#rwrb prompt

[melisnonstop]

“I miss you and I love you.”

—🧸

— in honor my lovely, Cyn. I love you and I’m so glad this fandom brought us together 💕

—🧸

The soft click of the door shutting behind him echoes through the vast quiet of Kensington Palace. Henry lets his head rest for a moment against the carved oak, his eyes fluttering closed as he breathes in the familiar scent of ancient wood and polished floors. The silence feels heavier here���thick and ancient, a far cry from the lively disarray of home, the heartbeat he’s come to rely on.

But there is no heartbeat here—just the polite indifference of the palace, cold and too grand for comfort.

The day has been long, stretched thin by endless meetings, a forced smile fixed to his face until it ached. And now, alone in his room, the weariness settles into his bones, an old companion he knows too well when he’s in England, when the distance between him and Alex is measured in entire oceans rather than hours.

He begins the mindless routine of unpacking his personal carry on, his fingers moving with the practiced precision of someone used to this lonely ritual. Clothes folded, toiletries stowed. But as he reaches for the jumper Henry had stolen outright before leaving, his hand brushes something unexpected.

It’s soft—a plush body that hadn’t been there before. Frowning, Henry pulls it free from his carry-on, his heart giving a peculiar lurch as he recognizes it. A stuffed Longhorn. Ridiculous, of course. Absolutely ridiculous.

And so completely, wonderfully Alex.

A small smile tugs at Henry’s lips as he holds the toy between his hands, fingers tracing the horns and the comically wide eyes. He can picture Alex picking it out with a mischievous grin, some cheeky comment about Henry needing a piece of Texas wherever he goes. It smells faintly of Alex’s cologne, too—just enough to make Henry’s chest ache with the familiar longing that’s never too far away when they’re apart.

He sinks onto the edge of his bed, cradling the Longhorn in his lap as if it were something infinitely precious. It’s silly, childish even, but there’s comfort in it—an absurd sort of joy that cuts through the dull, persistent ache of missing Alex.

Without thinking, he squeezes it—perhaps a touch too hard, because suddenly Alex’s voice breaks the silence, soft and warm, like he’s right there in the room.

“Hi, baby. I love you, and I miss you. I can’t wait for you to come home.”

Henry freezes, his heart stumbling in his chest. For a moment, it feels like he’s stepped outside of time, suspended in the tender echo of Alex’s voice. It’s so achingly familiar, that honey-smooth drawl, the way it curls at the edges of the words as though Alex is smiling when he says it.

"Hi, baby."

God, how those words settle like sunlight against his skin.

"I love you, and I miss you."

His throat tightens, an uninvited lump of emotion building behind his ribs. How could something so simple—something so utterly Alex—leave him feeling both weightless and tethered at once? A single breath of home in this cavernous, cold palace.

He presses the Longhorn to his chest, his fingers curling into the soft fabric as he listens to the message again, savoring the warmth in Alex’s tone, the certainty threaded through every word.

“I can’t wait for you to come home.”

Henry exhales slowly, eyes fluttering shut as he allows himself to sink into the moment.

This, Henry thinks, is love. It’s a stuffed Longhorn nestled in his lap, whispering promises across the miles. It’s the quiet comfort of knowing that no matter how far he goes, no matter how alone the world might make him feel, Alex will always find a way to reach him.

Even here. Even now.

A smile pulls at his lips, slow and tender, as Henry presses the toy closer. He lies back against the pillows, exhaustion melting away in the warmth of Alex’s words, still echoing in his mind.

"Hi, baby. I love you, and I miss you."

He reaches for his phone between blinks, his fingers moving with a practiced familiarity, navigating to Alex’s contact with the speed of muscle memory. The small FaceTime icon glows blue under his thumb, and he presses it without hesitation.

The phone rings once. Twice. And then—there he is.

Alex’s face fills the screen, slightly grainy from the signal but no less perfect to Henry’s eyes. His hair is messier than usual, glasses on his face and a small ink blot on the corner of his mouth, but Alex’s grin is unmistakable, all teeth and warmth, and Henry’s heart stumbles at the sight of him.

“Hey,” Alex says, his voice cutting through the remaining distance like a balm, like coming up for air. “Miss me already?”

Henry’s chest tightens, his heart swelling with a rush of affection so potent it leaves him breathless for a moment. He smiles, soft and slow, eyes tracing the lines of Alex’s face as though he could memorize them all over again.

“Hi, my love,” he murmurs.

And in that moment, with Alex’s face glowing softly on the screen and the stuffed Longhorn tucked securely in his arms, Henry feels something inside him settle. He is home, in the only way that matters.

[karlakattz]

A motor roared up behind them, and turning around, Stiles expected one of those fancy, black British Rolls Royce cars, but surely not a sleek Camaro. Stiles stopped, everything, including breathing, because that was not just some chauffeur behind the wheel. It was Derek himself, maneuvering the car swiftly into the parking lot. And then Stiles just stared when the Prince got out, and fucking hell, he wore damn aviators to his tailored gray suit.

It was the first time he saw the omega since…

"Our photographer will take a picture right away before we get in," Boyd informed them before Stiles even had a chance to greet Derek.

One moment, Stiles tried to process the words; the next moment, he was already being steered to where the photographer stood, motioning for the two men to step on the marks of black tape on the floor.

"Closer together!"

Derek put his arm around Stiles' waist, and the memory of his hands on Stiles' body was all too vivid, and he'd take it to his grave that he had jerked off to the ghost touch of Prince Derek more than once in the past week.

He smelled just as awesome as Stiles had savored it.

And God, he needed to talk to Derek so badly about what had happened and what it meant. If it meant something at all. But there were security guards around, Boyd and the photographer, and it wasn't the right time or moment to talk.

Derek was still wearing his sunglasses and hadn't even looked so far at Stiles.

It was awkward to say the least.

"So, uh, nice car," Stiles muttered because he had to say something to break this weird silence. He hated silence. "I didn't know Queen Mum allows you to drive a non-British car! "To be honest, Stiles hadn't known that members of the Royal family had driving licenses in the first place. He always imagined them in limousines, with drivers.

Derek shuffled a bit closer. "Queen Mum was my late grandmother." He removed his aviators and looked at Stiles with his green-hazel-golden kaleidoscope eyes. "And I like pretty things from the US."

Stiles' heart leaped.

"Look over here, please."

A flash blinded Stiles. Pretty sure he gaped like a fish in that picture.

I took RWRB, made it Sterek, threw in a fake relationship and a bit of mpreg. 🫠 Read the fic here.

[sauraunderscore]

PROMPT

RWRB AU in which Henry is following his grandfather's long line in the army -his brother is already captain or something, and he's sent to the USA in one of those military training exchanges they usually do.

Either Alex is another soldier or the rebel son of an USA captain.

Possible character study and situations for the racism & homophobia in the military.

Bonus points for Henry being pilot.

Extra if it's explicit and there's a spicy scene in the barracks.

It needs to be titled "Don't ask, don't tell"

[accol-fics]

Are there fics out there where Ellen Claremont played by our queen Uma Thurman is secretly a Bride-style assassin? There should be some.

[alittlefrenchtree]

Requiring some FirstPrince inspiration!

If you have some ideas (for a domestic scene, very normal, very daily life) you would like to see written, could you drop it somewhere for me to see? Anything you like and that can be set in the brownstone.

thank youuu 🙏💜

(here is a gif to make you stop your scrolling and have your attention long enough for you to read my post)

[ninzied]

pieces

they fight. brownstone era. for @dreamsinthewitchouse. ~1k.

It starts out so small that Henry hardly realizes what it’s become until it’s too late. He doesn’t mean to sigh when Alex gets home and sets his things down at the table, next to the dinner Henry’s spent hours making only to then watch grow cold. But then Alex’s apology—which Henry is certain he means but rather wishes hadn’t been needed to start with—feels just sharp enough that Henry is hurt by it, and the hurt comes out all wrong.

It comes out angry, and maybe a little bit selfish, and Alex is stretched thin as it is, Henry knows this, yet once he’s made it about himself it’s like a disease and he can’t seem to stop it from spreading.

And then he hears Alex say that he can take the couch, and Henry goes so still it’s as if Alex just dealt him a physical blow. They’re fighting, he realizes. It’s one dinner, which Alex hadn’t even known he was missing, and now it’s come to them sleeping apart because Henry’s little feelings got wounded?

“No,” says Henry. “Absolutely not.”

Alex rubs tiredly at his eyes. “Are we really going to fight about this, too?”

“No,” says Henry hotly, “because this part is not up for discussion. You’re the one with exams tomorrow, so I’ll be taking the couch tonight, thanks.”

“Hen,” Alex starts, but Henry walks past him into the kitchen. He’s hanging on by a death grip to his very last shred of dignity when all he wants to do is let go.

.

His cloudy mood dissipates halfway through doing the dishes. Still, it takes with it more than just anger, draining him totally, leaving him not so much clear-headed as feeling like he’s all hollowed out.

Henry knows he’ll get no sleep tonight.

It’s not the couch itself, of course; it’s that even after all this time, sleep still doesn’t come easily without Alex there beside him. It’s David worrying at Henry’s feet, making distressed little snuffling sounds. It’s that no matter how small the fight, or how infrequently they do it, each time it never fails to awaken in Henry all the old fears that Alex will leave him. That Alex will finally decide he’s had enough of—well, all of this. All of Henry.

He tries not to think it too often. It’s not fair to Alex, and to the beautiful life that they’ve built together, but when 3AM comes and the semi-delirium of no sleep sets in, those fears are harder to write off as not real.

He wants nothing more than to go to Alex. To hold him and tell him how sorry he is, that he’s asked for more than he has any right to. That loving someone like Henry is neither simple nor easy, he knows, and he wants to be better, he will be better, for Alex. But that would be letting his fears speak for him, saying he’s less than, that the broken things in him are simply not meant to be loved.

Henry can do better than that. Alex would never stand for such talk, and perhaps more importantly, Henry will not stand for it either.

He tosses and turns, and lets the fears have their moment, looming large there in the dark. And then he gathers a blanket around his shoulders and heads up the stairs.

.

The light is still on in their bedroom. Henry can hear the flip of a page, the faint scratch of a pen from behind the door. He closes his eyes and pictures Alex at their desk, a hand through his hair, his forehead creased in concentration. Henry’s soothed by the routine of it, the familiar touches of a life with a person he knows so well and loves more than it should be possible to love another person but isn’t.

And he owes it to Alex, to let Alex love him back the same way.

Henry tucks himself in right there in the hallway, content just to know that Alex is there, and to not demand anything more of him than that. The fears retreat to their shadows once more, back to a smaller haunting—always there, a part of Henry, but a part that he knows Alex loves, just as fiercely as the rest of him, always.

.

He’s not certain how long he’s dozed for, but the next thing he knows is the feel of Alex’s lips on his brow. The soft way he murmurs, “Baby. Scoot over. David, you too. How long have you been here? Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“Mm.” Henry cracks a bleary eye open as Alex drapes something heavy around them. His arms encircle Henry next, and it’s hard to think of a reason to move now that it feels like they’re both where they should be. David noses his way beneath the covers, shifting down to curl at their feet. “Love, are these our bed linens?”

“Yeah,” says Alex, nuzzling into Henry’s neck. That one simple touch is enough to make Henry’s entire chest ache with relief. “Was going to sneak onto the couch next to you. This works too though. Fuck, I missed you.”

“We shouldn’t stay on the floor,” Henry tells him, burrowing closer, breathing him in. His words are half-muffled against Alex’s chest. “You need rest, in an actual bed. You’ve worked hard and you deserve the world to show for it.”

“Don’t need any of that,” says Alex. “Just you. I will fight you on that part,” he adds when Henry opens his mouth. “I’m so pissed at myself that you thought for even a second any of those things could matter to me more than this.”

“No, I’ve been selfish,” frowns Henry. “I’ve been too focused on what I want, and what makes me happy, and—”

“Good,” says Alex. “It’s about fucking time.”

And then he leans in and kisses Henry like it’s everything Alex wants too, Henry defending himself, Henry fighting for what he wants and deserves. Henry, knowing he’s loved, and loved, for all that he is and never for a single thing less than that.

[repmet]

@rwrbmovie & @rwrbsource’s rwrbweek: Day 4 | Little Detail

[thesleepyskipper]

Six Sentence Sunday!

Glad to be back and glad to be writing again! The last few weeks have been draining and exhausting from life and I felt like I didn't even remember how to write.

Thank you to all of you wonderful friends who tagged me in all the writing games over the last couple weeks, I do really appreciate it! I should have the spoons now to write and participate and enjoy your snippets too!

Many thanks to @suseagull04, @onthewaytosomewhere and @cha-melodius for today's tags!

@flufftober is right around the corner and I'm excited to have some stuff to share!

Henry’s sky blue eyes lock in on him and Alex completely loses his breath. Somehow he is even more beautiful in person. Alex has no clue how it’s even possible, but he’s awestruck and he knows he’s staring.

Sparks fly. Every spark that exists in the universe has somehow converged onto this specific spot at this specific second, and he feels each one of them in every cell of his body. Nerve endings he didn’t even know he had were buzzing.

Open tag for anyone who wants to share (and I will definitely be checking out your snippet so please tag me!) and I apologize for my excessive tag list below the cut 😂

@welcometololaland, @cricketnationrise, @myheartalivewrites, , @kiwiana-writes, @firenati0n

@rmd-writes, @celeritas2997, @noahreids, @alasse9, @14carrotghoul

@three-drink-amy, @stereopticons, @smblmn, @leaves-of-laurelin, @lilythesilly

@nontoxic-writes, @indestructibleheart, @maxbegone, @orchidscript, @piratefalls

@anincompletelist, @anchoredarchangel, @emmalostinwonderland, @littlemisskittentoes @sparklepocalypse,

@clockwrkpendrxgon, @run-for-chamo-miles, @tinyarmedtrex, @getmehighonmagic, @henryspearl

@judasofsuburbia, @heysweetheart-writes, @blueeyedgrlwrites @bitbybitwrites, @iboatedhere

@jmagnabo92, @wordsofhoneydew, @zwiazdziarka, @theprinceandagcd, @miss-minnelli

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @dragonflylady77, @agame-writes, @nocoastposts, @lightningboltreader

@inexplicablymine, @na-dineee, @notspecialbabe, @benwvatt, @cactusdragon517

@onetwistedmiracle, @ninzied, @porcelainmortal, @aforgottennymph, @caterpills

@kordeliafawkes, @stratocumulusperlucidus, @idealuk, @stellarmeadow, @eusuntgratie

@lizzie-bennetdarcy, @dreamtigress, @duchessdepolignaca03, @tailsbeth-writes,

@priincebutt, @stellarmeadow, @softboynick, @fullsunsets, @na-dineee

@firstprincefairytale, @rachelica9, @readstheroom, @anti-homophobia-cheese, @thighzp

@mikibwrites, @swearphil, @flowerfan2, @rarelyrad, @letloverule1111

@endlesstwanted, @glasshouses-and-stones, @swoonoveryou3, @thedramasummer, @jackzimmermemes

@miharaikko, @kj-bee, @dani-dabbles, @henryhenhazza, @firstprincehornyramblings

@sophie1973, @msmarvelouswinchester, @henrys-vodka-shot-glass, @shadegarden, @imintomakinghistory

[iboatedhere]

Hi friend! Thanks for asking for prompts!

I’d love to request a fic based on a prompt from the June list - Peaches 🍑 (any interpretation you like 😏). Can’t wait to see what your awesome brain comes up with! ❤️❤️

start with a little inspo

"I'm having a full-on crisis."

"Henry, darling," Pez says over the line, "you'll have to be a tad more specific. You open a conversation this way at least three times a week." 

"This is the most urgent. This is the one that will have me change my name, grow a beard, and flee to the woods. It was lovely knowing you, Percy. Truly."

"I'm not entirely sure you could pull off a beard," Pez says. "Too blond and too pale. It'll just blend right in."

Henry groans.  

"Perhaps plastic surgery," Pez offers. "Although it would be a shame to cut up that gorgeous face." 

"Percy—."

"I'm sure I could find you an excellent surgeon. Let me make a few calls."

"Please go ahead and do that because I'm hanging up."

"I'm sorry, I'll stop," Pez says with a laugh that negates his promise. "Tell me what's wrong. You'll feel better once you do."

"I might have, accidentally, slightly, sexually harassed a politician on Instagram."

"That's quite the adventurous statement," Pez says after a moment. "Care to elaborate for me, Haz?"

"I don't even know where to start."

"The beginning, love." 

"You know how dreadful I am at social media."

"Indeed. If I had a penny for every time you accidentally posted a screenshot or sent me a DM filled with gibberish, I would never need to tap into my trust fund."

"Yes, well, there's this man that I follow—."

"The politician? Haz, if you dare tell me that you've taken an interest in some old, white dolt—."

"He is none of those things. He's quite young, and I believe he's said his father is Mexican—."

"Oh, you believe?" Pez says as if he already knows Henry has hung on to his every word since he followed him. 

"He's brilliant," Henry continues, "and beautiful."

"But still a politician."

"He's pro all the correct things, Pez. Nobody is perfect, but he's as close as I've seen."

"And you sexually harassed him?"

"Slightly. Accidentally. And via Instagram, which I know doesn't make it any better."

"What is his name?"

"Unimportant."

"You do realize I can find him by looking through your followers. It's the price you pay for only following one hundred people."

"I like to keep my feed neat and organized. Plus, the fewer people I follow, the less of a chance I have of embarrassing myself."

"And yet here we are."

"Indeed."

"Henry George Edward James Fox. What in the world did you do?"

"Well. He posted this photo to his stories, and I meant to scroll past it—."

"Did you?"

"I meant to screenshot it," Henry admits. 

"That's more like it. Do continue."

"I meant to screenshot it and then move on—."

"Wank off."

Henry hangs up. If Pez isn't going to be helpful, then they don't need to have a conversation. 

Thirty seconds later, Pez calls him, and Henry picks up against his better judgment. 

"Is his name Alex Claremont-Diaz?"

"Pez!"

"He's not hard to find. Running for New York's 11th Congressional District. Originally from Austin, Texas. Yee-haw."

"Pez, please, I'm dying."

"Moved to Manhattan to attend NYU law, then relocated to Brooklyn where he decided to try his hand at politics. Seems to volunteer a lot and posts quite a few thirst traps. I'm telling you, Haz. A man in a well-fit suit is a thousand times sexier than one with his shirt off."

"Did you look at his stories?"

"Looking now. A photo of the Brooklyn Bridge. Basic.  A Goldendoodle in the park. Adorable. A little photoshoot. Oh. Oh my. I see."

Henry hums, knowing precisely what Pez is looking at. 

Congressional hopeful, Alex Claremont-Diaz, facing sideways toward the camera in a jumper and khaki pants. 

"Certainly has a body on him, doesn't he? What did you accidentally say to him?"

"I didn't say anything. But I somehow sent him the peach emoji."

There's a moment of silence and then bubbling laughter. "Oh, Henry," he wheezes. 

"I don't know, my finger slipped on the screen or something, and then that little bar came up on the bottom, and the peach emoji auto-filled. I tried to delete it, but I hit send instead. Then I tried to delete that, but I couldn't, and now I'm panicking."

"Oh, darling."

"I don't know what to do. I'm so embarrassed I could die."

"I do think you're overthinking this a bit. The hopeful congressman did post that photo for a reason."

"So you think he was looking for this kind of reaction?"

"He's young, gorgeous, and very clearly knows it if he's taking GQ photo shoots and posting them to his socials. Plus, the angle of this shot…I think it's safe to say he got plenty of peaches sent his way."

"Oh," Henry says, doing an awful job of hiding his disappointment. He spends entirely too much of his time thinking about this man, and in return, he's barely a blip on his radar. "Okay. I suppose it's not as dire as I thought."

"As long as he doesn't block you, I think you're just fine."

"Okay," Henry says again as his phone dings. He pulls it away from his ear and looks down at a new Instagram notification. 

"Oh bloody hell," he breathes when he realizes what he's looking at. "It's a message from him."

Pez gasps. "What does it say?"

Henry holds his breath as he opens Instagram. "He sent me a photo of myself. That ridiculous one you made me post from during our trip to The Hamptons."

"The one in your swimsuit? By ridiculous, you must mean how ridiculously hot you looked. Posting that was a public service."

"I beg to differ," Henry says as another message appears. "Oh. Oh."

"What?" Pez asks. "What?"

"He sent the eggplant emoji. What does that mean?"

"Oh, Henry," Pez says, "love. It means you'll have quite the story to tell the grandkids."

[rmd-writes]

16 and firstprince from your prompt list? ❤️🫠 hehe

16. resting their hand on the other's thigh, slowly stroking it

“Alex.”

Alex smiles innocently. There’s a beat, and then he starts again. His fingers flex lightly before he starts stroking his pinky up and down the seam of Henry’s trousers.

“Alex. I’m driving.”

“It’s not my fault that my boyfriend looks super fucking hot when he’s driving.” His hand creeps higher up Henry’s thigh.

“You’re a complete reprobate.” Alex’s finger sweeps upwards, dangerously high. When Henry chances a glance at him, Alex bats his eyelashes. “No.”

“I didn’t ask you anything.”

“You didn’t have to. I’m not changing my stance on what you so elegantly referred to as ‘road head’.”

[miharaikko]

In the heart of Wales (Yng nghalon Cymru)

Happy @flufftober • Day 2 • “Left. Other left!”

Oneshot • Rated GA • 3K words • Read on AO3

Pairing: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor

Summary: Henry laughed; the sound was warm and comforting. “We’re still on track. Though... you might want to take the next left.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “What, this one?”

“Left! No, Alex, left! The other left!” Henry exclaims, laughing despite his growing panic as Alex threatens to veer off in the wrong direction.

Alex then grinned, satisfied with the way he was testing Henry’s patience.

Rolling his eyes, yet with a smile still at the corners of his mouth, Henry said. “If you want to drive us off a cliff, by all means, go ahead and don’t listen to me.”

“Fair enough.” Alex steered the car left at the proper turn and glanced sideways with another bright grin. “Happy now, Your Royal Highness?”

Or: Alex and Henry get lost in the heart of Wales

Tagging my flufftober buddies under the cut! 💕

@firenati0n @theprinceandagcd, @caterpills, @kj-bee, @exitariel000 @shesfromboston, @msmarvelouswinchester, @dani-dabbles, @thesleepyskipper

[eusuntgratie]

💗 x firstprince 😊

💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft

read on ao3

Alex wakes up over-warm, tucked tightly against Henry’s back with his hand wrapped around his arm. He relaxes his hand, scared he’s been holding on too tightly, but Henry makes a small noise and wriggles further into his body, so Alex holds him closer, a smile tugging at his lips. He knows that eventually they’ll spend enough nights twined together that Alex’s subconscious won’t fear Henry slipping away, but for now Henry doesn’t seem to mind the way he clings. Maybe he needs the reminder that Alex wants him to stay as much as Alex needs the reassurance he’s still here.

Alex stays close but sits up enough to watch him, greedy for this version of Henry, soft and relaxed and here and his. His face is slack and there’s a bit of drool dried on his face and his hair is sticking up in weird places and he’s never more beautiful than when he’s like this. Just Henry. Not a prince, not a public figure, not anything but a beautiful boy in Alex’s bed, fully seen and fully loved and fully himself. Henry hums and shifts in his arms, spinning so he can look up at Alex with a beautiful, blinding smile.

“Hey, baby,” Alex croons, quiet enough not to break the moment. “You sleep good?”

Henry nods and reaches a hand up to thread through Alex’s unruly curls. He hasn’t cut his hair in a while and Henry can’t seem to keep his hands out of it.

Alex can’t help but kiss him when Henry smiles at him like he’s everything, like nothing could make him happier than waking up in Alex’s arms. Their lips are a little dry but a thrill runs through him when he presses them together, just like always. Alex knows what a privilege it is to see him like this, to know the real Henry, to be trusted with that. He runs his fingers over Henry’s cheek but gets distracted by his lips again, running his fingers over them until Henry tugs him back down by the hand in his hair.

He presses his lips to Henry’s, runs the tip of his nose up the length of Henry’s, kisses the corner of his eye and nuzzles at his hair. Henry makes a happy little noise, kisses his cheek and pulls him back to his lips. Alex means to keep it soft and light, at least until he can sneak away to brush his teeth, but when Henry licks over his lips he crumbles like a house of cards, always all too eager to give Henry whatever he wants.

Henry’s mouth tastes sour, like sleep and something a little sharp from where his mouth fell open while he was sleeping, but Alex doesn’t mind at all. The knowledge that Henry can actually sleep when he’s in his arms, the wonder of waking up with Henry’s skin warm against his, here in his arms instead of an ocean away where Alex can’t get his hands on him, fills him with a joy and contentment that outshines everything else.

He kisses Henry gently, hushing him when he his hands start to move a little faster, when he pulls at Alex like he can’t get enough. “Shh, baby,” he tells him, “it’s alright, we’ve got time.” They both ignore the way Henry’s eyes go a little watery at that, and spend the morning taking their time with each other, soft and sweet and slow.

[sauraunderscore]

Vampire Henry / Tribute Alex PROMPT

In an alternative world where vampires rule, the Mountchristen-Windsor Clan have been Kings since memory holds.

The cruelest Queen is Mary Mountchristen, who installed the Tribute on humans a thousand years ago: every ten years, the most intelligent person in their world would be given to the vampires as soon as they turned 21. That means they never ran out of the richest blood.

If Humans don’t comply, there will be hell to pay. Chronicles still speak of the massacre Mary Mountchristen and her Clan perpetrated when they were given a dispensable intelligence once. Humans have never tried to cheat on their Tributes again.

Nora Holleran is the most intelligent person of this generation, and as soon as she turns of age, she gets ready to be given as a Tribute. She is not afraid, but she wanted to marry June Claremont-Díaz, and she knows she will never return from the vampires' realm.

Before Nora is given away, she and June get secretly married—and that is when Alex decides he is intelligent enough to be a Tribute himself. And without a word, he walks into the Vampire territory while Nora and June celebrate their wedding night.

He will turn 21 in a week, so he is sure the vampires won't mind having the second most intelligent person sooner than the first.

Mary is still a racist who hates that either a black woman or a brown man is the most intelligent humans: “Whatever happened to the Einsteins and the Oppenheimers of your world?” Alex is so furious his blood boils.

Henry has never come to receive the Tributes. Ever since his father drank poisoned blood and died, and his mother walked into the sun, Henry has done his best to survive with animal blood. Mary doesn’t even speak with him (or about him) because she considers Henry a failure.

Henry asks for Alex to be accepted as a Tribute.

@rwrbprompts

[porcelainmortal]

Freaktober (Ficlet) Friday

✨ Come one, come all, to my fun and freaky wheel of smut! ✨

The urge to participate in Kinktober was strong, but I was also nervous and I'm busy as hell this month. I also haven't done Ficlet Fridays in a long while, so I decided to combine them with a Halloween twist!

The rules: Spin 🪄🎡 The Wheel of Mayhem 🧿⚡️ and send me the prompt you received along with a RWRB pairing! For the purpose of Freaktober, I will be focusing on FirstPrince, but if the muse gets freaky enough, I might be willing to write for other RWRB couples, especially if I get the same prompt twice. These ficlets could be drabbles or they could expand to more than 1k words; I'm keeping definitions very loose here. Also, I have a vacation coming up, so depending on how many I get, these could take me a few weeks to finish. Please be patient and I will have them all posted by Halloween! (If I don't get many, I'll repost this next Friday) Feel free to use my wheel or take this idea and make your own Wheel of Mayhem! I stole this idea (with permission) from the lovely @cactusdragon517. 💕

Thank you for the Ficlet Friday tag today, @tailsbeth-writes!

Tagging some people who might want to spin the wheel and send me a prompt.

@anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @bitbybitwrites @caterpills @cricketnationrise

@cha-melodius @firenati0n @faketrex @getmehighonmagic @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

@iboatedhere @inexplicablymine @kiwiana-writes @myheartalivewrites @onthewaytosomewhere

@priincebutt @rmd-writes @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow @thesleepyskipper

@theprinceandagcd @thighzp @wordsofhoneydew and as always, an open tag!

[alittlefrenchtree]

AU firstprince prompt (feel free to take it if you’re inspired!)

[ninzied]

the old guard firstprince au when