#inbox: feedback.

[supersources]

hi! as a fellow brazilian i wanted to say, thank you so much for making your resources completely free!! it's so incredibly generous and i hope you get lots of donations from those that can afford to donate

oiii! please, ik how it feels to look for resources only to find everything behind a paywall in dollars that are way out of budget for us and for that reason alone you'll never find a resource of mine that you'll only be able to get if you pay. and honestly at the risk of sounding cheesy, these kind words are payment enough. <3

[a2zillustration]

Hello! For the "Get to know my tav" post: what's Croissants favorite spell/cantrip?

This one was asked twice! First answer from the get to know your tav list of questions. As always, feel free to ask more if you want!

[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

[thenegoteator]

[imrllytootiredforthis]

Hey I’m new to your blog! And I love your writing so so much! 🫶🏻 i saw that you don’t write dom and I was just wondering if I can request a felix fluffy/smut imagine where you’re used to felix being the confident one in the relationship when it comes to skin ship but one day you surprise him by being dominating and he gets so turned on and weak. Thank youuuu

In Denial~Teaser

Pair: Sub!Lee Felix x dom!reader

Summary: Ever since you've started dating Felix he's denied that he wants to be cared of, told you that he's more dominant. Well what happens when one day you take him by surprise and tell him that you're a dom?

Warnings: So far? just imagining pegging and a kink for titles (mommy, daddy or master)

Word Count: 600 (for the teaser)

A/N: I'm not done this one yet but figured that I'd upload a teaser, if you wanna be tagged in the finished product leave a comment or message me

It’s been so hard.

So hard because Felix is such a sweetheart. Such a sweet little innocent baby. 

The way he looks up with you, eyes wide with curiosity, how he sits on the bed and begs oh-so whiny for you to come and cuddle him.

All you’ve wanted to do for months. Ever since you’ve started dating him, ever since his cute freckled ass crash landed into your life like a nuclear bomb, turning everything upside down.

All you’ve ever wanted to do since then is rail him into the sheets. Pound into him hard until he’s crying, moaning, gripping the sheets like a lifeline, toes curling as his heart beats frantically in his chest.

But Felix isn’t like anyone else you’ve dated before.

Felix likes to think he’s in charge.

Likes to think that he’s the one shoving you face first into the sheets when he asks to be the big spoon.

He likes to think he isn’t as submissive as he really is.

And it’s not that you’d mind if he really was dominant or even the fact that he likes to take more charge right now. 

In fact, you like the feeling of him curled up around you. You like when he’s the one to grab your hand when you’re walking out in public and he takes more of the lead.

It’s nothing that you’ve been in a relationship like in a long time. You prefer people who let you take the lead, in and out of the bedroom. But you don’t mind that Felix does it. You haven’t slept together yet so that’s still wide open.

No, you don’t mind that he likes to take charge.

You do mind however, that he lies to you.

Lies to you like you haven’t listened from the next room as he masturbates in the bedroom, whining out pleas and begs for mommy, for master, for daddy, that along with your name of course.

Like he doesn’t shudder and shiver, turning a brilliant shade of pink when you whisper warnings into his ear to listen or stop.

Like you didn’t find porn on the browser history of his laptop of subby boys being punished.

You don’t mind that he’s different from your past relationships but you do mind that he’s lying and hiding things from you.

Because unlike the people you’ve dated before, he doesn’t want to admit that he likes it when you’re the big spoon or when you call him a good boy.

And so that’s what’s stopped you from playing out a scenario of shoving him face ass up onto the kitchen table when he does warmup stretches for dance. 

It’s almost as if he does it purposely even, slowly and languidly folding his body nearly in half, reaching to touch his toes while his ass sticks up in the air.

There is nothing else you want more in this very moment.

But he rolls his eyes when you call him baby boy, trying to fight the blush working up his face that works as a dead giveaway.

And he vehemently denies that he liked it when he woke up with you spooning him. Acting as if you didn’t catch him nearly purring seconds before, snuggling into your warmth deeper and letting out a soft sigh, something sounding suspiciously like mommy escaping his tired lips.

And so you’d do nothing, simply watching the way he slightly shook his butt in the air, swaying before he stood back up to his full height.

Why did he have to be so irresistible?

[redwinterroses]

Hi.

Click here. Fill out the feedback form. Try to refrain from too many all-caps and obscenities, but if you want to complain about this site and their "feature updates" do it here where there's a chance someone might actually see.

Don't @staff, they literally don't see those tags. Don't just post /neg and maintag it (though by all means, do that too). Fill out this form.

Go to your app store and leave a 1-star review. Tell them why. Warn people from downloading the app because it crashes your phone, makes it hotter than the surface of the sun, takes up WAY too much memory, and isn't responsive half the time.

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Anyway I'm pinning this post for a while so if you want to come back and fill out the feedback form on a daily basis for a bit, it should be easy to find.

[jizzlords]

can I interest anyone in inbox stuff? if u want Ozzie to pass through 👉🏽👈🏽 multis may wanna specify,, help me out lol * I'm sending Ozzie to u!!

[foursaints]

"and if barty takes a few more vials of blood than medically necessary it’s for evan’s own good, because he needed someone to make him settle down anyway."

oh my god you're sick in the head (i literally jerked off to the thought of this line)

😦 ANON WTF........... haha no just kidding im glad you enjoyed it i guess. i love the idea that you were having such a conceptual wank experience though. anon has been lost in the realm of signs & signifiers and forgotten what they Signify

[shmeddieshmunson]

The Routine

Eddie Munson x Transmasc!Reader, 18+, cute but then smut, smoking, drinking, making out, fingering, Eddie x You +"good boy"

Smut one-shot ~3k words, minors do not interact

Knock knock knock-knock-knock! You drummed rhythmically on the door with your knuckles.

You scanned the edge of the pool of yellow light that washed over you and the front porch of Eddie’s trailer. Moths and mosquitos flitted around. The park was calm, but you could hear the muffled sound of music and voices from neighboring trailers. Could see vague movement in some of the lit windows behind the curtains.

The warm summer breeze carried away the smoke from the cigarette that hung between your lips, and you could hear the crickets, cicadas, and frogs.

Knock knock! You heard from the other side of the door before it swung open. You whip your head forwards again and come to attention.

“What do you want, punk?” Eddie spits, locking his hip and obscuring the doorway, his voice almost sing-songy with his faux toughness. He’s backlit by the warm lights inside, face highlighted yellow with dramatic shadows. You grin and pull the cigarette from your lips, but he plucks it from your hands and takes a drag before you can even lower your arm fully.

Slightly slack jawed and awkward, you just kind of freeze there in awe, and he cocks an eyebrow at you. “Well??” he demands, his mouth starting to curve upwards. 

“I uh…” you clear your throat, “I’m here to see a guy… about a thing...” There’s a brief pause that feels longer than it is as he exhales the smoke in his mouth. “C’mere–” you lean forward quickly and hook your finger into one of his belt loops, and stuff the other into his hair, pulling him into you for a hard kiss. He laughs into your mouth, finally cracking and relaxing, leaning the front of his body into yours.

“That was really the best you could come up with?” He teases you as he takes a step back, "A guy about a thing?" He moves quickly like he’s going to punch you in the gut, “uhn!” he exclaims playfully, his fist stopping jerkily before it connects, and recoiling. Then he’s grabbing your hand and pulling you indoors with him. 

“Look, I came here to smoke and to make out, not to start writing our comedy show,” you quip back sarcastically.

He walks across the room and into the kitchen and pulls open the fridge door, tongue absentmindedly sticking out between his smiling teeth. 

The trailer already has a smoky haze to it, and you plop down on the worn but comfortable brown couch, beginning the routine you two have developed together over the months. You reach into your jacket’s chest pocket and pull out a small hand painted tin, which you lovingly refer to as your Go Pack. Eddie had gifted it to you for your last birthday, and intricately decorated it with snakes and dice, as well as your initials. 

You run your thumb over the slightly raised design, then pop it open and pull out the spliff that you already have rolled for the two of you. Eddie walks over to the couch with two beer bottles clinking together in one of his hands, and an ashtray in the other. You look up at him and there is a flicker in both of your eyes as they meet, and you flash him a brilliant smile. He sets everything on the small coffee table.

“Care to do the honors?” You ask, head tilted up, looking at him. You motion the spliff and lighter you’re holding towards him.

“Ooo, don’t mind if I do,” he takes them and bounces himself down on the couch, thigh pressed up against yours. The lighter flicks to life and lights up his face as he settles into your side and you rest your arm on the back of the couch behind him. His cheeks hollow around the joint as he sucks in to spark it, and you’re taking in all the details of his soft and angular face. 

He looks at you and raises his eyebrows slightly before billowing a puff of smoke between you. You laugh lightly through your nose, and take the joint from him, your fingers brushing his on the filter. 

It’s his turn to stare as you inhale, but you pretend you don’t notice.

“You always look so hot when you smoke,” he says with a lowered voice, eyes scanning from your lips to your eyes and down again. You let a smug smile creep onto your face and exhale the smoke out of your nose. You take another drag, but instead of passing the spliff you hold it away and lean your face towards Eddie’s. He knows that cue and meets you halfway, parted lips meeting yours as you blow the smoke into his mouth while he inhales, ending it with a flit of your tongue and soft open mouth kiss. You hum into his mouth as he returns the kiss, and holds the smoke for a moment before blowing it out again. “Damn,” he rasps. 

“Yeah, damn,” you rub his shoulder with your thumb and look at him through your eyelashes. Without breaking eye contact you pass the spliff over. The two of you spend several minutes doing this; lazily kissing and admiring each other while you shotgun hits back and forth, and slowly burn the spliff to the filter. You make each other laugh, and cough, and neither of you can keep your hands off of the other. 

That's how it goes.

He pulls away to set the butt of the spliff that went out a minute ago into the ashtray.

“Shall we relocate to the dungeon,” he croaks in a cartoonish voice, and arcs his arm dramatically towards his bedroom. You throw your head back with a laugh, and don’t catch him fawning briefly at your exposed throat.

“Yes please,” you say with a mischievous smile on your face. It was ridiculous how much this boy made you smile. 

You quickly push up off of his shoulder, pinning him to the couch while you get up first. “Hey!” he grunts, and pushes you a little when he catches up a moment later. You both laugh and stumble towards the other room, knocking into each other, racing to get there first. He does, but he steps aside, bows, and sweeps his arm like you’re royalty, letting you pull ahead at the last second. 

“Chivalry isn’t dead,” you coo. As soon as you cross the threshold of his room you start shedding layers, and Eddie clicks the door shut behind you. “My uncle shouldn’t be home until late, but, yanno..” You glance over at him and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Better safe than sorry.” 

He closes the distance between you and grabs the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head for you, before pushing you towards the bed. You happily oblige and fall onto his bed, the blanket cool under your back and you close your eyes and take a deep breath, soaking up his smell. You feel as he presses his shins into the edge of the bed with one of your knees between his. When you open your eyes, he’s looking down his nose at you, long hair falling around his face. His energy has shifted away from the playfulness you came into the room with, and when you meet his eyes again, it gives you butterflies.

“Hi,” you say breathily. He kneels one leg between your thighs, and starts leaning over you, planting a hand by your head on his descent towards your face.

“Hi,” he whispers into your mouth, just barely keeping from brushing his lips against yours, and holding your gaze still through his eyelashes. You lean up to connect with his lips, and the movement shifts you down into his knee on accident. Your breath hitches, but it gets lost in the kiss that’s exploding between the two of you. You move your hips on purpose now for a little bit more of that friction and let your eyes flutter shut. He smirks and runs his free hand down your chest, over your stomach, and grabs the waist of your jeans. He pulls and presses, helping you establish a rhythm against his knee and thigh. 

The intensity of your kisses amplifies, and he pushes his tongue into your mouth. He sucks on your top lip, and nibbles at your bottom. His tongue traces your teeth. Your hands are running all over his back, up into his hair, and up and down his chest. Restless and grabby. 

He ruts your hips into him with a particular gusto, and you can’t help but moan. 

“Mmmm, get up on the pillows for me,” he rumbles, and he licks a stripe up the side of your neck before yanking the waist of your pants the direction he wants you to go. 

You make a little sound of agreement, and use your elbows to scooch backwards. He drops his other knee to the bed, and watches you wiggle into a comfortable position while he begins the slow crawl up to you between your legs. Again, his dark and intense gaze sends a ripple through you. You can see the slight bulge in the front of his jeans and it makes you throb a little more in your own pants. 

He kisses a line along the top of your waistband, then slowly starts to kiss a trail upwards. Holding himself above you he kisses your stomach, past your belly button, up to your chest. He veers off center and takes one of your pierced nipples into his mouth. His tongue swirls over it as it hardens and you take up fistfulls of his hair as he sucks on it. You groan and let your head fully relax back, the feeling of his tongue and teeth grazing your sensitive skin and the metal nestled in it zings into your core. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” you whimper as he licks and kisses his way across your chest to torture your other nipple. Sucking on one, and rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger, grunting and groaning when your hands tighten in his hair. You’re already becoming a wet mess for him, and he knows it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t drag it out. 

His hands find their way to the front of your pants again, but this time he pauses. “Baby, I wanna feel you so bad,” he drawls, and you exhale hard at his words. “Can I?” he asks, and you nod vigorously, biting your lower lip a little.

He unbuttons your pants, unzips the fly, and starts pulling down on the waistband of your jeans and underwear simultaneously. You lift your hips into the air to make it easier for him, and he leans down to plant a kiss on your abdomen in response as he slides the rough material down your thighs. When you put your hips down, he sits back on his knees briefly to finish pulling them off of you and then reclaims his spot between your thighs.

Only now, the situation is a bit more intimate. He flashes a rogue smile at you, before zeroing in on the exposed heat between your legs. His rings glint in the light as he brings his hand to you, tracing sporadic shapes beside your lips and across the top of your mound before dancing over your swollen clit. Your eyebrows jam together as you let out a long sigh. You love the feeling of his fingers putting pressure on both sides of your clit, helping it pop out from under the hood even more. He dips his finger into the pool of grool that's gathering at your hole, and draws a string of it away, very obviously enamored, eyes wide. He does it again, but this time, sliding two fingers over your entrance, up your clit, and then bringing them to his mouth to lick off your juices. He moans around his fingers, looking up at you. The hunger that’s burning in his eyes makes you clench. 

“Are you all wet and hot for me? huh,” he murmurs, and drips a glob of spit onto his fingers. He rubs outside of you briefly once more before pushing two of his wet fingers into your cunt and curling them. “Mmmm, yeah, good boyyy,” he groans out, feeling you pulse and drip around his digits. His voice sounds like honey, and he can’t pull his eyes away from your soft skin stretching around his fingers, his rings contorting the skin when he’s deep inside you.

You gasp and swear when his fingers brush up against that rough spot inside you, and you try to keep your hips still with the help of his firm hand pressing down on your abdomen. Then you start babbling pleases and vague begging. Your whines pull him back to this planet, and he looks up at you.

“What is it?” he almost taunts, “you feel good?”

“Yeah, but–” you gasp as he curls his fingers again.

“But what?” He likes making you squirm and struggle, likes making you feel so good you can’t finish your sentences.

“Please, more, I need more,” you look down at him, eyebrows still furrowed, mouth agape, and eyes pleading. 

He laughs lightly and plants a sloppy wet kiss right on your clit, causing you to moan. Flicks his tongue over your tiny erection several times.

“‘More!’ he says,” he teases you, as he pulls his mouth away. But, he doesn’t hesitate to jam a third finger in your wet pussy and pick up the pace. You spew profanities littered with his name, all throaty and loud, your back arching and your hips rutting, but he pushes down from your stomach again, which just makes you flood with more juices. 

The steady rhythm that he’s rocking your body with from the inside out starts to build inside of  you, a deep ache in your guts that makes your legs start to shake.

“God you're such a hot little mess,” he spits between bared teeth. His breath is starting to wrack his body, and his face is scrunched up in lust and focus.

“Ooooo yeah, Eddie, fuck,” you pant, “Eddie you make me feel so good. You– fuck– you make me so wet– nnnn,” your praise and whines are like music to his ears. He doesn’t want you to stop making those sounds, ever.

But he does want to make you squirt.

“Can you take one more, baby?” he asks courteously.  He knows you can, just wants to make sure you want it. You nod your head. “Mmmmm, ask for it then, babe,” he slightly slows his three fingers and focuses on just curling them against your inner walls for a moment.

“Ah! Will you, please–nnnnn….  Please put another in me Eddie, I want you to stretch me out.”

“Ooo hoo hoo, good boy,” he tells you, and he pulls his fingers out of you. You wince at the sudden emptiness. He locks his eyes on your face as he tastes you on his fingers, keeping a steady motion on your clit with his other hand. Then he flattens that hand and speeds up, making you drip and clench and pull your legs together at the shift in feeling. He firmly pushes your legs back apart, and then shoves all four of his fingers into your cunt. You make this animalistic, guttural moan scream as he goes right back into his body shaking rhythm from before. Except now, he’s basically grabbing your whole cunt from the inside, and rocking your hips down into the bed and up towards him, and it’s driving you fucking crazy. 

Very quickly the tension builds inside of you, and before you can even turn your desperate sounds into real words to warn him, your orgasm crashes over you, and a wave of pleasure rolls through your body. You clench and jerk and your pussy floods and gushes around his fingers, the wetness rolling down his wrist and onto his bed.

“Good BOY! YES, ooo, come all over my fingers, baby,” cooing and groaning, and his face is flushed, mouth open in disbelief. “You’re so fucking hot, yes,” he keeps the stream of praise flowing, but you’re barely tracking it over the rush in your ears and the sound of your own heartbeat. He pets your inner walls a few more times before you start flinching at the stimulation, and he slowly slides his hand out of you. He kisses your inner thigh, and bites down. You yell a little in surprise, before giggling back into a pant to catch your breath. 

His fingers and his rings are extra shiny in the light now, dripping every now and then, and he is looking at you with the  biggest shit eating grin on his face.

“Goddamn, godDAMN,” he says with a slap to your thigh, he bites his lip, and then he moves to lay down next to you.  

“What can I do for you? If you give me a minute you can fuck me…” you start as your breathing regulates, his body warm and sweaty against yours.

“Well, funny story…” he says sheepishly, “I’m actually uh, pretty sorted out.”  You look down without even thinking, and sure enough, in place of the tent he had pitched earlier, there is now a wet spot coming through the denim.

“Oh my god…” your voice is soft and almost a laugh. 

He starts to splutter, looking defensive and not finding the words he wants before you cut him off. “No– good oh my god! Like, oh my god that’s so fucking hot that that made you come in your pants,” you grab his face and study him with your bright eyes and amused smile. “Like it’s a little funny, but holy shit, I love it.”

He lets out one laugh and scrunches his nose at you, “Alright, alright, whatever.” He kisses you so you don’t have to keep talking about it. 

“I’m gonna go roll up another joint,”  he declares, pecks you on the lips, and grunts when he stands up. 

You watch him leave the room with an unwavering smile turning up the corners of your mouth, and glassy eyes. After a couple more deep long inhales and exhales, you trail after him.

[xhdream]

the people want loser(s) part three - infinity !!

(im people)

- (sending on anon bc i cant send an ask w a side account UGH) sunnyyangie 😁🤞

can i handle more of this fucker tho?? he is driving me insane but you already know what it’s like 🥲

also pls tell me why is it so fun writing him a dom who finds it hard accepting he wants to be a sub for you WHYY

[supersources]

I wanted to say your resources are always so clean and nice to use 10/10 with ease every single time and that’s not an easy feat in my experience so thank you !!

thank you! that makes me so happy to hear!

[fancifulflora]

(SFW) been wanting to cry for some angsty stuff for ATOC, can I request a hc list of how would X, D, R and A react when the Crown is fatally injured, possibly shot by an arrow or stabbed?

Maybe an extra rrq that the Crown is a gentle, cinnamon roll type, that overly kind soul you'd want the least to get hurt but yeah now they're dying

The editor for this tumblr ask literally crashed when i was almost done with X's entry and I've never felt more devastated in my entire life ksahkj. There is also something very similar to this prompt though, it's more about the Crown sacrificing themselves for the ROs. If you're interested in that I'll link it here

I apologize if this isn't the best but I'll try to redo what I can

Azad/Ashti

You were absolutely foolish to get yourself hurt. No matter how kind-hearted you may have been, the Imperial Guard was made to lay down their lives for you. Any injuries you sustained was a stain upon their honor, their own failure to complete their duties.

The Royal Protector fights the icy cold waves of guilt washing over them. They save the lectures and punishments for another time because all that matters in that moment is you.

Their first priority is to get you to safety, the only sign you may see of their inner turmoil not found in their words, but their actions.

The protector's hands shake ever so slightly as they apply pressure to your wounds, hoping to staunch that they can before the healers arrive. A cold sweat chills them down to their very core as they listen for your pulse- only to find it fading away by the second.

They try to reassure you, but it doesn't work. In desperation, they find themselves practically ordering you to keep your eyes open, to not leave them while they're trying to save your life- tightening your bandages up. The unspoken words of concern and love dying in their throat when they look up to see just why you haven't responded.

By the time the healers do arrive, it takes their combined effort to finally pry the Royal Protector from your side.

Dara/Delal

Having served in the military for so long, the General was used to the bloodshed and horror of it all. Gore, suffering, and pain were things they could stomach. Or a least, the ability to do so was required of them.

It's when they see the arrow impaled in your skin, smell the metallic scent of red staining their cloak that the General realizes they may have been wrong. A complex bundle of emotions stirs under those layers of armor, but they have the strength to push through and remain vigilant.

If not for you, then for their own sanity.

Without a second thought, they tear their cloak, torn strips used to either secure the arrow in place and prevent it from moving. If not that, then to help stop the bleeding of any wounds.

They hold their Crown close, all propriety forgotten as the only thing on their mind is you. You need them in this moment and the last thing they'd ever do is fail you. Even if it's killing them on the inside.

What you need in these moments is strength, a shoulder or person to lean on. Which is why they allow you to squeeze the life from their hands. They listen to your weakened voice, giving you the same, almost practiced, words of reassurance they've given countless others.

Yet something about the words this time shakes the General to their core. This time, it feels entirely too raw, like a hundred old wounds made fresh again. The feeling paralyzes them, the unadulterated fear deep in their hardened expression.

As the situation worsens and all seems lost, the General straightens themselves, remaining by your side and keeping a steadfast vigil by your side. Never once do they stray from you. Even as crowds of healers all frantically apply aid to no avail. They remain by your side even as the anguished cries from loyal allies and friends alike sound throughout the halls at news of the inevitable.

And there they remain, even when the last wisps of golden sunlight in those eyes of yours wither away.

Rozerîn/Rêzan

To say that you were everything to the Sorcerer would be an understatement. They had found themselves and their entire life turned upside down by your very being, your warmth and kindness endearing you to the Sorcerer.

You were their purpose, and their friend.

So it's surprise that when they rush to your side, panic and fear overtakes them. The tension is almost palpable in the air as they order, practically beg for others to secure your safety- to fetch the healers- to do something.

It's also in this very moment that they curse their own abilities, or lack thereof. Healing magic simply wasn't a big priority, especially when there were so many others who could look after your health and safety.

If only they had studied more - practiced more- perhaps paid more attention to their surroundings or kept a better eye over the many enemies of Arsur.

A gentle hand, your hand, frees them from the mental prison they were trapped in, lifting the weight of guilt and shame enough for them to focus on pouring every once of themselves to saving you.

You had saved them, been there by their side from the very start.

They had to return the favor, to repay you for all your trust.

Those sentiments ring through their head, repeated over and over again like a mantra as they feel a sharp pain in their skull. Hands trembling from the sheer amount of magic they were using.

The darkness, a very similar one you once saved them from sets its familiar claws into them, the Sorcerer collapsing besides you- their fists bunching up the fabric of your clothing. With what little strength they can muster, the Sorcerer pulls you to their chest, cradling their dying star to their chest.

Xelara/Xelef

The mercenary was a mess. Clever words had long left them by the time they reached your side. Instead there were only frantic, broken phrases of concern and orders to remain still less your wounds worsen.

It almost feels out of character for them, at least, for those who only knew the mercenary by reputation. Having lived the life they did and taking on a profession that exposes them to danger so very often; the Pale Sword had a relationship with death that bordered on being blasé. Even when other Crescent Blades fell in battle, their leader could keep a rational mind about it. For many, this helped to cement the band of mercenaries as relentless, a force to be reckoned with.

If only the gossip mongers and general public could see them now, form hunched over your own. The corner of their vision blurred from the stinging of tears threatening to spill.

They had expected an end like this for them, perhaps even desiring it over the withering they'd have to endure from aging, but for you? Nothing like this was supposed to happen to you. You were the Crown of Arsur. The leader of millions that all relied on you being safe and well. And, perhaps more importantly to the mercenary, you were also the keeper of their heart.

Were? No, you are the Crown of Arsur. And you will live through this. You have to. Otherwise...

The Pale Sword ends the notion right then and there, focusing on the present and being by your side. By now, they've done what they can for you, whether through what general first aid they know or through the healing magics of one of their Blades.

Moving you was out of the question, the very attempt to do so drawing a loud cry of pain from your lips. A wince of guilt burns in the mercenary as they pull back, trying to keep your focus on them instead of the carnage of battle.

The feeling of helplessness isn't an unfamiliar one to the mercenary, however, it's one that the Pale Sword despises to their very core. But what could they do for you that hasn't already been done? What could they do to ease your undeserved suffering?

What they do best.

Lie.

It only takes a moment for mercenary to pull their act together, a practiced, albeit softer smile, gracing their features. What would have been smoothed, honeyed lies of your condition fall flatter than they'd like. Your weak smile tells them as such, a weakened, forced laugh humoring the mercenary and giving them one last act of kindness they know deep down they do not deserve. Nevertheless, they embrace the comfort wholeheartedly, bringing the back of your chilled hands to their lips, their touch- their kiss, returning your gift with one last hug of warmth before the light in you fades away.

[lomltrentarnold]

WELCOME TO LOMLTRENTARNOLD ! 🎟️

❪ hana 🍉 ❫ she/her. brown girl. southeast asian. sept libra. sfw blog. loverpool. trent’s doe eyed babe. locs!trent girlie to the core.

hello loves !! 💗 i hope you guys enjoy your stay here, stay as you long as you like this is a safe space <3 my inbox is always open for chats and rambles 🎀

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❛ 📁 HANA WRITES … ! ❜

requests are open! <3

[NEWEST!] comfort | trent alexander-arnold

i think you’re pretty | trent alexander-arnold

handsy | trent alexander-arnold

[elitadream]

Guys I'm getting SO MANY asks about this concept, Idk whether to keep my inbox open or not/hj. 😭🙇‍♀️ I sincerely enjoy all your thoughts and questions on this, but there's no way I'll be able to answer them all at this rate.

If you don't get a response from me, I want to apologize in advance and let you all know that I nonetheless read every single comment I get. And they all make my day.

Thank you. 🥺🙏💟

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Y’all I’ve been thinking about this all day but I have never and will never ask for critiques/feedback on my works. I write fanfiction to have fun and unless I made a horrible mistake in my writing please do not send me or leave critiques on my work.

If I wanted it, I would ask

[jahayla-parker]

Absolutely OBSESSED with never steal from the devil!! I love how brutally you write kaz! He’s so menacing but kegs exactly how he’d be I’m that situation, ESPECIALLY after discovering his love in such a state! Can’t wait to see the resolution and hopefully some softness from Kaz during the reader’s recovery

Awwww thank you 🥹🥹🥹 that’s so sweet. I wanted to make sure he was strong and violent but not over the top either. I’m glad you liked the balance I struck in this series! 🖤

[fruitybashir]

*looks at calendar* omg tomorrow is Sunday. Excited! :)

waaaaaaah ily <3333 cant wait to show off the new chapter tomorrow teehee i hope youll like it!! :3 ♡♡♡