, “you feeling maligned?”

His unwilling audience groans, flopping forward theatrically as they fight back the grin attempting to break free. “You are really stretching for ‘em tonight, are you that bored?”

“Maaaaaaaybe,” Moon draws out the word, chuckling audible beneath. The tortured guard draws upright as he touches down, landing lightly upon the floor next to them. “Only one more, I promise.”

They pretend to think on it, hemming and hawing despite both parties knowing what their answer will be. “Alright, I guess I’ll allow it—but after that no more, it’s getting old.”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbles, taking their outstretched pinky in his much larger one, “so grumpy.” They watch as his face rotates once, then twice, pausing upside down before, with a click and a mischievous giggle, it slowly twists back into its typical orientation. “You ready?”

The guard nods, motioning the lunar-themed animatronic to come closer as they continue to maintain as straight of a face as they can. Moon obliges, hunching over so as to be closer to their level as he leans in conspiratorially. “…Mallard.”

“Pff—” The laughter they’d been holding back tumbles out, clutching at their stomach while the other watches in obvious glee. “Mallard? Mallard? Of all the ridiculous words you could have used you use a duck?”

They swear his permanent grin widens. “It worked,” he teases, lithe frame swaying with the force of his delight.

They answer with an eye roll, pretending to be annoyed, “I guess. Still don’t know why my name amuses you this much, but whatever.”

“Won’t tell me what it’s short for—have to try options until I find it.”

“It’s not mallard, as funny as that is,” they answer, turning away towards the center of the open atrium, “you’ll just have to keep trying—tomorrow.”

“Alright, little bat,” he concurs, oversized hand near-engulfing their head as he pats them patronizingly, ruffling their hair with a snicker as they attempt to push him away in protest. “Worse than Rumpelstiltskin,” the animatronic jokingly gripes as he ascends towards the ceiling, no doubt retreating back to the shadows before the lights catch him out again.

Mal’s smile remains even after he departs, happily humming as they resume their rounds in earnest. They wonder, not for the first time, if he’s already aware that there’s nothing else to their name—and then, how long he’ll continue the ruse after he finds out. Their friend isn’t the type to give up on a perfectly good bit, after all, even when he perhaps should. ‘Maltreated that sentence’ was absolutely too far of a stretch.

[clumsiestgiantess]

So I’ve had a cool idea for a new story but it’s hella long and would probably span like three books so I’ve only ever written short snippets for prompts and stuff.  With promptober/inktober & nanowrimo coming up, I thought maybe y’all should have a synopsis of the story.  This is just so I can share more of my writing and you’ll actually understand what it’s about.

The story opens in a fantasy world that’s sort of medieval, sort of rural town-ish.  There’s known magic and monsters and legends and gods that live somewhere too high up to see, like a version of Mount Olympus.  The main character is your typical hero’s journey type hero.  He’s prophesied to become a great warrior after finding a powerful sword and goes out on a quest to save his village from a famine.  His sister doesn’t believe in magic and thinks it’s a wild goose chase.  She begs him not to go because he’ll probably die trying, but pressure by the rest of the village convinces him to leave.  There’s a legend of forest spirits who have magic that can help them; our hero must slay one and gain the core of its power.  The village elders can then use the core to get rid of what’s causing the blight.

After the typical heroic quest fighting monsters and such, he comes across the forest spirit’s rumored home.  It’s creepy and derelict, overgrown with strange plants.  The hero, while exploring the place, finds a living resident hiding in a collapsed house.  A fairy.  (fairies in this universe are small, but not crazily small.  Our hero is minigiant height compared to her)  She’s an eerie sight to be sure, with bug-like features and multiple limbs, but boy is she scared.  She knows the rumors about their kind — knows our hero is there to kill her.  She would fly away, but they're inside and he’s blocking the door. 

Thankfully, the hero realizes she’s no creepy monster, and can’t bring himself to kill her.  However, there’s a reason the fairy’s village is so decrepit.  Her kind had been infected with a plague of parasitic mushrooms like the ones that infect ants.  The mushrooms use the fairies’ cores like magic fertilizer.  Just like how the irl mushrooms use ants to carry their growths to a good spot then plant themselves there through the ant’s body, these mushrooms are using the fairies to bring them cores to continue growing itself, like a mind-controlled cult offering.  The hero (being the hero he is) uses his powerful sword to kill the giant hivemind mushroom, freeing everyone under its control.  

Of course, the fairies are thankful, but they still can’t offer him their power (because it’s in them.  They would legitimately have to die and tear the core from their chest.)  Our hero’s new fairy friend (& potential love interest) offers to come with him herself and use her magic to help the village.  Both he and her kind simultaneously tell her no.  People would kill her the moment she stepped into the village.  (That’s also the reason she and everyone else couldn’t go for help when the mushroom took over)  However, the village comes together to pool their magic and form a talisman of sorts that will keep plants from dying.  After a heartfelt goodbye, he leaves the fairies’ village and returns home with the promise to come back and visit.

His own village celebrates his return and everything is better than ever!  His sister is glad to have him back safe, but she’s really surprised by the magic.  There are good reasons she didn’t believe in it.  She’d been doing research while he was away.. she doesn’t believe the gods are, well, gods.  (Of course they are!  We’ve seen them!  They wander by once and a while!)  But things don’t add up.  It’s…  almost like the gods don’t know they exist.  They’re giant behemoths.  They walk right by looking right out over everything.  She’s done every blasphemous thing she can think of in secret; they’re supposed to come drag her off and smite her, but nothing’s happened.  Everyone prays for rain from them and expects it to come, but she can tell by patterns in the weather that it’s not going to happen.  She knows it’s a bunch of bullshit.  Our hero tells her to just keep it to herself, fearing she’ll be exiled for her beliefs, or worse, hung.  He doesn’t believe her.  She says she can prove it.

(That’s part one) Part two is in the sister’s perspective, happening at the same time as the first part.

After doing the things mentioned above (her trying to see if the gods even know about them), she decides to run off and find out where exactly the gods live.  She blames her leaving on trying to find her brother so the village doesn’t get suspicious.  After weeks of wandering, her supplies have almost run out and she’s lost.  Following the gigantic gods is so hard when they move with such large steps.  She’s beginning to fear the worst for herself when a goddess happens to stop nearby.  They’re searching for something in the grass.  She sneaks over to investigate and finds the goddess is capturing monsters with her bare hands, collecting them like little trinkets.  She’s so fascinated by how harmless the monsters appear to the goddess that she doesn’t realize she’s been spotted.  Next thing she knows, she’s captured just like the monsters.

As the world of the gods is more fully fleshed out to the reader, its revealed that the gods’ realm that’s too high and far for the people of the village to see is actually a house.  The entire fantasy world was nothing but the field in the back between it and the woods.  The ‘monsters’ are just more gruesome depictions of small animals and bugs.  The fairies.. yeah no the fairies are still real.  

The ‘goddess’ is actually just a woman who works on the farm where the ‘fantasy world’ is located.  She’d been collecting some new bugs for her pinboard collection with a bit of free time and unknowingly took our tiny main character too.  She’s suffocating the bugs one by one, attaching them to new spots on the board absentmindedly.  Meanwhile, our main character is scared to death because she’s going to be suffocated and impaled.  

Thankfully, the human realizes she’s not a bug and studies her with fascination.  At barely two centimeters tall, she can’t understand our mc, and the human’s voice had been so loud and dragged out over the outdoor space that everyone believed the gods spoke in their own language.  Through a long process of fear and angst, the two figure out how to communicate, and realize they aren’t that different.  Both bond over the fact that our mc was right!  She’s very intrigued by all the strange human technology.  She wants to go back and tell the village the truth, but realizes she can’t.  That would tear apart their entire religion and way of life!  And that’s if they believed her.  If they didn’t, they’d surely punish her with some sort of gruesome death sentence.

After staying with and befriending the human, she returns to the village because she’s been homesick.  Living with everything at such a massive scale can be stressful and tiring.  Plus, she wants to at least see her brother if he makes it back.  The human offers to bring her close (but not too close) to the village and they make plans on how to contact eachother again.  They’ll go on all sorts of small adventures together, searching for her brother and just getting to know and trust one another. When her brother does return, she tells him her theories, he doesn’t believe her, she says she can prove it, and the whole thing ties back together.

(part 3, the fanale)

Back to the ‘present’, our hero curiously follows his sister out on a little adventure, and when they get to the meeting spot, she sets up the message for the human to find.  A storm blows in while they wait for a reply and our hero and his sister get separated by rain. Just as he finds his way back to her, he sees she’s being taken away by the human.  The human is really just getting her out of harm’s way, unable to hear that she brought her brother along with the noise of the storm.  All our hero sees is his sister yelling at a goddess who — as per the stories of those who blasphemy the gods — is being dragged off to nowhere to die.

Our hero immediately seeks help from his fairy friend, the only one who might be powerful enough to bargain with a goddess.  When he tries to tell her about it, she just looks at him confused.  (What gods? / The giant ones that look like me but massive!  Haven’t you seen them before? / You mean the humans? / The what?)  Fairies know about humans, and know that they’re unpredictably dangerous.  Both mc and fairy are convinced that his sister’s in major trouble and come up with a plan to get her back.  Meanwhile, said sister has told the human about the mix up, and they go back to look for her brother but obviously he’s gone.

The two are soon confronted by a rescue party of one concerned brother and fairy duo.  The fairy threatens the human with magic, but soon everyone is confused by the sister herself defending the human.  Human’s confused because that’s a real actual magic fairy.  Fairy’s confused because the human has somehow been tamed.  Our hero’s confused because he thought his sister had been kidnapped.  His sister’s confused because why does her brother know a forest spirit?  (He’d kept that a secret for the fairies’ sake) 

After a long explanation from all sides, everyone calms down and hangs out at the human’s house, staying the day because that day was exhausting and no one really wants to go back home.  When they do, they come up with a plan: they’ll let the village know that the world isn’t as scary as it seemed.  The spirits in the woods are actually really friendly, and the towering gods are just them but bigger, no ethereal powers whatsoever.

They do try to get everyone to communicate, and things go pretty well.  It takes people some time to understand, but utopia is beginning to form as everyone shares technology and achievements.  The smaller people (They’re what’s called a cight, tiny humans that can see and predict the future to an extent) are far more inventive and ahead of the fairies’ time (though the fairies do have magic), and the human’s technology is ahead of both, though they could also learn quite a lot from the other civilizations.  

Things are going well until the brother/sister duo gets kidnapped.  It’s the original village elders who’d mysteriously disappeared before anyone could question them on why their ‘knowledge’ was wrong.  The truth is: they knew all along, and have reasons for keeping everyone apart.

Before their village was established, before they even knew humans existed, their kind forsaw the ‘end of the world’.  It would be caused by an event just like this, where all three beings would try to come together in peace.  In those old times, no one had even seen another being that looked different to them, but as humans expanded and territories moved closer together, they began to see eachother so the elder lineage decided to do something to stop the coming together of all beings.  They created the belief that fairies would use their magic to overtake them, and turned them into monsters to be slain for a reward.  They turned humans into uncaring sacrifice-demanding gods as an excuse to get rid of people who might find out the truth.

The elders of this day forsaw our hero’s sister finding out the truth about humans, but also saw that she wouldn’t reveal the truth unless she had her brother around to confide in.  Therefore, they made up the prophecy that he was meant to be a hero and sent him away on some silly quest to a place they thought he would never return from — the fairies’ village.  (Before the mushroom takeover, if someone found a fairy the collective would imprison them in their village to stop people from revealing where they live.  They’ve done this with both humans and cights. The elders knew where it was because they have foresight)  However, once our hero returned there wasn't enough time to prevent him from coming across the human.

Now in every single future they see, the humans eventually wipe everyone out.  The siblings argue that the human wouldn’t tell anyone, but it doesn’t matter according to the elders.  Apparently, either the others who know the human get suspicious of them and find the village, or the next humans who live there sell the farmland and everything gets plowed under to build more houses.  There are other less likely scenarios, but many of them end with someone getting too curious for their own good and accidentally trying to befriend a horrible human. It might not happen this generation, or the next, or the next, but the two siblings have sealed their fate by revealing the truth.  Inevitably their kind will go extinct by the human race.  Shortly followed by the fairies.

The story will end on a hopeful note after defeating/escaping the elders.  Everyone lives at peace and the human does their best to keep everything secret, only keeping the knowledge within the family line of trusted successors.  Though I guess I’d leave it up to the reader whether or not the ‘end of the world’ comes to pass or was avoided by everyone working together.

Thats it, that’s the thing. I told you it would be too long to write.

[thecoppercompendium]

TTRPGs for Palestine – what I’m excited about

Image by Jes the Human (the amazing organiser of the bundle), used with permission

Earlier this month I made a post about the TTRPGs for Palestine itch.io bundle, saying I would make a proper post after I got back from the con I was attending. Well, it’s been a week since that con, and I’m back to make the proper post I promised!

Here’s the plan: I’m going to spend several hours going through as many games as I can in the bundle and picking out some that intrigue me (I wish I could talk about more but I am one mere human). Brace yourself, this is going to be a long post, in fact, multiple long posts.

I’m going through the bundle alphabetically – there’s a lot of games, so it’ll be a while before I reach the far end of the alphabet. One day I’ll reach Z…

Jump below the cut for the games, or go buy the bundle and come back after!

199X: SHUTDOWN by Thursday Garreau

The game is described on the itch page as “a retro-throwback cyberpunk microgame” and sees players as troubleshooters in an enclosed corporate city, lorded over by a mad AI. The flavour seems really interesting and I can’t wait to dig into its dystopian hellscape.

Find 199X: SHUTDOWN here.

5 Second Rule by Lucky Newt Games

This one sounds hilarious and a fantastic thinking-outside-the-box type game. The core concept is you play a superhero – with a catch. Your powers are limited to or by 5 seconds. You and a team of similarly-limited heroes must work together to make it through the training facility. This sounds like an absolute ball to play, cannot wait to grab some friends to give it a try.

Find 5 Second Rule here.

A Cold Wind and a Dark Sky by various authors

Not sure what kind of thing you want to play? A Cold Wind and a Dark Sky is a game anthology from a host of authors, featuring 31 entries created for #Promptober and the Minimalist TTRPG Jam. With how inventive the authors and prompts are, you’re sure to find a gem in here.

Find A Cold Wind and a Dark Sky here.

A Matter of Time by L Watson

Reading through the page for A Matter of Time sets a definite tone. There’s a playthrough excerpt, followed by a short passage before the page continues. I knew I’d be interested in this one before I made it halfway down the page. I’ll let the passage speak for itself:

There's something behind you in the mirror. Echoed footsteps just a bit too slow to be your own. Your fully charged phone dies as you go to take a photo. For every hasty justification and reassurance, something here is wrong. There's an animal instinct inside you on high alert, goosebumps trailed across your skin. Do you believe in ghosts? Are you sure?

I’m a sucker for horror, and this seems right up my alley. It’s designed as a two-player game, so I’ll be working out which of my friends would be most onboard with being scared shitless.

Find a Matter of Time here.

A Stitch in Time by Poorna Mazumdar and Armaan Babu

The itch page for this game is brief but what there is definitely caught my interest. It’s another two-player game, with players taking on the roles of chrono-stellar cartographers. The mechanic that caught my interest in particular was using letters to restore forgotten places. I’m always up for imaginative mechanics, and this fits the bill! Looking forward to digging in properly!

Find a Stitch in Time here.

ABOMINATIONS by Elliot Davis

Once again, I feel like the page sells the concept better than I ever could, so let’s start with a quote:

You are a Scientist. They tried to tell you to stop playing God. You replied, “Who’s playing?” and spliced in another gene.

In this GM-less game players embody the aforementioned scientists, splicing together their own abominations, then pitting your creation against others. I particular like the gene system included – it uses letter tiles, as in Bananagrams or Scrabble. Overall, this looks exactly my level of chaotic and I suspect I know some folks who this would be perfect for.

Find ABOMINATIONS here.

That’s all for now, folks! I’ll be back with some more from the bundle later!

[fairlyabookie]

Prince and Swan

Author's note: Happy October, everyone! This is my piece for Promptober Day 1: Dancing! If you'd like to participate in this event, please check out @/yumewithyou on Twitter! This may or may not be a piece dedicated to the very exciting masquerade event we'll be having in twst! Enjoy!

Whispers of a masquerade floated around campus ground around the days when the leaves turn fiery orange and rusty brown. The students, albeit unfamiliar with masquerades, gather about in anticipation of future plans for this masquerade. They contemplate on bringing dates, woes on setting up, and their attires for the event. However, one who didn’t hear about this was Malleus Draconia. 

A pale sun rises in a background of gray skies, rays of sunlight piercing through fluffy gray clouds. Light footsteps crunches on leaves, leading to a towering figure admiring a decrepit column of gargoyles. 

“Malleus,” 

“Lilia,” 

Malleus spares a glance to the elder fae who greets him with a brief smile. 

“Is there something the matter?” 

“Glad you asked,” 

Lilia titters mischievously. 

“Headmaster Crowley announced that we’ll be having a masquerade event here in Night Raven College. He says that every student is welcome, including you, Malleus. I made sure to personally tell you about this, so you wouldn’t be carried away by your temper on the day of the masquerade.” 

Bitter resentment creeps up in Malleus’ chest, a sentiment he was too familiar with. Tendrils of magic coil about his fingertips, dangerous and relentless. Lilia watched, keeping a stern eye on the younger. Moments later, that magic vanished - Malleus’ internal turmoil quelled after a while of rumination. 

“Well, I thank you, Lilia, for the gesture. When will this masquerade be?” 

Emerald orbitals darken with intrigue. 

“By the end of this month!” 

Malleus returns his gaze over to the gargoyles, his demeanor more contemplative than vexed.  

“Have you thought of someone to bring in as your partner?” 

“I’ll think about it. Thank you, Lilia.” 

Before the elder fae makes his departure, he notes a presence nearby. Here, a mischievous snicker curls on his lips. Perhaps Malleus will ask [Reader] out for a dance. 

~ ~ ~ 

A few students approached Malleus regarding the dance, not on the pretense of dancing with him. They hoped to be on his good side by informing him, or at least, inviting him to such a prestigious event. He responds with grateful smiles, touched to have such kind classmates who thought of him. Yet, the only trouble he had in mind about this dance was finding someone to accompany him. Sure, he could go along with his guardsmen, but that wouldn’t do. 

Should I invite [Reader]?

To him, [Reader] was a close resemblance to a friend. He wouldn’t mind asking them out for this masquerade dance. 

What could be the best time to ask them out?

He ponders to himself. 

~ ~ ~ 

The day came quickly, twilight tinging the horizon of peachy hues and radiant orange. Malleus had yet formulated a proper question for [Reader], the words lost in the fog of his mind. However, a promise to walk together with them after classes did aid in mustering bits of courage for the big question. May the time come for me to ask them out, he muses to himself.

“Malleus, you looked a little preoccupied. Is there something wrong?” 

[Reader] had taken the fae’s silence as a sort of pent-up anger inside him, his eyes darkened from unfathomable emotion. They eye the fae in concern. 

“Nothing is the matter, [Reader]. Let’s proceed.” 

He quips lightly, any indication of his anger from before quickly vanishing with a pleasant smile by his lips. The two continue to walk down their usual route, one that winds around the perimeter of Ramshackle overlooking the campus. 

“Recently, a lot of people are excited about the masquerade. Have you asked anyone out yet, Malleus?” 

A question from [Reader] caught the fae off guard. Their silence was perhaps an indicative of a keen eye; they were perhaps observing his behavior ever since they started walking together. 

“No, I have not. On the contrary, I was going to ask a good friend if they’d be so willing to accompany me.” 

“Oh? You’re not going with Lilia, Sebek, and Silver?”

A frown creases the fae’s lips, irritation quite evident on his pale features. 

“No, going with my usual entourage would make this event too formal. I’d like to go with a friend.” 

His green eyes glint emerald as he gazes at [Reader], who in turn returns the gaze with curiosity. 

“Who would that be, then?” 

“Why, you.” 

“Me?” 

[Reader] echoes, astonishment evident in their expression.

“Yes, you. I wouldn’t ask anyone else.” 

Their expression turns more of a bashful one, a nervous smile curling by their lips. 

“I.. Yes, I would love to, Malleus!” 

“Good.” 

He underestimated the simplicity of asking - how foolish he was to be worrying in the first place. Is this how humans went about their affairs? 

“You’re smiling, Malleus.” 

[Reader] points out. 

“Indeed, I am.” 

Smiling he was, a job well done for a dance with [Reader]. 

~~ 

“Well then, how did it go?” 

Malleus returned to his dormitory with a curious Lilia. The elder appeared to be genuinely curious, floating around the dorm leader in a carefree manner. Was this a supposed “rite of passage” Lilia was always talking about, inviting someone else other than his own retainers for a social outing? Malleus disregarded the nagging sense of annoyance and answered, 

“It went well, Lilia. Thank you,” 

“Fufu, look at you being all grown up~ Well then, I’ve told the others about your little ‘date’ with [Reader] and they plan to work on a special suit for you in time of the masquerade! Can’t believe that little Malleus is growing up!” 

“Lilia, please don’t call me ‘little’. I’m not that young.” 

“You are, compared to this old bat! Fufu!” 

Malleus heaved a sigh, a strange sensation bubbling by his chest. This wasn’t the bitter resentment he had often felt whenever he wasn’t invited to events, but rather, a warm gratitude and relief. Yet, if he truly wanted to proceed with this masquerade alone, he had to ask on one thing. 

“Do you have any more questions, Malleus?” 

Lilia inquires the fae once more, glimpsing a flash of doubt across his feature. 

“May I ask for a favor, Lilia?” 

Magenta eyes twinkle in delight as a smile graces the elder’s lips. 

“Why, of course, Malleus. What can I do for you?” 

~ ~ ~ 

He dreamt of [Reader] dressed in creamy whites, decked in precious pearls and glittering diamonds, skirts billowing as they waltz together in a wide pavilion. Their silhouette, as he had envisioned it, glowed in pale white light emanating from a chandelier. He could make notes of their voice, giggling cordially as a quartet plays a romantic piece. 

If this were real or a dream, a part of him yearned to preserve this memory - dancing with a good friend, void of social status, regalia, and formalities. A memory worth cherishing. 

~ ~ ~ 

The day of the masquerade arrived with fanfare, students dressed in splendid suits and attire, their masks a dainty touch to their attires. Malleus arrived alone, his entrance parting a sea of students who immediately saw him. Amidst the grandeur of golds and oranges, he stood out in his onyx studded midnight suit, emeralds and jade glint by his cuffs and his hair slicked back for a deadly charm. His mask, a majestic portrayal of a dragon with scales, partially covering half his visage. The Prince of Darkness, a Masked Dragon, had arrived to the masquerade. Awed and confused whispers flit across the room, some of them eyeing the Diasomnia students mingling amid themselves. What happened to Malleus and his guardsmen? Should he be with them all times? From across the room, Lilia meets Malleus’ gaze, a wink signalling his message. Good luck, young one. 

Sebek and Silver, who remained by Lilia’s side, anxiously watched their Master from a distance.

“Do not intervene, you two.” 

Lilia whispers sternly to them. Sebek looked visibly distraught. 

~ ~ ~ 

“Malleus.” 

“[Reader].” 

A breathtaking dream was standing right in front of him. Snow-white satin skirts billowed down to their ankles, iridescent pearls and diamonds decorate a bodice of off-white hue, and earrings of quartz decorate their ears. [Reader]’s mask, a gentle swan indicative with feathers accented by the corners, complete the look. Beautiful wouldn’t properly describe the aesthetic [Reader] had worn that night. Malleus was indeed in a loss of words. 

“May I have this dance, my good Swan?” 

Graciously accepting his hand with a gloved one, [Reader] grins, softly uttering: 

“Yes, my Dragon Prince.” 

[coffee-in-veins]

Day 31: Graveyard

an entry for darkest prompts promptober 2022  

previous days: 1, 2, 3,  4, 5, 6,  7,  8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30

now available on ao3 too

Graveyard NOUN – a burial ground, especially one beside a church.

* * *

I see you when you chase All the dreams inside your head I see you when you laugh And when you love 'til the bitter end (I see you) In the dark, at the dawn of something new I see you Yes, I see you

-- I see You by Missio

There was an odd serenity in the rows of unkept poisoned dirt mounts spotted with warped wooden crosses with washed-out names. In the gentle swaying of the encroaching branches of leafless, always gnarled trees that surrounded the place as if they wanted to suffocate it. In the gentle, sandy-rustling creaking of the rusted gate that always needed far more strength to open than it looked. In the broken lines of crooked black iron fences that somehow managed to throw harsh shadows over the shallow graves regardless of the time of the day.

All those, combined, were a solemn reminder that tomorrow was always a hope and never a promise in the land of eternal looming doom.

Even more so, Dismas supposed, for someone who had just lost a trusty companion.

He had a splitting headache exhausted from tears, momentarily too tired for mourning. Where pain was supposed to pool, was merely a dull, numb void – as if there was a hole in his chest, and everything fell out through it. His lower lip was bitten through, and where he usually tasted whiskey, now only blood and bile remained.

“Hey there, ol’ friend,” the ex-brigand tried to start, but his throat got thick and he had to clear it a couple of times. Still, it sounded off and weak when he managed to speak again. “They didn’t e’en bother with a proper headstone for ya, huh?”

The graveyard was silent. The rows remained just as sloppy and barely kept, as usual.

“So much for years o’ faithful service, huh?” Dismas forced a crooked smirk, showing one of his sharp canines, but even that bile-filled expression couldn’t stay on his face for long. “I suppose this will wait for us all, huh? No stone, no frills, no fuss, n’ definitely no glory. No one e’en bothered t’ give ya proper place near the central road. Or the Abbey…”

Oh, those memories were a definite gut punch when they rushed in. The highwayman swallowed thickly and finally confessed:

“Ya made staying in the Abbey bearable, y’know? That bloody coffin of a transept was just… insufferable unless ye were there,” he paused again, rubbing his face tiredly, and continued, quieter. “But ye always were. Keeping me company. Keeping me sane amidst all the oppressive droning. Hell, keeping me warm in that stone sack during winters.”

It was incredibly hard to force out a choked:

“I’ll miss it.”

Because he definitely wasn’t supposed to miss anything related to the transept. Not being the honest cutthroat that he was, that is. Abbey was a different world, to him, a world unfitted for his ilk, a world too depressing and uninviting on its own.

Feeling his knees getting weak, Dis lowered himself to the poisoned ground, bundling into the ripped overcoat. Everything happened so suddenly, he still couldn’t force himself to mend all the new holes in Uncatchable’s matted fur and worn-out padded cloth. Somehow, only those holes made anything feel even relatively real. Else he would’ve kept thinking that it was all an elaborate fright somehow.

“You gave me courage,” he continued when the silence became even more unbearable than his own wavering voice. “In those blackest pits, when everything seemed lost, ya shone. Ye were my best ally. Helped me push past the struggles I thought I couldn’t…”

He felt small, lost and miserable as he habitually reached for booze, remembering in half-motion that it wasn’t there. And this last drop – or rather, the absence of it – finally broke him into ugly, drunken sobbing as he hugged his knees.

“I dunno how I’m gonna go on withoutcha…”

Behind his shoulder, high above, Dismas heard an exasperated sigh:

“For the last time, Dis,” Reynauld’s voice was filled with unending vexation. “I swore on the Light’s Grace that I’ll buy you a new flask. With guelder rose engravings. Can you calm down finally?”

“You killed her!” the ex-brigand wailed, inconsolable, fat drunken tears staining his pants. “Murdered her in the cold blood as if she was some bone rabble! My baby, my beloved, she who nourished me for o’er a decade, n’ they wouldn’t even get her a tombstone! As if she was just a stray, some lowly seeker…!”

The world was a cold, unfair place, and that was yet another proof of that.

“Oh, for the Light’s mercy! You made me give Commendation of the Dying to a flask, Dismas,” the crusader hissed, both aggravated and embarrassed. “His Holiness is still giving me weird looks every time I go to a sermon.”

“As he should, at a murderer!” the highwayman wept. “Oh, my sweet one… run through yer very throat… my the hand most uncaring, woe is me for calling such a man my closest, dearest friend n’ seeking consolation in his bosom!”

“Keep it quiet, will you?” the knight gave a quick glance around, but thankfully, no one wanted to be around the rowdy drunken rogue, so no one heard this heretical farce.

“How can ya demand m’silence afta’ taking away the last comfort that I had? Cruel, heartless man that I let into my--”

“Alright, I’ve had enough,” Reynauld grabbed him like a naughty kitten and stomped in a direction of the bathhouse with a stoic expression of a serial killer. “Firstly, we’re not getting burned at a stake for a flask. Secondly, you’re getting quiet. Now. And once you’re coherent, I’ll get you a new flask. I’ll even allow you to sleep on my lap while you sober up.”

Habitually, Dismas stopped struggling and just dangled in the arms that dragged him out of the blackest pits before. The deal was too good to pass even if his mind was barely operational.

“Promise?” he asked, trying to wipe the tears with already dirty gloves and most likely only making it worse.

“Oh, for the love of all that’s holy…”

Dismas was way too drunk and emotionally devastated, and that was probably the reason he blurted out:

“Not of me?”

Reynauld paused, then turned him around and took one long, hard look at his puffy, reddened, snot-covered face and let out a sigh so exhausted, that all of the holy martyrs would’ve most likely felt sorry for him as their most unfortunate kin.

And yet his voice was soft as he placed a small kiss on his highwayman’s brow.

“You are my little saint, silly.”

[ryqoshay]

Tri-Arame: Encore Delayed

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Rating: G Words: 551 Fandom: Love Live Nijigasaki Parent Fic: Tri-Arame Time Frame: Sometime early in college Event: Promptober 2022 Event Source: Idol Fanfic Heaven channel on Discord Prompt: Ninja

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Author’s Note: Primary entry for Oct 15th

Summary: The trio talk about a movie they just saw

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“Setsuna-chan, you’re…” Ayumu held up a tissue.

“T-thank you, Ayumu san…” Setsu practically blubbered before dabbing her eyes and wiping her nose.

“Setsuna-chan’s still moved by the romantic climax, eh?” Yuu smirked.

“It was just so good!” Setsuna insisted as the trio exited the theater. “When Neru-san made Yugure-san promise that she would outlive her. Even if just by a day. Or even an hour.” She sniffled again. “She just… She couldn’t bear the thought of being without her again…” She accepted another tissue from Ayumu.

“Yeah, that part actually confused me.” Yuu admitted.

“How do you mean, Yuu-chan?” Ayumu inquired.

“’Cause Yugure was a ninja, right?”

The other two girls nodded.

“And she was hired to protect Neru, right?”

More confirming nods.

“And presumably that means giving her life to save her charge if necessary. I mean that was kinda half of the movie, with Neru desperate to get Yugure back after having made such a sacrifice. And now she can’t do that again?”

“I don’t think Neru was telling Yugure to stop doing her job.” Ayumu said. “She was telling her to not be so reckless with her own life; her wellbeing is important too.”

“And while Yugure was gone, she wasn’t there to protect Neru.” Setsuna added. “So she doesn’t want that to happen again either.”

“Huh… I guess I didn’t think about it that way.” Yuu admitted. “Either of those ways. But I think I get it now. Thanks you two.” She grinned.

“Ooooo…” Setsuna stopped walking. “Just thinking about what a masterpiece it all was makes me want to see it again.”

Yuu chuckled. “Now?”

Setsuna looked like she desperately wanted to say yes, but instead just continued to vibrate excitedly.

Yuu glanced at Ayumu, then at her watch. “Well, the next showing is in few minutes.” She turned back toward the ticket counter.

“Wait! Yuu-san!” Setsuna called, louder than she needed to, given the short distance between them. “You mustn’t!”

“Eh?” Yuu paused.

“What if we inadvertently buy seats that could’ve gone to people who haven’t seen the movie yet? It’s only fair that we wait until the Blu-ray release!”

“I was only kidding, Setsuna-chan.” Yuu laughed. “I’m actually looking forward to getting back home for dinner soon.”

“We could come back tomorrow?” Ayumu suggested.

“No way!” Setsuna shook her head vigorously. “It’s still opening weekend. All who wish to see such a wonderful show should be allowed to do so as soon as possible.”

“Well then maybe in a couple weeks after the initial crowds have died down a bit?” Yuu offered.

“Perhaps a matinée during the week?” Ayumu added. “Those tend to be less crowded anyway. And Yuu-chan and I don’t have any tests coming up.” She anticipated a possible objection.

“And Setsuna-chan is still wa~y ahead of her own schedule.” Yuu teased, pointing out the online student’s habit of overstudying. “One afternoon off won’t hurt you.”

Ayumu could practically see the scales finally tip in Setsuna’s mind.

“Alright.” Setsuna agreed. “But we’ll need to check the seating charts online that day first, to make sure it really is not that busy.”

Yuu laughed again and the trio resumed their way home. As they walked, Ayumu made a mental note to check the Blu-ray release date for a possible gift to her girlfriend.

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Author’s Note Continued: A big thank you to @myonmukyuu for the help getting past a sticking point in this one. And for giving me one of Setsu’s best lines in the chapter, imho.

That said, I doubt I will ever tire of writing dorky Setsu geeking out about something she loves. Or of writing Yuu and Ayu happily indulging that love. Or teasing her about it, in Yuu’s case; affectionately, of course.

And on a final note, this was actually inspired by a chapter for my D&D story that has sat gathering digital dust for over a decade and has still not progressed past the outline. But the names of the girls in the movie are basically what my two OC’s names mean in English translated to Japanese; given names, not call signs. And someday I may very well write that scene... or just keep pillaging ideas from the thing for my LL fics...

[underworldobsessed]

Trying Something New ll Promptober Day 4

Title: Trying Something New Rating: T Ship: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze Characters: Satine Kryze, Obi-Wan Kenobi Trigger Warning(s): None Series: Promptober 2022 Summary: Flufftober Day 4: Supporting Silly Quirks/Hobbies ll Satine hates waking up early on her day off but she had promised Obi-Wan. He seemed to really want her to join him in his morning yoga. Maybe she would be willing to join him, maybe it would be worth it.

Author’s Note: Woot Day 4! Got some fluffy fluff before the whump continues. I hope you enjoy some cute modern Obitine!

Read on AO3

[zaronna]

The eighteenth birthday has, and will always be, the most significant birthday to a person. It is the day their power comes in, the day they find out what truly makes them special. Every person must report to the power building on their birthday, and today, it’s mine.

I stare up at the black marble pillars before me, apprehension filling me. My entire family has had nothing but elemental powers, my older brother with the coolest, in my opinion. Who wouldn’t want to be able to control fire, and the temperature at which it burns. He made me a small fireball I could hold!

“Don’t worry so much Lils!” My brother laughed as he ushered me towards the doors. I chuckle as I elbow him for the nickname he refuses to leave alone.

I shook slightly in front of the machine, staring at the red LED that supposedly determined what was lurking beneath my skin. The machine beeped with a flash of red light, and I felt something deep within me suddenly click into place. Gasping in confusion, I stared at the screen.

Lie Detection.

I was a human polygraph?! What? HOW?! No one in my family had mental powers, they are all elemental in nature!

I slowly walked out of the testing room, feeling like a zombie as my older brother hugged me with a smile on his face.

“So? What did you get? No no, wait! Let me guess… Water?” He asked excitedly, while steering me back towards his car. I numbingly shook my head, too shocked to actually speak. The entire ride my brother kept up the different guesses.

“Well… no matter what you got Lily, our parents will be proud”

L I E

I jerked in the seat, my head suddenly clear of everything but that deep feeling of unease. My brother was lying to me.

I walk inside behind my brother, and freeze in the doorway, staring at my parents who had stationed themselves near the shoe station.

“Well Lily? What did you get? Your mother bet earth, but I’m thinking more so lighting. Something to match your quick wit”

“Um… Do you promise you won’t get upset with what I have?”

“Of course dear” My father spoke, concern in his features.

L I E

“We wouldn’t care if you were powerless dear,” My mother spoke up.

L I E

“You are our daughter,” Father continued.

L I E

“And we’d love you no matter what” They finished together.

L I E

Day 8 of Promptober- False