#been putting my blood sweat and tears into this thing for the past 3 days for real. who cares if the graphic design is ultimately ugly

[oldbutchdaniel]

separation interlude, or, when you’re “not talking.” listen here.

[carlos-in-glasses]

Where All This Love Comes From

I'm so excited to share what has been known as Flashback Fic! 107k words, with all 14 chapters here on Ao3, rated E.

Six months after Gabriel Reyes’ death, TK grows concerned about Carlos’ drinking and brings him to a meeting at the Y. Afterwards, over omelets at the diner, the husbands open up to each other. TK reflects on meeting Carlos after years of addiction and self-destruction, while Carlos has continued to seek closure by uncovering two unknowns: The identity of his father’s killer, and how his father truly felt about Carlos as his son.

************************************************

Carlos puts his arms around him from behind and holds him still, kissing his neck. TK tries to twist in Carlos’ grip, but he won’t let him. He starts walking him towards the bedroom. “I’m desperate for you,” TK says, his blood hot, cheeks red, eyes pricking with tears. “I know.” “Make me forget everything.” “I will.” “I only want to think about you.” “You will.” Carlos stops for a breath. He smells TK – his clean hair, his evanesced cologne, his natural man scent, his salty tears that have imbued his skin, the sweat of stress. Sad, but still beautiful to Carlos. TK, delicious. “I never thought I’d have you. I never thought–” he can’t speak anymore.

***********************************************

Chapter 1: A Trail to Follow

In 2023, TK discovers something that triggers memories of heroin withdrawal seven years before – and Carlos makes amends with Gutiérrez after accusing him of his father’s murder.

Chapter 2: A Very Nice Sweater for the 'Y'

TK takes Carlos to the N.A. meeting – but when things don’t go as hoped, he instigates another method to get Carlos talking.  

Chapter 3: Snowballing

A messy situation in 2010 causes TK as a high school junior to lash out. In 2023, Carlos realizes it's time to tell TK about one more secret. 

Chapter 4: Original Sin

In 2013, Carlos accidentally destroys Gabriel’s oldest friendship. Nine years later, he attempts to make peace after he and TK get engaged.

Chapter 5: Between Two Bridges

In 2022, a grieving and struggling TK is compelled to talk to Owen about his 2020 overdose, which leads him to remember when his addiction nearly killed him years before. In 2023, TK asks Carlos about his history with alcohol. (Note: Chapter features TK using and gets fairly graphic)

Chapter 6: One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, Floor

TK and Carlos compare notes on when they first came out – with Carlos spiraling in 2011 after an unexpected outburst, while TK in 2008 is embraced (and embarrassed) by his parents. In 2021, both handle the raw days of their breakup differently too.

Chapter 7: A Boy's Best Friend

In 2009, Gabriel attempts to connect with his increasingly distant and unhappy teenage son. In 2013, the fallout of Carlos leaving Iris has begun, and he knows his relationship with his parents will never be the same. In 2023, TK tries to talk to Gabriel about the bombshell revelation that Carlos doesn’t want kids.

Chapter 8: Your Heart, As If It Was My Very Own

In 2011, TK is left bewildered after he loses his virginity. Years later, with Carlos, TK's mind (among other things) is blown in a whole new way. In 2022, TK has an important conversation with a certain visitor when he wakes from his coma.

Chapter 9: Coffee with Gutiérrez

In September 2023, Carlos seeks an important but painful truth from Gutiérrez, and finds an unexpected ally within the 126. Two months later in Blue Moon Diner, TK gets ready to tell Carlos more about his past in New York.

Chapter 10: The Day Begins Like Any Other

In 2016, after TK experiences an assault and sees an old friend again under devastating circumstances, he makes a life-altering decision when his dealer suggests he try something new. In 2009, TK is attacked at school. (Note: Please heed the tags and the chapter note. Reader discretion advised. Look after your hearts).

Chapter 11: Lonely as a Sparrow in the Rain

When Carlos confesses to TK about where he went with Judd back in September – and why – TK has to tell Carlos something he won't want to hear. In 2014, a rift develops when Carlos shows off his new Camaro to his parents.

Chapter 12: Happy For You, Son

Before moving to Austin, TK falls out with his parents over his relationship with Alex. In December 2020, it's a different story as Carlos hosts Owen and Gwyn for TK's birthday meal. In 2012, Carlos has some unexpected news for his own parents, but Michelle tries to intervene. When TK and Carlos get engaged a decade later, Gabriel has something to say about it.

Chapter 13: The Risk of Love

In May 2023, Owen and TK save a spiraling Carlos from making the biggest mistake of his life when he thinks he’s found his father’s killer. In 2020, TK and Carlos become boyfriends beneath a sky full of aurora borealis.

Chapter 14: A Night Worth Celebrating

On a rainy night in 2020, TK and Carlos meet for the first time. In 2023, weeks after their big talk at Blue Moon, TK celebrates his thirtieth birthday with his husband, their family and their friends by his side – and Carlos is a little bit better at sharing his secrets.

Read on A03

[shaybreezy-17]

More Than Friends (Zoro x Reader)

some more short lil one shot action of the worlds sexiest greatest swordsman 😉😋. enjoy! <3

(*TW: explicit/sexual language/content*)

It had been almost a month since the day you confessed your feelings to Zoro. Things went downhill between the two of you after that…

Since then, he had completely shut you out of his life, avoiding you any chance he got. He couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with you, besides during meals, and sometimes not even then.

You casually walked around the Sunny before deciding that Zoro was probably in the Crows Nest.

As you made your way up the ropes and the ladder, you felt your heartbeat speed up.

You slowly crept behind him, hoping you wouldn’t have to face him just yet.

He had his back turned to you, drenched in sweat, lifting a loaded barbell.

You mustered up the courage to speak once he put the barbell down, “H-hey, Zo?”

He flinched at the sound of your voice. “I was just finishing my workout. Gonna head out now.” He began to put the workout equipment away, never looking in your direction.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, but you fought hard to hold them back, biting your lip so hard you began to taste blood. Not again…

“Oh, okay.” You paused, “I was just, uh, hoping that we could talk about what I told you a couple wee-“

He cut you off, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “We don’t, there’s no need.”

You stood there. There really was no getting through to him…

You felt a lump form in your throat but you mustered up the courage to retaliate a sour response. “Alright well, I just thought I should let you know that I no longer like you so you don’t need to worry about that anymore.”

Without even uttering a reply, he walked right past you towards the exit. Tears began to fall down your face the minute your face was out of his sight, but you remained silent so he wouldn’t hear you cry.

He disappeared down the hatch, presumably down the ladder. Without turning around, or moving a muscle, you let yourself go.

You began to sob violently as no one would hear your pain and suffering up here in the Crows Nest anyway.

An array of things went through your mind. You felt so ridiculous for exaggerating like this, but it was how you felt. Weeks of bottling up the sadness of not being by Zoros side like you were as friends forced this reaction out of you and you couldn’t help it…

You wished you’d never tried to be more than that, just friends.

You buried your face in your hands, praying the visual of pure darkness would silence your thoughts.

As you tried to catch your breath, you felt a pair of calloused hands touch your bare shoulders. You were too afraid to turn around, shutting your eyes in fear. You felt so embarrassed that someone might’ve heard your little breakdown a moment ago…

A pair of muscular arms wrapped around your body, as you were being enveloped in a hug from behind.

“Do you really like me that much?” A voice spoke huskily. Not just any voice. You recognized it anywhere- Zoros.

You felt butterflies explode in your stomach for a moment before you remembered he’d been ignoring you for almost a month…

Wiggling out of his grasp, you turned around and shoved him with all your might. He didn’t move a muscle…

“What was that for?” He clutched his chest, pretending to be wounded. “Where’s this hostility coming from?”

You shoved him again. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?” And again. “Since you didn’t seem to hear me the first time, I said I don’t fucking like you anymore. Not after you pushed me away all month.”

He grabbed your wrists. “Oh come on! It was like two weeks.”

“Three to be exact!” You retorted, clear frustration in your tone.

“I was gonna say “who’s counting?” but clearly you were, stalker.” He smirked, still grasping your wrists.

You shook your arms, trying to break free, to no avail. “I’m not even stalking you, idiot! Now let me go, you’re hurting me.”

The smirk disappeared off his face and he immediately let you loose. He began to rub your wrists, muttering a quick “sorry”.

“Just leave me alone, okay?” You spoke softly, indicating your newfound defeat. “I didn’t need you to come back here out of pity when you heard me crying.”

His eyes met yours, a pained expression on his face. “Y/N… I’m just not good with this sort of stuff, feelings or whatever, but I didn’t come out of pity. I came back because I care, stupid.”

“Neither am I, Zo.” You replied, cupping his cheek. “I guess I just wanted to get better at it with you but you didn’t even give me a chance, dork.”

“Look, even if I did feel the same way about you and wanted to give this a shot, I’m lost…” His cheeks turned a light shade of pink at your touch and a sense of desperation filled his tone. “Tell me what I need to do, Y/N.”

The neediness in his voice was enough to push you over the edge. “For now just kiss me, you idiot.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and his arms instinctively found your waist, pulling you in for his lips to meet yours. He kissed you aggressively, showing your tongue no mercy. You didn’t know he could express this much passion for something other than sword fighting, unless the one going on in your mouth still counted.

Oblivious to you, Zoro had been actively avoiding you because when you admitted your feelings for him, you sparked something within him for you he didn’t know was there.

When you told him you liked him, he pondered on how much time the two of you had been spending lately. He couldn’t help but realize that he was happy whenever you were around whether it was the two of you sharing a drink or two, or the surge of confidence your presence gave him whenever you watched him workout because he couldn’t bare to let you watch him fail a set.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air. It had made you both absolutely feral. Staring into each others eyes, he picked you up and backed you up against the wall, letting you wrap your legs around his torso for extra support.

“You can call me a stalker again, but I might’ve dreamed of this moment once or twice…” You chuckled.

He grinned, thinking about how he dreamt and fantasized about you an ungodly amount of times throughout these three weeks. “Yeah, well, you were in a few of my nightmares. Tried to kill me every single time.”

“Oh shut up, dick.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “I knew you liked me the minute you let me get you in the bath.”

“I-Eh?” He glared at you in genuine confusion, “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“You despise baths but you’d take one with me whenever I asked,” You smirked and leaned in inches away from his face, “That’s when I knew I had ya.”

He leaned in even closer. Your lips were practically touching and the anticipation was sending waves of adrenaline through your body.

His gaze deepened, “Yeah? Well I knew I had you a moment ago, when you were sobbing over me.”

“Nothing you say can knock me off my high horse when I’m giving you a raging boner right now.” You sassed back.

His face went from pink to red as a tomato. “H-how the hell? I’m literally carrying you around my waist, there’s no way you felt that!”

“That kiss we just had.” You giggled, finally having the courage you needed to catch him off guard, “That and- just thought you’d wanna fuck me as bad as I want you to right now."

Without hesitation, he licked his lips as he began to fumble with his waistband, holding you up with his other hand.

“Wha-What are you doing?” You stuttered nervously, looking down at the hard penis that sprung out of his pants. “We really doing this?!”

Your stomach turned in knots at the nervousness, but you felt your pussy getting wet at the sight of it, nonetheless.

“You know me, I never miss out on a good challenge.” He began to lift up your dress, letting his arousal towards you overcome him, “Oi, got any panties under there?”

You shook your head ‘no’, silently thanking your past self for being delusional enough to ditch the undergarments on the off-chance that Zoro came to terms with his undying love for you and decided to fuck your brains out… which was actually about to happen now…

“Good.” He flashed you one last devilish grin as he aligned his thick cock directly below your already soaking pussy, slowly lowering you on to him, “They would’ve just got in my damn way.”

[hircines-hunter]

WIP Wednesday

Hi hi hi! 😊 have a preview of the thing I’ve been working on for the past 3 days. It’s now like 14k idk if I’m gonna post a long one shot or divide into chapters yet. But either way. It will be eventual Ralof/OC. But for now, it’s kind of in the air

Gonna tag : @umbracirrus @madamefluffnstuff @thequeenofthewinter @bostoniangirl21 @vivifriend

@rakaiawriter @oblivions-dawn

“Ci? Ciara?”

Who called her? It sounded like Ralof. Ciara groaned. She lurched forward. Her eyes fluttered open. Too bright. She went to shield her face, realizing her hands were bound. “Divines.” She mumbled.

“Thank the Divines. You’re finally awake, Ci.”

“Ralof?” She blinked. “What…? Where are we?” Ciara looked around. She saw the gate down the road. Helgen? She looked around the carriage. Her eyes widened when she saw Jarl Ulfric sitting next to her. Gagged, bruised, and bound. “Divines. Ralof….” She felt tears roll down her cheek.

“You're a civilian. And about to marry Hadvar. I’m sure you’ll be okay.” Ralof’s face darkened. He leaned over on his knees.

“This is…. The Empire can’t do this.” She whispered. She looked over when Ralof laughed. She bit her lip until she tasted blood.

“It’s amazing how easily that view can change. This is how they’ve always been, Ci.” Ralof looked at her. He hadn’t seen her in five years. How had she changed so much physically? “What were you doing out there?”

“Alchemy. Jazbay grapes. Canis root. Creep cluster.”

“You haven’t changed.” He smiled a bit.

Ciara looked at him. She looked over when she saw the gates open. She saw General Tullius.

“Damned Elves.” Ralof spat as he saw the Thalmor.

Ciara looked around Helgen, trying to find a familiar face. Would they even listen to her about being engaged to Hadvar?

The carriage came to a stop. She followed the Stormcloaks off the carriage. Her heart stopped when she heard a familiar voice. Her eyes instantly welled.

“Ralof of Riverwood.”

Hadvar held the list. Is there where he’d been stationed for the past month? More tears rolled down her face. Hadvar’s eyes widened when he saw her—dressed in rags. A bruise and dried blood on her temple. “Ciara? Captain, she’s not on the list!” Ciara took a few steps towards Hadvar.

“She goes to the block.” Ciara’s heart stopped. She stared at Hadvar and then the captain.

“Captain, that’s my…. She’s my fianc-” Hadvar stammered. His heart pounded in his ears. He felt sweat bead on his forehead.

The captain turned towards Hadvar. “Are you a traitor as well? If your woman is one, that makes you one as well. And I can add you to the list. Think about your next words.”

“She’s not a traitor. She’s a healer.” He tried to explain.

“She goes to the block. Don’t ask again. Or you’ll join her.”

Hadvar bit his lip. He briefly looked at Ciara and wrote her name on the list. “Ciara Finley of Riverwood. I’ll make sure your family gets your remains.”

Ciara stared in disbelief. Her jaw slackened. Her vision wavered. Her heart pounded with rage. With pain. She turned away and stood next to Ralof, leaning against him. “Fucking coward.” She clenched her jaw. She pulled on her magicka reserves—a fireball formed in her palm.

Ralof reached over and put his hands on her arm. “Save it. Wait.”

A roar pierced the skies.

Ciara looked up. As did everyone else.

“Next the Breton!”

Ciara didn’t move. She readied another fireball in her hands. She held her hands up at the soldier who approached her. She released the fireball. It exploded in the soldier’s face. He fell back, screaming and clutching his face. Ciara readied another fireball as another soldier charged at her. She ducked.

Another roar.

“What in Oblivion is that!”

A dark shadow blocked out the sun. A dragon landed on the tower. Half of the structure collapsed.

“Ci! The gods won’t give us another chance!” Ralof grabbed her arm and dragged her through the mayhem. They made it inside the keep. “Was that…?”

“A dragon.” She finished.

[zanarkandfayth]

Would love to read your answers to questions 3, 9, 13, 17, 18, 26, 29, 31, 32, 50, and, if there's another number (or several) you really wanna answer, please add those too ✨

thank you for the ask!! <33 I wrote you novels in return gjdskglj

3. In your opinion, what’s your best fic?

oooh this one is so hard because I love most of my fics for different reasons, even my older ones (at least the ones on ao3. we ignore the ones left behind on ffnet lmao). hhhh, of completed ones that are posted, imma have to say monsters honestly, because damn did I put some heart into that. but the one I'd probably consider absolute best is the still ongoing, not yet posted 600K+ beast of a fic I usually refer to as "nanofic" that I've been working on since 2019. it won't be everyone's cup of tea, but it just gets so deep into noct's trauma that I inflict on him and his slow recovery from it, more than I've done for any other fic, and I've poured so much blood sweat and tears into that thing, it's kinda everything to me.

9. Have you ever written for a fandom without watching/reading/playing the source material?

written, no. been tempted to in the past, but it was too much effort and I already had too many fics for my main fandoms. I have read fandom blind for both harry potter and supernatural in the past though, like lates 2000s into mid 2010s. both were kinda on accident. supernatural in particular is because it kept getting crossed over with MULTIPLE of my fandoms. psych, house md, and criminal minds. so I started reading non-crossover supernatural fics in self-defense gsdklgjdks

13. What’s the biggest change between your style when you started in fandom and today?

I mean… this is the first paragraph of one of my fics from my first fandom when I was fifteen. you tell me 😂

"Relena smiled as she sipped her tea and mentally reviewed the day's schedule. 8:00 am- peace talk to the world. 10:00 am- conference with Romefeller. 1:00 pm- try to convince Dorothy to become a pacifist because she was to stupid to understand that Dorothy loved war. Rest of the day- annoy the HELL out of Heero Yuy. Smiling happily again (PLEASE! Her smile is SO annoying), she stood up and was just about to take a step when …. suddenly a freak falling cow killed her!!! =^.^= The gundam boys all burst out of closets around the room and rejoiced."

the biggest change is probably that I actually write well now lmao. and don't character bash. and don't throw author's notes and emoticons in the middle of fics, and have learned to format better, and, and…

17. In your opinion, what’s your most overrated fic?

oh god. let me hide before I answer this. hands down, it's shadows growing. like let me be clear, it's not bad by any means. I'm still fond of it. but I did not have a clear plan when I started writing it, and I really feel like that shows. it was not meant to be a fix-it fic. it was not meant to be a longer fic. it was not meant to be much of anything, tbh. I saw the prompt on the kink meme and the prologue literally started writing itself in my head and I was like "nah idk what I'd do with that" and I scrolled past, but I couldn't focus on reading other prompts and so I went back and just started typing the fic in a reply to the prompt. honestly I figured I'd write whatever I could and then when I left it unfinished, no one would know because I was anon and I had like one fic posted on ao3 for ffxv at the time and I was used to being a complete fandom nobody. the fact that shadows growing got me even somewhat noticed was unexpected and I was not prepared gdjskgjdskl

it definitely affected the fic because once the readers started picking up it made me feel suuuuper stressed and I was so afraid to stray too far from canon because I thought people would hate that??? for some reason??? no there's logic there. I was just overwhelmed. and I do get why people love it, because the whump and the friendship between the boys is really good. but I cannot help but look at it and remember how out of my depth I felt at the time and wish that I had been brave enough to diverge more from canon and smart enough to come up with a better ending. I still suspect there were quite a few people who felt let down by the ending and that's fair honestly. anyways, yeah, it's a good fic and I'm fond of it and most of the attention and the recs it got were in the first couple years of the game being out and I don't begrudge it being my most popular fic, I just. have better ones now I feel like gjsdgjskgsj but maybe not ones as many people would want to read. which is fine with me tbh.

18. What’s your most underrated fic?

the gladio oneshot in my "fayth's daddy issues week" series! (I wrote all those fics so back to back that I can't remember the titles for any of them whoops.) I adore that fic and it got so little attention compared to most of the other fics in that week, or my fics overall tbh. the only one that got even less was the one about iris 🤣 but I don't care much for the iris one either, even though I think it has some stellar banter between the boys and cute/funny prompto/gladio moments. I really love the gladio one though, because it was fun to revisit gladio's pov in a fic and I got to develop a bit of backstory for him that's been evolving into headcanon and there's a good chunk of ignis and gladio friendship that was the precursor to all their friendship in monsters, plus I got to make gladio cry, so. I love it <3

26. What aspect of your writing do you most enjoy to see praised?

characterisation, for sure. it's the one thing I agonise over and actually worry about what readers might think at times, especially as I get further away from having played the game to keep it fresh in my mind. so anyone commenting that it feels right makes me roll around on my bed in glee. the other aspect I equally enjoy is people commenting on the emotions. like, that the ones I wrote the characters having feel real/deep, that it made the reader feel them too, etc. stuff like that. cos the emotions are literally why I write fic lol.

29. Does the division of your writing across fandoms line up with your reading? What’s the biggest discrepancy?

I am dumb and am struggling to understand what this question is asking, tbh. is it like, do I write for as many fandoms as I read, or something? because fuck no in that case, haha. the only fandoms I've done major writing for (more than one or two fics) are gundam wing, digimon adventure, final fantasy x, and final fantasy xv. and I've read for something like 100 fandoms, idk. at one point I had a list but I stopped keeping track eventually.

31. Who’s the one character you’ve just never managed to get perfectly right?

well… I didn't really understand the concept of characterisation for fanfic until a little before I started writing for ffx. so uh, it's kinda non-existent in my gdw and digimon fics. but once I actively started trying for it… honestly maybe just yuna from final fantsy x. I had some things featuring her meant to be longer fics that were set during the game (most of my posted stuff is set pre-canon, with no yuna in sight) but I never finished and/or posted them because I always felt shaky on yuna's characterisation. I don't think I've majorly struggled with anyone in ffxv to the point that I've felt too dissatisfied with characterisation to post. but at the same time I'm sure none of them are actually perfectly right xD but they FEEL more or less right to me, which is all I care about.

32. Who’s the one character who shines without you even trying?

noct. I mean. he's my blorbo for a reason xD my beloved, I relate to him so much and the rest of it I just project lololol. I make a point to not actually just write myself as noct, cos I personally ain't about that, but it feels very easy to write him without needing to think too deeply about his thoughts/feelings/reactions most of the time. they feel instinctual to me, even when it's something that would differ from my own thoughts/feelings/reactions if I was in a similar situation.

50. Has writing fanfic had a significant impact on your life? Would you say it’s entirely positive?

YES and the answer to this question is one of the reasons antis/purity culture upsets me so fucking much. it's a personal/sensitive answer though so skip if you don't want to read that xD but. reading rape/sexual abuse & aftermath fics as a teenager is what helped me to understand that, even though there was no outright rape happening, I was still being abused. seeing my favourite characters have the courage to tell someone about their abuse and get help is what encouraged me to tell one of my friends during an AIM conversation late one night when I was sixteen, and she convinced me to tell my therapist at my next appointment, who then told my mom, and yeah let's just say that was a very significant and eventually positive impact (it was a rocky road) on my life. if none of that had happened I genuinely think the CSA would have continued escalating into eventual rape. so thank FUCK for fanfic and I seethe with rage every time some shitfuck anti tries to claim there's no good to be found in such fics. plus in general it just helps with my mental health and I've made plenty of friends through fic over the years, even if they come and go I'm still grateful to have known them for that time, and writing fic is the one thing that gives life any meaning for me, etc. so yeah I'd say at least 99% positive.

and now, I will add a few to answer, because you said I could lmao

7. What’s the fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?

it is a toss-up between horizon road, an ffx fic featuring a toxic, fucked up relationship between tidus and auron that I still really love, or endless skies, a really self-indulgent digimon fic. they're both old at this point, horizon road I started in 2005, and endless skies was in 2016. horizon road suffers from me having no solid ideas for it beyond the three chapters I wrote, and endless skies is painfully fully outlined, but it was such a hard, research-intensive fic to write for a number of reasons, and now looking at it also just reminds me of an ex-friend who I feel very negative towards (because I talked to them a lot while plotting/writing and they even wrote some of the smut scenes for me, though I've since removed those) and even if I wasn't still deeply entrenched in ffxv, I don't think I could bring myself to ever work on it again :/ which sucks because I did adore it very much.

35. Have you ever written a ship into a fic without meaning to?

…okay, I think anyone who has read shadows growing and then has also read or even looked at my ignoct fics knows that the ignoct is very much present in shadows growing gjdskgjsk as much as I will swear up and down it's platonic, and people certainly can take it that way if they want, like. come on. it's there. at a point, it very much was intentional. BUT. it did start out accidental. the og prompt asked for either gen or OT4 and I don't ship OT4 so I was gonna do gen but noct and ignis kept blurring the lines when I started writing scenes with them gdsjkgdjkl aaaaand actually I didn't start monsters with the intention of it being ignoct either. (the ignoct bits in the first chapter I actually added in a rewrite of that chapter lmao.) nor the tiny little epilogue in heavy is the burden that nudges into hinting at ignoct territory. fuck, even the ignoct in my very first ffxv wasn't meant to be so overt as it was gjdsklgjks there's also tiny hints of it in some of my fayth's daddy issues week fics (not counting the one that's deliberately and stated to be ignoct).

…actually now that I'm writing this I'm realising very little of my ignoct has been deliberately planned at the start 😂 the sequel to shadows growing, grey skies, was planned, at least xD the promptio that shows up towards the end of the fic was an accident though gjsdkgljslk it just. happened??? I didn't even LIKE promptio when I started writing that fic. huh. maybe accidental shipping is just my thing in writing ffxv fics.

40. Do you feel like you put out enough content?

wanted to answer this one, because, I'm NOT talking in terms of other people here. I don't mean to sound dismissive or ungrateful, because I do appreciate the people who read my fics, it makes me happy, but like. it's not why I write OR post. I'm not "producing content" for people; if someone is unhappy with me for not posting more fics, that's their problem. but in terms of myself… yeah, I do wish I had more to post. not because I feel like I've got some kind of arbitrary quota to meet. like, quite frankly, I have over a million words of fic posted on ao3, and given that I have a single unposted fic that's over 600K alone, I'm positive I have at least 2mil total words written. it's just that I wish I could write more consistently/frequently? I feel like I never write as much as I want to, and I know a lot of it is because of my worsening health, so maybe that's why I just feel so frustrated and dissatisfied with my output, but man, sometimes I look at my number of posted works on ao3 and feel like it's such a low number for how long I've been writing ): both for ffxv specifically and for all my fics total. I know it's silly, but the feeling persists nonetheless.

thank you again for the ask!! I feel happy getting to answer questions and ramble about my fics :D and it was really fun to think about my answers and realise a thing or two haha.

[ugh-yoongi]

Congratulations on the milestone! Can I request for a rival teachers drabble with Seokjin? I live for his chaotic energy and I can’t think of a better author to bring it to life than you. Thank you!

ah, thank you so much for this request! my only chaptered fic for my old fandom was a teachers au, so it was really fun to get back into that old headspace.

sorry this (& the rest of the requests i still have in my inbox) took me so long. i hope you enjoy it anyway. <3

also, big shoutout to @effortandmore for helping me with my korean honorifics. they still might be wrong but i tried my best. :')

musical chairs

pairing: seokjin x reader (no pronouns used) genre: rival teachers au; crack/humor warnings: for once, absolutely nothing! just a general warning to activate your suspension of disbelief regarding how any of this works. i was neither a drama nor band kid in high school and i didn't want to ask my husband. unedited. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 1.3k

The first time everything went wrong, you’d chalked it up to an accident.

Kids are kids: stubborn and accident-prone on the best of days, but nearly impossible on their worst. That’s okay—you wouldn’t be a teacher if you didn’t have some degree of patience and desire to make the youth of the future the best possible versions of themselves. So you can excuse their bad moods, the kids who only take your class to get out of doing something worse, all the new slang that pops up once a week to make you feel like the oldest person alive. You can excuse their lack of attention, noses buried in their phones, texting this month’s crush. You can excuse the requests to perform “something cool for once.”

You can excuse a lot of things.

What you can’t excuse is good, old-fashioned sabotage.

Not that your kids would sabotage you. They wouldn’t. They might be hormone-addled teenagers who are stubborn at best and impossible at worst, but they aren’t cruel. They wouldn’t take what you’ve worked so hard at for the last few months and burn it all to the ground just for a laugh.

But you know who would.

Usually you’d stomp down the hallway and barge into his office and demand answers. Knock everything off his desk one by one like a mischievous cat. Come up with some kind of revenge, because you and Seokjin have prolonged this rivalry long past its expiration date because it had always been childish and harmless before. Dare you say it used to be fun. Clearly the rules have changed.

Now, there’s no time.

Now, there’s twenty minutes until opening night of the musical you’ve spilled sweat, blood, and tears working on since the beginning of the year, and all your sheet music has disappeared and been replaced with children’s nursery rhymes. Not even the same nursery rhyme, either: each booklet has something different.

Seokjin, of course, is nowhere to be found. His drama kids squeak in fear when you tear through the dressing rooms looking for him, stumbling over apologies and explanations that they haven’t seen him all evening, don’t know where he is. Kim Taehyung, second in command, has been in and out, but they haven’t seen much of him, either.

So you have two options: waste all your time looking for Seokjin, who will probably laugh and deny any and all responsibility and refuse to help you anyway, or finally put this feud to bed and prove once and for all why you’re the best band director this high school has ever seen.

“Listen up,” you say, barging into the room where all your kids have congregated. “This is usually the part where I’d give you all an inspirational speech, tell you that everything’s going to be fine and to take deep breaths.” You spare a glance around the room. Wide, panicked eyes stare back at you, and—yeah, you’re gonna need to give that speech after this. “And I will,” you amend, which does nothing to alleviate the fear, “but, uh. Something unfortunate has transpired.”

The room immediately descends into chaos. Through the chatter, you can make out bits and pieces—

Oh my god, do you think the musical’s canceled?

No, can’t be, I heard the auditorium burned down.

What? But we’re in it.

Oh, yeah.

—and you grab the first thing you can find and slap it against the wall. “No, the auditorium didn’t burn down.”

“But—”

“It’s something far worse.” You accidentally pause for dramatic effect. Suck in a deep breath, as though you’re about to deliver the most devastating eulogy known to man. (You might be, you think. Losing all your sheet music and depending on the dedication and preparation of dozens of high school band kids might truly be the death knell of all your hard work.) “All of our sheet music has gone missing.”

No one reacts, which… was not what you were expecting, to be honest.

Instead, all the kids stare back at you, fear having morphed into confusion. “We have our sheet music,” someone says, hidden behind a massive tuba.

“No, no, I collected it from you yesterday, remember? So none of you would forget it at home or lose it.”

“Kyungmin made us copies,” comes a voice from the second row. There’s some rustling in their bookbag, and then a clearly homemade booklet appears in the air, PRACTICE THIS OR ELSE written large and bold across the front.

You swear you hear a choir sing, and it’s not the one practicing in the next room. The skies part, the booklet backlit by holy, golden light, and it’s like an angel has descended from the heavens above to hand-deliver this precious gift.

You have never been more thankful for overachievers.

“Holy shit,” you swear. Cover it fruitlessly with a cough. The kids won’t let you live it down, but it’s a small price to pay for how severely they’ve just saved your ass. “Pretend I didn’t say that. You’re all the best kids in the entire world. No more homework or practicing for the rest of the year. I’ll bring in candy on Monday. Is it inspirational speech time?”

Tuba kid pipes up again. “What happened to our original sheet music?”

“I don’t know—”

“I heard Kim seongnim paid one of the drama kids five-thousand won to steal it all.”

You clear your throat. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to spec—”

“No way, Hyungseo would’ve told me.”

“No she wouldn’t, she told me she’s been mad at you ever since you refused to stream for that new girl group she likes.”

“I’m busy—”

“Well I heard,” Kyungmin interjects, and you damn near collapse to the floor. Your bright overachiever, participating in gossip? This is far worse than you thought. “Kim seongnim wanted this year’s musical to be the Spongebob musical and seonsaengnim wouldn’t allow it—”

“It wouldn’t have translated correctly—”

“Yeah, Hajoon really wanted to be Patrick. He was really upset seonsaengnim said no—”

“It would’ve lost all meaning! And stop gossiping!”

“You’re all wrong. Haewon said…”

It’s five minutes to showtime, and Kim Seokjin has two problems.

One, he has no idea what to do with two dozen booklets of sheet music. Namjoon would kill him for sending them through the shredder and wasting so much paper because he can’t let go of a feud, so they’re just sitting in an incriminating stack in the corner of his office.

Two, his pride has been irreparably damaged. He’s been outwitted and outplayed by your gaggle of band kids, and it’s sitting all wrong in his gut. He’s never been outwitted before. Especially not by a bunch of teenagers. Everything feels bad and queasy, like that time he ate questionable convenience store kimbap after you’d superglued his wallet to the ceiling and maintenance couldn’t get around to sawing a hole in the paneling until after lunch.

Oh well. Not much he can do about it now. It’s showtime, and he has to prove once again why he’s the best theater director this high school has ever seen.

Except—

The lights dim. The curtain opens. There stands his lead actor, who he knows has worked tirelessly over the course of the school year to make sure it’s his best performance yet, and he looks confident. Prepared. Competent. There’s a barely-there smile on his face that tells Seokjin he’s going to kill it and he couldn’t be more proud. He’s proud of all of his kids.

Seokjin has a third problem.

Because his lead actor opens his mouth to launch into the opening number and it all sounds wrong. Tinny and artificial. Someone switched all the mics to autotune, and Seokjin’s face goes fifty shades of red as he watches the entire orchestra swallow their laughter; watches Taehyung scrambling in the background to turn it off.

Touché, he thinks.

There’s always next year.

[hearteyedbunny]

The Ghost Of You

some angst for arty, finally <3 this is a vent piece because i love putting my guy into situations. also tw for self harm, nothing happens but it is briefly mentioned.

Artemis hadn't been able to sleep, another nightmare jolting him awake as a sheen of cold sweat covered his body. He was shaking slightly as he sat upright, his eyes wide with fear and his breath caught in his throat. 

He glanced a look over at his partner sleeping next to him. Danse looked so peaceful laying there in the dim light, his dark hair slightly messy and his handsome face relaxed against the pillows as he breathed softly. For a moment Artemis was envious, wishing so badly he could shake this feeling off and join him in his slumber. He knew better than that though, the universe was never so kind to him as to allow him a restful night.

He knew not to wake Danse, there would be no point. Artemis despised being seen this way, so pathetic and scared, buzzing with fear but hiding it behind hot, boiling anger as he always did. He couldn’t even recall what the dream had been about, but it always seemed to be the same thing anyways. Always in that vault, always in that pod, being frozen and helpless to save the people he cared about the most, watching them being taken away right in front of him.

Somehow he had managed to leave the room and close the door behind him without waking the other man, swiping the knife hidden under their bed as he left. His paranoia never seemed to lessen, despite the security they had built up around their makeshift home. The turrets did little to quell his racing thoughts, but a knife at the ready made him sure that matters would always be taken into his own hands.

The knife in his hand shook violently as he attempted to keep a grip on it, his trembling fingers fervently fighting against him. He stared himself down in the shoddy bathroom mirror, speckled with dust and grime but not enough to obscure the man looking back at him. He didn’t recognize himself, he hadn’t for a long time. He knew the scar that webbed its way from the top of his chin to right below his left eye, but the face around it seemed foreign. His eyes, once blue and bright with life now seemed dull and beaten down, the only spark left in them being that of pure rage. His hair had gotten long, longer than it had ever been in his life. It was down past his shoulders these days, wild and untamed, obscuring his face when he loosened it from its messy bun and allowed it to drape over his broad shoulders.

He glanced back at the knife in his hand. He thought about how the cool, sharp metal might feel biting into his skin. How the stinging, lingering pain might finally make him feel alive. How easy it would be to open himself up, to watch the rich, deep red blood prickle up and run along his arm, dripping onto the cold tiles of the bathroom floor and staining it with all his grief and all his regret.

He looked up at himself again. The dog tags around his neck glinted in the yellow-tinged light of the room and he thought of Danse. He felt guilty. He felt his eyes well up with tears, then watched them fall hot and thick down his cheeks. Why had he stayed with Artemis for all this time? Put up with his anger, his trauma, his restless nights and violent outbursts? Sometimes he thought of Danse as stupidly loyal, but even so he was relieved to have the man in his life at all. Without Danse, Artemis might as well be dead.

Even thinking of his partner, Artemis’ anger and grief still bubbled sour and oppressive in his chest. His free hand was grabbing a fistful of his own black hair, twisting it in his grip as he ungracefully worked the blade through it in choppy, aggressive motions. The pain as he pulled at his roots over and over deterred him little as he continued on, simply gritting his teeth as ebony locks littered the sink and fell to the floor beneath his feet.

His scalp stung from the continuous pull, but the pain left him satisfied after some time. He huffed through his nose, finally feeling like he could breathe again after his outburst. The aching anxiety that had nestled its way into his chest had subdued for now. He shut his eyes tightly as he gripped the edges of the sink, hanging his head and listening to the sounds of his own breathing. His shaking fingers finally lost the grip he had, the knife falling to the hard floor with a loud clang that echoed throughout the small room  and rang in his ears.

In the morning, Danse had awoken to find Artemis sitting in the garage, smoking a cigarette and drinking a cup of coffee, apparently watching the birds through the open garage door. He noticed right away of the damage that Artemis had done.

“Artemis?” Danse approached him slowly, kneeling beside his chair so that they were eye level. He could tell Artemis hadn't slept, “What…did you do to yourself?”

“I know, I know,” Artemis didn't turn to look at him, only sighing and taking another drag of his cigarette, “How bad does it look? I didn't bother looking in the mirror.”

“What happened?” The gentle concern in Danse’s voice made Artemis clench his jaw in guilt. He didn’t dare look at him, lest those big, caring eyes of his made Artemis fall apart completely.

“Nothing. I was mad.”

“You’re always mad,” Danse’s tone was slightly amused, the soft look on his face evident without even looking at him. He was stroking his fingers calmly against Artemis’ knee now.

“I was really mad,” Artemis took a long sip of his coffee, “Just had another nightmare last night. I’m fine, babe.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

Artemis simply shrugged at the question, taking another sip of coffee and apparently finishing it as he set it on the table next to him.

“Look at me.”

Danse’s voice was stern and commanding, but not unkind. Artemis obliged him, slowly turning his head as their eyes finally made contact, his cigarette held loosely between his unsmiling lips. Just like he predicted, Danse was giving him that concerned look, the one he always gave him when Artemis did something ‘detrimental to his health’, as Danse always put it.

“I understand if you don’t wish to talk about it, but don’t push me away, Artemis,” Danse squeezed Artemis’ knee gently, “Please. We’re partners, if something is bothering you, I want to offer you my support.”

Artemis couldn’t handle those big soft eyes looking at him like that, he just couldn’t. They always broke him down in the end.

“Alright, alright…” His free hand was stroking through Danse’s messy bedhead now, Danse happily leaning into his touch, “I’m sorry. Was just a bad night, but I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay,” Danse was rising back up to his feet now, leaning down to give the other man what was supposed to be a quick kiss, but Artemis’ fingers entwining into the back of his hair made sure their lips didn’t separate. 

He tasted like smoke, but Danse didn’t mind at all, more than happy to kiss Artemis for eternity if he was so blessed. They stayed that way for several long moments, their kisses deep and slow and unhurried as they cherished the feeling of each other.

Artemis was the one to finally part, their lips breaking away from each other with a quiet, wet noise. Danse was cupping Artemis’ face gently with his calloused hand. Artemis turned his head slightly to press his lips into Danse’s palm and place a soft kiss there.

“Would you like me to help you fix it later?” Danse was looking intently at Artemis’ hair now, running his fingers through the choppy mess. It was short now, almost as short as when they first met.

“Yeah,” Another drag from his cigarette, before he finally stubbed it out in the ashtray sitting next to his empty coffee mug, “Thanks, Danse.”

[malleleothreesome]

Update on my 12 Days of TWSTmas Prompt Request Event

Hey everyone! I'm gonna try to keep this short cause I feel like I talk too much and it makes my posts unreadable lol

TLDR: I will continue to fulfill your requests throughout the year.

The past 12 days, I have written over 20,000 words (12,000 of which got posted) across 4 different WIPs and 2 posted fics. I really wish I could have posted more, but I am a perfectionist, and I also put my blood, sweat, and tears into each and every thing I post. Even if you sent me only 3 words for your request, chances are, thats gonna be 4k words from me. If you sent me a sentence with some backstory, thats probably another 4k words from me. That's just the type of writer I am—so I'm not efficient at pumping things out quickly, but I hope the quality of my work makes up for that fact! Hopefully, I can get these 4 WIPs out for you guys this January, but I need to keep putting hours into them to get to a place where I'm happy with the story. I'm doing my best!

I have A LOT of requests in my inbox. A lot of amazing, well thought out, exciting requests that I want to keep working on. I want everyone who sent me a request ask to know how much it means to me that you are interested in my work and took the time to send me your ideas.

My number one goal of this year is to keep writing. Writing fics the past few months has been the most fulfilling thing I've done in my 20s (and I'm 27 lmfao) so pretty much when I'm not in my 9 to 5, I want to be writing.

I still can't guarantee if I will get to your request (or when, considering how many hours I put in to each request) but I can promise that if I do get to your request, I will give it my all to bring your vision to life and create a story that was hopefully worth waiting for!

My ask box will always remain open for your ideas (related to or unrelated to the prompts I posted, I'll welcome anything!) as long as you understand I may not be able to fulfill your request. Most of the time, I can only work on things I'm really passionate about. So if you happen to send me something that really sparks my interest, I could very well get it out to you within a week hahaha, but it all depends.

[ravs6709]

Ignorance (It's Bliss, Isn't It)- JHW & KDJ

Word count: 0.7k words

Or read on ao3 here!

wanted to write a bit about 49!kdj but from someone else's perspective and just thinking about jhw (love of my life <3) took me out so here i am. this little fic has been rotating in my head for too long but now that im done exams i immediately threw myself into this

enjoy!!!

warnings: nothing much i think, but typical orv warnings ig

•~•~•~•~•~•

It didn’t take long for Jung Heewon to figure out that there was slightly off with Kim Dokja. There had been no defining moment, nothing that had made her brain go hah! That’s an imposter! because she honestly didn’t even know what was off with him. But small details added up: a sudden tolerance for tomatoes, the slight increase in affection towards his companions—not blatant, but less calculated, less reserved—and he was also a little quieter.

It was hard to say that any of those things on their own inherently meant anything. He could’ve just grown used to tomatoes. She didn’t know the extent of his dislike, maybe he didn’t like the way that they were cooked in the past. He was quieter than usual, but she knew that he wasn’t good at making conversation in the first place. Kim Dokja was a man of false bravado, constantly keeping up a front of appearing confident because he had known the future and had been scheming his way to this epilogue that they had painstakingly created. Jung Heewon didn’t know much about that Ways of Survival novel he had read, she wasn’t even the biggest fan of books, but even she could tell how much it had meant to him. That novel probably made up a lot of who he was, so wasn’t it expected for him to be lost when not only had the events changed, but their life had surpassed that novel now?

And as for the slight increase in affection… wasn’t that a good thing? Hadn’t she and all her companions worked so hard, hadn’t they all carved out their hearts from their chests with their swords, grasping their hearts with trembling hands as they smeared it across the invisible wall that separated him and them? Blood, sweat and tears, they kept smearing it, hoping that one day he’d look and see just how much they loved him? Wasn’t this what they were working towards? Getting him to accept it, getting him to stay? Getting him to stay long enough that he could take the kids out on outings to wherever they wanted to, to live out the lives that had been stolen away from them all?

Then why? Why did all of these things leave her so tense, why did they leave her feeling like she had left something so precious behind? That she’d forgotten something?

He was acting off, but he wasn't acting like a completely different person either. It wasn't some imposter impersonating Kim Dokja, because Jung Heewon had been a witness to the various conversations he had with the other companions. He remembered what he had promised Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung, he remembered being teased for being an "ugly squid", and still called Yoo Joonghyuk a "sunfish bastard" (whatever that meant). He remembered all these things. This was definitely, undeniably, Kim Dokja.

So wasn't that enough? Wasn't it enough that he was the same person that she knew? The Kim Dokja obsessed with Ways of Survival, the Kim Dokja reading that story, she had never known him. Was it even possible to miss a person whom you had never known? Was it possible to love them?

It was easier to ignore all those minor details, it was easier to put it all aside because this was her Kim Dokja.

(That can't be right. There was some amount of ignorance she was putting into this. And ignorance had never been a good thing, ignorance had caused so many problems, not by starting it, but had allowed the problem to fester, growing into something uncontrollable. And she'd always hated that; ignorance would never allow for justice, so how could it ever be a good thing?)

Jung Heewon hated this. She hated feeling like this, hated when Kim Dokja kept doing things to make her feel like this. Hated feeling like she couldn’t do the one thing she wanted most—to save Kim Dokja, even though he was right here. Hated this one-step-forward-two-steps-back cycle she seemed to be trapped in.

This epilogue was enough. The Kim Dokja she had with her was enough.

If it wasn’t—

It had to be.

•~•~•~•~•~•

orv taglist: @subrosasteath

want to be added/removed from the taglist? just let me know!

[swift-creates]

@ailesswhumptober Day 2: Overworked / Insomnia / Exhaustion

Day 15: Experimentation / Muzzle / Transformation

category: Gen

fandom: Star Wars

characters and relationships: Cassian Andor and Strike (OC) - platonic, Nala Se and Lama Su in the background

warnings: experimentation, animalistic transformation, non-consensual body modification, Kaminoans being shitty, blood and gore, self-harm but it’s not really intentional (more of a distraction; think digging your hands into your palms to divert your attention from pain but. a little more extreme), Cassian and Strike being the softest most traumatised kids ever

notes: WHUMP. this is part of my Unnatural AU, so it likely won't be on AO3 until i finish the rest of this chapter and the previous one. the Unnatural AU is very much inspired by the Unnaturals book series by Devon Hughes but also a little bit of the Maze Runner: the Fever Code by James Dashner so yeah it's kids in Situations with shitty scientist adults

(Context is Strike has been having chest pains and difficulty breathing for the past 3 days)

more things about Strike on AO3

Something was off about today. After Strike’s daily scans, the guards had marched her into a laboratory smelling of sterile instruments and something she couldn’t place, rather than returning her to her room. Her chest tightened with dread when she saw Nala Se standing by a control panel beside Lama Su; she’d long learned that both of them being present at any given time could not mean anything good.

The guards led her into the center of the room, where a huge glass cylinder bordered with metal struts sat ominously, a door ajar on the near side of it. Panic started to slick her palms with sweat, and her compliant steps faltered. “W-What are you doing?” The question had just slipped out, and she hadn’t exactly said it softly, but everyone in the room acted like they were pretending not to hear. Stopping in front of the open door, the guards started to push her inside, so she dug her heels in and struggled against their steel grips. “No, what- What’s going on? Let go-” Her efforts ultimately proved fruitless, and they shoved her into the chamber before stepping back and pushing the door closed. It shut with a hiss, her scrabbling hands finding no purchase on the smooth glass.

Lama Su and the scientists watched silently as she threw herself against the walls, punching and kicking everywhere she could. “Let me out!” Nala Se turned to look at Lama Su, who nodded slowly, and the former stepped towards the console. Strike could only hear the muffled clicking sounds of the switches and buttons being put into use before a hissing sound started, and white gas began to pour from holes in the metal she hadn’t noticed were there. What the kriff… Strike stared at the Kaminoans as Lama Su smiled a thin, oily smile.

“Proceed, Nala Se.”

The scientist dipped her head acquiescently, then paused, hand hovering over a large blue button. Strike tried her best not to breathe in the gas, desperately probing at the glass panels to see if one would magically come loose. Then Nala Se pushed the button, and the world erupted into agony.

The tight feeling in her chest spiked, making her fall to the cold floor of the tank and curl her hands into her shirt in pain. A scream tore from her throat as it turned into a sharp ache jabbing out from inside her back. She clawed at her shoulders — a useless effort, though whether to relieve it or to possibly just distract from it, she didn’t know — and thrashed against metal and glass alike, gasping for breath as the building pressure threatened to suffocate her. Make it stop make it stop make it stop make it STOP-

The squeezing feeling abruptly stopped, replaced by an excruciating tearing that pulled another ragged cry from her sore throat, and she went limp. The glass walls that had been clear and pristine earlier were now smeared with blood and fragments of gore, she saw through slitted eyes.

She wanted to sob in relief when the door clicked open again and the guards gathered her up and onto a rolling gurney, carting her back to her room. Her limbs were weighted down with exhaustion, and she didn’t think she could have even moved an arm, much less broken free and run down the hall, if she’d wanted to. They set her down onto her bed with their usual cold detachment, not reacting with so much as a frown as she let out a choked whimper.

She didn’t move after they left, even as something foreign and heavy flopped over her side, only squeezing her eyes shut in pain. She didn’t know how long she stayed there. It could have been hours before she heard the metallic tapping of Cassian’s signal in the vent; it was all the strength she could use to raise her hand and tap back. 

He came crawling through the duct probably a few minutes later, removing the grate over the entrance before his eyes widened at the state she was in, and he scrambled out of the vent to hover over her concernedly. He didn’t ask what had happened, just lay down to gently curl up alongside her. Wincing as his hand carefully moved the foreign object from on top of her to spread out over the rest of the bed, she realised it was a wing, feathered like a bird’s, but attached to her, downy (colour) plumage streaked red with blood. They both stared at it for a moment, before tears she didn’t even know had been there started to roll down her cheeks, and she found words pouring out in a chaotic cascade of an explanation until she just sobbed into his shoulder at the wrongness, the unfairness, the violation of it all. He held her all through it, gently offering soft words and touches of comfort.

“It hurts, Cass. I can’t move. I can’t breathe,” she whispered. His expression crumpled, and his eyes shone with unshed tears, like her pain was his own.

“I’ll stay right here. I promise.” Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled the white blanket over her and tucked her in carefully, avoiding her sore new wings, and was true to his word, staying put until she fell asleep.

[summerwritesfics]

⛓️In The Flick Of A Feather, He Flies To Your Side

Pairing: Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Liang  Length: 1769 Words  Rating: Explicit 🔞  Warnings: Wing Kink, Shibari, Kinbaku, Fire Play, Canon Divergence, Winged AU, Anal Sex, Praise Kink, Coming Untouched, Dom/Sub, Suspension, Rope Bondage, Pet Names, Loss of Control (Only slightly tho) Kinktober Day 1: Wing Kink + Shibari + Fire Play

Kinktober Masterlist

Notes: Holy shit, here we fuckin’ go! Welcome to Kinktober 2022, aka: Kuai get’s dicked for 31 day’s straight. I started writing for this all the way back in July, so the 31 fics you’ll be seeing over this month are like 3 months in the making. TT_TT I haven’t actually finished writing them all yet I have 7 left to finish but I’m hoping I’ll get them done in time! This is without a doubt the biggest fic project I’ve ever worked on, I’ve put a lot of blood, sweat and tears into this, so I hope it’ll be worth it :) We start off with one where even with the fire play is actually kinda soft. Title comes from “Mr Magpie” by The Electric Swing Circus.

Also this is my first time on this blog using the new content warnings thing! ^^;; Hopefully this will mean I have to block a lot less minors than I have had to in the past. I am prepared for this to mean my 18+ works won’t show up for everyone in the tags.

Kuai Liang had some of the most stunning wings Hanzo had ever seen.

He often found he could not take his eyes off them. They were just so fucking pretty. Beautiful shades of blue that got lighter the further down the wings they were, until eventually the tips of them were snow white. In the light, it was like they were iridescent, in certain angles he could see purples and greens.

Hanzo’s own wings, by comparison, were lacklustre.

Once upon a time, before his death and rebirth, his wings had been yellow with orange hints. Still not as beautiful as Kuai’s, but nice enough to look at. As a wraith, his wings had become nothing but fire, like he was some sort of fucked up phoenix. When he was revived fully, he found his wings had become ash grey and black, like his rage had burnt and damaged them.

He hated that he was jealous that Kuai had managed to keep the beauty of his wings.

Then again, if Kuai hadn’t, Hanzo wouldn’t get to see the beautiful image in front of him right now.

Kuai Liang was naked and bound tightly in red ropes. The intricate designs crisscrossing into knots, forcing him to bend forward slightly, his hands tied above his head and his calfs tied to his thighs, leaving him dangling helplessly in the air. But the cherry on top of this already wonderful cake, was the red ropes tied to Kuai’s wings, pulling them apart and keeping them nice and spread, so Hanzo could just stand and admire them without any movement or flapping.

Hanzo reached a hand forward, just letting his fingers brush against the blue. The wings trembled, but if it was from being touched or the strain of being pulled apart, Hanzo wasn’t sure. He let himself pet a little harder, loving how soft they were. Kuai moaned, and Hanzo chuckled at how needy he sounded.

“Do you like having your wings touched?” Hanzo asked, moving his hands to the top of Kuai’s wings, and tracing along the bones and earning another needy groan. “Let’s see.” One hand went back to where it had begun so to repeat the motion, while the other reached down between Kuai’s legs. He found Kuai’s cock, already getting hard from something so simple. “Hm, getting hard from someone petting your wings? You really are shameless, aren’t you, Sub Zero?”

Kuai didn’t reply, even as Hanzo released him. He put his hands on Kuai’s hips, before leaning forward to kiss between his shoulder blades. Flames began to take alight in his hands, gently licking at Kuai’s skin, not enough to harm, but enough to leave nice red imprints of his hands. No matter what, he needed to keep the fire away from Kuai’s wings. He couldn’t risk burning them.

“Pretty boy,” Hanzo whispered, letting go and watching the fire turn to just smoke. “Such a pretty bird.” Hanzo trailed his hands along Kuai’s spine, before allowing himself to feel those feathers again. Kuai made another whine. “A pretty boy who likes being told how pretty he is.”

It was amazing that Kuai always seemed unused to being told how beautiful he was. How the hell the world had resisted that face and those wings, he would never know.

“My pretty bird,” He asserted as he continued to caress those wings. “Mine and only mine.” He looped his arms around to Kuai’s front, taking a handful of both of Kuai’s pecs. The summoned fire licked Kuai’s skin again, earning a sizzle from the extreme difference in temperature. “I need everyone to know this bird is mine.”

“Yours,” Kuai quietly agreed, his hands clenching as he tried to twist in his bonds. “Always yours.”

“Good boy,” Hanzo praised, letting go, knowing there would be those wonderful marks left there when he inspected them later. “I think my pretty bird deserves a reward.”

Hanzo brought his hands down to Kuai’s ass, digging his fingers into the flesh. Aside from Kuai’s wings, this was definitely his favourite part of Kuai’s body. There was just so much to hold onto, to kneed and play with. He pushed apart the cheeks, staring almost hungrily at Kuai’s hole, already nice and wet, prepared for him in advance.

Hanzo pushed his cock against it, slowly advancing and feeling a rush from both how tight it was and the way Kuai’s back arched with it. He found himself bottoming out fairly quickly.

“Hanzo,” Kuai breathed out, trying to flap his wings but the ropes stopping him.

“Just a little longer,” Hanzo promised, “and then you can stretch your wings.” He bent forward to kiss the body parts in question, the action causing Kuai to gasp. “I would never want to ground my pretty bird.”

His hands once more gripped Kuai’s hips tightly, before he gently pulled out until only the tip of his dick was inside, and then tenderly pushing back in. Kuai groaned, unable to move like he wanted to, he had to clench and unclench his fist instead. Hanzo continued to move, slow and steady, letting Kuai feel every inch of his cock inside him.

He let go of Kuai’s hips, moving instead to the base of his wings, where they connected with his back. He rubbed circles at the sensitive area, causing Kuai to make a songlike whine. He kept his thrusts slow, drawing it out as he made sure to play with Kuai’s wings like they were his cock.

“Hanzo please,” Kuai begged, and Hanzo could feel him tighten around his cock. “N-Not fair.”

“You should know by now I don’t play fair in the bedroom.” Fairness and honour was reserved for the battlefield. Here in the privacy of his room, he could fight as dirty as he wanted to. His cock pushed against Kuai’s prostate, causing the man to shake again. “You revealed your weakness, do you really expect me not to use it to my advantage?”

“You’re mean,” Kuai said quietly, and Hanzo laughed. Even though he couldn’t see Kuai’s face, in his mind the image of Kuai’s pout was crystal clear.

“You think so?” Hanzo hummed, pushing his thumb against the skin around Kuai’s wings. “Then why don’t I show you how mean I can be?” He said with a rumble in his voice. Kuai turned to look over his shoulder. “You are going to cum for me, without me touching your cock. Let’s see how long it takes you to finish just from me fucking your ass and caressing your wings.”

The way Kuai’s eyes widened almost had Hanzo laughing again. It was so cute. Before Kuai could say anything in protest, Hanzo was thrusting his hips again, rocking into a brutal pace. Kuai yelped but did nothing to stop it. Despite how rough he was being, he kept his touch on Kuai’s wings light, teasing and soft. He could tell the mixed signals were working, Kuai bowing his head and gripping onto the rope holding his hands up.

Hanzo could feel his hellfire ignite, but not in his hands, thankfully no where near Kuai’s pristine wings. Instead he could feel his own wings begin to light up, like they had done when he was a hellspawn.

Kuai tightened around him and made a loud cry, Hanzo had been in this position enough times to know the telltale signs of Kuai’s orgasm. Hanzo let go of the wings, returning his hands to Kuai’s hips. He used his new grip to swing Kuai’s body in time to meet his thrusts. He could hear the flames that consumed his wings crackle, fueled by the energy he felt in that moment.

“H-Hanzo,” Kuai called out, as he once more clamped down around Hanzo’s cock.

“Cumming twice in as many minutes,” Hanzo growled, feeling proud that he could bring the other man to the peak like this. “A new record.”

Hanzo pushed himself in as far as he could, feeling the flames completely engulf him as he came. It was like the world blacked out for an entire minute, and then the next thing he knew he was pulling out of Kuai, watching as his cum slowly dripped out of his slightly gaping hole. The room smelt of cinders, but thankfully, Kuai didn’t appear to have been hurt in his momentary lapse of control.

He didn’t wait to contemplate what happened, instead reaching to undo the ropes and release Kuai. The other man stumbled to the floor, but Hanzo caught him before he could fall. He turned Kuai to face him, watching as he flapped his wings.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” Hanzo asked, just because Kuai didn’t look hurt physically, it didn’t mean that was the case.

“I’m fine,” Kuai assured him, reaching to touch Hanzo’s cheek. “That was intense.”

“It was,” Hanzo agreed, placing his hand atop Kuai’s to keep it there for a while. “Do you need anything?”

Kuai’s eyes closed as he purred, “call me a pretty bird again?”

“My pretty bird,” Hanzo said as he lent in to kiss Kuai’s forehead, before reaching to lift Kuai up into his arms. He needed to get Kuai cleaned up, and like this he could admire the burn marks on Kuai’s chest. “The prettiest bird I know.” Kuai giggled and nuzzled into Hanzo’s neck. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Hm, and here was me thinking having your cum leaking out of me just made me prettier,” Kuai teased as Hanzo set off in the direction of the bathroom.

“Oh, well that is a given.” As he entered the bathroom he used his foot to close the door behind him. “Although not as pretty as when you have my cum on your face.”

“Naturally,” Kuai said with a sly smile. Kuai’s eyes drifted to Hanzo’s back. “So... What happened with your wings?”

”I’m not sure,” Hanzo admitted. “Maybe they aren’t as dead as I thought they were.”

Kuai gave a thoughtful hum, reaching a hand back to brush his fingers against Hanzo’s feathers.

“Well, I love your wings, no matter what form they take,” Kuai admitted, almost in a dreamy sigh.

Hanzo paused at that, before asking “you do?”

”Of course.” Kuai rested his head against Hanzo’s shoulder. “They’re beautiful, in the black I often see a flash of yellow and orange. And they’re strong.” Kuai lifted an eyebrow. “And large.”

”You size queen,” Hanzo huffed causing Kuai to giggle as Hanzo set him down.

But the way Kuai looked at his wings. It was the same way Hanzo looked at Kuai’s. Maybe they weren’t as lacklustre as he believed.

[rosettes-room]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ 4 Goals for 2024 ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The cookies have been eaten, the tree boxed up, and all presents unwrapped. The week between Christmas and New Years feels like a holiday all on its own.

A time to reflect on the past and look ahead to what we want in the future! Here are a few of my goals I wanted to share!

1. Build an art community

I miss a lot of things that used to make the internet so fun. I miss connecting with other artists. Doing art memes on Deviantart and sharing stories and OCs. I miss making friends and social media just isn’t filling that void for me. So I am making it myself. Ko‑fi is a start. I’ll be posting things there a few days before my other platforms, but eventually I think a discord server or even my own website would be nice.

2. Draw 10 mins a day

Like any skill, drawing takes practice to become better and I have not practiced in a long time. I'm rusty, I'm slow, and I struggle a lot more with just general things like posing, anatomy, etc. I also want to explore different mediums and develop my style a bit more. I figure if I can set aside just 10 mins to work on a little doodle and give those creative muscles a nice workout I can only get better!

3. Embrace the ugly phase

We have all felt the dread of finishing a piece you put blood, sweat, and tears into… only to look at your work and think “wow, I hate it”. It’s frustrating and a big part of being turned off from creating. What's the point of making something if the artist themselves hates it? Well that’s just part of the process. I’m being gentle with myself and embracing making ugly things on the path to finding out what I like and what makes a ‘good’ thing. Besides everyone loves a good training montage ~ w o this also leads into my last goal…

4. Finished is better than perfect

"Perfection is the enemy of progress" waiting until I become skilled enough/good enough to make the things I want only means I will never become skilled enough to make anything. I have a condition called "way too many ideas to keep only in my head" and the only treatment for it is to actually put pen to paper. I realize I would be way more disappointed in myself for never trying than if I made something and it wasn’t exactly how I envisioned it. You're allowed to make mistakes, you're allowed to be messy and you are allowed to try again. Just remember billion dollar companies reboot the same 3 stories over and over again. <_< I can work on a passion project I’ve dreamed of my whole life and work on it again and again until it’s just right ♡

So 4 goals for 2024! I hope you all have an amazing year full of love and light. I hope this year is warm and gentle to you, and I wish you all the best of luck in achieving your new year goals if you have any! ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

[spiritualpour]

There will always be someone who will try you. 

Try to put you down, where they believe your place ”should” be. 

Try to sour the taste of your name flowing off other people’s tongue.

Try to undercut your abilities, your triumphs and your accomplishments through out your life by squashing it with some false truths. 

Try to sell you up river for 30 pieces of silver and pretend they are high in cotton for a soul they never owned or had rights to in the first place. 

Try to show your faults but forget how they made you human & actually fortified you to receive the call in the first place. 

It is bc they legit cannot perceive favor. 

Favor comes to the worthy. 

The worthy have proven literally through blood, sweat and tears that they are worthy of God’s favor. 

They’ve gone through the brimstone fighting from hell and back against all the enemies thrown at them due to jealousy from small minds, envy from blocked Vision and straight up trifling folks who are pissed bc they failed at their directives. 

They’ve gone through the 7th level of hell, fought the essence of the Devil & came back on fire to light the world as prophesied. 

They’ve known death very well as they are constantly bowing to death before shedding the people, places & things that no longer serve them throughout their lives in order to break cycles. 

That, beloveds, is called divinely chosen. 

These who are the worthy wear what is called “the breastplate of God”. It signifies they have been ordained and sanctified by God himself to walk the path they walk. No matter what is, has or will be done to them, they will always fight another day bc God has favored them. 

That’s why they are favored. 

You can identify these people by the crosses they carry such as:

•lone wolf

•burden barrier

•kind despite the opposition 

•compassionate despite the lack of support 

•virtuous bc their eyes remain on God. 

•generous bc they know what it is to be without 

•truth giving bc they have been lied about, lied on and manipulated by every soul they come across, yet they still remain loving bc they are filled with God’s anointing love. 

•survived the worst of the world as it has rose up in the road to greet them with.

•they have sinned with the best of them, learned the lessons, broke the cycles and came forward to answer the Call God has given over their life. 

That is why they remain with God’s favor. 

It’s not because they just lucky or they were just given divine favor bc it’s them. It is bc they have proven they are worthy by the trials and tribulations they bear. 

People get surprised about this but yet, if they would have read the book given to them at indoctrination, The Bible is clear that everyone, saved or lost, will go through trials and tribulations.

 “All who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted” (2 Tim 3:12) so “do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you.  But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed.  If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you” (1 Pet 4:12-14).  

Yesterday, I posted the word on people doing shit to others then get upset when God favors the fallen who have been struck down bc of their favor. 

That joker is in there too.

 “Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you” (Matt 5:0-12). 

See? I ain’t playing picture pages over here. It’s in the word. 

As I said: God is in the details coming in clutch with divine favor. 

These people can try to knock you to whatever peg they believe you should thrive at, reveal your nudes, claim your sultry, naughty past, or even post pics of the nights you decided to get dirty and shoot the moon. 

Name a divine prophet or an apostle who ain’t sinned heavy and see if God himself don’t slap them to sleep. 

This is exactly why Jesus does not hang with those who have already found, knew & break bread with God. He partied with the fallen who need that mustard seed replanted. Right?

God does not call the qualified. 

He knows they can do it. 

He qualifies the call by showing the power of his people in their rise from the dust and the dirt into a mighty warrior who is worthy of being favored. 

He said sin but sin no more- meaning once you have done it and been enlightened that this situation ain’t popping or proper, don’t do the shit again. So they won’t. They have mastered themselves and understand while minding God’s directives. 

They listen. 

And that is why those are the people who are worthy of God’s favor. 

Enjoy your day & be glad in it, beloved. 

Remain a blessing & watch how God shows favor in your life. Cause Hell & the worst Hell has to offer will rise up in the road to greet you. 

The choice has always been yours. 

Dios de Bendiga. 🫶🏻

[primofate]

Hi there, can I request the boys seeing you got injured or being attacked, whichever is fine ^^

Hey anon! You didn’t specify how injured but I’ll just run with it hahaha :)

Shortfic

Scenario: You got injured Part 1

Part 2 with Zhongli

Part 3 with Xiao

Characters: gn! reader x Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Childe

Warnings: angst, injury, no character death though

Masterlist

https://primofate.tumblr.com/post/653296890583154688/masterlist-for-mobile-version-main-links

Taglist (Want to be notified when something new comes out? Sign up!):

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If you’d like to be extra sweet and donate, here’s my kofi link: 

https://ko-fi.com/primofate

Diluc

“Master Diluc, if I could just interrupt--” one of the caretakers in the winery walked up to his office and prepared for the assault of words that could be fired towards him, sure enough, Diluc interrupted. “What is it? I’m a little busy right now, make it quick,” he hadn’t turned his face to look at the grim expression weaving in and out through the caretaker. Hadn’t bothered to look up to check if there was anything amiss, but the caretaker continued quickly “It’s Y/N,” the caretaker had only paused for a moment but Diluc had already picked his head up at the mention of your name. It was here that he realises something must have gone wrong, the caretaker’s expression was not a pleasant one. He was up on his feet, eyes widening a fraction at the following words, “They came back to the mansion seconds ago and they’ve been injured past what Adelinde could fix so we called for a doctor—”

In Diluc’s hurry he had stumbled over his chair, it tripping behind him with a thud on the floor but he ignored it and fast runs towards your room. Dear Archons he should NOT have let you go on that commission by yourself. You could hold your own, yes, but things happened and he really should have thought that through first. He was berating himself for it as he swung the door open. “Y/N?!” 

The urgency in his voice tells you that he perhaps had the wrong idea of what was happening, it was really just a gash on your leg, although it was bleeding profusely, the cut must have been deeper than you thought. The maid had already placed a tourniquet to stop and slow the bleeding. You tried not to show it in your face, not wanting to alarm your lover any further, but it. hurt. like. hell. “Diluc, I’m fine, it’s just a gash,” 

The maid that was previously sitting on the chair next to your bed moves away, Diluc replacing her, his eyes didn’t tear away from the wound on your leg, his expression contorted to that of worry and nervousness, before finally turning to your face, reaching a hand out to cradle your cheek. “Stop lying. You’re pale, you’re sweating--” of course he sees through you, he knows the second you get upset, knows every crease on your forehead and every slight furrow of the brow. He had memorized every inch of his beautiful, beautiful treasure. “Your hands are trembling, you’ve lost too much blood, where’s the doctor?!” He grips your hand at the realization that you might actually be in a more dire situation than presented, and just on cue the doctor comes through the door, asking for some time alone with you to do his job. 

Diluc paces outside the door, unable to stay in one place for long. He kept thinking about how frail you looked. How, if you were unlucky, it wouldn’t have just been your leg. He shook his head at the thought. He didn’t know how he was going to let you out of his sight from then on. He knew full well it would annoy you to have him following you around everywhere but.... How could he not after this?

The doctor emerged half an hour later and explained that you just needed a bit of rest and that, with a little healing magic, you didn’t need the stitches at all. “Don’t let them use that leg for a day and they should be fine, it’s nothing life-threatening but they did lose a lot of blood and is going to need time to recuperate. They’re asleep at the moment,” 

Diluc takes note of everything and quietly slips into your room. They must have sedated you in the process and he sighs as he plops down on the chair that was still placed next to your bed. His eyes soften at the sight of you finally relaxed and less in pain, hand reaching out to brush off strands of stray hair that blocked his view of your face. “You’re the only one who can scare me this much,” he mutters under his breath, as if complaining and he swears that he sees a very small and light grin on your face, as if teasing him. He smiles a little, just happy that you’re stabilized and leans in to kiss your forehead, opting to stay by your side till you wake up.

----------

Kaeya

“What do you mean unconscious?”

“J-Just as we said, Captain. They were unconscious when we found them,” Kaeya sighs in slight exasperation. Normally he was a jolly camper but when the knight in front of him is unable to say how injured you are, Kaeya gets a little wordy. “I meant to say why were they unconscious? Were they hurt? Where are they now?”

Kaeya stands. He was in the middle of some Favonius paper work. “They were bleeding profusely from the head,” Kaeya stops as if lightning has struck him and stares pointedly at the knight. “These details should be said early on,” he thought that it had just been something less threatening. Perhaps you had somehow passed out, exhausted, on your bedroom floor. Or perhaps had just rolled from the bed and onto the floor. They said that they found you in the bedroom, and his blood froze when he realizes that someone went in there to attack you.

Kaeya doesn’t bother talking the other knight into giving better reports next time, he’d do that later. He could guess that you were probably taken into the Favonius infirmary. Sure enough, when he walks in there, face scrunched up into what could only be described as worry and anger mingling together, you were awake, head bandaged up and your eyes meet. His heart breaks at how you still smile at him despite the fact that he wasn’t there to protect you. He stands next to the infirmary bed and gingerly touches your cheek, peering into your eyes. “Y/N, what happened?” he asks, eyes scanning the bandages wrapped around you. “Who did this?” and there was that angry and cold undertone in his voice that you rarely heard, as if his cryo vision had taken over his whole being.

“I’m sorry, Kaeya, I-- I can’t quite remember,” You put a hand up to cover half of your eye, your head was still throbbing and in quick realization Kaeya eases up on you and gently pushes you on your back to rest. “It’s fine, sorry, I just--” he cuts his own speech off and takes a deep breath in. Focus on the good. He tells himself. “I’m glad you’re alright, take it easy, I’ll take care of things,” By that he means he might just slaughter whoever even had the guts to break into your house and attack you in the middle of the day. The break-in was reported by townspeople, and Kaeya was sure as hell he’d get every witness to describe that asshole’s face. 

“You’re staying with me for the moment,” he decides quite quickly, and you had no qualms with that whatsoever. Hearing that you had no protest at all, he grins and leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss, afraid to hurt you. “No complaints? Perhaps this was your grand scheme all along to come live with me,” You can’t help but chuckle at how quick he bounces back. “Maybe, honey. Maybe,”

----------

Albedo

“Ow--” the knife clatters to the floor, as blood starts to pool around your finger. Albedo spins around at the meek sound you make, ignoring the knife on the floor and strides over to you just as you’ve turned on the sink and started running water on the small cut on your finger.

“Let me see,” You turn to him, blinking. His face was blank. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking but he was staring straight at you. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s just a small cut,” but he doesn’t waver and glances at the water running over your finger. “Let me see,” he tries again, this time rather forceful. That got you to obey. Turning the faucet off and awkwardly offering your hand to him.

He receives it and cradles it in his as if it was porcelain, upturning your hand to look at the small cut on your pointer finger. It was tiny. Really nothing compared to wounds that a knight might sustain. Albedo sighs and looks up at you, “Don’t go anywhere,” before stalking off, coming back a few seconds later with a first aid kit. “...Al, it’s alright, it’s not a big deal,” Albedo would only let one person give him a nickname. You. No one else. Frankly he thought the nickname was weird but if it danced on your lips, he didn’t mind it at all.

“Y/N, you’re mistaken if you think I’m going to take this lightly,” he takes out some ointment and a small roll of bandage, starting with the ointment. “Everything and anything that hurts you is a significant thing,” his gaze darkens, as if glowering at that microscopic cut. “Miniscule or massive, it doesn’t make a difference to me,” he starts wrapping your finger, “if it taints your skin, I cannot help but feel--” he doesn’t know the right word, but you do, judging from how his hold on your wrist tightens. 

A soft smile paints your features at how he was such a worry-wart. Sometimes he was so bad at navigating his own feelings but you could decipher them anyway, from his actions. You let him worry over you, and thank him once he’s done. He finishes his work by taking your hand, and pressing it to his lips, his eyes darting up to lock on yours. That made you blush every damn time. His green eyes were just so mesmerizing, and so was his heart.

----------

Childe

Dear mother of the Archons, perhaps whoever was responsible for your injuries had some type of death wish. Everyone should offer prayers for whoever had cut you up. Your arms and legs were littered with small scratches from trying to run away from the attackers, you thought going through the thick forest was a good idea. In essence, it had slowed the thieves down. They had managed to throw a fire bomb at you that severely burned your right hand, and the right side of your abdomen. 

Perhaps it was thanks to adrenaline running through you that you had actually managed to make it to the gates of Liyue, just before the bridge, but you’d crumpled down right then and there. The Millelith guards didn’t recognize you, but the three Fatui agents walking on the bridge did. “Someone had better tell him,” The group of Fatuis scrambled nearer to you, one of them picking you up, but glancing at the other who had just spoken up. “I’m not doing that, you do it,” it was slightly comical, seeing them pass off the duty of who was supposed to report to Childe about it. “You know how he gets when it comes to them, I’m not doing--” then one of them finally gets their bearings together.

“Shut up, get them to the healer first,” The tallest one shoves the one carrying you, urging him to go fast and off he went. Now it was just two Fatui agents looking at each other. Two Fatui agents who decided that they would just face his wrath together. “Sir,” one of them starts as Childe turns around to look at them. He actually had no tasks today and was just about to go off to find you. “About Y/N...” Childe’s eyebrows shoot up, what in the world could these agents have to say about you? “We’ve sent them to the healers, they collapsed at the entrance of Liyue, it... doesn’t look good...”

All hell descends upon Childe’s demeanor and poise. His face darkens, his eyes burning holes through the two agents and his fists closed up on his side. His bow appears and hovers behind him, the only thing that shone through his dark person. “The two of you--” he starts, “are going to find out who did it. I’m expecting a report by nightfall,”

Childe himself shows up at the healers quarters, and was told of your condition. “Their hand is going to scar,” keeps reverberating in his head. Like the sound that he imagines the skulls of those who dared touch you crunching under his feet, over and over again. Childe actually winces when he sees you. Small bandages on your arms and legs from the scratches, your right hand wrapped up adequately and, he couldn’t see it now, but he was sure your abdomen was wrapped too.

You cracked an eye open, feeling another presence in the room. Childe immediately appears next to you, leaning over the bed and watching your expression. “...It hurts, doesn’t it?” he asks, tracing over your bandaged hand. You remained quiet for a moment before nodding your head slowly. Just remembering it caused a blinding pain in your mind’s eye. You’d been given drugs to ease the pain now, but there were still traces of it lingering on your skin. “How dare they,” both your eyes snapped open at Childe’s nearly contorted voice, shadowed and overpowered by rage. 

You pick up your good hand and touch his arm with the tips of your fingers. You didn’t like it when he got like this. “Childe, it’s alright,” far from it, but it was the only reassurance you could offer. He catches your hand and brings it up to his face, pressing your hand to his cheek as if it was a lifeline. “It’s not. It’s not,” he repeats to himself, his anger also stemming from the fact that he wasn’t there to protect you. “They’ll regret even laying eyes on you,” You knew he wanted to go now, knew that he wanted to get to the bottom of it, but you yet again pull your hand away to grasp at his shirt, the fabric scrunching up under your hold. “...But stay with me for tonight? Please?” 

That got him. He would never say no. His form relaxes and he leans in to kiss your lips, gentle yet with a hidden hunger in them. “Of course,” he simply says, as if his previous agenda forgotten.

But he would never forget. He would never forget for as long as he could see that scar. 

Tomorrow, he would decimate each and every one of them.

[landinoandco]

Could I ask for a Max Verstappen request?

Where you get all excited to tell him you’re pregnant and it doesn’t go well. Could you make it super angsty

Of course you can :) here you go, I hope you enjoy! 

Max Verstappen x reader 

Warnings: angst but with fluff at the end

Word count: 2.2 k 

Requests are open...

Baby, the future is ours

At last the summer break had rolled around again, to the relief of the Formula one drivers and crew, they had 3 long weeks ahead of them to fill with whatever they deemed stress-free or relaxing. The subject of activity depending on person to person - most sane folk tended to stick to a holiday to Greece or if you were an adrenaline junkie like Daniel Ricciardo jumping out of planes or BMX biking. You had lost count of the times Max - your boyfriend - had rushed in to tell you about all of the exciting things his best friend had gotten up to as of late. 

You and Max had decided to take a break and travel to a cosy, quiet part of Italy - to escape the press, the stress and most importantly the eagle eye of social media. It would just be you and him for a few weeks before reality brought you back to Milton Keynes in the shape of Christian Horner and his motley crew. 

You and Max had met in 2018 at a gala event Redbull had hosted, Pierre Gasly - being a close friend of yours - had introduced you two and to say the pair of you hit it off instantly was an understatement, whether it was a mixture of the Dutch meets British humour you had no clue but you weren’t one to complain. A few months later and Max had asked you to travel around the world with him - you did so willingly and life had been nearing perfect ever since. Of course you had your ups and downs, where the universe seemed to really test not only your love for one and other but your patience. A few arguments had shown you that both being hot-headed never ended well. 

You were sat out on the balcony, a book in hand and looking out into the Italien countryside. Max had left for a run and to explore the local village, leaving you, your thoughts and your growing baby. You were pregnant - you had taken the test just before flying out, this meant that Max wasn’t aware. You hadn’t told him yet and you had no clue how you were going to. As it turns out telling your partner you were pregnant was easier said than done - ironically. 

You and Max hadn’t had the baby talk yet - you had but only along the lines of: “one day, when we’re older and married and driving isn’t the main priority anymore.” Those were Max’s words. He wanted to be there for his child, to watch him or her grow, to see every milestone but most importantly to be a good and nurturing father. 

There was part of you that was slightly worried because you just didn’t know how Max would take it - you couldn’t keep it in any longer though. You had to tell him. There was another part of you that was excited - from a very young age you knew you wanted to have a family of your own with the person you loved the most. Call it childish naivety. At this point in time, you were ready to become a mother - well as ready as anyone ever could be. 

Placing your book onto the table, you made your way into the kitchen, grabbed a glass and filled it. Sighing loudly as you leant onto the countertop. 

“That was a loud sigh.” A voice called out from behind you. You recognised it instantly. Whipping your head around, you saw Max standing there, wiping the sweat from his forehead. 

Chuckling, you hit back, “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

Rolling his eyes, he made his way over to you and wrapped his arms around your middle, placing a sweet, chaste kiss onto the side of your head. Leaning into his warm embrace, you let out another long but content sigh. 

“Seriously, what is it with you and sighing today.” Max uttered, his lips still against the side of your head. 

You went to move forward, out of his welcoming embrace. You knew what you had to do. 

“There’s something I need to tell you.” Instantly the atmosphere changed, you could feel Max stiffen behind you. Maybe the tone you chose to make that comment in was too serious but it was now or never. 

“Haha, which of your friends is pregnant this time.” He quipped jokingly, trying to break the tension. 

Instantly you knew the way the conversation was going to end, a pang of hurt felt in your stomach. You squeezed your eyes shut, catching your lip with your teeth. He stood there with an air of innocence and unknown, concern dancing in his eyes - he went to reach his arm out to you, to offer that encouragement. 

You braved the words that came out of your lips, “Me.” You almost whispered. Time seemed to slow. Max dropped his arm and instantly took a step back. 

“Pardon.” Was the only thing he could force out of his mouth, his throat seemed to close up and his hands went clammy. He definitely heard you the first time but he wanted to make sure it wasn’t a night terror. A bad dream he had failed to wake from. 

“I am, Max,” You said again, your voice wavering. 

“Oh.” He stated, his face drained of colour, his mouth set in a straight line. 

“Is that all you have to say.” You swallowed thickly, your eyes swam with tears. You had a hunch this was how it was going to end but it didn’t stop is from hurting the way it did. You had hoped he would have proved you wrong, to have wrapped his arms around you and to have spun you around. To have laughed. To have cried. To have shown a little more excitement to the fact you were now carrying his child. His first child. 

You moved past him and sat down on one of the wooden chairs, rubbing your hands over your face. He was still stood there. His eyes fixated on the view out of the window. No emotion read in his eyes. It was almost like you had hit the ‘off’ button. He tapped his foot and made a clicking noise with his mouth before turning around to face you - meeting your gaze. 

“How long have you known.” His voice was hoarse.

“A couple of days before we flew out.” You answered him, moving your face back to rest in your hands. 

There was a pause. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner.”

You took a breath, looking him dead in the eye. “Because I knew this was how you were going to react.” You didn’t trust your voice at all, you also didn’t know whether you wanted to scream at him or cry in the corner. 

“Right.” Was all he said. Still stood there like some awkward teenager after a rather large telling off from their mother. 

“Is that all you have to say to me?” You asked him, nostrils flaring. You were allowed to be angry, right? 

“What do you expect me to say.” He rounded on you, his voice raising more than was necessary. Tears had spilled down your cheeks, you didn’t have the energy to fight back. As soon as he realised the effect this was having on you, he went to move forward again, his eyes softening instantly. “I’m sorry - I - I shouldn’t have raised my-”

“Get out, Max.” You stated lowly. By this point, you had stood up, shuddering away from his desperate grasp. He knew he had made a mistake. You knew he regretted it, the moment the words had left his mouth. 

“Get out?” He repeated quietly, his voice cracking, you could see tears glazing his vision. 

“Just - please, go on a walk - come back once you have more to say to me.” You spat.

“But - But I already have more to say-” You cut his rambling off once again. 

“Please. Max.” You insisted, your voice betraying you again. “Go.” You whispered. 

Max stormed out of the door, ensuring to slam it so hard the chandelier on the ceiling swung precariously. You sank back into your chair and let out a loud sob, unable to hold it in any longer. 

Max was mad. Not at you, that would be unfair. He was mad at himself. At the world. At everything actually because at this point why the hell not. You were pregnant - don’t get him wrong, he was over the moon. He was going to be a dad. 

It was too soon. 

He still had his full F1 career ahead of him. A promising and long F1 career as a matter of fact. He wanted a baby to be his main priority and he wanted to share those one in a lifetime moments with you. He knew there was no point in being mad, it wasn’t like they were in a position where they couldn’t have a child. They had plenty of things to offer, a nurturing home with parents who were head over heels in love with each other and a large family - blood and not - who would be willing to support and love the child as if it was their own. Max really was in love with you. He knew it would be you to mother his children in the end, he just didn’t think it would be now. 

He reached for his phone, went into his contacts and pressed on the number that read the name: “D.R new phone.” Whilst it wasn’t adventurous like many thought it would be, it saved the confusion from calling a number that no longer existed. 

Daniel picked up on the second ring. “Hey dude, how’s it going?” 

“Not good at all, Dan, not good at all.” Max admitted, his voice wavering once again. He explained the events that had happened a mere 5 minutes ago, the way he reacted and the way he left you. Hurt and alone.

“I’m not going to lie to you, mate, you’ve fucked up big time.” Dan spoke after what felt like a loud silence. After all, Daniel knew you just as well as he knew Max. 

“I know. I know I have, do you think I’ve been selfish?” He asked, his tone full of raw emotion. 

“Yes.” Dan stated simply, “I think you have been, especially since she even told you this is how she thought you would react. How much stress do you think she had been putting on herself? Come one, I’ve taught you to be better than this.” Daniel paused, Max could almost hear him place his thumb and ring finger onto the bridge of his nose. “You know, just as well as I know, she knows it isn’t the best time. Her becoming pregnant is very much a two person job, I think it’s time that you go back to her and have a conversation like the adult I know you are.” 

In that moment, Max was so grateful to have someone like Dan just a call away. “Thank you, Dan. Really. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

“Alright Mr Father-to-be, don’t be going all soppy on me now.” Daniel joked, returning back to his normal teasing. That was the best thing about Daniel, he was quite useful when you needed him to be. 

“You can count yourself on being the godfather after that.” Max added, a large beaming smile plastered onto his face. 

He heard Dan let out a loud laugh, “Go on, leave me be. Good luck, mate, let me know how it goes and when the time is right tell her I say congrats.” 

“Of course, mate. Thank you, again.” Max muttered, looking back in the direction of the villa. After he hung up, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and ambled slowly - working out exactly what he was going to say to you. 

Once he had opened the door, he called out to you. “Babe?” He heard a sniffle in response. You were still slumped on the chair in the kitchen, shooting daggers at the cupboard opposite. 

Max sat opposite you, reaching out for your hand. Grudgingly you let him take it, you blinked and he took a deep breath before a large, beaming smile crept onto his face.

“We’re going to be parents.” He rubbed the back of your hand, speaking tentatively. You nodded, your lower lip trembled. Max stood up, still keeping a hold of your hand as he gave it a slight tug, indicating that you should stand up. You made your way into his embrace, his arms wrapping securely around you, tucking your face into the crook of your neck as he rocked gently side to side, burying his face into your hair. He then moved his hands to cradle your face, wiping the stray tears away before peppering your face with feather light kisses. 

“We’re going to be parents.” He repeated, a little louder and to this you let out another sob, laughing as he picked you up and spun you around. 

“I’m sorry. I was being selfish.” He said, as he wrapped you back up into his arms. You smiled into his chest. In that moment, you couldn’t be happier. It was like all of your childhood dreams had come true. In that kitchen stood your new family, mismatched and sometimes a little bit broken but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[iwadori]

Getting hurt in argument PT 1 (Iwaizumi, Tsukishima)

hi!! so can i request a hurt to comfort with iwaizumi, tsukishima and any character that you want ? i saw you had reblogged a prompt list so you could us 18 for inspiration! @sheiscalling

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Word count: 2.1K

Genre: angst,fluff

masterlist

Tsukishima:

You and Tsukishima just moved in with each other a few days ago

Sharing a house has kind of put you at odds

As getting used to each others habits takes a while to get used too

You just hope that after a while things will go back to usual

Tsukishima has been conveniently busy since you guys moved in together, claiming he has to practice more since the Sendai Frogs have a supposed upcoming tournament. 

So he’s left you to your own devices unpacking boxes, picking out and buying furniture whilst working from home. Today’s task is choosing the wallpaper, which you wanted to ask Tsukishima’s opinion on (since he’s always been judgmental of certain colours, patterns and prints.)

Y/N: Hey Tsukki! You coming to *insert store that sells wallpapers here* today… it closes at 5pm??

Kei: Yhh practices finishes at 1 so I’ll probably run some errands get changed and meet you there for 3

Y/N: Okay! See you then <3

You were ecstatic, Tsukishima is finally going to do something for your new place and on the plus you get to spend time together. Maybe you’ll get to go to that new desert place across the road from your house.

2:45PM

You decide to get there a tad bit early so you can have a few options picked out (as you know how detailed and picky Kei can be.) As you picked out paints and swatches you noticed how time went by…

3:14PM

Surprised that Kei isn’t here right on the dot (since he despises lateness and on many occasion have reprimanded you when you’ve been just a tiny bit late) but just assume he’s stuck in traffic or something.

3:32

You’re still standing outside waiting, getting a tiny bit embarrassed of the looks of the passer-by strangers as if they could tell you’re desperately waiting for someone. You checked your phone, expecting a message from Kei explaining his lateness or saying he’lll be there soon.

4:00

He’s now an hour late, with no contact at all which got you frustrated as you really hoped that he would do at least one thing for you today. So you decided to go and choose what YOU want since it seems that Kei doesn’t seem to really care.

5:15

After nearly emptying the store with all your choices and additional furniture picks you finally make it back home with still NO word from Kei. You are completely over it! But he is now the least of your worries, now your current agenda is unpacking plates and cutlery (so you and Tsuki actually have something to eat of off and that’s if he ever joins you for dinner)

You’re washing and polish plates as you hear your front door open and shut with a slight slam. “Ugh practice was draining today” he said, tired 

You did not acknowledge his presence at all, you were beyond agitated that he made plans with you and then didn’t show up AND THEN didn’t even make sure the first thing he did was apologise. “Babe, whats for dinner” He asked entering the living room.

AN: Btw you have like a open kitchen type of thing so you can see the kitchen and the living room in the same room if that makes sense ://

You still ignored him, washing your plates annoyance slowly but surely building up inside of you the more he spoke “Y/N, did you hear me i asked what was fo-” Tsukishima stopped his words as he saw all the stuff you’ve bought for the house and before realising that he blew off your plans together he says,

“Y/N.. what the fuck is this shit”

That made you take a pause, and freeze ‘That is all he’s worried about’ you think. As you’re still ignoring him and he’s wondering why you decided to buy all this ‘crap’ (in his words not yours) he picks up one of the wallpaper designs and brings it to you.

“Y/N you really think we’re putting this shit on the walls..?” He asked 

You still ignore him, scrubbing harder and harder on the same plate you’ve been washing since he’s got here ( you definitely know it’s clean by now but who cares )”Y/N, are you listening to me” He then grabs your shoulders turning him to face you “Why the fuck would you buy this??” 

By now you were raged, “Is that ALL you care about!” You shout “You don’t care how I’ve been slaving away getting this place, our NEW place ready for us to live in but you don’t care you’re so self obsessed that all you’ve been doing is going to practice and complaining!”

He was about to speak before you stopped him again “Oh and by the way if you’ve got a problem with my choices for our walls then maybe YOU should’ve been at the store at the time we agreed upon! You dick.” after saying this his lips part in surprise, as he now remembers the promise he made you. 

You turn your body back to the sink, tears filling your eyes as you go back to ferociously scrubbing the plate again. 

“Y/N I’m sorry I-” He starts

“Oh shut the fuck up Tsukishima” You say a bit to agressively slamming your hands (and the plate) down on the counter, cutting your hand in the process 

“Shit” You say as blood starts to seep through your hand well there goes the clean plate you get a towel and hold it against your hand stopping the blood for a short while and you bend down to start picking up the plate remains as Tsukishima just stands there not really knowing what to say or do.

“Y/N i’m sorry about EVERYTHING” he says bending down to your level as you still pick up the plate remains. “What can I do to make this all better?”

“Just fuck off Tsuki” You say bitterly not looking him in the eyes

“I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay” he says grabbing your wrist softly to stop you from further injury “Just come sit down so i can atleast bandage your hands”

You finally look up at him, tears still in your eyes but you silently agree getting up and letting him lead you to the couch. He bandages you up, not saying a word as your sniffles and whimpers fill the quiteness in the room.

“Y/N. I am really truly sorry I-” He says

“Why don’t you care anymore?” You interrupt tears now streaming down your face “I know i can be overbearing at times, but I just wanted you to be excited about moving in with me as I was about you. Do you not want to live with me anymore” you cried

“I’m sorry i’ve been so busy it’s just practice and tournaments and … I was kind of nervous about moving in with you I just love you so much and I don’t want to mess anything up” he said “And I’m sorry about not coming to the store I just got tired up with practice and I’m just really sorry Y/N”

He goes over to the things you’ve bought and picks up one of the paint colours you chose (your favourite option) “This is beatiful Y/N you have such a great taste and I like anything that you like to be honest.”

He stares at you for a response as he noticed your tears have stopped running, which is a good sign. “I just want you to be more involved and show that you care about me about us “ you say

“I will and I do.. I always do” He said pulling you into a hug 

“I love you Kei” You say into his chest 

“I love you too” 

You spend the rest of your night unpacking plates, putting up wallpaper, painting walls and putting up furniture ending up on the couch with two slices of strawberry shortcake from the bakery across the street watching an episode of *insert your favourite TV show here* in your new place which you can finally call a home.

Iwaizumi:

You and Iwaizumi have been dating since highschool

You’ve had a past with anger issues but that was all sorted before you met Iwa

You’re very hard working and sometimes overworking but you have Iwa to always make sure you’re not too hard on yourself

You play volleyball just like your boyfriend, being the captain of your team is your pride and joy but sometimes you are way too hard on yourself trying to reach perfection. 

You’re in the gym way past normal hours setting to yourself against the wall with sweat dripping down your forehead breathing slightly more than usual

‘5 more minutes’ you think to yourself knowing damn well it’s going to be more than 5 minutes but you just have to perfect your form then you can stop.

You stop for a small water break and also to check your phone seeing 5+ messages from your lovely boyfriend Hajime

Haji: Y/N how was your day 

Haji: What do you want for dinner

Haji: I think we should get chinese

Haji: Y/N… you alive

Haji: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeffhpeE/

Haji: I just ran into *Insert Best friends name* and she told me you were last seen at practice I hope you’re not in the gym Y/N

Haji: I’m coming to the gym… you better not be there

By the time you start going back to set against the wall you look up to see a semi mad Hajime at the doors of the gym..

“Y/N.. I thought you said you wasn’t going to keep overworking yourself this term” He said slowly approaching you 

“Just” set “Gotta” set “Fix” set “My” set “Form” 

“Your set is fine babe, it’s perfect … you’re perfect” he says reaching out to touch you

“Well I guess perfect isn’t good enough then” you mumble

“Y/N that’s not what I meant” He responds touching your shoulder

Out of reflex, your hand flicks to his face your nail (which are amazingly sharp and long) catches him on his cheek causing a petite cut to now appear and small amounts of blood to come out of it. You both are frozen shocked at what just happened, you never meant to touch him like that at all. 

You quickly rush to your stuff leaving your volleyball in the gym running out the doors. How could you be so horrible, hitting your boyfriend in the face after doing so much work getting over all your anger issues. ‘Hes going to hate you now’ you think.

You stop at a bench trying to clear your head, crying softly to yourself worrying now about your relationship with Haji and where it stands now. Without you noticing, Iwaizumi sits down next to you, waiting for you to compose your self before speaking.

“I know you didn’t mean it Y/N” he said pulling you under his arm 

“Iwa, I’m so so sorry I didn’t mean to stay late in the gym it’s just that we have a competition next week and last time we lost because of me and I just … wanted it all to be perfect “ You said sniffling you look up at him and see the cut on his face that you caused making you even more upset “I am really sorry, I understand that you probably want to break up with me for hurting you which is completely valid”

You don’t want him to confirm your suspicions of him breaking up with you, so you abruptly stand up getting reading to move onwards again before he grabs your wrist “you’re not leaving till I know you’re okay” he says

which makes you laugh a bit “It’s crazy that I’m the one that messed up, yet you’re worrying about me”

“Well that’s my job Y/N, I always worry about you when you’re overworking yourself and being hard on yourself it’s not good” he said “accidents happen, I know you didn’t intend on me getting hurt and I know you’re going to do great in the upcoming game babe dont worry”

A week later, all was forgotten Iwa’s cheek healed quickly and he never blamed you for it all and reminded you that it wasn’t your fault whenever it seemed you felt bad about it.

You’re now playing your volleyball game Iwa in the stands cheering you on as loud as he could and of course you were doing your best because in Hajime’s words you are perfect.

AN:Thank you so much for my first request I hope you like it. I’m not really a fan of the Iwa one but the tsuki one i like the way it went even though I was meant to add a third character but got too tired. But thank for the request keep them coming!!