#I’m sure I’m forgetting a tag and won’t be able to add

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Five — Azriel x Reader

Note: I feel like this part isn’t that great but as you may have seen, I had a family emergency and I got kind of distracted whilst trying to finish it. It was going to be even longer with even more drama, but I wanted to get an update out today and I wouldn’t have finished it in time, so I’ve cut it short (on a cliffhanger, of course), and the next part will be out quicker as it’s already mostly written. You can look forward to more drama 😏 I hope you enjoy this part all the same! Also, I try to tag everyone who asks, but it won’t let me tag some of you, so please check your settings to make sure your blog is able to be tagged/searched for!

Summary: Reader is trying to carry on as normal, but a trip to a rival camp has tensions rising once more, and jealous Azriel makes a return. Trouble seems to follow our poor girl everywhere…

Word Count: 6.1k.

Warnings: A bit of violence.

This is all wrong.

The beautiful female hovers over Azriel, her lips slanting over his. Her mouth is commanding, entirely in control.

She smiles against him like she knows it.

She grabs Azriel’s hands, plants them on her waist. And she whispers in a voice that is so seductive, it almost seems impossible, “Touch me.”

So Az touches her. And it’s all wrong.

He can’t exactly place why it’s wrong. Just that there’s a panic unfurling inside of him that this is all happening too fast—

No, not too fast. It’s not that.

It’s who hovers over him that’s the problem. The realisation is nearly suffocating. Something has changed.

He doesn’t…doesn’t think he wants to be doing this here, right now, with Kaeda. It feels…off. He’s not comfortable, not at ease, like he’s always been with—

The door bursts open, and it’s a relief when Kaeda tears her mouth away from his.

The relief instantaneously disappears as he turns his head, drinks in who stands at the threshold. His stomach lurches.

Y/N looks as if she’s about to keel over on the spot. She trembles so violently that she can’t seem to keep her body still. Her tunic and breeches and shoes are sodden, as though she traipsed all the way here, through the snow, with nothing shielding her from the cold. Her hair sticks to her face, and there’s blood — blood streaking down her chin.

Azriel goes cold. Something has happened.

But Y/N seems oblivious to the blood as she stares, wide-and-watery-eyed, between Azriel and Kaeda.

And Az thinks…fuck. Fuck, fuck, a thousand times, fuck.

His head is reeling, roaring.

And then Kaeda says, “The shop hand from the forge,” and Azriel doesn’t like her tone; like being a shop hand is something shameful. She adds, “What happened to your face?”

Az is wondering the same fucking thing. It’s then that be remembers how to move, and he’s wrenching up and scooting out from beneath Kaeda, and his voice is quiet, soft, as he murmurs, “Y/N…”

He wants to go to her, fuss over her, but she’s gripping the door handle and shaking her head in a way that stops him from doing so.

“Sorry for interrupting.” She chokes out. In a flash, the door is yanked shut, and she’s gone.

All Azriel can think is no. Something prickles at his skin. He forgets there’s someone else in the room with him.

“Do you know her?” Kaeda’s voice jolts him.

“She’s my—friend.” The word sounds strange in his voice, tastes funny on his tongue. It tastes…sour.

“You think she got into a fight, or something?”

“No, that’s not—” He stops himself from revealing too much. Presses his back into the pillows. “No. I’m not sure what happened, but…no.”

Kaeda seems to think on that for a mere second or two. And then she shrugs. “How strange.”

Before Azriel can reply, she’s climbing into his lap, legs either side of his. She grabs his hands, planting them on her hips. Her soft hair tickles his cheek as she leans down, and she smells pleasant. Sweet and powdery.

“Where were we?” She murmurs, and then she kisses him again.

There is no excitement in this. There should be something thrilling about the way her lips attack his hungrily, and the way she’s stroking her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, and the way she rocks on top of him. Az may lack experience, but he doesn’t lack knowledge, basic common sense.

His cock should be hardening in his breeches by now. But all he feels is…panic.

He’s too concerned about Y/N to focus.

He rips his mouth away, panting, “I can’t.”

Kaeda blinks down at him. “What?”

“I’m sorry, I just — I need to find Y/N. I need to check she’s alright.”

The female studies him, reading his face.

And then her expression softens. She nods. “Of course, Azriel. I’m sorry. You should go find her.”

Kaeda is nice — he’s thought so since the moment he met her, when she took a late night trip to one of the training rings a good few months ago, and Az had had the same idea. She’s one of those personable people who can get along with anyone — who could coax conversation out of a lump of snow. People light up around her, and they laugh, and she makes everyone she talks to feel special.

So of course she has no problem with Az skipping out on her. It thaws his heart a little. The panic is still there, though.

“I’m sorry.” He stands from the bed, a twinge of guilt biting at him for just…leaving her here. “I’ll check on her and make sure she’s okay. I’ll come back after.”

Kaeda smiles at him brilliantly. “Go on. She needs you.”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement than that. Later on, he might regret how quickly he darts from the room, as if it’s on fire. But right now, all he thinks of is Y/N.

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You end up at the cottage. You’re not sure why. Nor how — you have no recollection of the walk there.

The pain of an aching heart blocks out the cold, at least.

You need…you don’t know what you need.

It feels as though you’re standing still as the world moves too fast around you.

You numbly walk through the front door, forgetting to kick the snow from your shoes. And you stop at the sight of Cassian in the kitchen, stood alone at the counter, his back to you. Your mind can’t register that he’s here, when you expected him to be at the centre of the Solstice festivities, drinking the night away and finding someone to fall into bed with by the end of it.

He turns, unperturbed by your abrupt arrival. “Sandwich break.” He chirps, and then his eyes land on you. The sandwich slips from his hands. “What the fuck?”

You open and close your mouth, not even sure what might come out. There’s a disconnect somewhere. Nothing’s working right.

You just hope it isn’t Azriel’s name that slips past your lips. You don’t want to have to explain your complicated feelings where he’s concerned.

“My father.” You eventually rasp. “He…”

You don’t need to finish the sentence. Cassian knows. He always knows.

He comes striding over to you and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. And you feel a little deceitful that the tears that immediately begin to fall have nothing to do with what went down with your father. But what’s one more negative emotion to add to the growing pile? You sink into the embrace, accept it greedily. Cassian’s hugs will one day feature in legendary tales, you’re sure.

“I told Az I had a bad feeling about tonight.” He says, pulling back to study you. A rare fury flames his gaze, turning him instantly into the feared opponent that so many other males simply refuse to fight. He clenches his jaw, features harsh for once. “Gods, I just want to go straight to your father’s house and—”

“No.” You quickly cut him off. “Not tonight. Please. I can’t take any more tonight.”

Cass can be stubborn and driven by emotion and he’s damn well attracted to fights like a moth to a flame. But he’s also a fiercely loyal friend who will listen to what you need and act accordingly.

Which is why he gently takes your face in his huge, warm hands, inspects your split lip, and says, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You could kiss him for that, alone.

Maybe you should.

No, you’re not thinking straight.

You don’t want to think at all, as you allow yourself to be seated on the couch, and Cass begins rummaging for whatever scant medical supplies Rhysand’s mother keeps in the cottage. Years under your father’s thumb means that you’ve got the art of emptying your mind to an almost frightening level of perfection. Perhaps an unhealthy coping mechanism, but a necessary one. You force your head to go quiet, to empty.

But then Cassian is perching himself in front of you, a gentle smile on his face.

“I’m totally making this up as I go along.” He admits. “I’ll make it as painless as I can.”

A bizarre thought strikes you that you actually want this to hurt.

You’re not sure what to make of that one.

Luckily for you, you can’t exactly provide much conversation with Cass cleaning the wound on your lip. It’s nice not to have to think beyond the vague hums you give in response to his occasional comments.

But before long, he’s rubbing a salve into the cut — and apologising as you hiss at the sting — and then he tells you, “All done. The bleeding has stopped.”

Your attempt at a smile is more of a grimace. “Thank you.”

The silence in the room is odd. Pressing. Even in the most testing of times, Cassian is known for trying to inject some humour into the situation — he’s a master at easing tension. But he stares at you in a way that strips you bare.

And then he asks, “What happened tonight?”

You frown at the question, not entirely sure how to answer. You know he’s asking in regard to the wound, wanting to know exactly how you got it, but your thoughts are aimed — uncontrollably — in a singular direction, and if you open your mouth, you’re not at all sure that Azriel’s name won’t just roll off your tongue.

“Y/N?” Cassian presses.

“I…” You swallow. It’s a good start. “I think I might be homeless.”

Not exactly an answer. But it seems that’s enough for Cass.

He shifts his position so that he’s able to fold you into his side. He guides your head to his chest, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“No, you’re not. You have this place.” He murmurs. “You’ll always have this place. Or you could move into my room at the dormitories, if you’d like. I’ll even clean it for you.”

That drags a weak, rasping laugh from the depths of your aching chest. “You really are a catch, Cass.”

“Oh, I know. But I’ll clean my room for no other female but you.”

Would that change, you wonder, if he met Kaeda, saw how beautiful she was? He may not have had the pleasure of an introduction yet, but you’re sure that Azriel must have shared at least some information with him and Rhys. They probably know more than you do.

Your curiosity piques, and before you can stop yourself, you’re speaking. “Cass?”

“Yes, sweetpea?”

You should totally backtrack, blurt out something pointless and irrelevant—

“What do you know of Kaeda?”

Or maybe not.

There’s a short pause as Cass seems to mull the question over, his fingers beginning to absentmindedly rake through your hair.

“Not much.” He eventually admits. “Her family aren’t from this camp. Her father is Lord of Camp Fenlaros. I think they’re a wealthy family, highly respected. I don’t know any more than that.”

Which explains why you’d never seen her until the day she’d walked into the forge. You’d certainly remember meeting her before. The Fenlaros Camp sits at the other side of Illyria — the furthest one from Windhaven.

“You don’t need to worry, though.” Cass then says, and you stiffen, wondering if your silence has somehow exposed you. “Az has a good head on his shoulders. He knows what he’s doing.”

Yes, you want to say, because I fucking taught him.

But before you can muster a reasonable response, the door is bursting open.

Azriel strides in, damp hair sticking to cold-bitten cheeks and his chest heaving. His eyes drink in yours and Cassian’s current position, before zeroing in on your face.

“I’ve been looking for you.” He pants.

You stare back at him, and you hate that you feel…angry. You have no right to feel that way. What has Az done, besides what he always intended to do? Exploring your affections was only ever supposed to be a practice run. If he feels ready for the real thing, you should be excited for him.

But quite simply, you’re not.

“Why?” The word comes out too brusque, too harsh. You correct yourself, clearing your throat. “I mean—what for?”

A pause. “I was worried.”

“I got her all cleaned up.” Cass jumps to his feet, gathering the healing supplies in his hands. “It’s not as bad as it looks, thankfully.”

Azriel’s eyes don’t leave your face. “Your father?”

You lower your eyes to your hands, your fingernails of sudden interest to you. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

And you don’t. But as the words leave your mouth, you know you’re not referring to your father’s behaviour. And you think that somehow, Az knows, too.

He stares at you in silence, still breathing a little heavily. And as that silence becomes thick, almost uncomfortable, Cass catches on to it.

He pauses his movements in the kitchen, staring between you and Azriel. It becomes suddenly clear to him that there’s an elephant in the room, and both of you are refusing to glance at it.

You really, really don’t want him to leave you alone with Az right now. You need time to gather your thoughts and feelings and know what you’re not going to say—

“…Anyway…” He clears his throat loudly. “I’m going to head back to the dormitories while the night is still young.” He swivels towards you. “Do you need anything else?”

“I’ve got her.” Az answers before you can. “We’ll be fine here. Go have fun, Cass.”

And, well, Cassian doesn’t need telling twice. So typically of him, he finally scoops his dropped sandwich off the kitchen floor, blows on it, and eats half of it in one bite.

“Happy Solstice, fuckers.” He says around a mouthful of bread. “Come back to the party when you’re finished here.”

You have no plans of doing that. All you want is to climb into bed and cry. But you know there’s no getting out of whatever is about to follow.

“Thanks, Cass.” You murmur quietly, forcing a weak smile.

“Anything for you, sweetpea.”

With the remainder of his sandwich still in hand, his tall frame ducks out of the cottage. The closing of the door is a death knell.

Az stares at you. And then he’s rounding the couch, stopping just inches away.

For the first time in nine years, you’re not sure you can face him. There’s an oily feeling of…of humiliation, that coats you, and it may just worsen if you make eye contact.

“Are you alright?” He breaks the silence, his voice solemn, grave.

You nod. Twist your hands around each other just to give them something to do.  “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Thanks.”

“I don’t mean it like that. But your lip—”

“Cassian saw to it, Az.” Finally, you force yourself to make eye contact. And for his sake — or yours — or whatever — you push your mouth into a watery smile. It hurts your lip and it hurts your heart. “It’s really not that bad.”

There’s a momentary pause. Perhaps he’s not expecting you to be so calm in the wake of such an awful day. Little does he know, it’s all a front. Self-preservation.

You almost — almost — flinch, when he steps closer and perches himself on the coffee table in front of you.

“I should have been there.” He presses his lips into a thin line as he studies the wound up close. “I’m sorry.”

You don’t want to talk about this. You can’t talk about this. You may just die if you do. You just…need the night to end. To go away.

And just as Azriel reaches out to brush a finger over your hurt lip, you’ve decided you’ve had quite enough.

You jump up way too quickly for it to be casual, clearing your throat. “Where is Kaeda?”

“…She’s still at the dorms…”

“You shouldn’t have skipped out on her like that, Azriel. It’s rude.”

“I explained to her that you needed me. She understood—”

You whirl around to face him. You dread to think what he might have told her. “Go back to her, Az.”

Does he know you’re begging him, not telling him? You’re not sure.

He studies you like…like he doesn’t understand your demeanour. And then he says, “I will when I’m done here.”

A brusque laugh leaves you. “There’s nothing to be done here. Cassian already helped.”

You see the words hit him. Part of you feels like a wretch for throwing it in his face. He’s done nothing wrong. He owes you nothing.

This is on you for letting your feelings get out of hand. Your eyes shutter, and you draw in a slow, steeling breath.

“I’m very tired, and I just want to go to bed.” You explain quietly. “And I appreciate that you interrupted your night to come and check on me, I do, but there’s nothing that can be done for me. I just…need to sleep.”

Az stares at you again. Swallows. “Then I’ll stay until you fall asleep—”

“Az. Don’t keep Kaeda waiting.”

You can see how torn he is. You almost feel bad. He wants to do right by everyone.

But he can’t do right by you. Not tonight. It’s too late for that.

And maybe that realisation dawns on him, because finally, he pushes to his feet.

“You know where to find me if you need anything.”

You won’t. But you nod, all the same. “Yes.”

“Lock the door.”

“I will.”

He strides to the door. Pauses with his fingers on the handle, like he wants to say something else.

But then he leaves.

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The cold hurts so good. Every inhale burns your lungs. Your eyes water against the brisk air.

Pushing yourself hard like this, working against the elements, is precisely what you need. You’ve been up here every morning for the past week, putting your body through its paces before the sky has even lightened.

You’ve got avoiding Azriel as much as possible down to an art form, and when you’ve no choice but to face him, your act of breezing nonchalance, or normality, is so convincing that you almost fool yourself.

Almost.

It’s a routine, if not a strange one.

You pant heavily through the exertion, gazing up through the towering trees as you take a moment to catch your breath. It seems that the harder you push yourself, the more your muscles burn, the less your heart aches. The quiet and solitude has been a welcome companion in the days since—

Snow crunches under boots. You stiffen at the approaching footsteps.

If the males training below catch you doing your exercises up here again, they may do more than just chew you out.

But through the trees, Azriel’s unmistakable form emerges in a halo of early morning light. The nature around you seems to pause and bask in his presence, and you can’t blame it one bit.

Gods, he’s beautiful. Painfully so. Gut-wrenchingly so—

It’s for that reason that you snap your front into place; the one you’ve spent the past week perfecting. You will simply act as you always have — as you always did before that first night you offered Azriel your help — and maybe, hopefully, you’ll even start to believe it.

Maybe it will stop hurting.

“Thought I’d find you up here.” There’s an edge to his voice that makes you think he’s waiting to follow your lead. He smiles tentatively.

You smile widely and hope it’s convincing. “I’d much prefer having smoother terrain to work on, but beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose.”

The rigidity of his shoulders ease. “How many times have you tripped over these rocks?”

“Oh, seven hundred, or so.”

He breathes a laugh, a little white cloud pluming in front of his face, and you do the same.

And it’s bad — it’s really bad — but your thoughts are immediately jumping to Kaeda and assuming her natural grace would hold its brilliance on smooth or rough terrain. There’d probably be no tripping, no falling.

You banish those images quickly.

Sometimes, you’re not sure whether you want to be her, or be in bed with her.

Azriel clears his throat, his face sobering. “Listen, I wanted to talk.”

Oh, gods.

Surely he’s not going to just…confront things, right here, right now, like a reasonable person. You’re not even slightly prepared for that. You claw at your mind in panic, searching for some way out of this besides tucking and rolling down the hill away from him—

“I have an invitation.” He says, and you pause. “Well — Kaeda does.”

Bizarre, that the first thought that hits you is a bleating, please don’t ask me to have a threesome.

You drag your mind straight back out of the gutter and will your face into neutrality. “Oh?”

“…Yeah…” Az rubs the back of his neck. “I know the two of you haven’t been properly introduced, but she’s throwing a party back in her home camp — Fenlaros — and she invited me and said I should bring some friends.”

For a moment or two, you simply don’t know what to say. Going into a rival camp is usually best avoided, given that Illyrian males will look for any excuse for a fight. You don’t know much, admittedly, about the Fenlaros Camp, but Illyrians are Illyrians, and that’s just a fact.

But it makes you question, for the first time, a thought that hadn’t so far occurred to you — why has Kaeda been hanging around Windhaven? You don’t even know the story of when she came here, or for what reason.

And that’s on you, you suppose, for wanting to know as little as possible.

“She doesn’t really know anyone here in Windhaven, besides me.” Az continues. “So she told me to bring you, Rhys and Cass along. I think she’s eager to get to know you.”

You’re silent as a thousand thoughts filter through your mind, one by one. So many things you suddenly want to ask, and yet what comes out is merely, “Fenlaros?”

Az nods. He seems to be studying your reaction closely.

“Is that a good idea? We’re not supposed to breach rival camps without express permission.”

“We have permission. Kaeda’s father is Lord of Fenlaros, and the party will be held at her dwellings. She tells me they’re a tad more civilised there than they are here.”

Hard to believe, of Illyrians. But who are you to talk? You’ve never ventured to another camp like she so boldly has.

You can’t exactly explain your hesitation, besides the obvious — subjecting yourself to being in the company of both Azriel and Kaeda seems unnecessarily cruel. But something else about it also just feels…odd. Just strolling into another camp as though that’s a done thing.

To Kaeda, you suppose it is.

“Look, you don’t have to come.” Az says, reading the caution on your face. “Rhys and Cass are eager — it’s our last chance to enjoy ourselves before training gets intense again. But I wouldn’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with—”

“I’ll come.” You blurt. “Of course, I’ll come.”

Even Az looks a little surprised. He studies you, giving you a moment to retract. And then he smiles. “Alright. Great.”

Maybe going to a party with your friends is exactly what you need — doing something normal, something you would have done without thought before you created this mess for yourself.

Perhaps the key to getting past this is to just…pretend it doesn’t hurt, until it no longer does.

And perhaps getting to know Kaeda, making a friend of her, will even help.

“Listen, I need to get back.” Az tells you, glancing over his shoulder. “We’ll discuss the details later.”

Before you can reply, he’s reaching out and pulling you into a tight hug. His scent envelopes you, soothes and pains you in equal measure. You close your eyes against his chest and find yourself hoping — really hoping — that this ache will go away soon. Azriel’s embraces have always been a place of solace. You don’t want that to have changed.

Just as quickly, he pulls away, dropping a kiss onto your forehead. “I’m really glad you’re coming, Y/N.” He says. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

You’re vaguely aware of the non-committal response you give him. Your mind is suddenly screaming at you.

And as he turns and walks away, you can’t help wondering what the fuck you’ve just got yourself into.

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It’s high up in the skies, two nights later, that the true regret begins to seep in.

Not just because the idea of this party makes anxiety coil tightly in your gut, like something in the air whispers to you that tonight will be a total shit show.

It’s the humiliation that hits you on the way there. An itchy kind of humiliation that you haven’t allowed yourself to feel for a very, very long time.

Not far in front of you, Cassian flies freely, the wind stirring his hair. He always wears the same expression while flying, one that’s a combination of elation, freedom and pride.

A small distance ahead of him, Azriel, too, is the picture of soaring grace. And at his side, Kaeda is the same. Her brilliant hair is like a streak of crimson blood that’s been smeared on the night landscape.

And you — you have to be carried by Rhysand. Like a youngling.

You stopped pitying yourself a long time ago for what your father did to you, the way he stole your ability to fly before you ever really had the chance. It was one of those things you had to come to terms with, because you’d never be able to change it.

That old feeling is returning with a vengeance, now, eating you up from the inside. Seeing Az be able to fly alongside a female, something you’d never be able to do—

“I’ve never been to the Fenlaros Camp.” Rhys speaks into your ear, ripping you out of your thoughts. From the way his fingers rub soothing circles into your hip, you know he didn’t miss your bleak expression.

You fix your gaze on the sprawling landscape below. Noises are drifting up to you, becoming louder. You must be close.

“Az says there’s nothing to be worried about.” You answer quietly. “But do you really think all will be well? It doesn’t take much for the three of you to find trouble when there’s alcohol in your system. If you land yourself in deep shit, you’ll be punished.”

His violet eyes sparkle with mischief. “I’m the High Lord’s son — their future High Lord. Everyone is too scared shitless to punish me.”

That’s not entirely true, and he knows it. You shoot him an unamused glance. “Rhys—”

“Hey.” He cuts you off, squeezing your waist. “Look.”

Your eyes fall below, and you pause — blink.

War camp is not the correct term to describe what you’re descending towards.

Windhaven is a war camp. Windhaven is brutal, and cruel, and — quite frankly — unpleasant. You can spend a lifetime there and never feel at home amongst the crumbling, sparse buildings and watchful eyes.

Fenlaros is a small town.

You glimpse barracks and training rings, an armoury and a common hall — all things that Windhaven has. But Windhaven doesn’t have the pristine, secure buildings, looking as new as if they were built yesterday. Warm glows emanate from the inside out, and it feels almost ludicrous to consider that this is a place built to train for war. It just looks like…like a place someone could call home.

You’re close enough to pick up the sounds of music and laughter — all sounds of a place that’s lively despite the late hour. It’s Kaeda’s lead that your three friends follow, and it doesn’t surprise you one bit when she begins a smooth incline to what looked, from above, to be the largest, grandest building in the place.

Suitable dwellings for a Lord and his family, indeed.

Rhys is the last to touch the ground outside of the building. As he sets you down, Cassian lets out an approving whistle.

“This certainly beats the dormitories.” He says, and Kaeda grins.

“Welcome to Fenlaros.” Is all she answers.

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Nothing is ever as bad when the alcohol begins to flow. You even start to vaguely feel like…like you might actually enjoy yourself. The house is so big, filled to the brim with so many people, that you’ve only seen Azriel and Kaeda a couple of times in passing.

This sets off a tiny little battle in your innermost thoughts. Part of you wants to know what they’re up to. The other part of you really fucking doesn’t.

But so far, the people of the Fenlaros Camp are pleasant enough that you’re plied consistently with conversation, too occupied to wonder what might or might not be happening elsewhere in the building. You may just survive this party yet.

You’re just taking a moment to grab yourself another drink when you feel a touch on your shoulder. You turn, and you almost start at the sight of Kaeda smiling at you.

Gods, she really is beautiful.

“I feel like I haven’t had a chance to speak with you properly.” She says, and she’s right. There were very brief official introductions when she arrived to guide you all to Fenlaros, but so far, there’s been no one-on-one.

A fact of which you don’t know whether you’re relieved or disappointed.

“This place is…not like Windhaven.” You breathe a laugh. “Thank you — again — for the invite.”

“Of course. Azriel and I have been getting to know each other for a few months now. That’s all it is so far, and I don’t know where it might go, but I’d like to know his friends as well.”

Enough alcohol has settled into your system that the mention of Az’s name only gives a small twinge. You grin back at Kaeda. “It’s a relief to have another female around.”

“Gods, I’ll bet.” Her laugh is so, so brilliant. Like trickling water or birdsong or something. “Has it really been just the four of you all this time?”

“Pretty much. Since we were nine. A few odd love interests have come and gone, but nothing ever lasted.”

“Well.” She smiles. “Perhaps my arrival in Windhaven was a blessing in disguise.”

“I meant to ask, actually, what brought you there in the first place—”

“Don’t look now, but I think you may have bagged yourself an admirer.”

You pause at the interruption, your thoughts slow to catch up. And then you’re following Kaeda’s gaze to a group of boisterous males. One of whom is eyeing you with an intense hunger. As your eyes meet, one side of his mouth tips up into a smirk.

“That’s Thedis.” Kaeda tells you. “I’ve known him since we were younglings. He’s a good male.”

The way he’s drinking you in makes you not really care, in that moment, whether he’s a good male or a fucking terrible one.

“Listen, I’m going to go find Az.” Kaeda tells you, and her eyes glitter. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You give each other your names, and it’s all heavy petting from there.

Thedis doesn’t provide much in the way of conversation, but then that doesn’t matter when the music is loud, and the packed room is dancing, and he’s grinding against you.

He spins you in his arms, hands palming at your hips. You lean into the touch, knowing that his eyes are all over every one of your movements. He’s desperate for you. You have him eating out of the palm of your hand.

But it’s a different pair of hazel eyes that find yours from not far away. A more peculiar pair that you know so well.

Azriel dances nearby, Kaeda moving against him in a similar manner. But he stares at you. Intensely stares at you. The way his eyes rove over your outfit makes you feel like you’re actually wearing something worth marvelling over, and you didn’t just have to make do with what clothing you keep at Rhysand’s mother’s cottage.

The velvet top is pretty, though. Cinched at the waist and accentuating the curves of your breasts. You’re not certain if Thedis has stared at your face or your cleavage more.

But does it really matter, when you’re both aiming for the same, mindless goal, only desiring one thing from each other?

He surely doesn’t seem to think so as his hands explore your body. Azriel watches the entire thing with an unreadable expression.

You rip your gaze away, force it elsewhere. The room is so full that the air is stuffy, and your head spins a little. Against the far wall, a male has his tongue down Rhysand’s throat. They’re touching each other so desperately that it wouldn’t surprise you if they whipped their clothes off and began fucking there and then. The male would wear it as a badge of honour that he’d been with the future High Lord. Amongst the dancing bodies, Cassian is getting a similar treatment from a pretty, blonde female.

One song morphs into the next, and this one is faster, more frenetic. It spurs the couples around you on, and a sensual charge fills the space as if the damn lute players are strumming an aphrodisiac straight into the room.

Thedis slides his hands down to your ass, and he squeezes, lowering his head to brush his lips against yours.

“Let’s find somewhere more private.” He breathes onto your mouth. And he adds, without filter, “I want to fuck you.”

You tilt your head up, aiming to make contact with his lips.

The kiss never lands.

Everything happens too fast to register. But suddenly, Thedis is on the floor, and Azriel is on top of him, and the shadowsinger’s fist goes flying into his face.

Complete chaos erupts from there. Some people are darting out of the way, while others form a circle around the two males on the ground. The music stops, replaced by loud jeering and whoops of excitement. Azriel delivers a second punch, and Thedis returns it with one of his own, and then they’re rolling on the floor and you don’t know what to do.

“Azriel, what the fuck?” There’s no way he hears you above all the noise. You look around for Rhys, Cass, Kaeda, fucking anyone, but they all must be lost in the fray, the pushing and shoving.

You swear loudly, and you’re jostled this way and that as you push through people and try to reach the fight. You’re shoved forward just in time to see Azriel’s shadows snake around Thedis’s throat and squeeze—

“Azriel!” You snap. You try to grab the back of his shirt, but someone is grabbing the back of yours, trying to stop you from stopping him. You round on the Fenlaros male, shoving him away from you. “Do not touch me.”

And fuck, that’s the worst thing you could have done.

It doesn’t take much for Illyrians to start a fight. Male, female, it doesn’t matter — they’re a violent people, and as soon as you hit them with a punch or a shove, they’re accepting it as a provocation.

Which would be bad enough in Windhaven, where you’ve seen things get out of hand time and time again.

But you’re not in Windhaven. These aren’t your people. You’re in Fenlaros. And there’s now two members of Windhaven going up against two members of Fenlaros.

They take it as an affront from a rival camp.

And all hell breaks loose.

azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden @jjlevin @smitty-werbenjagermenjenson @spikertrash @kindagoldylocks @barbiezambie @kht1998 @soupghoul @nyctophiliawitch @gracie1234567891011 @gaymistakeboi @luvmxo @rinalouu @microwaveallthedemons @starlightshowdown

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 13

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: I had this pistachio cake and it was so good. I didn't know what else to put here but yum.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You’re shaking, barely able to keep your legs from collapsing beneath you. Even with Bucky’s arm around you, you’re weak. His confidence makes you feel even smaller; reminds you of who and what you really are. You’re not this. You’re not arm candy. You’re not some gorgeous supermodel. You’re just you. 

As you get to the end of the hall, you face the elevator and wait. His large hand squeezes your hip and he draws you even closer. He surprises you with a peck on your head. A thrill flows through you. 

“I’m the luckiest guy in this casino, baby,” he purrs and urges you through the doors as they open. 

You gulp and lean back into his arm as you step on, the transparent walls peering down on the drop. You try not to look and put your hand over his. You cling to his fingers and close your eyes, dizzy from the descent. 

“Ah, I forgot, doll,” he holds you even snugger, “Don’t worry, I got you. You stay close to me, alright?” 

“Okay,” you wisp out as the motion of the elevator adds to your displacement. 

When at last you reach the bottom, you nearly wriggle right out of his hold. He keeps you firmly against him and struts off with you at his side. He releases you only to hook his arm through yours. You cling to him if only to keep from tripping in the heels. 

You look down at yourself, recalling your attire as you pass a mirrored wall. You barely recognise the woman and yet it’s you. The make-up isn’t too heavy, your hair is perfectly done, and despite your frightened expression, you look good. Better than ever. Well, anything is an improvement over your typical aesthetic. 

You pass through the hotel lobby into the main room of the casino. The ringing of machines and flashing lights stun you. He stops with you and raises his chin proudly. To him, it’s just another night. For you, it’s a night you won’t ever forget; one you’ll never know again. 

“All of this is ours, doll,” he says. You wince at that word; ‘ours’. It’s a fantasy, he knows it. It must be what he tells all his women. 

You can only let a jitter shake you. He continues on and you follow. The chaos of the casino has you senseless. You drift through like his shadow as he pulls you along.  

Yet, you notice that you are not unseen. You feel the eyes all around you, you see them. Necks crane, bodies twists, and lips whisper. You’re overly aware that they’re watching you. No, they’re watching him. 

You feel ice form a shell over you. You numb yourself to it all as best you can. If you let yourself feel the storm brewing inside you, it will surely blow you over.  

Bucky stops you and winks at you. He reaches to rub your hand on his forearm and gives a squeeze, “relax. I got you. You trust me, don’t you?” 

You exhale and nod, “yes.” 

“Alright, then, doll,” he pulls his arm back and puts his hand on the small of your back, “let’s go.” 

He walks you along, a casual pace. The looks continue. People acknowledge him as he passes, the bartender calls him sir and several other staff. He approaches a table and you steel yourself nervously. Men in suits chuckle loudly as dice are thrown against the trim. 

“Stark,” Barnes stops beside a man with grey patches at his temple, “you didn’t bring your own dice again, did you?” 

“They searched me on the way in. What’s that about?” The man snickers, “but I see you get to bring your own toys.” 

The man makes a show of looking around Bucky, leering at you. Bucky pushes him straight by the chest, “never had any problem finding something to play with.” 

“Ah, don’t be so sensitive. Your girls are always so much fun,” the man, Stark, taunts. 

“Keep your hands to yourself, that goes for the staff too,” Bucky warns. 

“Wow, have you demoted yourself to bouncer now?” 

“These are my people, Tony,” he claps the man’s shoulder, “consider it a friendly reminder. I know you tend to forget.” 

The man scoffs and rolls his eyes. He takes the dice as they’re held out to him and tosses them onto the felt. Bucky tickles your lower back with his finger and you squirm, elbowing an unexpected figure behind you. You let out a squeak and turn as Bucky does the same. 

“Hey,” a skinny man, not much taller than yourself greets, “been looking for you.” 

“Steve,” Bucky says, “what’re you doing here?” 

“Ah, you know,” he scratches his floppy golden hair, “you haven’t picked up your phone so--” 

“Shoot, what’s the date?” 

“Buck, it’s tomorrow,” the blond, Steve, grins, “I’m just making sure you show up. Ma would be real disappointed.” 

“I wouldn’t miss Sarah Rogers’ birthday for anything,” Bucky avows, the genuine tone in his voice wrenching at your chest. “You gonna stay and enjoy the tables? You still got your complimentary chips waiting on you.” 

“Told ya, I don’t like to gamble,” Steve chuckles, “but thanks.” 

“I’m sorry, buddy. I should’ve picked up. I’ve been so busy...” Bucky pauses as Steve smiles at you sheepishly as if he’s only just noticed you.  

“I get it,” Steve’s lashes flick, “she’s... miss, you’re real pretty.” 

He sounds as nervous as you feel. His cheeks tinge pink and he tucks his thumbs into his pockets. His brown slacks definitely don’t fit into the sparkling casino. Bucky laughs too. 

“Chill, have a drink at the bar before you go.” 

“Thanks, pal,” Steve smooths back his hair, “but I should probably head out--” 

“She don’t bite, Rogers,” Bucky chides, “well, I’ll tell her to keep her teeth to herself,” he rubs your back and slips his fingers around your side, pulling you close once more. “Have a drink for me, alright?” 

“Alright,” the smaller man exhales, “don’t forget.” 

“I won’t,” Bucky promises. 

As the blond strides away, slightly off kilter as he looks around, seeming lost as he tries to see around the people around, Bucky draws you away from the dice table. The small man reminds you a lot of yourself in some ways. He’s braver than you, he came all alone. 

“That... who?” You wonder. 

“My best friend. Since we were kids,” he answers, “good guy, just a bit... uppity. His ma’s got her birthday tomorrow. You should come.” 

“Oh, uh, that’s... I don’t know--” 

“She’ll be happy to meet ya. She’s been telling me to settle down for years,” he scoffs. “Her son too and he does try...” 

“Well, this isn’t.... it’s early--” you stammer. 

“You still don’t believe me,” he challenges you as he angles you to face him. He brings his hands to your arms, stroking the bare skin with his roughened fingertips, “you don’t think I’m gonna keep ya, doll?” 

“No, I didn’t-- I don’t know. It’s all so new and—I'm sorry, Bucky, I want to—I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know--” 

“Shhh, doll, I’m not mad. I got work to do. That’s fine,” he trails his fingers up the strap of your dress and tickles your throat, “I’ll keep it up, don’t you worry. Let’s get ya a drink.” 

He walks you to the bar, laying his hand on the top as the bartender crosses to him attentively. Bucky pauses before he orders and looks at you, “ladies first. What do you want, doll?” 

You look between Bucky and the bartender. You have no idea. You weren’t planning on drinking, you’re already a mess as it is but you don’t want to be rude. 

“You like cranberry, doll? How about a cosmopolitan?” Bucky suggests. 

You nod and face the bar again, “sure, uh, please, a cos...” 

“Cosmopolitan, coming up,” the bar tender agrees, “usual, sir?” 

“Single,” Bucky holds up a finger, “I wanna keep my wits about me.” 

The bartender sets to work and you fidget. You crane around to see the rest of the casino, a furor rising from the blackjack table. Bucky rubs your arm and draws your attention back to him. You give a nervous smile as you try not to think about those watching you in turn. 

“Hey, don’t even worry about it,” his voice is low and gravelly as he brings a finger up under your chin, “the only thing that matters is us, doll.” 

Before you can react, he leans in to kiss you. You’re caught entirely off guard, trapped in his snare as his tongue glides along your lips. He hums and pulls back, dropping his hand with a sigh. 

“I gotta get a hold on myself,” he laughs as he shows his palm, “you make it hard, doll. You really do.” 

You rock and smile bigger. Your cheeks are fiery and your temples are pounding. The bartender announces your cocktail and puts it up. Bucky takes it and hands it to you. You thank him as he turns to retrieve the short tumbler of flat whiskey. 

“Go on, have a taste, doll,” he encourages as he gives a gentle tap to the base of the stemmed glass. 

You look down at the coned glass of vibrant red liquor and juice, a twist of lemon against the brim. You raise it cautiously and give a sniff before you press your lips around the glass. Your eyes flick up as Bucky lets out a rumble. He fixates on your mouth as you sip, his teeth graze over his lower lip. 

Your cheeks pinch as you taste the mixed drink and you pull it away from your mouth. You dab your lips with your knuckles, terrified of smearing the gloss. You flutter your lashes at him and force another tight smile, “mm, it’s... sweet.” 

“Dangerous,” he smirks, “I don’t do cocktails. They go down to easy.” 

“Oh,” you give a guilty pout. “I don’t...” 

“It’s fine, it’s not that much,” he waves off your excuse, “really, doll, you could use it. It’ll help you relax.” 

“Right, er, thanks,” you slowly turn the stem between your fingers and look down at the glass. “I’m sorry I don’t...” 

“Hm,” he shifts closer as your voice drifts off, “sorry for what, doll?” 

He nudges you smoothly away from the bar, putting you back into step as he casually traverses the floor, his hand right on your back. He guides you subtly with the constant warmth between your hips. It is both comforting and disjointing. He’s there with you, propping you up, and yet you do not belong. 

“I don’t really fit, er, or... know what to do,” you murmur. 

He leans in to hear your small voice. He scoffs. 

“Let me tell you something, doll. You fit just nice on my arm. You don’t need to worry about anyone else but me, you got it? All these people in this room, they’re nothing. All these lights, all this noise, and I can only see you,” he purrs. 

You giggle nervously. He’s so flattering. He always knows just what to say.  

“Thanks, I...” you look away, embarrassed at your little confession. You’re supposed to be trying to blend in and yet you can’t help but put yourself on the sideline. He’s not the type. He is the main attraction. 

“You feel better, doll?” He asks as he rubs the dip of your back. “If it’s too much, we can go somewhere else.” 

“I’m... I’m good. I don’t wanna ruin the night,” you say, “really.” You raise the glass and sip again, “it’s really good, thank you, Bucky.” 

“Mph, I love it when you say my name,” he snarls, “come on.” 

He continues along, guiding you between tables and behind distracted bodies. The tables are packed with gamblers and figures pass from one to one, a line forming around the counter dolling out chips for cash. You take it all in, as if it’s a scene in a movie, observing all the background characters... still, you don’t feel like the star. 

A sharp pain strikes your arm suddenly and you stumble into Bucky. He keeps you from teetering onto your ass as he hugs his arm around you. Your cocktail slips out of your grasp and the glass cracks on the floor, splashing the remnants across the carpet.  

You’re pressed into Bucky as the unstable man latches onto the tall stool he just slid off of. The impact of his elbow thrums in your arm and you rub the tender spot and wince. Bucky shifts you behind him and moves as fast as a shadow. The back of his dark jacket strains across his shoulder blades as he grabs the man by his collar. 

“Hey, what the hell are ya doing? Watch yourself! You nearly knocked my woman over,” he sneers as he as good as shakes the man, “you made a mess of my carpet, you scumbag.” 

“Bucky,” you squeak in horror, the hot eruption of rage surprises you. He is a different man; he looks more like a wolf as he snarls at the offender. “It was an accident--” 

“Nah, it was a mistake,” Bucky brings the man even closer, “get the hell outta my casino before I break you like that glass.” Bucky shoves him away and kicks the broken glass on the floor, “now.” 

He puffs his chest out as the other man rambles drunkenly, apologising and staggering, skittering off in an uneven gait. He glances back several times as if fearing he’ll be followed. Bucky signals across the room and you see a man in a suit nod; he must be security. 

“Bucky,” you touch his elbow and gently graze his sleeve down to his hand, “are you okay?” 

He opens his fist and lets you tuck your hand into his. You’re quaking again. You cling to him out of need. You’re adrenaline rings in your ears. You don’t like anger. 

“I’m sorry--” 

“Don’t be sorry, doll,” he squeezes your hand as he exhales the tension from his shoulders. He looks down at your hand and lifts it, turning to you as he kisses the back of it. He leaves a tingle on your skin, “I like that.” He tightens his grip as he keeps a hold of you, “you need a fresh drink, doll.” 

[summer-of-bad-batch]

SUMMER OF BAD BATCH 2024 HAS COME TO AN END…TUNE IN NEXT YEAR FOR SUMMER OF BAD BATCH 2025!!

2024 Participants, Completionists & Overachievers!

SUMMER OF BAD BATCH 2024: POST CREDITS (Ao3 Collection)

EVENT BADGES

PARTICIPANT FORM

☀️GENERAL INFORMATION BELOW THE CUT☀️

Bad Batch Would You Rather Game Suggestions

FREE EVENT BANNERS AND DIVIDERS

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 Prompt List

***Fill prompts all summer! No deadlines! See below cut for more details 😎***

200 Followers Celebration Bonus Prompt:

Bonus Alternate Prompt: "Can you braid my hair?"

300 Followers Celebration Bonus Prompt:

Bonus Alternate Prompt: Light in the Darkness

Week 1

Main Prompt: Water Gun Fight

Alt. Prompt: “It’s not what you think.”

Week 2

Main Prompt: Injured

Alt. Prompt: Comfort Zone

Week 3

Main Prompt: “It’s just a scratch.”

Alt. Prompt: “Forget I asked.”

Week 4

Main Prompt: Cadets

Alt. Prompt: "You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen."

Week 5

Main Prompt: “You’re a bad liar.”

Alt. Prompt: “Need a hand?”

Week 6

Main Prompt: Battle Scars

Alt. Prompt: “Get out of my room!”

Week 7

Main Prompt: “Don’t avoid the question.”

Alt. Prompt: Getting a Haircut

Week 8

Main Prompt: Swimming Lessons

Alt. Prompt: Lula

Week of 9

Main Prompt: “Hold still.”

Alt. Prompt: Stargazing

Week 10

Main Prompt: Hugs

Alt. Prompt: “Just when were you planning on telling us that?”

Week 11

Main Prompt: “I didn’t think I would get this far.”

Alt. Prompt: “Yeah, kid, we’re fine.”

Week 12

Main Prompt: Nightmares

Alt. Prompt: Radio Silence

Week 13

Main Prompt: “Stop touching me!” // “I’m not touching you!”

Alt. Prompt: Crashing Hard

🥳🥳That’s the end of the Summer of Bad Batch 2024 prompt list…feel free to use all prompts and tags forever and ever🥳🥳

You can find the Ao3 collection HERE!

And I know that sometimes, it can be a pain to figure out how to add to collections (please tell me I'm not the ONLY one who has struggled with this 😭), so here's a step by step!

STEP ONE: Post a New Work OR Edit an existing work.

STEP TWO: Under the Associations category, you’ll see “Post to Collections / Challenges”

STEP THREE: Type summerofbadbatch2024 (no spaces)

STEP FOUR: This is where it gets tricky...the collection may or may not auto populate. If it doesn't, that's okay. Just leave summerofbadbatch2024 in there as is, and save the post (you can even save it as a draft and see if it worked!) It should add it to the collection even if it didn't auto populate 🤓

Q: What is Summer of Bad Batch??

A: Summer of Bad Batch is a laidback, summer prompt challenge from June 1st-August 31st. Every Sunday (12am CST), a prompt and alternative prompt will be released to inspire creativity in the Star Wars: The Bad Batch fandom! By filling prompts by August 31st, you can qualify as a:

Participant (completed 1-12 prompts)

Completionist (completed 13+ prompts)

Overachiever (completed 13 main prompts + the 13 alternative prompts)

At the end of the challenge, there will be a form for participants to fill out to let me know what category of completion they fall into. A post will be made for each category giving a shoutout and (if you’d like) a link to your Master List of completed prompt fills.

Q: What can I do to fill a prompt?

A: Anything you want! Fanfic, fan art, drabbles, doodles, cartoons, poetry...the possibilities are endless! The only real criteria is that it has to be based on Star Wars: The Bad Batch.

Q: Will you reblog prompt fills?

A: Yes! However, since I am keeping this blog PG, I will only reblog prompt fills that fit within that criteria. Basically, if it could be in the literal show itself, it could be reblogged here ☺️

(That said, I won’t reblog any clone x clone content simply because it is one of my main squicks 😅)

Also, make sure you tag your prompt fills! That's the only way I'll be able to find them in the wide world of Tumblr! So, tag your prompt fills with #summerofbadbatch2024 so I (and anyone else who is looking for Summer of Bad Batch goodness!) can find your posts!

(And everything is welcome on the Ao3 Summer of Bad Batch 2024 Collection — so make sure to add to it if you’re on Ao3!)

Q: When will prompts be released?

A: Every Sunday (with the exception of Week 1, which will have a special release date of Saturday, June 1st) at 12am CST.

Q: What if I don’t understand a prompt?

A: Send me a message or an ask! I’d be happy to help!

Q: What if I don’t like the weekly prompt?

A: Every week will have an alternate prompt available! And alternate prompts can be swapped out for any main prompt, regardless of which week!

Q: Where can I post my prompt fills?

A: Anywhere you'd like! Personally, I'm only on Ao3 and Tumblr...but I know that this fandom is literally all over the internet, so wherever you feel comfortable posting, do it!!

Q: What if I don't finish filling the prompt within the week?

A: One of my favorite parts of this prompt challenge is that there are no deadlines! If you want to be a Completionist or an Overachiever, you just have to have the prompts complete by August 31st!

Finished week 2 during week 5? Great!

Finished weeks 1-13 during week 13?? 😅 That works!

Q: Do I have to post/publish my prompt fills to be considered a participant/completionist/overachiever?

A: Nope! I know not to everyone feels comfortable sharing their work, and that’s totally fine!

You don’t have to post/publish a single thing to qualify. At the end of the challenge, I’ll link a form for anyone who participated to fill out. This is all based on the honor system…so if you say you completed “such and such”…I’ll take your word for it 😊 If you want, you can still be given a shout out for whatever level of participation you said you completed. Just let me know!

Q: Can I combine prompts?

A: Yes! Mash up those prompts and make a custom, super prompt if your heart so desires!

Q: But can I combine prompts with other challenges?

A: Absolutely! If the other challenge allows it, feel free to combine Summer of Bad Batch as you see fit ✨

Q: Can I apply prompts to works I've already completed/posted?

A: Prompts should not be applied to already completed works.

But if you have a WIP that's been gathering dust that would fit the occasion, that would be fine!

Have a story that you're adding chapters to? You can apply prompts to new chapters! That's fine too!

Q: Will there be a complete prompt list available?

A: Not until after the event, since prompts will be posted weekly 😘

Q: Can I use the prompts even after the event has ended?

A: Absolutely!

You didn’t find your question here?? Send me an ask, I’d be happy to help!

[transformers-bold-bright-brisk]

[INTRODUCTION]

WELCOME TO TRANSFORMERS: BOLD BRIGHT BRISK!

So, since I was super indecisive about which side-plot I wanted to focus on the most, I just made two extra. Yes, all three sideplot story stuff will be posted on this blog.

They all coincide with each other in some way, some events will happen before one sideplot’s events, and others will happen after one other sideplot’s events, so on and so forth.

[TF Media Referenced]

- Rescue Bots Academy

- Rescue Bots

- Transformers Prime

- Robots In Disguise

- Cyberverse

- Last Bot Standing

- More Than Meets The Eye

- Lost Light

- Literally any other miscellaneous information I find on TF Wiki that I insert to fill a couple plot-holes, but aren’t significant enough for me to completely take inspiration from that specific medium

[Overview]

- The war was over between Autobots and Decepticons, and afterwards it was a big celebration while the rebuilding of Cybertron took place. Years after the reconstruction of Cybertron, and it’s newly revised government, there are now many more individual situations that have arisen from the aftermath.

[Asks]

1) Can Accept ✅

- Asks about the lore and characters are very much appreciated!

- I’m also open to do some small sketch requests that pertain to the characters in my Fan Continuity, and characters that are in it but aren’t explicitly mentioned.

- I might answer a few questions with a doodle if I really feel like it, but rest assured I won’t be able to do all of them.

- Oh, don’t worry if your ask sounds a bit “spoilery” I’ll let you know.

2) Won’t Accept ❌

- Sorry, this blog isn’t for role playing with the characters.

- Also any asks that have links to anything without a description or just look sketchy in general, your ask will get deleted.

- Absolutely under no circumstances will I answer any creepy asks like NSFW or anything 18+, it’s just gross to me.

- No bigotry, racism, sexism, or any kind of LGBTQIA+phobia at all in my ask box.

[Tagging]

#sphny speaks (𖦹<𖦹)•*°⊹

- Any and all rambles, reviews, drabbles, or small updates to keep people informed of any “delays” or just small brain farts that happen throughout my day.

#sphny alternates universe (𖦹ㅁ𖦹)•*°⊹

- Whenever I just start to ramble and just start grabbing random info from other TF franchise continuities and alternate them into my universe without a second thought(or many thoughts, depending…)

#sphny arts (𖦹w𖦹)•*°⊹

- Any and all art I make and post, whether it’d be just a draft, concept art, or art dumps that I draw to support my stories.

#sphny reblogs (𖦹Q𖦹)•*°⊹

- On this blog especially, I would usually reblog something from my main, or just self-reblog from my early works, and maybe occasionally something neat I would to add to my blog later on so I don’t forget.

#sphny answers (𖦹0 𖦹)•*°⊹

- Along with asks, I’ll be tagging anything I’ve answered under this tag, just for consistency’s sake.

#sphny originates character (𖦹▿𖦹)•*°⊹

- This rarely ever happens, but on occasion if I were to make an original character I’d make sure to tag it under this so I can be able to track it down easier.

[hippolotamus]

Tagged by @giddyupbuck @wikiangela @jesuisici33 @spotsandsocks @the-likesofus Thank you loves (and don't forget to check their snippets!) 💖

Managed to get some sentences in last night for you're where I wanna go (prev snippets here). I swear this is a Buddie fic, there's just a lot of intro first!

In a few short minutes Ali is given the bundle, efficiently secured with brown paper and white twine. “They’re lovely,” she sighs, burying her nose into them, inhaling the scent of spring and renewal.  Instantly, Buck is overcome with pride for her and sadness for himself. The twin sensations build in his chest, threatening to break free and spill to the ground. He truly is happy. She’ll get to pursue her dream, have a purpose.  “They are, aren’t they?” He agrees, handing over a few coins as payment, surprised by the knowing glance Miss Donato gives him. As if she senses what the act is truly costing him.  “Please come again,” she says. “I refresh the inventory often and have varieties for all occasions. And if you ever need anything particular, I’m always happy to assist. One never knows what you might want for the future.” Buck raises an eyebrow, curious if there’s any hidden meaning to the phrasing before shaking his head and deciding his emotions over Ali are getting the best of him.  “Thank you, Miss Donato. I’ll be sure to keep you in mind.” He hastily adds, “For any floral arrangements I may require.” She nods in understanding and waves them off, already turning to the next person approaching. “How may I help you today?”

For reasons he can’t parse at that moment, Buck has a sense he will be seeing her again. It’s silly to think so, it’s not as if he often has reason to buy flowers, let alone specifically from her. There are no fewer than seven formal shops, and dozens of stands, spread throughout the city to choose from.  “You didn’t have to do that,” Ali’s gentle voice interrupts his thoughts. “But I do appreciate them.” He smiles down at her, hoping he’s able to hide the darkness of his inner conflict. “No worries. Besides, I wanted to. And it would be in poor taste for me to send you off without a little something.” No more words pass between them as they walk together. The silence isn’t as it was barely an hour before. It’s not comfortable or soothing. Instead it sits in the nearly imperceptible space between them, a heavy reminder that once he delivers her to her doorstep they won’t be anything more than a part of each other’s past. A brief, hopeful thing that fizzled away before it could truly begin.

No pressure tagging: @shortsighted-owl @alyxmastershipper @eddiediaztho mi amor @disasterbuckdiaz @stereopticons @elvensorceress @monsterrae1 @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @911onabc @buddierights @heartshapedvows @loserdiaz @honestlydarkprincess @spaceprincessem @thewolvesof1998 @chaosandwolves @statueinthestone @eowon @apothecarose @rmd-writes LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy @barbiediaz @cowboy-buddie @your-catfish-friend @forthewolves @statueinthestone (if I forgot to tag you, no I didn't and consider yourself tagged!)

[council--board]

Status of Requests -> Stimboards are: Open -> Doodles are: Open -> Icons are: Open

Doc w/ each anon and request

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-> hello there. my name is Sebastian but you can also call me Kaizen. I switch names very often since I can’t keep using thr same names sometimes. I use he/him pronouns, please do not use they/them on me

-> I am a French Canadian user who’s primary language is French. I still struggle in English although I learnt the language when I was really young. this can make it difficult to find things

-> my interests for anyone curious. this updates from time to time + helps if anyone wants to request from anything I like

-> please be patient if youd send requests due to me sometimes taking way longer than usual to start on them. I am constantly tired due to lack of sleep but I can also sometimes be too busy to get to requests

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-> my main blog is @paintedcomputer where I am mostly active on

-> I also run @ultrastim and @paintedpaws-stims. I run the second with a friend

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-> anons are allowed to sign off with either a Name or an Emoji which will be recorded on a Google Doc. sometimes I forget to add some anons since they were either here before I made it or I simply forgot. I sometimes ask for anons to provide pronouns and/or a name to me so I can refer to them as something else rather than the emoji

-> guide that I made to help but I don’t mind trying to help through text. the only problem I have is that it’s difficult to explain

I will do: -> Original Characters -> Oc x Oc / Canon x Canon / Oc x Canon -> Kin stimboards -> LGBTQ themed boards -> Animals -> Fandom characters [catified designs / your own designs are welcome!] -> Fandom specific [such as a board based off the game undertale] -> Gift stimboards which is you requesting a board for someone else

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Fandom Specific would be asking me to create a stimboard based off Undertale and not a specific character from the game

ships are only welcome if they're fine to do. if you ever see me do a ship board where it's problematic, please inform me and I'll get rid of it. I try my best to do research on canon x canon to make sure nothing is bad

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I won't do: -> Spiders -> Soap Cutting -> Slime [specifically water slime] -> IRL people -> Kidcore

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• I won't be recolouring gifs because it's a pain in the ass so I won’t be able to match themes

• IRL people only applies to like actors, youtubers, etc. you get the idea. however, characters from a tv series or a movie is fine since I’m not directly doing the actor yknow?

--

Maybe: -> Bugs [it depends which ones]

-> this is a general stimboog meaning I will do absolutely anything ranging from media to original characters

-> when it comes to fandoms: I don’t give two shits what fandom you wanna request from. I won’t do what I don’t wanna do, I don’t think it’s necessary for me to have a list of fandoms I would not do since I’ll decide for myself. all I ask is that you Specify the fandom when requesting so it’s easier for research. even if I know it

-> when it comes down to kinboards, it’s pretty simple. inform me if it’s a kin and I’ll tag it as such unless I forgot. you are also allowed to ask me to write it down if people are allowed to tag it as Me/ID/Kin or whatever else people use [this also applies to general stimboards]

-> when requesting a ship, I ask that you format it as Character x Character rather than Character/Character so I can understand what it means without struggling a lot. anythign coming from Character and Character will be seen as strictly platonic

-> if you are wanting me to use a specific image of a character, please provide it to me since I would sometimes not be able to hunt it down with vague descriptions. you can either send the image through the ask or provide a link. I would prefer Official over Fanart since I would prefer that fanart is able to be used because of the creator allowing it [+ I’ll need the post]

-> please be specific with your themes! you are definitely allowed to not request anything and letting me go absolutely wild with the stims but it will require me to research about the character meaning it can take a while

-> three characters max on 1 stimboard

-> you are allowed to request multiple boards at once if you want to instead of waiting for me to finish everything. as long as my requests are open, I welcome you with open arms. you are also allowed to request thr same character multiple times or the same fandom multiple times, I don’t care

-> if I can’t find a gif or anything specific, I may change something you asked from me

-> I am allowed to deny any requests that I am not comfortable working on. I will not answer the request to say I am not doing it, instead I will simply delete it

“ I noticed you wrote [insert thing here] on the post. what doesnit mean? “

sometimes I will add in texts depending on what it is but often I don’t. these refer to things I made for myself specifically instead of a request or something generic

-> for my own benefit - these are boards I made for myself and only me, meaning I didn’t make it for someone else or just a random board. I will specify if I don’t want people doing anything on it

-> I know what you are - no this does not mean I’m calling you gay, this is some text I put whenever I know who requested it if they’re on anon but I don’t always add it

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“ what do these tags mean? “

-> stimboard-logs - this is the first tag I created whichh was based off my original name for the stimblog. despite the new username, I decided to keep it so it’s organized and doesn’t require looking at two different tags to find general stuff. this is a tag for anything unrelated to boards but I also tag my boards with it

-> gabriels stimboard - only for stimboards I create get tagged with this

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-> Stimboards: " hey could I request a Gabriel from Ultrakill stimboard with themes of wings, gold and swords? " can also be written as " Gabriel [ultrakill "

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-> Ship stimboards: " hey could I request a v1 x v2 from Ultrakill stimboard? " can also be written as " v4v [v1 x v2 ultrakill] " -> if you write down their ship name, please specify the names separately for easier research

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-> Kin stimboards: " can I get a Foxy from FNAF stimboard? this is a kin request "

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-> Doodles/Icons: " can I request a doodle/icon of [character/oc] " doodles can sometimes be actual drawings instead of normal doodle if you request doodles/icons, I will obviously want to be given the ref of the oc

-> what are some requests you would deny? anything that makes me uncomfortable to work on or if it's problematic in some way then I'll deny it. I also avoid anything that wants me using bright colours or if the character is really bright [which might just be me putting an overlay on it] since bright colours gives me bad headaches

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-> is there anything you won't allow for themes? spiders, water slime, anything on my " won't do " list really

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-> could I make a blog inspired from yours? you don't have to ask, anyone is allowed to make a stimblog. I might look at your blog if you do make one though and I'm aware of it

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-> can I ask for this specific thing again? go ahead! I don't mind

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-> can you tag this for me? yeah, sure. make sure to tell me if it's a cw or tw because I don't know the difference :[

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-> am I allowed to request a stimboard for someone else as a gift? YEAH!! please do, these are fun to make

[zozo-01]

Four Times David Thought of Asking + The One Time Angel Did

*faceplants* Y'all I did ittt! Hello! Welcome to this behemoth of a fic! This was just me tryna break up the angst I was writing, but then I started thinking about David and his relationship with control and how Angel had a huge part in him easing up on said control. Add a little projecting onto David and thus, this turned into five stories in one mega-fic.

Thank you sooo much to @angel-bubbles for giving me some ideas! I really couldn't do this without your input! And tagging @bittersweet--chaos because they're a doll!

Warnings: Post-Inversion feelings and Depressive episode ->(Moment #3), Suggestive themes and Mentions of sex -> (Moment #4)

click here for the ao3 link!!!

--

David Shaw was a man who valued control.

Every action must be premeditated and executed to perfection. Anything less would never be up to his standards. But he swears it's not a problem. If things don’t go his way, he won’t make a big deal out of it.

‘That is a fucking lie Shaw, you are the biggest control freak I’ve ever met.’

Ok, maybe he has some control issues. 

There have been times in his life when David didn’t have a say in the situation. He didn’t have a say when either of his parents died, nor did he have a say when he was named Alpha at that young age. Both life experiences had caught him off-guard and left him scared, confused and hurt. A hurt that he refuses to let himself go through again. He will not let anything else blindside him.

Well, that didn’t exactly go to plan. Something did blindside him and that was when his future mate stalked him. Before anyone says otherwise, yes he fully believes that Angel was stalking him that night. That’s not the point though.

It will always baffle him how impulsive Angel can be with certain decisions. From asking him out that fateful night to moving in with him after less than a year of dating, he will never understand how they’re able to throw caution out the damn window.

‘It’s because I trust you, Davey! I have faith that you won’t hurt me. That’s why I can be carefree around you, and I hope you feel at ease around me too.’

Whether they knew it or not, his Angel succeeded. They somehow made the Alpha of the Shaw pack, known for his stoic nature and tense shoulders, relax. It’s a big ask considering who they’re dealing with, but like always, Angel did it effortlessly. 

For once in his life, David was ok with not having control.

As he stared at the ring that adorned his finger, he realized that the moments where Angel made him let go are the reasons that they were the person he wanted to marry. He thinks back to those moments and the eventual proposal and wonders what the hell he did to deserve this. 

Perhaps it was only when he finally put down the burden that rested on his shoulders that he was able to enjoy life. 

It also helped that Angel made his life worth enjoying again.

Moment #1: They made him forget the unease of being in a car.

Over the years, David has developed some habits to cope with his unwariness in a car. His arms were stiff when holding the steering wheel, made sure his foot was hovering over the breaks, kept his eyes on the road at all times, and most importantly-

“Angel, for the millionth time, I do not want any music playing while I’m driving.”

One of the annoying things about David is that he refuses to let music play in the car while driving. He claims that he doesn’t want to be distracted on the road, but the pack notices the way his eyes glaze over and his voice slightly cracking. He would never say the full reason, but it would take a real dumbass to not figure that out.

“But Davey! It’s way too quiet and this is a damn road trip! If you won’t talk to me, then the least you can do is let me jam out,” Angel said while pouting. They crossed their arms and puffed out their chest to show that they’re annoyed, but honestly, David thought they looked cute sitting like that. Their adorableness didn’t negate the fact that he really didn’t want music to be playing right now.

David took in a shaky breath before continuing. “Angel, I know it’s boring without any sound, but I just-” Angel cut him off, “then I won’t play anything.”

What David didn’t know is that when he started speaking, his eyes had glazed over and his grip on the steering wheel tightened. ‘Maybe he was remembering something bad?’ Angel thought. They didn’t know. What they do know was that David needed this. And who were they to deny their boyfriend something he needs.

One thing about Angel that he loves was their ability to know when to push and when to stop. Of course, it has been a learning process for them both. But they were learning each other’s boundaries. And they were learning together.

“Thank you, Angel,” David sighed out, before focusing on the road again. 

A few moments went by before Angel started humming a tune, one that David was familiar with. He let out a groan and if he wasn’t driving, he would have banged his head against the steering wheel. 

“Oh, I’m sorry if the humming is bothering you. It’s just that it's a song that’s been in my brain and I have to hum it so it gets out, but I totally understand if you need me to stop and,” Angel kept on rambling and apologizing. The longer they were explaining themselves, the more out of breath they became.

David let one hand go on the steering wheel and held his Angel’s hand. “Look at me Angel, you’re ok just breathe with me.” Angel looked into David’s eyes and he swears that their eyes could only be compared to the moon. Once Angel's breathing calmed down, David explained why he became annoyed with humming.

“It’s not you, I promise. The song you’ve were humming is a stupid ‘Hall and Oates’ song that Tank used to blast when we were younger,” David said with disdain in his voice. “At one point, they did it specifically to piss me off, so now anytime I hear the song, I just want to die on the inside.”

Angel started laughing that beautiful laugh of theirs. “Why though? It’s such a sweet song. Never would have thought that Tank would be into it,” they mused. David looked at the smile that was on their face, and he immediately felt at ease.

He forgot that he was in a car, something he hasn’t been able to do since his father died. Angel had made him forget it. Their presence was enough to keep his mind from fixating on every detail that he needed to control. Maybe he could try…

“Hey Angel, can you open that compartment for me?” They did as they were told and were met with a CD. Angel looked up at David who was reminiscing about… something.

“I was a fussy kid and it took me forever to put me to sleep. My… My dad used to drive me around when I couldn't. Apparently, driving around the neighbourhood knocked me the fuck out.” David let out a little chuckle. “The CD you’re holding is the one that he’d play every night to help me sleep, and I want to listen to it with you.”

“David… you don’t have to play any kind of music because I asked,” Angel said nervously as they fumbled with their shirt.

“I want this. I promise.” Angel nodded and put the disc into the CD player. 

For the first time in forever, a road trip karaoke session was held in David’s car.

At that moment, David thought he was blessed with a real angel on his side. Their bright smile and siren-like voice that he wouldn’t mind spending forever listening to.

‘Huh. Never would have thought I’d want to spend forever with someone, but I wouldn’t mind if it was them. I should ask them about it. Not now, it’s way too soon. But one day, I will propose to them.’

Moment #2: They knew when to take over when he was overwhelmed.

Nothing was going right today.

David woke up late that morning, meaning he couldn’t get his morning coffee (or his morning kiss from Angel). His car decided to break down on the way to work. When he did manage to get there, he was hit with a bunch of paperwork to fill out and phone calls to make. The Department was taking fucking forever finalizing his plan for the E&E Games. Milo and Christian got into their third petty argument of the day. And he can’t find his fucking pen to sign these goddamn papers. So the last thing he needed to deal with was a bunch of pups following him and asking a billion questions.

Which is exactly what he was dealing with at this moment.

“Mr. Alpha, who’s the stronger wolf, you or Tank?”

“Asher says that you do a backflip and I want you to teach me!”

“Can I have some candy? I really want some candy!”

He swears that he likes the kids. They’re cute, ask the most stupidly amusing questions and it’s adorable seeing them flail around in their wolf forms. Not today. He cannot deal with this today. Usually Tanker would be the one taking care of the pups, but they’re having a similar morning to him and everyone else is too damn busy with the Games coming up. 

‘It’s ok, just take a deep breath. They’re just kids and they don’t deserve to be screamed at because you’re stressed.’

A few moments of blissful silence go by. The kids are talking quietly among themselves and David finally feels his headache leaving him.

…“So, who is the stronger wolf?” An innocent question, but one that sparked a very loud argument from the children.

David couldn’t bother listening to their argument. All he could make out was variations of “David would win because he’s the Alpha” or “Tank would win because they’re a tank,” but what they were saying didn’t matter. What mattered was that killer migraine was coming back and the pressure on his chest was increasing steadily. 

He laid his head on the desk, trying to drown out everything. Every past mistake, every decision he has to make, every terrible outcome that can happen. He just wants to let go of everything and… he doesn’t what the fuck he wants to do, but he doesn’t want to live the rest of his life like this. Under this intense scrutiny and pressure and stress. Having to be perfect for the people who rely on him and if he messes up, then they all go down with him.

He wishes Angel was here to do something. Anything. Just them being there would be enough to make that pain go away.

“Hey kids, maybe I can take you to the park so David can get his work done.”

The Heavens had heard his prayers and answered by sending an Angel to him.

Standing by the doorway was his Angel in all their glory. They were giving their iconic reassuring smile. The one that screamed ‘don’t worry, I got this.’

At the mention of the park, all the pups got up and ran over to Angel. They jumped up and down with glee at the prospect of them doing something that wasn’t sitting around. Angel had even come prepared with snacks and toys for the pup to play with too.

They walked past the hyper children into David’s office with a bag in hand. “I noticed that you didn’t get the chance to eat breakfast. Sooooo,” Angel trailed as they reached into the tote bag they brought with them and pulled out a lunch box. “I thought that I’d make you some lunch!”

David raised his eyebrows while taking the lunch box. “You made this? My Angel who lived off of ramen and fast food made me lunch?” The skepticism was dripping from his voice.

Angel let out a small laugh. ‘Cute.’ “Well maybe your cooking lessons are finally paying off. Besides, if you don’t like it, I’m sure Ash and the others can buy something for ya.”

David opened the box and was met with the most delicious looking sandwich he’s ever seen. He picked it up and took a bite of it. To call the sandwich delicious would be an insult to Angel’s good. If Heaven had a taste, it would be this sandwich. “This is perfect Angel, thank you so much.” Although there is one thing he is wondering. “What are you doing here?”

“Welllll, a certain Beta told me you were having a pretty shit morning. So me being the incredible mate I am, I took the day off at work and came over to help.” The more Angel spoke, the bigger the smile grew on his face. ‘How incredibly lucky am I to have a mate to share my weight with.’ “Now I’m going to take the kids to the park and you are going to eat and finish your work, okay?”

“Ok,” he responded. Angel walked back to the restless kids and left for the park, leaving David alone. Finally, he can work in peace and quiet. He can already feel the headache leaving again. Though the one thing he’d change would be to have Angel stay for longer. Make up that morning kiss too? He scoffed at the thought. ‘When did I get so soft?’

After a few hours, David got all the paperwork done and decided to see how Angel and the pups were doing. He put on his jacket and walked out the building to go to the park.

It was a walking distance from the office building. The path there is one that is engraved in his memory. When he was younger, David, Asher and Milo would sneak out of pack meetings to go to the park and play. Once David became Alpha, he had made a rule that the pups were to be accompanied by an older pack member if they wanted to go to the park. Asher and Milo claimed that the rule is ‘too much’ and ‘way overkill,’ but David just wants to make sure his pack is safe. That includes the annoying and endearing pups.

David arrived at the park and saw a sight that made his heart melt.

The pups were in their shifted forms and dogpiled Angel. His Angel was laughing and petting the pups that covered them. It seems as though Angel and the pups were fighting, and the pups had won. He can already imagine his mate boasting about how they let the pups win.

‘Angel is really good with the kids.’

“Yo Shaw.”

‘I wonder if they’d be this happy if we had our own kids.’

“Hellooooo, David?”

‘I’d need to marry them first, just to make sure that the process wouldn’t be messy. I wouldn’t mind marrying them. They took this responsibility off my chest and I thank them immensely for that.’

“Are you fucking- That’s it.”

A sharp pain exploded in David’s jaw. When he looked up to see who laid the punch, he was met with his disgruntled lone wolf.

“What the fuck, Tanker? What was the punch for?” David nearly yelled, in complete confusion of the wolf’s actions.

“Oh, you’ll be fine. I didn’t punch you that hard,” Darlin’ said while rolling their eyes. They continued “and to answer your question, I’ve been calling your name for the last five minutes and you weren’t responding.” Darlin’ looked at the view that David was watching and saw Angel playing with the pups. They looked back at him and saw the lovesick look in his eyes. Darlin let out a smirk and a low chuckle. “So, when’s the wedding?”

David turned to look at his cocky pack member. ‘This fucking shit, I swear.’ “There is no wedding Tank. I don’t even know what put that idea in your head.” 

Darlin’ raised their hands in mock surrender before saying, “hey, I’m just saying. I mean they are your mate. Forgive me if I assumed that a wedding was coming.” Darlin’ returned to look at the pups and Angel, who was carrying the pups around in their arms. “They’ve been good for you. Ever since they got here, you’ve been less stressed about everything, and I’ve only been back for a few months. You’re letting them carry part of your burden.” Darlin’ walked towards the unempowered human and the rowdy pups. They turned back to give a final message to David. “You got a good thing going Shaw, don’t fuck it up.”

“Don’t worry.” Angel noticed the two wolves standing aside and flashed them a dazzling smile.

“I don’t plan on doing so.”

Moment #3: For better or for worse, they would do anything for him.

David was tired. Drained. Exhausted.

For once in his life, he wishes that time would speed up.

It had been two weeks since the end of the Inversion, but David feels like it had been a few hours since he came home from the arena. 

The first week was easy. It was easy to get lost in all of the ceremonies and speeches. He may have been disgusted with himself standing on that stage, but it was something. There was work that he could do. Something to focus on and not think about the smell of blood and death that clung onto him, despite the numbers of showers he took.

The medals were awarded and the public appeared to be put at ease, and there was no more work to be done. The elders in the pack had agreed to temporarily relieve David of his duties as Alpha to give him time to heal from what had happened. He tried to argue that while he went through one the most traumatic moments that a person can go through, he’ll be ok. He just wants things to be normal again. 

The pack refused and the decision was made. David was to spend the next two weeks relaxing.

A quiet voice appeared in his head. A voice that he’s long been familiar with.

‘How dare you lay here safe and sound, while hundreds are dead?’ The voice had taunted him. ‘Why are you and your family alive when so many lost theirs that day? Who gave you, David Shaw, the right and audacity to have this happy ending?’

Usually, David has the strength to power through those thoughts. There was always a task more important than hostile thoughts festering in his head. 

Now, he didn’t have the energy to stop thinking.

Memories of the carnage left by the shades flood his brain. How can something with no form bring so much fear? How could it do so much damage? How come he couldn't prevent more people from dying?

‘You damned everyone in the arena that day, yet you’re the one who comes out on top.’

‘The Big Hero, Dahlia’s Saviour.’

‘What would your father think of you parading around, when Milo, the real hero, is forced to keep quiet? How could he stomach having a son who takes credit for his friends’ actions?’

A sane person would tell him that he wasn’t at fault for what happened that day, but he didn’t care. More accurately, he didn’t have it in him to care. It may have not been him who opened the portal, but he put up the wards. He trapped those people inside. He trapped his family inside.

In his mind, David was a murderer. One that had gotten away with his crime.

A soft knock came from the door and a voice was heard. “Hey Davey, can I come in?”

He let out a grunt that sounded enough like a yes and Angel walked inside. With them was some chicken noodle soup they had made for David. They put the tray with the bowl on the bedside table. Angel pointed their head towards an empty spot on the bed, silently asking if they can sit down. To that, he gave a light nod.

Angel sat down cross legged beside David, with their body facing his. They ran their hand through his hair, hoping they could take away everything that was hurting him. Realistically, they know that it won’t be enough to heal him, but it’s all they can do right now. 

Just be there for him. Make sure that he isn’t alone to face everything again. 

Do everything they can to make David feel better. God knows that being ‘ok’ is the least that David deserves.

Angel being there was enough to make him feel better. Granted, it wasn’t much, but when you feel as empty as David does in this moment, any kind of feeling is welcomed. With the little energy he can muster, he took Angel’s hand that was running through his hair and pressed a gentle kiss on it. He let his lips linger as a promise. That right now things are really fucking hard, but one day everything will be ok. That he will be ok.

That they will be ok.

Angel gave their vibrant smile and used the hand that David was holding to cup his cheek. They thumbed the eye bags that have become more prominent over the last two weeks. He covered Angel’s hand with his own and pressed their hand further into his face.

‘We’re safe. We’re alive. We’re here, together. And that’s all I need.’

…‘I wouldn't mind spending eternity like this with them. Maybe I should get Mom’s old ring ready to give to them. Not now, but when things get better, I’ll ask them.’

The Fourth time was when he realized he’s never been more relaxed than laying beside them.

The most heavenly sight he’s ever laid eyes on is Angel underneath him. They’re breathless and glowing and it brings David so much damn pride knowing he’s the one who made them like that.

“As always Davey, you’re amazing,” they said, panting in between each word. He was only partially attentive to what Angel had been saying. His gaze was more focused on the bruises blooming all over their body. The trail of bruises started from Angel’s neck, down their torso where it ended in between their thighs. “I know I’m sexy and all that, but I would rather you listen to me.” David looked up to Angel smirking. They looked so enticing, almost enough to make go for a round two.

Almost.

David rolled his eyes at Angel’s comment and moved to leave the bed. Angel whined and wrapped their arms around his neck as an attempt to keep him close. They gave a deep and slow kiss and if David was a weaker man, he'd never leave their bed. Angel broke the kiss and asked, “come on, David! Can’t we stay like this for like, five minutes?” Angel gave their best pouty face, but it wasn’t enough to deter him.

“As much as I love to lay here with you, I want to take care of you.” Angel nodded and let David go, allowing him to get up. He reached to the bedside table and grabbed the damp washcloth. Begrudgingly, he began to wipe Angel clean of any evidence of what just happened. 

Once he was done cleaning himself and Angel, he put on a pair of boxers and left the room to get them both a cup of water. Walking down the stairs, he started to think about how easy sex was with them. He’s had partners before, though not as many as some of the other wolves. In the past, David could never truly be himself during the act. He had been what his partners wanted, someone for lack of better words, would fuck them until they couldn’t walk and leave the next morning.

With Angel, it was easy. He could laugh when the bed breaks, tease them however he pleases and on days where David is tired from work, he can let his Angel take control. He can already imagine how baffled the rest of the pack would be if they find out. David Shaw? Letting someone else take control in their bed?

But just as easily as the water flowed in the cup, Angel had made David comfortable to be himself.

Not the Alpha of the Shaw Pack. Not David Shaw with a capital D and S.

Just David.

David walked back upstairs to their bedroom with the cup in hand. He opened the bedroom door and saw his Angel laying in bed. They were wearing his shirt and boxers and ‘damn, they look good in them’. He shook off those thoughts out of his head and walked further into the bedroom. He handed Angel the cup of water. They took a gulp of water before saying “thank you,” flashing a grateful grin.

Once Angel was done with the water, they handed the cup back to David, who put it on the vanity table. They moved over, allowing David to get in bed. He wrapped one arm around Angel’s waist and used the other to guide their head to lay on his chest. After a while, their breathing evened out, leaving David alone with his thoughts.

‘Tomorrow. I can get Mom’s ring and ask the pack to help me make a plan. Something grand, but private. Just me and my Angel, all I’ve ever needed.’

David went to sleep, thinking about the different ways his proposal could happen.

+ The one time Angel asked instead.

Of all the ways David thought this could happen, this was definitely not it.

“Hey, do you want to marry me?”

David choked on and spat out the water and toothpaste mixture in his mouth. After a little coughing fit, he looked at Angel with wide eyes. For someone who basically proposed, Angel seemed casual. They were sitting on the edge of the bed with their arms resting behind them. 

David collected his thoughts and asked, “are you asking me to discuss the possibility of getting married? Or are you proposing to me?” There’s no way. No, he wanted to do this grand proposal for them. They cannot be stealing his thunder like this.

Angel raised their eyebrows at David and responded with a questioning tone. “I’m asking to marry you? What else does ‘hey, do you want to marry me?’ mean?” Angel got up from the bed and walked to the bathroom. They leaned against the doorframe waiting for David’s response.

David’s mind blanked out and all he could say was “why?”

Angel rolled their eyes before making themselves home in David’s arms. They wrapped their arms around David’s neck and kissed a bruise on his neck in an attempt to knock David out of this trance.

Angel huffed and gave David their answer. “I mean, we’ve been together for a long ass time, and I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. Marriage is the next step in our relationship.” Their face fell as doubts started to fill their head. “Unless you don’t want to get married, which I completely get. Shit David, I didn’t mean to push you into making a decision. I was just thinking about it this morning and-” Angel was cut off with a kiss to their forehead.

“But what about a ring?” It was a simple question, but one that he hoped would buy him some time to find a way to properly propose to them first.

Angel unwrapped their arms to pick up the floss string container. They pulled out some string and pulled one of David’s hands off their waist. They held his hand in theirs and used the floss string to tie around his ring finger, finishing it off with a pretty bow. “Et voila! There’s your ring!”

David stared dumbfounded at the ‘ring’ and let out a stomach cramping laugh. 

‘Of course my beautiful, incredibly intelligent and stubborn Angel would use fucking floss string as a placeholder for a goddamn engagement ring. God, I love them so fucking much.’

Once his laughter died down and he could breathe again, Angel flashed David a radiant smile. 

“You still haven’t answered my question David. Will you marry me, David Shaw?”

Their answer was their mate pulling them into his body and giving them a searing kiss. His arms wrapped around their waist and he wanted to pull his mate, his Angel, as close to him as possible. Angel’s arms tightened around his neck and their fingers found home in his hair.

David wanted to pour everything in that kiss. His love, his admiration, his lust. He wanted that kiss to be his answer, one he was ready to give since the beginning of their relationship.

That David Shaw will spend forever by his Angel’s side. It had been written in the stars since the dawn of time that these two will find each other. That they will fall in love. He knew it the fucking moment that he saw them that they were going to be special to him.

David pulled away from the kiss and rested his forehead against theirs. Their eyes sparkling with the brightness of the future and a soft smile adorning their face.

‘I really need to give them Mom’s ring now. I’m going to spend the rest of my fucking days with the most perfect person ever. Damn, what did I do to deserve this?’

“David~? Do I need to get Tank to knock you out of a daydream again?”

David blinked back to reality. He was still sitting at his office desk and now Angel was leaning over his desk. Angel got up and walked around the desk to get to him. As they were making room to sit in his lap, they said, “I was calling your name for like, five minutes now. What’s got your head in the clouds?” 

David chuckled before squeezing Angel’s thighs. “Nothing, I was just thinking about how happy I am that I’m going to marry you.”

Angel smiled at him and rested their head on his chest. “I don’t blame you Davey, I’d be happy to marry me too!” David rolled his eyes at his mate’s comment and kissed their head. His eyes caught the glittering ring on their finger, the one that belonged to his mother. 

For the first time in forever, David felt at peace with himself.

All it took was an Angel to be the guide to his happiness.

[neozmark]

remember me / mark (teaser)

pair: spiderman!mark x reader

genre: spiderman au, fluff, angst, suggestive

words: 0.5k (teaser) 

warnings (in the full fic): cursing, kissing, violence (might add more)

synopsis: after asking to doctor strange for everyone to forget that mark lee is spiderman in order to solve the problem in the multiverse, mark will continue to live his life quietly without even knowing he exists. not until he walked into the cafe where you work and saw you laughing with your friend, hoping to see you again as he promised. will he still be able to reach out to you?

note: HELLO !! this part is somehow really like from no way home but the other parts in the fic will not be really based on the MCU cause ofc idk what happens next LOL and let me remind u that you won’t understand this if u haven't watched no way home! but if u still want to read this, go on! btw the pic i used is from twitter. its not mine hehe. lmk if u want me to tag u in the full fic of this. thank you! <33

—

It was chaos. After Mark Lee's identity was discovered, he requested Doctor Strange's help in making everyone forget who he was. Even interrupting Strange's spell to exclude his family, friends, and, of course, his girlfriend. Strange decided to discontinue the spell and lock it away since it got unstable while he was doing it.

While Strange did not completely cast the spell, instead of making people forget who Mark Lee was, it began to draw others from parallel realities who knew Spiderman's identity. Mark recognized that the only way to rectify this was to keep casting the magic and made everyone forget who he was.

Before casting the spell, Doctor Strange says farewell to his closest friend, Haechan, and his love, you, saying, “I’m going to come find you and I’ll explain everything. I’ll make you remember me,” Mark says, and those are the words he recalls. After all of that, he promises to find them both.

Mark remembers what you last said to him. “I love you,” you said as Mark grinned, tears in his eyes, and flew away with the web-shooters. Doctor Strange's spell has come to an end.

Mark finds himself in front of the cafe where you work. He noticed you laughing and working joyfully. You waved as he walked inside the cafe. Mark noticed you waving at Haechan, who was standing behind him. Haechan approached you while passing Mark, who is currently watching you two converse.

“Haechan, wait,” you murmured as you approached Mark.

“May I help you?” you inquired, smiling at him.

“Uh, my name is Mark Lee—” Mark paused, unsure whether he should say anything further, “and may I have a coffee?”

“Oh, sure, Mark Lee,” you said, smiling as you often do with your customers. You went to chat to Haechan again while making Mark's coffee. You're both talking about finally going to MIT, a well-known institute.

“Mark Lee? Mark Lee,” you said after you delivered him his ordered coffee. “Your coffee,” you said as he looked on from a distance. 

“Right, thank you.”

“Are you excited for MIT?” Mark abruptly spoke, which perplexes you. He must have overheard you and Haechan talking.

“Uh, yeah, right,” you paused, “Yeah, actually, I am excited which is weird ‘cause I don't really get excited about things. I kind of expect disappointment —"

“‘Cause then you'll never actually be disappointed. Right?” Mark broke in.

You had a flicker of deja vu. This seems to have occurred to you previously. But you already told Mark that, and he'll never forget it.

“Is there anything else?” you asked.

“No,” Mark said, smiling. “Thank you,” he says as he takes his coffee in his hand.

“No problem,” you said.

“I’ll see you around,” Mark says as he looks at you and Haechan.

Mark left delighted that he had chatted to you, but his heart aches to embrace and kiss you. He can't do it this time since he still needs to figure out how to recover their memories.

—

[frogtanii]

confusion.

that’s all daichi felt as he stumbled from yachi’s office after he finished his interview, the dim light coming from the sunset washing the hallway in a layer of color.

he wasn’t sure what to expect at first when he’d been called in, the previous members downright refusing to share what they’d discussed, but he had heard whispers that whatever you talked about was... bad.

you’d disappeared into your room after your interview, refusing to let anyone but atsumu in and even then, atsumu came out of his time with you looking worse for wear. neither of you joined the rather tense game night and it was clear the others were worried, but daichi just couldn’t understand why.

why were all the other house members (besides osamu) suddenly so invested in you and your well-being? contrary to popular belief, daichi was not dumb — he knew this was a long time coming, more of the people who he thought were his friends abandoning him to join you.

well maybe not just you, but they seemed to spend an awful lot of time and energy on the woman who’d destroyed meiko’s life. he just couldn’t make sense of it.

he was even more thrown when sugawara, his best friend, joined the trend and stopped talking to him, supporting you to the fullest and avoiding him at every turn. it felt wrong, somehow, that koushi was no longer by his side but he didn’t know what to do about it.

they clearly had a difference in beliefs — sugawara was hard pressed to believe that meiko was some kind of horrible person and daichi... well daichi loved her. he knew he did.

these thoughts overwhelmed him to the point where he was unable to sleep, tossing and turning while his mind raced to unravel the mystery of what was going on in the house.

“fuck,” daichi sighed as he glanced over at his alarm clock with bleary eyes. it read 2:57a and he let out a loud groan. there was no way he’d be able to sleep like this. he wracked his brain for something, anything, to help and he came up with a memory of akaashi telling him that a warm mug of chamomile would send anyone right to sleep.

letting out another sigh, daichi stood to his feet and trudged out of his room and towards the kitchen, ready to finally get some aid but as he approached, the sound of soft voices hit his ears.

on the couch sat you and koushi; you were wearing an oversized shirt (that must have belonged to bokuto) and colorful pajama pants (his guess was that they were kenma’s) and koushi was wearing old sweats and a hoodie. he looked shaken up about something, his eyes rimmed red as he muttered something to you, whatever was said prompting you to reach out and pull him into a hug.

daichi felt like he was intruding and severely out of place, his mind screaming at him to just turn around and go back to his room but he knew if he did, he’d never sleep, his mind full of even more questions than he had before.

so instead, he chose to clear his throat loudly as he walked further into the room, the sound frightening the both of you and causing you to let go of one another.

you shot daichi an uneasy, tired smile as you stood, before patting koushi on the shoulder and leaving the room. sugawara watched you go the entire time with metaphorical stars in his eyes and his heart on his sleeve. daichi repressed the urge to roll his eyes, instead turning toward the kitchen to prepare himself some tea.

to his surprise, sugawara didn’t leave the room. he actually made his way to the kitchen and sat at the counter, watching daichi fill up the kettle and place it on the stove.

the silence wasn’t awkward or oppressive but it was heavy, the unasked questions hanging over them in the air. it was daichi who chose to break it.

“so, what was that about?” he winced at the state of his voice, cracky and weak but he powered through, chancing a glance at his old friend.

sugawara looked tired but also defeated, like he was simultaneously expecting that question and wishing that it hadn’t been asked. “i was apologizing.”

daichi knew he was staring incredulously now but he couldn’t help it. suga was apologizing? for what? what could he possibly apologize for? when he voiced this, koushi scoffed and turned away.

“are you kidding? we have so much to apologize for. we all treated her like shit.”

“but doesn’t she deserve that? she hurt meiko deeply!”

“nobody deserves what we did! nobody! god, daichi, yn has done so much for me and—“

“like what, hm? what exactly has she done for you?”

“i... i can’t tell you that.”

“can’t or won’t?”

the room fell into silence, a stark contrast to the shouting that had been taking place just moments before. both men were warring with themselves and suga was the one to give in.

“meiko assaulted me, okay? is that what you wanted to hear?” koushi’s voice sounded so weak, so broken, and daichi saw red.

“...what?” the words were uttered low and disbelieving as daichi clenched his hands into fists to keep them from quivering with rage.

suga ran a hand through his sliver locks before shaking his head. “i really don’t want to talk about this with you, daichi.”

“but you’ll talk about it with her.”

“fuck off, that’s not fair and you know it,” koushi spat, pushing himself to his feet as he was readying himself to leave. he looked so hurt that daichi couldn’t stop himself from grabbing his arm gently.

“i know... i’m sorry,” he spoke quietly, his brown eyes shining with unshed tears and sincerity. he just wanted suga to open up to him, for them to go back to the way they used to be but he was different now. they both were.

koushi shook his head softly and gingerly removed himself from daichi’s hold. “i’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” he whispered before turning and disappearing into the darkness of the hallway.

daichi was alone. again. he sniffed and wiped his eyes to get rid of any residual tears as he moved back to the kitchen to finish making his tea. not that it would do him any good—the information he was just given would definitely keep him up until morning.

he was having a difficult time processing what had just occurred and yet, he knew he was in the wrong on multiple occasions. he’d abandoned his best friend in his time of need and sided with his attacker. daichi couldn’t even claim that he was suga’s friend anymore with what he’d done. no, he’d earn back his place. he just needed to figure out how to make things right.

whatever it takes.

℗ poker face

whatever it takes

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - daichi arc start! skdjjd anw this chapter is a lil wack??? but i hope it at least gets the point across lmfaoo oh n daisuga are working out their issues! s not as cut n dry as the other friendships were but i think this way adds more ~flavor~ hehe don’t forget to feed me!! <:333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[guardianofrivendell]

Back by popular demand (lol two people but let me have my moment): the Guardianofrivendell Birthday Writing Challenge!  

A writing challenge?

Yes! To celebrate Tullaina's and my own upcoming birthday on June 11th, I challenge YOU, my dear mutuals, friends and followers, to write! Because what better way to celebrate my birthday than by being creative?

You can write anything from a little drabble to a full-blown 5k+ words fic story, whatever you feel like. But about what?

Well... If you remember last year, the writing challenge was all about the Incorrect Tullaina Quotes. I’m bringing them back because it was a lot of fun, but I’m adding two more options for those who want to try something else this year or simply don’t want to write about my OC (which I totally understand!!)

You can write fluff, angst, even smut, use every cliche trope in the book if you want, but make sure to tag your work accordingly so no one gets surprised!

You can find the three options further down this post. 

How do I participate?

If you decide to join this little writing challenge, I'll be forever in your debt and super super grateful that you helped by not letting this flop!

Send me an ask or dm if you want to join this challenge with the option of your choice. I'll list the participants in this post and depending of if they want to, I’ll add what option they chose so you’ll have a basic idea of what everyone else is doing (because we like that, we’re human after all)

Deadline is Saturday June 11th 2022, this means you’ll have about 6 weeks time to write your work. On June 11th, everyone can post their work on Tumblr using the tag #Guardianofrivendell Birthday Writing Challenge 2022 so we can find the fic and don't forget to tag me in it!

The day after I’ll link all the works in one big GBWC 2022 Masterlist. 

Can I post the fic on other platforms too?

Sure! Go ahead and post it on AO3, Wattpad or whatever platform you use outside of Tumblr.

What if I can't write, but I want to draw something or make a moodboard?

Uh... Yes please! You don't even have to ask! Same thing, send me an ask or dm that you’ll join the challenge and I’ll add your name to the list. You can still choose between the three options!

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to send me an ask or message! I’ll probably reblog this post a lot of times the next 6 weeks, so sorry in advance for that :)

I read this post but I still don’t understand what this challenge is or what I have to do?

Don’t worry, we all get that sometimes! Luckily for you (and me!) I did this challenge last year as well. You can read all the works and watch the beautiful art pieces here so you can see how my wonderful mutuals and friends took on this challenge like a boss! Aren’t I the luckiest one?

Alright, alright, we get it! Now get to the options already!

You can choose out of three options, or combine them if you want, go crazy:

Pick a quote (or quotes if you’re feeling ambitious) from the tag “Incorrect Tullaina Quotes”. Use it as inspiration, build your story around it or use it as part of a dialogue in the fic. Your choice!

Search the tag “Incorrect Tullaina Quotes” in the Tumblr search bar or on my blog and you’re supposed to get most of them that way. There are over 100 incorrect quotes, so I can’t link them all in this post. It would simply be too much. However, if there are enough people who do want a list with all the quotes lined up, let me know and I’ll see if I can collect them in a doc and link that doc here. It’s a lot of work, so it can take a while before I’m able to do that.

If you need more information about my OC Tullaina, you can find fics, arts and her character sheet in my masterlist. 

As you all know I’m a pretty slow writer and cursed to be visited by plot bunnies all the time. This can be quite frustrating because I know I won’t be able to write them all, even if I really, really want to.

So why not challenge you to write them for me? 

Under the “read more” cut you can find a selection of Tullaina Plot Bunnies, little moments out of Tullaina’s life that I was planning to write someday. Some are almost summaries of the (non-existing) fic, while others are just “what about so and so”. 

Don’t be afraid to write Tullaina OOC because you can’t! If I learned anything about last year’s challenge it’s that I love every version of Tullaina that was created, not once did I think “She wouldn’t say or do that!” because I was so in the moment!

Isn’t that a question we all ask ourselves sometimes? What if?

Well, now is the moment you can find out! Under the cut are 10 “What if” questions. Pick one and rewrite a scene from The Hobbit or Lord of The Rings, or write a new one!

For example, what if you pick the question “What if Thranduil was the smallest Elf in history?”, you could imagine how the scene in the throne room between Thranduil and Thorin would go a little differently... Let your imagination run free!

Thought of a What If-question that you would love to write but can’t find in the list? No problem, then you’re choosing number 11! 

Participants

@midearthwritings​ 

@grunid - art

@beenovel

@medusas-hairband - art plot bunny

@sunnyrosewritesstuff​ - what if 

@sketch-and-write-lover

Tullaina Plot Bunnies

Here you can find little snippets out of Tullaina’s life that I wrote down in a doc (literally, it’s a copy paste out of that doc minus two that I really want to write myself) because I wanted to write a fic about it at some point. But you know me, I can’t write fast so who knows when it’ll get done, if ever. Feel free to give it your own twist! 

Tullaina has a nickname ‘Tulls’, but only Fili and Kili use it. They get very protective if anyone else picks up on the nickname and uses it to address Tullaina. What would happen if at some point (say at a feast or gathering), another Dwarf uses the nickname when he talks/flirts to her? Could be any period of time: Ered Luin, during the quest, in Erebor, ...

There’s a ball in Ered Luin, the first one since forever (mostly to boost morale a bit) and the first one Fíli, Kíli and Tulls are allowed to go to. It’s the first time Fíli sees Tullaina all dressed up (hair done nicely, a proper dress). His mouth runs dry and he knows it will be a long night this way. How does the evening go? 

Tullaina is trained by Thorin and Dwalin, and sometimes even Fíli and Kíli. She has the normal amount of training every Dwarrow gets, but once she decides to join the Quest, her training sessions pick up. What would a training session look like? How is she doing? And why doesn’t she wield an axe? Ered Luin era 

When Kili meets Tauriel (? or another OC?) and falls in love during the quest, he tells Tulls he wants to ask her to marry him. And then Tullaina wonders ‘but who am I supposed to marry now?’ because they promised each other when they were teens that if they didn’t find their One they would stick together, maybe even marry each other. And she jokingly says (but secretly also kind of means it) that she’ll forever be alone now. Fili is standing there, he wants to swoop in and say something smooth like ‘you will always have me’ but can’t seem to find his voice. The moment is broken when Bofur says just that, and it becomes one of their ‘almost’ moments.

“Uncle Thorin” moments with Fíli, Kíli and Tullaina

There was really only one other Dwarf who genuinely wanted to court Tullaina, when they're in Erebor. You can imagine how that affected Fili... How is he dealing with this? And Kíli (aka their biggest shipper?)

Fíli runs into Kíli late at night, he’s looking for Tullaina. “Have you seen her? She’s not in her room and I can’t find her anywhere.” They’ve been working all day for the past few weeks. “Do you think she could have left?” “Maybe she finally got enough of being alone, we’ve neglected her” etc etc They look for her in the library, great hall, the stables but can’t find her anywhere. Slight panic, Fíli freaking out, Kíli trying to reassure him. When they’re on their way to alert Thorin and Dís of her disappearance, they find her sleeping with a book in her lap in a nook in one of her secret reading spots.

Once they’re settled in Erebor, married and all, Fíli surprises Tullaina with a grey puppy called Mouse (kind of like a Great Dane but the ME version of it, so... BIG, Fíli hates the name she gave him), as a guard dog for her when he’s out (worried husband y’all). Turns out it’s one big softie and instead of being weary of new people he’s welcoming to everyone. Until one time he doesn’t and everyone is suspicous. Rightfully so. 

What If?

Pick a number and (re)write a TH/LOTR scene of your choice with this question in mind, or create a new one (a deleted scene if you want)

1. What if Dís went on the Quest, along with her brother and two sons?

2. What if Ori was the one to fall in love with Tauriel (movie verse)? 

3. What if Boromir survived the arrows? 

4. What if Hobbits could talk to animals? Like tiny dr Doolittles?

5. What if Gandalf couldn’t keep a secret/can’t lie?

6. What if Smaug was a different kind of animal?

7. What if Víli, father of Kíli and Fíli, was still alive when they leave for the quest?

8. What if Middle Earth was more modern than Tolkien let on?

9. What if Elves can’t tolerate water (maybe it burns them or harms them in some way) ?

10. What if one of the Hobbits is cursed with saying everything the opposite of what they mean? (fe yes means no, I’m sleepy means I don’t want to go to sleep)

11. (your own What If question)

Tagging a few people who were interested: @midearthwritings​ @beenovel​ @grunid​ 

[thescarletwitchsapprentice]

A Pure Soul: Nearly Taken (Yandere!Wanda Maximoff x ADD!autistic!reader)

*Not my GIF.

Summary: The day (y/n) comes back to the compound after being told all those nasty things takes a toll on their mental health and self-esteem. Unfortunately it gets to a point that Wanda hoped it would NEVER reach.

Request?: Still none.

Word Count: 3,456

Warnings: Ableism, eugenics mention, r-word slur, attempted suicide, attempted overdose, hurt and comfort.

Notes: This is a sort of “in-between scene” from “A Pure Soul.” The rate of suicide is 3 times higher in autistic people because of the world’s lack of understanding and willingness to accommodate us. Plus being told the world would be better off without you, along with people looking for ways to make sure we’re not born....that’s gonna take a toll. So it makes sense for these feelings to emerge.

=============================================

You know that the world isn’t very kind to the disabled.

You know that the world wishes people like you wouldn’t exist.

But that doesn’t make what happened hurt any less.

You were out shopping when you ran into your best friend from high school. Except....this friend wasn’t the same as you knew them. No, instead they showed you their true colors.

“Oh hey, (y/n),” they said.

Tone has never been your specialty.

“Hey!” you exclaimed happily as you were looking through the books at your local bookstore. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! How are you?”

“Better. How’s the treatment coming along?”

This confused you.

“Treatment?”

They nodded.

“For that disease you call autism.”

This struck a chord, and it struck HARD. How could they say something like that?!

“D-disease?!”

They smirked.

“I mean, it just makes us humans lives harder to be around your kind.”

What?!

“What the hell’s gotten into you?!” you exclaimed. “I thought you were my best friend!”

“Oh?”

They pretended to wrack their brain.

“Oh! Yeah, I was such a great actor in that part. I should get an Oscar. Here’s the tea; I lost a bet and had to be your best friend for those four hellish years. I can’t believe they wanted me to suffer that much.”

Your heart began to crack. It was all....an act?

“You took my high school years away from me, made me miserable. I could’ve won prom royalty, but no one voted for me because I associated myself with your species. I’m glad you’re out of my life now. You’re nothing but a burden and the world would be so much better off without you. Why not do us that favor?”

Your heart shattered. You were so plagued with shock that you didn’t notice them push you to the ground and spit on you before walking away with a satisfied chuckle. For the next few minutes, you couldn’t say or do anything. You were just frozen to the spot, their words bouncing around your head.

Finally you were able to feel both the physical and emotional pain. Pursing your lips, you got up, kept your head down, and quickly left the bookstore, trying not to let the tears fall.

===============================================

In the elevator, heading up to your floor, you can barely form a new thought. All you can think of is that hurtful interaction. 

Burden, your kind, your species, disease....

It all hurt. 

And the worst part is that you can’t help but think that they’re right.

But your thoughts are jolted by the elevator bell. As usual you find the Avengers hanging out in the lounge. Nat and Clint are chatting with Wanda. Tony and Peter are working on homework. You can barely see what the others are doing. 

Almost instantly, Wanda’s eye falls on you. She has a smile on her face, but it falls when she sees you, as she instantly knows that something is wrong. 

“(Y/N)!” she whispers worried.

She rushes over and gives you a gentle hug, but you practically squeeze the life out of her. The other Avengers also come to your aid. 

“What happened?” Wanda asks you.

You gulp as she and Nat lead you to the couch.

“I....” you begin as you sit down. “I was out shopping....and I ran into my best friend from high school....”

You tell them the entire interaction. Shocked looks are nearly all around by the end.

“That’s seriously messed up,” Nat says in a mix of disgust and anger.

The others nod in agreement, except for Wanda. Instead she begins to tear up. 

“My sweet angel,” she weeps softly as she hugs you closer and pets your head. “Oh, my sweet, sweet angel. None of what they said is true, not one bit of it. You’re an absolute joy to have around and you’re one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met. You bring so much to the Avengers and to our lives. Autism is not a disease. It’s a part of who you are, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Wanda’s right,” Peter nods. “You’re wonderful, (y/n). You’re one of the best friends I could ever ask for.”

“And you bring a lot of new perspectives,” Nat adds. “You came into our lives when we needed you the most, especially Wanda.”

They all take turns giving you words of comfort and encouragement as well as letting you cry. Wanda stays the closest to you, to no one’s surprise, hugging you tightly. Her embrace is exactly what you need right now; so warm and loving. 

Tony, though not the most emotional person, does feel sympathetic and even angered at the person who said that to you; even though you’re on the opposite side of the Accords, he decides to get your favorite food for dinner. It’s not the greatest gesture of sympathy, but it’s definitely something. After that, you take a nice, warm shower and get into some fresh, soft pajamas. Wanda’s waiting for you in your bedroom, and surprises you with some soft socks that match your pajamas.

“I removed the fabric tags too,” she tells you.

Your heart melts a bit more for her. How someone as kind, attentive, and loving as her could ever be considered a terrible person is beyond you. You let her put them on your feet and they feel amazing. You wriggle your toes in them, smiling. 

“You like them?” she asks you.

“I love them,” you giggle before turning to Wanda. “And I love you.”

She smiles and gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“I love you too, my angel.”

The two of you spend the rest of the night together, cuddling up close with one another, watching sitcoms, singing quietly. You doze off in her arms.....

But that doesn’t mean it’s over.....

==============================================

You’re not someone who easily forgets how things make you feel, and what that person said still makes you feel like shit. Now whenever you go out, you’re worried that you’re going to run into them. You keep your guard up and walk as quickly as you can. Every outing feels like a fight for survival, but you try to stay strong so that you don’t bother the others. You try to keep a smile on your face. You need to be strong.....

.....But even the strong reach their limits.

It’s a little after you found out they became catatonic. You’re at a coffee shop, nearly empty, when someone else walks in. It’s a friend of that person. You keep your head low as they place their order; four cups of black coffee, extra hot. Your anxiety is increasing, but you don’t want this person to think you’re weak. You keep your back to them, hearing the door open again. 

The other person is called for their order. Maybe you can finally get out of here.

The next thing you know, you feel something steaming hot being poured down the back of your shirt, on your head, thrown in your face, (which you luckily cover most of with your arms) and splattered on your arms and legs. Standing up, you cry out in pain as you whirl around to see 4 people from high school, among them the friend of your former best friend.

“It’s your fault my best friend can’t function, you retard!” the friend snaps as they push you around roughly.

“No one wants you on this planet,” spits another.

“You’re nothing but a parasite!”

“You just weigh people down!”

“You’re an embarrassment to society!”

“Why don’t you just end this?”

“It’ll be better that way!”

“Your birth was a mistake!”

By this time, you’re hardly a thread’s width away from a meltdown and you look at the cashier for help, but nothing. You try to take out your phone to call for help, but you end up slipping on the coffee, falling to the ground hard and in an odd position, hearing a crack. Pain surges through your body as you look at your arms; burn marks are beginning to form.

After they kick at you for a bit and spit on you, they leave. You look up at the cashier. 

“Why....didn’t you help?” you whimper with a whistle in your voice.

No answer. 

They don’t help you up either. Crawling to the door, you use a nearby booth to bring yourself back up to your feet. Suddenly you feel an intense surge of pain in your left leg, and not just from the burns. You look to see that it’s swollen and turning reddish-purple. You reach into your coat and get out your phone only to discover that it’s dead. Wanda’s going to be worried sick....you hate making her worry, and she’s been worried sick these last few weeks to the point where it’s taking a toll on her; so on the way back, you decide to take one worry out of her life for good.

======================

It’s dark when you get back to the compound. And lucky for you, the elevator is closed for repairs. You limp up the stairs, finally reaching the compound. As quiet as a dust mite, you open the door, biting down on your lips to keep yourself from crying out in pain; unfortunately, your lips took some burn damage as well. Limping to the bathroom, you shut and lock the door. You search the medicine cabinet and find some pills.

“This should do the trick,” you whisper.

You try to quietly position yourself on the floor so that you won’t hit your head. You want to be able to pass as peacefully as possible. But something gives in your left leg and you fall, letting out a loud cry of agony. Realizing your mistake, you quickly fiddle with the lid of the bottle as you hear footsteps rush in. You finally get the lid open and begin to pour out the whole bottle into your hand, hoping to get it in in time--

Click!

The lock turns scarlet, clicks, and the door swings opens. 

“(Y/N)!”

A terrified Wanda immediately snatches the pills and bottle from you with her powers. She makes them disappear before heading to your side, tears already flowing from her eyes.

“My sweet angel.....” she squeaks as she kneels in front of you gently taking ahold of your hands. “I didn’t realize you were feeling this terrible. I’m so sorry things have reached this point.”

You look away guiltily. 

“No, I’m sorry....it’s my fault. I never said....anything. You....you’ve been so stressed these past few weeks....all of you. I didn’t want to make it worse on you, so....I just kept quiet.”

Wanda shakes her head.

“You have nothing to apologize for, (y/n). It can be scary, but there’s no shame in reaching out. We all need help sometimes.”

Other footsteps rush in.

“What happened?” Nat asks. “Did (y/n)---?”

“Almost,” Wanda gulps. “We need to get them to the emergency room.”

“I’m fine,” you lie.

“Are you fine?” Wanda asks.

You realize that it’s pointless to lie, and you shake your head.

“No, I’m not....”

“Then we need to take you to the emergency room.....”

That’s when she sees the burns and leg.

“Especially to treat these.....what happened?”

As they carry you to the car, you tell them about the run-in at the coffee shop, them pouring the hot coffee on you, how they were telling you all of these things, how the cashier did nothing to help, how you heard that crack. Both of them are disgusted and horrified at those monsters.

“I don’t care what they say,” Nat tells you as they get you inside. “I’m glad that you’re here.”

“I am too,” Wanda agrees as she gets in the front seat. “We’re here for you.”

“But.....my autism.....”

Wanda gently takes ahold of your fingers, careful to avoid the burns.

“My angel.....I can only imagine how isolating it feels to be in a world that’s not made for you, but your autism is part of who you are. It’s what makes you unique. If the world refuses to accommodate for people like you on their own, we’ll help them to see that they need to, and we’ll help advocate with you.”

Nat nods as she starts the car up and the three of you head for the ER.

“I....I feel selfish worrying you like this and even attempting....I just thought....you’ve been so stressed and I thought it’d be better to take one worry out of your life.”

“You have nothing to feel selfish about,” Wanda assures you. “What you did wasn’t selfish. You’re in pain, and wanting to do something to stop that pain isn’t selfish. But there are better ways to deal with the pain, and I want to help you with those. (Y/N), I can say with 100% certainty that I’m glad to have you in my life, through the good and the bad.”

Tears flow down your face as the three of you silently drive to the ER.

=============================================

It takes several hours for you to be treated, along with a few more hours of consultation for your mental health. Some of the burns are treated through surgery, so you have to stay for a little over a week to make sure you recover and stabilize. Your leg is put in a cast, and Wanda comes to visit you everyday. You feel much better with her and Nat.

A psychologist comes in to discuss a safety plan with you. You decided to ask Wanda if she’d come and discuss it with them. She said yes and Nat also decided to help. You all work out what works in terms of coping mechanisms, people you can talk to, calming techniques, etc,. The psychologist also recommends regular counseling. Wanda asks if there are any remote options for counseling, as it’s going to be difficult for you to get there with your leg, (Also, she’s a little worried that the therapist might try to take you away from her, but she does show concern for your leg) and to her relief, there is. 

You’re discharged after about a week, but you’re not to be left alone for a few days to another week or two, just to be sure. Well, it’s more of Wanda’s recommendation than psychologist’s orders, but the psychologist also thinks that that could be a good idea. You’re not really complaining; it’s more time to spend with Wanda. And she’s certainly not complaining either.

For that time, especially, she makes sure you know that you’re loved, wanted, valued. She practically dotes on you; as if she hadn’t been doting on you before, she’s especially pampering you now. The other Avengers also get the 411, and decide to help. If you need pain or sleep medications, one of them brings the proper dose to you. They take turns spending time with you and getting to know you more. If they need to go out on a mission, Wanda volunteers to stay with you, but if she’s absolutely needed there, she entrusts your care to Vision, a robot who’s exceptionally caring. You and Wanda regularly discuss possibly adding him to the relationship, but you’re not sure if she’s being serious or not. 

On one night, Wanda’s caring for you. After applying the prescribed cream on your burns, she helps you find an oversized t-shirt to wear as PJs. 

“This one’s softer than the others,” you note.

“I went looking for a shirt with a softer material than normal,” she tells you as she prepares a small dose of melatonin for you, one that you’ve been taking to combat the nightmares of those events in the hospital. “I know how much it tends to make you feel discomforted if there is one. I also made sure it was a tagless shirt.”

You smile and sigh.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve an angel like you, Wanda,” you tell her.

Hearing this she smiles and blushes.

“If anyone’s the angel, it’s you,” she says as she gives you the melatonin. “You’ve been there for me even when I’m at my absolute worst.”

“So have you.”

You take the melatonin before Wanda brings you your toothbrush and toothpaste. You brush thoroughly before spitting it into a cup that Wanda disposes of. 

“You know, I could go to the bathroom and do this myself,” you tell her kindly.

“I know,” she sighs. “I’m just worried, my angel.”

“What if I wash my face tonight with the door open?” you suggest.

Wanda gives this a little thought and nods. 

“I can work with that.”

Using your crutches, you walk to the bathroom where you sit on a stool in front of the sink. You wash and dry your face before heading to the bed with Wanda helping you get tucked in.

“You’re seriously an angel,” you tell her. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone outside of my family that’s been as concerned about my well-being as you.”

“And you’re too sweet,” she smiles again as she finishes getting ready for bed herself. “If anyone’s the undeserving, I don’t deserve you.”

“No, it’s the other way around,” you say.

“No, I’m certain I’m right.”

You giggle.

“Wanda, if we try to prove one right over the other, we’ll be going at this all night.”

She smiles as she goes over to the other side of the bed. 

“Well, I know you’re an angel,” she tells you as she gets under the covers. “You came to me in a dark time, and you shone a beam of sunlight through the shadow.”

The two of you look at each other as the fairy lights hang above you. Of course you’re looking at the bridge of her nose, but you can’t help but glance up at her eyes a few times; one time they catch you, and they are stunning. They’re like emeralds to you; vivid, entrancing, mystical. Just a single glance, and you know there’s so much to know about, so much to discover, and you become lost in them. 

“I’m so proud of you, (y/n).”

Wanda’s gentle voice echoes against your eardrums and dances around your mind, soothing you into drifting even more. But then she boops you on the nose, making it twitch like a bunny’s and snapping you out of your trance.

“Huh?” you ask, looking lost.

Wanda giggles.

“You are too cute,” she tells you. “I was saying that I’m so proud of you for pushing through all of this. It’s not the easiest thing to do, and.....well.....I’m glad you’re still alive, my sweet little sunbeam.”

You blush upon hearing this and turn away, but Wanda gently redirects your face forward.

“There’s no need to hide, my angel. I want to see your lovely face.”

At that moment, you begin to feel drowsy and bring yourself closer to her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough, Wanda,” you sigh.

She brings you in closer and you melt into her embrace.

“Being with you, and you being safe and happy and alive.....that’s the only thank you I need.”

Leaning in, she kisses you gently on your forehead and you shyly return one on her cheek. 

“Goodnight, my angel,” she tells you as she brushes a strand of hair out of your way.

“Wait,” you say as she turns to switch the lights off. “Will....will you sing me those lullabies again? Please?”

“Of course,” she smiles. 

Turning the lights off, she returns to embrace you and softly sings the Sokovian lullabies her parents used to sing to her. As you drift off to sleep, you don’t know what’s going on in her mind. What’s going on with her mind? Her master plan, of course. Tonight’s the night she will finish what she started. Those monsters at the coffee shop messed with the wrong person. For the past few nights, she’s been paying them visits, doing the same things she did with your former best friend, and sending subconscious suggestions for them to gather in one place, thinking they’d be safer together. And now they have.

Tonight she’s going to make sure their minds are gone for good, but not before making them feel the pain and agony she imagines you felt. Her anger with them is in full throttle, so it’s going to be even worse for them. Telekinesis, fear projection, hypnosis, inducing extreme fear, she’ll do whatever she has to. Wanda will not leave until they’re nothing more than hollow husks, shadows of their former selves. With how they’d been acting on those nights, and how much Wanda has done so far, it won’t take too long. 

Because no one-and she means no one-gets away with hurting her precious angel.......ever.

[marauderundercover]

Ice Cream Weekends

Hi, this is just fluff. Pure fluff and nothing else. (Reverse Robins and Bio!dad Bruce)

Ages: Damian (23) Marinette (21) Tim (16) Jason (14) Dick (9)

“Dad, we’ll be fine. It’s one weekend. We’re not helpless.” Marinette reassures her dad, practically pushing him out the door. If he cancelled another trip with Selina, she’d be pissed. And a pissed off Selina means that the wedding is gonna be pushed back and Marinette was not about to let that happen. Not again.

“Are you sure you and Damian can handle the others? And you’re sure I don’t need someone to fill in for Alfred?” He asks, obviously trying to find a reason to stay. Marinette huffs, crossing her arms as she glares up at her dad.

“Are you forgetting that I basically grew up in a French bakery before coming to live with you? Seriously?” She points out, smirking at the resigned look on his face.

“It’s the first time I’ve left Dick alone.” He says softly. She glances behind her, where Dick was currently chasing Jason in an attempt to get him to play tag. Her youngest brother was sweet, and despite the incident at the circus, seemed to be adjusting okay.

“I know. But he’s gonna be fine. I promise.” She says.

“Call me or Selina if you guys need anything. And I mean anything.” He says. She agrees, and waves as he gets into the car. Yeah, she’ll call them. When hell freezes over. She was not about to be the one to ruin their romantic weekend. If they really needed them, she’d make Damian call. He didn’t care about possibly ruining a romantic weekend. Locking the door, she turns and whistles, grinning as her youngest brother runs right to her, standing at attention. The other two trail behind him, neither looking excited.

“Okay men, we have an entire weekend without Dad. Do you know what that means?” She asks, posing to try and mimic a general.

“Ice cream for dinner!” Dick cheers, jumping up and down. Marinette grins.

“Right you are, soldier! What else?” She asks, quirking an eyebrow at Tim.

“No sleep?” He asks, finally smiling.

“Like that’s any different for you.” Jason mumbles with crossed arms.

“Good job boys. And what’s the last thing?” She asks, grinning as they all look confused. Perfect. “Nobody tells Dad!” She cheers, laughing as Dick whoops and starts running in circles.

“Or, you could be responsible like you told Father you would be. Actually make them eat dinner and sleep. Two things that are important for their health.” Damian drawls, walking into the room with his arms crossed. Marinette rolls her eyes.

“Or, you could stop being such a buzzkill.” She suggests. He scowls.

“I am not a buzzkill. I am, however, taking Father’s instructions seriously. Grayson and Todd are both supposed to be in bed no later than eleven.” He says.

“That’s not fair! What about-” Jason argues, clearly about to mention patrol, something he knew he wasn't supposed to mention around Dick. It was bad enough that Jason and Tim had taken up the mantle of Robin at 12. Dick would not be allowed out of the house in costume for several years. No way.

“Father said that Drake and I will handle it. You, Marinette and Grayson will remain here.” Damian says in a no-nonsense tone.

“Come on guys, we’re supposed to be having fun! Dad and Alfred are gone, it’s okay to just relax.” Marinette insists, letting Dick grab her hand as she starts towards the kitchen. “Dick and I are going to make gigantic ice cream sundaes and eat until we get sick. You losers can either join us, or go eat some stupid dinner that Damian buys because I’m not cooking tonight.” She adds, laughing as Dick cheers.

“Yeah losers! Mari and I are the best!” He yells, practically vibrating in excitement. Marinette grins. This was going to be the best weekend ever. Walking into the kitchen, she grabs the stack of special bowls she had bought specifically for this weekend. They were huge, perfect for giant ice cream sundaes and she’d gotten one for each of her siblings. She figured Jason would trail in eventually, if only to get away from Damian. She loved her brothers, truly she did. But every time he had to wear the cowl, Damian got cranky. It was annoying. She may find his uniform as Red Bird disgusting, but he was always more relaxed as his own persona. Pulling out several different types of ice cream and all of the toppings she could find, Marinette grins at the completely covered counter.

“Okay kiddo, how’re we doing this?” She asks, completely prepared to watch her youngest brother slip into a sugar coma.

“Can I have anything?” He asks, eyes wide as he takes everything in.

“Of course.” She says.

“Then I want chocolate ice cream and cookies n cream ice cream and cookie dough ice cream and fruity pebbles ice cream and the peanut butter cup ice cream with hot fudge and marshmallows and caramel and gummy bears and m&ms and whipped cream and a cherry and, oh! Sprinkles! Lots and lots of sprinkles!” He lists off all in one breath. Marinette blinks at him before nodding and beginning to scoop ice cream.

“It’s your sundae, kid.” She says, trying to ignore the nagging thought (that sounds an awful lot like Damian) that this was a horrible idea. She wasn’t going to listen, because that would mean admitting defeat and Dick would probably be upset. So hopefully nothing too bad happens.

“What the hell?” Jason asks, walking in. Marinette frowns.

“Language, Jay.” She reminds him, nodding towards Dick. He rolls his eyes, ruffling Dick’s hair before grabbing a handful of gummy bears.

“Is all that ice cream for him?” He asks, pointing at the huge bowl that she was currently drowning in toppings.

“Yup. Told you guys we’re going to eat ourselves into sugar comas.” She says, passing her little brother his sundae before starting on (a smaller) one for herself.

“Think you can get me a couple scoops of strawberry?” Jason asks after a pause. She looks over at him and grins.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She teases, switching over to getting his ice cream. She glances over at Dick, eyes widening when she sees the huge dent he’s already made in his ice cream. “Hey, slow down kiddo. You’re gonna get a brain freeze.” She says. He nods, but continues shoveling the ice cream in at an alarming rate. Marinette passes Jason his ice cream while sliding a glass of water to Dick. He frowns at it.

“What’s that for?” He asks with a pout as he hugs his ice cream bowl closer.

“It’s so you can slow down. I don’t actually want you in a sugar coma, buddy.” She says softly, he sighs, but still takes a long drink of water. Finishing up the toppings on her sundae, Marinette grins as Tim walks in.

“Does your offer of ice cream for dinner still stand?” He asks, holding a cup of what she knows to be coffee. She hums, turning to the freezer and grabbing the one ice cream she hadn’t offered to Dick.

“Is your favorite flavor still ‘Coffee Bean Blast’ from Trader Joe’s?” She asks, holding the container. Tim nods with a grin, watching as she gets him several large scoops.

“Thanks Mars.” He says, taking the bowl from her and adding his toppings. Hot fudge and chocolate covered espresso beans. She starts putting away the toppings and ice cream so that they won’t melt, knowing the chances of Damian joining them were slim. He’d never really acted like a kid. Not as long as she’d known him. And since he’s Batman for the weekend, he’d be even less likely to do anything fun. Just as she’s closing the last ice cream container, the kitchen door swings open again.

“I think it may be beneficial for our….bond as siblings, if I were to participate in this ice cream for dinner experiment.” Damian says, his face serious as he walks in. Marinette raises an eyebrow in surprise, but grins at her brother.

“What flavor?” She asks. This was going to be the best weekend ever.

---

Bonus: “I blame you for giving him so much sugar!” Damian yells, stacking a smaller stepladder onto their tallest ladder.

“How was I supposed to know the kid would be able to get up onto the chandeliers?” Marinette counters, sticking mattresses underneath where Dick was hanging precariously, a large grin on his ice-cream covered face. Maybe next time she shouldn’t let him have so much ice cream.

@maribat-bdbwm

[clairecrive]

“Favorite”- Alfie Solomons x Shelbysister!reader [Requested]

A/N: it’s been a minute since I’ve last written Alfie. Hope I didn’t mess it up. hopefully you’ll like it x It was requested by this anon and someone on wattpad.

Warning: some cussing (it’s Alfie so what did you expect)

Word count: 1.5K ish

Tagging: @mollybegger-blog​, @evelynshelby​, @br0ck-eddie​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @fandom--0verdose​, @sopxhiea​, @fuseburner​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, 

"Fucking Italians," y/n mumbled both angered and brought to close eyes by her thundering headache. Not that it helped but it was più forte di lei, after what those fuckers had put her through, y/n could barely contain her anger. If it wasn't impossible for her to stand without throwing up and probably fainting, she'd be already on her way to give them a piece of her mind.

"Retreat your claws, kitten. It's already been taken care of." A familiar voice spoke from beside her. She didn't need to open her eyes and look to know to whom the voice belonged. It welcomed her every morning and wished her sweet dreams on most nights.

"It's not. My fist hasn't met their faces yet."

His presence comforted and helped in rooting her. There was no point in getting all worked up while she was still in the hospital risking making her headache worse. Y/n knew that but to know and to act accordingly are two different things.

"Well then, that can be arranged, pet. For now, though, you need to rest," he tutted not even trying of hiding his amusement.

Y/n groaned.

"The world must be fucking ending if Alfie Solomons is the wisest in the room," she snickered knowing how prone to anger and action Alfie was.

He merely scoffs and despite not looking at him, y/n knew that he had shot her a mean glance. Indeed, she could only imagine the state she was in but whatever it was, it must not be a pretty sight. And whatever image Alfie had carefully crafted for himself over the ears, y/n knew that he was worried. Probably angry too but given what he said about the Italians, he had already acted on that leaving only worry.

All the more reason to resort to sarcasm then, y/n thought.

However, before any of them could add anything, the door of the room opened. And so did y/n's eyes.

Fuck, was the first thing that crossed her mind when her eyes fell on her brother.

This was not how she'd imagined being reunited with him.

"Mr Solomons," Tommy's tone matched the iciness of his eyes and the imperturbability of his expression.

It was something that y/n had always both admired and hated about him. It was amazing how aloof he was able to come across on any occasion, even though she understood growing up that it was achieved at great expense. However, when in a fight with him, it was greatly unnerving to speak with an unreactive wall of ice. A clench of the jaw was the most you could get out of him.

Y/n had learned how to deal with him and now it didn't bother her anymore, but still. Knowing how much shit she was in, she couldn't help but flinch at his tone. Even if it was directed at Alfie who, for the record, looked completely unbothered by it.

"Mr Shelby," he simply reciprocated the greeting as if he didn't hear the underlying question in Tommy's words. What the hell are you doing here?

"You were the last person I expected to find at my sister's bedside." But Tommy had never been one who shied away from confrontation, didn't lose any time and got right to it.

"Well, life is full of surprises, ain't it?" Topping his head a little further on his head so that he could clearly stare at him, Alfie gave him a smug smirk.

Tommy sat down on the other side of y/n's bed, his eyes never leaving Alfie engaging them in an unwavering contest.

Men.

"You should thank him." She found her voice even though she knew that Alfie didn't need her help and it probably meant for her to be caught in the crossfire. Better than having them shooting glares at each other.

Tommy's eyes snapped to her then, like she wasn't the one he'd come to see.

"You must already know what happened so that means that you're aware of his help." Making the most of his attention on her, she pleaded Alfie's cause.

"What I'm worried about is why he's involved in the first place." Taking a lighter and his pack of cigarette, he lit one.

"Like you don't know, Tommy," y/n snickered, "I know you've sent fucking Isaiah after me like a fucking dog." she huffed deeply annoyed at how his brother thought it was okay to have her controlled like she was a fucking baby. Not that Alfie would have let anything happen to her, anyway. But, above all, she knew how to take care of herself, thank you very much.

His jaw clenched - here it is- but he offered no response. No explanation, no apology. Not that y/n expected him to.

"S'alright Tommy. No need to thank me for protecting my favourite Shelby." Alfie butted in interrupting your siblings glaring. Y/n felt his hand wrap around hers, she didn't know if it was to emphasise his point or to offer her comfort. Either way, she welcomed it intertwining their fingers.

"Wisdom and a compliment both leaving your mouth all in under ten minutes. Fuck, the end of the world is fucking close indeed." Tightening her hold on him, y/n couldn't help but mock him. Not that it was a mystery how Alfie cared for her but he wasn't keen on verbal demonstrations, if it wasn't in the intimacy of a bedroom, so every time he did felt strange. In a good way though. Y/n truly appreciated it but she couldn't pass out on the chance to embarrass him. It was how their relationship was.

"Well, smelling death in the room will do that to ya," Alfie chirped back taking her jab in streak. Told you it was how they worked.

"Nice to know I need to die for you to be nice to me."

"You're not dead though, are ya?" His fed-up tone let on that he was almost regretting that she wasn't but his hold on her hand fooled no one. Well, just her since she was the only one aware of it.

"Still not too sure, to be honest." As holding up her head was proving to be a proving challenge, she rested it back on her pillow. Giving in, she also closed her eyes hoping it'll help.

"If you'd do as you're fucking told then you'd feel better," Alfie scowled.

"Can't you talk to your God or something and ask him to kiss my ouchies away?" She asked while her other hand went up to gently massage her forehead.

"Don't work it like that pet, right?" He somewhat growled at the insinuation no matter how ridiculous it was, "Can help you with that though if you want." And as if someone had flipped a switch, his tone turned suggestive.

"Thought you'd never ask." She smirked peeking at him through her lids.

It was then that Tommy cleared his throat, successfully snapping both of their attention to him.

"This is disgusting."  Disgust evident in his voice but it went unacknowledged by both y/n and Alfie.

"Glad to see you too, Tommy," was y/n's answer to his brother.

"I'm glad you're okay," he said eyes softening in the subtlest way when they landed on y/n. Then he turned to Alfie, " I won't forget this, Mr Solomons. Even though it changes nothing."

"Didn't think it would," Alfie answered while y/n simply rolled her eyes at them.

"I'll leave you to it, then." Pocketing the lighter he had been playing with, Tommy stood up and after lightly nodding at them he went to walk out of the room.

"See you soon, Tommy," Y/n called for him before he was out of the door but she knew that he had heard her.

"See you never," Alfie mumbled under his breath clearly of another opinion. Despite his intentions, y/n had heard him and went to smack him with whatever small energy she had left. Of course, her touch went almost unfelt but Alfie had the decency of feigning hurt.

"So, you know what this means." She spoke again after a while. She never much cared for silence.

"That you're brother's an ass, yeah. Already knew that, dove." Alfie pointed it out, leaning back in his chair, legs widening, his cane resting between them.

"That it's official," she smiled ignoring Alfie's jab at her brother, she looked at him smiling "you've met my family."

"Bloody hell, what did I get myself into." He grumbled hiding his face in his hands. Jokes on him though if he thought she was the difficult one between them.

"Oh shut up, I'm a fucking delight." Shifting around to get more comfortable, she closed her eyes again. It was time to get some rest.

"Yeah, in your sleep maybe." Knowing it to be true, y/n didn't feel the need to say anything, however, if her eyes had been opened she was sure to say anything about the fond smile on Alfie's lips. She secretly loved how much of a sap he really was. Not that she was ever going to tell him, of course.

[jimlingss]

(sorry my tumblr app glitched so im not sure if this was sent twice) taking a chance for the requests! how about a seokjin or namjoon arranged marriage au with this: “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.” 🎄 happy holidays!!

↳ Playground Promises

1.9k || 100% Light Fluff || Kim Seokjin

The bell rings.

Moments later, children are sprinting from the doors and flooding the playground. You watch in fondness as some climb the monkey bars while others sit and dig into the sandbox. All of them were forging their first friendships they’ll remember forever and you were their witness.

This is one of your favourite times of day. You enjoy seeing the kids have their fun, listening to their laughter and giggles, watching their games of tag to play pretend. But today, your enjoyment is interrupted by a certain male teacher that comes to stand behind you.

Tall. Dark. And handsome. His broad shoulders carry the weight of the third-grade class and practically the entire elementary school. But you’d never admit that out loud.

“It’s a bit chilly out today. You should’ve brought your coat with you.”

You hum.

Every staff member, married and single, swoons over Kim Seokjin. It’s hard not to. But if others knew what your relationship was with him, you’re sure you’d never hear the end of it. The kids would make a big fuss and so would all the staff and faculty, and you’d rather avoid that.

“I didn’t know you were on playground duty today.”

“I switched with Sana,” he says and leans over to smile. “Thought you could use some company.”

You scoff. “She’s perfectly fine company.”

The corner of his plump lip pulls. “If you want to talk about the mathletes program. And I’m pretty sure you don’t.”

Before you can respond, a boy approaches the two of you with pink cheeks and wind-swept hair. “Mr. Kim, can I go to the bathroom?” the third-grader asks in the midst of catching his breath and the older man nods.

“Go ahead. But don’t run in the hallway, Lucas.” 

Said boy grins and dashes off.

Seokjin turns to you and lowers his voice. “My mom’s been asking about the kids.”

Your brows furrow. “Why? They’re a good bunch.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t mean your class’ kids, I mean our kids.”

You blink owlishly. “There are no our kids.”

“That’s the problem.”

You sigh and roll your eyes. “Wasn’t getting married enough for them?”

Seokjin shrugs with a faint, mischievous smile. “They want to go out for brunch with your parents this Sunday. Are you free?”

“When am I not free?” you retort lightly, but slip your phone out of your pocket to check your calendar anyhow. Seokjin glances over to your screen and once you finish, you slip it back into your pocket. “I have some marking to do, but I’ll probably finish by then.”

“Okay.” The pair of you turn back to continue monitoring the children playing and you’re glad to revel in the silence that’s been created between you. But after a beat, Kim Seokjin pipes up again. You don’t know why you’re surprised. He’s quite the talkative guy. “Hey, Y/N.”

You look over and he meets your eye.

He asks, “Am I your lock screen?”

Your face heats. If you were once cold, now you were warm from head to toe. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” you mumble. It was just a picture from the other day and you wanted to change things up on your phone. You had nothing else to use. It was convenient. That’s it.

Your entire relationship with him is built on convenience. At least...on his side it is.

Still, Seokjin grins and fortunately, he doesn’t tease.

You rush to change the subject. “A-Anyway, yeah, Sunday works for me. But we should probably talk about this after work.”

“Why? No one’s around.” His smile is spread from ear to ear and he leans in, whispering, “Are you that scared of people finding out we’re married?”

Immediately, you whip your head in all directions. Luckily, there’s no kid or nosy faculty member. You turn back to him, glaring. “I already said, I like to keep my private life under wraps.”

“I remember. But if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were embarrassed of me.”

You scoff and a murmur unintentionally spills out of you, “That’s impossible.”

You don’t notice Seokjin’s smile.

It’s been three months since you got married. It was a summer wedding. More importantly, it was an arranged marriage. And not because you were both wealthy and needed to be wedded to get the inheritance under some arbitrary contract rule or because it was your grandmother’s dying wish. No. You live a much more mundane, normal life than the dramas, movies and books.

It was your mom who threw a fuss. She was scared you’d be alone and unmarried, an old maid like your aunt — you didn’t say it, she just heavily implied it. But following her practically senile meltdown, you agreed. Partly to appease her worries and partly just out of curiosity.

You always wanted to get married. And deep down, you always wanted your own kids. But at the rate you were going, you had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to meet someone on your own.

What you didn’t expect on that blind date was for the other person to be Kim Seokjin, third grade teacher. Down the hall from you at the school. Someone across the room every lunchtime. Your dads were apparently long time colleagues, but Jin was still as equally shocked as you were during that first meeting. Yet, he easily agreed to getting married when you brought it up. Even when it was only after two months of occasionally seeing one another outside of your workplaces.

You still don’t know why he said yes.

“Ms. L/N!”

You’re torn out of your trance by a little girl at your knees. 

She pouts. “Jennie won’t let me play on the slide!”

“Did you ask her to share?”

“Yes!”

Before any more can be said, she drags you over and Seokjin trails after you. There’s another girl with brown braided hair climbing on the slide, and she swivels her head over as the two of you approach, eyes the size of saucers. 

“Are you taking turns, Jennie?” you ask her, and she vigorously nods.

“I am!”

“Well, you’ve been on it for a while. How about Lisa takes a turn next.”

“Okay,” she draws out and gets off of the slide before turning to her friend. “Here you go.”

It’s always little problems you have to solve — from sharing to knee scrapes and monkey bar accidents. Sometimes it’s difficult for the children to compromise, difficult for them to apologize and difficult for you to find a good solution. But you undoubtedly wish your own issues were this simple.

While you’re stuck in your thoughts, you miss Jin watching you fondly. 

“You’re good with kids,” he says as you move out of the way of running children and walk back to the perimeter.

“I wouldn’t be doing this job if I wasn’t. But I deal with older kids much better.” There’s a reason you teach fifth graders and not any lower than that. Seokjin knows it too.

“Remember when we had to supervise that kindergarten class together?”

You shudder. “It was a nightmare.”

“You weren’t that bad,” he tries to say but then laughs. You feign a glare, and he adds on, “Okay. I’m sorry, but I still mean it. It’s not as terrible as you thought. You’d make a good mom.” 

At that, your glare vanishes in favour of furrowing brows. You really shouldn’t, but you can’t help it when curiosity pries — so you break your own rule against discussing private matters at work. 

“Do you want my kids?”

Seokjin is wide-eyed and he turns to you. “Why not? We’re married.”

“Yeah….but…”

“But? Do you not want kids?” 

“No! I definitely want them,” you declare, almost a bit too boldly. He nods and you explain, “It’s just...I don’t know if you’re serious.”

Seokjin blinks. “I’m being perfectly serious.”

“I mean I don’t know if we’re serious.” You add, “Enough to have kids.”

“What’s more serious than being married?” Jin has a genuinely inquisitive and amused expression, head quirked to the side. 

You inhale a sharp breath and his gaze coaxes you to go on, so you do. “It’s just that you agreed so quickly to be married to me. It doesn’t….feel real. I don’t know if you wanted to marry me, if you did it on a whim, if this is some kind of joke—”

He frowns. “This isn’t a joke, Y/N. I wanted to marry you.”

Your mouth hangs open. Your eyes are rounded.

“Wh—”

“Mrs. L/N!” You’re interrupted by your fifth-grader, Park Jimin. He sprints to you, huffing and puffing, before leaning his hands onto his knees to catch his breath. “Have you seen Taehyung?! We’re playing tag!”

“No, I haven’t.”

Jin suddenly points to the left. “He went that way.”

Jimin books it.

Silence fills the spaces between you and Seokjin again, but it isn’t like normal. It’s filled with unanswered questions and the suspenseful cliffhanger of an unfinished conversation. The laughter of kids on the playground and field resound around you, but for the first time, you don’t listen to it. 

It fades into the background as you turn to Seokjin, wanting to know more. “What did you just say?”

The man smiles softly. “You have to know.”

“I don’t,” you assert. “So tell me.”

“I’ve always liked you.”

You blink and he continues, “Since you substituted for the art teacher and I saw you squirt red paint all over yourself. It’s something I couldn’t forget. Plus, the way you draw those stick people.” Seokjin laughs heartily and you’re trapped in your spot, unsure of how to react or what to say. He reads your expression and softens. “Did you really think I would rush into a marriage if I didn’t have feelings for you?”

“I…” Your mouth is agape. “I don’t know. Why did we never talk about this?”

Seokjin shrugs. “You never asked and I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t feel the same way. I knew you married me for convenience.”

“That’s not true,” you retort within a beat. This whole time, you thought he married you for convenience sake. But it wasn’t entirely like that for you.

Seokjin’s eyes are big and you swallow down your embarrassment. “Isn’t it obvious every single breathing person loves you? It’s hard not to.”

Slowly but surely, a grin spreads into Seokjin’s puffy cheeks and he’s smiling from ear to ear again. “Well, you’re very good at hiding it then.”

Suddenly, the bell rings.

All the children reluctantly climb off the equipment, some dusting their hands while others grabbing their friends, and they rush into their lineups. There’s a few stranglers lugging their legs while groaning. But busy in their small playground worlds, no one turns around to notice you leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to Seokjin’s mouth. It’s shy and brief, like the first peck exchanged between two for the first time. And you pull away just as fast, lips left tingling.

“We can continue this later, Mr. Kim.”

You stride off while Seokjin’s left smiling. After a breathless moment, he chases after you like children who have just made promises of their first love on the playground.

[melancholysway]

TMNT Requests STEPS & RULES!

To make sure all your needs are met, here is a guide for submitting a request!

P.S, If you would like to add me on IG or something, just ask! I will more than likely say yes & give you my @ unless you’re like younger than 19. My ig page is definitely not for the youngins LMAO

STEPS!

First say hello, I will say hi back❤️

Let me know which version of the TMNT you would like! If you enjoyed Guide to Being Their S/O & Friend, request it as a “Free-for-All!” If not, just specify which version :) if you do not specify, I will assume it’s a Free-for-All, meaning that if you requested a long-shot it’ll become a short-shot.

If you would like pronouns specific for you, let me know :) Almost all of my writing includes a gender neutral reader! I try not to use pronouns like she he or they, so those that go by either of those can read as they normally would :) If you’re unsure, leave it to me and I’ll write the request where there are no pronouns of the reader mentioned.

Specify if you would like a “Short-Shot” or a “Long-Shot”

- Short-Shot: a basic list of how each turtle would pertain to the requested headcanon or imagine, an example would be the Guide to Being their S/O &/or Friend headcanons!

- Long-Shot: a short, basic list of how each turtle would pertain to the requested headcanon or imagine, INCLUDING a small one shot (typically around 4 pages on Google Docs or 800-1,200 words long) for each turtle! An example would be the Stressed Out S/O headcanons!

I separated these because I know some people like a short, quick read while others like a longer one that they can take some time to indulge in.

5. Tell me the headcanon/imagine you would like! I’m open for anything, however I would rather not try anything that I may have to put a Trigger Warning for. I’m not comfortable writing for a su*cidal reader or anything of that nature.

6. Send! It’s that easy! I will take some time to do it depending on the time you message me, I usually have free time during the week but this will change once my spring semester in college begins in January. I write little by little throughout the week when I can, but expect it to take around 4 week minimum - 8 week maximum.

NOTICE: if you simply request without mentioning any of the above criteria, your request will be fulfilled by whatever way I feel like writing it. If I find it to be really interesting, you may get a long shot! But it’ll usually just be a short shot.

RULES!

No NSFW (For now.) I’m working on making a new blog that’s exclusive to NSFW content for the turtles! (Donnie’s Pop-Tart After Dark) im waiting to see how the requests do on here, and if people would like to request NSFW headcanons or imagines, I’ll be doing them on the After Dark blog.

Make sure your request isn’t something that’s already been written by me! A master list will be coming soon and will be included at the bottom of this thread when it’s finished.

If you would like a Free-for-All, it CANNOT also be a Long-Shot!

You do NOT need to tip me for a request, I work for free yall

HOWEVER, if you would like to tip, BY ALL MEANS GO AHEAD IT CAN GO TO MY GAS MONEY

Please don’t spam me about when your request will be done. Good things take time. Working part-time & going to college full-time makes my life 27371727 times more busy, but I am taking the time to write a great fic for you! I’m also a shitty texter so I probably won’t even answer regardless LMAO

⭐️If you submit a request while my box is closed, I will kindly let you know they’re closed, and let you know when they’re back open again for you to fulfill your request. Always check my bio, like I said I’m a shitty texter so I might forget to let you know LMAO

⭐️if I don’t get to your request, it may be because I wasn’t able to write a sufficient amount due to the nature of the request. The more detailed you are in what you want, the easier it is for me to write it & fulfill your needs

⭐️I JUST FOUND OUT WHAT A TAG LIST IS. If you would like to be added to my tag list, message me and I’ll add you! I’ll only be tagging you guys on the imagines/headcanons/fics, not any of my TMNT shenanigans where I treat tumblr like my own personal Twitter for the turtles LMAO

⭐️”Melancholy, my request hasnt been fulfilled, it’s been months! Why?!

One of the many reasons why:

1) I did not find any inspiration to write it. As in: I genuinely took the time to try and write something, but did not succeed [note: there is a much higher chance of your request being unfulfilled if you want it to be a long-shot, be specific and follow the steps for the long-shot especially!]

2) You mentioned a different fandom I know nothing about to try and crossover (ex; reader being a wizard from HP or something) sadly I don’t do crossovers. Strictly TMNT only!

2) Your request was extremely vague- I tried to write something, but it didn’t click with me.

3) It includes sensitive topics like self-h*rm, s*icide, d*ath, ED, etc.

4) (for my After Dark blog) you requested TCest or a smut with two or more turtles & the reader. We do NOT do that around here bro LMAO

5) (for my After Dark blog) you requested for the turtle(s) of your choice to be younger, as you may be a minor. I will only write for the OLDER turtles (2007, bay, you get the idea.)