#devnmon blurbs

[devnmon]

rose bushels

summary: you prick your finger on a rose bush, and astarion just has to indulge himself in you again.

warnings: sexual tension, mentions of blood & injury

wc: 601

a/n: basically @bodythieves sent me this idea and couldnt get it out of my head till i wrote a short little thing about it <3

--

Your home with Astarion was nothing if not perfect. Rosemary and bergamot floated throughout every room, along with fresh air and roses on the table from the garden you both tended to. Currently you were there, picking a few new ones for vases around the house, with Astarion by your side.

Not only did red roses remind you of your vampire, but white and pink ones in their own bushels accompanied them. There you stood, silently enjoying each other’s company while you hand picked each flower.

Aroma wasn’t the only reason you kept so many of the flowers. Oftentimes Astarion littered the bathroom with their petals, when he accompanied you in the bath or just reading in a chair while you relaxed in the warm water. 

Every little thing he could add on to make your existence was done in a heartbeat, picking up chores around the house when you weren’t feeling up to it, listening intently when you needed an ear, and trimming the thorns from ‘multitudes of the flowers so you didn’t—

“Ow…”

Prick your finger.

“Oh, gods dammit. I must’ve missed that patch. I’m sorry, my love. Are you alright?” Astarion inquired, placing his clippers and gloves aside to turn his full attention to you. 

The last thing he wanted was for you to bleed unnecessarily, unless it was in his honor. 

“I am,” you replied, wincing a little at the sting on your fingertip. Nothing you couldn’t handle, especially after all the blows you’d taken in the past. 

“Let me help.”

It was the smallest of cuts, barely anything to be worried about. But this was Astarion; even if you came close to getting scraped up, he was there to relieve or prevent any pain from grazing its way across your body. 

A thick drop of crimson protruded from the opening in your skin, and he smelled it right away. 

“It’s nothing, silly. Just a scratch.” 

“Anything that involves you bleeding without your consent must be dealt with.” 

Astarion grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to the spare chair in the corner of the room. He sat down first, pulling you onto his lap. Just like always, you followed suit and he pulled you closer to him than ever. 

“Whatever shall we do about this, hm?” He asked, tilting his head to let a silver curl fall over his forehead. 

“I told you it’s only a scratch–” 

Clocking the look in his eye told you all you needed to know.

Oh. Oh. 

Even just a whiff of your blood turned him on, Astarion’s sanguine hunger flickering in his gaze towards you. 

“Oh, I see.” 

“Hm? What do you see, darling?” 

“That look in your eye. You want to clean my wound, don’t you?” 

“Yes, I do…” 

Without another word, he took your wrist in his hand and lifted your finger to his lips, sucking it into his mouth. Only a drop or two coursed over his taste buds, giving him a taste of his favorite blood. 

Even a minute amount of your blood sent Astarion lurching towards you, capturing your lips in an ever-burning kiss, as he slotted his tongue so easily between them. How he groaned as you indulged him, the little shakes in his breath proving the growth of lust in his body… and under where you sat. 

“Astarion…” you whimpered, his kisses traveling down to your neck with soft flits of his tongue here and there. 

“Mmm. Take me to the bedroom…” he purred against your neck. Indulge him in what would become a very long night? You would never deny him of that.

[sinsandsweetness]

t’s 1k celebration !

It’s a little insane to me that I have 1.1k of you following me and reading all my silly little stories. You’re all so kind and encouraging and so so patient and I love each and every one of u. Sooooo since I go back to school next week, I’m sure I’ll be a little slower in my writing and I wanted to spend this week just basking in the limited freedom of summer I have left. I was going to write a bunch anyway but I thought it might be fun for you guys if I did a little celebration. They can be a lot of fun and I always love interacting with you guys. So if you’d like, go ahead and choose from one of the options below, and send me an ask! Anons are welcome as always, though I ask that minors do not interact for the smutty stuff.

Here are your options:

💿 -> send me a character (or two) and a situation, and I’ll write a short blurb of how I think it would go (for example: reader brings a cat home but is scared what Rick/Daryl will think)

🫧-> send me an nsfw link and a character and I’ll write a short blurb about it.

⭐️ -> send me the title of something that I’ve written, and I’ll respond with a mini moodboard for it.

✉️ -> send me your own daydreams. I had this one anon send me the hottest little blurb, and I LOVED IT. So I’m hoping that anyone who wants to, will send a similar kind of smutty (or fluffy) blurb of their own in, for me and all my loves to read and swoon over.

💡-> send me a headcanon about any character and I’ll tell you my thoughts/add on to it.

🍌-> fmk! Send me three twd characters (or three eras of a specific character) and I’ll tell you who I’d fuck, who I’d marry and who I’d kill.

🪩 -> Q&A- send me any questions you like! As fun and flirty or as deep and personal as you want. Ask games linked here , here , and (nsfw) here if anyone wants <3

🍸-> send me an unpopular opinion (about twd, fanfics, or writing in general) and I will tell you my thoughts on it.

*Any of the submissions can be sfw or nsfw! I love either. Characters I will write for for this celebration are Rick, Daryl, Shane, and Rosita, and then Negan and Merle (selectively lol)

* i will still be writing and working on the prompts and requests I’ve already recieved. My inbox is nice and full but I am working on them, I promise. I might not write every submission, if it isn’t really my thing or simply can’t come up with a dialogue for it, but please know you are very appreciated nonetheless. Nothing personal:) Please look at my rules before sending anything in, but other then that… let’s get daydreaming!*

- this celebration will go on for one week, from august 30th, until september 6th.

tagging some mutuals: @ricksswhore @virtualreader @writella @catt-leya @murdadixon @olive3oil @colt-python @grimesthinker @ankhmutes @murder-jacket @sickyrat @megangovier20 @devnmon @darylsdix0nn @taylormarieee

(If you would prefer not to be tagged in the future, please let me know<3)

[devnmon]

too sweet. || a.m.

a/n: heyy ok i know you guys have probably seen enough of the fics with hozier songs but i also love him and when i heard this track the minute it was released, i was like oh yeah this is arthur morgan core. if ur bothered by me writing this then i say that is simply your problem ngl. in the case that you are reading this, it's just a silly little blurb that sums up arthur morgan in the eyes of the song too sweet by hozier !

wc: 632 | warnings: mentions of smut (that's all)

Arthur Morgan was never an early bird. In fact he despised it. Most times he did was only during a hunt, when he woke smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze. You– you were different; completely rising before the sun rose like clockwork. While you always told him never to stay up till the sunrise, he did, arrogantly, anyways.

He was amazed at how you were so easily able to exist in a world that fought against you– not only in the gang, but as a woman. Drunk on life you seemed to be, Arthur would say, while he took his whiskey neat. In his bed at 3am many nights, he took pride in getting to lay next to you when the slower moments came to pass.

You kissed him in the early mornings when you rose, lips still tasting of the previous night's wine. The sweet morning greeting of your lips had him praying for you to lay with him longer. Arthur was lovesick and kept you wherever he went; whether that meant drawings of you from across camp, or your name written with a heart next to his on a different page. On the off chance he gets back to camp early in the mornings before you wake, he leaves you the most exquisite trinkets for you to remember him by.

It's not often he must stay out of camp for longer than a couple days, but when he does, he returns with a heartfelt apology that takes place in your shared bedroll, begging you to accept his apology with every praise. Your touch has been ingrained into his mind, body. and soul, and yet– it burns his skin every time. Each press of your lips and swipe of your tongue over his skin.

He's so goddamned lucky you've let him at your body long enough to know how well his melds with yours like putty. You're the cream he voids from his coffee– because you're too sweet for him. You're too sweet with your sweet lips like heaven's gate, and Arthur is marveled at how you let him of all men kiss you.

The natural beauty you walked around with every day made Arthur seethe with envy at the fact that other men would gaze upon what was his. Most times when you clock his jealous stares and frustrated grunts, it's instinct when you immediately reassure him that you're not going anywhere.

His frustration is released among his true aim towards the spots on your body that make you mewl and call out his name like a mantra. It boosts his ego through the roof like a rocket when you respond and intertwine your soul even more with his.

When he's free from the constant back and forth from camp and jobs, there's a rare moment where Arthur dedicates two or three days to only you. He whisks you away to an expensive hotel, and uses his every power to bring you a new kind of ecstasy when he shares the bed with you. Arthur never wants you to think he doesn't have time to spend on you; he proves that any moment he can.

At that point, he'd gladly die between your thighs just to hear the wanton noises of carnal desire you feel for him and only him. He's seen so much pain in the world, that he's astonished someone like you can be beautiful and perfect so naturally.

You're the sun he wakes to every morning, the contrast of the heat during the cool rainy nights. As sweet as wine and the grapes it has been made from; he'd wait forever to taste your kiss again as long as you were there to ease the aches and pains.

Until then... he'll take his whiskey neat.

[devnmon]

intimacy w/ daryl dixon

taking this and running with it:

885 words, a blurb that i wrote inspired by this tumblr post.

-

Daryl never wore jewelry. Like, ever. Not because he didn't like it, he would have just rather not hear backlash from his older brother and father for even thinking it looked cool.

In fact, Daryl loved all kids of jewelry. He never saw himself as an earrings kind of man, no. But a necklace or two? Even a couple of rings? He could get behind that.

He especially could if the pieces reminded him of you. After settling into Alexandria, all the chaos of uncertainty about the place, you'd found yourself in the living room of one of the neighbor's houses, tinkering with some pliers and wire. You'd created a small 'D' shape with it, paired with a loop so you could hang it around your neck with the one charm you already had.

When Daryl noticed his initial hanging around your neck, he innocently wanted to know about it, more than he thought he did. Sure, the two of you were official, you had been for what felt like months now. But the enamor inside Daryl only grew when he noticed the charm around your neck. You laid next to him in bed until his voice broke the silence.

"Is that.. my initial?" You looked down, instinctively grasping the charm in your hand and lifting it up to show him.

"Yeah, I made it. You like it?" Smiling at him, he took it in his fingers, skin brushing against the canvas of your neck.

"Yeah, I do. Can ya teach me how to make one? Wanna wear yours 'round my neck." Blushing a little, you nodded as he brought the piece of metal up to his lips, kissing it softly and letting it fall back onto your neck.

The next morning, you were sat at the kitchen table with Daryl, as he learned how to twist the wire into the shape of your initial. A careful hand helped him to hold the pliers the correct way, twisting all the ends in, as to not avoid any sharp edges.

"That looks so good, D." He smiled up at you, continuing to loop more wire around the initial of yours to create the loop that would hold it on the chain.

"Well, I learn from the best." You pushed him slightly, teasing at the fact that he teaches you how to mostly everything hunting and scavenging related.

You handed him the chain, your lovesick brain drifting off into thought as Daryl attempted to put the chain through the charm's loop. His bulky fingers gave him trouble doing so at first, but eventually the chain and charm were one.

"Not to be perverted, but you're gonna look really handsome with my initial around your neck." A twinge of blush rose on the apple of daryl's cheeks, just enough so you could see through the chestnut bangs hung over his face.

"Just like the way you look with mine 'round yours." Your hand went to the 'D' charm then, holding it in your palm with a protective instinct.

"Gosh, Daryl. I didn't know you were such a flirt." The two of you shared a smirk, knowing how Daryl usually is with choosing his words. You gushed internally at the possessiveness he had, after waiting for what felt like forever to confess his feelings to you.

You watched him pick up the chain, insisting he could put it on himself, not realizing that his big, strong hands wouldn't be accommodating to the delicate clasp of the necklace.

Daryl grunted to himself, a bit frustrated that a task this simple was harder than it looked. He wanted to prove to you that he could do it, so he hesitated in asking for your help. Though, he knew your hands were smaller than his, he just didn't want it to seem like he couldn't open the damn clasp of a necklace...

Daryl Dixon, always insisting he can do anything alone. Without help.

"Daryl I can-"

"Nah, I got it. Almost-" He grunted again, visibly frustrated this time. His arms were getting tired from holding them behind his neck to try to unclasp the necklace. He sighed in defeat as he placed his hands back on the table, still holding the piece of jewelry in his palm. You silently stood up, taking the chain from his warm grasp, moving to stand behind him.

Daryl felt your fingers brush the skin of his neck, as the chain lay against his skin now. You fumbled with the clasp a couple times before hooking it onto one of the loops of the chain.

"There." your hands rested on his shoulders, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on his collarbone. You walked around him, his hand catching your wrist and pulling you onto his lap.

You draped your arms around Daryl's neck, watching as he glanced down to see the silver chain laying perfectly against his skin.

"Thanks, sunshine." His chin tipped up to you, signaling he wanted a kiss from you. Pressing your lips together, you held the charm around his neck in your hands. You felt it added a protectiveness to his necklace and yours. These would serve to remind each of you that even when you'd be apart, you would still have each other, no matter where you were in the world.

-

a/n: likes + reblogs are appreciated!! it lets me know how much everyone enjoys my writing & sharing to others is a generous thing to do. much love & thanks :)

[devnmon]

Rush.

Summary: The hot water floods not only your skin, but your head with thoughts of the man you loved.

A/n: Wrote this after a long day of missing Daryl and being so head over heels for him... anyway enjoy my brainrotted thoughts.

wc: 560

It was the hot water, and it was him.

Each droplet traveled the expanses of your skin from the moment it left the head of the shower. The sound of rushing water and warmth behind closed lids was only a reminder of him further. Within the water was heat, one that burned in your heart for him the way his burned for you. Your fingertips scraped through the grime and dirt thick in your hair, almost the same way he did for you the first time you convinced him this place was safe. That this place was home, Alexandria.

What was once a calm and peaceful place for you, could never be made the same without him. Through the river of water covering your face, you felt him. You always felt him, more when you knew he was around somewhere nearby, but even more when his presence escaped you. Every second your eyes remained closed was a second more you wished with your whole heart that he was there. Standing opposite you, just watching you wash the buildup on your skin, the stress, the sweat, all of it-- he would study you washing yourself clean.

He only wished bathing came easy to him like it did for you.

The only thing that remained, in his eyes, was your perfect self. Your only wish bouncing about in that head of yours was that you'd open your eyes and see him. That your heartache would be cured just by seeing the archer, his face, hearing his voice, feeling his hands caress the canvas of your skin.

Each and every droplet of water descending down your back was, to you, each kiss he'd planted on your body, running a shiver up your spine. Goosebumps were only ever evident in his presence, raising the delicate hairs that grew over your skin. In him, you found home. A safeness you had only felt in dreams of someplace safe to spend the rest of your life with him.

But in a moment, your eyes open, the lonely ache returning at the sight of a wall of blue tile. When the drop in your stomach returned, it only returned in a way the every day dirt and blood returned under your fingernails. A breath you hadn't realized you were holding withdrew from your chest, the next inhale finding a strong shudder before a lump formed in the back of your throat.

The state of vulnerability hits you when you realize just how alone you are. He's not there. He isn't even in the walls of Alexandria. You have no idea where he is, and that tears up any feeling of security you had into shreds.

Two years gone-- away from you. Two years looking for his best friend, his brother. Two years without his kisses, his voice, his touch. Two years without his strong arms around you, the gravel of his voice whispering he loved you and that he'd rather die before losing you.

But this, this felt worse than losing him.

The water still trickled down your back, cold now from how long it's been running. You still couldn't get the thought of him out of your mind. Like he'd been tattooed on the expanses of your skin and stuck into the ridges of your brain.

This feeling would never go away, and neither would he.