#ill write a drabble SOMEDAY

[deusfoundry]

my last thought before i fell asleep earlier was cedric leaving a hickey on a spot thats very visible and hard to cover up and also cedric being clingy as hell to his girlfriend when she's busy reading

[stanpinesdykewife]

if you are willing, could you write a ford/reader drabble w/ sleepy cuddles? it's all that's been on my mind recently. thank you so much!! <3 <3 <3

baby's first drabble!!! thank you for the cute request! under the cut:

sleepy cuddles ford/reader (gender-neutral) pre/during/post-canon/unspecified fluff, 482 words

Either Ford is the least sneaky person on the planet, or you sleep extremely light. Regardless, the amount of times he wakes you up every week is a problem.

You're jolted out of sleep when the door to your room opens, the creaky wood piercing through the white noise of your air conditioner. You're on your side, facing away from the door, but you know it's Ford. He shuts the door closed without minding the doorknob and approaches your bed with heavy footsteps. He even has the audacity to yawn, out loud, like an animal, before carefully folding the sheets back to slide in next to you. You wince when his glasses clatter onto the bedside table, and that’s enough to make you turn your head and confront him.

“You gonna stay in bed this time?” you ask, voice sharp, even through the drowsiness. Ford freezes for a moment, then breathes a guilty chuckle as he tugs the blanket over himself.

“I didn't realize you were awake,” he says, sounding just as tired. Your irritation dissipates the moment he shifts close enough to slide his arm over your waist. You hate that you're so easily calmed, so you pretend you're not.

“You woke me up,” you complain, but you can't restrain the sigh that leaves you when Ford hooks his arm over your hips and drags your body backwards a few inches. He runs hot, he always does, and you didn't even realize you were cold until just now, when the heat of him seeps into your back and sends a current of affection through your whole body. Your voice has no bite when you say, “Jerk.”

“I'll make it up to you,” Ford mutters, leaning up enough to press a kiss below your ear. He tugs at your sleep shirt, pushing the fabric up to your ribs so he can fit his hand beneath it. A dull spark of heat shoots through you, but you quickly realize Ford doesn't mean to do anything adult. He collapses into the pillow. Nuzzles the back of your head. You melt into the mattress. Ford's voice rumbles in his chest, against your spine, as he hums, “Mm. I'll make it up to you tomorrow.”

“I’ll pencil you in,” you mutter, relishing in his touch. Ford's palm is wide and heavy on your bare stomach, his thumb idly rubbing over your skin a few times before stilling. You sigh again, wiggling back into him, pressing your body snugly against his. Ford's breathing is rhythmic and soothing, and already you're being pulled under, your voice growing heavy. “Okay. Stop talking to me. Sleeping now.”

“Sleep well, dear,” Ford says kindly, a laugh creeping between his words. He presses a kiss to the back of your head. You're already asleep, but he knows you'll be delighted in the morning to find he plans to sleep in with you.

[minimujina]

just had a thought of reader who works with kids (either teaching or just childcare, however you imagine it would work better in inazuma) and kazuha

kazuha accidentally stumbles upon you and your kids playing, and he ends up getting roped in and being assigned to play the role of a pirate, because he tells so many stories of the sea and his travels with beidou. they even procure for him a fontaine-style pirate hat (because of course you have a costume bucket for your kids, and of course it has things from all different cultures over teyvat). and you, you are now the princess, and kazuha is the good pirate who saves the princess from the evil bandits! but the bandits board the ship and begin to close in on the pair, so the pirate must climb the mast with his princes in his arms, fending off the bandits with the very power of the wind! and when each bandit has been cast into the sea, the pirate floats back down to the deck with his princess, and they live happily ever after and get married :) and the bandits’ actors now reassign themselves the role of children again, and now you must play family. and the kids make kazuha promise to come play again the next time he is around, and also to take you out on a date (they ignore your mortified expression). kazuha assures them he will be around much more often :)

[yoo-joonghyuks-big-naturals]

I want to write an orv fic but I have no ideas

[d3adbr3inc3lls]

Hi, Lunar anon back at it again!

Can I please request Friede with a reader who loves embroidery and has a Milotic who reader often embroiders. Then after the Brave Olivine got struck down, reader makes projects to raise funds for it? I just thought this would be a neat idea.

Friede x Embroiderer!Reader | Drabble

Reader is selling their embroidery at a Sunday Market when Friede happens to stop by to give them something.

You still remember the day the Brave Asagi was struck down.

The pink haired girl - you think she was an admin, but you aren't quite sure - was being reckless and wanted to attack the Rayquaza, making her Glalie self destruct which caused it to fly back and hit your ship.

You've never felt more scared in your life.

Now, you're now sitting down at one of those Sunday Markets you've always went to as a kid, selling your embroidery.

Your Milotic is standing - do they even stand? Would sittting be a more appropriate word? - letting out happy cries to greet people as they pass by.

Finishing off your current 'piece', you tidy it up a bit before placing it down alongside the other embroidery, most of them being Milotic themed, with some others being the eeveelutions and Pikachus.

Two familiar hands land on the table, following by a chuckle as you glare up at a familiar man, Friede.

"How's it going?!"

Your Milotic let's out a cry to greet Friede and Cap - but mostly Cap - and your glare drops at the sight of his wide grin.

"It's going good," You reply with a smile tugging at your lips, you couldn't help but feel greatful for him stopping by. It was getting a bit lonely if you had to be honest.

"Cap and I were in the neighbourhood - well, we took a half hour flight on Charizard to get here- and we got you something!"

Lifting his hands from your stand, Friede grabs something from a leather bag that he had brought alongside him and dropped a brown paper bag was dropped infront of you. His smile was horribly masked behind a "neutral" face.

Opening the bag up, you recognise the smell before you see it.

Friede had gone out of his way to get takeout of your favourite restaurant for you.

"F-Freide, you didn't have to!" You protest, but it fell on deaf ears as Freide looked at your Embrodery. There was a curious spark in his gaze as he looks over your work.

Picking one of many Milotic pieces you've made, his eyes meet yours and the excited spark in his gaze changes to a soft and gentle one.

"This is awesome. You know, you should create something for the Rising Volt Tacklers someday,"

-

A/N: Welcome back Lunar anon !!! Nice to see a familiar name. Sorry this was a bit short, kinda fell ill whilst writing it on the 16th-17th, but I still wanted to finish this in time for Wednsday,

[tyriq-edits]

Update! Asks are open

Hey everyone! Mental illness (Depression etc.) is still kicking my ass making it very difficult to focus on sitting down and actively writing any fanfics or drabbles right now. I will get them written SOMEDAY but with my current mental health i do not know when this will be. So in order to not keep y’all starving too long I am opening up my inbox to everyone who is interested in one of my AU and wishes to send me questions, or personal HCs or whatever regarding one of my AUs

The AUs I am currently working on include

In the Plain of Nysa (a Vashwood Greek Mythology AU)

The Consort of Peace (A Megop Imperial China AU)

Journey to the Past (A Megop Anastasia AU)

Heaven’s Prayer (Megop and Beeblade Dragon Quest IX AU)

[rhubarbrambles]

yes im one of like. 3 shivrina (shiver/marina) shippers. yes ill post this anyway. it's an old drabble that went with another written by my gf (from marina's perspective)

this is from shiver's perspective, wishing for a world they'll never have

i need to write a fic abt them someday..

[01131974]

here's that dale drabble i was talking about! this is his POV, and it's all in his mind, his thoughts. this takes place at the hardware store. warning for creepy behavior on dale's part. i tried to emphasize how gross this guy really is. let me know if i should write more stuff like this!

there's no one in the store. wonderful, perfect. i prayed for this. he always listens. i dont want anyone seeing me like this. i feel like such a slob. didn't have time to do my makeup. i hope the guy at the counter doesn't look at me.

oh. he's not working the counter today. it's her, his venomous little daughter. my hair obscured my view of her when i walked in. aw, i would've said good day to her, if i knew it was her. she is staring at me while i shop. is she leering at me? filthy girl. ill pretend i dont notice. stare all you want, little angel...

i'm at the counter now. i'm nervous. shes looking up at me. will that be all, sir? oh, sir. what a little nymph she is. how do i make her laugh?

cuckoo. cuckoo. cuckoo. yeah. that used to make her laugh. hark the herald angel sings. this teenybopper almost looks like her, when she was her age. almost. just barely, just enough to make me sweat. to make my mind race. i can feel my breathing getting labored.

her downy limbs, her pursed lips. her hair, her pretty hair, oh, i wish i could just cut it all off, it'd be so perfect for my dolls. oh, i should make a doll of her. her birthday. oh, could you imagine? i just have to ask her. there's no harm in it. it's not dirty. her daddy isn't here to stop me --

ah. it seems like he is, actually. just out of sight, in the back room. 'that gross guy is back again'? she's looking up at me. so much disgust. you're lucky your daddy is here to protect you, little angel. god knows what i'd do. i'd rip your wings right off your back if i could. i'd break your halo in half.

i'm being ushered out by her daddy now. i'll just leave. fine. whatever. i try to make nice and everyone rejects it. ohh, the man downstairs will make those two ingrates twist and burn in hell for what they've done to me. someday. i'm sulking in the car now.

'daddy, that gross guy is back again!'

daddy, mommy, unmake me, save me. how nice is it to be able to call out for your father to come save you? i scream so loud i can feel my throat tear. it's not fair. it's just not fair.

[atomra]

i hate when im close to my period because i have one day like this where im just extra depressed and uncomfortable with everything physically and mentally. I get so restless too and its such a strain because i cant get myself to focus on anything. Im glad i realized it early in the day, but its still so exhausting. I even took a three hour nap lmao

im SO anxious about everything ever... i just wanna write about alucard, neuro, or atom or something lmao

I gotta go to bed... 😔

(maybe someday ill start writing short drabbles/hcs for here??? i actually used to do that on my other account lol)

[purplebass]

At Least The Costume Fits / Thomastair

Another Thomastair Christmas drabble, something @alastairstom requested. Alastair dressing as Santa Claus to surprise Zachary 💜

Words: 495 Rating: G Read on A03

“At least the costume fits,” Thomas said, trying to hide a giggle as he gazed at his partner wearing a Santa Claus costume. “How come this was at the London Institute?”

Alastair looked down at his clothes and grunted. It is for a good cause, he kept telling himself. “Apparently, according to Jesse, this belonged to Will Herondale. He used to wear this for his children and nephews at their annual Christmas party. Don’t you remember, Tom?”

Thomas scratched the back of his head. “Honestly,” he said, “No. I think I would hardly forget it if I had seen it,” he giggled. “Maybe it was around the time I was sick and I rarely left home.”

Alastair nodded and thought about the odds of finding himself in Will Herondale’s Santa costume. “Can you fix my beard?” he turned his head to his partner, who was still appraising his look. “By the angel, it’s itchy.” 

“That’s because you are moving,” Thomas asserted. “Be still.” He tried to adjust the white cloud of wool the best he could. When he was done, he cupped Alastair’s face between his palms and grinned widely. 

“Do I look like an idiot?” Alastair wondered, his forehead creasing. 

He brushed his lips quickly over his. “You look like a good older brother,” he said. “He’s going to be so happy when he sees you.”

“Or scared for the rest of his life,” he sneered. “Come on.”

They trudged silently through the narrow corridors of Cirenworth headed to Zachary’s room. His family had planned to stay in Cornwall Gardens, but Zachary fell ill and his mother didn’t want to risk it. Thomas suggested they visit Devon instead, and surprise his little brother by dressing as Santa Claus. 

Thomas brushed his back to encourage him. He opened the door, while Alastair stayed by the wall. “Hi, Zachary. Someone is here to see you. Do you want to meet him?”

Thomas gestured to Alastair to get in. His steps were slow. He was impersonating an old man, after all. Or was trying to.

“Do you know about Santa Claus?” he asked, kneeling by the bed.

“Yes! You told me about him,” he said, and Alastair huffed behind his fake beard. Smart kid.

“I came from the North Pole just for you,” he continued. “Just to give you this.”

Zachary grabbed the box with the toy and opened it. “I like it,” he said giddily. “Thank you, Alastair. I love you.”

“I’m not –” he began, but the child was distracted by the toy. “I’m glad you liked it,” he passed a hand through his hair. His forehead wasn’t too warm, and it was a good sign. “I love you too.”

His brother gazed up at him. “Can you stay with me?” 

“As long as you want, Zachary,” he smiled. “Ho, ho, ho,” he imitated Santa’s laugh.

Thomas and Zachary laughed in response. Alastair still felt embarrassed, but at least he had made his little brother happy.

***

I feel like Will Herondale totally used to dress up as Santa to play with his children and nephews. Someday he's going to pass this tradition down to someone else, but that's material for another story. ;)

I hope you like this <3 I wanted to write more, but I wanted to keep the drabble length.

[simpjaes]

hey hon this is the anon that sent in that first ask about jake and two girls 🤝 this is late but i did read what you had to say about hyung line with 2 girls and like. holy shit thank u for ur service. honestly when u replied to my ask the last few sentences you wrote about it already had me going crazy so the whole post was an absolute treat!

alsooo if u don’t mind i could be a more regular anon with like an emoji or smt? i don’t rly have a preference u could literally give me 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 if u wanna be very on the nose (is that the phrase)

you woke something up within my readers and allowed me to write down lil drabbles of something i been thinking about for a long time tbh. maybe someday a real fic will come out of it :D after all, especially for jake, im still obsessed with the idea of him fucking forward between two pretty girlies kissing sdjhfjsdhfks

and ofc you can be a regular anon! ill put ur emoji on the list now :D

[sunakore]

#10 (awesome number)

hello. my writing is dogshit today, but its 4 am so idrc.

should i really make a tag

note:

aelia's an amazing ally lol. she doesnt know what neopronouns are. i dont actually know if most people learn about this early on or not, cause i first found out from bitlife when i was 9 or 10. so we'll just say she doesnt really. but dont worry she does learn about them from marelle and shes cool with jt :D ill probably make a drabble on that someday if i rememebr to. i might have to do a bit more research tho. idk what questions people think or ask when they find out about neopronouns, cause when i did i was just like "oh okay cool" so yeah.

also! this is a oneshot of when aelia first arrived. i didnt know what to make, its late and im tired and out of ideas, so i did this. she was in jail beforehand, and did training for lathuri hunting while serving time.

also genuinelt sorryif my writing is ass. using a chat bot for once in 2746875935 years changes my writing style for some reason so i write like im talking to a stupid fucking AI who needs everything spelt out for it. i'll read tomorrow lol. and im just creatively constipated? idk words rn. thats life.

-

Two guards escorted Aelia up the stairs, the ends of their guns digging into her back. Every step she made was cautious and planned. The handcuffs tightened around her wrists were a sharp cold that made her want to squirm—but she didn't, she kept moving.

She had learned, with more than enough kicks and shocks, that she couldn't step out of line. She had to tread the line very carefully. If not, they would pull the trigger. They most certainly would, and there wouldn't be a glint of empathy in their eyes of stone. To them, it would be like shooting a stray deer. A sport.

One of the guards swung open the front door, and she was met with swirls of sounds and smells. The smell reminded her of the honey her mom dropped in most of her mixes. A few voices bounced off the walls. She was taken through a doorway, and heads turned to look at her. 

A woman spoke up. She sat on the table, legs crossed and gaze narrowed. As if there was something to be suspicious of. "We were never told we had another one," she said, confusion evident in her tone. One of the guards rolled his eyes.

"Bring it up with the boss. Not our problem," he said, and then shoved Aelia through the door. She swayed on her feet before collecting herself, and turned to the guard with a harsh glare. 

He flashed a cold smile. Did he even care how he treated her? She was a human too. She didn't ask to be a criminal, or a stupid hunter. It never seemed to be her choice anymore. A guard yanked her by the chain of her cuffs and fished a key from his pocket. The cuffs loosened with a satisfied click, and she could move her arms again.

Aelia wanted to slap both of them in the face. Her fingers curled into fists. They could easily push her to the ground and 'neutralize' her. She didn't care. The guards simply walked at the door, chattering about the filth they had to deal with before she had the chance.

She stood there for a moment. She was told how she would be given a place to stay, how she would have to work with other hunters. But she didn't expect it to be so...normal. Somehow, the beige-colored walls were the warmest thing she'd seen in months. 

Back in her cell, it was cold. Merciless, actually. A bunch of wild animals fighting for the single animal carcass, constantly lunging at each other in a fight between no-one. When she went to sleep, the bed would press harder against her skin than the guns did, leaving her with unbearable aches the next morning.

The food looked like it had been dug from a stable. White light danced across white walls, white floors, white everything. The only thing that would shine was the golden gleam of the guards' armor, but it wasn't a kind gleam. To her, it felt like a weapon more than defense.

The people were cold. The superiors were cold. Everything was so, so cold.

A voice shook her out of her thoughts. "Are you alright?" She reluctantly turned, and was met with eyes staring down right to her soul. Aelia quickly looked away, instead focusing on a picture hung on the wall. Alright? What kind of question was that? Of course she wasn't alright. She didn't think she ever would be.

Aelia nodded. "Fine," she mumbled, suddenly unsure of what to say. These weren't people she had to obey or avoid. She had forgotten how much she wasn't used to interacting with others. A jolt of anxiety rushed through her veins. It almost felt funny, that talking to someone normally had become foreign territory.

They're criminals, she reminded herself. No better than her. Just her teammates. If they would talk, hopefully it would just be whatever nightmare mission their superiors wanted to throw them into. Like feeding them to wolves. 

They stared at her for a beat longer, and she wondered why they were looking at her like that. She could feel the tension stirring in the air. Maybe they didn't welcome newcomers. That meant there couldn't be too many things to adjust to, then. 

One of them raised an eyebrow in what almost seemed like amusement. A spark lit in his dark, almost coal-black eyes. Aelia bristled. "What?" she snapped, and instantly shut her mouth. She couldn't afford to be rude right now—they would hate her, or worse. He just shrugged in response.

"Nothing," he said. Aelia couldn't help but feel like it was more than nothing. He waved a flippant hand, gesturing to an empty seat beside him. "Have a seat. I'll give you a rundown or whatever—Marelle, I smell smoke." Marelle, the one at the stove, jumped out of her daze and quickly checked the food on the pan.

Aelia glared at him, before slinking over to sit down. The woman who had first spoken tried not to meet her gaze. Her hair particularly stood out, because it was dark at the roots but faded into a muted purple. Her build was brawny enough to make Aelia shrink in her chair. Almost like her jailmates, but with a kindle of kindness on her face that was hard to miss. 

Aelia knew by now that compassion was a ruse. And wasn't that just stupid? Maybe she would be genuinely kind to her, but it would seem like nothing but a trap. Like a timebomb just waiting to go off. Nobody was out to get her here, presumably, but she still felt as if they were waiting for a perfect opportunity.

She didn't want to be here. But here was better than there. So she swallowed and bundled up her courage. "This is...a lot different than—"

"—what you expected?" the guy finished. "Yeah, everyone thinks that. It's so different, right? I thought it'd be less freeing. But open your eyes," he took a sip from his coffee, "and you'll realize that this is the best offer you'll get. So make good use of it. You'll figure out how everything works—sure our superiors told you mostly everything, anyways."

Aelia didn't respond. She didn't know how to feel about that. On one hand, he was right, this was the best she could ask for from her superiors. On the other, she could be at home right now, listening to her mother hum as she tended to her flowers. She didn't want to figure out how everything worked.

"What's your name?" she asked, but she doubted it really mattered.

"Santez."

"I'm Aelia."

"Hm," Santez hummed. He looked at the woman, who just buried her face into her phone. He tapped her shoulder. "You could be a little nicer, you know." Aelia could tell she resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Because you have a PhD in that. Right." She sighed. "My name's Tiunet. We all kinda have weird names, you know?" She outstretched a hand, and Aelia met to shake it. The handshake was clumsy and awkward, and she pulled away.

"And that's Marelle." Santez pointed towards the woman in question, who was opening the front window to allow smoke to pour out. Should she really be cooking at the kitchen? Aelia wondered if she was just the best option they had. If so...that must've been pitiful. Santez leaned in closer. "She caused a fire yesterday," he said, as if to help her case.

"...Oh." Aelia's brows furrowed together. "Is she the only one who can cook?"

"Nah," Santez muttered. "Nalani is just sick. He's been in his bed all day, the poor Victorian child." 

"He's a great cook," Tiunet interjected. She went back to scrolling on her phone, only half paying attention to the weak conversation at hand. "Marelle? Not so much. Ze's trying zir best though. Give her some credit."

..Ze? Zir? Was that supposed to be a replacement of her? Or was Marelle not even a girl? It felt invasive to ask, so she didn't. "Uh, do I have a room?"

Santez smiled, but it felt empty. Maybe he didn't want to bother with her questions. It felt impossible to figure it out with this guy. "Any one that's empty," he said. "Down that hall, to the right. There's a bunch of rooms there. Pick one."

"Thanks." She pushed her chair back, the wood scraping against the floor, and practically bolted down the hall without another word. Nobody tried to stop her. Aelia wanted to bury her face in a pillow about now, maybe never talk to them again from how awkward it felt.

Great first meeting! 0 stars. This was going to turn into hell.

[preciouslandmermaid]

I love writing Richie sdlkfjsdlfjsd he’s so fun to get into the headspace for.

ultimate malewife. love him. <3

[drabbles-of-writing]

Fun Facts #9

While King became far friendlier with Amity within the first year, he always said he would never forgive her for squashing his cupcake. Also, you know, causing a witches duel that nearly got him impaled (even though Amity insists that last one is Eda’s fault). It was something he’d always bring up to get what he wanted, even if it didn’t always work. 

Anyway, he didn’t officially ‘forgive’ her until the end of those four years, when nobody knew if they’d see each other in the morning, if they’d have empty chairs, if they’d have rooms they’d need to clean, if they’d blink and there would be nothing but an empty blackness. Amity had a suspicion his forgiveness was about more than a mistake she made at fourteen. But then again, this was King. It was best to take things seriously, because he certainly did.

[yikesharringrove]

Part 3 to Tattoo artist Billy/Masochist Steve which accidentally became a BDSM au whoops.

1 / 2 (smut)

This has mentions of smut, and talks about some BDSM stuff.

They began doing scenes once every few weeks.

Billy wanted to give Steve plenty of time between each scene for any bruises to heal, and for his psyche to return to normal. But Steve would crave the release it gave him, the full body exhale he got to experience for a few hours.

Sometimes it had nothing to do with sexual release, their scenes didn’t always end with Billy buried inside Steve, and sometimes Steve was just feeling too overwhelmed, too anxious about something, would bend over for Billy’s paddle, and just feel better.

Billy also liked to hang out with him outside of scenes, said he wanted to have a trusting relationship with him, said it made for better BDSM, to know, to like your partner, said it made it easier to tap out if you knew the person would respect it, if you knew what kind of person they were.

During their time doing scenes, Billy introduced him to more and more of the world. They tried different ways to bind Steve, he found he loved being gagged, Billy explain to snap his fingers if he needed to tap out. They had tried different toys, Billy stuffing Steve with a prostate massager, slapping at his dick with a riding crop until he came all over himself. They had played with impact, punches and hits, and with the candle wax Billy would drip all over his sensitive zones.

And the dirty talk.

Billy was a fucking artist with his words, could make Steve feel like he was the best little slut in the place. Made him feel loved while he called him a pathetic little bitch.

But then-

Billy had Steve tied up completely. One leg hiked up, his thigh bound to his chest, the other just skimming the floor. Billy was standing behind him, one hand on his jaw, the other trailing slowly over his cock.

It had been a good scene.

Steve had come to Billy after getting in a fight with his parents, the phone call coming in early this morning. They reminded him that there was a position open in his father’s firm if he wanted to give up this little teaching pipe dream and do something worthwhile with his life. Steve had argued it wasn’t a little pipe dream, only to be met with his father notifying him that he’s useless.

He needed to just, not think.

So, Billy had strung him up, had slapped him a few times, fingered him slowly. Steve was blindfolded, panting as Billy touched him, flicked at the clothespins dotting his torso.

“I don’t think you deserve to get fucked, Princess. You’ve been so whiny today, so needy.” he hit one of the clothespins, made him cry out. “But your sloppy little hole is all you’re good for.”

The words started to sour, bouncing around in Steve’s head, mingling with the ones hie father had said.

“You’re just a little toy, absolutely useless unless I’m-”

“Demogorgon, demogorgon.” Billy stepped back. He whipped the blindfold off.

“Stevie, I’m going to untie you now. We’re finished for today. Just keep breathing. I’ll get you out.” Billy untied the leg that was hiked up, opening the clothespins covering him gently. He untied him completely, practiced hands making quick work of the binds. He pet through Steve’s hair as he brought him to the bed, settling down with Steve draped over him.

“Can I ask you why you used your word?”

“I just, my dad calls me, calls me useless. Said it on the phone today. I just, I’m fine with the degradation stuff, but that, that was just,” he trailed off.

“Too close to home?” Billy’s hand warm on his back, rubbing gentle circles.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, Pretty Boy. I’m so sorry. We’ll have to talk about words that are off limits, then. Not right now, just focus on yourself right now.” He tugged a hand through Steve’s hair.

“Everything was good until then. I’m sorry we had to stop.”

“Baby, never apologize for using your safeword. It’s so important to me that you’re comfortable and enjoying our scenes. Like I said the first time, I don’t care at all if you need to stop. You and I are partners in this.” Billy tugged the blanket up over them.

[blotspare]

“You need to —” Piper’s hand waves, magic arcing out from the pen within it and forming a barrier between them at the magic attacking them — it cracks like glass upon impact, almost shattering, and Piper winces, teeth gritting, “— go!  I can’t keep this up for long!”

“I’m not leaving you!” Yuu shouts back, voice cracking.

“You don’t have magic!  You’re of no fucking use right now!” The second year snaps back, the barrier dissolving.  The fae they’re fighting — it’s not even a fight, Yuu thinks with a growl, THEY’RE PLAYING WITH THEM, like testing toys before you take them — laughs loudly, mockingly impressed.  “I can’t protect us both, and I can’t hold back against this prick for long!  Neither of us are that strong!”

“But —”

“I’m not being a hero!”  The pen waves and Yuu tries not to pay attention to how dark the gem is getting.  A sigil appears under Piper’s feet, glowing bright, and is then gone.  “I’m not doing this for you.  I’m doing this for Lilia!”

“Come on, children,” the fae laughs out, and both of their heads whip to see them.  Yuu scowls.  All this to provoke Lilia.  Yuu will never understand the fucking fae.  “At least put up an honest fight!”

“Oh, I fully fucking intend to,” The mage growls beneath their breath, gaze returning to Yuu only briefly as they drop to a crouch, animal - like, ready to strike.  “Yuu.  Listen to me.  We’re losing this fight.  The only difference is whether both of us are here to lose it, and it doesn’t do Lilia any good to have to rescue —” they wince at the word, as though it hurts, “— both of us.”

Yuu’s stubbornness demands they lie, demands they try.  “We can still —”

“We both know we can’t.  I’m not strong enough, and neither are you.”  Magic curls around Piper’s hands and arms.  “You need to run and find Lilia.  Okay?”  They grin something sharp and cut off Yuu’s argument before it can get past their teeth.  “You wanna be helpful, prefect?  You wanna be the savior again?”  It’s Yuu’s turn to wince.  “This is how you’re useful.  By letting me buy you enough time to get somebody that can actually help.”

Leaving them feels sick and wrong, because Yuu is supposed to be the one that solves problems, that saved — but they know that Piper is right.  Without magic, they’re useless in this fight.  They’re useless — all they can do is —

But there’s no time for this kind of self - flagellation; every second spent on their self - pity is a second Piper hurts.  Yuu’s lips thin, and they off a terse nod.  Piper grins when Yuu takes off running.  The fae’s eyes follow them, lips curving as focus shifts entirely to the human.

“Running away?  No, no, that won’t do at all.”

Yuu lets out a shout when the fae moves, lightning fast, towards them — and another when Piper manifests between them.  

“Oh, no you DON’T!”

Their teeth grit, and they let forth of a burst of magic that has the other flying back.  They wince, almost fall down to a knee.

“Pearce —”

“Go!”

Yuu’s expression twists into something screaming, but they turn on their heel and bolt nevertheless.  Piper stands properly, body shaking, pen spinning in their hand.  Not much magic left before they overblot, and that they can’t afford.  And this kind of magic puts too much strain on their body to maintain it for long periods, anyway; they’re not entirely sure they didn’t fracture their ankles with that maneuver just now — flooding a body part with magic and translating that into strength or speed.

Luckily, they don’t have to keep this up for long.  Just gotta buy the prefect time enough that this prick gives up, accepts that taking one is better than taking zero.

Their opponent’s grin is visible even from this distance.  “I hate heroism.”

“Lucky for you, I just sent the hero running,” Piper replies coolly, smiling something of their own.  They drop back to a crouch, magic collecting at the soles of their feet.  “Now we can play.”

“I hope you put up a more impressive fight without your friend.  I’m dying to know what has him interested enough to behave as he does.”

“Lucky Lilia’s adopted some kids outside the court, huh?  Tough for you to fulfill your weird fantasies for him if your only option is kidnap the crown prince.”  Their grin sharpens when that seems to annoy him.  “What?  Pissy that I pointed out your hard - on?”

Oh — Piper barely has time to cross their arms over their chest when the other appears in front of them, fist pulled back — Piper flies this time, slamming into a wall with a groan.  They fall forward and hit the ground, spitting blood when they catch themselves on their elbows, vision fading briefly at the edges.  The thought has them grinning, though : their stupid mouth, always getting them into trouble.

“If you’re going to put on such a disappointing show, maybe I’ll go catch the other one?”

Piper’s head whips up; they push themselves off the wall and ground and reach the other’s side too quickly, legs fracturing, hand curling in the other’s collar.  

This won’t be the first fight Piper can’t win.  But like hell if they’re letting them take Yuu, too.

They spit blood on his face and then flood their free arm with enough magic to make sure that the punch they deliver to his gut hurts.  “Oh, we’re not through yet, fucker.”