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tonowarii · 2 years ago

Note

Hi, can i ask for a jake sully x reader that's just full of fluff? 😭😭

I can't read any jake fics without it having smut

as much as i would like to [redacted] his [redacted] until he's [redacted, and redacted] i have to agree 👍🏻

Smitten

jake sully x gn! omaticaya! reader

wc: 0.6k

warning/s: jake being adorable as hell wtf, fluff, probably ooc- idk

You didn’t know what was happening with Jake as of late.

If you had to guess, maybe he was bitten by a stray lovebug in one of his many trips in the forest.

Because why the hell is he being so clingy now?

Okay, to be fair, you liked- loved it even, but hey, you had duties to do and it certainly didn’t help that there was a man-child following you around.

Now, when Jake had heard you’ve got a clear schedule, he quickly made the decision for you to spend time with his mate.

“Jake,” you laugh. “What’s gotten into you, huh?”

Jake looks down at you, a toothy grin spreading across his face, even though you couldn’t see him since your back was laid against his chest, your head fitting right against his neck as his arms were wrapped around you.

“Can’t I shower my mate with love? I feel like I haven’t shown you how much I truly love you.”

You laugh again, shaking your head. “Trust me, you’ve shown me enough in a span of a week- I mean- who brings me triple gifts in a week, ma Jake?”

Jake shyly chuckles. “You deserve it baby, you’ve done so much.”

“I’m doing so much just by breathing?” You teased, rolling your eyes, Jake really could find ways of praising you- surely enough when you’ve done something as to take a simple step forward, he’d be there cheering you on. The thought makes you laugh out loud, curiosity filling Jake.

“What’re ya laughing about?” He asked.

“Nothing, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You had expected to cuddle in silence, enjoying each other’s warmth but Jake just couldn’t sit still as he was now grabbing your hand, trapping it in his much bigger one.

“I like the way your hand fits in mine.” He suddenly said, now toying with your hand.

Getting caught off guard, you blush squirming in your place but Jake’s hold on your hand was firm.

You were going to be the death of this man.

A few days passed again and you found yourself entering your shared tent, back aching from the tasks you had finished. To your surprise, you already find Jake inside. His head perks up and finds your tired form.

“What happened to you?” He asks, springing up on his feet but you paused him with your palm outstretched as you made your way towards your bed, flopping down on your stomach as you felt the bed dip as Jake sat back down.

“Tired.” You huff.

Jake’s lips pursed into a thin line before an idea pops up in his head. Your ears pick up a few shuffling noises, making you furrow your brows and wonder what Jake was doing.

You didn’t dare question further when you felt his huge, rough hands press on the tense muscles on your back, kneading and soothing. A smile automatically crawled its way onto your face as you sighed in relief, moving so Jake could get a better angle as he massaged you.

Jake could hear your sounds of relief and he chuckles, heart filling at the thought of you getting to finally relax as he feels your muscles even. “Feeling better?”

“Absolutely.” You whine out making him chuckle further as he resumes his actions.

After that, you certainly felt a hundred times better. Turning around on your back, you sit up to meet Jake, you press your lips to his shoulder before placing your head against it. “Thank you, Jake.”

“Anything for you, darling.”

You feel Jake’s lips press on the top of your head as you relished in his warmth, arms moving to wrap around him as you sigh in content.

Jake enjoys this, nuzzling further onto you as he laughs.

“Who’s smitten now?”

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satashiiwrites · 2 years ago

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morning writing drafts

I should be working on sleepless in la.

Big SHOULD there.

Instead, I think i’ve come up with a name for a 911/mass effect mashup. And been graphic editing because who wants to finish their rom com that should have been done already?

*sigh*

Title: The First Spectre (aka previously known as untitled 911/Mass Effect space opera slowburn) chapter 1 vs prologue

Fandom: 911, Mass Effect Trilogy

Pairing: endgame Buddie (MShenko equivalent). Assume anything else is fair game until we hit ME3 territory because i’m totally making Taylor into Miranda and Abby is going to be Liara.

Tags/warnings: i’m still not committing to writing this monster length fic(and I do mean monster length if I go for it—like 600k of the slowest of slow burns). In the meantime i’m evidently writing a beginning, a divorce-era horizon disaster, and can clearly picture the catalyst firing/’don’t leave me behind’ scene in all its angsty goodness. Author may be in deep trouble. First draft. Assume Eddie=Kaidan Alenko and Buck=MShep. Chimney is totally Joker. Use of military terms that may confuse some audiences and be completely inappropriate as author does not have a military background and just reads too many generation kill fics.

Tagging because they asked @shortsighted-owl. If you would like to be tagged for any updates or snippets from this one please let me know.

Lieutenant Edmundo Diaz—known to his family as Eddie or everyone else as Lt Diaz or just Diaz—sat in the copilot’s chair on the bridge listening to Flight Lieutenant Han, aka Chimney, grumble about their newest mission orders. Eddie thought that the grumbling was mostly for show—being assigned to work under Captain Robert Nash was a coveted position and good for your career. The Normandy (known also by it’s engineering designation as SR-118) was a new type of freighter that was a joint project between the Alliance and the alien council races. There was no ship faster or with better handling anywhere in the fleet.

Chimney really should be happier he was getting the privilege of flying the equivalent of the most luxurious, high tech interplanetary transport ever made. Instead, he was grumbling about scuttlebutt that he’d heard while getting his clearance physical from Dr. Wilson.

“Did you hear who you’ll be working with?” Chimney asked Eddie, implying that Eddie should be unhappy about his new CO.

“I heard I’d be working with Commander Buckley and there’s nothing to say. He’s a good soldier.”

“A good soldier?!? You heard what happened on Akuze right? That he’s the only one who survived?”

“It means he’s capable and smart,” Eddie argued, trying to put an end to Chimney’s rant that had been going on for over a half hour. “That’s good to have in a team CO.”

Chimney scoffed. “His entire team died except him. You going to be happy with him hanging you out to dry while he hightails it to safety?”

Eddie was beginning to think that the intel folder that had been sitting in his inbox wasn’t common knowledge as there’d just been a string of nonsensical numbers and letters as the sender’s contact information. He’d been sent the extended—and highly classified—report on the Akuze Incident as well as the redacted official report that had been released to the press along with his official orders and a copy of Commander Buckley’s jacket. Eddie thought that Commander Buckley was lucky to have survived the first contact the Alliance had ever had with a thresher maw that had literally devoured an entire colony and then the rest of his naval special warfare unit that had been sent to investigate why the colony had gone dark.

Thresher maws were basically giant, hungry space worms with teeth the size of a small shuttle and spat acidic venom up to 3 clicks with eerie accuracy that would melt through shields and armor in less than two minutes. If you didn’t die from the acid then you had to worry with either being eaten or crushed to death. The damned things also hunted by noise and vibration so there was no escaping them other than getting off planet in a hurry.

Eddie might have nightmares about incidents like Akuze. Commander Buckley had his respect for surviving one. The fact that the commander wasn’t out of his brain and stashed in some head doctor’s padded room drooling from being drugged to the gills spoke to his mental strength and resiliency. The rest of his military jacket was even more impressive with the noted list of assignments and commendations including that he’d graduated from the Interplanetary Combatives Training (ICT) program and was one of the rare N7s.

Eddie’s only question was who had sent him the file—he was to be the XO for the ground team but it was highly unusual for him to have gotten this much intel up front…so who had given it to him? It could be Captain Andersen since his name was also all over Commander Buckley’s file which suggested a mentor-mentee relationship but it could also have been the Commander himself or a third party who wanted to somehow prejudice Eddie in some way.

He was inclined to give his new CO the benefit of the doubt and see how things went. Paperwork often omitted some truths and as a biotic Eddie had experienced his fair share of off-the-books blowbacks and prejudices.

Chimney, however, wasn’t. The man was an inveterate gossip and had his ear tuned to get all the latest scuttlebutt. Eddie had only known him for a few weeks but he knew if he needed to know anything about anybody on the ship then Chimney was the person to see.

#the first spectre #Buddie—>Mshenko #and ported it to the Mass Effect Trilogy #buddie #first draft #untitled buddie space opera #911/mass effect AU #eddie is Kaidan alenko #buck is Mshep #eddie diaz #evan buckley #military reference #slowest of slow burns

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hkblack · 3 years ago

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Are there any specific questions you’d suggest beta readers ask writers before entering a new beta relationship… and/or that writers should ask betas? Of course, making sure everyone's on the same page about the form of beta read (e.g., SPAG vs. characterization check). And, when betaing for someone new, I also often ask if they’d like non-constructive reaction comments ("AAAAA THEY’RE TOO CUTE”) as well as actual suggestions. But I’m wondering what else I should consider asking! Thanks so much.

Yes, yes, and YES. I probably drive everyone nuts in the Discord Servers I am in because when I request a beta-reader, this is the info I try to give, and it's a lot. For All Requests Major Relationships Quick Summary What I need a Beta-Reader for For Completed Pieces / Single Section Requests Rating Word Count Archive Warnings/ Content Warnings / Relevant Tags Deadline For In Progress Pieces / Long Term Requests Expected Rating Current Word & Chapter Count AND Expected Chapter Count All Possible Archive Warnings/ Content Warnings / Relevant Tags Timeline / Deadline Expectations This is because I want folks to know exactly what they're signing up for when they say they'll beta-read for me. Now, I'm a little lazy, and should probably be better about asking these questions of other people when they request a reader, tbh, before jumping in and saying I'll do something. But I usually volunteer first and ask questions later. I should probably work on that. A big reason I don't is that my major squicks and triggers tend to be Archive Warning type things, and most people are really good about flagging those. The last time I didn't get a warning for some pretty serious Whump actually made me laugh because I fell in love with the story and threatened much anger if I didn't get to read the rest. (you know who you are and I am serious about that much anger) But let's walk through my normal process: 1. Someone tags the beta-readers group in some Server I'm in (currently this is the only way I take requests--unless I've worked with a writer before) 2. I volunteer, and tell the writer to DM me their story and the deets 3. Most writers will then offer a lot of info when they DM me, "Oh I just need a SPAG" or "I'm really worried about x y and z" 4. I double check to make sure however they've given me the file works (for Google Docs, for example, I make sure I actually have Commenting/Suggesting privileges and not just View Only access) 5. I confirm what the writer has told me they are looking for in my own words, and ask if there's anything I'm missing (this helps keep us on the same page) 6. I give them an expected timeline of when they should hear from me next. 7. I dive in. Here's some heavily edited and redacted examples of first convos I've had: Writer 1: I just need another set of eyes on my fic. The prompt I was going for was X, but I also tried to include a little of the Y prompt, and the Z prompt. My problem is that it's [under the word count] so I need to figure out what to add. I also need to make sure I'm being fair to [Character A], and not implying that they are at fault for this, but showing that they still hold guilt and complicated feelings about the whole thing. Me: Okay! So I'm looking for X, Y, and Z, places to expand, and not being a jerk to [Character A]. Got it! How fast of a turn-around are you looking for? -- Me: Thanks for the link! Looks like I've got the right permissions. You said you were looking for notes on clarity, continuity, and entertainment value, right? Anything in particular other than entertainment value you're worried about? Writer 2: Pacing! Does it drag? -- Me: Got the file! You asked for SPAG and Flow notes, and you're hoping to post on [date]. Anything else I need to be aware of? Anything you're worried about in this fic? Writer 3: Maybe details. It's a specific POV, so it may need fixing/adjusting to make it more clear. You can see how every time I asked for more, the writer remembered something else they were worried about for me to keep an eye on. I think this answers the heart of your question but there's something in this ask that I'm going to pull out and make a separate post out of because it's super important but this is already too lengthy. Thanks for the Ask! Keep 'em coming!

#from the ask box #Fanfiction #beta reader #fanfic #editing #beta reading #HK’s Beta Reading Tips

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theladygia · 3 years ago

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TheLadyGia Soulmate Collection 2022 Updates

Posted Fic List

The Loveliest Crown of Thorns You Ever Did See Trope: Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmate Flowers, Flower Language. Fandom: Harry Potter. Pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort.

you look so perfect standing (sitting) there Trope: Shared Hair Colors. Fandom: Haikyuu!! Pairing: Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma.

Helluva Way to Find You, Wasn't It Trope: Soulmates Revealed Via Orgasm. Fandom: Harry Potter. Pairing: Harry Potter/Sirius Black.

WIPs

siamo dei bellissimi sussurri Trope: Soulmate-Identifying Marks, marked with soulmate's initials. Fandom: Harry Potter. Pairing: Harry Potter/[REDACTED].

Untitled (for now) Trope: Soulmate Words (but with a twist). Fandom: ASOIAF/GoT. Pairing: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth.

i wanna make you my problem Trope: Interacting magic reveals soulmates. Fandom: Harry Potter. Pairing: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle.

One Foot In, One Foot Up Their Asses (sequel to Stuck in the Middle With You) Trope: Soulmate-Identifying Marks, marked with soulmate's name. Fandom: Harry Potter. Pairing(s): Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/[REDACTED].

As Far as the Eye Can See Trope: Color-Blindness, Soulmates see in shades of their soulmate's eye color until meeting each other's eyes. Fandom: ATLA. Pairing: Aang/Toph.

Prompts remain open! Below are a few guidelines for what kind of prompts I'm willing to consider:

Fandoms: I'm willing to try any fandom I've read/watched, but if I have no experience with a fandom then I won't try and pretend I understand those characters enough to write about them. Crossover prompts are allowed but not preferred.

Pairings: I'm open to pretty much anything, but I do have a preference for the main character in a fandom. Rare pairs are perfectly fine with me, as are age gaps, but fair-warning I won't be writing any romantic pairings with one of the characters significantly underage. If you want a character to be gender-bent, please state it. Otherwise, I assume you are asking for the character's canon gender.

Tropes: Soulmate AUs of any types are allowed. First words, marks, colored vision, shared senses, physical tethers, etc., all are welcome. Got a never-before-read idea? Hit me with it. I'm looking for new takes on my favorite trope.

Other Details: You can leave 1-2 more specific details, if you'd like. I'll consider those to be optional, but I'll try my best to include them!

Example Prompts:

1. Harry Potter/Millicent Bulstrode. Upon first touch, soulmates begin to hear their partner's thoughts, but only their thoughts about their soulmate. The dueling club in 2nd years sees Harry, not Hermione partnered with Millicent Bullstrode. 2. Hinata Shouyou/Sakusa Kiyoomi. Soulmate share sickness, starting from birth and ending when the pair first kiss. 3. Fem-Aang/Sokka: Soulmate marks. Aang's is hidden by his arrow tattoos, he doesn't see Sokka's mark until the night before the invasion. Suki somehow realizes before Sokka.

I make no guarantees that I'll fulfill your prompt if you send one in, but I'm hoping to try for a good number of them! Excited to see what you guys come up with :)

Sample list of fandoms I can write for: HP, PJO, HG, ASOIAF/GoT, Haikyuu!!, QZGS/The King's Avatar, ATLA, The Queen's Gambit, P&P, Sailor Moon, and many other smaller fandoms.

#theladygia #ao3 author #fanfiction #complete #wip #2022 soulmate collection #soulmate au #harry potter #haikyuu!!#a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #avatar the last airbender #prompts are open

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justleaf · 3 years ago

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Summary

Roche and Iorveth go on a date with Geralt as their chaperone (not the hat).

Content Background

This one is especially painful to yeet because it was already completed, together with 50% of the next chapter that was the smutty bits. It was finished right about the time I posted Chapter 5 and would have fit in as Chapter 11, but it just didn't make sense with all the additional plot points I'd shoved in.

I've redacted the parts that could potentially get my tumblr banned btw please donut laugh when you see it.

Original Fic

It Took Years

Length

2,300 words

_____________

“Geralt, remember when I released you from prison and saved you from the Nilfgaardians a year ago?”

The white wolf raised his eyebrows in surprise. Roche had never called in a favour for him, and he could tell that Geralt knew it was going to be quite significant. He had thought about it too many times and despite the embarrassment and possibly never being able to look the witcher in the eye, he simply had no other choice.

“Look, I just need you to help Iorveth and I create an alibi.”

“... Uh-huh?”

“We have a meeting with Dijkstra in Novigrad in a week's time, and I plan to…” he swallowed hard when the words became momentarily stuck in his throat. It took another second for him to gather his courage to speak, and the slight tremble in his voice was immediately noticeable.

“I plan to spend the night with Iorveth in one of the inns the night before. But we need someone to cover us.”

The white wolf seemed to grow even paler and his lips pressed together in contemplation.

“You know that I have enhanced senses.”

“I know, but I need to make sure that no one catches us. Not the Scoia'tael, Blue Stripes, Dijkstra’s spies, Redanian spies, any Nilfgaardian-”

“Alright, alright, I get it. You just need to make sure that everyone thinks that I invited you two for a drink and make sure that no one is listening in.”

“I know I’m asking a lot of you, but you’re the only one I can trust in this situation. I haven’t… Iorveth and I don’t have any other opportunities. I can’t even hold his hand without worrying that someone is watching.”

Geralt stared blankly at him and Roche’s heart began to pump harder. His worry must have shown on his face, for the witcher immediately sighed and shook his head.

“Come to the Chameleon. I’ll get you guys a suite. With a wall to separate the living area and the bedroom.”

Roche looked up at him and down a few times, wondering first if Geralt had misspoke, and then if he had misheard. When the witcher said nothing and shrugged, Roche finally accepted it with a nod.

“Thanks, Geralt. Drinks are on me,” he muttered and hung his head a little. Embarrassment was beginning to burn his cheeks.

“Don’t mention it. I’ll see you soon.”

“Why are we here so early when Geralt only wanted to see us after sundown,” Iorveth whispered as they passed the guards that almost ripped their papers in half. Roche had smooth-talked his way in and Iorveth was impressed, even though he didn't let it show.

They had set aside their armour and entered the city dressed as merchants: Roche in a nondescript outfit that let him blend in with the rest of the nobles, and Iorveth draped in a cloak that obscured his elven features.

The sun was nowhere near setting when they arrived in the city. Roche had intended to take him on a date around the city, but didn’t want to admit it.

“I didn’t want to disappoint Geralt by being late.”

“Gwynbleidd would have understood.”

“Well, since we’re already here, we might as well explore the city. I heard of a tavern along the docks with an elven cook. Would you like to go there?”

The mention of food changed Iorveth’s expression immediately and Roche suppressed his laughter.

They dined at the Golden Sturgeon, where Iorveth immediately received preferential treatment from a redhead with freckles (it's Bea btw). She made sure to seat them in a relatively hidden corner and Roche could see the elf progressively relax as his shoulders began to sag. He even spotted the hints of a smile dancing on his lips when she put some strange fish dish in front of him.

Just when Roche thought that Iorveth was incapable of enjoying himself even more, he became increasingly pliant when they sat down at the Chameleon for a pint while a band played in the background. Roche didn't understand the first thing about music, but his two mugs of ale were enough to get him to keep his reservations.

Besides, he had something really cute to look at.

The elf's cloak was finally down and he could see the tips of his pointed ears twitch with every beat of the drum. He thought about how nice it would have been to pin him down to the bed and toy with his ears. His eyes trailed across the elf’s neck. If they didn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, he would have left bite marks across that smooth skin.

Mine, he thought, and he wanted the world to know once all this was over.

“You play the recorder don’t you,” Roche asked out of the blue. Their eyes met and Iorveth was slightly startled by the intensity of his gaze, but he didn’t back down.

“Yeah. There’s been too much going on recently and I haven’t had the chance to though.”

“You can practice with mine tonight.”

“Vernon,” Iorveth warned with a glare, and then quickly glanced around the room to see if anyone was within earshot. There wasn’t, but the tension in his body didn’t leave.

“I could polish yours all night too, you know.”

The elf flinched and could see the pink develop along the tops of Iorveth’s high cheekbones and the tips of his ear. Past his flustered expression however, there was a particular heat blossoming in his eyes. Roche didn’t let up, his curiosity driving him to see just how much he could take it.

“My carrying case is a bit small, but I’m sure yours will fit in with a bit of a shove."

This time, Iorveth couldn't resist the urge to push back. Dandelion's tavern was filled with his regulars who were deep in their own conversations, and they were just talking about music, right?

"So you admit that my instrument is bigger."

"Well the quality of the instrument doesn't matter if the musician has no idea how to handle it."

"I think we've proven that I'm the better player though."

"Our last few encounters haven't exactly been skewed in my favour and I still managed."

"There is no fairness in music and in battle. You should know this, Commander."

The way Iorveth said the word made his mouth go dry.

Now that was truly unfair, and his [banana] agreed. He was seconds away from tugging Iorveth upstairs when the doors swung open and in stepped the white wolf.

"Geralt!" he called out and waved a hand.

"Nice to see you both. I hope you didn't wait long."

The witcher took a few steps towards them, sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. He had this resigned look about him and Roche immediately knew that he could smell their arousal.

"Let's drink in my room," Geralt suggested and grabbed four mugs of ale from a passing waitress. She protested at first, but nodded and flashed him a huge smile when she saw who he was.

They headed up the stairs and Roche had to try very hard not to openly stare at Iorveth's ass. It [eggplant] and he had no choice but to stare ruefully at the ground.

As soon as he saw that the second floor was empty, he reached out and pinched the elf's behind. Iorveth jumped at the touch and almost spilled his own mug of ale, and Roche was treated to one of those embarrassed glares. They quietly ascended another flight of stairs and neared the room, and Roche could feel his heart race and his breathing grow ragged.

Finally, after two weeks of planning and trying to fit all the pieces together, it was happening. It had been a year since Dol Blathanna and months since they started seeing each other, and Roche was raring to go.

Geralt opened the door to a suite on the top floor that was exactly as he described: a small living area with a table for four and a few sparse furnishings, though it was far more comfortable than the arrangements he was used to. Partitioned off by a wall and door was a bedroom mostly occupied by a sizable bed and more pillows than he could count. A decision made by the bard, no doubt.

As soon as the door closed behind them and they set down their mugs, Roche grabbed Iorveth’s collar and shoved him towards the bedroom. The elf looked mortified and nearly lost his footing, but he recovered within the span of a few steps. He grabbed Roche’s arms and plucked them off him, then tried to shove him backwards but Roche held his ground.

“What the fuck, Roche?!”

Roche took a step back and considered Iorveth’s anger. The elf's gaze had grown sharp and alert, but he was mostly just shocked at the audacity of his actions. He just flashed him a devious smile and was returned a twitch of confusion.

“What? Didn’t you always like roughhousing me on the forest floor?”

“Not in front of Gwyn-”

Roche barely gave Iorveth a chance to answer. He charged forward, wrapped an arm around the elf’s waist, and threw him straight into bed. Iorveth went flying into the mattress with a groan and Roche climbed straight into his lap. Heavy footsteps thudded behind them and stopped by the door.

“Oil’s on the nightstand. Don’t get the sheets dirty and take your shoes off before you get in bed dammit. I can’t afford to pay for new sheets too.”

“Gwynbleidd, what is the meaning of this.”

“Just a little gift from me to the both of you. Have fun, Iorveth. Just try not to make too much noise.”

The door behind them closed and Iorveth just stared blankly at Roche, who was already taking off his top. No words came out of the elf’s gaping mouth, so Roche blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Enjoying the date so far?”

“Explain yourself Roche, I’m not-”

The elf had to pause when Roche began grinding in his lap. It worked until it didn't, and Iorveth grabbed onto his hips to still them. Roche just wanted to get to the fucking already, but the elf refused to be distracted no matter how much he tried.

“Did you plan all this? Coming to my camp to pick me up. Picking flowers for me along the path. Bringing me to the tavern for dinner. Having drinks. This fake meeting with Gwynbleidd.”

“Of course. When else was I going to get the opportunity to take you out on a date?”

Something in Iorveth cracked visibly and Roche went dead still with nervousness. The other lowered his gaze and Roche cupped his face in his hands, desperate for his elf to be okay. He stroked his cheek gently and tilted his head up to try and get a better look at that unreadable expression. This was the opposite of what he hoped would happen and worry began to pool in his stomach.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong. Talk to me,” he urged and placed a peck on the scarred cheek. There was no answer, so he continued fluttering kisses along his jawline. He felt like his world might come crashing down at any moment and resisted the urge to salvage the situation before he knew what was going on.

It felt like Iorveth was cycling through a thousand and one emotions. He cupped the elf's face in his hands and pulled back, where he was greeted by a vulnerability he had never seen before. The other had this dazed and awed look in his eyes, and if Roche wasn't so flustered by the sudden change of pace, he might he caught his surrender.

“Vernon…”

“I’m here. What is it? You can tell me.”

“It’s just...overwhelming.”

“In a good way or bad way?”

“Good way.”

Roche released the breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. It was nice that the reaction was somewhat positive, but Roche’s poor heart couldn’t take the anticipation. Surprising Iorveth was turning out to be quite bad for his health.

“Well. Have you enjoyed yourself?”

“Mmn.”

“It's okay. We'll take it at your pace.”

“I just... need some time to process this. I’ve never been treated like this before. It's overwhelming.”

“Well you deserve it. Take the time you need, it’s okay,” Roche encouraged again and placed another peck on his nose as he undid the bandanna that obscured half his face.

This really wasn’t how he thought the evening would go, but he had to admit that it was nice. At the core of it, all he really wanted was to be able to kiss and hold Iorveth intimately without fear of someone catching them. Now they were in bed and there was someone trustworthy to watch their backs, he supposed he had achieved his goal. Maybe they could just hold off the fucking for a while more.

“Do you want to take a nap with me,” Roche offered after they'd sat in silence for a while.

“Yeah… I would like that very much.”

Iorveth tried to take off his cloak, but Roche shushed him and pushed his hands aside. The elf had a blank look on his face and hurt momentarily flashed across his eye.

"Let me," Roche rushed to salvage as he pulled loose the strings on his cloak.

“I can undress myself you know.”

“I know you can, but just let me pamper you a bit more.”

The tips of Iorveth's ears were bright red and Roche suppressed the urge to tease him about it. Slowly, he helped the elf strip down to his underwear and slipped him beneath the sheets. Then he took off his own garments and joined him, snuggling up to that warm and slender body that seemed to fit so perfectly with his.

Yeah, he could wait.

#cut content #iorveth x roche #iorveth #vernon roche #witcher 2 #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #drabbles #it took years

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moon-in-daylight · 4 years ago

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Stay the night / Count Orlo x reader

Summary: It’s the evening before Catherine’s birthday, and knowing what her plans for the special day are, you have to decide whether if you warn Orlo or not.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: So remember over a month ago when I said I wanted to write Orlo fluff? Well, I wasn’t able to write it until recently. I didn’t edit this and I’m posting it at 2 am so forgive any typos that you may find. I’m just really impatient once I finish writing something and I really can’t wait to share it 😂 Also, thanks to the anon that sent this because it practically gave me the whole idea for this fic. Sorry for the delay 😅

Orlo’s mellow voice echoed through the empty room as he read aloud for the both of you. Written words came out of his tongue naturally, as if he was the one choosing what to say instead of just reading the thoughts of another person. He had that gift of making the most boring writings sound like poetry when he read them for you. You were sure that even the dullest treaties he had to redact for Peter would sound delightfully sweet, if he was the one reading them.

The loving tone he used when he knew you were listening, the dedication he put into every sentence, reciting every word with a passion you had rarely seen in any other man at court… As you leant your head on his shoulder, you wished you could enjoy the soothing sound of his voice just like you used to do every night. But, much to your disgrace, this wasn’t just any other night.

Maybe it was for Orlo. As far as you could tell, he was oblivious to all the chaos going through your mind. And you wished you could be as well as you tried to focus on the way he took and released the air around you as he spoke.

He didn’t have the slightest clue, but tomorrow would be a decisive day for the two of you. Not only for the two of you. The whole of Russia could be marked forever by the events that were to come. Tomorrow was Catherine’s birthday, and as one of her most loyal confidantes, you had been chosen to carry the burden of knowing what her plans for the day were.

You had thought that she was joking at first when she told you that she was pregnant, and you even laughed when she let you know that all she wanted as a birthday gift was her husband’s head on a silver plate. But you froze when you realized she was being as serious as ever since she had arrived that godforsaken excuse of a court. She was determined to take the step, to finally kill Peter and take his place the next morning. Seeing the passionate way she spoke of the events that were to come, you knew nothing could have make her change her mind.

It wasn’t that you weren’t glad that Peter was about to get what he deserved. You hated him with every fiber of your being and you couldn’t wait for the moment that he paid for everything he had done to your country, that was why you had chosen to take part in her coup and drag Orlo into it as well. But as the moment of taking the final step approached, you couldn’t help but torture yourself with all the horrible outcomes your plans could bring.

If the coup failed, a quick public execution would be the most desirable destiny for you. Your body trembled when you thought about the physical tortures and punishments you would be subjected to if Peter identified you as one of the plotters. But that worry you felt for your well being didn’t even compare to what you felt when you thought of what losing Orlo would be like.

Orlo had been your friend for years, and now that your relationship was finally developing into something more, you couldn’t bare the thought of losing him. For years you had been meeting in the library at the most remote times of the day, sharing his company and a decent book in the dim light of candles being all you needed to clear your mind of the idiots you had to deal with at court. He had been the most important person to you ever since you had arrived that awful place, the only person that had showed to you some real, uninterested kindness.

You hadn’t been able to avoid developing deeper feelings for him almost immediately, but thinking that he wasn’t interested in you, you had kept them a secret for years, hoping that way you wouldn’t lose your closest friend. You had felt utterly stupid when, after coming back from his unfortunate trip to the front, he had decided to tell you what he truly felt for you in an act of alcohol-induced bravery.

Only a few weeks had gone by since you had gotten together, and honestly not much had changed in your relationship. You still did the same things you had always done. You talked for hours on end, share any and every interesting book or quote you read with each other, go for a walk through the palace gardens… The only difference was that you no longer had to hold yourself back when you felt like grabbing his hand or giving him a little peck on the lips.

It felt as if you had been wasting your time all those years, and you weren’t ready for what you both had to be over. Catherine’s birthday could mean the end of everything you actually enjoyed about that place, because even if you succeeded in getting Peter out of the throne, there was still a high risk that either you or Orlo had to sacrifice your lives for the cause.

You hadn’t mind dying back when you had first joined the coup. Back then, you didn’t have anything to hold on to and you wouldn’t have mind to give your life for a greater good. Now that you had Orlo by your side, you were scared of losing the one good thing that you had.

For the first time since you could remember, you were terrified.

His voice seemed to be drifting away from you as you felt a sharp pain inside your chest. It wasn’t fair. You would never forgive yourself if something did happen to Orlo the next day. You would always remember that you had been to one to drag him into that situation.

“Orlo…” You called his name in a low tone, immediately gaining his attention as he looked away from the book and right back at you.

You wanted to apologize to him. To tell him just how terrified you were and ask him to run away with you far away from that palace, move to another country if needed. You had more than a bad premonition about the following day, and your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled not to share those anxious thoughts with him.

This could be the last night that you got to spend by his side. He seemed so blissful there, reading to you. So calmed and unaware of the horrible thoughts that clouded your head… You couldn’t tell him, you couldn’t make him carry that burden too. Orlo deserved every second of happiness he could get, and you wouldn’t have been able to be the one bringing him bad news. He’d know about Catherine’s plans when he strictly had to, not a second earlier.

“Am I boring you?” He innocently asked as he put the book on his lap, trying to disguise his true fear of being boring with a kind smile and an amusing intonation in that question. He had slowly learned to become comfortable around you, vulnerable. But sometimes you could still see glimpses of old shy, nervous Orlo when his insecurities hunted him.

“Of course not.” The reassurance you gave him seemed to bring him back to that previous state of peace he had been enjoying during that whole evening. “I could never get bored of you.”

He didn’t need to give you an actual answer for you to notice his disbelief of your words. A simple, practically unnoticeable blush of his cheeks and the way his eyes immediately avoided looking directly at you were enough for you to notice the incredulity he still demonstrated at the thought of someone being able to love him.

“I hope you know I mean it.” You added, reaching his cheek with one of your hands and caressing it softly as you removed the book that still laid on his lap so you were the one resting above him instead.

Grabbing his chin carefully, you guided his stare so that it would meet yours, his chocolate brown eyes reflecting some of the dim light of the room. He had removed his characteristic glasses recently, and you weren’t quite accustomed to see him so… Naked yet. The absence of them allowed you to look into his eyes with no barrier in between, and though you had to admit you kind of missed that accessory of him, there was no comparison to what getting lost in his uncovered eyes felt like. You could get lost on them for hours.

Observing the way he stared back at you in deep affection and devotion, you even forgot about everything else going on for a second. For just that one moment, you could pretend everything was okay.

“Remember when we met?” Your fingers traced the outline of his jaw as you recalled the first time you had seen him.

“I got scared when I heard the door because no one else but me used to spend time here.” He evoked his memories of that first day too. “You were surprised when you saw me too. You were crying and you had run in here hoping you could be alone.”

“The Ladies here can be really mean.” You smiled at him as you remembered how you were affected by the comments of other people when you first arrived the palace. It had been long since you last cared about those things. Truth was you had stopped caring about the Ladies’ opinions once you had started to prefer Orlo’s nicer ones instead.

“I tried to comfort you.” Orlo kept relating the events of that day as he let his hands rest on either side of your waist, embracing you softly. “I didn’t know what to do, I felt so bad that you were suffering so pointlessly… I read some Descartes to you, because it always helps me to see things with perspective…”

“Conquer yourself rather than the world.” You recited one of the quotes Orlo had read to you, the one that had been printed in your mind since that day.

“I’m sure I bored you more than I helped you relax.”

“That’s not true.” You intervened again, refusing to let him indulge in his own negative perception of himself. “You helped me a lot. You didn’t have to, but you stayed with me until I felt better. No one else would have done that.”

When he looked away from you in embarrassment, you decided to draw his attention back at you by kissing him on the lips. He should have been accustomed by now, but he still froze for a few seconds every time you kissed him unexpectedly. Far from being bothered by it, you felt touched whenever you got that reaction from him, and you delighted yourself when you finally felt him moving his lips against yours one the initial shock was over.

It was those little things that had made you fall so deep for Orlo. Those were the things you were most afraid of losing. Thinking about the fact that it could be the last time you kissed him, you deepened the kiss as your fingers started to play with the few locks of hair that fell messily around his head.

“I love you, Orlo.” You whispered softly, quickly hiding your head in his chest. “Please, don’t ever forget that.”

It was inevitable that the tears started forming in your eyes, and you couldn’t hold them back anymore when Orlo surrounded your body with his arms. Bringing you even closer to him as he repeatedly kissed the top of your head.

“I love you too.” He muttered, the feeling of guilt while seeing you cry overcoming every shyness he could still have left. “I… I’m sorry if it sounded as if I don’t. You’re the most important thing to me and sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you. I’m really sorry… Please, don’t cry…”

“It’s not your fault.” You quickly assured him, once again refusing to let him self-flagellate. “It’s okay.”

“What is wrong?” Orlo asked, trying to clean the tears that already felt down your cheeks as you silently calmed yourself. If you died tomorrow, you didn’t want that you crying was the last memory he kept of you.

“Nothing is, I promise.”

You knew you hadn’t sounded confident enough for him to believe you, but you weren’t able to tell him what was really going on. All you wanted was to enjoy that night with him and stretch it as long as you could in fears it was actually going to be your last. Cuddled against his chest, you wished for him not to ask anymore questions, fearing that you wouldn’t be able to keep the secret from him much longer.

His hands kept moving up and down your back as you tried to calmed yourself down.

“Is there anything I can do?” Orlo worriedly asked, still trying to help despite not knowing what the situation was. You had always admired that of him, his predisposition to help even when he didn’t know how.

Focusing on the calming rhythm of his breathing, you tried to find the right words to express what you needed without ruining this evening for him.

“Would you stay the night with me?”

“Of course. Anything you need.” He agreed, wrapping you tighter with his arms.

Accommodating yourself inside his embrace, you wished for a way to be able to stop time in that precise moment.

#Count Orlo x reader #Orlo x reader #Hulu's The Great #Sacha Dhawan #Hulu's The Great fanfiction #Count Orlo x you #Orlo x you #The Great #The Great fanfiction

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purplesunrisefanfic · 4 years ago

Note

Would you be willing to share a couple of YOUR Abby fantasies with us, your adoring, always horny, Abby simping fans?

Sure! And thank you, this was a fun ask ❤️💕💪

Abby Sexual Fantasties

(Abby/reader OR a mixture of Abby/author and Abby/GN!reader)

Fair warning, my fantasies are even more high-key kinky than my fics so major warning for very graphic and explicit sexual content, hardcore BDSM and arguable edgeplay. Also, as far I’m concerned Abby switches, don’t @ me about your HCs that she’s a rigid “top” or whatever else, @ me about your graphic sexual fantasies of Abby instead. 😈

I don’t want to warn in detail and thereby effectively imply I have caught everything that might need a warning because I fear I will miss something, so anyone who has specific triggers, please inbox me the specifics (Anon is on) and I’ll reply either saying this post is fine or with a redacted version suitable for you personally. And please do ask, I’m happy to help with this stuff. 💛

Gender and Bodies Note: I have written this in two different formats. The first was using “you” so it’s easier to reader-insert but the “you” is based on my fantasies, ie me and the body I have. I’m AFAB (and not knowingly intersex) with my original layout/plumbing and am comfortable with all the sex options my body has available. As far as I’m aware I don’t reference anything that couldn’t work the same for someone who has had a vaginoplasty, except that I talk about getting extremely wet beyond what might be possible for many vagina-havers. Maybe even most other vagina-havers tbh, bc I have a noted ability to get soaked way beyond what most people who self-lubricate can. It’s actually partly a coping thing that it so regularly features in my fantasies tbh because it helps to think of it in sexy way when the actual reality is that trying to get off is often like trying to build up friction on a freakin’ slip n’ slide! 😂

If you don’t want to read a “you” with such characteristics, scroll down and I’ll rewrite the necessary sections with an “I” so you can read these with an author-insert instead of a reader-insert. Look for a line made of emojis.

Reminder: App/mobile site = no read more breaks, don’t @ me, @ Tumblr bc it annoys the eff outta me too! (Tumblr, if you’re listening, please please fix this shite ASAP.)

Abby/Reader version (Warning: This version is body-specific):

Assuming, which I do, that @pinkchubbiebunnie is correct that Abby cannon has a hairpulling kink, (well spotted and much appreciated detail btw, thank you, Tanisha! Hope you enjoy these as well they seem like your sort of thing too 😍) Tying up Abby’s wrists with rope then braiding the rope into her hair and tying the rope onto her braid so that every time she’s overwhelmed with desire and starts to struggle against the rope it pulls her hair and teases her some more. Edging her like that until she breaks, her face covered in sweat while she pleads for release. Once you give it to her, you don’t stop and she struggles again when she becomes overwhelmed with pleasure, but struggling pulls on her hair again which intensifies the overstimulation. Tears in her eyes, she pleads for you to stop (but doesn’t actually safeword) so you offer/remind her that she can safeword. She breaks eye contact, her already flushed face starts burning and she shakes her head. You tilt her head back up, forcing eye contact. “So you don’t really want me to stop?” you question her evilly, just to make her say that she does want you to stop, but she doesn’t want you to have to do what she wants, she wants you free to ignore her. Her lip trembles when she tells you to use her how you please, breaking off mid-sentence to whimper, utterly overwhelmed because you haven’t let up on her clit this whole time. You make her come once more, and she finishes up an absolute mess. You think you ought to stop there, and lay off touching her further, until she softly asks you, in a small voice with pleasing eyes, to put on her strap and fuck her with that because she feels desperately empty after all that stimulation.

Flip-side: Her and Manny are ultimate bros and ultimate dom bros. You’re in a lifestyle BDSM situation with her and have to get yourself used to the fact that she’ll spank you in her shared apartment whenever you deserve it, whether Manny is around or not. Equally, you see some of Manny’s poly rotation facing the same from time-to-time. You don’t have orgies or even have sex when Manny is there (or vice versa) but they both feel discipline can’t wait. He’s respectful and super discreet about it, which low-key feels nice/destigmatising but high-key feels embarrassing as hell that he sees this stuff without ever bringing it up in conversation with you. You always wonder if part of his charismatic grin is teasing you that he knows what the “special necklace” you always wear really means. Oh, and between her muscles and her hands which are calloused from all the physical and soldier work, she can spank you hard and long without needing a paddle.

She’s figured out how to pack discreetly with something firm enough to fuck you with, and when you patrol together she’ll take any opportunity to give you a taste. She never lets you orgasm while you’re out and makes sure you’re always walking around soaked through your clothes and grateful your trousers don’t show an obvious colour difference. She always eats her supper (“supper” = British for evening meal.*) super slowly on those days. Anytime you seem like you might be relaxing during the meal or becoming less needy, she makes suggestive eye contact and squeezes one of your thighs between hers under the table, letting you feel the toy between her legs so she’s sure you don’t get a break from feeling desperate for her. You end up having all your patrol group believing your old minor knee injury (which doesn’t really cause you any proper trouble) always gets painful towards the end of patrol days because you always blame that for why you get noticeably quiet and jumpy by the end of a patrol day.

She’ll play really sadistically if you ask her to. (Content warning: this is about to get into the details of that). With that, she won’t use any bondage, just her raw ability to overpower you without even breaking out in a sweat. She’ll pinch and pull at your nipples, grab you by your hair and drag you around. She’ll absolutely cover your thighs in hickeys (and you tend to have to bite hard to leave a mark on a thigh) on the way to going down on you. She keeps her nails short for practical reasons, but she knows how to grab you and angle her fingers so you feel her nails sink into anyway. She picked up enough medical knowledge that she knows where and how she can safely hurt you. Abby can control herself and her voice so you get her steeliest tone and expression while she makes you scream and cry. That type of treatment makes your clit swell like hell and you get so wet from it that it’s obvious and embarrassing. And Abby loves to make that worse by drawing attention to how wet it makes you, taunting you about how much you like her brutal treatment. She’ll sometimes slip her fingers inside just to be able to coat them in your juices so she can smear them over your body. Smirking, she’ll coo about how you’ll let her do whatever the fuck she wants with you. If she feels like using her strap on, she’ll slip it inside you briefly at first, only to pull it out, shove you to your knees and make you suck it spotlessly clean of your own taste before she’ll consider actually fucking you with it. Afterwards, she cleans you up gently and tends to any little injuries (she never does anything dangerous). She’s takes hold of you a little possessively, reminding you that no one but her gets to treat you like that, and she’d kill anyone who tried. Then she showers you with love and praise, holding you protectively until you fall asleep.

💜💪💜💪💜💪💜💪💜💪💜💪💜💪💜💪💜💪💜💪💜💪💜💪

Abby/GN! Reader & Abby/Author version:

(Still uses “you” with one alteration to the original) Assuming, which I do that @pinkchubbiebunnie is correct that Abby cannon has a hairpulling kink, (well spotted and much appreciated detail btw, thank you, Tanisha!) Tying up Abby’s wrists with rope then braiding the rope into her hair and tying the rope onto her braid so that every time she’s overwhelmed with desire and starts to struggle against the rope it pulls her hair and teases her some more. Edging her like that until she breaks, her face covered in sweat while she pleads for release. Once you give it to her, you don’t stop and she struggles again when she becomes overwhelmed with pleasure, but struggling pulls on her hair again which intensifies the overstimulation. Tears in her eyes, she pleads for you to stop (but doesn’t actually safeword) so you offer/remind her that she can safeword. She breaks eye contact, her already flushed face starts burning and she shakes her head. You tilt her head back up, forcing eye contact. “So you don’t really want me to stop?” you question her evilly, just to make her say that she does want you to stop, but she doesn’t want you to have to do what she wants, she wants you free to ignore her. Her lip trembles when she tells you to use her how you please, breaking off mid-sentence to whimper, utterly overwhelmed because you haven’t let up on her clit this whole time. You make her come once more, and she finishes up an absolute mess. You think you ought to stop there, and lay off touching her further, until she softly asks you, in a small voice with pleasing eyes, to please use your fingers or whatever else you want to penetrate her because she feels desperately empty after all that stimulation.

(Unaltered from “you”/reader-insert bc no body-specifics) Flip-side: Her and Manny are ultimate bros and ultimate dom bros. You’re in a lifestyle BDSM situation with her and have to get yourself used to the fact that she’ll spank you in her shared apartment whenever you deserve it, whether Manny is around or not. Equally, you see some of Manny’s poly rotation facing the same from time-to-time. You don’t have orgies or even have sex when Manny is there (or vice versa) but they both feel discipline can’t wait. He’s respectful and super discreet about it, which low-key feels nice/destigmatising but high-key feels embarrassing as hell that he sees this stuff without ever bringing it up in conversation with you. You always wonder if part of his charismatic grin is teasing you that he knows what the “special necklace” you always wear really means. Oh, and between her muscles and her hands which are calloused from all the physical and soldier work, she can spank hard and long without needing a paddle.

She’s figured out how to pack discreetly with something firm enough to fuck me with, and when we patrol together she’ll take any opportunity to give me a taste. She never lets me orgasm while we’re out and makes sure I’m always walking around soaked through my clothes and grateful my trousers don’t show an obvious colour difference. She always eats her supper (“supper” = British for evening meal.*) super slowly on those days. Anytime I seem like I might be relaxing during the meal or becoming less needy, she makes suggestive eye contact and squeezes one of my thighs between hers under the table, letting me feel the toy between her legs so she’s sure I don’t get a break from feeling desperate for her. I end up having all our patrol group believing my old minor knee injury (which doesn’t really cause me any proper trouble) always gets painful towards the end of patrol days because I always blame that for why I get noticeably quiet and jumpy by the end of a patrol day.

She’ll play really sadistically if I ask her to. (Content warning: this is about to get into the details of that). With that, she won’t use any bondage, just her raw ability to overpower me without even breaking out in a sweat. She’ll pinch and pull at my nipples, grab me by my hair and drag my around. She’ll absolutely cover my thighs in hickeys (and you tend to have to bite hard to leave a mark on a thigh) on the way to going down on me. She keeps her nails short for practical reasons, but she knows how to grab me and angle her fingers so I feel her nails sink into anyway. She picked up enough medical knowledge that she knows where and how she can safely hurt me. Abby can control herself and her voice so I get her steeliest tone and expression while she makes me scream and cry. That type of treatment makes my clit swell like hell and I get so wet from it that it’s obvious and embarrassing. And Abby loves to make that worse by drawing attention to how wet it makes me, taunting me about how much I like her brutal treatment. She’ll sometimes slip her fingers inside just to be able to coat them in my juices so she can smear them over my body. Smirking, she’ll coo about how I’ll let her do whatever the fuck she wants with me. If she feels like using her strap on, she’ll slip it inside me briefly at first, only to pull it out, shove me to my knees and make me suck it spotlessly clean of my own taste before she’ll consider actually fucking me with it. Afterwards, she cleans me up gently and tends to any little injuries (she never does anything dangerous). She takes hold of me a little possessively, reminding me that no one but her gets to treat me like that, and she’d kill anyone who tried. Then she showers me with love and praise, holding me protectively until I fall asleep.

*While we’re on this subject, beware using the term “dinner” with Brits bc it’s a different meal in different regions. Somewhere like Newcastle, dinner = lunch whereas in London dinner = evening meal. 🤷‍♀️ We’re a weird country on many counts, that’s the tip of the iceberg.

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #tlou2 abby #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic #my fic #my fics #well they’re kinda fics so for ease of filing #cw

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nonsensicalobsessions · 4 years ago

Text

So, somewhere along the line, this happened:

And for the life of me, I am scratching my head. I am going out on a limb and guessing a lot of it is from commenting on other people’s writing, rather than people noticing my own...but, I know there is a small contingent of people that have been kind enough to comment, and care about my scribblings.

As such, I would like to do a little something to celebrate, and also something to help prod my creativity, which has been really stagnating with all the stress from current events as well as personal shit shows. I will spare you from elaborating on same. You are welcome.

I am fairly confident there will be a low turnout, so I am flinging the door open, streaking nude across the pitch, and plunging headfirst into the murky waters that have scared me for so long:

I am taking requests.

Here are the rules, such as they are, and they are boilerplate, so no one should be shocked:

1. No incest, no pedophilia.

2. Any of TH characters are fair game. Including the character of TH himself. I do not mind writing RP fic as in my mind, I am simply writing about the character of TH, the actor, not the real person himself. I would never presume that anything I write is an accurate reflection of his personal thoughts, feelings, activities, etc. However, I do try very hard to make my writings as accurate of a representation of his personality as I can, just as I would if I was writing the character of Adam, Loki, Thomas Sharpe, etc. I will also write continuations of situations I have already created in my previous stories, if you wish. They could be logical follow ones, or AUs...

3. (Redacted for reasons, and I am too lazy to go back and renumber the rest.)

4. I can write smut, but I cannot guarantee the heat factor or rating of said smut. You have been warned. Again, I will suit the situation to my skill level and how I feel it best fits the situation as it evolves.

5. Please send me your request either in the comments below or as an ask, you may be anonymous if you wish.

6. These will most likely be drabbles, but again, I cannot guarantee length. I do tend to run on...

7. I am taking these requests until twelve noon, EDT, Sunday, June 26, 2020.

8. I will get to these requests in a timely fashion. Meaning my time. If I feel l am stuck, I will inform you so you aren’t left hanging.

Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed my drivel and meandering long enough to hit the “follow” button. Even more thanks to those who have spent long enough of their time to comment and share their thoughts on what I have written. Every time I post a piece of fiction, I am sharing a mental playground I created, a place I went to play in my head to escape the world and enjoy...and while I have, and did enjoy it, it means so much more to me to I know that I am not the only one there...and when you let me know what your favorite parts are, or what you would like to see...well, that makes the playgrounds of the future even better.

Hoping this finds all of you well, and happy,

Nonsensical

#look christine i did a thing #she always believed I could #nonsensical writes #thank you #requests are open #I must be mad

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cutepastelstarsalior · 5 years ago

Text

Kids

Fandom; Sander Sides

Charcters; Patton Sanders, Charcter!Thomas Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Deceit Sanders, Logan Sanders, Roman Sanders, and Remus Sanders

Warnings; character deaths, children death, divorce, car crash, suicide, homophobia

Summery; after a game of truth or dare goes horribly bad after leaving Patton in tears, the other sides try to fighter out what to do to help their father figure

This fic was inspired by a comic by @rinzay

——————

It was a good day.

Key word; way.

The day only turn bad after a game of truth or dare.

It was a ordinary day. A normal rainy Sunday. Thomas and the sides were relaxing in the living room playing games and watching Netflix.

After a while of binge watching tv, everyone was starting to get bored. It was only when Roman decided to play Truth it Dare that made everything more interesting. The game started out as fair and fun but it quickly turn emotional and heavy after Remus starts to ask difficult and personal questions.

Roman, Virgil, and Patton were sitting in a open triangle shape on the floor, Virgil in the middle with Patton on his right, were the happy light blue side had his back pressed against the couch, and Roman was on Virgil’s left side. All three men had their knees touching each other.

Remus, Logan and Thomas were on the couch. Remus was in the middle sitting upside down with his knees hanging against the couch’s back and his head on the carpet. Remus has one hand against his stomach while the other was moving around as he talked.

Logan was in the far right hand corner with his knees against under himself while he was drinking some coffee. Thomas was on the left hand corner leaning against the couch’s arm rest. Deceit was sitting on Roman’s “throne” which was just a bunch of beanbag chair and a bunch of blanket and pillow stack together to form some sort of lump. Deceit was both monitoring the game and keeping sore of who was winning the game and not cheating.

“Ok, ok, ok, who’s turn is next?” Roman ask out loud as he drummed his fingers against his thigh.

“It’s Remus’s turn” Deceit monotonly replied.

“YAY” Remus have a small shout. Quickly looking around Remus look to see who his next victim would be.

“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm idk, hmm maybe-“ Remus joke as he stroked his mustache carefully looking at each of his friends with a sly look.

“ Oh for the love of- Remus hurry up!” Virgil inpatiently cried out.

“Ok ok, yeesh, fine I chose Patton. Patty-cakes, truth or dare?”

“Oh. Um how about truth.” Patton said glancing up at Remus.

“ Ok, why do you call yourself dad?” Remus asked.

Patton smile, then gave a small giggle. “Isn’t obvious? I mostly act as a father figure to the other sides, so it’s a bit natural to play up the dad role.”

Remus click his tounge. “But Pat, none of us are you’re kids! It would make sense if your acted like a dad after you meet us, but you acted this way before Virgil was alive! Do you have a secret husband that we don’t know about?” Remus rambled.

“ Remus, stop rambling, Patton already answer his question now who-“ Logan started to say.

“Um actually, Patton didn’t technically answer the question, he gave a half-truth, not a full truth.” Deceit interrupted.

“Huh???” Everyone but Patton and Deceit yelled. Patton look sheepishly at the ground while Deciet stared at Patton.

“So time continue the game, Patton you need to tell the truth, the full truth. I know when you are lie so don’t try. Where are your kids, Patton.” Deceit asked.

“ yeah Patton How can you be a dad if you don’t have any kids!” Remus added on. Logan have a hard look at Remus, telling his to knock it off.

Patton stopped smiling.

The room was dead quite. Where was his kids? Patton close his eyes, trying to remember if he even had kids.

Suddenly he remembered two faces. Two young faces of a girl and a boy. The girl was around 10 or younger, she had long brown hair that when to armpits, brown eyes and she wore a pink hair band. The boy taller, he had shorter brown hair and brown eyes. The boy look to be around 12.

He remember created videos and laughing and playing with his kids. He rember loving them and teaching them and caring for them. But what where there names?

Sally? Ben? Haley? Mark? Hannah? Daniel? No matter how are he try to remember his children’s names he couldn’t.

He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember. HE COULDN’T REMEMBER.

Patton gave a wet sob. He started to cry. His shoulders shook and he couldn’t see. Panicking, Virgil grab onto Patton arm. The others sides were confused why was Patton crying? Did something happen to their happy dad figure?

“Patton are you ok?” Logan ask as he kneeled in front of Patton. He slowly lifted the crying man’s face, and stared into the man’s eyes.

“Patton, Are you ok? Can you tell us what’s wrong? Are you having a panic attack?” Logan whispered.

Before Patton could replay, he got another memory. He remembers fighting with someone, a women. She had long light brown hair that when to her should blades, pale skin, bright blue eyes, and long legs. The mystery women would wear businesses suits and have a sern face.

But the women seem to love him. She had a wedding ring on. In the memory women wasnt wearing her ring, and in her hands was divorces papers. The women was yelling at Patton about how he was dangerous, stupid, and careless father. The women yelled how he was hurt her children.

Patton remember how he spend the months yelling and fighting with the ex-wife, and how many times he had to go court to fight for custody for his children. Patton was denied full costody, but was given half.

Things we’re getting better after the divorce. Well, it was better for his ex-wife and the kids. They moved two as far as possible for Patton, his ex-wife was reluctant on letting the kids spend tike with their father. But after two years, the two adults found a system that could work.

Everything change after the car crash.

It was a rain April day. Patton was taking the kids back to their mother’s. Patton’s youngest, his beautiful little girl was asleep, and his oldest, his handsome young son was in the passenger seat looking out the window. Patton was pissed. He was angry. After the divorce, Patton changed about his live.

He quite his job and sold his house to live move in town and to work as a bartender. During the years Patton discovered that he was gay. at first Patton paniced, he was heavily religious, what would happen if his church or much worse, his family found out? His family was already angry and disappointed about Patton’s divorce. But over the time after coming out to his family and church Patton slowly found that he could be hisself and to have his religion.

The reason why Patton was so angry right now was because after two years of find and being himself, Patton decided to come out to his ex-wife. It was only far seeing how that she was going to help raise his kids. The only problem was that she was homophobic. His ex immediately got into a fight with Patton, saying how he was going to croupt her children and that it would confuse them.

Now Patton know that he should drive when he was angry, but it was late, the kids had school in the morning, and Patton didn’t have enough money to get a hotel for the night. Patton gave a glance at his son, lately the kids seem withdrawn and tired. The divorce must have been to much for the kids Patton thought. Hopefully Patton would be abel to see his kids next week, if his ex-wife didn’t demand the court to change the schedules.

“Daddy love you sport, you know this right? I love your sister too” Patton gently said, it was hard to talk to his son lately and he wanted to let his son know that he was there for him.

“ yeah dad, I know, [redacted] knows too. I’m just tired for moving place to place” his son replied.

“ well you know sport, if you want you can try living with me or your mother permanently. If that what you want. No pressure.”

“Mm yeah, maybe. I don’t know.”

Before the two could continue talking, the car slid against the wet pavement. Patton jerk the wheel try to keep the car steady, but the car end up flipping and crashing on the road.

Everything even black.

—————-

A month.

One month ago Patton got into a car crash, he and his children were sent to the hospital. His daughter die on impact and his son only lasted halfway to the hospital due to internal bleeding.

In one month, his ex-wife move across country. Never to speak or see him again.

In one month Patton loss his family, both his birth family and his created family.

In one month Patton life became hell.

In one month Patton would rather die then to live without his children.

So Patton did.

Patton swolled a bottle of doctor prescribed medicine and he hung himselve.

Out of two years and one month, this was the happiest Patton was.

———————-

When Patton woke up, he was in a white room. The first think he noticed was that he didn’t have his glasses. The second thing he noticed was that he was a little boy, around 8.

Suddenly there was a little boy that look a lot like him. Or did Patton look a lot like the boy? Anyway the boy walk over to Patton. He had brown hair and eyes. He was wearing a white-tshirt and cargo pants.

“Hi! My name is Thomas! What’s you’re?” Thomas ask as he stood out his hand. Patton shocked it.

“I’m Patton!”

“Hehe that sound like a old man name like a dad!” Thomas laugh.

Patton smile. Was he dead? Or was he a ghost? The little boy could see and touch him so maybe he was in heaven?

“If you want you can call me dad!” Patton reply happy to have a friend.

As the hours when’s by Patton and Thomas played and meet another little boy name Logan. The three of them had lots of fun.

They had so much fun that Patton couldn’t remember how he got here. Why was he here?

Oh well Patton thought. It must’ve not have been important to remember.

#patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #charcter!thomas #fandom #pastel writing #my writing #this is just a prolog im goting to write more but not right niw #sanders sides #janus sanders

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