#1899 drabble

[lafiametta]

I can't decide on which one to choose between Touching #28 or #35 so you can choose which ever one you want or you can do them both or you can somehow merge them into the same oneshot. Whatever you want!

There was another request for #28, so I'm going to go with #35 ("kissing their bruises and scars"). I've based this on some of the gifsets and behind-the-scenes images I've seen; giving Olek these scars was clearly an intentional detail (no doubt part of his backstory), although there's no explanation for them in the show.

Olek had little experience with women.

His brothers used to tease him, calling him a monk or sometimes Saint Olek, but the truth was he was mostly shy. Girls made him nervous, the way they looked at you, the way they laughed behind their hands, and by the time he felt confident enough to start looking back he was already gone from the village, in a camp full of men working in the oil fields. There were a few women there, it was true, but they were the kind you paid for, and besides being shy, Olek was also poor.

Perhaps that helped explain why the girl in his arms seemed like nothing less than a revelation. Ling Yi was so beautiful, from a world far beyond the earthy reality of his own, but for some reason she had chosen him. He still could not entirely believe it, although she worked to convince him of it every time they were together, curling her arms around his neck and peppering him with kisses. And so what Olek lacked in experience, he did his best to make up for with enthusiasm.

They did not always have the luxury of time, often having to wait until night, when their absence was less likely to be noticed. But occasionally they found moments during the day, slipping away from the others to find some quiet corner or deserted stairwell. One afternoon, Ling Yi pulled him into an empty second-class stateroom and behind the locked door they reached for each other, laughing and kissing as they stumbled toward the bed.

The golden afternoon light spilled from the porthole as they lay there, most of their clothes having been discarded along the way. Olek brushed his callused fingers along her collarbone and the shallow indentations of her ribs, barely breathing for all that he was in awe. It was hard to imagine anything as perfect as she was, delicate and soft as down, so warm under his touch.

Ling Yi did not let his explorations go unanswered, and it was clear she was curious, her wide gaze taking in as much of him as she dared. Her fingertips traced the ridges of his brow, then skimmed the slope of his nose, before dipping lower to his throat and down the center of his chest. It was all he could do not to shiver.

Her hand stilled, stopping as it reached the right side of his chest. Olek held his breath, unsure what her reaction would be. Against an otherwise smooth expanse of skin lay a spiderweb of puckered flesh, measuring about the width of her palm.

She let her fingers run along the pale lines, her gaze following, and with her touch Olek began to feel the stirrings of shame. It was terrible to look at, and he knew if she kept looking, it would not be the only one she found. There was a matching burn mark along his left side, and still other scars, other places he had bruised and bled. He didn’t want to think about it, but it was true. Compared to her, what was his body but a map of imperfections, a reflection of hard-worn life he had been given?

Ling Yi glanced back up at him, her dark eyes wide and serious.

"How?" she asked in halting English.

What could he tell her? It wasn't something he liked to remember, much less talk about. What he mostly recalled was the pain, incandescent and searingly deep, and the aroma of hot pitch mixed with what he realized was his own burning flesh. The bosses called it an accident—another worker had let a lantern overturn, setting an overflowing barrel alight—but before it had happened, Olek had noticed the other man's stumbling gait, the smell of cheap liquor on his breath. He had spent less than a day in the camp infirmary before they sent him back out to the fields, the bandages still weeping.

Olek pressed his lips together, his mind sifting through the foreign words, even though he found little to aid him.

"Fire," he finally told her.

Ling Yi nodded, although her expression remained blank. She would probably turn away now, not wanting to look at his marred skin any longer—and he wouldn't blame her. How could she not be at least a little repulsed by what she saw?

But then she moved closer, her head dropping down, and Olek stilled in shock as he realized what she was doing. Her lips gently pressed against the ridges of his scar, soft as a blessing, an unspoken gesture that it did not take him long to understand. It is part of you, she seemed to say, and I will take it along with the rest.

And yet for all the sweetness of her kiss, it burned just the same, searing heat of a new and different kind swiftly igniting across his skin.

[send me an Olek x Ling Yi kissing or touching prompt]

[feinv]

omg idea hear me out

lowhonor arthur morgan is having dinner with farmer's daughter reader and her father

what her father didn't know isthat arthur and reader were having a sort of teasing banter under the table... do u get me

write this however u want ofc nsfw or not -🎀

what if not under the table but on the table? ;)

low!honor arthur x fem!reader. flashbacks of smut.

the clinking of the silverware was accompanying the three of you as you were having dinner, your dad and arthur engaged in a conversation you weren’t even part of.

he was a bad man. that’s what everyone was saying, especially when it came collecting the money that was owned to his gang, and your father was unfortunately on that list of people. arthur made a deal with him that he would get every one third of what your dad earned by selling the goods from the garden.

of course, he could demand more than one third. he could demand half. hell, he could demand the whole income to match his reputation, but having your father pay small amounts just gave him an excuse for coming to your house more often. an excuse he needed to see you.

he was infatuated with you, from the very beginning; how nervous you were around him; how your hands were shaking a little when handing him the money; how your cheeks would burn when he stood a little too close to you. he knew he was a goner when he saw a sweet thing like you and didn’t want to ruin it. he just wanted to have it. to have you. and he did. ;)

so while him and your father were carrying a discussion, your own thoughts were occupied with the flashbacks of what you and arthur did yesterday, blood rushing to your cheeks every time he glanced your way and gave a knowing smirk.

————————————-————————————

your back was flat on the wood, sprawled over the same exact table as he pounded into you, standing tall on the edge of the furniture. the back of your thighs was pressed to his torso, your feet on each side of his head as his hips jerked back and forth, his rough hands gripping the fat of your thighs and soothing them every now and then.

“ye feel so good, sweetheart.” his baritone voice praising you when you replied back with moans and whimpers, his swollen tip kissing your cervix and sending jolts of pleasure all over your body.

he leaned closer, the back of your ankles resting on his shoulders as he bent you in half, thrusting deeper. “prettiest girl i’ve seen,” kissing your soft lips hungrily, swallowing your whines, “even more prettier for me like this,” before his own chapped ones left open mouthed love bites wherever he could reach.

he made you see stars so many times you lost the count, your body so limp the only thing you could register were his love confessions in between his own groans, promising to get you out of the creaky old house and giving you anything you would ever ask for. <3

[theworldfallsup]

For the prompt thing: Clémence and Tove domestic fluff?

Okay so this isn't domestic because I got carried away, but it's still fluff so I hope it still counts <3

Read this on ao3!!

Summary: It wasn't long after Maura woke that she managed to wake the others in her room. But the transition from the simulation to their new reality is hard, and sometimes we need support. It may be difficult, but Tove learns to be okay resting on someone else for a change.

The silence was uncomfortable. Not just because everyone was still acclimating to waking from the simulation, but the new “ship” lacked the white noise that had been ever-present on the Kerberos. Here, there wasn’t any groaning as metal shifted to changing pressures, no calming brush of the waves as the hull parted the seas before them. It was just quiet, and there was something eerie about how thick the air was in the various chambers they had managed to gain access to.

“Mind if I join you?” Words that, though a question, were said more like a statement, as Clémence lowered herself onto the ledge with Tove. The Prometheus was clearly massive (that much they could tell simply by looking out the windows), but it felt impossibly claustrophobic. Perhaps that’s why Tove was spending so much time in the rafters above the mess hall.

Tove turned her head, looking up at the sound of Clémence’s voice. It was still so strange to not just hear her voice, but to understand it as well. The days she could remember from their time in the simulation were fraught with chaos, people shouting over each other in a cacophony of languages. Then there was the isolation on the last day of realizing that there was no one left to communicate with her.

Her surprise must have been evident on her face, because it wasn’t long before Clémence was apologizing for disturbing her. Tove eked out a small smile, trying to assure her that she was welcome here, then turned her head back down. The black uniforms they had woken up wearing laid flat against her stomach, no longer round and full of life. Sure, she was relieved to know that the traumatic pregnancy was only a figment of the simulation, but Tove couldn’t shake the grief she felt at losing something so close to her, so integral to who she was on the Kerberos, even if it may never have existed in the first place.

“It’s no worry at all, a bit of company would probably be good right now,” Tove said softly, trying to focus on her feet swinging ever so slightly in the space below where they were sitting. Though she had been wearing boots for as long as she could remember—though exactly just how long was that?—this current pair felt so foreign. And yet, to Tove, it seemed like Clémence’s outfit fit her perfectly: the black tight around her collarbone, with just a hint of an angular clavicle peeking out from underneath, and the overalls making her legs look so slender and long, just like those final hours on the Prometheus. At the time, Tove had no idea what she had been saying. But the look on Clémence’s face when she changed into those trousers, that was a look that Tove was happy to keep replaying on her mind’s cinema screen.

“How are you holding up?” Clémence asked, leaning forward ever so slightly to try to catch a bit of Tove’s gaze, but not so far as to give the appearance of prying. It had only been a few days since they had all awoken in their new metallic home, and everyone seemed to be handling it differently.

Tove peered over a tad, just enough to see a look of genuine concern on the other’s face. It comforted her to know that there was at least one person here who cared.

“I–…it’s been…” she hesitated, in part because the English felt so strange rolling across her tongue and slipping past her lips. Tove knew that she knew the words in her mind, but couldn’t place how she had ever grown to know them at all. All she had really spoken in the simulation was Danish, but as the two of them sat there, she struggled to recall any words in the language. Do I really speak this? Am I actually from where I think I’m from? The line between what was real and what was just lines of code planted in her memory was blurry from the moment she stumbled out of her pod, and it wasn’t getting any clearer as time wore on. She felt trapped, in a sense, knowing that the Kerberos was only in their minds, but not feeling like the new Prometheus was quite right either. In some ways, she felt like she had exchanged on metal prison for another; the echo of cool metal reverberating through the inaccessible stairways on a ship, replaced with a sea of chrome, spiraling in every which way and beyond.

Tove realized that her confusion and pain must have been evidence on her face, because a few beats later a warm hand was on her shoulder, and a thumb rubbing small circles just below on her collarbone.

“It’s okay, we can just sit in silence if you prefer.” A breath Tove didn’t even realize she was holding ghosted out of her. Instinctively, she leaned into Clémence’s touch, closing her eyes and trying to ground herself underneath those slender, petite fingers—not so heavy so as to feel restrictive, yet not so light that the black suit impeded the comfort from seeping into Tove’s bones.

As she leaned over, Tove expected to meet some resistance. Instead, she felt Clémence’s hand trace along the top of her back, ever so gently, coming to a rest on the opposite shoulder and pulling her closer. Tove allowed herself to relax, releasing the tension in her muscles she didn’t realize she was carrying. Slowly, yet surely, Tove sank lower and lower until her head was resting in Clémence’s lap. One hand stayed on her shoulder, while Clémence’s free hand moved to brush through Tove’s hair. Small circles on the scalp, then soft pulls through the blonde locks that seemed to shine in a new way here, free of the dirt and grime on the Kerberos.

A beat went by…

…then another…

…and another.

After what felt like either minutes or years (perhaps both at the same time), Tove broke the silence. “Is it bad that I miss the simulation?” Her words reverberated throughout the space, disturbing the still air around them. “At least there I felt sure of who I was.”

Tove held her breath as she waited for an answer, unsure whether she meant for there to be. Lying, waiting, she could feel the gentle movement of Clémence’s chest rising and falling with her breath. Tove found comfort in the warmth surrounding her, a welcome repose from the bitter chill of being at sea. When she first encountered Clémence, even though she couldn’t understand her, Tove felt safe in her presence. Somehow, she was always there when Tove needed support in her darkest moments. Perhaps that’s why she felt so comfortable being vulnerable with her.

“I don’t think it’s bad at all. It was all we knew, and now this is something so different, so strange…” Clémence let her words taper off, briefly lifting her gaze from her lap to scan the room. The windows dotting where the walls met the ceiling let her peer out into the dark sky, distant stars shining like little pin pricks making holes in a piece of fabric. Is it still a sky?

Clémence understood exactly how Tove felt. Well, perhaps not exactly, but similarly enough. She would be lying if she said there weren’t things she missed about the simulation, as well. Here, the air felt stale, and she longed for the salty breeze to whip up from the waves, stinging her nose on its way to settling in her hair; it felt static on the Prometheus, and she missed the rocking of the ship, lulling her to sleep. It had all felt so…real to her.

But it wasn’t real. And how can I miss something that never really existed?

Her fingers stilled for a brief moment as Clémence sighed. “We will get used to this, I’m sure of it. Just as the ship felt real, eventually this will, too.” She wasn’t sure if she actually believed her words or not, but she needed them to be true. “And while it may take time, you don’t have to figure it out alone.”

“I’ve never felt alone when I’m with you,” Tove spoke softly, her gentle words almost like a prayer. She didn’t know whether she had always had this connection with her in the simulation, or if she had even met Clémence before this most recent iteration, but Tove felt at peace in her presence. There had been something about her aura, the way she carried herself such that even at the height of the chaos, Tove knew she would be safe from harm.

A few moments passed. They were still surrounded by silence, but it wasn’t stifling like it had been before. Despite her desire to stay in Clémence’s lap forever, Tove pushed herself back up into a sitting position. “We should probably return to the group, I’m sure they are missing us,” Tove said, her face settling back into its characteristic stoicism, projecting an air of confidence even when she had none. As Tove went to stand up, placing her hands on her sides to help steady herself, she felt that familiar warmth cover her hand.

“I’m sure we can take a few more moments.” A pause. “If you want, of course,” Clémence rushed out, as if it were an afterthought. A light pink blush tinted her cheeks, and she wondered if perhaps she had been too forward with her request. From what she could remember of their time on the Kerberos, Clémence had felt drawn to Tove, relishing the time she had in her presence. She was envious of how strong Tove appeared, so unafraid of anything that came across her path.

Tove’s stiffened arm held its position for a few moments (that felt like a lifetime to Clémence) before relaxing as she sat back down. A small smile peaked through the more serious demeanor, the crack in the wall that Tove had always put up to protect herself from the harshness of the world. She scooted as close to Clémence as the small space would let her. When Clémence went to put her arm around her, Tove cut her off with her own arm and pulled her to rest on her shoulder.

If a small gasp left Clémence’s lips at the action, it was quickly stifled by a sigh of relief, then of contentment. She let herself be moved freely, their bodies now flush together as her head rested on Tove’s shoulder. A new gasp now, one that Clémence couldn’t stifle, as she felt a soft, gentle kiss placed tenderly on the crown of her head.

“Always.”

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Older Times

Requested: No

Warnings: Smut, Adultery, mentions of forced prostitution, prostitution, fem!reader (Ghost and Graves only)

Summary: A few short little drabbles of a few Call of Duty characters in older times, particular around the times of kings and queens everywhere.

Characters: Price, Ghost, Gaz, Graves

Word Count: 1899 Words

Concubine x King!Price

“Will you see her tonight?” You ask him when he slips out from beneath the covers, back turned to you and spine rigid as he grabs his clothes from off of the floor. So ready to leave as if he hadn’t just spent the better part of the last few hours buried between your thighs, cock buried inside of you and dumping his seed deep inside when he was done. He didn’t need to ask who you meant. You didn’t care to clarify either.

“She is my wife.” He whispers to you, like you needed to be reminded of that fact. As if the thought didn’t keep you up at night, as if it didn’t plague you all day when you sat in this bed and waited for him to come back to you. Like you didn’t envy her for all the ways she got to be with him in the light, when your time with him could only ever be in the night. “It is expected that I will stay with her some nights. Try to make a few heirs to carry on my line. It is nothing new to you.”

You hum, reaching your hand out and grasping for his wrist, your words a solemn plea. Eyes drowned in sorrow. He wouldn’t look at you, because he knew what he would see. He knew he’d look inside your sad eyes and he’d stay, when he was demanded elsewhere. When he had duties to fulfill to someone he didn’t want. Someone he could never want, when you held all the keys to his heart in the palm of your hand.

“I love you.” You whisper, making him throw his head back with a curse before burying his face between his calloused hands. Defeated, and all torn up inside. Like your words were a butcher’s knife, and you were just slashing around under his skin. Like your sad voice was killing him more than any sword or lance could ever attempt to do.

“I love you too.” He sighed, his voice cracking at the end. And then he got up, kicked on his rugged leather boots and loosely shrugged on his shirt, leaving you all alone in this bed. The bed you always shared with him, when he came to you. Silk sheets sliding smoothly against your skin as you turned over in the bed, just so you wouldn’t have to see the door as it swung close. But try as you might, you couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks when you heard the click of the door as it shut behind him.

Knowing you were his, but he could never be yours.

Adulterous Queen x Knight!Ghost

Guilt. The feeling hung heavy in Simon’s heart as he held your legs around his waist, feeling them shake with every inward thrust, your quivering moans reverberating in his ears like the music of angels. The creaking of the bed like a violin, the squelch of your insides like a drum. A beautiful composition, meant to reel him in and drown him, a siren song to lure him to his death. A deserved one, that he rushed towards eagerly like a green boy in his first battle.

“Simon.” And oh, your voice. He’d heard a thousand symphonies played for his king, and for you, but none could ever match the beauty of his queen moaning his name like that. Not even heaven’s own choir could fill him up with such bliss. “Simon, more.”

“I’ll always give you as much as you want.” He panted, hot and wild against your lips, bucking harder and faster in a way that made you tighten up so deliciously for him. His word was his law, except apparently not when it came to those he’d said to his king. The words he’d sworn the day he was knighted, to defend him and keep his trust. But now here he lay, an oathbreaker as he plowed into his King’s wife, with the promise to fill her belly full of the seed leaking from his aching tip. And he wondered, briefly, if that seed would take root in your womb and give his king an heir with his brown eyes. A thought that nearly made him spill.

Backstabber. Deceiver. Oathbreaker.

“Simon.” Your voice called through the waves of his lust. He could feel your legs tensing, could see the whites of your eyes as your pupils rolled back into your head and your back arched off of the mattress. TIghter strung then any bow hung up in the armory. “Simon!”

“My Queen.” Was his returning words as he laid himself atop you, his full weight pressing you back down, his lips sealing against yours to swallow those beautiful noises that would one day, without a doubt, put his head on a spike as a warning to all others. He doubted it would work, when your smile was like sunshine, and your voice was akin to that of a mermaid’s song drifting across the sea. You were a temptress, sin given form. No man could resist.

Especially not him. Never him.

“I love you.” Were the words that finally snapped the coil in his belly, and he pulled back to rest his forehead against yours, staring at your eyes and the glimmering tears that dripped from them. And he knew that hellfire awaited him for his transgression, but it was worth it all to be here with you. To hold you. To love you.

Knight x Squire!Gaz

“Something troubling you?” Your voice asks, breaking him out of his train of thought, brown eyes snapping up to yours. Your training sword was lowered, as was your voice, concern bleeding through the normally tough exterior of his mentor. “You seem out of it today. Are you ill?”

“No.” Kyle insists, shaking his head rapidly. Perhaps a bit too fast judging by the way you narrow your eyes at him. “Just….getting caught up in my own head. I’m sorry.” He says, like one would discuss concerns of rain or heat, and not that his thoughts were of you on your hands and knees as he feeds you his cock from behind.

Your eyes tell him that you’re unconvinced but you don’t question him again, but your gaze follows him all throughout the rest of the day. Boring into his skull, like you had notched an arrow and loosed it straight into his brain, scrambling his thoughts that were barely there before. Draining him of all his wits and replacing them with visions of you eyeing his cock with that same look of haughty disappointment you gave him whenever you knocked him down into the dirt. His prick always gave a few telltale twitches whenever you stood above him like that. Maybe you would press the heel of your boot to it? Maybe make him rut against your shin like a filthy mutt only to chastise him about the mess he was making all over your greaves, making the shiny metal look all filthy and disgusting. And oh, the thought of you forcing his head down to make him clean up his mess.

Sweating, he nervously tried to fan himself with his gambeson, so hard and fast that it was like he was trying to fan away these depraved thoughts as well. Blow them into the breeze and hope that they drifted far far away from you. Or maybe….maybe towards you, so that you could perhaps feel this same sweltering need burning you up from the inside, the same as him.

“I think that’s enough for today.” You sigh as you settle your training dword on the holding rack, reaching for the one you usually keep at your waist. “And Garrick?”

“Hmm?” Kyle hums, perking up and looking alert, looking at you for his next instructions. Was he to do lone training now? Guard duty? Or perhaps you would simply tell him to bugger off.

“Do something about your prick already. It was poking at me the whole match.” You said before walking away, leaving him slack jawed and warm faced, sparring sword dropped to the ground.

Brothel Madam x Graves

The scent of cum and rum filled the air, an overwhelming stench that could make your belly rumble with either want or nausea, depending on how well acquainted you were with such establishments. No longer were you a young girl with nowhere else to turn to for money, but the head of the brothel. But despite that, you didn’t think you’d ever get used to the smell, nor the sight of so many women getting dragged off into the various rooms with their John of choice for the night. Smiling and eager, you made sure each one felt comfortable working in such a profession. So different from you, who had started because you hadn’t eaten in a week. Your first customer had filled your belly with seed instead of food, and you hadn’t been able to change professions ever since. You suppose it isn’t all bad. The girls can be spiteful witches, but they look out for each other when they are scorned by everyone else. And if a John ever got too rough, then you knew they’d all form a mob just to pay him back.

“Mind if I take up your time tonight, pretty thing?” A heavily accented voice cooed by your ear, and you couldn’t stop the small bashful smile that rose on your lips when you turned around to see the same handsome noble who shined his favor upon you whenever he could. Beautiful golden tresses and sparkling blue eyes, like something that came out of a dream.

“I don’t know.” You hummed coyly, eyes darting to the hand he hid behind his back. Another present for you, perhaps? “I fear my suitor may be opposed to such a scandalous idea, he is to arrive soon.”

“Oh? Mustn’t upset your suitor then.” He huffed, a twinkle of amusement sparking in his eyes, reserved only for you. “Though I have to say, I think he’d be a bit upset that his woman is out here in a place like this.”

“Hmm? Maybe he likes it.” You tease, already knowing where this conversation was going. The same one you’d been dodging for years. You were beginning to think you’d be dodging it the rest of your life.

Run away with me.

“Now, I doubt that.” He whispered, the mirth in his eyes replaced with something angrier. If there was one thing he didn’t like, it was you being here. “I outta think a man wants his lady waiting for him at home, her arms open, her eyes shining. Happy. Safe.”

“Who says I’m not either of those things?” You ask, like your heart didn’t break every time he left you. Like you didn’t long to stay home with him and huddle together under piles of furs during the cold winter’s night. His responding head tilt and narrowing eyes told you he already knew the truth of the matter, it was no use trying to hide it from him so you just craned your neck down to avoid his gaze. It only made him sigh before he slipped a little box into your hand.

“Just think about it.” He whispered, running his palm over your warming cheek. “For me, dear heart.”

[sjsmith56]

Short Fiction Masterlist - multi-part stories

A Better Man - 10 parts AU. Bucky Barnes, a general contractor who also provides services for criminals, falls in love with the single mother of a baby girl. The baby’s father is connected to one of his rivals. Can he be the better man for her?

Away Mission - 4 part story. Bucky cuts all ties with the Avengers and his OFC girlfriend, deliberately keeping them in the dark when he is asked by Nick Fury to undertake a dangerous undercover mission. Each part has alternate POV between gf and Bucky.

Chance Encounter - 4 part story (plus a small Drabble) of an act of courtesy leading to a major revelation for Bucky that will change his life.

Complicated - Three part story of Bucky giving a ride to a runaway bride that becomes complicated by who she was supposed to marry.

Customer Service - 2 part story. Bucky shows up at the store where his ex-girlfriend works to return something. When Sam asks for help in buying Bucky a suit she helps him out. Angst and fluff.

Dates - Three part story - A visit to his old apartment brings Bucky in contact with the new tenant. With Sam’s help, he asks her out for a first date, a double date with Steve, then ghosts her for the third date until Sam intervenes.

Snowfall - coming soon. 4 parts planned. The threat of a stalker brings Bucky into the team protecting an attractive writer but they’ve already fallen for each other. How can he do his job when he’s emotionally involved with his client?

The Fae Elements - Six Seven part story. Bucky Barnes as a fae king in the modern world courting an environmental lawyer. The dark fae want her as well. Teaser link.

The Flame Burns From Within - Six part story set in medieval times. Lord Barnes comes to claim the hand of the woman he has been betrothed to since her birth 21 years before. Others object to his claim.

The Gilded Age - Seven part Avengers / Bucky Barnes AU set in 1899. Slightly steampunk story of Bucky falling for the new librarian at the Society of Heroic Individuals and Estimable Lofty Deeds (SHIELD).

Two Steps to the Left - This is an AU four part "what if Bucky didn’t fall from the train story” with a final touch of the cap to a Disney + Marvel series. 

We Danced - Three part story of Bucky meeting a lawyer in Washington, then reconnecting with her in Paris and then New York, where they both realize they have something very special.

You Get What You Need - Two part story in Avengers AU where Bucky learns his former girlfriend had his baby, and is now dying of cancer. Her only hope is a medical treatment developed by Bruce Banner using Steve Rogers’ blood.

Tumblr Masterlist

[chlerc]

ᯓ★ CHARLES LECLERC .ᐟ

DRABBLE(S):

— last night | 796 ! Charles swore he wouldn't be here again, yet he finds himself at your doorstep wanting to celebrate his race win with you one last time. But he finds himself asking for more than one last night.

— player ten | 925 ! Charles being at the San Siro Stadium to watch a football match, yet he's staring at you instead. Although you might be a player's girlfriend, is he ever going to pass on this opportunity?

— tidal wave | 1147 ! Flood it like a tidal wave, they always said. That’s what she did but with song recommendations his way, would Charles get the hint though?

— what he wants | 870 ! For my back burner girls. Once a guy says he’s not ready, he would never be ready even if you give him all the time in the world. Losing you hits harder than he thought though.

— one last time | 930 ! She’s always telling herself it’d be the last time she’d drop everything she has just for Charles, yet every last time seemed never ending.

SOCIAL MEDIA AU(S) :

— acts of service ! His actions always mattered more than his words to you, it’s been the case with Charles since he saw you in highschool.

ONESHOT(S) :

— position rose | 2301 ! Charles finds himself holding a bouquet of roses in his hands right at the doorstep of his own apartment where his best-friend is right inside. What is he going to do with those roses?

— times it mattered | 1899 ! An arranged marriage would never come between two people if they ever made the effort, Charles did exactly that. Being apart of her life and showing his love through actions instead.

— stages of promises | 2840 ! His subtle promises to his wife gradually increases with responsibilities in each stage, all because he couldn’t keep out of her life like he said.

— did i do that? | 2280 ! He never realised the subconscious actions he took just to make sure she was safe and sound, not even when his friends teased him for it, he always shrugged it off.

[sickvictorianangel]

✩ Cardigan ✩

Arthur Morgan x Gender Neutral Reader

Just a little drabble inspired by the song Cardigan (Taylor Swift). I had this idea about the reader (any gender you like), reminiscing about their relationship with Arthur, before the tuberculosis.

TW: All my stories are 18+, illness, dealing with loss, grief, typical game violence. Minors DNI!

My other fanfics ♡

Tag list: @margofiore

♡ Dividers by Saradika ♡

♡ Dividers (DNI) by CafeKitsune ♡

“Cause I knew you

Steppin' on the last train

Marked me like a bloodstain,

I knew you

Tried to change the ending

Peter losing Wendy…”

The sun was setting somewhere in the west, leaves were falling, the cold air was nipping at every bit of my exposed skin. There I was, seated on a cold bench, waiting for the next train to come. And all I could think about was You. 

The year is 1907 and things are changing abruptly. The modern times you were so afraid of are finally here. People are turning more and more enslaved to their jobs and to a society that only cares about power and money. Same thing that destroyed the life I once knew, and the same thing that took you from me. I still think about you, I still miss you and I still love you, Arthur Morgan.

Every page of your journal is a memory coming to life. John gave it to me after you were gone. And talking about him, You did it, you gave them a safe life. John and Abigail are now finally married, Jack has a safe home and has a chance to become something better than what we once were. Uncle is tagging along (he is the same lazy old man, some things never change, apparently), Charles and Sadie joined them for some time too. Everyone else survived, Pearson owns a general store in Rhodes, Tilly is married and living a beautiful life in Saint Denis. Mary-Beth is a known writer, the Reverend is now in New York living an honest life, and Dutch… Well, we don’t know much about him, Karen,Javier and Bill. And Micah… Micah is gone. John couldn’t live peacefully if he knew Micah was still alive and well. I know you would be against us trying to avenge you, but we had to do it. For you, my love. 

And me…? Oh dear, I am still stuck in 1899. The time when everything was easier, when you were here with me. Turning back some pages, I’ve found a drawing of my face, sleeping in the Blackwater hotel’s bed. I can feel everything so vividly, the smell of tobacco and whiskey still lingers on me. Your turquoise eyes staring at the depths of my soul, your warm touch on my skin. Your dry but soft lips, always kissing me with passion. Your lovely words ringing in my ears. Your laughter, your smile, the tears you tried to hide so many times. All I can think about is you. It has been years since you passed, but for me it still feels like yesterday. It is too soon for me to move on. And my love, I would never fully be over you.  

You were everything I knew, since I was young, it was always you. I remember joining the gang when you and I were both in our 20s. You were heartbroken from all the pain life threw on you. For me, it was love at the first sight. You were so beautiful, kind and loyal. It always makes me smile when I remember you bringing me a cup of coffee every morning you were at camp. Always telling me about your adventures. The craziest stories someone could ever tell. I could always count on you to cheer me up, to hug my pain and sadness away. But my favorite memory about you is when we both confessed our love for each other… I still dream about this day. Your presence hunts me everywhere, Arthur. All the places you’ve been. All the things we did together. In every corner I can see you. In every person you helped, in all the places you bled… The place where I last saw you, the place you saw your last sunrise and the place your body was laid to rest. It is always gonna be about you. And now, as I wait for my train here in Valentine, I still can feel your presence lingering. It is like the whole town is stuck in the 1800s and nothing changed. What I am about to confess, my darling, will sound so silly. But, as I stare into the nothingness, I still hope to see you. Something inside of me still hopes this is all a bad nightmare and I will wake up and you will be by my side looking healthy, strong and full of life. Because that is how I chose to remember you. 

My sweetheart, you drew stars around all my scars and now that you are not here, I was left bleeding. In a place full of people, I still feel lonely. I wish with all these new technologies, someone could build a machine able to bring you back to me. I wish there was a way for me to go back in time. To have everyone safe and happy together. Singing around the fire, drinking, dancing… To wake up with the sounds of everyone chatting. A new day starting, with you always by my side.But that will never happen, and I need to make peace with that. Now, I will just patiently wait for my time to come. So I can finally be with you, my love. 

Because I know someday, when everything passes, You will come back to me. 

[lupusbooks]

"Just think about it Albus! We could control the wold, control death himself!"

"Gellert... I don't know. Ariana is getting worse by the day, we simply just can't go on like that. Aberforth is starting to have doubts and honesty... so am I."

The young man seated in the old armchair of the Dumbledore's House, gently reached out to touch the hand of his opposite.

"Al...don't you know who is doing this to your sister? You know it, I know you do. It's them muggles. They are suppressing us! Those incompetent little muggles are going to drive us into the abyss if we don't do anything! We could change that, think about it. We could all be free! Ariana could be free."

He charmingly smiled at the red-headed boy infront of him.

But Albus Dumbledore was having doubts and that was something that Gellert Grindelwald wasn't pleased with, not one bit.

"Albus...", Gellerts voice got quieter as he knew exactly how to change the other man's mind. "We would be the most powerful wizards in the history of this world. We can do this. You and I."

Albus' breath flattened as Gellert pulled him closer towards him.

"The two of us. Forever."

It was only a quiet whisper in the room.

"Forever?"

His fingers softly wandered across Dumbledore's lips.

"Yes,", a bittersweet smile on his lips, "forever."

Softly the man pressed his lips onto the ones of the older, whose doubts immediately vanished. He only felt the other mans soft lips, his hands that slowly pushed his jacket of his shoulders, their breath becoming one. He had already long been captivated by the younger and Gellert Grindelwald knew exactly how to use that.

1899, the Dumbledores House/Godric Hollows; the evening before Ariana Dumbledores (*1885-†1899) death and the disappearance of Gellert Grindelwald (*1883-†1998).

(Wrote this little drabble years back. Pls mind I english isn't my first language.)

[thefactsofthematter]

title: now i know your name, but not who you are

i got carried away and wrote a drabble 😁 love u @we-are-inevitable

-

September, 1899

“My name isn’t really Jack.”

They’re sitting in Jack’s (or, rather, not-Jack’s) penthouse, feet dangling over the edge, watching the sunset after a long day of selling.

“What?”

Jack shrugs. He keeps his eyes fixed on the horizon. There’s a sudden tension in his demeanour that says perhaps he didn’t mean to blurt that out.

“I’m… well, my name isn’t Jack Kelly.” He takes a deep breath. “I chose that name. I wasn’t born with it.”

David is quiet for a second.

“Oh. Well, mine isn’t really David either. I suppose we’re even.”

Jack frowns.

“Actually?”

David shrugs.

“Yeah. It’s my middle name, technically.” He pauses, and then opts to elaborate. “My actual first name sounds too Jewish, so we switched the order of them when we came to America, and changed all the spellings to look more English. It’s safer that way.”

“Oh.”

It’s quiet for a moment.

“Why’d you change yours?”

Jack goes still beside David, like he’s halted even his breathing.

“I’d rather not talk about it. I don’t know why I brought it up.”

“Alright. That’s fine.”

David doesn’t push a matter when he knows it’s not worth it. He’s curious, as he always is, but there’s no satisfaction in an answer if it makes Jack upset.

It’s quiet, once again.

“My name is Francis,” Jack finally adds. “I changed it a long time ago, but sometimes I miss it… I wonder who Francis coulda been if I gave him a chance to grow up, you know?”

In a way, that’s nonsense— Jack and Francis are the same person at the end of the day— but David thinks he might get it. There’s clearly a reason Jack felt he had to reinvent himself, so the question remains: who could he have become if that mysterious reason didn’t exist?

It’s the same as how David wonders who he would’ve been had he never come to America, how different his life would be. He wouldn’t know Jack, and that in itself makes it clear that this is how things were meant to be.

“I know. He’s still a part of you, I think. I’m not sure a name can ever really leave you.” He pauses. “The name my mother gave me was Eliyahu. It’s Hebrew.”

Jack leans his head on David’s shoulder, relaxing somewhat.

“I like it.”

“Thanks.”

And they sit there for some minutes longer, watching the sunset and leaning into each other’s sides.

They’re Jack and David, and at the same time, they’re Francis and Eliyahu.

As they are, and as they once were.

Perhaps they’re one and the same.

[edwinspaynes]

Another winter drabble request (not romantic, but might be fun): A Merry Thieves-centric one. Maybe they attempt to ambush "Santa Claus" (can be set pre-TLH) or attempt meaningful good deed in the spirit of Christmas but goes hilariously wrong (set at whatever timeline, canon or divergent)

1899

"Jamie, my sworn-brother-in-arms-to-be!" Matthew smiled brightly at James, who strolled along beside him in Covent Gardens. James thought that his future parabatai might be going insane - after all, he and the Lightwood cousins had all chose to don the hats of the sane in the chill winter air, and Matthew was bare-headed as he linked his arm through James. Though he must admit that Matthew did look quite well, the winter air tinging his cheeks rosy and his blond hair infuriatingly impeccable despite the occasional wind.

"As this is your first Christmas as one of our band, we feel the compulsion to include you in our favorite annual Christmas tradition!"

"We do?" Thomas put a paper cup of sipping-chocolate to his lips. "I have been saying for years that it's time to retire that tradition, I think."

"That goes against the spirit of Tradition." Matthew waved him off. "I do believe Jamie would agree that a classic Christmas tradition ought to be preserved in amber, made immortal, worshipped as though it were the Angel itself."

"Some might call that 'blasphemy,'" Christopher piped up, and Thomas snorted.

"Anyway, dare I ask what you do every year?" James heard the suspicion creeping into his own voice.

"We ambush Father Christmas," Matthew said conspiratorily.

James blinked, thinking he must have misheard. "We what?"

"Don't think," Matthew said with a wink. "Just act." And, with that, he took off running faster than James had ever seen him move in the direction of Kris Kringle.

Thomas and Christopher ran after him at an almost equally brisk pace, Christopher laughing loudly and Thomas looking utterly mortified. But they were too late; Matthew had already approached the man dressed as Father Christmas and was offering him the Smile. The poor man in the costume laughed and reached out to ruffle Matthew's hair, and by the time James and Tom and Kit had arrived, Matthew had somehow charmed him into listening to what he wished for this Christmas.

"I do think it would be ideal if you brought me a fedora," he said jovially. "In the same style as Oscar Wilde is popularizing. Mother says she will not buy me one, and I have not yet begun to collect my allowance..."

"He'll begin getting one in January, when he turns fifteen," Thomas stage-whispered. Matthew turned to him with a pointed finger, and James couldn't help but laugh at the expression.

"My friend there shall have a growth spurt for Christmas," Matthew said.

"I'm alright," Thomas deadpanned. "Thank you."

"And he-" Matthew pointed to Kit, "will develop the good sense to only set fire to things while I am present. Otherwise, there shall be no kind soul to put it out if it spreads to his shirtsleeves, and where would we be then?"

Kris Kringle looked disturbed.

"And Jamie," Matthew said. "I think you ought to bring him two nice waistcoats and at least three hairbrushes, Father Christmas. Truly I do. Look at his hair, sticking about at all angles."

"As Thomas said," James replied. "I do not require..."

"Oh yes, you do." Matthew's voice brooked no contradiction.

James rolled his eyes.

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" Matthew put a dramatic hand to his chest. "How dare you? Whither I request perfectly reasonable Christmas gifts, thou request perfectly reasonable Christmas gifts-"

Thomas reached over and grabbed Matthew's paisley scarf, dropping his sipping-chocolate on the floor before taking off running. James laughed brightly as Christopher took off running after Thomas, no doubt to aid in his antics, and Matthew bolted off after the pair shouting about the sanctity of his wardrobe.

"Sorry," James said to Kris Kringle, who appeared frozen. "I do not know them."

As he took off running after his beloved friends, he realized what a flimsy lie this was, but he could not bring himself to care.

[tortoisesshells]

5, 13, 14, 17, and 20!

5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

Increasingly, it feels like the season 1.5 fic idea - the one where Maura from the future gets stuck in the time loop on the Kerberos, effectively starting S1 back at the start. I can't figure out all the technical details (how does Daniel react if he realizes she's not 1899!Maura any more? wouldn't he have to? how do Henry and co. react?) and there's also just - I can't square it with what I think her goals would be in Season 2, anyway. It's just an excuse to go back to the Kerberos, in the end.

13. How much planning do you do before writing?

A lot! If it's any longer than ~300 words, I go in with an outline - or at least a rough sketch of what's going to happen.

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

Answered here, but if someone wanted to film One’s A’self encounter— In lonesome place— as a deleted scene of S1 of 1899. Well. I'd be grateful.

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but William Thomas Stead, an English journalist and editor, wrote a short story called "How The Mail Steamer Went Down in Mid Atlantic by a Survivor" about the danger of sending passenger ships out without enough lifeboats to take the entire complement of crew and passengers off at the same time in 1886. Stead died on the Titanic.

20. What’s a favorite title for a fic you’ve written?

I don't feel too strongly about most of my titles - if it's a short drabble, it's a phrase from the fic; if it's a longer fic, it's almost certainly a quote from some relevant (or not so relevant?) poetry. One of the few exceptions is save me, damn you - which I shamelessly stole from dialogue in Blackwell Unbound (in which Ghost A is trying to taunt Ghost B into killing him. which. I promise it makes sense in context) and twisted it around to be about the central problem of the main characters' heroics is dooming (damning) them. I suppose it's my favorite because it's doing the most work?

Fanfic Writer Asks

[fatherramiro]

4 with starlight and star-crossed, 8, 16, 45?

4. What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of?

oh gosh, okay. this fic is really special to me for a lot of reasons but my favorite detail is how the sections connect to each other. i wanted to make sure that it flowed together and the flashbacks connected to the present moments that we saw (i.e. ángel looking at a drawing of krester and then cutting to him drawing ramiro and talking about leaving). i spent so much time outlining the general beats to make sure they all flowed together nicely and it alternated equally between ramiro and ángel's points of view. also, the general vibes of the wedding scene my beloved!!!

8. What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)?

outside of the hadestown AU in general - if i had my wits about me id write a series of nine short drabble-y character study fics set to sleeping at last's enneagram album that centers one song per section, and one character per song.

16. What’s an AU you would love to read (or have read and loved)?

beyond my beloveds which are the childhood friends AU or the baby AU, im really interested in a really good high fantasy AU. give me magic powers, give me royal intrigue, give me some drama!!!

45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic?

id say that i feel like it has really improved my ability to work on character development and plot development, especially since a lot of my fics since 2020/2021 have centered on character arcs that got cut off or were badly handled. so writing fic for me has been an exercise in exploring character and plot, especially when i wrote lost fic. in 1899 fic it is more just playing with voice and development for characters though.

[jack-kellys]

hi pidge :) what better way to spend an 8-hour rehearsal than goin through some wips

ad astra per aspera

DRABBLES (#2)

the hunted au

ONLY SO FAR

storyteller

this is all i got so lemme tag @safraberries @chair-in-a-ditch @carpe-diem-since-1899 @loving-jack-kelly @all-hail-the-witcher

WIP ask game

In a new post, list the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

was i tagged? no. fuck that. am i making this thread myself because i want to ? yeah. i make my own rules babey. not many wips bc i finished most of them with deere week! but these r the next ones i wanna tackle :3c

punk au 8

mecha au?

portside au for publish maybe fuck if i know

piano prodigy au but like actually

no pressure tags !! : @theabyssgazesalsointoyou @rising-above-stars @pigeonwit @maybe-i-should-try-harder

[hannahtheshipper]

Chapters: 1/5 Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald Characters: Albus Dumbledore, Gellert Grindelwald, The rest of the Dumbledore's family (implied) Additional Tags: Angst, Angst and Feels, Pre-Canon, teenage Albus Dumbledore, teenage Gellert Grindelwald, Albus life is ruin, Drabble Collection, Summer of 1899 Summary: the summer of 1899 in Godric Hollow

I decided, that since I came out with the anniversary project I should write something for this project as well. I was in the mood on writing some angsty stuff, but anyway, I hope you’ll like it :)

I also wrote a polish version, you can find it here

[heliads]

Peter Pan Masterlist

Magic Finds Magic - Based on this request: “Peter goes to the modern world with Emma, Snow, David as they’re looking for someone. He meets this girl and takes an interest to her. He realizes she’s the girl they’re looking for.” Imagine

like a heartbeat, drives you mad - From the moment you first dream of Neverland, you know that it’s a home unlike any other. Waking up is terrible every time, but what if you were able to find a way to stay there forever? Imagine

Trying to Live - Based on this request: “Peter pan’s plan to steal the heart of the truest believer failed, so now he has to take the heart of his soulmate. He captures her. He expects her to fight back but she doesn’t. In fact, she’s happy to give up her heart for him if it meant she wasn’t useless. He starts to feel bad that he was her soulmate.” Soulmate AU

The Act, Made Worthwhile - Based on this request: “peter pan x female reader with the prompts 1 & 5 (‘You want me to be your fake girlfriend?’ and ‘Is it asking too much to be young and in love’)?” Imagine

Secrets Told, Secrets Buried - Based on this request: “peter pan with prompts 21& 28 (‘I’ve never seen them like that with anyone else’ and ‘”You fascinate me.” “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” “I’m haven’t entirely decided yet.”’) fluff please” Imagine

Never Fail - Based on this request: “peter pan with prompts 13, 19, 25. (’If this is your way of asking me out, I’m going to need you to try a little harder’, ‘How’s the prettiest person in the world doing? I don’t know, how are you?’, and ‘Tell me you love me. I need to hear it just the once.’)” Imagine

Watching Over - Based on this request: “Peter Pan [ouat]. Reader is a quiet person but when you get to know them, they get louder.” Drabble

The Heart is Home - Based on this request: “peter pan x reader where y/n is from the maze runner. w.i.c.k.e.d was infiltrated by Peter and the lost boys. they brought y/n and other gladers to Neverland. a glader gets jealous and asks y/n to leave neverland. Peter overhears and tells y/n to stay in neverland. y/n has to choose between staying in neverland or leaving with the gladers.” Imagine

Jealousy for the Centuries - Based on this request: “reader tries to make Peter jealous but readers tactics to make him jealous go too far and reader gets kidnapped? But then he saves reader and makes up in the end" Imagine

Caught Between Threads - Based on this request: “Reader was Regina’s daughter but met Peter after Regina left Reader to be killed. She and Peter are together when Peter wants to get Henry. Reader has to confront Regina when they arrive on Neverland to get Henry back.” Imagine

Good Trouble - Based on this request: “Peter Pan took a girl from her lonely, awful home in 1899. A year later he (unknowingly) takes her twin brother to Neverland. They hang out a lot and catch up and Peter get jealous.” Imagine

The Plan - Based on this request: “peter pan fic with angst with Wendy in the beginning, but it turns out all right in the end? Friends to lovers?” Imagine

Illusions and Abductions - Based on this request: “reader is child of the Swan Queen and Siegfried? And they were sent away as a baby away from storybrooke to protect them from rumplestilskin? when Peter finds about this he kidnaps them as blackmail? But he slowly falls for them? Enemies to lovers prompt?” Imagine

Coming Back (Part One) (Part Two) - Based on this request: “peter pan ouat imagine, where y/n and peter dated before the curse and after it was cast he didn’t forget about her, and spent years looking for her. after the curse is over he finds her with henry (adopted younger sibling) and kidnaps her to Neverland and tries to make her remember him.” Imagine

Icarus and the Demon - Based on this request: “Peter pan with a gender-neutral reader? In the enchanted forest, they were known as Icarus and when they fell they landed in Neverland and Peter helped them take off the wings that were melted on their back.” Imagine

Dating Peter Pan Would Include... Headcanons

Shipwrecked (Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) - You’re a pirate aboard the Mad Man’s Queen, or at least you were until it wrecked on a coast near Neverland. You’ll need to find a way to escape the accursed island, although Peter Pan is making it awfully hard for you. Multi-Part Imagine

Hostage Situation - When Y/N L/N is kidnapped by Peter Pan to serve as a hostage and coerce her kingdom into leaving Neverland alone, she can only laugh. The mutual hatred between her and Pan, however, may lose its fire after a while. Imagine

Disappearance of a Dreamer - There’s a young girl who visits Neverland in her dreams, who comes all the time until she mysteriously vanishes one dark night. Pan doesn’t know what to think of it, until a familiar girl shows up to Neverland years later in the company of pirates. Imagine

A Change of Heart -  Everyone in the Enchanted Forest has heard the stories of the Huntress, Regina’s lethal mercenary. When she’s sent to Neverland to bring back some of the poisonous dreamshade plant, her meeting with Peter Pan will cause her to turn her back on Regina once and for all. Imagine

Silver Ring - When you’re forced to flee from your village after you were caught using your powers, you take a chance and go with the Shadow to Neverland. Peter Pan himself teaches you to use your magic, and you find yourself falling for the boy. Imagine

Cedar Trees and Lost Boys - You are a dryad, living on Neverland with your family. Will a friendship with Peter Pan blossom into something more, or is he just using you for information on the other dryads? Imagine

[wisteriashouse]

I saw percy jackson au! one the troupe's list and i never tap the ask button this fast/no. Maybe a drabble where kyo and his team lost against gn reader on capture the flag because reader keeps distracting him when they're facing each other so reader's team can take the flag? (Let's say that kyo is the strongest opponent since he can wields sword better than anyone else 😂)

Also who do u think kyo's immortal parent is? I can picture him being an apollo's son since kyo always reminded me of the sun itself hshshs -✨

pairing: rengoku kyoujurou x gn!reader

genre: fluff; pjo!au

word count: 1899

a/n: rip word count and the word drabble but here it is!! might do a pjo! au headcanon one day... this event really is no good for my soul... i hope you enjoy it!!

“Do you think we can win?”

It’s Tanjirou’s first Capture The Flag game, bless the sweet kid’s innocent soul, you think. Both of you are crouched behind a line of bushes near Zephyrus’ Creek together with the rest of your team - Blue, for this round - your weapons in hand as you wait for the scouts you’d sent out to return. 

“Well, it’s hard to say.” You try to be positive, waving your hand vaguely. Tanjirou’s eyes are fixed on you, wide with curiosity. It’s only his first week here, so he hasn’t had a chance to meet most of the older campers that have been away on missions. Lucky for him that Sanemi is probably still somewhere out in the strait of Messina with Tomioka hunting Charybdis, you think. The poor kid would have been scared off in seconds. “There are some people who could probably change the tide, but most of those people are off doing solo missions away from Camp Half Blood, so our teams are pretty balanced at the moment-”

“He’s back!” You rise to your feet at the noise to see Zenitsu (a son of Zeus), one of the scouts your team had sent out earlier, splashing his way back across the river. “Rengoku is back in Camp Half Blood!”

All around you, a collective groan rises into the air, the Athena campers behind you grumbling about how their strategies are all messed up now and they need to regroup. 

“Shot at me, the second I breathed in the flag’s direction. Missed me on purpose too, just to show off.” Grumbling when he finally reaches your team’s side of the river, Zenitsu gratefully accepts Tanjirou’s outstretched hand, the younger boy pulling him into the shelter of the bushes. “Guess we’ll be doing clean up duty for the whole of next week.”

“Now, now, Zenitsu, don’t give up so fast.” You nudge the younger boy in the side encouragingly. He’s sopping wet from his little swim in the river. “There’s still a chance! We still have Muichirou and Shinobu on our team, don’t we?”

Zenitsu lets out a whine. “But they’re not Rengoku.” He complains. The entire time, Tanjirou glances between the two of you, confused. 

“Who’s Rengoku?” 

“He’s head counselor for the Apollo cabin.” Zenitsu explains, wiping the river water off his lightning spear. “He’s one of the best fighters in the entire camp, on par with even the head counselor of the War God’s cabin, Shinazugawa Sanemi! Not to mention that he’s handsome and cool and half of the Aphrodite kids can’t help falling over themselves every time he walks by, asking him to teach them how to write love sonnets.” He gags at the words. "As if they aren't just waiting to take a piece out of him, the damn piranhas."

You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a laugh. “Well, he does write very good love poems,” you supply helpfully, and Zenitsu rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes, of course you would know, since-”

“[last], we have a new plan!” Shinobu calls airily from behind you, interrupting Zenitsu. Turning around, you see the daughter of Hecate striding up to you with a smile on her face. It’s one that you’ve seen all too many times when she’s plotting something, and now that you’re on the receiving end of that smile, you’re not quite sure that you like it.

You squint at her suspiciously. “What is it?”

“You,” Shinobu answers with her usual smile, pausing for dramatic effect, “will be in charge of distracting Kyoujurou!”

You stare at her for a moment before you shake your head furiously. “No, no, no, there’s no way I’m doing that. I’d be shot full of arrows like a porcupine before I so much as touch the flag - I’d rather clean the Pegasus stalls for a week.”

“Oh, come on, have a little confidence in yourself!” Shinobu hums, the expression on her face practically radiating nefarious intent behind her sweet smile. “There’s no way he would hurt you, he’s your boyfriend, after all.”

To your side, you see Tanjirou’s mouth form a silent ‘o’ of realization, piecing together everything you and Zenitsu had been conversing about earlier. Flustered, you shake your head again.

“This isn’t going to work!” You insist, even as Shinobu tugs you to your feet and steers you in the direction of the river. “Shinobu, you know what Kyoujurou is like! He isn’t going to be distracted by me at all!”

“Oh, I know Rengoku very well,” Shinobu’s eyes curve into little crescents. “I think you’ll find yourself surprised, [last]. All you need to do is distract Rengoku, we’ll do the rest. Our entire team is counting on you!”

Helplessly, you turn to the two boys crouched behind the bushes. Zenitsu looks like he’s trying his best not to burst into laughter, and Tanjirou, the pure hearted boy, only gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

With a sigh, you turn around and march into the Red Team’s territory all alone.

It doesn’t take you long to reach the flag.

Although not quite as talented in direct combat as some of your fellow campers are, you’re skilled in your own ways as well, moving silently through the underbrush and disabling any traps that you’ve found - products of the Hephaestus cabin, no doubt. After narrowly avoiding springing a Greek fire trap, you manage to make your way to the location of the flag completely undetected.

Sidling up behind a tree, you glance around the trunk to observe the battle ground. And just as you do-

Thunk!

You barely dodge out of the way in time, a blur of gold embedding itself in the wood of the tree you’re taking cover behind. So Zenitsu was right - he really is back from his mission, and although the two of you are on opposing sides for this Capture The Flag match, you’re happy to know that he’s back safe and sound, uninjured enough to participate in this game.

“Is that you, darling?” He calls out, and you have to hold back your smile at the pet name. You haven’t seen him in a week, and hearing his voice after so long makes you want to just rush out to give him a hug. “I know it’s you, love.”

“It’s been a week since you’ve seen me last, and an arrow to the face is how you greet me?” You call out from behind the tree, slightly teasing. “I’m hurt, Kyo.”

“I knew you’d be able to dodge it.” Kyoujurou laughs. When you peer behind the tree again, you see your boyfriend standing there in his orange Camp Half Blood tee and jeans, leisurely nocking another arrow into his bow. “I won’t go easy on you if you attempt to steal the flag.”

“I’m not here for the flag,” you answer, and it’s only a half lie when you continue. “I’m here because I missed you.”

If you were even a little less observant, you would have missed the way Kyoujurou’s hands falter ever so slightly in the midst of nocking his arrow, before he covers it up with one of his usual booming laugh. “You’re not going to distract me like that!” He declares, and you stifle a quiet laugh of your own, your heart beating a little faster in your chest. “But,” his voice softens, “I missed you too, when I was away. One week felt like forever to me.”

Warmth touches your cheeks, but before you can smile too much, you smack your cheek lightly. Get it together, you scold yourself, you’re supposed to be distracting him, not the other way around!

With that, you take a deep breath and rise to your feet. You could never hope to beat Kyoujurou face on in combat, but you don’t have to - all you need to do is to distract him so that Shinobu can do... whatever she has planned.

You step out from behind the tree, and immediately Kyoujurou’s golden eyes lock onto you. You take the time to take in his handsome features, the warmth in his eyes, the fresh band-aid on his left cheek, did he get injured while on his mission? 

“Changing strategy, love?” Kyoujurou calls out, looking amused. He tightens his grip on the bow when you take a single step forward. “Ah, ah, stay right there, or I’ll shoot.”

A frisson of excitement runs through you at the words, and you halt your steps, looking up at Kyoujurou with a smile. At this range, Kyoujurou has no chance of missing - you’ve seen him strike targets from yards away. “You won’t shoot me,” you hum, and with that, you take another step forward. True to Shinobu’s words, he lifts the bow, but makes no move to draw. 

“I missed you very much, Kyoujurou. I did read all the poems you left for me, but it doesn’t feel as nice when it’s not your voice reading them to me.” You lower your voice to a soft, longing tone. It’s not hard, considering just how badly you’ve yearned to see him over the past week. “It just made me miss you even more.”

You see a tinge of pink touch Kyoujurou’s cheeks. “I’ll read them for you tonight, if you want.” Taking another step forward, you gesture at his cheek. “Did you get hurt on your mission?”

“No, I got it while shaving today morning. I was distracted because I was too excited about coming back.” Kyoujurou lets out a sheepish laugh. Out of the corner of your eye, you see some bushes rustle behind Kyoujurou. 

“Well, you’re home now.” You’re almost within Kyoujurou’s reach now. If he decides to tackle you to the ground, you’d be out of the game even before you can so much as say ‘Zeus’. “With me.”

“Now!”

All of a sudden, a weighted net falls out of nowhere onto the both of you, and you’re sent falling by its weight. Before you can hit the ground, however, Kyoujurou wraps you securely in his arms, taking the brunt of the impact as you end up on his chest.

“Kyo!”

“Very well done, [last]!” Shinobu’s voice chirps from behind you, and you turn around to see Shinobu striding up to the both of you, the Mist melting off her. From beneath you, Kyoujurou laughs loudly, his chest shaking from amusement.

“This was your doing, wasn’t it, Kochou?” Kyoujurou shakes his head, a smile still on his lips. To the side, another figure slips out of the darkness, fingers wrapping around the flag Kyoujurou had been guarding before his entire body leaves the shadows.

“You just had to use [last] as a part of your plan.” Obanai says accusingly, jabbing his finger at Shinobu. The daughter of Hecate only shrugs innocently. “I had to watch all of that flirting, I don't think my eyes will ever recover. I'll need to wash them out with bleach,” he shudders in disgust. “I’m never going along with your plan again.”

“Now, now, there's no need to be such a drama queen." Shinobu tilts her head to the side, her smile still perfectly in place. "We won, so there’s no harm, is there? I’ll be sure to do the same for you when Kanroji returns from her exchange with Camp Jupiter.”

“You’ll do no such thing, you-”

With a shake of the head, you turn back to Kyoujurou, who’s still fighting to keep down his laughter. Gently, you let the pads of your fingers trace his face, his cheekbones, his defined jawline, before you tap at his lips, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a smile as he looks up at you.

“Welcome back, Kyo.” You whisper, and lean down to kiss him.