#prompts from the eyebrow overlord

[jotaroslooseeyebrowhair]

Dp x Dc prompt #?????

Dash was sitting in class when he got sent a text message from one Daniel Fenton. 715xx. The exact date of when him and Danny had started dating, and the emergency code that meant someone had found out about him being phantom, and he needed and immediate evac. Dash grabbed his phone and keys and ran out of class, Mr.Lancer and his friends yelling at him to come back, but they didn’t know what was going on, they didn’t understand.

Dash runs into Danny’s house and sees a glowing green strain of blood streaked down the hallway towards the basement. Dash runs over and throws the door open, practically jumping down the stairs with a yell of his boyfriends name on his mouth when he stopped dead in his tracks. In front of him was Phantom, leaned against a wall with glazed eyes, a large Y scar carved in his chest- but no other Fenton anywhere to be found.

Dash raced over and kneeled down, placing kisses all over his boyfriends face, telling him everything will be okay, he’s got you Danny, you’re safe now. Dash hastily wiped away his tears and shakily grabbed the needle with glowing green thread and sloppily sewing up Danny with one hand, the other tucking Danny’s head to his shoulder, not caring about the dead silent crying, though dash’s wasn’t nearly as silent. Dash finished and tried to ask about the Other Fentons- if they did this to him- but all Danny could do was shake his head no. Danny used the smeared blood on his fingers to write out “G i W” on the floor. Dash quietly asked if his boyfriends parents were working with them. A head shake… if, if his parents were trapped too? A slow nod.

Okay, okay dash can work with this. He’s worked with worse, like when he bruised his rib during the playoffs and still played anyways because he needed that scholarship. He can do this. Dash took a deep breath and slid his hands under Danny’s legs and his back, tucking his head to his chest again and letting Danny listen to his heart.. He used the emergency lockdown code Danny gave him for the portal and ran back up the stairs, sliding his now unconscious boyfriend into the passenger seat and sitting in the driver side. He took a deep breath and started the car. The one place he knows he can hide from with practiced ease, with absolute confidence of safety and security, his aunt Harley’s down in Gotham.

[hells-wasabii]

Oh I have an idea! What about Velvette’s girlfriend meeting the other Vees for the first time?

A/N: I'm baaaack. Sorry for the sudden hiatus everybody, life got crazy and I just haven't had the time to write like i did when I started. Hopefully that'll change soon cuz there's still like 90 reqs in my inbox that I plan on writing. If I manage to get back down to a more reasonable number I may reopen reqs. but for now, here's some Velvette. A fair warning, though, I personally feel that this one is a little dialogue heavy, but hopefully yall enjoy it nonetheless

Character: Velvette

Type: Drabble (Velvette x fem!reader introducing gf to the Vee's, Fluff)

The initial pleasantries were out of the way, introductions and the like. It had gone well enough, you supposed, at least that part was over with. As bad as it sounded, you were thankful. Maybe you might actually survive the night after all.

“You know, darling, you’re quite the looker, have you ever considered a career in the film industry?” You shift your weight from one foot to the other, chuckling nervously before the overlords, because what the hell were you supposed to say to that? What the hell have you gotten yourself into? 

Velvette, who stood to your right, shot Valentino a sharp glare. A warning. There sure had been plenty of those tonight already, hadn’t there? The first of the night had been your own.

The influencer had told you what to expect before you had even set foot in Vee Tower. When your girlfriend had invited you to meet the rest of the Vee’s you had initially been unsure. Yeah, you knew Velvette already, the self-proclaimed backbone, the other two surely couldn’t be that, bad right?

“So…” Vox started, a serious expression settling upon his screen as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What are your intentions with our dear Velvette?”

Okay, so that’s where the night was going. Great. Maybe you’d been wrong, but all things considered, it genuinely felt as if you were meeting her parents. They had been surprisingly casual so far, but the trio of overlords had a reputation for being unpredictable, so that could really change at any minute, you realized. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you sputtered in response. Shit, you’d expected the other two overlords to be intimidating, but definitely not like this.

Velvette was quick to respond, slamming a not-so-subtle heel into his foot. The video star let out a yelp, electricity crackling around his screen as he glitched before pulling his leg away as though to defend it from further assault. 

The Vee’s truly were something else, you decided as the tall moth demon continued with another playful gibe.

“Oh no, Voxy, if anything we should be more worried about Velv’s little girlfriend here.” Valentino grinned as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, you inhaled sharply as you were pulled closer. “Is she treating you well, doll?”

“Of course she is.” You couldn’t help it, really. The words rolled off your tongue before you could think better of it. Velvette raised an eyebrow as a lazy smirk Oh there was no doubt in your mind that the influencer would tease you endlessly later.  The way that Velvette flashed you a lazy smirk made your stomach do a little flip. With flushed cheeks, you cleared your throat while the television demon across from you barked out a laugh.

“You can relax, we’re not gonna bite. Why don’t we sit down and you tell us about yourself?” Vox began, though a smirk overtook his welcoming smile as he went on to tease the youngest overlord further. “We’ve already heard so much from Velvette, but I’d much rather hear about you without all the mushy shit.” 

“Oh for fucks sake, what happened to actually behaving yourselves tonight?” the influencer groaned, though there was no real venom to her words. This prompted another chuckle from the other overlords, you even found yourself stifling a laugh.

“Oh my dear we are behaving.” Though the grin on Valentino’s smug face suggested otherwise. You watched as the three continued going back and forth as you were led to a lounge Despite her protests, Velvette was clearly at ease. This was going to be an interesting night, you thought as a fond smile took to your lips.

[storydays]

Radio Killed Video Star P1

(3rd POV)

(Y/N) sat in his favorite seat as he continued drawing in his sketchbook, listening as Charlie paced nervously back and forth, and rant. He snickered as KeeKee paced back and forth with his sister.

"Okay. So the extermination is coming in 6 months instead of a year. No big deal, just a little setback. Nothing we can't handle. Just angels cutting our timetable in half. But who needs a whole year to save souls? Am I right? And next time, when they cut time in half again and again, we'll just handle it, right?!" Charlie asked manically.

"Yes. We will." Vaggie caught Charlie gripped her arms soothingly.

"Oh, please, ya had less than half a chance when you started all this salvation bullshit." Angel waved his hands around. "And now..." he paused as his phone buzzed angrily. "Ain't no silver lining this time, toots." He muttered.

"Sure there is. We just have to look a little harder for it." Charlie tried to remain positive. "Well, while you're lookin', the rest of Hell is going nuts. People are already freaking out about the news." Angel waved his phone in the other's faces. "Look at what's happenin' in the Doomsday District." The tech revealed a demon screaming, as another message appeared on Angel's screen.

"Uh, what's a donkey show?" Charlie asked, squinting her eyes at the message. (Y/N) grimaced as he eyed Angel suspiciously.

"Aah, heh, nothing," Angel wouldn't dare ruin the princess's innocence. Especially not with her brother right fuckin' there! "My boss, Val, is just freaked out about the news, too." He covered his phone from curious, (or suspicious) eyes, before shrugging his shoulders. "Like I said, everyone's losing their shit."

Vaggie looked up from where she was watching (Y/N) sketch. "Yeah, that's true. Sinners are desperate." "Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape the extermination?" (Y/N) thought aloud, tapping his pencil against his lip.

Charlie gasped, breaking into a wide grin. "This is the perfect time to recruit more sinners for the hotel!" Angel raised an eyebrow. "Cute idea and all, but you really going out in all of this?"

"Well, it's not like people are just going to show up on our doorstep." Charlie shrugged before yelping as an loud explosion disrupted the hotel.

"Show yourself, Alastor!" hissed a snake demon dramatically. "Come and face--" He paused looking for the Radio Demon, before catching sight of him sipping coffee, wearing a giant grin as usual. "Oh, there you are." The snake murmured. "FACE MY WRATH!" He hissed, over the speaker.

"Who are you?" asked Alastor raising an eyebrow.

"Who am I? Who am I? I am the great Sir Pentious! Inventor, architect of destruction, villan extraordinare!" During this introduction, Alastor melted into his shadow before appearing next to the Hazbin crew. Charlie looking in shock, Vaggie in annoyance, Angel with a raised brow, and crossed arms, and (Y/N) with a curious look.

"Woo! You tell 'em, boss." came a goofy voice over the loudspeaker.

Niffty gasped excitedly, as she popped on Alastor's shoulder. "Ooh, he's a bad boy."

Alastor huffed, as he gently set her down. "Huh, well if all that's true, you'd think I'd have heard of you. Have you heard of him, (Y/N)?" The prince side eyed the red clad demon, sending him a look that said, 'Bitch...leave me out of this.'

"I attacked you literally last week." Pentious deadpanned, feeling irate as Alastor tilted his head in thought, narrowing his eyes. "We've done battle, like...20 times." the snake prompted.

"Well, you must be really bad at this." snarked the deer demon. "Silence! Now cower! For when I've slain you, the almighty Vees will finally acknowledge me as their equal!" Pentious laughed.

"Ooh!" exclaimed Niffty as she found her way back on Alastor's shoulders. "Wait, who are the Vees?" she asked. "Oh, nobody important." Alastor rolled his eyes, a slight twitch in his brow at the thought of the Overlords.

*Meanwhile in the city*

"New VoxTek designer voyeur scopes. Peeping on the neighbors have never been more stylish. VoxTek. Trust us with your money." cooed the TV announcer as demons ran into the stores. "This week's episode of "Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What? is brought to you by VoxTek. Trust us with your entertainment. VoxTek. Trust us. Trustustrustustrustustrustus...." The phrase continued to repeat a TV demon grinned from the electrical shocks coming from the tech in demons hands.

"Hahaha! Now that's good television!" His laughing fit was cut short by a phone call coming in on his screen. With a grin, he answered the call to reveal a scowling demoness.

"Hello there, Velvette. How are you this hellish morning?" He grinned into his coffee mug, turning away to another screen, working on something.

"Oh, cut the shit, Vox. I need you up here now!" Velvette snapped.

"Whatever could be the problem, my dear?" Vox asked. "Your little boy toy is wrecking my department while I'm trying to pull together a show and--" She was cut off by a male voice yelling, "Fucking bitch!"

Scowling deeper, she turned towards the screen. "Just get your ass here. Now! Dammit Valentino!" Velvette screeched, hanging up.

Vox's smile dropped as he sighed in irritation. "Oh God, here I go. Valentino. Just another fuckin' day with Val." He crossed his arms behind his back as he walked towards the lift. "Hey, hey, hey. Fuck my life." Vox scowled.

As the lift took him up to the main floor, he plastered a fake smile on his face. "Mr Vox! Mr Vox!" called multiple reporters as he approached. "Mr Vox! Over here!" They called before one demoness caught his attention, "Mr Vox, what are your thoughts on the new extermination deadline?" she asked.

"My dear people, we at VoxTek Enterprises have always been at the forefront of innovation. And now with this oncoming threat, we are shifting our focus to your protection. We are pleased to announce VoxTek Angelic Security is coming soon! Trust us with your saftey." Vox grinned, hypnotizing the crowd.

"Sir? Uh, when did we begin working on Angelic Security?" asked an assistant nervously. "30 seconds ago. " Muttered Vox as he walked pass the press, the assistant following.

"Try to get that bitch Carmilla on the books and cancel all my appointments today. I have a fire to put out upstairs." Vox rolled his eyes before disappearing into a camera to travel faster.

*Up on Velvette's floor.*

"Ugh, no. Unacceptable. You're fired." Velvette hissed at the designers, before zeroing in on one dress. "What is this? Wrist ruffles? Is it 1750? Burn it like the witches who wore it." The designer scurried away.

"Oh, Velvette." chuckled Vox as he appeared, watching the social media fashion designer demoness rub her temples. "I can see you're busy.Tell me where's our hot headed friend now?"

"Up in his tower, waiting for a flat-faced prince to calm him down. " She shrugged. Sighing deeply, Vox put a grin on his face. "And uh, what's got him so out of sorts today?"

"Who knows? But he tore up my best female model!" Velvette grabbed a dismembered arm and used to start pointing at the TV demon, making him grin as he watched the pink haired demoness throw the arm. "And you know the show can't wait for that unlucky bitch to pull herself together."

"Melissa, get over here!" she called her next best female model. "No,no. Hideous, I want to do. Eww." Using her magic, she shuffled the outfits until a box with a bow appeared in front of Velvette. She quickly read the card, "Vel, sorry I can't make the show, but here are a few inspirations. ~ (Cute Nickname).❤️"Velvette grinned before using her magic again to put the newer designs on. "Yes, that's the one!"

"Well, it looks like you've got everything under control here." Vox grinned as Velvette playfully rolled her eyes. "Of course I do. Fuck you. Now shoo! Take care of the piss baby." She rolled her eyes again, before opening her phone to send a thank you text to a certain blond prince.

*Up by Valentino's office.*

Vox eyed the two assistants as they opened the door, before walking into the penthouse, raising an eyebrow at the figure sitting in a red cloud of smoke. The figure took notice of Vox's arrival, and sat up, glaring. "FUCKIN' FINALLY!"

The red figure threw a drink at the wall, turning to the assistant , "Kitty, another drink!" he demanded, the robot smiled before disappearing, and returning with a drink.

"Can you believe what that piece of shit did? The ungrateful whore!" He smashed the drink against the wall, making Vox simply step side the incoming glass.

"Um, which whore are we talkin' about this time?" Vox asked, boredly. "Fucking Angel Dust." He hissed. "Who the hell else would I be talking about?" Vox attempted to answer before Valentino stormed off. "That fucking slut walked out on me. Me. I fucking made him." The moth turned towards the window, while Vox pulled out his phone, checking his cameras.

"Without me, he's just a bag of meat with some mildly entertaining holes." Valentino squeaked as he made hand gestures.

"Angel quit?" Vox asked happily with a giant grin.

"No, he didn't fucking quit. It's worse; he moved!" roared the Moth as he threw Vox's phone against the wall, ignoring the annoyed look the TV demon sent at his hand as if realizing what happened. "He thinks he can just walk in here, work, and then go home somewhere else? Can you fucking believe that?"

"He thinks he can run off and shack up with Lucifer's bimbo daughter." Val grumbled as he stalked to a closet. "Angel is living with Lucifer's daughter now?" questioned Vox, as he turned towards the other overlord.

"Yeah, that bitch. Chalkie or Chandler, or I don't know. Something mannish like that. She's got this hotel--" Valentio paused before turning around with a pair of guns in his hands. "And which of these makes me look sexier?" he purred with a smirk.

Vox forced a laugh through his teeth. "What are you doing, Val? You're not going over there." He said firmly, using his hypnosis power.

"That slippery twink is going to remember who owns him. I'm going to fuck everyone on the rancid shithole, I swear to God." hissed Valentino.

Vox snapped grabbing the pimp by his fur, face lit up, a scowl on his face. "VAL!"

Plastering a smile on his face, he chuckled, as they walked together to look out the window. "Think about it: Our brand is perfection. And what do you think chasing whores around town will do for our image?" He asked,snatching the guns from Valentino.

"Uhh...fuck it up?" Val questioned. "Right!" grinned Vox, using a game show sound effect of cheers. "Do you want people thinking you can't control your employees?"

"No!" snapped the moth.

"Exactly. And hey, you still have him under contract, he isn't going anywhere. So you should....?" prompted Vox.

"Do nothing?" replied Val, hesitantly.

"Great idea! Now that's why they pay you the big bucks." Vox patted the moth's cheek, closing his eyes and placing his hands behind his back.

"But I really wanted to shoot someone." sighed Val as he held out a cigarette, waiting for Vox to light it.

Vox peeked an eye open before lighting the cigarette with a heart. "Well, let me call up the lowest earners this month." he compromised.

"Ooh, you know me too well." Valentino purred, chuckling darkly.

As Vox rummaged through the drawers, Val smirked. "You know, Angel isn't the only one spending time at this ratty hotel with the devil's princessa." "Oh, who else is there? Someone who owes you money?" Vox asked boredly.

Chuckling, Val continued, "Someone who owes us much more than money. The Radio Demon is there."

Vox glitched, digging his nails into the desk, before chuckling lowly. "Hahaha, what did you just say?" He asked, darkly, his hypnosis eye glowing, 3 lines on his face, showing his anger.

"You heard me."

"Alastor came back and he is with Lucifer's daughter," Vox started softly, slowly getting angry, "and that wasn't the first fucking thing you told me?!" He screamed, grabbing the moth's fur again.

"Hey, killing Alastor is your thing." grinned Val, as he watched the TV overlord zoom over to his cameras.

*Back at the hotel*

Sir Pentious yelled out in pain. "Arrgh. Oh! Please! Stop!" he begged as Alastor used his shadows to torture the poor demon.

"Um, Alastor?" called Charlie nervously. "I think he's had enough." Alastor continued to laugh loudly. Angel narrowed his eyes as if thinking before smirking, "Nah, he's got a few more hits in 'im!"

Alastor tilted the blimp so the snake fell out and on the floor. "Thanks for another forgettable experience." Alastor swung his can around before leaning on it, looking at the snake mockingly.

"Thank you...for letting your guard down! Haha! Yah!" laughed Pentious as he snagged a piece of the Radio Demon's coat, before cowering. "Oh shit." He yelped seeing Alastor's shadow grow.

An explosion sent Sir Pentious flying, his scream echoing. "Arghhhhhhh!!!!"

Alastor watched with a grin before turning towards the rest of the Hotel members.

"Well, it looks as though I need a visit to the tailor. Best of luck, chums." He waved before walking away.

"Wait, you're leaving?" Vaggie asked, "Alastor, we need your help! We need you to do your job."

"We need a wall." Angel deadpanned, gesturing to the broken wall.

"Of course. Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?" The deer asked, snapping his fingers before walking away. In his place, were a bunch of shadow demons with tools in their hands.

(Y/N) perked up, seeing the shadows. "Yo, Tommy, wassup, man?" He grinned, fist bumping another shadow who grinned back.

"Oh!: Angel giggled, shoving Vaggie to the side, before sashaying over to (Y/N) and the shadow demon. "Hey, sweet cheeks, who's your friend?" Leaning on the shadow's shoulder, he grinned. "Whatcha doin' later? I love me some men with giant....tools." Angel used his second pair of hands, to caress (Y/N)'s waist, and pull at his belt loop, suggestively, and his upper hands resting on Tommy's shoulder.

(Y/N) squeaked, cheeks a bright red, matching Charlie's before teleporting somewhere else in a vortex of shadows. Angel smirked to himself, 'Prince-y is so easy to rile up; and he's so cute when he's all flustered.' Angel didn't even realize how his own cheeks were a faint pink.

*Back at the Vs tower*

"See? Look how he flirts with those guys, and their not even paying! Who is that shadow dude? I'm gonna fucking kill his whole family! And the Lucifer's bastard son is there too? What the fuck?! Vox? Vox?!" He snapped, slamming a hand on the desk.

Vox continued to ignore him, as he buzzed with electricity, as he watched the Radio Demon walk away.

"That fucker is back!" He hissed.

"Yeah, I thought he was gone for good, too." replied Val as he continued to rile up the TV demon.

"It's been seven years." Vox growled.

"You still pissed he almost beat you that time?" cooed the moth.

"Uh, fuck you." spat Vox.

"Just saying," sang the heart themed pimp, as he leaned against the desk.

"Things have changed a lot since he left town." monologued Vox. "That's for sure." Val agreed.

"I've gotta send a message of who's really in charge now." Vox and Val chuckled darkly.

*With (Y/N)*

Hidden away in his bedroom, (Y/N) stood, staring at nothing before grabbing a pillow and screaming into it. (Y/N)'s dog, Rocco, watched lazily from the prince's bed.

After his screaming fit, (Y/N) grabbed one of his sketch books, and leaned against his bed, and flipped through the pages, smiling at the multiple sketches of Angel Dust, and just thinking. (Y/N)'s dog, Rocco, barked happily before curling next to his boy.

(Y/N) would rather have his wings cut off with Vaggie's angelic spear then ever let the spider see this journal. Even with all the sexual innuendos and comments, (Y/N) was still intrigued by Angel, and wanted to see what was underneath.

He just wish he wasn't so damn easy to fluster. Angel 100% took advantage of that fact, but he couldn't help it. Yes, he grew up in Hell, and always had admiring fans wherever he went, but they only wanted the tittle.

Angel hadn't even known he was the prince until he'd appeared at the hotel after the failure that was the interview Charlie had with Katie Killjoy.

At the thought of the bitch, (Y/N) scowled.

Charlie told him what she said about the gays, and the next day, Katie's hair was burned off, and she was missing a few limbs, (they'll grow back...eventually...painfully 😈 ). When Charlie found out, she cast a look at her brother, who gave her a devilish grin, briefly showing her his demon form he kept carefully hidden.

It sucks that people don't give Charlie the respect that they give (Y/N); but Charlie also knew her brother had a darker side that an even greater respect to his name.

But Charlie introduced him as (Y/N), and Angel treated him like a normal person. Well, normal as it is for Angel. Even when Alastor greeted him as 'Prince', Angel continued to talk shit and flirt with (Y/N).

"Just because you got dat crown on your head, don't mean that's all you are. You'll always be (Y/N) to me." The Italian explained, seeing as (Y/N) was confused. When people realize who he is, they act completely different. But Angel acted like they were long time friends....(Y/N) hadn't had that since he was a helling himself.

Ever since then, the Spider had slowly made his way into (Y/N)'s heart.

When Angel didn't think anyone was watching, he would reveal a softer side, especially when it comes to his beloved pig, Fat Nuggets.

Sighing, (Y/N) curled on his side, Rocco, rumbling lowly before curling in (Y/N)'s outstretch arms, snuggling closer for warmth.

"One day, I'll tell him~❤️."

*A/N: Sorry for the delay! My dad is in the hospital, so I went to check on him and hang out; will keep you guys updated and see y'all next time!*

@avatar-lover

[xiaolin-show-hoe]

"Love Bug" Prompt 1

Jack shuddered as a cold, scaly nose chuffed air into the side of his neck. He let out a little overwhelmed peep, and the other giggled actually in fondness over it. Clawed hands pulling the red-haired man ever closer into the cool chest of one evil overlord and Prince of Darkness, Chase Young.

How on earth did he get into this situation you may ask…well the story isn't very long.

Basically, there was a Wu called the Love Bug. This wu had the ability to attack its enemies by making them attracted to the user, which in turn often made them turn soft and mushy. With all the Xiaolin hugs and clinginess. 

This wu, however, had a mind of its own and kinda liked to bite people since it activated and…it bit, Chase Young of all people. He was literally one of the hardest people to bite, especially with the armor and sensitive hearing, but a moment of distraction was enough.

Yada Yada, basically Jack was now in the Citadel with Chase Young huffing and puffing around his ear like an overly affectionate cat….with one key difference.

"Pretty," Chase breathed out reverently into his ear, and Jack felt his heart flutter ravenous in his chest as more praise dropped from the Dragon's lips. Gentle teeth ever so gently marring his pale skin. 

Jack knew the Wu effect would be over soon, but he hated how much he liked all this. The feeling of his crush and idol curling around him and saying sweet things that the man would never say to him. 

He never imagined something like this being possible. He tried to calm himself, but when Chase kept nuzzling into him, even in his dragon form, the red head could barely contain his physical reactions.

Clawed hands moved to his hair, digging into the scalp pleasantly. Jack stiffened in fear, but instantly relaxed when the hand started massaging his scalp. In fact, Jack melted. 

This was everything he ever wanted. Someone to just pat his head or touch him lovingly.

The person doing it being Chase Young, though, was the mind-blowing cherry on top. The creme de la creme, the perfect scenario.

Chase scratched right where he really wanted, and Jack couldn't stop his breath from festering out. When Chase moved away, Jack unconsciously moved his head back to follow the hand, and a small little laugh greeted his movement as the clawed hand dug back in the spot.

Jack let out a little noise of enjoyment. It felt nice, probably the best moment in his life. "So greedy," Chase mocked, but it was clearly flirty.

The free Claw hand however skirted around his hip and Jack jumped a bit. A gloved hand grabbed a reptilian one as Jack stuttered, "Y-you don't want to do that." The words were nervous and panicked but he knew he would be dead meat if he didn't stop the situation from getting heavier than it was.

The Love Bug bite couldn't be permanent. He couldn't enjoy this forever.

"How could I not when you are teasing me like this?"

Jack could have raised his eyebrows to the ceiling.

"What do you mean teasing? I am literally stuck, how can I-AH!" His girlish scream rang out as Chase tail unwrapped from his waist and now wrapped along his upper thigh. The sensitive skin making him twitch every time Chase's scaled tail moved along it. His jeans were his only line of defense, but they were so tight that he could feel the texture of the scales anyway.

His stomach was tickling in that stupid teenage horny way that had him wishing he was older. 

"That right there, I can feel your blood pumping and you smelling like sweat. It's like the sweetest poison." The words curled around Jack like an earworm, just reverberating till he was stuck thinking about that sentence.

It had his heart flipping and sinking when he knew he would never hear this again. Especially not if Chase got ahold of him after this Wu wore off. He might tear Jack limb from limb to save face.

The redhead used that fear to push away Chase's huffing nostrils from his neck. It was a hard task met with struggle that Jack would never win.

"It's not my fault you are sensitive in your lizard brain. Just turn human or something," Jack yelped as the tail around his leg released. The immortal man huffed in a way that was definitely a smirk.

THIS IS 'PROMPT 1' called 'Love Bug'.

This story is about an incident with the Love Bug wu between Jack and Chase that end up never discussed until years later Chase receives Jack's invitation to his wedding and now Chase has to confront how he felt that day during the incident...and possibly crash a wedding.

[ailendolin]

Hello 😘 Can I ask for Rain for Disstari? 💙

Of course you can, dear! You know I love writing for these two 💙

This little ficlet is set in my Second Chances verse where Voltari and Dissectus joined the Elders' fight against Cuddly Dick and are now slowly acclimating to a life free of oppression.

List of prompts is here. Filled prompts are here, here, here and here on AO3.

Prompts are closed.

————

In The Rain

“Have you ever done this?”

Dissectus looked up from the book he was reading. “Done what?”

“Played in the rain,” Voltari said softly and nodded towards the Youngers outside.

Dissectus regarded him quietly for a moment before he put his book down and joined him by the window. A gentle summer rain was falling outside and in the middle of it were the Youngers, smiling and laughing and looking like they were having the time of their lives. A half-smile tugged at Dissectus’s lips. “Can’t say I have.”

Voltari heaved a heavy sigh and turned away from the window. “We’ve missed out on so much, haven’t we?”

He looked lost as he stood there with his thin arms wrapped around himself and his gaze far away in the past. Dissectus had heard Voltari allude to his childhood often enough over the years to know it had been a lonely one. Most Overlord childhoods were but Voltari’s father had been especially strict and ruthless, going so far as to keep his son separated from his peers until Voltari was old enough to join the Academy. The isolation had left deep scars – some of which, Dissectus feared, not even time would be able to heal.

“No one’s stopping you from doing any of those things now,” he pointed out gently.

Voltari raised one elegant eyebrow at him. “I am not a child anymore.”

Dissectus scoffed.

“Do you honestly believe that matters? After everything we’ve been through?” When Voltari looked away, he crossed the distance between them and cupped Voltari’s face between his hands. Looking him deep in the eyes, he said, “Stop overthinking everything. If you want to play in the rain with the Youngers, we’ll go outside and play in the rain. It’s as easy as that.”

“We?” Voltari whispered.

Dissectus’s face softened. “Yes, we. Or do you think I’m letting you have all the fun on your own?”

With that, he reached for Voltari’s hand and pulled him out of the library. The sound of the Youngers’ laughter greeted them when they stepped out into the garden, and it was only when young Irk spotted them that Dissectus subtly released his hold.

“Have you come to play with us?” Irk ask excitedly. Behind him, the other Youngers stopped their playing to look at them with curious and hopeful eyes.

Dissectus turned to Voltari. “I don’t know – are we, Tari?”

Voltari huffed out a faint laugh. “I suppose we are.”

The Youngers didn’t notice the nervous tremor in Voltari’s hand or the uneasy way the muscles twitched around his damaged eye. They only saw a new playmate and exchanged thrilled grins with each other before running over and grabbing Voltari’s hands.

“We’re going to have so much fun!” Alvin exclaimed and pulled at Voltari’s hand until he finally followed him out onto the wet grass and into the rain. “We’ve been puddle jumping just now! It’s when you jump into a puddle and try to get everyone as wet and muddy as possible!”

Voltari’s shoulders relaxed a little as Alvin and Sepal dragged him over to the nearest puddle and proceeded to show him how it’s done. “Now it’s your turn!”

With one last look over his shoulder at Dissectus, Voltari took a deep breath and jumped into the puddle. Water and mud splashed everywhere, making the Youngers shriek with laughter, and after a second of stunned silence, Voltari started laughing too. A heavy weight seemed to fall off him as he stood there with rain running down his face and not a worry in the world, and for a moment, Dissectus was struck by how beautiful he looked.

Then young Daisy and Barry tugged at his hand and pulled him forward, and he forgot all about his wildly beating heart he joined Voltari and the Youngers in the rain.

[guardian-of-time-if]

Snippet #3

Here's the next prompt. Sorry it's a little later than usual, I had a lot of work today. As usual, it's under the cut. This one has a bit more spoilers, relating to Sentinel's introduction, but I think they're small enough not to give much (if anything away).

A gentle breeze swished past as Sentinel and I walked into the camp of Dragon Seekers for the first time in years. I took a deep breath, filling my nose with the smell of fresh grass and exotic food. Sentinel squeezes my hand and gestures off to the left. 

“I’ll have to go meet with some of the overlords soon.”

I snort. “You’re really not fond of them are you?”

“Actually, I like them well enough, just not when they’re interrupting our anniversary.”

I give him a soft smile, pleased with the genuine way he says it. Still a pang of sadness hits me at the reminder we were spending out hundred-year anniversary working. “We can celebrate after your meeting. I’d rather you fix whatever problem is happening now than spend all day celebrating.”

He pulls me closer into his chest. “Even though it's a big one?”

“Even so. Besides, this camp isn’t exactly a romantic setting, so even if you didn’t have the meeting it’d be tough for us to fully embrace the spirit.”

“Nothing romantic?” He asks, pulling away, so I could look into his deep violet eyes. “This is where we first met.”

I blink. “You mean when you tried to beat me up?”

He lifts an eyebrow. “You know I wasn’t really trying right?”

I glare at him. “That’s not helping your case.”

“It’s also the first time you fell for me,” he adds, fully smirking now.

“You mean when you literally pushed me?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest. 

Sentinel sighs, but uses the arm still around my waist to pull me closer. “I could’ve taken you to where we first kissed instead.”

“You mean where we both almost died?”

“In my defense, when is someone not trying to kill us?”

“That doesn’t make it better,” I protest, but can’t stop myself from smiling. 

“Then what do you want from me?”

I look at him hopefully. “A kiss?”

He blinks, clearly not expecting an answer. He pulls me even closer, and rests his head on top of mine. “I suppose I can do that,” he mumbles into my hair. 

I tilt my head up in invitation, when someone starts calling for him. I frown and tighten my grip to show him that I wasn’t letting go until I got my kiss, but I tilt my head, so I can see the person who was trying to steal my elf. It was one of the new apprentices, and he stopped when he saw me snuggled into Sentinel’s chest. 

“I-Sorry, Sir. The Council is asking for you.”

“Well, tell them I’m busy,” he snapped. 

The apprentice’s eyes went wide and he stepped back. “I-Yes, Sir.”

I place my chin in the center of Sentinel’s chest, causing him to look down at me. “You should be nicer to him.”

“Kid,” he yells to the apprentice. “Tell them I’ll be right there.”

As soon as the apprentice responded, Sentinel turned his attention back to me. I looked up and met his eyes, and as soon as I did he leaned in. The kiss was quick, but he continued to hold me pressed against his chest. 

“You know,” he started to say, causing me to feel the vibrations of his voice. “I think I liked it better when someone was trying to kill us.”

[e-m-p-error]

you are evil. like a hobbit. {{ On Val's husband. XD }}

chaotic unhinged lines from 2022-2023 (prompt edition).

[ Ostello ]

The badger rose an eyebrow at her, before he just grinned and nodded twice.

"Guess so. Don't become a Overlord by bein' nice. So I'm gonna take that as a compliment, even if I have no clue what a fucking hobbit is."

It was the strangest way for someone to start talking to him, but he didn't mind the company. She was pretty, at least, even though she wasn't his type.

[bye-bye-sunbird]

To Osial from spoils of war: “there are many other priestesses with longer lifespans, why this one? Surely her defiance is an eyesore”

Ooooooh, I'm going to take this interaction and turn it into a prompt, merging it with the N-SFW fic I was planning with Osial, it's just the perfect opportunity, tehehehehe... So, if you don't mind, let's put a temporary reader's perspective in Osial's Harem, shall we?

This is part of the Spoil of War series, you can find the first part here, and the masterlist of this series here.

Warnings: Explicitly rough N-SFW, choking, general yandere and dark themes. MINORS DNI.

Fragile - Priestess!Reader x Yan!Osial x Harem!Reader

Osial doesn't even glance your way, but the way his smile sharpens as you finish your sentence sends shivers down your spine.

He is wickedly beautiful, there's no other way to describe him. A few, wet strands of his long blue hair rest in his broad chest, the lower part of his body covered by the intoxicating waters of the hot spring you are both in. Resting his head on one of his hands while the other draws circles on your thigh, he seems not very interested in answering your question just as he doesn't seem interested in any of you, as of lately.

He sometimes had favorites, sure. You held that position yourself several times. But this time...no, this one seemed different.

Your hand ventures delicately to his neck, while your lips deposit sweet, feathery kisses on his clavicles. Desperate to garner any kind of response, you push your body closer to him, a warm wave of water reaching the small patch of dry fabric left in your soaked garment as you place your hips firmly against the outline of his erection. You inhale deeply, rubbing yourself back and forth.

A hum paired with the deep and soft sound of his laughter is what you get. His fingers wrap around your neck in a move that could only be comparable to a snake slowly constricting the prey it's about to devour.

"She sure seems fragile", he says. Your eyebrows furrow slightly, as you feel some heat rising to your cheeks, which paired with the thick air that you are slowly being deprived of is starting to make you feel a bit light-headed. "With a bit more pressure, I could snap that pretty neck of hers."

He raises you slowly until half your body is out of the water, the steady grip on your neck a sharp contrast to your trembling form as you shakily set your knees apart in excited anticipation.

"Aren't you the one that tutored her when she was only an apprentice? Back when you still thought of yourself as one of Guizhong's daughters, of course."

You feel the tip of his length rubbing your entrance as he lowers you. A jolt of panic runs through your mind, there's no way you can accommodate him without passing out if there's not enough air in your lungs. You meekly place your hands on Osial's wrist. "M-my lord, wait. I can't..."

"Tell me then..." he interrupts.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his cock barely manages to glide inside of you. Pain and pleasure melt into one as he snaps his hips upwards until he is completely sheathed, you start gagging in your own drool as you feel his length almost splitting you in half. The lack of air in your lungs and the enormous length between your legs proving too much for you to handle.

You don't see the dark smile that forms in the Overlord of the Vortex's lips as you slowly pass out between rough and brutal thrusts. He growls, like the monster he truly is.

"... how long will it take for her to break?"

[jotaroslooseeyebrowhair]

Dp x Dc prompt (I need to number these)

You know what? Fuck it. Danny is Superbat’s illegitimate cloned son. The Drs Fenton saw both Superman and Batman and figured they were both ghosts, and what better way to learn about ghost than a controlled environment? They tried to just clone one of each but none of the clones worked, until Jack accidentally put Superman’s DNA in the vessel containing Batman’s DNA, and there! A successful clone! The Drs wanted to see how a ghost would live in a human-raised environment so they named the little guy Danny and raised him as their own son.

Turns out, because of the ectoplasm in the air from the weapons and the thin vail between the infinite realms and the human plane, the kryptonian DNA laid dormant. Even though Danny got Clark’s bright blue eyes, his fluffy deep blue hair that looked black except in sunlight, (where Danny felt happier and stronger) Danny got Bruce’s face shape and height.

What really kickstarted the kryptonian powers? The lab accident. Danny got some of the basic minor ghost powers, but ALL of his kryptonian powers came into the light at the same time, so they were “probably just other ghost powers!” And brushed under the rug.

Now as for how they meet and figure out that Danny is the clone? That’s up to you, I like the idea of a vivisection, “you were never truly our son anyway” etc. Danny runs to Gotham/metropolis because something his real parents feels so familiar, the cities are calling out to him and he just needs somewhere to lay low and heal for a while, until he runs into one of his donors/siblings. Another way? Danny gets summoned as the ghost king for the JL for some problem, except he gets summoned as his “human” counterpart. The absolute similarity between Clark and Bruce makes them ask for a DNA sample (as well as whatever problem they need fixing) and after a long conversation of no, we are not an evil organization, they get the blood and while it is corrupted, it’s very obvious that this kid is the clone of Bruce and Clark. Shared custody anyone?

[ficcrimes]

fissures

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters: Vox, Angel Dust Ship: Vox / Angel, mentioned Vox / Val  A/N: written for Hazbin & Helluva’s Rare Pair Month! prompt: angst & hurt/comfort. Warning: implied abuse Summary: Vox needs a moment and finds himself in Angel’s dressing room after a fight with Val. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s not entirely out of the ordinary for Vox, or even Val himself, to come barging into Angel’s dressing room in the studio. So while the door being opened catches him just slightly off guard, he doesn’t bother really looking away from his own reflection until the door slams shut. That makes him jump, just a little, and then he twists around to watch Vox beginning to pace in front of the door. 

He caps his lipstick and sets it down, leaning one elbow onto his vanity and pressing his cheek to his knuckles. “If you an’ Val got into it again, y’know as well as I do this ain’t the place t’be if you’re lookin’ to get away from him,” Angel snorts, teasing. 

The way Vox and Val fight is concerning, even by Hell’s standards. If they were a living couple, there’s no way one of them wouldn’t have killed the other by now, Angel thinks.

“I don’t need your fucking smart mouth right now,” Vox snaps back, pausing in his pacing to turn a glare toward Angel. He looks angry, he feels angry; aggressive static radiates from him, combing through and tugging at Angel’s fur. 

Just as quick as he’d turned his glare toward Angel, he shifts it toward the door to the dressing room. “I just need a minute,” he mutters, and Angel watches as he lifts a hand to his face, rubbing a palm over it. Sharp fingertips scrape against the screen, and there’s the faintest sound of a claw catching on a crack. 

Angel’s quiet for a moment, more contemplating his own next move than actually obliging Vox’s demand for silence. The moment passes and he sighs, standing and walking over to the overlord. 

“Let me see.” 

Vox sighs, and for a moment presses his fingers hard into one corner of his screen. Distorted and imperfect rainbows ripple out from beneath his touch before he drops his hand away from his face all together and turns to face Angel. 

The crack isn’t the worst Angel’s seen. In fact, it may be one of the better ones. A thin line reaching from the center of the screen, zig-zagging down into the lower left corner. Distortion is faint, pixels flinching and glitching only now and then and nearest to the starting point. 

Angel knows better than to ask what happened. Not that Vox won’t tell him and not that it doesn’t matter, but they’re both used to Val’s outbursts. He’s just as likely to cause harm for something trivial as he is for something important. Not that he should be hitting them at all, but this is Hell and that argument is moot here. 

“Too bad ya got a stupid head,” Angel teases, shrugging one shoulder while another hand comes up to run over the edge of the undamaged side of Vox’s face. “Make-up ain’t gonna do shit for ya.” 

Vox snorts, pushing Angel’s hands away. “I appreciate the concern. I can fix it on my own later.” 

Angel wants to say “you shouldn’t have to,” but he doesn’t. 

And Vox knows. He knows he shouldn’t have to, now or ever again. He should have never had to repair this sort of damage caused by the hands of his own partner. And yet he has, and he will, again and again until who-knows-when at this point. 

“Well… until you can,” Angel says, and walks back to his vanity, popping open a drawer and shifting the contents around until he finds what he’s looking for. When he comes back over to Vox, he moves quickly and before Vox knows it, there are heart-shaped bandaids stuck to his face, where the crack starts and ends and once in the middle for good measure.

He raises an eyebrow as he looks up at Angel, expecting some sort of an explanation. A wry half-grin tugs at his mouth, and Angel’s relieved to see this little stunt seemed to alleviate some tension and not add to it. 

Angel shrugs, grinning. “It ain’t no fancy screen repair job, but it’s cute.” 

Vox doesn’t thank him, but that half-grin turns into a half-smile, and that’s good enough.

[aceghosts]

Whumptober 2021 Day 10: Oops, I Did It Again

Alternate Prompt: Mercy

Fandom: Mass Effect

Rating: M

Summary: Noticing Rooney's troubled emotional state after finding out what Archer has done to Gavin, Tali decides to talk with them.

Warnings: Torture and Trauma. Also, mentions of dead bodies and a character reliving their trauma. Part of this fic deals with the ending of the Overlord DLC, and the background of a Colonist Shepard.

Words: 1,277 words.

Ship: No Ship! Just some good old fashioned friendship between Rooney and Tali.

AO3 Link

Rooney shakes, anger overwhelming them. How could Archer do this to someone, much less his own brother? And he wants Rooney to leave David with him? No. No fucking way. They close their eyes, and they’re back on Mindoir, holding Jack’s dead body again. “ROONEY!” Jack’s screams reverberate in their skull. Shaking their head, Rooney reminds themself to focus on David. David needs their help; they can help him.

“No,’ Rooney cuts him off harshly, curled fists trembling, ‘I’ve seen enough of your cruelty to know that David will never be free from it. He is coming with me.” Rooney will find David somewhere safe. They’ll search the whole galaxy if they have to. Cerberus will never lay another hand on him.

They turn away from him, determined to get David out of that hellish contraption. “NO! You need to leave him; David is too valuable!” Rooney’s vision turns red, their anger spiking. All Archer sees is a fucking opportunity, another tool to use in service to the Illusive Man. Out of the corner of their eye, they see Archer aim his gun at them. As he pulls the trigger, Rooney ducks beneath the shot. Big mistake. People who shoot at Commander Shepard don’t typically survive.

Rooney pulls out their own pistol as they turn to face him. They whip it across his face, Archer stumbling backward. His nose cracks, blood streaming from it. He grunts and Rooney punches him with their left fist. The doors to this torture chamber open, but Rooney doesn’t acknowledge it. They’re too angry to look, focused on wanting to make Archer feel a fraction of the pain that David felt. They punch Archer again, knocking him to the ground. Rooney brings their pistol up to his face as they kneel beside him. They should put a bullet in his head, do the galaxy a favor. Rooney closes their eyes, the vision of Jack’s lifeless eyes staring up at them. They can hear him scream in their head again. Shit.

“Shepard!” They look over to the door, finding Tali and Thane looking concerned. Especially Tali. She looks horrified as if this isn’t the Rooney that she knows. Rooney looks back at Archer. They should kill him, but instead, they will show him mercy, albeit cruel mercy. They’ll show him the mercy he never showed David. The mercy Batarian Slavers never showed Mindoir.

Rooney snarls, “If you ever think about coming after David, this bullet will be waiting for you. Then, we’ll see who’s valuable.”

Archer looks up at his brother, seeing him for the first time. “Where are you going to take him?”

“Grissom Academy,’ Rooney says, standing up, ‘They have the resources to help David without torturing him.” Rooney holsters their pistol, looking at Tali and Thane. Thane looks relieved, but Tali still looks troubled, watching Rooney carefully. Bringing their right hand up to their comms, Rooney calls for Joker. “Contact Grissom Academy. We have someone who needs their help.”

Rooney’s attention returns to David. In the back of their mind, they can still Jack’s still body, his blood on their hands. A tear leaks out of their eye, and Rooney wipes it away. They couldn’t save Jack, but they can save David.

--

The elevator doors to Rooney’s quarters opens followed by the sound of someone’s footsteps. Rooney looks up from their report to the Illusive Man, the one they’ve been trying to write for the last two hours. Tali stands beside their desk, wringing her hands nervously. Leaning back in their chair, Rooney raises an eyebrow. “Is there an issue, Tali? Is anyone from the Cerberus crew giving you trouble?”

She shakes her head, her voice unsteady. “No, it’s not Cerberus.”

“Then, what is it?”

“I wanted to check on you. You seemed…” She trails off, unsure of how to continue.

Oh.“Let’s talk.” Rooney says, getting up out of their desk chair. They motion for Tali to follow them, heading down towards the couch. Rooney sits on the dark leather couch, patting for Tali to sit down next to them. She sits next to them, a few inches between her and Rooney. “I’ve never really told you about my childhood, have I?”

Tali shakes her head. “No. You’ve mentioned a few things here and there. All I know is that you grew up on a colony, Mindoir. I read up on it; I heard it was attacked by Batarian Slavers.”

Rooney nods. “When I was sixteen. I lost my whole family in the attack on Mindoir, including my younger brother, Jack.”

“Oh.” Rooney hears the dawning realization in her voice.

“Yeah. I’ve worked through it, but it just hit me like a sledgehammer today. Jack wasn’t autistic like David, but he was bright, far too bright to be stuck on a colony like Mindoir,’ They look over at Tali, smiling, ‘You two probably would have gotten along.”

“I’m sure we would have.”

Rooney leans forwards, hands folded together. They sniffle, tears in their eyes as they focus on their hands. “When I was a kid, I was always in charge of looking after Jack. He used to get picked on sometimes, and I was his protector. And I failed-“ They stop, the guilt threatening to overwhelm them. Tali scoots closer, placing her hand on Rooney’s shoulder.

“Guess I just couldn’t understand how someone could do that to their own brother. His brother is alive and healthy, and mine is six feet under. He should be cherishing the time he has with David, not experimenting on him like a lab rat. I would give anything in the galaxy to have one more moment with my brother, and he treats David like a tool.” Rooney’s voice trembles, angry at the injustice of it all.

Tail pulls Rooney into her arms. They stiffen for a moment before letting Tali pull them into a hug. They hug her back, cherishing the touch of a friend. “I’m sorry, Shepard.”

They sniffle. “Not your fault. This just got personal.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t apologize. Archer is a bosh’tet!”

“The biggest.” Rooney grins as the pair laugh.

Tali clears her throat when the pair finish laughing. “Shepard, could you tell me more about your family? I’d like to hear about them if you’re okay with that.”

Rooney nods as Tali releases them. The pair lean back on the couch. Tali curls into Rooney’s side, her helmet resting on Rooney’s shoulder. They pull up their omni-tool, a photo projecting from it. In the photo, a teenaged Rooney stands on the left in the center, next to two teenage boys. Behind the kids are four adults. Love and grief overtake Rooney as they start to tell Tali about their family.

--

Beside them, Tali yawns, the fourth one within twenty minutes. “Let’s get you to bed.” They say, switching off their omni-tool.

“I want to hear more stories!”

“And you can. But you’re tired, and we can always talk tomorrow.” Rooney says, getting up from the couch and stretching their limbs. They hold out their hand for Tali to take to help her up. As Rooney pulls her up, they say, “Thanks for listening to me. It’s been a long time since I’ve talked about my family, and it was nice to relive those memories.”

Tali hugs them again, Rooney returning the hug. “It was nice to hear about them, Shepard. I’m always here to listen if you want to talk.”

They nod. “I know, but you know how I am. You’d have a better chance of getting a Krogan to talk about their feelings.”

She pulls away, laughing. “Oh trust, me. We all know, Shepard.”

[mr-walkingrainbow]

can we get a super fluffy bad weather abimel fic? love your stuff btw <3

Aww thank you!!!

BAD WEATHER HERE WE GO!

I was very very conflicted, because y’all know I live for thunder angst. But because of my simping ass their is distinctively two different Columns in the Abimel prompt list

Thunder angst

And Bad weather

So as much as I want to turn this into thunder angst

I’m just gonna write bad weather

So hear y’a go!

“Goodbye my love!” Abigael calls out to the Vera Vaughn house.

“Bye Cariño!” Mel replies sweetly.

“Ugh! You guys are just couple goals!!!” Maggie groans from where she lays sprawled on the couch.

Macy doesn’t acknowledge the question, too buried in her book in the corner.

Mel raises an eyebrow, “Thanks Mags, but you know you could be couple goals as well, if you just finally told Jordan your feelings?”

“Hushhh hush hushhyyy,” the empath half silences half groans, “I don’t wanna focus on him, I wanna focus on how adorable you and Abigael are”.

“AGHHHHHHHH!”

The loud scream pierces the house, everyone jolts, minus Macy. Who really, is just that into her book.

“CARIÑO?!?” Mel yells, jumping to her feet and racing to the door.

Abigael is still standing in the doorway, back facing the Latina.

“Abby?” She prods quieter.

Slowly, the hybrid turns to Mel.

A small puff of air escapes the lesbians chest, as the site of red angry dots coating half of Abigaels body.

“Mel,” Abby speaks in a lofty robotic way, “Mel it’s snowing.”

And that’s how we lead to her current situation.

A fires crackling, the thermostat practically melting, and Abbys bundled up in every single blanket they own, yet she’s still shivering like a popsicle.

“B-b-blood-dy H-hell.” Her teeth chatter violently as she curses.

“I’m so sorry Mi amor! I should have checked the temperature.” Mel apologizes once again.

“What’s wrong with her?” Maggie questions nervously, “She was only outside for a second? She shouldn’t be this affected.”

Abby tries to explain, but her teeth clank to much to even get a sentence out.

Mel places a warm hand on her forehead, stroking it just how she likes it.

“S’ok Cariño,” she assures, “I’ll explain. You just focus on getting warmed up.”

Abby nods, hesitating in a way that causes her to gaze to linger.

It’s a bit gratifying, how she can tell exactly what’s she’s thinking.

If the hybrid could, she’d be blushing lightly. But since she was so cold, it was impossible. But Mel can tell by the angle of her eyebrows.

And she understands.

She nods assuringly, and makes sure to keep stroking the laters forehead.

Abby mumbles something gratefully, sinking into the touch.

Maggie looks at them, knowing something passed between them without her knowledge.

And Mel isn’t sure if it’s because of her empath powers, or just her natural sisterly instinct, but slowly, her sister nods along too. A smile gracing her appearance.

“So basically, the cold effects Abby different then us.” The Latina spoke, drawing the subject away from her girlfriends silent implication.

Maggie’s eyebrows furrowed, “We said that before, but why is it?”

“We’ll, she’s part demon.”

“Yeah but so is Macy, and she doesn’t get this severe?” The brunette gestured towards their sister, who peeked up curiously at her name.

Mel took the moment to roll her eyes at the eldest, who somehow only just was pulled from her trance.

“Well Macy isn’t the same as Abby.”

-“Wait, your comparing me to Abby?” Macy interrupted, eyes trailing, and widening, once she saw the frozen girl, “Wow?! What happened?”

“Really Mace?” Maggie glared slightly, hands on hips.

The eldest waved her hands in the air, “What?! I’m in the middle of a deeply interesting book about the physics of life and gravity and how-“

-“A-And I’m Al-r-ready b-bored!” Abby coughed from her cocoon of blankets. Lapsing into another bought of violent shivers.

Mel quickly turned, “Shhh, shh, it’s ok, just go back to sleep. Just keep getting warm and cozy.”

She pressed another kiss to her girlfriends brow, wrapping her more efficient in her little ‘Snuggle coon’.

Abby relaxed only when Mel continued her comforting movements on her forehead.

Macy glared fiercely, not happy with her book being so blatantly insulted, “Remind me why we can’t just let her freeze.”

“Because if you even attempted to I would tackle you to the floor with no hesitation,” Mel stated with emphasis, “No ones allowed to hurt Abigael.”

“Besides the fact that she looks like a Lil Puppy Overlord all wrapped in those blankets!” Maggie (of course) cooed.

The eldest looked miffed, “Yeah you need to get your eyes checked Mags.”

Mel started to growl, which quickly got Macy to shut up.

“As I was saying, Abigaels physically, and hereditarily, part demon. Macy is a witch, but with demon blood. Theirs a different. Especially in how they react to things.”

“But how does that make her so perceptible to the cold?” Macy questioned.

“We’ll her temperature is naturally higher the ours, yours is a tad bit higher due to your blood, but not nearly as high as hers.”

Maggie looked confused, “But wouldn’t that just protect her from the cold more?”

“Hypothetically, yes,” Mel paused, “Think of her as a flame. Now picture an Ice cube. You wouldn’t. Put an ice cube directly in the fire or something hot, because although really cold, it’s much more consequential. Now the flame, ergo Abby, is really hot, in more ways then one.”

“Yeah, yeah,” her younger sister smirked, “We get it, you simp the ground she walks on.”

“Mags!” The Latina squeaked, blushing madly, “Enough of that! Anyway, she’s literally hot. So slowly, in a gradual sense, she’d last longer then most people. But it’s when it’s abrupt cold, like snow hitting her, or unprepared weather, that effects her more drastically then us. Because her temperature doesn’t regulate like ours do.”

Her sisters took the information in, nodding accordingly.

“Now, I love y’all, but I have to tend to the popsicle I’m calling my girlfriend.”

Macy eagerly left the room, while Maggie brightened, “Ooh! I’ll make her Moms power cocoa! Y’a know, the one she’d make just when-“

-“We turned from cheerfully numb to painfully cold,” Mel finished with a bittersweet smile. The cocoa always seemed to infuse all the love a mother felt for her daughter, “Yeah, Abigael would love that. Thanks Mags.”

“No problem!”

Her attention immediately shifted back to her girlfriend, who was practically being swallowed by all the blankets around her.

“Ok, it’s just me now, so you can stop pretending to be asleep.” Mel whispered.

Abby peeked open an eye, “H-how’d you know?”

She smiled warmly, “Oh Cariño, I know you my love. I know that your not truly asleep until your breathings light, and your eyebrows lax. …. Also you’d twitch every time I’d stop touching your forehead.”

Abigael blushed at the last part, glancing anywhere but Mel.

“Hey, look at that,” Mel commented ruefully, “At least you can blush again.”

The hybrid groaned, letting herself sink into the blankets in her embarrassment.

“Aww, mi amor,” she cooed lightly, pulling back the blankets till she could see her girlfriends face again, “How are you feeling Cariño?”

“Like a B-bloody popsicle.” Abby grumbled.

“We’ll fortunately your Body temp seems to be doing better, your teeth aren’t chattering as much and your starting to gain some color back.” She noted dutifully.

Abby groaned again, overall looking miserable.

“I hate snow:” she complained bitterly.

“I’m sorry,” Mel apologized earnestly, “Do you want some snuggles?”

Abigael brightened, “Oh god yes your like a mini furnace, but Mel..?”

The Latina smiled, “Don’t worry, I’ll still stroke your forehead. Y’a know it’s ok to ask? I’m not gonna hold it against you?”

Abby nodded, although she still didn’t look quite convinced.

Mel understand, although it hurt her, Ratcesca had infused into the girl that asking for things she liked was foolish and weak.

She was their to slowly disband all the toxic knowledge that monster had unforced in her.

The lesbian quickly braced herself for what was going to feel like the heart of a volcano, before shifting under the heaps of blankets.

Nevertheless, she’d jump into a real one if it meant her girlfriend would feel better.

Mel wrapped her arms around Abigael, spooning her as much as she could.

“Better?” She questioned softly?

“Almost.” Abby whispered back.

She understood immediately, and started to caress the lattera crown, smiling when the other started to purr in contempt.

“Oh I love you Melanie.” The hybrid murmured blissfully, “Even if I’m freezing my blood out.”

“We’ll I for once love you too,” Mel replied warmly, “Even if I’m about to die of heat stroke.”

“Oh shut it!” The later smiled fondly.

The lesbian just laughed, loosing herself in the repetitive motions.

About five minutes later, Maggie came in with her moms power cocoa.

She smiled at the scene before her.

Wrapped in about fifty blankets, Mel and Abigael were snuggled in the heart of it. Both peacefully sleeping entwined.

“Oh,” she cooed adoringly at the cuteness, placing the cocoa mugs nearby, “Like I said. Total couple goals.”

[ailendolin]

Whump Wednesday - 48 - Yonderland

Title: Soon [AO3]

Characters: Dissectus/Voltari, Ho-Tan

Prompt: Dissectus fluff fic - Prompt sent in by the lovely @psychninaaa2.

A/N: I know it's not quite your birthday yet but I hope you will have a fantastic day tomorrow and enjoy it with the people you love! 💙

Prompts are open, so if you want me to write a story for you as well just send me an ask with the fandom, characters and your prompt. I’m writing for Ghosts, Yonderland, Horrible Histories and Bill at the moment.

Six Idiots Whump Wednesday / Fluff Friday masterlist is here.

————

Soon

Voltari was nervous.

That feeling was not particularly unfamiliar to him – something his parents had never been too happy about – but letting it show was. He’d been patiently waiting for the Council session to end and everyone to hurry off to the kitchen for dinner before pulling Ho-Tan aside and all it had taken was one look at his face for her to ask, “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Not too long ago, Voltari wouldn’t have allowed his face to be such an open book, easy for anyone to read. It would have caused his downfall at best and his death at worst. Overlords were trained to sniff out weaknesses a mile away and exploit them ruthlessly, and Voltari’s stature alone had always made him an easy target for thinly veiled threats and attack. It had taken him literal decades to convince the other Overlords that he wasn’t the weakest of them all despite his lean build.

He wasn’t among Overlords now, though; he was among friends and Ho-Tan, as squirrely as she so often tended to be, was perhaps his closest confidant besides Dissectus. Which was exactly why he’d chosen to go to her for counsel in the first place.

“Nothing is wrong,” he said at last before her mind could come up with a hundred different and equally ridiculous scenarios to worry about. “I … merely request your advice on something.”

Clearly intrigued, Ho-Tan raised one of her eyebrows. “My advice? On what?”

Voltari took a deep breath. “It is Dissectus’s Name Day tomorrow and I … I wanted to make it special for him.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Ho-Tan smiled just like he knew she would. “Who doesn’t love a celebration in their honour?”

Voltari sighed. “The thing is: I have no idea what that even means – celebrating a Name Day. Overlords, we – they – don’t really do that. Not even for children.”

A shadow passed over Ho-Tan’s face but faded just as quickly.

“There is no right or wrong way to celebrate a Name Day, Voltari,” she said softly. “It all comes down to one thing, really: making the other person happy. How you do that is completely up to you. You can buy or make them something you know they’ll love; or you can prepare their favourite food and take them to a special place that means something to them, or to both of you. Whatever it is, as long as you have their happiness in mind, you can’t possibly go wrong.”

Voltari thought back to the wrapped present he had hidden away in his closet.

“I … I managed to track down a copy of an old book Dissectus loved as a child,” he admitted quietly. “He was … maybe ten years old when it got banned, along with countless others, and I know he still mourns its loss, silly as it may sound. His words, not mine.”

Ho-Tan smiled softly. “I don’t think it’s silly at all. We all have things from our childhood that hold a meaning others wouldn’t understand. It’s a wonderful gift, Voltari.”

“It just doesn’t feel like it’s enough,” Voltari sighed. “It’s his first Name Day and he deserves more than just a book.”

“Don’t underestimate the power of the written word, my friend,” Ho-Tan said. There was a teasing note to her voice that let him know she wasn’t completely serious. “What’s Dissectus’s favourite cake?”

Voltari blinked, thrown by the question and sudden topic change. “Lemon?”

“Then the two of us are going to bake him a lemon cake tonight after everyone’s gone to sleep,” Ho-Tan said, linking her arm with his. “And we’ll put up some decorations in the garden so you two can share a nice breakfast tomorrow morning. How does that sound?”

“Like you just saved me from making a fool of myself,” Voltari said earnestly.

Ho-Tan laughed and pulled him towards the kitchen. “You would have done just fine with that book of yours, Voltari. Trust me. It’s often the little things that count the most.”

Voltari would try to remember that.

————

It was still dark outside when he got out of bed the next morning. Pulling on his dressing gown to ward off the cold, he grabbed the wrapped up book and silently made his way to the garden to get everything ready. The cake was still where they’d left it to cool last night, safe inside a box. Next to it two plates were stacked alongside two forks, one knife, two glasses, a bottle of wine and a picnic blanket – all courtesy of Ho-Tan. Voltari spread out the blanket on the grass, careful to straighten out all the wrinkles, and placed the cake in the middle of it so it would catch Dissectus’s eye. Then he got up and lit the lamps until one by one, the garden was gently glowing with golden light, giving it a dream-like atmosphere.

Voltari paused for a moment to take it all in: the lamps, the garlands, the banner that said, “Happy Name Day!” and the blanket with the cake. His heart began to flutter nervously, knowing there was no going back now. Everything was ready – almost. Kneeling down, he placed the book beside the cake. It had cost him a fortune to track it down, and it had taken way longer than he liked to admit. He’d only gotten it a week before Cuddly Dick had summoned them for the first time – a lifetime ago now. So much had changed since then; some for the worse but most for the better. For the first time in his life, he could go to sleep at night without having to lock the door behind him in anticipation of an attack. He had friends, and not just in secret. He was allowed to openly enjoy their presence and let his guard down around them – something he was still working on but getting better at with every day. But most importantly, he had found peace here, and hope: hope for a future with Dissectus by his side, just like he’d always dreamt of.

Just like Dissectus had dreamt of, too, he knew.

There really was no reason for him to be so nervous right now and yet Voltari found his heart beating a mile a minute as he made his way back inside and down the hallways to Dissectus’s room. He knew better than to walk in unannounced. They might have shaken off some of their old habits but waking an Evil Overlord, even a former one, without warning would still be utter madness.

Not fancying a dagger between his ribs, Voltari quietly knocked on the old wood.

As predicted, Dissectus was awake at once. “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Voltari said quietly, not wanting to wake anyone else.

A few seconds later, the door opened. Just like him, Dissectus was wearing a dressing gown. While his eyes were bright and alert, the rest of his face was still softened by sleep and his hair gently mussed. Voltari’s chest tightened with longing at the sight.

“What’s wrong?” Dissectus asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Did you have another nightmare?”

Even as he shook his head Voltari felt a wave of affection wash over him. “No, nothing of the sort. I just need you to come with me.”

Dissectus’s eyes narrowed. “Come with you where?”

“It’s a surprise,” Voltari said, offering him a small, shy smile that he hoped would come across as earnest as the words were.

Slowly, understanding dawned on Dissectus’s face and he allowed himself to be pulled out of his room. Their slippered feet whispered over the stone floors as Voltari led him towards the garden. Just before the hallway made a turn, he stopped and turned towards him. “Close your eyes.”

“Voltari,” Dissectus said hesitantly.

Voltari reached for his hand. “Please. Trust me. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

A moment passed, filled with nothing but the sound of their breathing and the weight of their gazes. Then Dissectus nodded and closed his eyes – a sign of trust that nearly took Voltari’s breath away.

“Thank you,” he whispered. He gently tugged at Dissectus’s hand and after turning the corner, blindly opened the doors to the garden behind him. “Careful – there’s a step.”

Dissectus’s hold on his hand tightened for a moment – then there was grass beneath their feet and he exhaled softly. “Why are you taking me to the garden?”

Voltari smiled to himself.

“It’s a surprise,” he said again, knowing how much the words would drive Dissectus mad. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure everything was still as he’d left it – the cake, the lights, the banner – before he turned back to Dissectus and said softly, “You can open your eyes now.”

To him, it seemed like all the Realms held their breath as Dissectus took in the sight in front of him. His face didn’t betray any emotion, and Voltari began to fear that he might have made a mistake, that using something as deeply personal as a Name Day for a surprise had been the wrong thing to do.

Then Dissectus turned towards him, his face filled with open, unabashed wonder like Voltari had never seen it before. “You did all of this … for me?”

Feeling relief rush through his veins, Voltari smiled.

“Ho-Tan helped but – yes, I did. I … I wanted to make this day special for you, seeing as we could never celebrate it before.” He paused and pulled Dissectus into a gentle hug. “Happy Name Day, Dissectus.”

He felt Dissectus huff out a laugh against his shoulder – not one meant to mock but one filled with surprise and delight. Dissectus’s arms came up around him and when he returned the embrace, Voltari couldn’t help but close his eyes and enjoy their closeness for a moment.

“Thank you, Tari,” Dissectus whispered against his neck. “Thank you.”

There was a lot hidden in those words – a lifetime of longing for something so simple and ordinary yet completely unattainable for them; memories of all the times they’d spent this day together in the past and couldn’t acknowledge it; and a happiness they had fought so long and hard for, had risked everything and bled for to finally be able feel it within their grasp.

It’s been worth it, Voltari thought to himself as he pulled back and looked into Dissectus’s crinkly eyes.

Later, those same eyes would be brimming with laughter when Voltari told him about his cake baking misadventures of the night before, and after that with tears when Dissectus unwrapped the book he had been missing for decades. Now, though – now they were soft with affection, and something else – something more. Something Voltari could no longer deny feeling too.

Soon, he thought to himself and tentatively intertwined their fingers to lead Dissectus to the blanket. Dissectus smiled at him as if he’d read his thoughts and agreed. Soon.

[ead13]

Elder Scrolls Summer Fest Prompt: Dragons (F!Nord Dragonborn x Quintus Navale)

“I want to show you something,” she admitted, setting down the oversized knapsack on the table. It nearly collapsed the rickety wooden piece of furniture under its immense weight. Quintus couldn’t help but stare, realizing she had been hauling such a burden around Skyrim this entire time. Small wonder she was so strong…

“What in Mundus do you have in there?!” he exclaimed as he set aside the paring knife and wiped his hands. “More Dwemer loot? It looks heavy enough to be a couple of struts.”

Fjori smiled. “No, quite different. Think of something even older.”

He blinked. “Older than the Dwemer? That’s impossible, that would have to be something…Merethic. Then again, the Dwemer lived in the late Merethic era as well…”

“Did they? Well, if they did, there is no mention of them in our legends until Ysgramor arrived and drove the Snow Elves underground.”

“So before Ysgramor is what you’re telling me.” The alchemist frowned, wracking his brain. “Well, I admit, I don’t know much about Merethic history unless it involves Ayleids. What WAS happening in Skyrim before Ysgramor?”

Instead of responding, Fjori opened the knapsack and slid a massive skull onto the table, one replete with razor-sharp teeth and horns. It wasn’t difficult to imagine the gaping maw snapping off a man’s entire arm in one violent chomp. To see such an exotic sight, Quintus’s mouth gaped in shock. “Ta-da!”

“Fjori, is that a…dragon skull?!”

“That’s right.” She looked well-pleased with herself.

“Where in Oblivion did you manage to get such a thing?!”

She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Think about it for a second, Quintus.”

He paused, then his brow furrowed in understanding. “You killed it.”

“As is the job of the Dragonborn.”

“Divines, I know it’s what you do, but…how to explain…” He paused, tapping his foot as he thought but never taking his eyes off of the skull. “It was always something abstract, I suppose. You kill dragons. I do a quick mental sketch of you lopping the head off some giant lizard. Seeing this, though…” He reached out to touch the skull, but decided against it halfway there, as if suddenly feeling it might take a finger despite being severed from the rest of the dragon. “It’s hard to imagine any human killing something this terrible.”

Fjori scratched the back of her head. “This is actually dragon number…let’s see here…eight, I believe.”

He couldn’t help it. He looked at her with something akin to awe and reverence. “It’s stupid, I know that, but seeing this puts it all in perspective for me even though I acknowledged what you do. You really are incredible, Fjori.”

“Hey now, none of that. Don’t make me regret showing you this.” Fjori was blushing as she picked up the skull. This time, it was clear just how much it weighed, because he could see the way her well-developed muscles strained. “I just figured, seeing as I’m the Dragonborn, I ought to show you a trophy. Killing them is a part of my reality after all, and you don’t really get a chance to be involved in that. When I head out for a week or two to find new shouts, I have a tendency of dispatching a dragon here and there.”

Funny, she seemed like a cat that left its human a rat on the doorstep, though on a much grander scale. As with so many things, he found this rather heavy-handed attempt at sharing to be endearing, and he felt his heart flutter. “So what will you do with it? Come to think of it, what did you do with the other seven?”

“Well, I mostly let the others that participated in battle with me keep the bones and scales as trophies. The Whiterun guard has a skull in their barracks, for example, from that first dragon we dispatched at the watchtower. Of course, Lydia also has one, a sort of badge of honor for her service. I just thought it was about time I had a trophy of my own, one just like the Jarl of Whiterun has in his keep from Olaf One-Eye’s duel with Numinex in the old tales.”

“While it would be fitting, please tell me you are NOT planning on hanging it in the bedroom?”

The very thought made the warrior burst into laughter. “Shor’s bones, no way! It would be impossible to sleep with that thing watching you all night!”

“Ah, good.” Quintus looked visibly relieved. “It is rather unsettling to look at, to be honest.”

Fjori set the skull back down. “Even more so when it still has the beady eyes, which are thankfully no longer glaring at me. It’s always such a cold look they have, as though I’m little more than an insect to them. Cruel. Filled with disdain.”

When Quintus noticed the way she shivered, he quickly moved in to wrap his arms around her. “It certainly paid the price for underestimating you, didn’t it? In fact, perhaps that arrogance hastens their downfall in general.”

“I suppose so.” She paused in thought, basking in the warmth of his embrace and letting herself relax in his arms. “Do you know the old legend about Kyne and the Voice?”

“The Voice being the way you shout words in the dragon tongue?” She nodded in affirmation. “I’m afraid all I know is that the power exists, that the Nords used it in battle long ago, and that Talos was the last one with the ability before you.”

“Mankind didn’t always have the ability to shout as the dragons do. They were dominated by the dragons, who viewed themselves as far superior beings. Humans built temples and offered sacrifices to appease the strongest of the totem animals, but they and their chosen dragon priests were cruel overlords. Finally, the people prayed to Kyne for deliverance, and the Goddess of the Storm had pity on us. She taught us how to shout as the dragons did so that we could fight back and win our freedom. An entire war was fought, with mankind emerging the victors.” In the back of her mind, she also recalled that they hadn’t actually defeated Alduin, only pushed the problem back into her era for her to deal with, but she said nothing about it. Quintus didn’t need that worry.

“That’s…wow! Why don’t more people talk about that? It seems like a very important event, on par with the overthrow of the Ayleids or the Exodus of the Chimer.”

Fjori sighed. “Without written records, people dismiss the old legends as mere stories. My own people let the memories fade, and the evidence of this era is scattered all around Skyrim! Even the bards do not sing of history that ancient, only of stories recent enough to be handed down from eyewitnesses. Now the dragons are back, and we know nothing of how our ancestors fought them or the role they used to play in our culture.”

“A cruel trick of fate, that is.”

“And worse, the only ones that do know anything about dragons are outsiders, an organization with roots in Akavir of all places! We fought an entire war against the dragons, but have no knowledge to show for it. How could we have let it all disappear?”

Quintus did not like the melancholy overtaking her features. “You should write down what you learn as you fight the dragons and defeat Alduin, or have someone transcribe your stories as you tell them. Then, there will be records for the future generations.” Assuming she survived the ordeal and the world didn’t end, rendering that a moot point. Damn, he was supposed to be cheering her up, not bringing himself down!

She didn’t give him a chance to sink too far into those pessimistic thoughts. “You really think so? I’m not much of a scholar, as you are well aware.”

“I do. You are a great storyteller. Plus…” He smirked. “You have a perfect paperweight for your documents.” Finally, feeling slightly braver, he reached out and patted the skull on the table.

Her smile reached her eyes as she hugged him tight. “Okay, I think I can do that. We fear what we do not know, so let’s weaken their grip on us with learning.”

[daisychainsinthespring]

The Snowball Effect: Bucky Barnes and Darcy’s Metal Arm.

Darcy Elizabeth Lewis-Barnes had some of the best childhood friends a girl could ask for. Sure they were now scattered across the world, pursuing their dreams and getting into varying levels of trouble, but they had stuck closely to tradition. They were also part of the reason Darcy had met her husband, Bucky “Come on doll, we’re literally married now, please call me James” Barnes. To be fair, it had really started with a bear, themed after Bucky himself because why not model a bear after a WW2 hero? Stranger things had happened. At least that’s what her parents were convinced of. It would have been embarrassing to let them know the truth, that because her friends sent her explicit gifts inspired by the famous Sergeant Sexy, said Winter Sexbot had taken notice of her. It would be even more mortifying to tell them that finally, after much modelling (of the aforementioned gifts) and many dinner dates, he had put a ring on it. So yes, Darcy had some of the best friends a girl could ask for.

Although, to be fair, now that Darcy had the real deal (and how sweet was that?), she had been pretty sure it would all stop. How could her friends even hope to compete with the effects of his smolder (oh god, his smolder)? Darcy had clearly underestimated them, because it appeared they could (much to Bucky’s displeasure).

A few weeks previously, Darcy had been complaining of her husband being gone so often to one friend in particular, Emma (who currently worked as a marine biologist down in Sydney). For her part Emma had listened and very much been a metaphorical shoulder to cry on. But it wasn’t like she had a superhero husband herself, and so her advice wasn’t the most helpful (however well intentioned it was). Jane too (her work bestie and Science Overlord) was little help. After all James, while a super soldier who could carry her one armed over his shoulder, was not a God.

So Darcy suffered. She dealt with sleepless nights and pent up frustration while Bucky was away on missions. Which wasn’t so bad, as he had been kept to shorter jobs until he was deemed fit for long term, infiltration-esque missions. The only problem was that he had passed those examinations with flying colours and would now be going out into the field for months at a time, doing what Winter Soldiers do best (aside from giving the best back rubs known to man). Darcy had thought that was the end of it, her friends believed they had helped, and her husband didn’t know about her issues. Darcy really needed to learn that she was routinely wrong.

Bucky had continued to check the mail, it would be brought up to their apartment in the wee hours of the morning and without fail, he would look it all over in the kitchen. Darcy would usually get up some time in the middle of this procedure and go join him, sitting together at their little dining table while she waited for her coffee to kick in. On this particular morning though, their routine had changed. Darcy did not wake up (due to the intense nature of the previous night's activities), and Bucky went through his routine alone. It also happened that on this particular morning Darcy received a package from Emma.

When Darcy finally did come to, she left the bedroom and shuffled slowly down the hall (because ow, she was sore, not everyone had super healing James), finally coming to an abrupt stop upon reaching the kitchen. She didn’t know if she actually wanted to go in, based on her husband's stormy expression. In fact, her body seemed to notice that, based on his glare, this might not be the best place for her at all and had started to subconsciously back up. That was until she heard him growl (because apparently Sergeant Stone Age was a thing now) out a harsh, “Don’t. Come sit. We need to talk”.

Darcy Elizabeth Lewis-Barnes was a brave woman. She had tazed a god, regularly faced off against the famous wit of Tony Stark, and married The Goddamn Winter Soldier (trademark pending, courtesy of the previously mentioned Tony Stark). But the phrase “we need to talk” never boded well for anyone in a relationship, so she shakily went to her usual place across from him, and sat.

Bucky leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as his eyes narrowed, “Am I not enough for you?” he asked, sounding more broken and insecure than had probably been intended.

Darcy, to her credit, was actually able to form a coherent response as her panic gently subsided, “What? No. Honey you’re perfect. Literally cut from marble, the stuff of Greek myth perfect. Why would you even ask that?”.

Bucky nodded, seemingly satisfied with the voracity of whatever she had said (super spies and their super ways, she really shouldn’t dwell). Moving to reach under the table, he picked up the box by his feet, “Your friends sent you this,” he said as he opened it, revealing what appeared to be a miniature model of his metal arm, “and I thought you were hiding something from me”.

Darcy inspected the arm, not fully understanding what it was for a moment. When she finally remembered her conversation with Emma she barked out a laugh, “Oh honey no, this, you see, Emma and I were talking”, Bucky raised an eyebrow in response, prompting her to continue, “Right. You want more details, details are good. Communication is good. Okay, well we were talking right? And I mentioned how, with you being posted on longer assignments, I was feeling lonely. But I didn’t want to tell you, because superhero business is literal apocalypse aversion, and wife pleasing isn’t”. It would appear that it was now Bucky’s turn to look guilty. He ducked his head, folding his arms in his lap, and started shaking? No that wasn’t shame, that was laughter. The asshole found this funny!

“Oh dollface, you only had to tell me. I don’t have to go on those longer missions, I just thought you might want some time away from me.” he glanced up from under his eyelashes and damn her if she didn’t know exactly what he was doing with his puppy dog eyes and innocent expression.

“Honey, your missions are important. Please don’t go changing them on my account” she replied evenly (see Jane? She could be mature!).

James got a sour look on his face, startlingly similar to that one time she had made him try Toxic Waste, “But dollface, don’t you just want the real thing? I know my hand is much better than whatever this...thing...could do” he breathed out, looking at her as if to dare an objection.

It could never be said that Darcy Elizabeth Lewis-Barnes backed down from a challenge. Instead she straightened up, lifted her chin in utter defiance, and retorted, “Well dear, I don’t know. We haven’t tested this new one out yet. I’m sure it could work just as well as your arm, maybe even better. It is a new model after all”.

At his silence and blank stare she wondered if perhaps she had finally won an argument against him. Except, oh no, he looked predatory again, like a hunter ready to pounce on its prey, and given the lack of other people in the room that prey was her. Nothing good ever came from that look, she still had the lovebites from last week's battle of wills to prove it.

“Hmmm,” he mused, placing his hand on his chin, “what I’m hearing is that we need to test them both out, so I can prove you don’t need this...toy?” he asked, or rather, demanded. James didn’t actually wait for an answer as he dove across the table and swept his darling wife into his arms, walking back to their bedroom with Darcy held safely over his shoulder.

Darcy Elizabeth Lewis-Barnes knew when to pick her battles, and she also knew when to compromise. James didn’t stop going on longer missions, but he made her promise to get rid of the arm. And she did, get rid of it from the apartment that is. It wasn’t kept in their home anymore, instead resting in her drawer at work. If she took it back with her on particularly lonely nights when he was away, well it wasn’t like he needed to know.

[sparklecryptid]

Prompt? Hmm, let's make it gay then. How about Luna confusion on Azura existence and how she just knows something just change about the prophecy. Something that makes Gentiana scared? Glad? But before Luna can find her answer she met this woman that feel familiar to her magic. The one the glaives whisper 'twice born' when they thought she didn't hear them. The one who just smile at her, oh no, she's hot. Basically, Luna had her first gay crush and panic about it.

let’s make it gay is my motto tbh

It starts when two woman, one with blue eyes and a mad cackle on her lips, and the other with white eyes and white hair but both of them reeking of magic, stumble through Luna’s door when she’s supposed to be locked away from the fighting taking place on the lower levels of her estate.

The one with blue eyes grins at her.

“Come on, Princess,” she says and the white haired woman sighs, “The Charmless Prince sent us, want a ride outta here?”

The woman with white hair raises a brow and looks at her companion. “And you have a way to get us out, Azura?”

“I don’t,” Azura cheerfully replies, before her smiles turns dangerous and sad as she looks at Gentiana behind Luna, “But she does.”

“Am I to offer the Warrior a favor?” Gentiana has an edge to her voice but she sounds amused to say the least. 

“Aye,” Azura says, “You’re to get us out of here, or you’re little Princess will die by her Imperial overlords.”

Gentiana sighs. A snap of her fingers and then all three mortal woman are encased in ice.

“I’ll see you to the Lucian border,” she says, “But no further.”

-

“I think that worked out well,” Azura says, stretching as the three of them sit around a fire.

“We could have died,” the other woman says, but her grin is eye catching and Luna can feel her heart in her chest when she looks at the other, “But then again, that is always a risk with you.”

Luna feels herself raise her eyebrows. “Is it?” she asks, “It would appear I’m keeping dangerous company.”

Both women in front of her laugh.

“Oh, my lady,” the blind one says, “You have no idea.”