#drabble ask game

[cartwrong]

I did #13 here :) from this prompt game

this now has a sequel here

19. “Tell me where you are, I’ll come get you.”

Lamb almost didn’t pick up. 

When he saw River’s name on his mobile, he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, exhaling loudly. Jackson Lamb had done a lot of horrible things in his life and he would answer for those one day, but until then, he was cursed with River Cartwright. It was almost half past four on Saturday morning, and there was no good reason for River to call him. 

“You better be dead, Cartwright.”

“Lamb?”

The voice was laced with pain and something Lamb couldn’t place, something he had never heard from River before, something close to terror. 

“Lamb. It hurts.”

Lamb pushed himself from the couch with a groan, his body making more noise than the old radiator clanging in the corner of his office. He stumbled to his desk, putting River on speakerphone as he dialled Ho’s number from his office phone. 

“River? Where are you? Tell me where you are, I’ll come get you.”

“I don’t know,” River slurred. “I can’t see anything.”

“Yeah?” Ho answered the office phone pressed between Lamb’s ear and shoulder.

“Track Cartwright’s service phone. Now,” Lamb barked. 

“What? Why? What hornet nest has Cartwright kicked now?” Ho asked. 

“Because I fucking told you to,” Lamb yelled. “River, are you alone?” 

“I think–I think so,” River said, his breath echoing from the phone in stuttered gasps. 

Lamb rifled through his drawer for his gun, loading it methodically, bullet by bullet. “River, I need you to try and remember what happened. I’m going to come and get you, but I need to know what I’m walking into. Is whoever did this to you still there?”

“I–I don’t–I don’t know,” River stuttered. “I think so.”

“How many men?”

“Three? Yeah, it was three,” River said, then was cut off by a groan. “Fuck.”

“Ho, you need to hurry the fuck up if you don’t want me to break this phone off in your fucking arsehole.”

“Yeah, I got it,” Ho said with an air of annoyance only he could muster. “Texting it to you now.”

Lamb dropped the office phone and was already half way down the stairs before Roddy’s text came through. 

“River? Stay quiet but don’t hang up. I’m on my fucking way.”

The Slough House door clanged shut behind him as Jackson Lamb rushed to his car to find his lost joe. He didn’t know how badly hurt River was, but he did know he was going to kill every last person responsible for it.

[artemx746]

"I wish you'd take better care of yourself"

Alabaster sighed as soon as Ethan walked into their shared room, “You’re back, how was the Underworld?”

Ethan's hopes of being able to sneak in while Alabaster was asleep were quickly snuffed out. He shut the door behind himself. "It was... dark"

Alabaster narrowed his eyes, sighed again and walked over to Ethan. He held his hand out towards Ethan, Ethan didn't know what that meant.

"Come on," Alabaster urged "There's no way you don't have any injuries, let me see them. It'll only slow you down."

Ethan reluctantly held out his scarred and bruised arm, which Alabaster took in his hand and dragged Ethan to his bet to sit.

"I wish you would take better care of yourself," Alabaster remarked while pulling some bandages out of a drawer "I don't think I've ever met a person as injury prone as you. How do you get this many scars in the Underworld?"

Ethan neglected to tell Alabaster that most of the scarring did not occur in the Underworld but were rather caused by the titan Alabaster was so very loyal to. Ethan hummed, "I had to deal with three Big 3 kids."

"All three of them? I know luck isn't your thing and all, but you are very lucky to be standing." Ethan smiled at Alabaster. "Did you succeed?"

Ethan's smile faded, Alabaster seemed to take notice. "It doesn't matter, you're alive and that's what's important." Alabaster kissed Ethan on the nose, prompting a laugh from the other boy, and resumed bandaging his arm.

[theicarusconstellation]

61 jegulus 😊😊😊😊

you and @ecstarry requested this one so here’s this for both of you😈😈

prompt: 61). “I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married.” // jegulus // sfw // words: 944

Regulus studies the wedding rings on the ring bearer’s pillow in his dressing room with loathing. His stiff, old-fashioned dress robes make him fidget, wanting to crawl out of his own skin the closer he gets to the ceremony.

The ceremony. The event that will ruin his life and chain him to a woman he has no room in his heart to love.

Not that there is anything wrong with Cereus Greengrass; she just…

Isn’t him, a small, despicable voice in his head whispers. She isn’t the one who has seen his scars. She isn’t the one who broke down his brainwashed mentality and helped him see that his former truths were bigotry and hatred.

She isn’t the one who begged him not to go when he announced his engagement.

Regulus had been betrothed since birth to Adelaide Rosier, but that all fell through once Sirius ran away, plummeting the Black family’s status down to the bottom of the totem pole. For a brief while — two glorious years — he allowed himself to believe that he would be able to marry someone of his own choosing. This hope only grew stronger once he fell in love with him.

Beautiful brown skin and golden wire-rimmed glasses. Forested eyes and warm muscles that flexed and relaxed on the Quidditch pitch (and in the soft retreat of the Come-and-Go Room). A secret just for Regulus, one he could hold close to his heart until the time came to reveal it to the world.

Then, Lucius properly introduced Walburga and Orion to the Greengrass family. As it turned out, their eldest daughter was in need of a husband, and Regulus fit the bill down to the letter.

He could see no way out. Voldemort himself believed that it was something that had to be done. Regulus had no choice.

Or so he tells himself.

Yet sitting at his dressing room vanity, listening to the orchestra play the tune of noon, he cannot help but wonder what would have happened if he went with James. If he had accepted that extended hand and trusted that whatever plan his boyfriend had concocted on the spot would be successful. Would it be their wedding happening at this venue today instead?

No, he cannot dwell on the past. James has gone away, and Regulus himself is at fault for that.

He hasn’t had any lovers since you left him, that voice whispers again.

“Shut up,” Regulus hisses aloud through gritted teeth.

“Well, damn, Reg. I just got here, and you’re already sending me away.”

That voice. He knows that voice. He’s dreamt of that voice.

His back stiffens, and he uses all his courage to drag his eyes up from the vanity counter and to the mirror, where he sees behind him —

“Jamie?”

The nickname slips out like a desperate plea, begging to be heard after eons of disuse.

“Surprise.” The boy in the mirror grins weakly, though his voice cracks and trembles.

“You can’t be here.” Please don’t leave.

“I had to try. I won’t stop trying until both of us are dead. I had to take a few months to plan after you told me about…this, but I’m here now, and Regulus —“ James walks closer to him, and Regulus’ legs lift him up against his will, pulling him toward old familiar comforts.

James’ hands find his face — he’s in an old Gryffindor sweatshirt and jeans, but Regulus couldn’t care less — and he says with no hesitation,

“I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married. Sirius is in a Muggle car out front waiting for us to come out. We’ll go away, far away, to your uncle Alphard’s place; he’s already agreed. If anyone tries to stop us, I’ve gotten Crouch and Rosier on board to cause a diversion. Regulus, please, I —“ His voice catches, and Regulus feels his entire world change in the span of a second.

Could he do it? Could he leave behind everything, the altar, the rings, the loveless marriage, his parents? But what about the dangers? What about Voldemort? If he goes with James, will the Dark Lord find them? And Sirius — they haven’t spoken in years. Is he really outside, willing and eager to help him escape?

“We all want you back. We need you back. I love you so much, Regulus,” James insists. Regulus’ cheeks heat up between his palms.

I can’t.

“Okay.”

What?

“What? You — you mean it?”

“Okay. I mean it. Take me. Now. Before…”

Before I change my mind. Before the ceremony starts and the music plays and the rings are slipped on and my life stops and my prison begins.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you —“ James half-sobs, cutting himself off by pulling Regulus’ face toward his and crashing their mouths together in the first kiss Regulus has had in a long, long time.

They spend no more moments on words after that. James grabs his hand, and they both hurry out the window, which is apparently what James used to enter the room. How he got in without Regulus noticing is a mystery neither of them will ever solve.

James hasn’t stopped murmuring “thank you”s, doesn’t stop even after they’re hours down the road, headed for a countryside where love grows and happiness shines down in the form of sun rays.

Regulus doesn’t mind, he curls up in the arms of the one he loves and listens to the soft rumblings within James’ chest as he speaks, the vibrations lulling him into his first true moment of relaxation since that night in the Come-and-Go Room so many months ago.

[everythingwasalreadypicked]

"if there is one favour I can ask of you: please just stay safe." Al and Hecate 👉👈

Drabble Ask Game

Alabaster glanced at his siblings; hurrying along the edge of the battle lines to readjust their armour or catch a snack now that there was a lull in the war until the sun set. Deciding that they all would be fine for a while, he marched towards the lone figure who had just dismissed a group of empousai.

"General." The woman nodded, tilting her head.

"Lady Hecate." Alabaster straightened his back, "Your children are ready as ever, my lady."

"Wonderful," his mother smiled, tightening the straps of her dark, Stygian Iron chestplate.

"Let me?" Alabaster asked, brushing her hair off her shoulder to adjust the armour.

"Thank you, dear," His mom paused, a hand placed on top of his hair, "Is there anything I can do for���"

"If I may be bold enough to ask a favour?"

"You always have my favour. Shoot." Hecate raised his chin high with two fingers, "Is this how you kids say it..?"

"Yes, mom." Alabaster huffed, grinning.

"So?"

"Please..." He licked his lips, "Just stay safe?"

His mother arched her brows, "Stay safe. You do realise I am an immortal goddess, Gemstone?"

His face flushed. "I—"

"Are you doubting me, Alabaster?" She hissed, her eyes flashing a vibrant green.

"No!" He shook his head, stumbling backwards a few steps.

Lady Hecate's face softened, a smile growing on her lips as she clasped her hands in front, "You worry too much. Alabaster, what is it that plagues you so? Are you not clear in your crosspaths?"

"I am!" He met her eyes, his own blazing, "I am your sword and will on battlefield, Lady Mother."

"So loyal."

"I just," he mumbled, "What if something happens to you? I can't live without your guidance."

"I am immortal." His mother frowned, wrapping a piece of his side bangs around her finger.

Immortals could fade. They could be thrown to the deepest parts of Tartarus or be tied to rocks or under the sky for forever. Lord Kronos always was more volatile every time his former prison got mentioned.

"I know."

"Take a look at the mortals around us," Her voice mused, petting his head. "The entirety of Manhattan, asleep thanks to me. You want my guidance? Hold tight onto Atalus every time you wish so."

"Yes mother," Alabaster leaned into her touch, smirking, "Olympus can't even hold a candle to your torches."

She let out a short laugh. "Now. We have a war to win and enemies to crush, don't we?"

Camp Half-Blood wouldn't even know what hit them.

[graceful-starker]

Punk (for the one word Drabble)

<3 ily Jacy

~

Peter stares openly with a dreamy sigh. He bites his lip, tracking the other boy with half-lidded eyes. 

Tony kicks down the brake stand, removing his helmet in the same movement. He tucks the helmet under one arm and uses the other to run thick fingers through messy hair. 

Peter groans in appreciation, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches the boy start to look around for Peter. He’ll never get tired of looking at those tattoos, the piercings, the very embodiment of bad boy. Peter’s fantasy come to life. 

Tony spots Peter, and starts walking towards him. 

[pechaberriesandsoju]

11 for the selfship drabbles? (@menagerie-ships)

11. playing a video game together.

"I'm just saying, maybe of you weren't such a- WHAT THE SHIT?! HOW??" Wade yelped, a look of disbelief and surprise taking over his scarred face as he stared at the "Fatality" screen. The giggle next to him made him snap out of his shock, making him look over at the source. Pink curls bounced as her shoulders shook, her gold eyes crinkled at the corners as a big mischievous smile tugged at her lips.

"If only I wasn't such a what? Hm?" She asked in a smug tone, still giggling as she held the controller. He gaped at her for a moment before he closed his mouth and scrunched up his face, setting his controller down. "You little minx, you've been holding back on me!" He exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at her, making her break down into another fit of laughter. "What?? No I would never do that to you and your pride...maybe..?" Kore said, starting to lean back in her spot on the couch, pulling the controller close to her chest as she watched him start to lean into her space, mismatched eyes narrowed as his started to raise his hands.

Without wasting another second, he reached out to snatch her, mottled arms wrapping around her waist as she let out a squeal, flailing in his grasp, dropping the controller as he pulled her close. Laughter escaped her as he buried his face into her neck, hands moving along her sides, fingers dancing across her sensitive flesh through her shirt as she let out a shout. "Wade! Stop! Please!" She yelped between laughter, trying to wiggle from his grasp, only to have him tighten his grip on her, feeling his lips curl into a smirk against her neck. "Nope! You've been holding back on me this entire time! Now you gotta pay for that deception!" He said, pressing kisses and blowing raspberries against the skin for her neck.

After a few minutes of tickling her and kisses to her neck, he pulled away and looked down at her with a smug pleased smile as she panted, her hands gripping at his wrists as he pulled his hands away from her sides. "Now, what did we learn?" Wade asked in a somewhat sing song tone, smirk wide on his face. Kore huffed as she looked up at him, a smile on her flushed face as she gave his wrists a squeeze. "Don't hold back when playing fighting games?" "Wrong." He responded quickly before moving to pull her up into his lap, moving to press a sloppy kiss onto her cheek, making her giggle weakly at the kiss. "Don't hold back on me ever, especially when it comes to fighting games." He said before moving to press his lips against hers, a hum escaping her as she kissed him back.

She pressed her forehead against his as he pulled away, a pleased noise escaping his throat as he held her close. "Okay, okay, I won't hold back anymore. I'm sorry, do you forgive me sugarcube?" She asked with a tilt of her head with a soft smirk tugging at her lips. He pulled away for a moment, a fake expression of contemplation crossing his face as he let out a loud hum. "I guess, but only because I can't stay mad at my favorite girl. Now c'mere, I'm not done kissing you."

[scealaiscoite]

⋆˚࿔ build-a-fic 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

➴ chose a line of dialogue, an emotion and a setting (a number, letter, + a creature), and write/request to your heart’s content!

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ a piece of dialogue

꒰ 1 ꒱ “i can’t fucking believe this.”

꒰ 2 ꒱ “what they said back there. is it true?”

꒰ 3 ꒱ “it’s not safe here anymore- we need to leave. now!”

꒰ 4 ꒱ “you know how much i care about you.”

꒰ 5 ꒱ “they’re never going to hurt you again.”

꒰ 6 ꒱ “here, let’s get you warmed up.”

꒰ 7 ꒱ “i didn’t do it. please, you have to believe me!”

꒰ 8 ꒱ “i’m taking you home, and that’s that.”

꒰ 9 ꒱ “do you trust me?”

꒰ 10 ꒱ “i can’t sleep either. mind if i join you?”

꒰ 11 ꒱ “you’re not your worst mistake.”

꒰ 12 ꒱ “try and eat, if you can. it’ll make you feel better.”

꒰ 13 ꒱ “i say this with all the love in my heart, but you look like shit.”

꒰ 14 ꒱ “they’re going to surround us. we need to get ready.”

꒰ 15 ꒱ “i need you to leave.”

꒰ 16 ꒱ “we can’t be seen together like this. not anymore.”

꒰ 17 ꒱ “it’s dangerous. i need you to know that before you agree.”

꒰ 18 ꒱ “it’s just one night- surely sharing a bed for that long won’t kill us.”

꒰ 19 ꒱ “it’s getting dark, we should think about heading back.”

꒰ 20 ꒱ “what have i told you about coming here?!”

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ an emotion

꒰ A ꒱ disdain

꒰ B ꒱ grief

꒰ C ꒱ ecstasy

꒰ D ꒱ disbelief

꒰ E ꒱ anxiety

꒰ F ꒱ contentment

꒰ G ꒱ drunkenness

꒰ H ꒱ enjoyment

꒰ I ꒱ confusion

꒰ J ꒱ fear

꒰ K ꒱ hunger

꒰ L ꒱ relief

꒰ M ꒱ distrust

꒰ N ꒱ fondness

꒰ O ꒱ delight

꒰ P ꒱ hurt

꒰ Q ꒱ love

꒰ R ꒱ sickness

꒰ S ꒱ exhaustion

꒰ T ꒱ betrayal

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ a setting

꒰ 𓆉 ꒱ the corner bed in a hospital ward

꒰ 𓅨 ꒱ a spare bedroom

꒰ 𓆣 ꒱ an alleyway behind a dive bar

꒰ 𓃰 ꒱ a mountainside shrouded in fog

꒰ 𓃗 ꒱ a skeevy motel just off the highway

꒰ 𓃱 ꒱ a barren industrial plant in the middle of nowhere

꒰ 𓃟 ꒱ the lush, indulgent foyer of a member’s only club

꒰ 𓆟 ꒱ the war room of a military blacksite

꒰ 𓆈 ꒱ the produce aisle of a 24/7 supermarket

꒰ 𓅫 ꒱ the bedside of someone who doesn’t want you there

꒰ 𓅟 ꒱ the walk-in fridge of a failing restaurant

꒰ 𓃵 ꒱ a rickety old barn’s hayloft

꒰ 𓃓 ꒱ at work, far later than you should be

꒰ 𓆌 ꒱ a stranger’s bed at dawn

꒰ �� ꒱ an airplane hanger

꒰ 𓅭 ꒱ a medical bay that stinks of antiseptic and fear

꒰ 𓆗 ꒱ the kitchen of a derelict house

꒰ 𓃢 ꒱ the dressing room of a luxury department store

꒰ 𓆧 ꒱ the place where grassy plains meet desert dunes

꒰ 𓃔 ꒱ a beach at low tide

[supernatural-bias]

🌻+that angel dude

You couldn't help but smile at seeing Aziraphale in a nightcap, looking like he had just walked right out of Ebenezer Scroge's wardrobe. When he said he was going to get ready for bed with you two, you didn't imagine it would be like this.

"You're adorable you know that right?" You grinned, reveling in the way the angels cheeks lit up with a light pink. Crowley chuckled from next to you, nodding his head

[museaway]

ask box trick-or-treat (fic writer edition)

Send an ask with "Trick or treat!" to the writer who reblogged this & you could receive a 3-sentence fic, drabble, headcanon, sneak-peek at a WIP, the last sentence they wrote, a new fic idea, random line from a fic, picture of their notebook, a deleted line they love, an idea for a sequel, something they're researching, behind-the-scenes info on a published fic, or something else!

happy halloween!

reblog to welcome trick-or-treaters to your inbox! 🕸️🦇

[rp-meme-glaceon]

💤 Peek into my Character's Dreams 💤

💭 - An ordinary dream

🎀 - A dream that left them feeling happy

☔ - A dream that left them feeling upset

🌈 - A dream from their childhood

🗯️ - An ordinary nightmare

🐛 - An intense nightmare that made them wake up in a cold sweat

⚰️ - A dream/nightmare that featured someone no longer in their life

🌡️ - A fever dream

📿 - A dream your character believes is prophetic

👁️‍🗨️ - A lucid dream

🛏️ - A dream that made your character want to go back to sleep so they could continue the dream

[cartwrong]

hi hi!!! i've just started getting into slow horses and i am absolutely enraptured by the pathetic failgirl loserguy that is river cartwright. i devoured all your ao3 fics in record time and now i'm here to humbly request prompt 9 from the drabble game!! :D

hi!!!!! so glad you enjoyed them! and yes, he really has rewired my brain. I hope you enjoy my 900+ word drabble (oops) that is a sequel to this drabble though you do not have to read to understand.

both from this drabble prompt game

9. "Easy, easy. You're okay, I've got you."

River trembled in the small closet he was huddled in. The men that had taken him were nearby he knew and he was running out of time before they would find him. There was a loud bang River recognised as a gunshot and he counted them off–1–2–3–4–then an eerie silence that was soon shattered by footsteps. They grew closer to his hiding spot and River gripped the broom handle he planned to use as a weapon tighter in his uninjured, but unfortunately weaker hand. His right arm hung useless at his side, mocking him in the darkness as agony lanced through his dislocated shoulder with every shaky breath. 

The door creaked open and River raised the broom ready to strike–

“A fucking broom?” Jackson Lamb asked, gun in one hand, lit cigarette in the other as he looked River up and down appraisingly. “You want to walk me through what you planned to do with that? Guess it’s better than a boot in a bag but not by much.”

“You came,” River rasped, dropping the broom unceremoniously. 

It clattered to the ground with a thunk, the sound echoing in the silent space dominated only by River’s erratic breathing. All the strength was draining from him quickly along with the adrenaline that had kept him conscious this long. His shoulder throbbed, his ribs ached and his head felt like it had been used as a punching bag and then scraped against a jagged sidewalk. And then stepped on by a horse. 

“Were you expecting the Queen?”  Lamb said, shoving his gun down the back of his pants.

River tried to think of a snappy response worthy of Lamb’s sarcasm but anything he thought of was drowned out by the hammers pounding in his head. 

“You came?” was all River managed when he tried again; this time spoken as more of a question than a statement.

“Of course I fucking came,” Lamb said, taking a step towards River, who took his own step forward, but his legs gave out as soon as he tried to move, Jackson catching him before he could hit the floor. River had just enough time to wonder if he was dreaming before Lamb was talking quietly to River as he slowly eased him to the floor. "Easy, easy. I've got you."

Lamb’s voice was quiet but solid, soothing and so un-Lamb like that River knew he must be suffering from a concussion. He helped River move to prop his back against a wall as he kneeled in front of him. 

“Are you hit?” Lamb asked, his hands roaming over River’s chest and stomach searching for bullet or knife wounds. 

River’s shirt was sticky and covered in blood, though he knew–or was relatively sure at the very least–it was from his hopefully not broken nose and the still sluggishly bleeding cut along his hairline. Some might’ve been from one of the guys that had grabbed him but he was less confident of that fact. He had been outnumbered and managed to best one of them to run far enough to hide, but he had received more damage than he had dolled out. 

“No,” River said, then hissed in pain as Lamb’s hand reached his injured shoulder. “But I think my shoulder is dislocated.”

Lamb tilted his head appraisingly, “Yeah I would fucking say so. Shoulders don’t normally look like that. Alright, hold on and breathe.”

He grabbed a hold of River’s arm with one hand, placing the cigarette between his lips before pressing down on River’s chest with the other. River’s concussed brain lagged behind, unsure what Lamb was doing until it was too late to object further.

“Wait! Wai–”

A scream cut off the rest of his pleas as Lamb reduced the dislocation with a grunt of his own. He sat back on his heels awkwardly, looking River over. Lamb pushed himself to his feet with a groan, before offering his hand to River. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here before any of their friends decide to join the party.”

River rolled his shoulder experimentally and then flexed his fingers as the feeling returned to them. The pain was still there but the throbbing had lowered to a smaller thrum that was at least manageable. He took Lamb’s hand with his good hand, unwilling to be pulled to his feet by the other arm just yet. Lamb was being remarkably concerned and caring but River didn’t trust it completely. 

He swayed slightly when Lamb pulled him up, reaching instinctually with his right hand to steady himself on the nearby wall and grimacing when pain shot through his shoulder, a whimper escaping through his lips despite River’s best attempt to clamp them together. 

"Easy, easy. You're okay, I've got you,” Lamb said, supportive arms wrapped around River’s waist. 

“You came,” River said again, pressing his good hand against Lamb’s face, hot breath mingling against his palm. 

“You’re lucky you have a head injury or I’d break that fucking hand,” Lamb mumbled.

River dropped his hand quickly, yeah, head injury, that explained it. 

“Thank you,” River said quietly as they shuffled together towards the exit. Lamb pushed the door open, the cold night air cool against River’s abused skin. 

“Yeah, well, I had an opening in my diary.”

Lamb’s car wasn’t far, but each step felt like a mile as River’s body vibrated in exhaustive pain. Opening the passenger door, Lamb eased River to the seat before lifting his feet into the car and closing the door. River rested his head against the window, closing his eyes as he heard Lamb walk around and sit in the driver’s seat, turning the car on. 

“River?” he said so quietly River was unsure he heard it. Dark tendrils of exhaustion and pain were dragging River quickly into unconsciousness as the car lurched into drive. “I’ll always come.”

[artemx746]

"You can't possibly expect me to not be mad" for court painter au hihihihi

(What am I gonna do? Send you prompts. Champ. XD)

Drabble ask game

Ethan stared at the painter, without Alabaster around, she seemed oddly quiet. Her hands fiddled with a paintbrush while she seemingly refused to look Ethan's way.

He needed to say something, this wasn't like silence with Alabaster, where it felt like the rise and fall of the tides, this felt strange like a sky too dark with too little stars and a moon far too dim for the time, odd and unnatural. He settled on "Are you settling in well, being back here?"

She jumped "Oh, uhm, yes! I have. Thank you."

"Have you spoken to your parents? I'm not all too familiar with most members of the queen's court but I believe I've seen your parents, have I not?"

Rachel wilted, she looked like Ethan had stabbed her through the chest with his sword. He should've kept his mouth shut. "You probably have."

The silence was back again and it felt even worse than last time.

Rachel took a deep breath. "Can I tell you something?" With a bit of hesitation, Ethan nodded. "My father wants me to marry Alabaster and I wouldn't really mind it if it weren't for his insistence on it. I don't want to be too rash but, since he's always been quite desperate for more power, I assume he may be trying to get more power through me."

Ethan felt a pit in his stomach, both at the idea of Rachel marrying Alabaster and the idea of Rachel's father using her for that. He seemed wealthy enough, there was no reason for him to need more.

Rachel noticed Ethan glaring, he didn't even know he was doing that, she looked worried. "Are you mad?"

"You can't expect me to not be mad," He paused at her distraught expression and realised she was asking if he was mad at her. "That isn't right of him to do."

She nodded. "I didn't think you of all people would get mad about this."

"Excuse me?"

"Uhm, well, I've just heard rumours, y'know, about your...mother." Ethan froze. "I'm not trying to accuse you or her of anything but–" She held her hand out "–if they have any truth to them, we've got each other."

There was a long moment of hesitation before Ethan shook her hand. "We've got each other." He repeated.

[theicarusconstellation]

hi astra 🤭

80. “how can you think I’m anything but hopelessly in love with you?” for jegulus??

kit!!

i couldn’t figure out how to end this one but

prompt: 80). “how can you think i’m anything but hopelessly in love with you?” // jegulus // sfw // words: 563

Regulus does not know how to hold things gently.

His fingers curl around a wrist the way they would the hilt of a dagger. All he has ever known is violence, the sharp slap of a hand against the cheek. How could his love possibly be any different?

So, whenever James attempts to hold his hand, he tugs his away. When strong arms wrap around his waist, he finds an excuse to leave their embrace in favor of emptiness. At first, he doesn’t think James notices his aversions. After a lifetime’s worth of tucking himself away, making himself as small as possible to avoid detection, Regulus assumed he was so good at what he does that there was no chance of James picking up on his fears.

However, this all changes one day on the shores of the Black Lake, where they sit, framed by trees, and skip rocks. Or, James skips rocks, and Regulus fails miserably.

“No, Reggie, it’s more of a flick — like you’re throwing a Muggle discus,” James lectures. Regulus just stares at him, befuddled, drawing a laugh out of the other boy. “Here, let me show you —“

James reaches out to position Regulus’ hand, but Regulus snatches his arm back before he can make contact. He flinches at how obvious he was; James is sure to despise him now.

The boy in question backs away, his shoulders sagging.

“Why do you do that?” James asks quietly after a moment’s pause. “Why do you pull away from me? Why will you never let me touch you?”

Regulus ducks his head in embarrassment, studying the smooth stone in his palm.

“I didn’t think you noticed.”

“Of course I noticed!” James exclaims, as if the suggestion that he hadn’t has wounded his honor. “Every time I get nearer than five feet away from you, you shrink away. Are you…Regulus are you afraid of me?”

A pained expression takes over Regulus’ face, and he rapidly shakes his head.

“No…no, James, never. I’m — I’m scared of me.”

The admission is like the pulling back of a curtain, allowing light in after decades of darkness. Where he expected to feel dread, Regulus feels…relief. He continues on,

“Growing up, touch has always been something to be feared, or if it was soft, it was double-edged. Then you come along all gentle and kind and I — I don’t think I can return the favor. I worry that if you touch me, all you’ll feel is violence.” He swallows hard, fighting to get this next part out. “I don’t want to be violent. I don’t want you to stop caring for me.”

James watches him, just studies him for a while after he speaks. He’s giving Regulus a moment to breathe, Regulus knows. A chance to ease his anxieties before the conversation continues.

After a few seconds have gone by, James extends his hand to place it on top of his. This time, Regulus doesn’t pull away.

“Regulus, how can you think I’m anything but hopelessly in love with you? How can you think that there is anything you could do to change that?” James asks in earnest, and Regulus’ heart damn near stops.

Regulus looks at their hands, at how James’ hand seems so at peace over his.

“You don’t…feel anything? Any madness?” he dares to inquire.

“The only thing I feel is grateful that I have you.”

[everythingwasalreadypicked]

Hihi drabble ask game where yall send me a line of dialogue and I write a short scene as an answer?

[wri0thesley]

hi sweet Nat, can i ask for size kink with Alhaitham pretty please? ♡

Anonymous asked: Hello! Hope you are having a wonderful day for the ask game how about alhaitham + size kink

great minds think alike....

Alhaitham's height is obvious to anybody who meets him; less obvious, though, is the breadth of him. One often writes it off as perhaps him wearing clothes that flatter him too much, being as it is difficult to look at him for too long without receiving a sardonic gaze back. After all, is he not the man who calls himself a 'feeble scholar' with only the barest uplift of the corner of his mouth?

You, though, are intimately acquainted with everything that Alhaitham has to offer.

With the big hands, stained with ink. With the muscles that ripple beneath his clothing. With the way he towers over you in both stature and in presence. With the size of him, everywhere that it might matter--

Oh, and you couldn't hide anything from him if you tried. He looks at you and he sees straight through you no matter how hard you work to look unruffled by how much of his hand covers your head when he absent-mindedly pats it on his way past. And at times like this--

"Hard to believe, isn't it?" He murmurs to you, where you're trapped beneath him, his shoulders casting a shadow over you on the bed. His muscular thighs have pressed your own softer, sweeter ones apart. One of his hands is big enough to encircle both of your wrists, and he uses that to his advantage, veins flexing in his forearms as he keeps those wrists pinioned above your head to ensure you feel utterly at his mercy.

You are warm; flushed, beads of sweat rolling down the nape of your neck, glistening in the valley between your chests. It is not only the warm Sumeru air (though that would be your excuse if he called you out) - but being trapped beneath him like this, being pinned and captured like a little rabbit who has found themselves run afoul of a bigger animal ready to devour them.

"H-hard to believe what?" You whisper out, your heart beating fast against your chest. He lets out a single laugh, as controlled as he always is even though you can see that his cheeks are flushed and you can feel the hot hardness of his cock where it rests against your inner thigh, mixing your slick and his precome.

"That something so tiny could really fit this in them," he says, as if it should be obvious; and to prove his point, he uses his free hand to lift the heavy shaft of his cock, to give it a slow, teasing pump. Even his own hands, so big that they make your breath catch, are not quite big enough to wrap around the full length of it.

Flushed and ruddy, leaking silvery bubbles of precome, a vein on the thickness of his shaft pulsing in time with his even breathing, you can barely stand that he's not putting it inside you. Helplessly, you arch your back, and he laughs again.

"Look," he murmurs, dropping his cock, voice husky. His hand delves now to between your own thighs; two long fingers used to push apart the sticky plump lips of your labia. You keen at the cool air hitting the swollen pearl of your clit, standing to attention, and Alhaitham swoops down to press a single kiss to the bud before he straightens up again. "You're even smaller here."

"A-Alhaitham," you whisper, your body shivering under the fleeting touch of the kiss. His lips are wet and shiny even from that brief shimmering moment of contact, and you think if he doesn't do something about the way your hole is clenching and pulsing around nothing you might just explode. "Please--"

"Oh," he says, with a small smile on his lips. "But I might break you in half."

Lazily, he lets his cock slap lightly against your sex, lets it get soaked in your wetness, lets you helplessly buck against it in the vain hope that you can get him to fuck you or at the very least get a modicum of friction going.

You don't get far. He's too strong, too big - you're helpless beneath the Scribe, at the mercy of whatever whims he decides to enact. You try to change tack.

"You're wasting time!" You tell him breathlessly, trying to appeal to his pragmatism. "You could be fucking me right now instead--"

He makes a considering noise in the back of his throat, regarding you through unfailingly calm emerald green eyes.

"I certainly wouldn't be enjoying myself if you weren't properly ready for me," he says, in the end, and his gaze flickers from your own needy face to the needier sight of your cunt, fluttering and pulsing and leaking all over his bedsheets.

"Hmm. No. I think I'll take my time," he decides, shifting, and you're once again struck by his size, by how much of you he can shelter beneath the oasis of his body. He leans down, his lips against the shell of your ear, and you shudder at the sensation of his breath against the sensitive skin. "After all. I'm a very patient man."

[graceful-starker]

Anachronism

(Imma be honest chief, I had to look this word up 😂)

~

Peter can’t help but think of the miniature lecture MJ had given him about the concept back when they first watched the Romeo and Juliet with Leonardo DiCaprio in it. 

Seeing Romeo pull out a gun instead of a sword and drive around in a car was so out of place it felt strangely humorous. 

That’s how Peter feels right now, staring at a Tony his own age. 

“Okay,” Tony says, quirking his lips up in a cocky smirk that does something to Peter. “Well I’m here now. I might as well enjoy my stay.”

Tony falls to his knees.