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Trick or treat! Can I have something Kaamelott related please? Happy spooky day to you :)
Happy spooky day to you too :D
*
Samhain
CâĂ©tait lâun de ces midis oĂč Arthur avait invitĂ© Perceval Ă sa table. Le roi avait souhaitĂ© dĂ©jeuner en petit comitĂ©, sâĂ©pargner la vĂ©hĂ©mence de sa belle-famille, et profiter un peu de la prĂ©sence de son chevalier prĂ©fĂ©rĂ©. Surtout que ce soir, le festin de Samhain battrait son plein et lui demanderait toute son attention. CâĂ©tait donc un petit moment de rĂ©pit ensemble, le calme avant la tempĂȘte.Â
IndĂ©cis, Perceval lâobservait de cet air hĂ©sitant quâil prenait parfois avant de poser une question. FidĂšle Ă sa patience habituelle, Arthur lâencouragea Ă se lancer :
« Oui ?Â
-Nan, vous allez trouver ça bĂȘteâŠ
-Je mây attends, le rassura le souverain en se dĂ©coupant un morceau de poulet. Crachez-la, votre pastille !
-Câest quoi Samhain ? »
LĂ , Arthur reposa son couteau, incrĂ©dule. Il Ă©tait habituĂ© aux questions de Perceval, qui nâĂ©taient pas sans rappeler celles dâun enfant, mais lĂ , tout de mĂȘmeâŠ
« Enfin, Perceval, câest le banquet de ce soir ! Ne me dites pas que vous avez dĂ©jĂ oubliĂ© ?
-Ben ouais mais pourquoi on fait la fĂȘte ? »
Une question presque philosophique, finalement. Arthur tĂącha de faire de son mieux.
« Vous avez sĂ»rement remarquĂ© quâon est passĂ© de lâĂ©tĂ© Ă lâautomne.
-Ouais, on se les pĂšleâŠ
-Pour nos druides, ça veut donc dire quâon est dans une pĂ©riode de transition (il vit Perceval grimacer). De changement, si vous prĂ©fĂ©rez.
-Parce quâil fait froid ?
-Ăa, et parce que le monde de lâinvisible et le nĂŽtre se rejoignent, juste pour cette nuit.
-Mais pourquoi on sâamuse, alors ? Ăa me fout plutĂŽt les miquettes, ça !
-Pour apaiser les esprits. Peut-ĂȘtre pour nous rassurer, aussi. Vous voyez ? »
Perceval hocha la tĂȘte.
« Jâaime bien quand vous mâexpliquez des trucs. Je pige toujours un peu mieux. »
#kaamelott#arthur et perceval#my fics#samhain#halloween#halloween fics#kt fics#kaamelott fics#petits croustillants#petitscroustillants#ask game#fic game#tumblr fics#whatthefrance#upthebaguette
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Athena shoots upright as soon as her eyes fly open, gasping. She calls on her spear and slashes in a brutal curve, provoking shouts from the enemies who'd been holding her down as they back off. Bares her teeth in a snarl as she grabs the sheets off the bed to whip at the eyes of the assailants and-
Light floods into her eyes as they step away from her attack and she freezes as she remembers a flash of brightness too fast to escape, heat and burning like never before, electricity that seeped into her very bones, thunder that deafened, lightning that hurt-
"Get back!" She hears and turns unsteadily back to- back to where Apollo is pulling Ares back by the cape against the far wall. Apollo. Ares. Aphrodite, Aephestus, Artemis.
"Wh-" She manages, before she's bowled over, coughing. She has never done it before, and she can't stop it from happening- chest rattling as her knees give out, barely holding herself up with her spear in time to reach the bed. It doesn't stop, doesn't stop, plumes of smoke escaping her mouth as she can't stop, can't breathe-
"Athena," Hera whispers, and a rough hand gently touches her on the shoulder, handing her a glass of nectar. She accepts it gratefully, tilting her head back to down it. It's soothing like it's never been before, stoping the coughing at last and it clears her headache long enough to realize that she isn't in her armour- she's in a chiton.
"Where is my armour?" She rasps as soon as she can, wiping her mouth. Looks around- Apollo's chambers.
She'd always known being the favourite wouldn't protect her forever. But repeating the words didn't seem to reduce the hurt.
Nor the shaking fear.
"-not!" Apollo is saying, indignantly setting his hands on his hips. "Do you have any idea how hard you got hit? You're lucky I could even stabilize your aspect enough to reduce some of the damage, otherwise you'd still be having a seizure back at Mount Olympus!"
"Mount Olympus," Athena mutters oddly, without much intent to it. She tries to stand again and her vision suddenly cuts out, provoking a round of screams as she loses her balance.
When the world blurrily comes back into focus- and she doesn't like this, hates this sudden weakness; she's always been able to get back up from any blow, has never visited a medical chamber in her existence, even when they had to fight the Titans- she's in Ares' arms, oddly horizontal.
"Cease this stupidity, sister," Artemis hisses at her as she grabs onto Athena's arms to bring her back to the bed. "Calm yourself. You are alive. You are safe."
"My armour," Athena says, voice cracking, head rolling oddly on her neck, unable to look upright. She catches a glimpse of Aephastus holding onto a sobbing Aphrodite, staring at her with a strange sort of sorrow.
Something twinges in Athena's chest in reply, but she stumbles before she can address it, feeling a fission of panic at the instability before Ares' grip on her tightens enough to keep her upright. They're all staring at her like that, she realizes, with that same horrified heartbreak.
"Didn't Artemis just tell you to cease stupidity?" Ares barks, though it's rather quietly said, for him. He adjusts her on the bed until she can lean back against the pillows. His hands are shaking, and Athena stares at them with curiosity. "Weren't you the one to lecture me half to death about when to remove the armour?"
"What," She says weakly, then moans as an aftershock trembles through her, residual sparks humming maliciously as they exit her skin, leaving her trembling. "I- hmmm, what? What were- what were-"
"Athena, calm down, please, you're scaring us," Hera says, bangles jangling as she sits down next to her, taking one of Athena's hands with desperation. Athena tilts her head to squint, noticing the tears for the first time, before she shudders as her skin registers the heat, the unbearable heat.
"Scaring?" She murmurs when it stops, voice coming out smaller than she intended it to.
"Her fever keeps rising and falling," Apollo reenters the room before anyone can answer, carrying a large tub of some odd liquid. "Here, help me rub this on her skin, it should extract any remaining- any remaining lightning."
They all move towards the tub at the same time, dipping the cloths provided and then taking positions in a circle surrounding her. Athena stiffens, fingers twitching for a weapon, but the first touch of Hera's drenched cloth on her forehead makes her moan in relief, the blessed coolness of it making her melt back into the sheets. She has no strength to complain or protest when her fellow gods each take a limb to rub at, a sensation both horrifically terrible and unbearably good. She has never taken her armour off in her life.
"Easy, that's it," Apollo says coaxingly, lips downturned like he's trying not to cry. She whimpers as the cloth on her left leg suddenly burns as a spark escapes, instinctively pulling it away, but Aphrodite grabs it before she can and resumes rubbing, whispering apologies. She turns her head and weakly opens her mouth for the herb Apollo lifts to her lips, desperate for relief from the splitting headache.
She can't think. She can't think.
Athena has no idea how long it goes on, how long the other gods ignore their realms to tend to her. Slowly, they strike up a conversation, something light-hearted that she can't follow- different from their never-ending arguments and insults, as they talk about the past year and humourous stories and varied anecdotes.
Athena can't help but relax into it, the soft bed at her back and gentle hands massaging her sore muscles and warmth all around her. Feels something trembling within her since she first became aware of herself settling down with a sigh.
Until she suddenly smells ozone.
Hera and Apollo both notice her tensing up immediately, and look to where she can hear slow footsteps approaching. Apollo growls and shoots out a hand, bringing up the shields of his realm.
The conversation dies down as they all look to the side, at the distinct shadow at the other side of the curtain.
Rage, Athena realises, thoughts slow and muddied. They're angry with him.
"I will handle this," Hera says coldly, with the steel undertone that Athena strives for. She moves her cloth aside and leans down to kiss Athena on the forehead, like a mother would. "You rest, my daughter."
Athena's breath hitches, eyes burning. Nobody has ever cared for her, apart from Zeu-
Nobody has ever cared for her.
... Nobody has-
Hera turns sharply at the noise that suddenly escapes Athena, half hysterical laugh and half distraught wail.
"Did I win?" Athena asks desperately, pushing herself upright, ignoring the protests of the others as she pulls her limbs from their grasp. Hera stares at her and Athena grabs the side of the bed as she tries to lever herself up like a wild animal, demanding in a broken voice, "Did I win?"
A silence that stretches for a painful moment before- "Yes," Aephastus says, putting his hand on her shoulder to guide her back from the edge. "Yes, Athena, you won."
A strangled gasp of relief leaves her, making her light-headed as she leans back against the pillows. She shivers, then sobs- humiliation running through her before she hears an answering noise of sorrow from Aphrodite next to her, pressure all around as her five younger siblings embrace her carefully, gently, like she would break at any moment.
She's not the one who's been raped by a Titan's daughter for seven years.
The thought has her breath hitching, wiping her tears away with a hand that refuses to co-operate the first few tries. "I need to-"
"No," Artemis snaps, glaring at her. "I know you think of nothing but your work, but Athena, you cannot do it this time." Outside, Hera's and Zeus' voices rise as they begin to shout and scream. "You must rest."
"N-no, that's not- aah," She groans as another aftershock rips through her, leaving her panting and soaked in sweat when it's done. "I need to- I need-"
"Hermes has gone to his grandson," Aephastus says soothingly. "Peace, Athena. Your hero is free."
For a moment, it doesn't comprehend and she stares at him blankly. "Free," She repeats, words still infuriatingly faint and lilting. "He's free? I- I need my helmet, where is-"
"No, Athena!"
"Sister, please, you cannot resume your duties, you are in no state!"
"I need my helmet, please, please- just give me my helmet!"
Her cry echoes off the walls and she hears herself when it bounces back to her, broken and pleading and so unlike her she feels nauseous. Her siblings have gone silent and still at her begging, staring at her with shock and horror and fear and sorrow alike. Even Zeus and Hera have stopped talking.
Athena shakes, wishing she could rip this awful vulnerability out of her veins, wishes she could find a stone footing to stand on once more, wishes she wasn't in this horrible chiton.
"Please," She whispers.
Quietly, Aephastus gets to his feet and walks in the direction of the nearby drawers, where she can now see her belongings stacked up haphazardly, blood-stained.
"Sister, you must calm down," Aphrodite pleads. She takes her hands and Athena dazedly looks down at her, with her wide, scared eyes. Seizure, her mind registers finally from Apollo's earlier talk. Ah. She seems to have frightened them all. "You cannot afford a relapse."
Athena squeezes her fingers in acknowledgement, but reaches for the helmet when it's held out, dented and worn.
She touches the metal and feels the full force of seven years of silenced prayers hit her at once.
She's crying before she knows she's doing it, clutching the helmet to her chest as the warmth of the worship wraps around her like a shawl, and holds it tight against her as Ares tries to pry it away.
"No, no!" Apollo intervenes, shifting forward. He touches a hand to the helmet and suddenly the hymn bursts forth around them, loud even though the prayer itself is quiet and broken. Athena inhales at the feeling of it, soothing over the cracks in her own mind with their never-ending continuity, desolate, unbroken faith even when she never came to help-
He's still singing.
She shifts her hands on the helmet to make sure but- yes. Odysseus is calling her, still, at this very moment.
Her head snaps up, but even the dizziness the motion causes doesn't take away from how much clearer the room looks. "Where is he?"
"Sister-"
"If you do not answer me, I will take to the skies myself," She says firmly. "Where is he?"
Her siblings exchange looks.
"Three days out from Ithaka," Artemis replies with a sigh. "On a raft. But listen, wait but an hour, at least absorb these prayers-"
Athena stumbles off the bed and pulls on the helmet, closing her eyes.
"Wait, the bandages-!"
"Athena, you'll hurt yourself, please!"
"Daughter, be careful!"
Athena opens her eyes and looks out at the waves, rough and choppy, but not enough to sink the raft. She looks down and looks at the way the faded clothes don't fit him, the way he has no water left to drink but he still continues to sing.
"Odysseus," She says, and he freezes.
A wave rises and falls. They stay silent, unmoving.
"Won't you look?" The words break out of her, cracked and desperate.
He inhales and exhales, tears in the sound of it. "I don't want to look if you're... if you're not really here."
She swallows against the lump in her throat, takes a step forward. "Well, I-" Her voice cracks, but the fragile grin on her face is real as it spreads, the frailest thread of laughter entering her voice. "I would hope. That if you were hallucinating of me, that the spectre would at least have wisdom enough to tell you that you were."
Odysseus sobs and her heart cracks, feels his heart cracking in turn; yet it is akin to a misaligned bone that never healed right and has to be reset- she can hear the laughter before it comes, with relief coming from the brink of madness, with joy they'd both forgotten and missed. "It is you."
"I could not reach you on Ogygia," She blurts out, desperate to make him understand. "Could not hear your call. I would have come the second time you prayed, if I had."
"It is you," He whispers, swaying. A wave rises suddenly and they both burst into movement, grabbing ropes and pulling the mast, balancing together to keep it steady.
The wave passes. They are almost touching now.
"Won't you look?" Athena asks again, raw and grieving. "Odysseus. My companion, my friend. Please."
He turns at that, a stunned expression on his face- before it turns into wide-eyed horror as he looks at her. She laughs breathlessly, slightly dizzy, but- her friend. How lovely it is to see him again.
"Athena!" He rushes forward with unexpected vitality, the parts of him that she knew suddenly rising to light in his eyes, in his movements, becoming unhidden from the defeated, beaten figure he'd been moments before. "What in Gaia's name-"
"I'm sorry," She interrupts as she slumps forward into the hands on her arms, off-balance. "I should have tried better to understand, all those years ago. I understand now and I- Odysseus, I am-"
"Athena, shut up," Odysseus snaps, clearly panicking. She laughs again, because isn't it such a novelty, to have a person who will have the audacity to tell her to? "Of course it's forgiven, I'm sorry too, I should have fucking listened back then- but listen, what in Hades happened to you? Why do you look like this- why do you have bandages- Hermes wouldn't answer when I asked if something happened to you, fuck-"
"Peace," Athena rasps, even as her vision blinks in and out, forcing her to kneel. They both grimace as another wave crashes into the raft, but they don't upturn. Odysseus kneels down with her, staring at her with such worry and concern she can feel nothing but fondness. "The disagreements of gods are often violent."
"Gods-" His eyes flicker to the side of her face, and he frowns, reaching out to push back the helmet. She bends her face down to let him, feeling an odd burning on the left side that she has a vague bad feeling about- proved right when Odysseus' expression falls into blank horror. "You got into a fight with-"
"Yes."
"But he's your-"
"I know. He did not take kindly to my petition to release you," She smiles dryly, without mirth.
"To release me?" Odysseus wheezes, face cracking into anguish and disbelief alike. "Athena, what- I- I'm not worth-"
"It was worth it," She snaps. "Consider it my penance for abandoning my own. I certainly don't regret it."
"I never felt abandoned," Odysseus whispers, taking her hands as she shifts, supporting her body with his own as they lean against the mast. She looks at him, and remembers why Penelope is still weaving, why he's still out on the waters, why Ithaka is waiting out the suitors till Telemachus takes the throne. "I always knew you would come back. I just figured it would take ten years more, perhaps."
Athena is silent for a bit, absorbing that. And then, because she can't hold it back any longer- "I am sorry about your men." His breath hitches under her and she turns to take him in her arms, knowing what's coming. "I am sorry about your friends."
He sobs, ugly and loud, and she holds him tighter. "I am sorry that Titan's whelp had you for so long, and what she did to you. I am sorry the Fates were so unkind."
"Athena," He keens, finally falling to pieces. The sobs are mere loud gasps for air at first, before it dissolves into wailing, screaming, grieving for all the men they'd kept alive through a war, only to lose them to this cruel tragedy instead. Even she hadn't known- hadn't anticipated how wrong things would go after she left. Hadn't even thought that he hadn't reached home.
"It's all my fucking fault," He shouts, shaking. "If only I had- if only-"
"It is not. No one could have known," She whispers. "The Fates are unknown to us all."
He sobs louder and she closes her eyes.
But finally, their tears dry up. She holds him still, as the night fades and the sun rises again, trying to take his hurt into herself so he can be happy again.
"I am sorry," She whispers, seaspray around them. "That my enemies became your own. That I pushed you so hard. That I chose you, and brought pain to your life so."
"Hey now," Odysseus says, pulling back to look at her, a broken smile on his face. "Hold your blasphemous tongue, before you insult the wisdom of Pallas Athena." She laughs, even as tears spill over. "Even if I had the chance to choose again right at this moment, my goddess, I would still choose you."
"That means more than you know," Athena murmurs, overcome. She gathers all her strength and reaches out to run a hand over his head, soothing his mind and driving away the last tendrils of madness that were still holding onto him. He sighs and relaxes under her, some visible weight lifting from his shoulders. "Still. I will learn from my mistakes. If you would give your old friend a chance-"
"Stop right there. Of course I-" Odysseus scoffs, reaching out to hold her left cheek for emphasis. "Athena, your left eye is half gone."
"Ah. Well, that explains the depth perception," She mutters, then bursts into giggles at the incredulous look on his face.
"Are you drugged?" Odysseus demands, but he's already trying not to laugh himself. They both move on fast. "What am I saying, of course you are- have you been drugged this whole time? Who on Earth drugged you?"
"That would be me," Apollo says, crossing his arms.
Odysseus snarls, grabbing his sword and swinging wildly in an arc, half-animal in his panic, pushing Athena behind him.
"FUCKING- whoa, hey, calm down, it's her brother, it's Apollo!" Apollo half-shrieks inelegantly, jumping back. "Honestly! Athena, call off your hero, please."
"Apollo?" Odysseus tilts his head, lowering his sword and narrowing his eyes.
Apollo stares at him. "Wow, you two- really do act the exact same, huh. Yes, Apollo, god of please let me change your fucking bandages, do you mind?"
Odysseus bows and murmurs apologies, clearly wary of getting into more trouble, but to her mild surprise walks behind Athena instead of to the other side of the raft.
"I don't need assistance," She mutters to him, even as she grimaces at the length of the chiton as she tries to pull herself upright.
"You're still dizzy," Odysseus points out, settling in behind her to hold her steady. He wipes at the tears still on his face and smiles at her. She manages a half-smile back. "Do you need to go back to Olympus?"
"Yes," Artemis crosses her hands and Odysseus' fingers tighten painfully on her shoulders.
"I'm not quite certain there's space for so many on this raft," Athena mutters.
"It's a magical raft, it'll survive- but never mind that, could you not have at least sent a message that you were okay?"
"Well, maybe you should have thought of that before running off without a word!"
"Really, daughter, you should know better!"
Odysseus grip is bruising now, and his sword is in front of Athena protectively; she can already tell what moves he's planning to use if they choose to attack. "Who..?" He asks lowly.
"Pantheon. At ease," She replies back shortly, before looking up at the others. "I thank you, my fellow go- my family, for your worry and concern. But we are only two days out from Ithaka and I would like to see this journey completed."
"You are not going to see yourself completed, if you don't rest," Apollo says, roughly at the exact same time that Athena undermines her own argument by throwing up on the raft.
"Athena, go," Odysseus says urgently when it's over, handing her helmet back to her and adjusting her cape as Hera kneels down beside her to hand her another glass of nectar, looking at him oddly. Odysseus grimaces and changes his tone. "I will be fine, patroness. I'll call for you when I reach the shores."
Movement catches her eye and she sees Ares remove his own helmet, giving her a reproving look. She remembers the speech he was talking about now- the one she'd loudly ranted at him when she was drunk a year ago, thinks about how much more at ease he is now.
"Alright," She acquiesces and everyone breathes a sigh of relief. "Two days."
Mania fills Odysseus' eyes as he smiles back, finally home from a war twenty years ago. "Two days."
Athena grins, even as she feels Hera wrap an arm around her to take her away. "Penelope is waiting."
Odysseus' eyes widen, then fill with tears, like he'd never quite truly let himself believe it; but his smile is wide and true. "Penelope is waiting. Thank you, Pallas Athena."
"You don't thank friends," She murmurs, exhaustion settling in. Odysseus laughs and the last thing she feels is a warm hand on her cheek and their foreheads pressed together, before the world goes black and she knows no more.
#athena#odysseus#god games#the aftermath at least#epic the musical#epic the wisdom saga#listen athena is the oldest sister. seeing that 'perfect' and unbroken goddess have a seizure because zeus lost his temper and attacked her#would Not have been easy on them#tw sex assault#< for Calypso#seizures are scary as all hell and no god has ever been injured enough to have one before#which is why theyre all terrified#also both of them have not processed much theyre just keeping their focus on the horizon#hera#aphrodite#ares#hephaestus#i just liked the a theme but it is him#artemis#found kt weird she wasnt there???#apollo#zeus but everyone is currently on the brink of murdering him#does it count as#odyath#if i mean for that to happen wayyy in the future#rn they r just friends that also happen to be intertwined in each other's mannerisms#odypen#my fic
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43) âgod youâre so emotionally constipated.â for Emily x Reader please.
history smothers us
emily prentiss x gn!reader
summary: years of unspoken words and misconceptions threaten to destroy what remains of a once close relationship. you couldn't imagine your life without emily. now you look at her and feel every part of the ocean that destroyed you both. featuring prompt "god you're so emotionally consitpated" from my prompt list.
word count: 2.3k
warnings: angst with a happy ending. mention of blood. no use of y/n. set in season 12. unit chief prentiss.
a/n: thank you so much for the request <3 sorry it took me a while I struggled to find the right idea. I imagine this wasn't what you had in mind but I do hope you enjoy it anyway. also side note: i've deleted my taglist, i'm restarting because it was years old so if anyone would like be re-tagged or anyone new would like to be added pls lmk!
The police lights flash in the midnight sky. Agents and local police spread across the farmhouse. And you, sitting in the back of an ambulance, blood dripping down the side of your head, the beginnings of a headache making itself known. Â
The bright torch shining in your eyes makes you wince, but the EMT clears you of a concussion and hands you pain meds to swallow. You drag your hand through your hair, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips.Â
The unsub had come out of nowhere and whacked you over the head with a metal pole, and he probably wouldâve done a lot more if it wasnât for Tara being two steps behind you.Â
Honestly, you were fine. A little banged up, with a nasty bruise already forming, but the blood had been wiped away and it was almost like it had never happened.
Well, apart from the very angry Unit Chief Prentiss stalking towards you.Â
You wish this was an unfamiliar sight, but god sheâd been back months now and you donât think her smile had been pointed in your direction once.Â
âWhat were you thinking?â She scolds, voice sharp and eyes narrowed. You donât miss the shaking of her hands as she holds them tightly on her hips or the rising flush of her cheeks, both she would blame on the cold but you knew they were born out of concern, not that sheâd ever admit it. Not anymore.
âIâm sorry I didnât realise the FBI now required its agents to have the abilities to see through walls.â You roll your eyes, the half-joke an attempt to fix her glare, but you know even as the words pass your lips itâs futile. Your shoulders slump, already tired for the fight ahead, âHe came out of nowhere, Prentiss.âÂ
Her lips purse, âThey require you to be able to clear a room. It seems you might need a refresher course. Maybe until you can be trusted and I deem you requalified itâs best you stay back in quantico.âÂ
âWhat?â You ask incredulously. Of all the dumb things- âLet me get this straight, youâre benching me over nothing? Tara was through that door seconds later. I wasnât defying your orders. You have no reason to do this!â
âI want you to redo your basic training so I know you can be trusted in the field.â She demands, stoic, serious, and so far away from the soft woman you used to be able to reach out to.Â
You laugh, but the noise is sad and wild. You shake your head in disbelief, watching the woman in front of you that years ago used to be the person you were closest to in the world. Now you stare at her and feel every part of the ocean that destroyed you both. âGod, youâre so emotionally constipated.âÂ
âExcuse me?âÂ
You push yourself off the end of the ambulance, bringing yourself to your full height and meeting her gaze. You knew the day she accepted the unit chief position this wouldnât end well, there was too much history, too much the two of you had left unsaid, hurt and anger smothering any possible relationship left.Â
âLetâs not pretend this has anything to do with my performance.â You begin,
words low enough that if she didnât listen the words threatened to disappear with the wind, âItâs because I got hurt and youâd rather damage my career and ruin the tatters of our relationship than admit that me getting hurt scared you.âÂ
Emily steps backwards, face stricken. Her hands fall from her hips, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles for words.Â
You decide thereâs nothing left she can say. You excuse yourself and grab a lift with Luke, happy to leave the crime scene and your boss behind. After everyoneâs finished at the farmhouse and packed up at the police station itâs nearing two am and everyone is ordered back to the hotel to catch a few hours of sleep before the flight in the morning.Â
Your feet are dragging by the time you make it to your room. The meds have done their job though and your headache had faded away, but nothing but sleep was going to help your heavy and aching bones. You wave a tired goodbye to Tara, who unlike Emily had no issues checking in and making sure you were okay, and then retreat to your room.Â
You slump into the chair at the desk, telling yourself youâll find the energy to get ready for bed in one minute. But so thankful to finally be off your feet. Your reprieve lasts only minutes before a knock sounds at your door. A withered sigh leaves your lips and you consider ignoring it but still find yourself pushing yourself upright and making your way back to the door.Â
When you open it, you wish youâd listened to your thoughts.Â
âHi?â You say hesitantly, staring into the tired face of Emily Prentiss. Thereâs no anger, her shoulders are almost slumped, defeated maybe? You look away, too scared to analyse further.Â
âCan I come in?âÂ
You open the door further allowing her entrance. She smiles, tight lipped at you, nodding her thanks. You close the door and wait for her to speak, pondering how in the hell you both got to awkward silences and forced tight lipped smiles when years ago you two could share looks across the room and know what the other was thinking, spent hours talking and laughing together, how you had built a life and never thought there would be a day that she wasnât in it with you.Â
âWe canât go on like this.â She starts eyes meeting yours before flickering away, âThings between us have not been right since I returned and I think maybe we should clear the air. I want to be the Unit Chief, I want to be back here at Quantico but that only works if we can be a team.âÂ
You scoff. It slips from your mouth, uncontrolled and harsh. Emilyâs gaze snaps to yours, her surprise at the sound clear. You shake your head, âWhat is there to say?â Where would we even begin?
âI-â She chokes, blinking as the emotions claw at her throat. âIâm sorry for hurting you.â
Your brows draw in confusion as you shake your head, âWhat are you talking about?â
âAfter everything that happened with Doyle-â
Your eyes bulge, âYou think I'm still upset about that? God, do you think Iâm a monster? You survived. You lived. Thatâs all that matters.âÂ
Tears pool in her eyes, but she blinks them away, her gaze shifting to the wall as her fingers pick at a hangnail. She looks back at you, still picking, gaze more open and lost than youâve seen in a long time. âThen why? I hurt you. I can see it in the way you can barely stand to be around me, like it hurts you to even be in my presence.âÂ
You blow out a breath, eyes moving around the room before they land back on her and then away again. âItâs not your fault.â You breathe, emotions lodged in your throat and heart beating wildly against your chest as you try and force the words out. âYou didnât hurt me, I hurt myself. There was never going to be a life I led that you werenât right with me, you know?â You laugh, wet and broken.Â
Emilyâs mouth falls open, her eyes emotional pits that you donât dare hold.Â
âAnd then you left for London and I couldnât exactly be upset because I had no say in what you did with your life. We were just friends. I knew itâs what you needed and I donât resent you for that. I justâŠâ You take a breath, âI was so angry at myself for missing you, for thinking that I could be someone you would stay for.â
And there it was. The truth. Because at the end of the day, youâve always just wanted to be enough for the woman in front of you. For her to see you as more than just your friend. To one day have your feelings returned.Â
Sheâd left and youâd both been busy and youâd deliberately tried to separate yourself as well, drawing back from the painful reminder that you werenât enough. And since her return, all those emotions have been resurfacing, however much you tried to keep them buried. Because falling out of love with Emily Prentiss was just not something you were capable of, and youâve spent years trying too.Â
Emily approaches you, the space between you closing ever so slightly. Your gaze sticks to the ground, scared to see the easy to read emotions across her face. She takes a breath, the sound muffled by the beating of your heart.
âAfter I came back from Paris, I used to find myself looking at you and knowing I couldnât be that woman you remembered, the one you sought for. I wanted to. Desperately.â Her voice hitches, and then lowers to a hoarse whisper, âI wanted to be the woman you fell for.âÂ
Your eyes finally rise, against your will. Tears make their way in delicate paths down her cheeks, she looks every bit as lost as you feel. The only thing stopping you from falling apart is the fear that if you let go you may never recover.Â
âI didnât need you to be anyone. I just wanted you to be yourself. I wanted you to trust me.â You respond gently.
She shakes her head, âNo, everyone was looking for that version of me that I couldnât grasp onto.â
âEmily,â You sigh painfully. Her face crumples, eyes squeezing shut at the sound of her name from your lips. Itâs been so long, you know. âYou were healing from a trauma. Iâve always wanted the authentic you, whatever that includes. Why would that suddenly change?âÂ
She nods, a deep frown on her face as she accepts your words. Then a wet laugh, as she wipes away her tears. âIâve missed you. Every day. I hate being in the same room as you and it being awkward. I used to be able to look at you and know what youâre thinking. I want that back.âÂ
A small smile curves your lips, âMe too, more than anything.âÂ
âYeah?â She questions. Her teeth run across her lip, as she dares to hope. âYou think we could get back there?âÂ
Your heart hammers. âI just need you to be really clear here. What exactly are we getting back to?âÂ
She steps forward, finally close enough to touch. Her hand hesitantly reaches out and touches yours, her cold fingers intertwining with your warm ones. Your body remembers her touch, relaxes and leans into it automatically. You eat it hungrily, tracking the movement before your eyes rise to meet hers and find soft, open eyes watching you. âI want to make you fall in love with me again.â
Your breath catches in your throat, tears pooling in your eyes as your hand shakes in hers.
âAnd this time, I promise, Iâll be there to catch you.âÂ
âWe might have a slight problem with that plan.â You laugh, trying your hardest not to sob.
She frowns, nose wrinkling in the way you adore. âWhatâs that?âÂ
âItâs pretty difficult to re-fall in love when I never stopped loving you in the first place.â You huff, and Emily laughs, rich and free and bright. Her face joyful and happy, and with the wide bright smile youâve waited months to feel pointed in your direction. God the sight makes your head spin.
âIs that so?â She asks, hand moving up to cup your cheek, eyes full of love and pointed at you.Â
You can only nod, dizzy from her attention and the emotions coursing through your body.Â
When her lips find yours it feels like finally coming home. Soft and delicate, both too scared to push too hard, exploring slowing even as her hand holds your cheek and yours fists in her shirt. Youâve waited years for this, and if you get more of these than it will be worth it. Everything is worth it for the feeling of Emily in your arms.Â
When she pulls away, itâs too soon. You follow her mouth and she concedes and gives you a couple more slow kisses before she stops herself, resting her forehead against yours.
âI just want to say sorry for earlier.â She whispers into the safe space youâve built. âYou were right, I was scared when you got hurt. Daveâs already kicked my ass for my response, you wonât receive any disciplinary action.â
You nod slightly, her forehead moving against yours, âThank you.âÂ
âIt wonât happen again.â She promises, sealing the words with a kiss to your lips.Â
âI know.â You kiss her again, but this time you break out into a yawn midway through. Your momentarily forgotten exhaustion, making itself known.Â
She melts against you, caressing your cheek. âOh, you need to sleep. We can talk more tomorrow. Iâm taking you out for dinner.âÂ
You bite your lip to hide the smile threatening to take over your face, âA date?âÂ
She chuckles, rolling her eyes. âYes, a date. But only if you sleep first.âÂ
âYour wish is my command.â You canât stop the grin from taking over your face anymore. You press a peck to her lips and lead her back towards the door. âIâll see you tomorrow.âÂ
âTomorrow.â She agrees, eyes fluttering over your face as if sheâs committing every aspect to memory. âSleep well.âÂ
âYou too.âÂ
She presses one last kiss to your lips before she opens the door and makes her exit. You close the door quietly behind her, sinking back into it and allowing the giggle to finally escape your mouth.
What the fuck had just happened.Â
Emily Prentiss kissed you.Â
Emily Prentiss has feelings for you.Â
You werenât alone.
You bite your lip and push off the door, finally ready to get ready for bed and praying come morning that this would still be your reality.
taglist: @aburman03
#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss#criminal minds#season 12#gn!reader#cm fic#fanfiction#kt writes#angst with a happy ending#history smothers us#not my gif
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Maybe i just want to lie to myself but let me present you this (I'm curious of what Phil is gonna say, but for now, this)
If Lullah and Chayanne are the kids of death, maybe they've ascended and now, were expecting the lady of death waiting for them, or their papa, or who knows, except that it's none of them who awaits
It's a tall man, with long, pink, soft looking hair, a crown and a blood red cape, looking at them almost indifferent to their presence, though they can barely tell behind the half mask of a pig that covers his face
Chayanne is INMIDIATELY on the defensive side to protect his sister, more like a reflex than a conciously effort because weirdly enough, the presence feels familiar, almost nostalgic but he doesn't want to give in, that's until after a few seconds they hear the man chuckle "Really, old man?"
They share a confused, yet defensive look to each other "Bruh, i'd figure you told them how i look, but no, old man's memory even forgets that"
"Who are you?"Finally spits Lullah, and her brother can't tell wether she's scared or not. The pig guy shakes his head before kneeling just enough to be at their same height, they take a step back and he softeness his eyes. "I'm just someone who took on this kingdom, you know, after abolishing all goverment of man"
That... Sounds awfully familiar, an old story dad told them before to bed when they were younger, a person who they know even if they never met, Lullah speaks before her brother can think, her voice is little, insecure, afraid to be wrong. "Uncle ...Techno?"
He stares at them for a second, but his face doesn't give any signal of what for away. "I guess i'll take that, yes, i'm Technob-
And before he finishes, two little arms are trapping him thightly, the little boy who hadn't utter a word until then just had put together all the stories he so loved to be told, conquering over the world, destroying a country, farming more potatoes than people on earth, those stories about his dad's friend, someone everyone was afraid of but admired just as much, his older brother who he had never met, his hero.
"HUH?" It took Techno by surprise, and he had barely has time to react by the time another pair of arms were holding onto him for dear existence, this, this hadn't been what he expected, but it was a calculated risk, but he had thought Phil's kids to be more careful with strangers.
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Just a silly little idea, its bittersweet i think, i'm not that updated on Phil's lore, but i hope this makes sense
#qsmp#qsmp philza#philza#philza minecraft#qsmp chayanne#chayanne the egg#qsmp talullah#i just realized i tend to write her name wrong darn kt#talullah the egg#i miss techno so much#i miss technoblade#technoblade#short fic i guess?#headcanon#probably?
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SILVER LININGS, GOLD AND SHINING
Summary: Complicated was the first word that came to mind regarding your relationship with one Jeong Yunho. He was your very best friend, your other half, the person you went to with everything. He also was someone you slept with fairly regularly. If anyone asked, the pair of you just said you were the very best of friends. Thatâs all it was, right? What happens when the lines start to blur even more than they already are? Or when others coming into the mix throws everything you thought you knew out the window? Do you let things fall apart or fight for a new normal?
Pairing: Non-idol!Jeong Yunho x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Strong/Mature language (I swear too often it is inevitable with me, sorry đ), sexual content (jokes/implied sexual content/sexual themes), eventual smut, unprotected sex, angst. Minors DNI! More specific warnings will be put on each chapter.Â
Genre: Fluff, angst, best friends to best friends with benefits?, idiots to lovers!!
A/N: Eeeep, hi!! This is a concept Iâve actually had in my noggin for quite a few months now. I havenât written a fic in quite some time, so please be gentle with me. On top of that, this is my first descent into the ATEEZ fic world! I hope you enjoy it!!
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
INCOMING SOON.
#ateez#ateez fic#jeong yunho#ateez x reader#jeong yunho x reader#yunho x reader#yunho smut#ateez smut#jeong yunho fic#jeong yunho x you#jeong yunho x female reader#ateez x female reader#ateez x you#ateez imagines#jeong yunho imagines#yunho fluff#fic: silver linings gold and shining#kt writes
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Kinktober 4
4. Overstimulation, Oviposition/Egglaying, Human Urinal
notes: this was inspired by this incredible fic from @naromoreau, thank you so much for putting naga!crowley into my mind! also this is super monster-fucky. i do not apologise.
afab!reader
biologically this is not at all how snakes work but uhhhhhhh Crowley is a demon so Iâm allowed creative license đ€·ââïž
Crowleyâs been irritable.Â
Snapping, brooding, being generally difficult to be around. You can tell Aziraphale doesnât love it either, but heâs at least had the commodity of knowing Crowley for longer. In fifty years of happy romance between the three of you this is the first time that your demon has ever gotten on your nerves, and you wonât stand for it.Â
âLook,â you say through gritted teeth after heâs barked at you for some unrealised slight, âyouâre in a mood. But it isnât my fault, and it isnât Aziraphaleâs, so stop taking it out on us.â
Aziraphale freezes and looks between the two of you. Crowley raises himself up to his full height⊠and then deflates.
âSorry,â he mutters, running a hand over his face. âYouâre right, it isnât your fault. Iâm justâŠâ
He trails off, and you can tell heâs trying to work out if he should admit something. You close the gap and take his hand.
âCrowley, love. If there's something the matter you need to tell me. Tell us. We can help!â
Is he blushing? Itâs hard to tell, as he turns his face away.
âLook, Iâm just a bit⊠worked up.â
âOh! âŠOh. Well, thereâs no reason we canât assist with that?â
âItâs a bit more complicated than that,â Crowley sighs. You look over to Aziraphale. He clearly has more of an idea of whatâs going on, but knows itâs Crowleyâs truth to tell. âItâs demon breeding season.â
Your cheeks get hot all of a sudden.
âOh, I see. I didnât even realise they had one of those.â
âWell, of course. Otherwise where would new demons come from?â he asks, baffled at your confusion. You suppose you donât have an answer for that.
âSo what do you need to do?â
âWell, usually Iâd just slither downstairs and find someone receptive and weâd ââ
âNo!â you say, suddenly, with such force it makes both of your partners jump. In the future youâll experiment more with other bodies, engage in orgies so you can watch Aziraphale and Crowley be fucked (and become smug in the way itâs never quite as good as when you do it) but for now the idea of your demon being in bed with anyone but the people in this room shreds your heart. âI mean, look. You donât need to do that. Iâll help.â
âWeâll help,â Aziraphale says softly. You know this must be quite a gap for him to bridge, having known Crowley when heâs been going through these heats before, but now knowing him as a lover. Crowley looks between the two of you, strangely touched.
âAre you certain? I donât look⊠Iâm a bit more demonic when I need to mate.â
The idea sends a chill down your spine to straight between your legs.
âThatâs fine,â you say, a little too quickly. Despite it all, Crowley grins.
âAlright. Get to the bedroom. Iâll be right with you.â
đ
You strip down, quickly, excitedly. Secretly youâve wondered about what Crowley looks like when heâs a proper demon for a while. Hellfire caressing your skin? Horns to grab onto? Your mind is going a mile a minute.
You turn to Aziraphale. Heâs removed his cravat and overcoat, and is currently turning up his sleeves to the elbow. You look at him, confused.
âAre you not going toâŠ?â you gesture to your bare body. Aziraphale smiles.
âI think this might be something you want to experience by yourself first, love.â
You open your mouth to ask him what that means, but youâre distracted by the sound of a door creaking.
Crowley slithers in.
No, literally.
Whatever you were expecting, it wasnât this. The top half of him is the Crowley you know. Bronzed skin, copper hair down his back, yellow eyes with blown-wide snake pupils.Â
But that isnât the only part of him thatâs serpentine.
From his hips onwards, he is entirely tail. Black scales rippling as he moves towards you, osteoderms moving with his breath. He looks both entirely like and unlike himself, a strange creation of familiar and not.Â
He is beautiful.
âOh,â is all you can manage from where the rest of your body has frozen. You know it was the wrong move, because Crowley looks deflated.
âYou donât like it,â he says with a sigh, and you immediately feel terrible. What he means is âyou donât like me.â You can hear the sadness tinging his voice. So you step forward, hand out, careful.
âNo, love, itâs not that at all. Just give me a moment to⊠adjust.â
You move forward, unsure how to touch him. Aziraphaleâs voice whispers from behind you:
âGo on, nightingale. He wonât hurt you.â And then, after a beat, when the angel realises what youâre really worried about, âyou wonât hurt him.â
You run your palm along the soft heat of his scales and Crowley sighs, both in relief and in excitement. You take your time, exploring the pattern of him, the curve of his tail. You donât realise but soon heâs begun to curl around you, wrapping you up gorgeously tight in his coils. Soon your legs are totally engulfed by him.Â
âIsss thisss alright, nightingale?â he asks, voice low. You try to move and find that you canât, really, but at the same time youâre fine with it - you know the one holding you is someone you trust with your life.
âVery,â you laugh. You feel someone embrace you from behind and realise Aziraphale has crossed over to you, his chest against your back, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You give yourself over to the strange new feeling of being held like this.
âSo now what?â you ask, looking at Crowleyâs tail, trying to work out how he mates. It doesnât take you long to find it: a slit towards where his groin would be, beginning to leak slick down his scales. You run your fingers over it and Crowley gasps, shuddering. âDo you need me to touch you here?â
Crowley shakes his head, breathless with delighted chuckles.
âNo. Well, I want you to, but that doesssnât have to be part of it.â
You decide that you want to as well. You press into him there, his cloaca, and giggle when he leans forward to rest his forehead on your free shoulder.
âFuckâŠâ he groans.Â
âIf youâre offering,â you say, cheekily. Both your partners huff a laugh, and as you explore deeper into him, you feel something beginning to emerge. You remove your hand to make way, expecting some sort of appendage⊠and to be fair, it is, but not one youâve ever seen before.
âWhatâs that?â you ask, breathless and both bewildered and gleeful.
âThatâsss⊠what I use to lay my eggs.â
A beat passes.
âHmm.â
âSssstill game?â
âCrowley, am I going to get pregnant from this?â you ask with very real concern. A hand comes up to caress your face, a thumb swipes across the plush of your lips.
âNo, love. Iâd need to fertilissse them too, and I wonât do that. I jusssst need sssomewhere to, erm. Push them.â
Well, youâve come this far. Over the last fifty years the three of you have introduced many things into the bedroom: lace, leather, toys. But as your demonic lover says he wants to lay eggs inside you while your angelic one helps you brace for it, itâs nice to know that thereâs still some surprises you can give each other.
You nod, and lay back. Crowleyâs eyes go wide.
âYouâre sssure?â
âYes, love. Of course.â
What leaves his cloaca is a tube, for want of a better term. Itâs just over a foot long and dripping with slickness. It seems to give him pleasure as it releases, you know what he looks like when heâs about to orgasm, and when it twists its way towards you all you can do is relax into his tail, into Aziraphaleâs arms.
The angel threads his fingers through yours and holds you tightly.Â
âYouâll be fine, darling.â
âYou donât seem very surprised about any of this,â you say, breathlessly. A thought occurs to you. âHang on, have you done this before?â
Aziraphale goes bright pink.
âErmâŠâ
âOnce,â Crowley hisses, grinning - have his teeth gotten sharper? No, heâs just grown fangs - âyearsssss ago. Before either of ussss met you.â
âI was a friend helping another friend,â Aziraphale says quickly, a line heâs clearly been using to justify his lust for years. You canât help but laugh at your utterly daft and obtuse lovers, and thatâs good â it loosens you up and allows Crowley to slip inside your cunt.
Youâre already quite wet from the new, explorative play thatâs come so far, but the tube is slick and searching. It surges up inside you, far inside you, further than either of their cocks have ever hit, but it doesnât hurt. Something about what itâs secreting is relaxing your inner muscles and allowing it access into your core. You gasp as you feel Crowley root himself there, and the demon moans.
âFuck. YouâreâŠâ
Youâre too overstimulated to reply, so just nod. Yes. He is, too. Across the width of your shoulders you see Aziraphale kiss Crowley, soft and long.
âYou are so lovely like this, Crowley.â
âGorgeous,â you manage, honestly, and Crowley looks like the praise might make him burst. Settling back into the moment he locks his eyes on yours, serious, sincere.
ââIâm going to ssstart now. It might feel a bit sssstrange, but I promisssse it will be good.â
âIt is,â Aziraphale agrees, shyly. You smile, and nod. You trust them.
Crowley closes his eyes and you see him squeeze. Something travels through his tube, passing through him and up inside you. The strange spherical nature of the object has you gasping, firstly in surprise and then in pleasure. The press of it is strange and illicit and when it pops inside of you, you try to roil; you canât though. Crowley has you too tightly.
âThatâsss the firsssst one.â
âOh my god,â you moan.
âAre you alright?â
âKeep going,â you command, your voice no-nonsense. And Crowley does. Another egg passes from inside him to inside you, pressing through your cervix with no issue to deposit safely. After four of them youâre beginning to feel a bit full. By seven, you can feel the eggs jostling around inside of you, an unusual and filthy intimate slide. Your silky insides are making them the perfect home.
âHow⊠how many are there?â you breathe. Crowleyâs face is drenched with sweat, his eyes rolling back in his head. From his cloaca a fresh stream of cum drips onto the tops of your thighs.
âUsually ten or twelve.â
âTwelve?!â you gasp, not sure how youâll fit those, but willing to try. On cue, another egg presses your vulva apart and nestles in deep.Â
Youâre showing them now, stomach starting to stretch. It doesnât hurt though. It feels wonderful. Youâve never been so full before, your body warm and deliciously thrumming. You look over your shoulder to where Aziraphale is holding you, in some strange approximation of a husband helping a wife give birth. His eyes are firmly fixed on your abdomen, lips slightly apart, cheeks bright red.
âAziraphale?â
âSorry, darling. You just lookâŠâ he trails off, instead choosing to rest his hand on your stomach. You moan as he bumps the eggs inside you, and for a moment youâre swept up in it, and think it wouldnât be so bad to have Crowley make them viable, maybe youâd quite like carrying his clutch, so long as the two of them looked after you like this.
The last two eggs come at once, one right after the other, filling you to the brim. You can feel them taking up the tunnel to your core, hardly fitting in properly. You whine and try to find a way to feel comfortable, but youâre so full, so needy, and theyâre pushing against that sweet spot inside you, and â
You come unexpectedly, an orgasm wracking your body wildly. It takes over your every sense with a crashing wave, your cunt tightening and spasming as Crowley finally withdraws. Youâve never been so stuffed in your life and itâs wonderful.
âHow long⊠How long do they stay?â you manage when your heart is finally at a normal pace again.
âA couple of hoursss, until they realissse theyâre not going to grow. Then theyâll disssssolve.â
âDissolve?!â
âIt wonât hurt, my love,â Aziraphale assures you, hand still protectively on your bump. âIn fact itâs somewhat of an aphrodisiac.â
You moan and collapse into them. Youâre not sure how youâre going to survive this.
@bootlmoth @elleofdragons @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael
#aziraphale x reader x crowley#crowley x reader x aziraphale#Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween#avo's kt 23
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hi
#!thots#đïžđïž#I was gonna post my kuna fic but the dash is kinda dead since itâs a monday I think!!!!#I kno Iâm very late to things but Iâm working on it :â))#I still havenât dropped kt believe it or not ahahahaha#Iâll get to asks one of these days too!!!#but Iâm still technically in semi-hiatus as I gear up to travel for work in a few weeks đ„č
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themb....
#in stars and time#in stars and time spoilers#isat siffrin#isat loop#twohats spoilers#act 6 spoilers#isat spoilers#minhmy art#aoyany fic art#ignore the fact that thats siffrins left side btw#please ignore kt ..pls
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It's 'Make Matt Write' time!
I think it was @williamvapespeare who did this a while ago? I only saved the rules so apologies if I'm misattributing but I finally have a little bit of energy tonight so!
Rules: Send me an emoji corresponding to the WIP and I'll write (at least) 3 sentences for each and share 3. WIPs below:
đœ The one where a CricketCat kiss sparks Payneland
đ The one where Charles meets an amateur theatre group (aka down on my knees 8)
đ The Halloween Payneland fic (aka: the one with trans!Charles & spicy curry)
đ The one where I borrow an OC from @roseganymede95 for the purpose of adding some angst to trans! Charles' life (aka: hello Mark from the codependency world cup, fancy seeing you there!)
#payneland#charles rowland#edwin payne#dbda fanfic#dead boy detectives#matt writes#writing games#Full disclosure I may finish the Mark fic tonight regardless but why not have fun with kt#*it
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De retour des Carpates, par @gerceval et moi-mĂȘme
p'tite illu en collab avec @gerceval pour sa fic d'halloween, d'autres illus devraient arriver plus tard !! enjoy !!! đ§ââïž
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I think some of y'all don't know how to make Mike sympathetic or redeemable or whatever without turning his trauma into internalized homophobia. Like the kid has had SOOO much shit happen to him/in front of him and yet every fic has him basically being a brat bc he can't handle his feelings for Will. He's a traumatized kid he's allowed to be a bit of dick honestly without automatically turning it into a shipping thing
#fandom wank#walkie chatter#ive started to really dislike mentions of the ship in fics bc like#none of mikes canon trauma is ever acknowledged? hes just shit on#and if someone is sympathetic to him kts almost always bc he has feelings for will he cant handle#the way people in this fandom treat the literal children in the show drives me bonkers#no sympathy for them ever if it gets in the way of a ship
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"all this to prove a point?" for the writing prompt
emily prentiss x reader
no warnings. no use of y/n or pronouns for reader.
sentence fic prompt
You rub your hands together, trying your best to generate some heat in your body. Emilyâs car, while lovely, did not provide the warmth of an suv on a usual stakeout and you were seriously regretting your inability to tell this woman no.Â
âAll this to prove a point?â You mumble, the humour fading from your tone the longer you sit in the cold car, the September air biting away at your fingers and toes.Â
Emily sits with her camera pointed at Morganâs apartment, a determined glint in her eye. âBetter personal life than me, my ass. He came straight home and hasnât left the building since!â
You roll your eyes, wishing desperately you were home, âYeah but heâs also not wasting his evening stalking his friend.â
Emily lowers the camera and turns to face you, brows drawn together. âHe canât make accusations like that and not expect me to find proof.âÂ
âWell maybe if you focused a little bit more on yourself and a little less on him then you wouldnât need to prove it and youâd have a private life he couldnât argue with.â Â
She scoffs, âWhatâs that supposed to mean?âÂ
Always so clueless.
You shake your head, annoyed, embarrassed, and frustrated by the woman in front of you. âIâm right here.â
Emilyâs frown only deepens and you blow out a breath, âI invited you out for dinner tonight and instead weâre stalking Morgan and have completely missed our reservations. Every time I try to move us forward you find a way to shut it down.â
âReservations? I thought you wanted to get take-out and head back to one of ours, like usual.â She says with genuine confusion.Â
âNo, I booked that nice Indian place you like.âÂ
âOh,â She responds, dropping the camera firmly in her lap.Â
âLook,â you sigh, âI just need to know, okay? Because maybe Iâm just failing to get the hint and youâre really not interested but I thought we were going somewhere. I like you Emily.âÂ
âYou like me? Tonight was supposed to be a date and instead I blew you off and made us sit and stake out Morgan.â She says slowly, words strangled.
âYes.â
âFucking hell.â She blows out a breath. The car is silent for a moment as she comes to terms with the news and then her gaze focuses back on you. âIâm so sorry. I will make this up to you. Iâm taking you for the best date night starting right now.â
Your eyes widen, âWait so thatâs a-?â
She smiles, wide and happy, âYes, idiot, I like you too. God, why else would I ask you to sit here with me?â
You canât help but smile too. Head in the clouds as Emily puts the camera away and the keys back in the ignition.Â
âReady to go?â She asks, a playful smirk on her lips that your eyes linger on.Â
âThereâs just one thing first.â Because you canât wait a moment longer. Youâve waited years.Â
You lean over the centre console, hand cupping her cheek and pulling her towards you to meet you in the middle. Emilyâs eyes darken instantly, her gaze dropping to your lips before they fall close and her lips softly meet yours.Â
Your body hums, alive as your lips move tenderly against hers. A gentle whine escapes your lips and your body heats up as you regretfully pull away.Â
âMmmhmm,â Emily hums, lips well kissed and eyes dark. âWe can definitely do that again.â
âFood?â You ask, voice strangled. Avoiding the knowing look in her eyes, suddenly shy.Â
âOh, babes, Iâve got the perfect place.â
taglist: @ry-kills-jemily @sapphic-stress @xrainydazeteax @mckennamayfairgoode @enduringalexblake @augustvandyne @themoontaxi @prentissology @alexbllake @ssa-sapphic @storiesofsvu
#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss#criminal minds#criminal minds drabble#emily prentiss drabble#kt writes#fanfic#fanfiction#reader insert#requested#five sentence fics#my gif#quickly written not really edited so please excuse any mistakes!#first post in ages wowoow
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âYour thoughts. I can feel them. Force, Din, you donât even know,â Luke huffs a humorless laugh, âOur bond, itâs⊠itâs weaker than itâd be with another Force user, but I can still see your thoughts when theyâre that strong. I can⊠feel what youâre feeling,â Luke explains, unsure if heâs making any sense. Dinâs hands freeze on his face and Luke feels a wave of both slight embarrassment and undeniable arousal through the Force. âYou could⊠you mean you could see what I was thinking? Just then?â Din asks, his words slow as he puts the pieces together. Luke reaches his gloved hand to wrap around one of Dinâs wrists and he holds his gaze. âYes. All of it,â Luke breathes.
-
Din gets bored during a meeting and doesn't realize that Luke can feel his thoughts.
Yes, all of them.
#THROWING THIS OUT THERE LIKE TOSSING TRASH INTO A GARBAGE CAN THEN GOING TO SLEEP#GOODBYE#I need to be awake in 3 and a half hours. everybody say RIP kt#dinluke#dinluke fic#skydalorian#my writing
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Do you guys remember that one ye olde grill the grid type thing they'd do with teammates? I think there were several versions. One was, I thought, truth or lie. And the other was trivia? I wanna draw vettonso doing so since we'll never get that irl đŁ
#like....an animatic#im too ambitious for what i actually have the energy to do#but gah. imagine.#drawing them w the signs and bells or whatever#and putting their actual voices over kt#imagine.......#at this rate i should rly just write fic#if i ever were to they'd just end up prob being slice of life stuff#but w way too much internal dialog#catie.rambling.txt
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Kinktober 8
8. Sex Pollen/Fuck or Die, Chastity, Sexual Competition
You are going to die.
It didnât take that first time, almost two thousand years ago when they hammered you up, but now? In this bed? Oh, this is it. Youâre going to cum to death.
âOne more, nightingale.â
âI canât,â you choke. The tears have been dry for a long time, you simply have no more left in you. Now youâre just exhausted. The apex of your legs felt like it was on fire three orgasms ago and now youâre at a grand total of eight - four from each of them.
They can be utterly petty when it comes down to brass tacks. Your boys started getting under each otherâs skin over something small, which turned into an argument, which turned into something they wanted to rope you into. And that became âwhich first time did you prefer?â
You cannot answer that question. To compare them is to compare apples to oranges, and you want a whole fruit salad. Making love to them both is so utterly different you couldnât begin to pull at threads because itâs always better together.
They didnât accept that answer, though. So they took you to bed.
Theyâve taken turns fucking you. Youâre so full of come thereâs no chance of it staying inside you, now. Your hole is fucked-out and pliant, your loversâ spend dripping from it in a sinful cocktail. Their mouths, fingers, cocks, cunts - all of them have made you come as they shift into whatever the next challenge is.
Youâre boneless. Youâre exhausted. Youâre sure youâve been taken in every possible way on this bed, all angles, all positions, and you canât do it any more. Youâre not certain if it was Aziraphale holding you up against the wall and pistoning into you that did it, that sex-filled slap of skin on skin; or if it was Crowley pressing his pussy down onto your face while he took deep mouthfuls of your sex which definitely already tasted like both him and the angel.
As Aziraphale moves to put his hand between your legs one more time you hiss and push him away. He immediately retreats.
âDarling?â
âNo more!â you cry, throat raw from fucking and moaning. âNo more. Iâm done.â
And then you can cry again, and suddenly theyâre either side of you, not to rut but to comfort. Aziraphale catches your hand and presses soft, feather-light kisses to it, Crowley caressing your face. A glass of water is summoned and they help you drink it, a cold washcloth pressed to your sex. You hiss and then relax as it begins to cool you down.
âWeâre sorry, nightingale,â Crowley whispers, yellow eyes full of concern and care. You wave it off.
âDonât apologise to me. Iâll be fine. Apologise to each other for being so silly. If youâre going to give me eight orgasms again Iâd much prefer they were collaborative,â you say, laughing huskily. And itâs true. All is forgiven on your part; if you tap out theyâll listen. Crowley and Aziraphale lock eyes across the plains of you, the remnants of their lovemaking.
âIâm sorry, angel.â
âIâm sorry, Crowley.â
They kiss, long and slow and sincere, and you smile.
âThere we go,â you hum, bringing them both to your chest to hold them tightly. âI like fruit salad.â
âWhat?â
âMmm, nothing.â
@bootlmoth @elleofdragons @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael @jelly-terror @larkiesparkie
#crowley x reader x aziraphale#aziraphale x reader x crowley#Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween#avo's kt 23
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