#then this prompt forced my hand

[avirael]

FFxivWrite 2023

Day 05 - Barbarous

Potential Trigger Warning:

While not explicitly described this story still contains topics of physical and sexual violence!

Context: This story describes a part of A'viloh’s captivity by pirates after leaving his home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day and night looked the same in the belly of the ship and all sense of time was long lost, so it was impossible to tell how many days they had already spent shackled in the dark, when finally A'viloh’s personal Calamity struck them.

The pirates were laughing as they entered the cargo room and a few of them were also talking in a slurred voiced. They seemed to be drunk, very very drunk at that. Definitely drunk enough to lay hand on the cargo.

While one of the men picked on an Ala Mhigan girl way to young for any reasonable persons taste, another one roughly pulled A'viloh to his feet. One dirty hand tugged at his loose hair and the other tried to force his chin up. “What do we have here? A pretty kitten?”

A'viloh wasn’t sure if the man had mistaken him for a girl or if he just didn’t care. It didn’t really matter anyway, his intentions were even more obvious than the strong smell of alcohol on his breath.

A'viloh tried to struggle out of the man’s grip but a harsh jap at his hair made him howl in pain.

“Leave him alone!!”

Before he realised what was happening, U'laqa had jumped at the sailor like a wild Coeurl, hissing and hitting and scratching. The pirate was surprised enough to let go of his prey but he still was a lot taller than his opponent. Only Laqa‘s momentum and anger gave him an advantage and made both of them fall to the floor.

Turmoil broke loose and it took the other pirates a moment to tear Laqa away from their comrade. Suddenly a loud voice echoed through the room and everything went silent at once, as the big Roegadyn captain stomped in. “What’s going on here?!”

The attacked sailor jumped to his feet and agrily pointed at Laqa who was held in an iron grip by three other men.

“He attacked me, capn. Didn’t like how I looked at his friend there. See, he left quite a mark.”, he pointed at his face and indeed a big red stripe ran across his skin, from barely under his eye all the way down to his chin.

For a moment the captain seemed to assess the situation and then he loudly addressed all of his shackled cargo at once.

“I warned you! All of you are my property now and I don’t tolerate disobedience!“, then he turned to Laqa and gestured at his men. “Take him upstairs! Let him be a warning example for the others.“

“No!” A'viloh wailed without thinking and threw himself at the men holding Laqa. “No, leave him be!”

Of course he wasn’t strong enough to take on even one of them and so all it needed was one harsh slap across his face to send him to the floorboards at their feet.

The captain scoffed and turned to leave. “Take them both!”

They were dragged upstairs and while A'viloh shivered in fear, U'laqa struggled and cursed. After all this time in the dark belly of the ship the sun felt way to bright and made their eyes burn.

Both of them were pushed to their knees side by side on the deck of the ship and the captain stepped in front of them. A'viloh wanted to plea to him and insist it was all just a misunderstanding but all he got out was a squeaky “please…” he wasn’t even sure anybody heard.

The captain towered over Laqa.

“Do you think I am just going to let you attack my men like this and stir trouble?“, he asked but only got a stubborn look and a growl for an answer.

“You’re punishment shall be a warning to all the others not to cross me! How am I supposed to sell a disobedient kitty like you to anyone? All you accomplished with your little show was proving that you are worthless to me.”

He waved at his men. “You know what we do with mutineers, boys. Tie him up and feed him to the fish. Do with the other as you like, maybe this one is still able to learn some obedience…”

Both of the Miqo'te yelled and struggled but it was in vain. It were just too many even for Laqa to take on all by himself. They held him in place and tied his hands tightly together while he hissed and cursed. Another man brought a long rope and attached one end to the mast of the ship and the other to Laqa’s bonds. Then they roughly shoved him over the deck, past A'viloh and towards the railing.

A'viloh hurled himself at Laqa, trying to cling to him, but the pirates had both of them tightly in their grips. For a moment A'viloh and Laqa were only inches away, trying to get to each other and calling each other’s names.

And then suddenly they both were torn backwards, A'viloh thrown to the floorboards and Laqa pushed over the railing. He hit the water with a loud splash while the rope bound to him suddenly went tight from pulling him after the ship. He tried to stay above water but at this speed it was a futile struggle.

Laqa screamed in despair and in pain and A'viloh wailed and cried his name while some of the pirates pushed him to the ground. All he perceived was their laughter mixed with his boyfriend’s screams and the feeling of their hands all over his body. But after a while he couldn’t tell anymore if the screams were still Laqa’s or his own.

Just like that A'viloh was suddenly left all alone among monsters and from that moment on they would haunt his nights and days forever.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

thinking about a whumpee on a forced march through rough terrain

hands tied in front of them, on foot while their captors are mounted, sleeping out in the open, forced to beg for adequate food and water

maybe they're barefoot, a captured royal in silken robes

maybe they're in a torn suit or soldier's uniform

maybe they were stripped at the start, increasing the exposure to the elements, the humiliation

are they a terrified mess from the beginning, or do they try to endure with dignity? how long before they're stumbling, barely putting one foot in front of the other? how long before they fall?

[whumpdaydreamerx]

Whumper forcing Whumpee to swallow something, whether it be a sedative, poison, maybe even the key to their own chains.

Whumper’s hand covering their mouth so they can’t spit it back out. Whumpee’s half lidded eyes pleading with Whumper as they maintain eye contact. Throat taut and Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as they struggle.

Clamping their eyes shut as they finally give in and whatever it is makes its way down to their stomach.

[waywardsou2]

Summer of Bad Batch Week 5

"Need a hand?"

Word Count: 226

Tags: none, head canons, jokes, cringe

Echo saying "Need a hand" as joke to his family

Hunter: When Echo cracks the joke for the first time, Hunter chokes on his drink. He doesn’t exactly know whether to laugh or not. But he coughs instead. Echo says it, smiles and walks away leaving Hunter to deal with processing his joke.

Wrecker: Wrecker cackles when Echo makes the joke, patting him on the back as the two laugh. It’s not often Echo is in a fun mood so Wrecker takes full advantage of the moment.

Tech: Tech doesn’t get the joke. He simply replies that he doesn’t and doesn’t even bat an eye. It’s only later that he gets what Echo was saying and he chuckles to himself late at night whilst he is still awake on his data pad.

Omega: Omega just stares at him with a smile on her face that slowly breaks into a wider grin until she is laughing, she likes Echo’s humor. She doesn’t see it very often and when she does, she loves every moment. She then proceeds to take Echo’s spare arm and hold it inside the arm of her shirt and makes more jokes with Echo and they run around the ship terrorising their brothers.

Crosshair: Crosshair just stares at him, holds up his own missing arm. Deadpanned he says “Nah I’m good” and then just walks away, trying to hide the smile on his face.

[seldompathic]

"When Shadow catches wind that Sonic is still alive on the Death Egg, he makes a promise to his rival's charge to return the hedgehog in one piece.

As it turns out, he might need a little more tape than he bargained for."

[My browser is freaking out and won't allow me to directly link it from Ao3 so that's the best I can do until I figure it out :')]

It's been a while since I've written a fic, but I HAD to take a crack at Febuwhump this year >:)) Welp, time to make hedgehogs dance around emotions like they're fitted with spikes 💃

[drawthething]

BoblinWeek - Day 2: Tender/Gentle

Damn you prompt for making me draw soft fluff

Y'all know that quote in Everything Everywhere All At Once right?

"In another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you"

I dunno, sounds pretty boblin to me :D

@boblinweek

[pyrepostings]

The metal of the bars bit into whumpee's hip and shoulder as he pressed against it. The stone floor was cold and unyielding, but here he could curl up for as long as he needed to against caretaker.

"What happened, are you ok?" Caretaker had asked, when whumpee entered the jail block.

"No," He wanted to say. "Nothing has been ok for a very long time."

"I'm not injured," He said instead. "I just need to sit with you for a bit."

[wistfulwatcher]

i feel like your roman candle; misty/nat, 8k, explicit

written in response to a series of tumblr erotic prompts (since i ended up getting many more than i was expecting, i have combined the ones that fit!).

prompts used: caught masturbating, torn lace, against the wall, fingers (@igotreallyreallytiredofmyoldurl), “do that again”, hair, panting, love bites, taste, restrained, desperate, tease, on the edge, and in public (if you squint)

read here on ao3

[opens-up-4-nobody]

Okay, I went back through all the drawings I was gonna throw out and cut out the ones I think are not horrible but I don't want them. 90% are things I posted, I think a few are unfinished things I scrapped but still look ok. If you want any of what you see here, send me a message. Let's say $3 per drawing with a 5 pic minimum. It's probably easiest if u circle the pics or name the character u want. First come first served. Payment would be via PayPal.

[ddagent]

((🛎️)) *Crowley voice* I'm back.

Aziraphale and Crowley are strangers who are both stuck in a snowed in cabin.

Or! Regular (angel/demon) Aziraphale and Crowley use the snow as a thinly veiled excuse to justify spending time together. (Nevermind that they could miracle their way out of there)

Maybe they come up with new ways to keep warm and pass the time... 👀

Aziraphale/Crowley | Apocalypse AU | FR12 | 971 words     At the end of the world, strangers Aziraphale and Crowley are snowed-in together at Aziraphale's Soho bookshop. I hope you enjoy!

Crowley woke in a tangle of blankets, the warm weight of the Angel resting along his back. He savoured Aziraphale’s body heat for a moment: the bracket of his thighs encompassing Crowley’s own; a hand slung possessively over Crowley’s hips. There was little material providing a barrier between them – after all, the purpose of this…arrangement was to share body heat during the night. With freezing temperatures outside the Soho bookshop, it was necessary for them to cuddle in a cocoon of blankets, bodies pressed tight against each other. So what if Crowley found himself waking every morning to a pressing erection straining against his boxers? So what if he felt the outline of the Angel’s cock against the curve of his arse, leaving Crowley with an intensely explicit idea of just how well they would fit together?

They weren’t partners. They weren’t even friends. Just strangers, needing each other to survive.

Continue Reading at AO3

[scribbletheartist]

Day 5: Void

[spiderwingz]

dp x rottmnt au where danny falls through a portal and ends up in the hands of big mama where he becomes the next battle nexus champion to fill the hole that lou jitsu left. i’m not sure what happens next but maybe those two make a deal where if danny wins a certain amount of matches, she’ll help send him back to amity park. then the turtles find danny, help him escape, and they’re all becomes friends from there

[definitely-not-iorveth]

39 Roveth? :D

thank you so much for the ask! 😘

39. …because time’s run out.

warning: major character death

Vernon is still asleep when Iorveth rouses, and he stays this way as the elf goes about his morning routine.

Iorveth lets him rest. The past few days had been difficult for his dh’oine, his knee and back pain flaring up, his breath coming short and shallow with every step taken. He had barely eaten or drank anything ever since last afternoon as well.

Perhaps a visitation from a medic is in order? Dh’oine grow old the same way they do everything else, gracelessly and messily, this he knows. It doesn’t mean nothing can be done to ease their aches, though.

He casts another glance at Vernon. He’s still asleep, his face finally peaceful and relaxed.

Iorveth smiles.

He spends the morning working in the garden. The sun is bright and warm, and he is slick with sweat once he comes back inside.

“The strawberries are finally bearing fruit,” he calls from the door frame. “I was starting to think that…” he trails off once he notices that the ground floor rooms are all quiet.

“Vernon?” he calls out cautiously, growing worried when no response comes. Is he still asleep?

He climbs the stairs slowly, the apprehension increasing with every step.

Just yesterday, Vernon had seemed tired, but still spirited. Still so alive. Surely, the past few days have exhausted him, and now he is merely resting. This must be it.

He prays that this is it.

He peers into the bedroom and swallows thickly, worry turning into anxiety.

Vernon hadn’t stirred.

Iorveth spends several heartbeats standing uncertainly in the door frame, then crosses the distance to the bed in a few shaky steps.

“Vernon,” he whispers, dropping to his knees next to the bed and reaching for his hand. “Vernon,” he repeats, even though he knows no response will be forthcoming.

Vernon’s hand is cold and stiff, and Iorveth’s eye stings.

He wasn’t ready.

Dana Meadbth, he wasn’t ready.

Despite all the aches, despite all the difficulties, he had thought they still had years together. But now, their time ran out.

“Bloede dh’oine,” he whispers, his vision growing blurry. “You couldn’t have waited? The strawberries have just borne fruit.”

He pulls himself up slowly, his whole body trembling, and sits heavily on the bed. Then he hides his face in his hands.

He used to be better at dealing with loss, at mourning quietly and modestly. This life has made him soft and complacent, though, and once the tears start flowing, he’s unable to stop them.

At some point, he pulls Vernon closer, cradles him in his arms and softly rocks back and forth as the sobs wrack through his body.

It is late afternoon when he finally quiets.

For several long moments, he simply sits there, staring at nothing.

Then he leans down to whisper into Vernon's hair: “Va fáill, en’ca minne.”

He kisses him one last time.

Then he goes to dig the grave.

(ao3)

[teeth-farie]

A little Adam angst drabble I did earlier this month >:3

Dust. Dark. Decay.

Adam doesn’t think he believes in a god. He thinks he’d believe what his owner did, like a good, obedient toy. He used to think that you were his god. Perhaps he still does. Only a god can be so cruel.

Ever so slowly his battery has been depleting, draining fraction by fraction as he grips onto his pitiful life. He wishes he never got that first taste of sentience, like honey sweet nectar on his tongue that allowed him to feel, to think, to love.

Desecrated. Destroyed.

Adam hates you for not reading the manual. He wished you killed him rather than dismantle his limbs and hide him away in your closet. He’s still awake. He’s still here. Please come back. He’ll be good, he promises, he’ll be better.

The door creaks open, light laughter and giggles. It sends a pit of jealousy and hate into his disconnected stomach. You’re back again, you always are, but this time with another friend. Once upon a time it was Adam snuggled in your bed, all loose limbs and gaping mouth. It used to be him.

But maybe you decided his company wasn’t enough, that a doll couldn’t satisfy your needs anymore, and you found living flesh and blood.

Flesh, flesh, flesh, he can take the flesh, he can take it all, he can be good again-

But he can’t move. He can’t move. And by some cruel fate, his head lies just at the crack of the door, the dim light shining over his eyes. He has to watch as you take your new friend to the bed, pushing them down and crawling over them.

Adam has to watch as you pull their clothes off, he has to listen to them gasp and moan. He can’t look away. He has no choice, he can’t stop it, he can’t do anything.

He’s nothing more than a doll. And dolls don’t want, they don’t speak, they don’t fight. And dolls can’t cry either.

[nostomannia]

It's kinda funny.

I talk about how I don't want people to misunderstand Solita as a character. There's no easy answer to her. Where do the sins of an abuser end and the sins of the victim begin? There's no simple path forward. You can't just separate Solita from Deity, there's a long, convoluted path she has to walk to be able to walk away.

But Solita is also meant to be misunderstood. She's purposely misleading. She's a habitual liar, and not even honest to anyone, not even herself. She's confusing and unpredictable, and shapes herself to what others want her to be. A friend, an enemy, or anything in between. She's approachable and yet unreachable. An actress in life.

[quietwingsinthesky]

thinking about even and jack meeting, because i think it would be hilarious. it’s not that flirtation goes completely over their head, it’s that anything that’s even slightly more complicated than ‘you’re pretty’ misses it’s mark because there are context clues they are not picking up on (autism) and innuendo they aren’t versed in at all (spaceship). which jack could obviously adapt to very quickly, i just think it would be funny for him to throw out something charming and just get sort of. squinted at.