#emoji drabble

[edgessunflower]

Send me an emoji and I'll write a drabble

💗 - Love at first sight

🍳 - Cooking together

🎨 - Getting a tattoo

🍎 - Sharing food together

🥺 - First time

🌻 - Emotional honesty

🥹 - Breaking down

🫀 - Feeling one's heartbeat

👥 - Meet cute

😭 - Confronting a biological parent

😔 - Taking a hit for the other

🫢- Slip up

🫧- Taking a bubble bath together

📸 - Polaroid pictures

🧸 - Watching one with their younger siblings, nieces/nephews, or cousins

🪭 - Learning the other's cultural customs and traditions

🐞 - Picnic outside

🎹 - Watching the other play an instrument

🍼 - Finding out one's pregnant

💒 - Wedding

📷 - Recreating photos from back in the day

🗺️ - Traveling across the state together

🍂 - Wearing sweaters after fall starts

🐣 - One watching the other be a parental figure to their child from a previous relationship

🌸 - Gardening together

🍁 - Doing fall traditions together

🪡 - Sewing the other's clothes

👕 - Catching the other wearing one's shirt

🎃 - Watching horror movies

🤭 - Flirting in front of everyone without them knowing

👊 - Helping and teaching the other self defense after an incident

🩹 - Helping heal old wounds

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

yuuta gets so flustered whenever you sit on his lap – he just doesn't know what to do with himself:((((

you're laughing alongside with maki and nobara, your back to your boyfriend; your hips glued to yuuta's and the poor boy feels like he's on fire. he's trying so hard to focus on anything other than your ass right on top of his cock but it's simply impossible. it's taking him everything to keep listening to the conversation between yuuji and megumi; his eyes trained over your shoulders, on the way your lips stretch wider and wider with every word that tumbles from nobara's mouth. yuuta's glad you're having fun.

but he wishes he was having fun, too. how could he be if he's a breath away from popping the fattest boner right in front of his friends? a deep blush settles across his nose and his cheeks and he just hopes that the other's won't notice.

his impatient fingers dig into your waist and you immediately turn to him with wide eyes, making yuuta regret his decision to do so. you ask him whether he's okay, whether he wants anything and he feels like a proper pervert – you're just trying to make sure he's enjoying himself while he's here, thinking about how wet and warm and tight you'd feel around his aching cock.

shivers run up his back when your hand finds the back of his neck, fingers twirling in the dark strands of hair as you quip a sweet little 'hm?' at him. yuuta lets his eyes close in a desperate try to get his shit together. puppies, kittens, flowers. he has to think about anything other than you. bed, candy, kissing. fuck, that's not–

yuuta's eyes crack open the second he feels you wriggle your hips. just once, but it's enough to send another wave of blush all over his body. and the situation only gets worse when he sees your sticky, honeyed smile. oh, you know exactly what you're doing.

swiveling your hips again, yuuta's fingers sink into your waist almost painfully, his pretty lips parted as he mouths a 'please' at you. the need pooling in his eyes makes you giggle, catching the attention of your friends again. you turn back to them with a big grin, your body melting deeper into yuuta's while continuing on with the conversation as if nothing happened. as if you can't feel how hard your boyfriend is.

an almost silent whine brushes the shell of your ear as yuuta tries to hide his face in the crook of your neck, his face heating up even more when he hears you defend him by saying that he's simply tired. he tries to get a bit more comfortable by spreading his legs but that only makes you sink lower, closer to his bulge. yuuji calls out to him and he dreads raising his head from the comfort of your skin, knowing that if the pink-haired boy doesn't notice his pained face then megumi surely will. fuck, you're killing him – still smiling wide, you wriggle your hips every time you laugh, freely torturing your sweetheart of a boyfriend.

but he can't even be mad, can he? he loves you, and he loves when you do stuff like this. he's harder than ever and feeling a little dirty for being like this; pre-cum stains his boxers while he's sitting here with his friends. he knows you'll tease him for it later, too. call him pathetic, call him cute.

he's never been more excited to go home.

[aphroditelovesu]

can you please write 🦄 for either yan!steve or yan!bucky?

❝🦄❞ - ‘’I... I really can't let you go.’’

❝tw: kidnapping and slight angst.

When Steve found you at home, well, at least he considers it your home, you were lying on the couch, reading a book of your favorite genre. The mere sight of your presence made him smile and he unconsciously moved closer to you.

"Hey, honey." He murmured as he sat down next to you on the couch, close to your feet stretched out and bare beneath the soft fabric. Steve frowned slightly when you didn't respond to him. "Honey? I'm home." He tried again, his voice firmer.

But he got no response.

Steve sighed irritably when he realized what you were doing. The punishment of silence.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, feeling his frustration growing. He knew the punishment of silence was your way of showing that something was wrong, but he couldn't understand what he could have done to deserve it.

Everything he did was for you. Always for you and would always be for you.

He leaned forward, placing his hand gently on your knee. "Honey, please tell me what's going on." He pleaded, concern evident in his voice. "I can't fix what's wrong if you don't tell me."

The book in your hands continued to be your only answer. Steve sighed again, deeper this time, and decided to try a different approach. He got up and went to the kitchen, preparing your favorite drink. Maybe, with a little patience and a gesture of affection, he could break the silence and find out what was going on.

Steve quickly returned to the living room, bringing with him a silver tray with your favorite drink and snacks. He placed it in front of him, on the coffee table. However, you refused to talk to him, or even look at him.

Had he done something wrong?

Steve tried to search his mind for anything he could have done that triggered such a reaction from him, this coldness that hurt him more than anything. He sighed when he finally realized that it may have been the sudden change in your life that caused you to become so cold towards him.

You still hadn't completely gotten used to his presence, to living with him. It had been something sudden when he brought you here, but Steve couldn't leave you alone, not when the world was becoming more and more dangerous. He couldn't even imagine what he would do if something happened to you.

Steve sat next to him again, this time closer. He gently touched your shoulder, trying to get your attention. "I know things changed too quickly." He began, his voice low and full of regret, "I brought you here thinking it would be for the best, but perhaps I didn't consider how much it would affect you."

He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words, "I just wanted to protect you, make sure you were safe. But I understand if you're feeling like you've lost your freedom, your old life. I'm sorry if I was selfish in not realizing it sooner."

Silence still hung between you, but Steve continued, determined to get through to you. "I want you to feel at home here, not like a prisoner. And if there's anything I can do to make this easier for you, please tell me. I'm here to listen."

You finally looked at him and placed the book down in your lap. Your gaze met his and you spoke, your voice loud and clear. "I want to go home. To my real home."

His gaze suddenly hardened and the grip on your shoulders tightened, becoming painful. His voice was low but you could feel the anger, the pain, in them. "No."

Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden change in his behavior. Steve had always been protective, but he had never been so authoritarian. You tried to pull your shoulders away from his grip, but he wouldn’t budge.

"Steve, you're hurting me." You mumbled, trying to keep your voice calm even as fear rose within you.

He took a deep breath, eyes softening a little, but his grip still firm. "Sorry." He murmured, slowly releasing you. "I just... I can't let you go. It's dangerous out there, and I can't risk losing you."

You rubbed your shoulders, feeling relief mixed with growing discomfort. "But I can't live like this, Steve. I need my freedom, my space. I can't be a prisoner. I can't."

He shook his head, visibly struggling with his own emotions. "It's not a prison. It's to protect you. You have to understand that."

Steve grabbed your hands and squeezed them gently, touching you as if you were made of glass, and with any wrong touch, you could fall apart. He rubbed your fingers and replied, "I... I really can't let you go."

His words were painful to hear because you knew he was telling the truth. He would never let you go.

[itsjaywalkers]

a little silly jegulus for my darling @veryinnovative !! happy birthday ino MWAH <333 (very very light nsfw)

"What the fuck did I just walk into?"

Regulus doesn't even bother to look up from where he's sitting on the floor, head between his knees as he waits for God—or whoever is up there, really, he isn't fussed—to fucking smite him. He does, however, let out a pitiful sound, both in acknowledgement and as a response. It doesn't explain much, he's aware of that, but Barty knows him enough at this point. He doesn't require anything else from him.

"Yeah, I can see you're having a bit of a breakdown," Barty huffs out, and Regulus hears his steps, light and careful, getting closer to him. "What brought it on this time, though? I literally just went to the corner shop to grab some Redbulls. It's been 15 minutes since I left and you were fine."

Regulus makes another pathetic noise, still refusing to raise his head. This one is a bit more petulant, because Barty has a talent for bringing out his pettiest side, even when he's experiencing unknown levels of distress.

"Babe, I'm gonna need you to give me something else," Barty insists, before sighing heavily. His walking comes to a halt, and Regulus doesn't need to check to know he's standing right in front of him.

He groans, but decides to be merciful, despite being aware that Barty knowing about what's upsetting him this much won't do him any favours. Barty can be a surprisingly supportive friend when it matters, but he's insufferable when he's right.

Regulus lifts his arm and points to his left, hoping he's being accurate enough, considering he isn't even looking. He keeps the position for a couple of seconds before dropping the arm back down, going back to hugging his legs tightly.

Barty begins moving once again, but stops after taking a few steps. "And what the fuck does that mean?" Barty exclaims, and Regulus can picture him throwing his hands up in the air. It almost drags a smile out of him. "You pointed at the couch. Am I supposed to believe our couch attacked you?"

Regulus exhales loudly through his nose, but doesn't deign that with a response.

"Because even if it did, Reg, I'm sorry to say you're gonna have get over yourself and your cute little breakdown. That couch cost us a fortune, and it's where Rosie first kissed me, so I refuse to—"

A sudden buzz interrupts Barty's train of thought. It makes Regulus' blood go cold, and he attempts to bury his face even deeper between his legs, a pained moan escaping his mouth as his face burns.

"What was that?" Barty mumbles, pacing around their living room. "Was it your phone? Why don't you have your phone on you?"

Regulus lets out a grumble, burrowing himself tighter in his own embrace while he listens to his best friend search for the origin of the sound.

It buzzes again, and Regulus is this close to grab the stupid device and throw it out the window, when Barty clicks his tongue, some ruffling following the noise.

"There it is," he says quietly. "Why the hell did you bury it under all the cushions? I know you're not a big fan of it, but this is simply—"

Realisation dawns on Regulus way too late, and by the time he snaps his head up, clumsily trying to get back on his feet as fast as possible but only ending up on his knees, Barty already has his phone in his hands. His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted, and he seems to be reading Regulus' notifications.

He's never regretted giving him his password as much as this instant.

"Barty, that's not—" Regulus starts, strained.

"Oh my fucking god," Barty murmurs, gaze fixated on the screen of the phone. He's not even blinking, and the stupid thing buzzes again, lighting up with a new message.

"Shut up," Regulus says, the blush on his face worsening by the second, as if it knows what's coming.

"I told you," Barty responds, still not looking away from Regulus' phone. "I fucking told you, dude—"

"Shut up!" Regulus repeats in a hiss, pushing himself up a little shakily but managing to regain his balance, not even hesitating before beginning to make his way towards his friend. "Give me my phone back!"

"No way," Barty snorts, dodging Regulus at the very last second, barely avoiding getting tackled into the couch. "This is too good, Reg, I can't believe you fucked up this badly. I would've killed myself if I were you—"

"Shut the fuck up!" Regulus snarls, cheeks aflame while he follows Barty around their apartment, attempting to get his phone back. "As if you're not completely shameless—"

"At least I've never been caught screenshotting my crush's thirst traps—"

"He's not my crush! I literally cannot stand him!"

Barty barks out a laugh, and it makes him falter enough for Regulus to get ahold of the hem of his shirt. However, his grasp is too loose, and Barty breaks away from it before Regulus can tighten it and finally take back what's rightfully his.

"Tell that to the dozen screenshots of his shirtless pics you have in your gallery."

Regulus makes an outraged sound, doubling his efforts, the heat in his face becoming almost unbearable as he chases his annoying best friend.

"That's an invasion of privacy!" he yells, grabbing one of the cushions and throwing it at Barty's head. He hits him right on the face, and it makes him feel considerably better, especially when Barty gives him his most deadpan expression. "Why are you in my gallery?"

"Well, Reg, after reading Potter's texts I got curious. I thought 'it can't be that bad, Reg is subtler than this' but it definitely can be that bad—"

"Stop! You're making such a big deal out of it, there's barely any—"

"Reg, babe, you have a folder just dedicated to James Potter's snapchats."

"It's for better organisation—"

"You must've been blowing his phone up with all those screenshots. Honestly, I don't understand how he hansn't blocked your creepy ass yet—"

"I know you aren't lecturing me about being creepy. You just aren't. Or do I have to remind you the kind of shit you pulled back when Evan wasn't giving you the time of day—"

"The joke's on you, idiot, Rosie is very much into my creepy shit," Barty retorts, stopping for a second just so he can put his hands on his hips and stare down at Regulus. "Although, I suppose Potter must like your freak behaviour too, considering how desperate he seems to be about getting you to reply. Not like I'm surprised, it's gotta be a boost to his massive ego—"

"Stop. Stop. Stop fucking talking—" Regulus lunges at him once more, but Barty is prepared every fucking time, avoiding him without breaking a sweat. "This is all your fault!"

Barty gapes at him. "How is this my fault? I warned you, dude! I told you people get notifications when you screenshot their stories—"

"Well, you didn't warn me hard enough!" Regulus schreeches, burying his hands inside his curls and pulling frantically. He feels like he's a breeze way from losing his shit. "James followed me back out of fucking nowhere, even though I was on my secret account, and then he began texting me all these things. Teasing me, making fun of me, always so fucking full of himself. And as if that weren't bad enough, then my brother also texted me just to sent me a voice note of himself laughing his ass off for two minutes—"

"I don't blame him," Barty snorts with a shake of his head. "Doesn't he live with Potter?"

"Yes. Yes, he does," Regulus mumbles, nearly hysterical. "And I really didn't need the reminder—"

"Sorry, sorry." Barty doesn't sound sorry in the slightest. "Listen, it might not be as bad as you think. Potter will get tired of you ignoring him soon, and then he'll give up and drop it, and this will just become an anecdote that we'll all laugh about in a couple of months. I mean, I'm already laughing."

Regulus stops trying to tear his hair out for a moment, narrowed eyes focusing on his best friend as he squirms in his place, shifting the weight from one foot to another. "You think so?"

"I know so," Barty assures him, and his confidence is somehow relieving, even though Regulus knows better than to trust anything that comes out of his big mouth. "You can finish having you breakdown, if you want, but you have nothing to—"

Another buzz cuts Barty off. The noise makes Regulus tense up almost unconsciously, because after today, he doesn't think he'll be able to listen to the bloody sound without having a heart attack. His shoulders relax slightly a second later, before going stiff once more when the buzzing doesn't stop.

"Oh," Barty whispers, eloquently. "Someone's calling."

"Don't—"

"Potter is calling."

"Fuck," Regulus says, with feeling. "Fuck."

"Yeaaaah," Barty drawls, gaze jumping from the vibrating phone in his hand to Regulus' panicked face. He's wearing that irritating shit-eating grin of his. "Forget what I said. I was lying anyway. You're fucked, dude."

"Shut your fucking mouth and hang up," Regulus snaps, heart beating so violently he can feel it in his fucking throat.

Barty tilts his head to the side, considering. Regulus gives him a warning look, getting mildly sick at the way in which Barty's smirk only appears to spread even wider. "Where's the fun in that, though?"

Regulus feels himself go pale, bile climbing up his throat. He swallows it back down with some struggle, his insides burning.

"You wouldn't," he mumbles, his phone still ringing.

"Wouldn't I?" Barty questions, arching in an eyebrow.

"Barty—"

His best friend is picking up the phone even before Regulus has finished uttering his name. Barty presses the device next to his ear a second later, and there's an almost manic quality to his grin.

"Hey, Potter," he greets, voice filled with glee. Regulus almost screams. "Yeah, yeah, he's here, why?"

Regulus shakes his head furiously, hands moving widely and forming cross after cross, despite Barty ignoring every single one of his signs. His best friend starts walking towards him, and Regulus retreats hastily until his back meets the wall.

"Oh, you wanna speak to him?" Barty is saying into the phone, gaze never leaving Regulus. "And it's urgent? Hm."

Please, Regulus says inaudibly, the perfect picture of desperation.

There's a pause, and for a brief moment, Regulus thinks Barty is about to take pity on him. Put an end to the joke before it ruins what's left of Regulus' dignity.

But Barty is Barty, and considering he seems to feed on Regulus' misery, he ends up smiling big, showing all of his teeth, before he gives James another affirmative reply and then he's handing the phone to Regulus.

He's convinced that Barty has never spoken this politely to James, but Regulus supposes that Barty is more than willing to put his hatred aside when the goal is to take the piss out of him.

Regulus clutches the phone and slowly, his hand shaking, he presses it to his ear. He doesn't say anything, but he lets out a shuddery exhale.

"Regulus?" James murmurs at the other side of the line, and the sound of his voice is nearly enough for him to drop the phone.

"Yeah?" he responds after a beat, the word coming out surprisingly calm.

"Finally done ignoring me?" James questions, and Regulus closes his eyes tight, turning away from Barty's figure. If he has to keep staring at him poorly repressing his laughter, he'll end up murdering him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Regulus sniffs.

"Oh, don't you?" James chuckles, amused, and Regulus hates the havoc that that mere noise wrecks inside his guts. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, love. I'm very flattered, you know?"

"I bet you are," Regulus bites back, glaring at nowhere in particular. "It really isn't what you think—"

"No? You haven't been taking screenshots of all my shirtless pics?"

"Not all of them were shirtless pics," Regulus complains weakly.

James laughs again, louder this time, and it fill his chest with warmth. "True. I think there was a couple of selfies, too."

"And that one pic with your little cousin," Regulus adds, because he hates himself, apparently.

Barty's cackles turn unbearable, and Regulus' fingers twitch around his phone. He's making a run for his room a second later, slamming the door right behind him, even though the walls are so thin he can still hear the faint sound of his best friend's laughter.

"Ah, yes," James hums, seemingly deep in thought. "That one threw me off a little."

"How so?"

"You see, I assumed you were just collecting wanking material—"

"James!" Regulus hisses through gritted teeth, so ridiculously flustered he feels mildy dizzy. "Don't be disgusting!"

"Nothing wrong with that," James rushes to say, and Regulus hates how sincere he sounds. How pleased.

"Really? You wouldn't find it weird? Knowing that I—that someone has masturbated to your pictures?"

"Well, have you?"

"You wish."

"I do," James retorts without missing a beat, always so shameless. "It'd make me feel better about all the times I've jerked off to the thought of you."

Regulus sits down on the edge of his bed, knees failing him and ears ringing. He swears he can feel his soul leaving his body.

"What?" he says, voice embarrasingly high-pitched.

"What?" James repeats it with a laugh, as if this is all very amusing to him. "Say, love, what are you wearing right now?"

Regulus pulls his phone away from his ear momentarily, blinking at the screen. The call is real, and still ongoing, even though Regulus is certain he must be imagining this whole conversation, because there's simply no way.

"No," he retorts robotically as soon as the phone is back against his ear.

"No?" James inquires, some hesitance slipping into his tone.

"We're not doing this," Regulus insists.

"And what's 'this', hmm?"

"You know what! I don't know what game you're playing, Potter, but I want no part in it."

"There's no game, love. I mean this."

"No, you don't."

"No offence, Reg, but I think I know what I want better than you do."

Regulus laughs, but it's nervous, and shaky, and forced. "And what do you want?" he asks, trying his best to sound as mocking as possible. Regulus isn't sure he does a good job. "Me?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I want you so bad it's actually driving me insane."

Regulus lets out a choked off noise, and the urge to throw his phone against the wall is so strong he has no idea of how he manages to supress it.

There's a moment of silence, and then, "Regulus," James calls him again, and he straightens up as a reflex. "What are you wearing right now?"

Regulus rolls his lower lip between his teeth, pressing his thighs together. "Just some shorts and one of Barty's shirts."

There's a sharp inhale of breath.

"I hate that," James grumbles, and Regulus can feel himself frown.

"Well, I'm sorry it's not anything sexy, but I wasn't expecting—"

"No, no, it's not that, love, you look gorgeous in everything."

Regulus puts the back of his hand over his mouth, despite the fact that there's no one to see his smile.

"Then?" he questions.

"I just—you're wearing his clothes."

"Who's? Barty's?" Regulus blinks a couple of times. "Yes, of course, he's my friend—"

"Just that? Just your friend?"

"Why, Potter? Are you jealous?"

"Reg—"

"Yeah, James," Regulus sighs, probably sounding more pleased than he should. "He's just a friend."

"Good. Good."

"You know, this talk isn't really turning me on."

James chuckles softly, and Regulus' cheeks hurt from how big he's smiling.

"Aw, man, really?" he whines, almost making Regulus laugh. "That's such a shame. I've been half-hard since we started talking."

"James!" Regulus scolds him, but it probably doesn't have the desired effect, considering his grin is basically audible.

"I'm serious!" he laughs, and Regulus shakes his head, leaning back until his back touches the bed. "It's not my fault your cock is so fussy—"

"Don't have a cock," Regulus answers without thinking.

James falls silent, and Regulus is about to take it back, laugh it off or even hang up without an explanation, but then James is speaking up again.

"A cunt, then," James says, and he sounds okay, casual, even if a little stiff. "Is that—are you comfortable with that word, or...?"

"Yeah," Regulus tells him softly, almost in a sigh. "I don't really mind that much, I just—I didn't want you to think—"

"It's completely fine, love. Really. Doesn't make any difference to me. And I know I shouldn't have assumed—"

"You're fine, James," Regulus reassures him, endlessly endeared by this ridiculous man.

"I'm glad, because I genuinely want to do this," James says quietly, like it's a secret. A confession only meant for Regulus' ears.

"And what's 'this'? Phone sex?"

"That, and a date."

Regulus stops breating. "A date?"

"A date," James affirms. "More than one, hopefully, but I'm trying not to push my luck."

"Aren't you doing this a bit backwards? Considering you're already attempting to get in my pants."

"Maybe. But I'm very impatient, and I've been waiting for this a while, love."

Regulus goes silent, pretending to think it over. James' tension is palpable even through the phone, and he delights a little in making him squirm for once.

"Okay," he ends up saying, hoping his enthusiasm isn't too obvious.

"Okay?" James repeats dumbly.

"Okay, I'll go on a date with you."

"Shit, really?" James sounds so excited it drags a giggle out of Regulus. "That's—fucking amazing, we're gonna have so much fun, Reg—"

"And about that phone sex," he goes on, casting a glance at his closed door, "you can call me again tonight, and then we'll see.

James' breath hitches on the other side of the line, and Regulus presses his legs even closer together. He hasn't felt this giddy in quite a long time.

Horny, too, but he thinks the wait will be more than worth it.

"Yeah?" James exhales.

"Yeah."

Regulus is already counting down the minutes.

[grimmweepers]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ 𝓻𝔂𝓾𝓱𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓶

there was an ache in my heart when i awoke in a strange, beautiful world that wasn’t my own. even as months turned to years, i still missed the familiar skies, the voice of loved ones and the home i had left behind. i wrote letters that went nowhere and whispered silent prayers that reached no one. it was like i was plucked from my own reality and placed in a world where i didn’t quite belong.

yet, as much as i longed for home, i was determined to learn in this new life. sumeru became my sanctuary and the akademiya, my solace. i learned their languages, customs, and secrets while sharing stories of the stars, landmarks, and beauty of my own world. the scholars listened, fascinated by the similarities and differences, but none more than al-haitham—a student assigned to guide me through this foreign land. he was a quiet presence. thoughtful and curious. he did not pity me.

and over time, he went from guide to peer to something more. over time, i wasn’t just seeking knowledge but also him. but what was the point? what was the point of falling for him if one day, i could just disappear—vanish back to my world, leaving him and teyvat behind? this could slip away at any moment. this might be as fleeting as a dream.

despite all reason, i still found myself loving him deeply. in a world that wasn’t my own, he had become my home.

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬: very slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐒: 22.10.22 | playlist | genshinverse ryu

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐒: modern au | season of love

[fortune-maiden]

FX Week Day 6: Temple

Day 6 of @fxweek :D

This is actually the very last drabble I wrote chronologically (assuming I don't write any more lol)

In Feng Xin’s humble opinion, it wasn’t fair that the things he should have been smug about were the things he hated the most. “Thank goodness for the Ju Yang temple. There’s always one of those around when we need ‘em,” Mu Qing cackled, leading them to their lodgings for the night. Of course he had a temple in this area – why wouldn’t there be a temple to the fucking fertility god in the middle of someone else’s fucking territory and – “Wait.” Feng Xin suddenly realized something. “Why do you always know where my temples are?” Mu Qing went silent.

[love-note-musings]

For the Emoji drabble!

🏹 + Leviathan ??

Have a good day! ^^

╰₊✧ ﾟ⚬𓂂➢ Obey Me! Leviathan x Reader

from this emoji prompt list: 🏹 | waking up from a nightmare

✩₊˚.⋆please ignore that this literally was sitting in my drafts for literal years lmao☾⋆⁺₊✧

Envy does as envy knows best. It festers, becomes symptomatic, viral, and infectious. Left untreated, it can leave a nasty scar where there’s supposed to be something tender. And Levi, out of all people, knows this the best. He’s the most infected out of them all.

He couldn’t escape the sensation that he was the worst choice for you even during sleep. The idea that you had merely settled for him out of pity clung onto him like a leech, regardless of the assurances you offered him. Levi knew that constantly reaffirming him was tiring, he knew that it was annoying, but he couldn’t shake this lurching feeling off of him.

Dreams lived to affirm his fears. He could have forgiven you for cheating, why wouldn’t you? He could have forgiven you for falling out of love, for choosing someone else—in fact, he expected it. Out of everything, he could have forgiven you for almost everything you could throw his way if it meant he could stay by your side a little while longer. So, while the amalgamation of his fears constructed itself in front of him, Levi had already forgiven you.

There was a red tint on your face as your brows furrowed, eyes barreling down onto his figure. Hurling insult after insult all the while yelling at the top of your lungs, Levi could only look up at you as if you were a god, listening as you affirmed all of the negative thoughts he had about himself. If you out of all people could see it, then it must be true, right? When he could see how happy and joyful you looked with others, he couldn’t help but compare the smile you gave to him versus the one you gave to your friends.

Levi didn’t notice that he had woken up with tears staining the corners of his eyes, or how they dripped down off his cheek and onto the pillow beneath his head. All he could feel was the gapping feeling inside his chest and the way his lungs stung. He didn’t notice that he was heaving until you placed your hand on his chest.

“Shh, I got you,” you assured while sitting him up on your bed. using your thumb you wiped off some of the tears flooding his face and pulled him close.

He was hesitant even as he felt your arms holding him. Slowly, he crumbled into your embrace, resting his head against your chest so he could feel your heartbeat. His arms shakily held onto you while he hid his tear stained face. You offered him such comfort and softness even when his own subconscious gave him none.

“What kind of nightmare has gotten you so sad, dear?”

Levi found it hard to explain to you something so otherworldly, something so contrary to your demeanor. A nightmare - because that’s all it was. And because you weren’t the amalgamation he constructed in his mind. You weren’t some cruel human who would pluck at his heartstrings and drag them along like a dog on the leash. This was the real you. Your arms were warm, your gaze was soft. In the moment, it felt silly to even imagine you as some sort of poised bully.

Yet, that image always came back as some sort of lurking insecurity. You had certainly done nothing to give him such vivid fears. More importantly, how could he explain this to you all in the dead of night?

"Can you just. . I mean, we can talk about it later. Can you just hold me, like this, for now?" Levi managed to stutter out while he willed to calm his beating heart.

All you did was smile at him. "Yeah, of course, Levi. You want me to put on a show for background noise while you go back to sleep?"

"Sounds good." He answered, more than content to stay right here with you.

Neither of you even seemed to notice that most of your blankets and pillows had already been kicked off the bed.

[edgessunflower]

Send me an emoji and I'll write you a drabble

⛄️  ─  build a snowman

❄️  ─  have a snowball fight

👼  ─  make snow angels

⛸  ─  go ice skating

🍪  ─  have some hot cocoa and cookies

🔥  ─  have dinner by the fire

🥧   ─  bake something together

🛖   ─  take a cabin getaway 

🌲   ─  go on a walk through the woods

📚   ─  have a coffeeshop & bookstore date

💤   ─  have a pajama day

🕯   ─  have a “no electricity” date night

⛺️   ─  build a blanket fort

💍 ─ to a wedding

🥵  ─ to join them in the sauna

👻 ─ to visit a haunted house

🎃 ─ to go trick or treating

🍎 ─ to go fruit picking

📷 ─ to be their model as they practice their photographing skills

🐶 ─ to visit an animal shelter with them

☔️ ─ to dance in the rain

���� ─ for breakfast at their place

🥧 ─ to cook/bake together

🍽 ─ for dinner at their place

🛏 ─ to spend the night at their place

👥 ─ to meet their parents/family

🎄 ─ to come over for Christmas

🍼 ─ to come over and help them babysitting

🏠 ─ to move in together

🍿 ─ to go to the movies

🛍 ─ to go shopping together

📚 ─ to go to the library

🎵 ─ to go to a music concert together

🍸 ─ for a drink

🎨 ─ to paint something together

🎤 ─ to sing together at a karaoke

🎮 ─ to play videogames at their place

✈️ ─ to travel together

🎡 ─ to spend the day at an amusement park

🏖 ─ to spend the day at the beach

🥾 ─ to go camping together

🖤 ─ to accompany them to a loved one’s funeral

🃏 ─ wildcard !  choose your own destination/activity !

[darkkitty1208]

☕☀️🥰

fanfic drabble emoji game: the comeback

Stephen watches the street outside his kitchen window, slowly stirring the spoon in his teacup. He hears soft footsteps approaching him from behind, and can't help a small smile.

He hears a whine as Tony wraps his arms around his waist, hooking his chin over Stephen’s shoulder.

“You left me,” he mumbles, yawning. Stephen chuckles, placing his cup on the counter and turning around to face him. 

He notices Tony wearing a certain Columbia hoodie. 

“And you stole my hoodie,” he accuses, lips tilted upwards despitefully. 

“Found it in your closet. Mine now.”

Stephen shakes his head, but laughs fondly. 

[aphroditelovesu]

[🖤] - ''I don't want to force you to be mine, but I will if I have to.’’ + 💔] - ‘’You can't leave me. You will not leave me.’’ For Rhaenyra Drabble after her wife (reader) who while normally happy in their marriage starts to get tired and starts talking back to her after Rhaenyra basically imprisons the reader because she was paranoid about reader cheating on her?

[🖤] - ''I don't want to force you to be mine, but I will if I have to.’’

[💔] - ‘’You can't leave me. You will not leave me.’’

❝ 🐉 — lady l: this ended up becoming more than a drabble but I got carried away... I hope you like it, anon, and forgive me for any mistakes! Good reading! ❤️

❝tw: accusation of betrayal, mention of death, mourning, imprisonment and angst.

❝🐉pairing: yandere!rhaenyra targaryen x female!reader.

❝word count: 1,143.

You felt like a damn prisoner and maybe you really were.

Rhaenyra has become increasingly unstable and possessive over you and she has practically imprisoned you in her room, with only a few servants having access to you.

The reason for all this? She thought you were cheating on her, which was completely ridiculous. You weren't cheating on her and it never crossed your mind to do so.

You valued your life and loved Rhaenyra too much to even think about having a lover. You love her, don't you? You were sure you did it but after she locked you in, you weren't so sure anymore.

''I don't want to force you to be mine, but I will if have to.'' Her words still echoed in your mind and you only realized their weight when she finally lost her head after you spoke against her. The memories of that night were painful and you could still feel Rhaenyra's touch on your skin like fire.

Trapped in that golden cage, you stared at the richly decorated walls of her room, feeling increasingly suffocated. It was a luxury that became a prison, and every exquisite detail now seemed a cruel reminder of her situation.

The days passed slowly, with the routine of servants coming and going, bringing meals and clean clothes. They never exchanged more than a few words with you, and their expressions were always neutral. You wondered if they knew about your suspicions or if they simply followed orders blindly without question.

Rhaenyra visited you often, but your conversations were tense. You could see the paranoia in her eyes, a dark shadow that seemed to grow with each encounter. She asked questions, sometimes calmly and sometimes desperately, trying to get a confession out of you that wasn't there. Each denial from you seemed to fuel even more suspicion in her.

During these visits, you tried to calm her fears, reaffirming your love and fidelity, but your words seemed to lose strength with each repetition. Uncertainty grew inside you, not only about your feelings for her, but also about the future of this relationship that previously seemed so solid.

There were moments of silence, where you just looked at each other, lost in your own thoughts. At those times, you wondered what had happened to the woman you loved, the one who was strong, confident and fair. Now, she was a shadow of her former self, consumed by an irrational fear that was destroying her and you along with it.

You knew that Lucerys' death and the start of the war had affected her even more and you understood. You really did and you couldn't blame you for that. Although you didn't have children of your own, you loved hers as if they were your own and you were also grieving the loss of Luke but nothing justified Rhaenyra's accusations and her actions towards you. You knew it all came from her fear of losing you but that didn't make it any less painful.

The loss of Lucerys was a devastating blow to everyone. Rhaenyra has never been the same since that day. You clearly remembered the moment the news arrived. Her scream of pain still echoed in your mind, and you had felt a deep sadness as you watched the woman you loved fall apart. You tried to be as supportive as possible, to be by her side in every moment of pain, but it was as if an invisible barrier had risen between you.

Rhaenyra had become increasingly vigilant and suspicious. At first, you thought it was just grief manifesting itself in unexpected ways, but as time passed, her obsession grew. She began to question every one of your actions, every word spoken and even the moments of silence. At first, you responded with patience, believing that she would eventually get over it. However, her accusations became more frequent and fierce, culminating in your forced imprisonment.

You tried to justify her behavior to yourself. The coming war, the loss of her son, the constant pressure of claiming the throne and keeping the family together... It was all a crushing burden. And yet, in your most lucid moments, you knew you didn't deserve to be treated this way. Your love and loyalty were never in question. Rhaenyra's fear of losing someone else close to her was understandable, but it could not be a reason to imprison.

When Rhaenyra came to visit you, you decided you had had enough. You needed to make her see reason.

She entered the room, as always, with an expression full of distrust and pain. Her eyes, once so full of life, were now opaque, marked by sadness and fear. She approached you, her steps heavy and her gaze fixed on your eyes, as if she was looking for some confirmation of her fears. And when she noticed something in your gaze, perhaps the determination to get out of this situation, her face became furious and you could see her lips trembling.

''Rhaenyra, I never wanted to leave you. I never wanted to hurt you.'' You said, desperation evident in every word.

You took a deep breath, feeling the pain of the situation that was becoming increasingly untenable. Rhaenyra was mired in her own insecurities, and you knew you needed to break that cycle of fear and distrust. ''Rhaenyra, I love you. You need trust me. We are losing something precious in all of this.''

She remained silent, her eyes fixed on yours, as if she was trying to find something in your gaze that could ease her pain. There was a heavy silence, full of unspoken emotions, promises and fears.

You continued, your voice firmer, trying to reach the woman you loved. ''I'm not cheating on you. I will not leave you. We need to find a way to get through this together, before we completely destroy ourselves.''

The minutes passed, and the silence between you was deafening. Rhaenyra seemed to be fighting her own demons, insecurity and fear intertwining in her mind. You knew it was a crucial moment, an opportunity to salvage what was left of your relationship.

Finally, her voice breaking, she whispered, ''You can't leave me. You will not leave me.''

Your heart sank at her words. Rhaenyra was in shambles, and you knew you needed to act carefully, with love and patience. In a calm, low voice, you spoke, ''I am here, Rhaenyra. Let's find a way out of this together. I promise.''

There was a small spark of hope in her eyes, a spark that maybe, just maybe, could be the basis for rebuilding what had been lost. You approached her, reaching out your hand, trying to reach that piece of hope that still shined amidst the darkness.

Perhaps you could bring reason back to Rhaenyra.

[evertidings]

B and an apology note?

cw: self-hatred, hints to depression — definitely among one of the most painful bits i've written. please be cautious if you have self-esteem issues and/or struggle with self-image.

[surname] [name],

i'm sorry for being such a dick. i'm sorry for hating you when i had nothing to hate you for. i'm sorry. i know you think that's probably hard for me to say, but it's hardest knowing that i've only said it to you now.

you deserve a thousand more apologies than this one. it's shitty—you don't have to tell me. i've never been good at saying sorry. maybe because the person i've wanted to hear sorry from most never said it to me. i wish i knew how. it's not as easy as just saying the words. you have to mean them for it to be worth something. and i'm not saying i don't mean them, but they seem shallow compared to the infinite insults i've said to you.

i'm sorry.

it'd probably be better if i said this in person. i'm a coward, you already know that. i don't expect you to ever forgive me. i hope you don't, actually. i don't deserve it. and if you do somehow forgive me, you're more of a saint than i know you already are. it's part of why i hated you so much.

i don't

this is so fucking hard. tell me why it's so fucking hard. how the fuck can you even look at me after all i've done? i can barely look at myself. how do you not hate me for just breathing? how can you even stand to be in the same fucking room as me?

tell me why you're so much of a better person than i am. tell me why i spent so much of my career hating you when it should've been me. why why why why why wh

[phoxphenex]

I LOVE YOUR FAKE TEXTSSSS!! :’))) can i request a johnny fwb texts?

johnny fwb texts

[steddiemicrofic]

happy spooky bitch season babiesss 🎃🦇🪄🔮✨ get horny and weird ready because the microfic October prompt is:

🧛 suck | 480 words 🩸

y’all know the drill: gimme your kas!eddies, your sucker punches, your dick suckers, thumbsuckers, people who just plain suck, suck it up buttercups, etc etc etc.

interpret it however you like, make it steddie, and verify your word count on wordcounter.net before you submit. mods will comment a 🥧 emoji on your post once it’s added to the reblog queue.

[rainylana]

😺⛈️🥛

send three emojies, get a drabble inspired by it!<3

“no, eddie.” wayne shook his head, not even had his first sip of coffee yet. “no more strays.”

“but unca’ wayne!” six year old eddie begged, holding the stray, wild looking kitten in his mosquito bitten arms. “he’s sooooo cute! i gon’ name em’ theodore!”

wayne rubbed his beard, looking at the kitten in eddie’s arms, the bowl of milk on the counter as he tried to gently guide it to drink. “we’ve got too many as is, buddy. we don’t got enough to feed em’, now.”

“please!” eddie whined, his curly, thick hair tickling the back of his neck. “i’ll take care of it unca’ wayne!”

he never could say no to his nephew. “alright. just one more.”

[siribear]

her party is still just as chatty on the way back to base camp from the shrine of dumat. varric, dorian, and bull keep themselves entertained well enough without her input.

which works just fine for her - she's sore down to her bones. it wasn't enough that she was singled out and carried deeper into the red templar encampment via a charging templar brute. no - she absent-mindedly rubs at her neck - carol smited her and would have drowned her if not for her mark.

she could have saved herself with blood magic. but it's already the reason why she's lost the trust of most of her companions. the ones with her are all she has left of those who trust her.

even cullen, paces ahead of her, has barely spoken to her even while going after samson. but she deserves it. she lied to him.

annwn.

a chill runs down her spine.

'did you need something?' she asks, turning in her saddle to face varric.

he looks away from laughing at a joke. 'didn't say anything, cousin.' and neither did the others. she doubts cullen said anything. he doesn't address her as anything less than inquisitor, now.

just the wind, then? or she's hallucinating. but she could have sworn -

help me.

this time, a child's voice, low and scared.

again, it seems no one noticed.

the same shiver washes over her as they pass by a large, empty mansion. the first time they came through it gave her an uneasy feeling, but she wasn't hearing voices then.

without a word, she directs her horse toward the mansion. the air beyond the gates hold a chill despite the bright sun shining overhead. the yard is lush and green - but overgrown.

her horse whickers and throws its head up when she tries to urge it closer.

'another home no doubt abandoned during the civil war,' dorian says, pulling up beside her. 'someone ought to tell them they can come back. this place looks awful.'

near the rim of a distant fountain, a skeleton lays collapsed in the overgrown grass.

'i don't think it was the war that emptied this place, dorian.'

'what are you doing?' he asks as she dismounts. 'shouldn't we get that rune back to skyhold?'

'well, yes, but - ' she chews her bottom lip. 'there's something here. and it's the inquisition's job to bring stability to the area, right? so - '

'alright, alright. let me get the others, though.'

she hadn't even noticed she was already halfway through the front door.

and when it shuts on the five of them, it's with an echoing finality before all the light goes out.

-

'boss, i think the door just locked.'

from the shadows, cullen appears with a torch, and she only jumps slightly (she swears) when he asks for her to light it.

the iron bull tugs at the door. pushes. rams his shoulder into it. but the solid wood doesn't give. through the glow of cullen's torch light (what she can see now is just a borrowed sconce), they can see that all the curtains were drawn the moment they entered.

'why did we come here again?' the sound of varric drawing bianca echoes through the main hall.

all eyes turn to her. 'i thought i heard - i don't know. someone calling out for help?' and her name. very clearly her name.

a door creaks open at the end of the hall. light spills through the doorway, only partially illuminating their path.

'that's not creepy at all,' bull grouses. dorian murmurs a soft, 'i'll watch out for you.'

amell leads the way. inside the chateau is worse than outside. they step across broken glass and toppled furniture. scattered parchment whispers at their ankles. amell doesn't hear any more voices besides her companions.

'at the risk of sounding like solas,' dorian begins, 'the veil here is incredibly thin.'

he isn't wrong. it's gossamer thin, like walking through endless cobwebs. somehow it makes walking through a lit hallway unnerving in a way that has nothing to do with the fact that they watched each sconce flare to life just before they reached it.

as they step through the door at the other end of the hall, the next room looks nothing like the rest of the mansion. it's warm and lit, but small, and doesn't match what they saw outside. to their left, a hearth is blazing. the shadow of the stairs beyond it angles upward to the loft, so dark they can't see past. when amell turns to look behind her, the door is gone.

'hey, wait a minute. this place looks familiar,' varric says. 'it looks like - '

'annwn, what is the meaning of this?'

a woman, dressed in noble finery of a make she doesn't recognize and her blonde hair done up in a tight bun, points sharply at the burning hearth.

'mamae?' she whispers to herself, and then the woman stomps her way.

the sting of the slap makes her eyes water. amell touches her fingers to her cheek, and when she looks back to the woman, she's at least two feet taller.

'do not call me that word. i am your mother. now tell me why the fireplace is lit.'

'i-i was cold!' she stutters, her voice high and childlike. 'i was cold. we - ' there is an elven man standing in the shadows, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but there. the one who referred to lady amell as her mamae. ' - we couldn't find your matches. so - look!' little amell holds a mote of conjured flame suspended between her hands, then claps it away. 'i can do it myself!'

her mother grabs her by the wrist and squeezes hard. she feels the bones start to give. 'come with me. now, annwn.'

tears pour freely and her mother glares, unmoving. 'i'm sorry! i'm sorry, i won't do it again. please, mother - '

'come. you're going with the templars. bad enough that my sister ran away with one, but now my only child...'

she digs her heels into the carpet and tries her best to pull back. 'no, no, please, mother. i'm sorry! i don't want to go, please, please, i'll be good, please - '

something - someone - pulls her back before she can be dragged through the door. into inky blackness and a cluster of glowing eyes that wait. varric slams the door shut.

'inquisitor.' cullen holds her by her shoulders. 'you aren't going anywhere. was that...?'

the tears carried over from the illusion of the memory, and fresh ones join the tracks already there. 'the moment i was sent off to the circle. i was eight.'

-

she composes herself away from the others. what's going on? why would the fade show her that memory, out of all of them? later, after she rejoins her party, no longer visibly shaken, she learns.

as they're lead through the mansion, papers fly up to greet them, caught on sourceless gusts of wind. a note from a father, who locked up his child who began to show an affinity for magic. more worried about his family name than his daughter's well being. a note from the girl, so lonely and all she wanted to do was leave her room and make friends. and then one found her.

scraps from foolish books: ways to ensure your child isn't born a mage. amell briefly wonders if her mother had tried any of them.

led up to the final room upstairs, past a large, hanging sculpture of a dragon that bull moons over, amell hesitates at the door. she knows - they all know - what they'll find on the other side. a demon possessed child. connor all over again.

she pushes through.

in the middle of the large room, surrounded by a ring of toys, sits a little girl, perhaps a few years older than amell was when she was taken, in a floral day dress and wild brown hair. she sits up when she sees them and drops her dolls to the floor. 'hello! are you new friends?'

amell shares a look with the others before stepping forward. 'actually, we're looking for a way out. can you help us? what's your name?'

the - girl? - frowns. 'my name is nanette. my other friend told me you were here to be friends with me, though. there's no one else here to play with.'

amell kneels before the girl, who blinks up at her innocently. 'nanette, do you know what's happening? do you know... what your friend is?'

nanette hangs her head. 'i think everyone's gone. but i still have my friend.'

'how long have you known your friend?'

'um. a few months?' the girl tilts her head to the side and nods as if listening to someone whispering in her ear. 'yes, a few months.'

behind her, bull grumbles. 'okay. i'm going to talk to my companions here for a moment.' when she makes to stand, nanette reaches out to grab her hand.

'you can't leave me though. i've been so lonely.' the girl yawns. 'no one else has been... here... '

amell cuts off the spell and catches the girl before she can collapse to the ground. the air is silent.

'is she okay?' asks cullen, of the possessed child.

'sleeping. but with the demon so close, i'm not sure how long it'll hold.'

dorian strokes his chin. 'months like this? i'd be surprised if it wasn't just the demon toying with us. there's no girl there at all.'

'so, what, we just make the demon come out and kill it? then we can go home?' varric hopes aloud.

'doesn't feel right.' bull sniffs. 'killing a kid.'

'i agree,' says, surprisingly, cullen.

'what do you think, boss?'

she led them here. it's her decision to make. kill a child - if it is one - to free them. or - 'arl eamon's kid was possessed in redcliffe during the blight. some time between... between when i left for ostagar and when we arrived after the battle. less than a month, but... connor was still in there.'

she looks to nanette, slumbering softly, little hands opening and closing like a kitten kneading the air. 'there's a... very small chance she could be, as well.'

it would make killing her harder, though necessary.

'what do we need to do then?' cullen steps forward. 'how did you save connor?'

she blinks, drops her hand away from the dagger at her belt. 'more mages than we have here. no offense, dorian.' he shrugs. 'if you remember, we took a handful from the tower when we left.'

'so, what, we - we murder nanette to free ourselves?'

'i - ' i kill her, amell thinks. i brought us here. it's my fault. she exhales heavily. 'there is one other option.'

jowan taught me how to perform the ritual. i can do it without - without the mages or the extra lyrium. but it would require me to use blood magic.'

and a sacrifice, but she could probably make do without...

'i would need everyone's help, though.'

'our blood, you mean.'

she looks cullen straight in the eye when she says, 'it's that or i sacrifice myself so dorian can exorcise the demon in the fade.'

'could you not... open a rift? draw the demon out that way and slay it?'

amell shakes her head. 'not without killing nanette. or risking more demons pouring through in the interim.'

varric steps forward, one hand tugging up his sleeve. 'what's a little blood between friends, right? come on, let's save this kid.'

-

'i'm sorry,' amell whispers. blood beads and spills from the shallow cut on cullen's arm. he holds out his arm like the rest of them and lets the blood drip to the floor.

amell stands between cullen and varric, completing the circle, and slices deep into her palm. cullen shouts in alarm, but she raises her bloody hand to silence him. her blood spills and travels through the grooves in the wooden floor to meet the others. when it all connects, power erupts beneath her.

last time she did this, she was the one being sent into the fade. to be the caster and the one to go under - it's taking more out of her already than she imagined.

the girl stirs in the center of the spell, but when she rises its with jerky and inhuman movements. her eyes glow the sickly green of the fade.

'come on,' she taunts. 'it isn't the girl you need anymore. that's why you called out to me, isn't it? why you showed me that memory?'

'what are you doing?' cullen hisses.

'drawing it out,' she explains through gritted teeth. 'it has to let her go before i can - '

a dark chuckle. sweat beads on her temple. she feels the first tremor in her arm.

'she isn't strong enough, and you know it! you want more power.' there's an echo she can hear to her own voice. more demons than the one she wants closing in. she's drawn too much attention to herself. the mark flares, and the voices subside. 'nanette can't do that, now can she?'

nanette's body falls to the ground hard, but the glowing eyes stay in the center of the circle. if she squints, she can see the outline of the demon beginning to take shape.

it's enough.

amell closes her fist, and at the last drop of blood to hit the floor, the world goes white.

-

amell once again finds nanette playing with her dolls, though the room is only half formed in the fade.

'oh! my friend said he wanted to see you. come on, this way.'

she follows behind as broken rocks and landscape coalesce into the halls of chateau d'onterre. a roar rumbles in the distance.

when nanette finally sees the true form of her friend - a tall, spindly limbed terror demon - she shouts and makes to hide.

amell turns quickly and takes the girl by the shoulders. 'nanette, you have to wake up. wake up from this. my friends will be there to help you, okay? but you have to go now.'

thankfully, the girl nods and leaves, running back from where they came until she quite literally disappears. awake. amell sighs with relief.

'we all know who you are, now, mage,' says the demon with no mouth. 'we've seen you.'

'good for you.' her staff appears in her hand. 'i'm not here to listen to you, though.'

impossibly black eyes narrow. 'you offered yourself. you and your terror. you fear all of your friends will leave you. that you'll die alone.'

'you don't know me at all.'

with barely a thought, her staff is wreathed in lightning, and, at another, arcing across the distance between them. the demon might have held onto nanette for as long as it did, but with the girl's abilities barely honed the demon's powers have stagnated, and it shows.

in what feels like only a moment, amell has the demon trapped in a cage of lightning. it shrieks every time it throws itself against the walls, but they hold steadfast. she brings her hands together. the demon's flesh sizzles and pops as the lightning closes in. it ends with a crack of thunder that echoes across the limitless fade, and then the demon is nothing but ash.

amell allows herself a weary sigh. she's more exhausted than she thought she'd be. when she turns to follow nanette back across the veil, she stumbles.

in front of her is that avatar of fear, hundreds of eyes trained on her. it opens its maw, lined with an infinite number of teeth.

i know your fear.

amell screams.

-

she comes to, with that scream tearing out of her throat and something holding her, stopping her from retreating. she beats her fists against it and tries to push away.

'it's me. it's me!' says cullen, and then she realizes it's his arms around her. her back propped up against his knee, she's laid across his lap. she lowers her fists. her right, with the deep gash still bleeding, stings when she opens her hand. 'it's safe. the demon is gone.'

'nanette?'

'safe. the others brought her to a different room... just in case.'

she closes her eyes and sighs. 'good idea.' she opens them again, and cullen is looking down at her, worried. 'is everyone else okay? are you?'

'yes.' he tries to help her to her feet, but her limbs feel leaden. he lowers her to sit next to him. 'your hand...'

'right.' she raises the other over it, but before she can cast the spell to heal it, cullen pulls it over to him. he rests it on his knee as he twists to dig something out of his pack. 'what are you doing?'

he turns back with bandages, a poultice, and his canteen in hand. 'you're drained. and while the demon is gone, i don't think it safe to prod at the veil still.'

she watches him curiously as he gently splays her fingers. he wets the end of the bandage with his canteen and sets to cleaning her palm. she winces when he brushes too close to the wound.

'i'm sorry,' he murmurs, and the next brush is so soft she barely feels it.

when her hand is clean, he applies the poultice with that same gentleness. her fingers twitch every time he runs his own across her palm. next, he wraps the bandage around her hand, one thumb holding it in place at her wrist. when he's done tying off the excess bandage, the tingling in her hand has nothing to do with the numbing properties of the poultice.

she doesn't know when she rested her head on his shoulder, but even when he's finished he doesn't push her away.

'thank you.' she doesn't know where they are now - if she should call him cullen or commander, so she leaves it off.

'were you serious about sacrificing yourself?'

she lifts her head and looks at him then. 'i - ' her gaze drops to her hand, the one with the anchor embedded in her palm. a contrast to her self-inflicted wound on the other. 'mostly.' after witnessing the future in redcliffe, she knows she's more useful alive if only for the anchor. 'the other option was to sacrifice someone else, and i wouldn't do that.'

cullen hums in thought. 'can you stand?'

'yes, i think so.' she stands without his help, only to end up reaching out for him to steady herself. 'i'm fine, i'm fine. just - sitting for too long.'

before they can reach the door, varric opens it and waltzes through. 'ah, good to see you're okay, cousin. when dorian said you were taking too long we were starting to get worried.'

'it took a little bit longer to recover than i anticipated.' out of the corner of her eye, she sees cullen shift and duck his head. she can almost feel him blushing. 'is everyone - ?'

'ready to get the hell out of this creepy mansion? yes. i can't believe i'm actually excited to get back out into the humidity of the emerald graves.' he groans.

varric takes over in helping her across the balcony of the second floor and down the stairs. by the time they reach the main entrance she can walk by herself, at least.

with nanette on his shoulders, iron bull opens the door with ease and leads them back out into the light.

as she stands in the sunlight and promises herself she isn't seeing eyes in the eaves of sundappled trees, cullen brings her her horse. though they still aren't talking, he rides next to her. occasionally she catches him checking on her.

which is fine. because if she closes her eyes for a second too long, the avatar of fear stares back.

[edgessunflower]

Send me an emoji with a movie clip and I will write a drabble!

🩹 - Patching wounds

❤️‍🩹 - Finding love after a bad relationship

💕 - A love confession

💋 - A kiss

❤️‍🔥 - Making love

🫂 - Reuniting

💍 - Proposal

💒 - Wedding

🚿 - Shower

♥️ - Finding out about their true feelings

💃🏻 - Dancing

💌 - Love letters

☔ - In the rain

🏥 - In the hospital

🫶🏻 - Meeting family

💓 - Realizing they're in love

💘 - Falling in love

💗 - Meet cute

💔 - Getting injured

🤒 - Sick

🧳 - Traveling