#Did I almost write this as a ficlet...yes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

keyh0use · 28 days

Note

what do u think rafes reaction would be to first hearing barry speak spanish (especially for the first time too!!!)

Because I envision Barry as first gen, I think he has a soft spot for newcomers who struggle with the language barrier And I think I've written out maybe six different possibilities, some I've probably already posted here, but a (newer) favourite of mine is: Rafe and Barry make a trip off the island for a pick-up, something the older man likes to do by himself and it's the first time he's ever invited someone along to meet his supplier. Not that it's a big deal or anything. (it is, Barry's heart races every time Rafe shows even a smidgen of excitement) It's unusual for them to be so carefree. Even though Barry puts on a relaxed facade, he's always carrying, always prepared to be in some altercation. And Rafe's image and expectations loom over him, guide and guilt him in everything he does. Until they're an hour off the island, away from the judgemental stares of people who will never think they fit together, as anything. Even friends, which is all they are, of course.

On the way back they pull over at a tiny corner store to grab something to eat, knowing everything will be shut by the time they arrive back in the OBX. Rafe has zero experience with communities off the island, every vacation the Cameron's have taken so far have been to all inclusive resorts, where his family is treated like royalty; untouchable, never to be bothered. So he's a little jittery as they wander out of the truck and into the store, groups of people filtering in and out that are nothing like the self-involved kooks he's normally surrounded with, they're offering him easy greetings and stepping aside, not because of his status but out of natural kindness. It makes him stick closer to Barry with uncertainty, never straying any further than a few feet as they walk the aisles, grabbing snacks as they go. Then the checkout is backed up, two groups before them who are clearly growing annoyed as an older lady at the counter stumbles over her words, very flustered the longer the broken interaction continues. Barry can remember watching his parents go through the same thing as a child and it makes his heart ache, especially when the other customers start complaining just loud enough for him to hear. His father was a labourer and his mother did some under-the-table work, like babysitting, so he was the only one forced to socialise with the locals and in turn, learn English.

In a sense he was glad, because it meant they never had to hear the hurtful comments made about them when they were in situations just like this. So Barry takes it upon himself to step out of line, leaving a momentarily panicked Rafe with an easy be right back, to approach the cashier and bridge the gap, introducing himself in his native tongue and interrupting the obnoxiously slow-speaking asshole behind the register. Meanwhile, Rafe is standing frozen in the line, clutching a bag of crumbling chips in his large hand absentmindedly, fully enraptured by the scene playing out in front of him. He should have known Barry spoke Spanish, given how utterly obsessed he was with learning every single detail about his dealer. There were plenty of signs, he releases while thinking back, like cheerful cards with Feliz Navidad sprawled on the covers stacked amongst glossy restaurant coupons atop the fridge, and telenovelas quietly playing on the TV when Rafe finally rolls out of bed in the morning and Latin music the go-to while cleaning up around the trailer.

Still, Rafe is shocked silent, watching on as Barry listens intently before translating, again and again until the conversation has reached a satisfying conclusion. And just like every time the dealer watches over him when he's too high or drunk, every time Barry comforts him and brings him back down when he's too emotional, and every time premade plans are suddenly cancelled just because Rafe made an offhanded comment about wanting to hang out together: Rafe chest swells with affection at Barry's desire to take care of those around him.

Sometimes, admittedly, watching Barry help others makes Rafe uncomfortable. Even upset and angry. Possessiveness (even when unwarranted) tugging at his nerves, desire to be the only thing the dealer's attention goes into present at the most inappropriate times, like when some poor woman needed her tire changed on the side of a backroad. There's also a tug in Rafe's groin, too, obviously, which makes him look away bashfully when Barry finally moves to join him again. After that night it becomes a personal goal of Rafe's to see if he can elicit that part of Barry. Sometimes he'll start bickering over unimportant things, just picking apart sentences for no other reason than to be brat, just to hear Barry playfully curse him out. Rafe never misses a chance to visit with Barry's family, either, because he gets to hear his man socialise with an easiness that's usually not present and that accent Barry unknowingly slips into.

After that night it becomes a personal goal of Rafe's to hear more. Sometimes he'll start bickering over unimportant things, being a brat because it works in his favour, rejoicing when Barry playfully starts to curse him out. Rafe never misses a trip to visit Barry's family, no matter what he has to postpone, because he gets to watch his man socialise and unknowingly slip into an accent that drives the kook insane; Barry's usual southern twang, so unlike his own despite residing on the same island, showing through the foreign language, making it sound a thousand times more romantic than it already does.

It's not one-sided, either. Barry loves teaching Rafe, and that his boy is so willing and eager to learn. He doesn't laugh (too much) when Rafe butchers words, the two of them repeating it back and forth until the kooks wrapped his tongue around the syllables correctly. Barry also loves ordering Rafe around in the language he's only starting to become more familiar with, getting rewarded and praised when he follows the commands—but Barry will sometimes add on extra words just to throw him off, speak too fast for him to follow and watch as Rafe panics and scrambles to obey, giving the older man the perfect excuse to punish him. <3

Thanks for the ask!! <3 (and sorry I didn't answer it for like a week. I actually did...and then it got buried. PLUS tumblr does this weird thing where it says my posts can't be saved? And then I lose all my progress)

#did I get carried away and write more then I should've to answer your straightforward question?#probably #but I hope it was satisfactory anyway #I know Spanish is more commonly spoken in the states but idk if NC would be full of bilingual people #nobody knew Romanian when we arrived in Canada so that's my only experience #barry x rafe #rafe x barry #rafebarry #Did I almost write this as a ficlet...yes

14 notes · View notes

tanoraqui · 2 years

Text

A steady breeze carried both fresh air and the sounds of Tirion into Arafinwë’s study, blocked not at all by the low palace walls and the wide plaza between them and the city proper, and he welcomed both. He’d reviewed and signed all the paperwork he needed to sign by noon, but the late summer was hot here in the hills of the Calacirya, and if he admitted to being free, his brother would no doubt rope him into whatever last-minute scrambles were happening for the Festival of Stars next week. And if Nolofinwë didn’t, Lalwendë definitely would. He didn’t mind, really - he’d start lending a hand tomorrow, when the scramble started to reach a fever pitch. But surely he could spend one more lazy afternoon with the latest journal from Tirion University’s agricultural department?

The susurrus of a bustling city rose and fell, and rose again with increasingly loud cheers. Arafinwë paid it little mind, attention focused on an article about novel soil combinations, even as the cheers approached the palace - one of the guilds was no doubt unveiling an illicit sneak peek of their parade float, hoping to drum up early support in the public-voted contests. It was explicitly against the rules and it happened every year.

Then someone ran into the courtyard directly below his window, shouting, “The Crown Prince has arrived early, with his whole family! We need all those bedrooms turned out now!”

Arafinwë dropped the journal in his lap (page carefully held) and thunked his head against the back of his chair. Fëanáro, why. So much for his one more afternoon of peace - so much for the next two weeks of peace, with Fëanáro...

...still in Mandos, along with (almost) all his sons and, more recently, his only grandson, and Nerdanel hadn’t been to Tirion since the late First Age. It was 2,344 years into the Second Age, now. A stand by the door held a sheathed sword, which fortunately he hadn’t needed to draw in millennia; the shelves were decorated with not just artwork from throughout Eldamar but relics from Beleriand, souvenirs from Númenor. Arafinwë, not his father, was the High King of the Noldor in Tirion-upon-Túna. And the Crown Prince now riding up the hill to the palace, leading what sounded like half the city in an impromptu celebratory parade, was his eldest son, Findarato, called Finrod since his sojourn in Middle Earth, in company with his wife Amarië and their five daughters, Arafinwë’s granddaughters, Nolórë, Mínakánis, Satarissë, Tinúviel, and Maranwiel.

Unless they’d had yet another in their time away, without telling anyone except perhaps the distant Avari they’d been visiting. It wouldn’t be the first time.

(It would not, it occurred to Arafinwë, have been the first time for Fëanáro and Nerdanel to have done that, either. Minus the Avari, of course.)

Finrod and Amarië’s voices rose in song together, quickly joined by their daughters and half the crowd. Tinúviel, true to her name, was precocious in the skill of her singing voice.

Arafinwë kept staring at the ceiling for a few more quiet minutes, agricultural journal forgotten in his lap, and thought about the nature of reprises.

#the silmarillion #finarfin #finrod #my fic #ficlet #this fic brought to you by: I had multiple unrelated headcanons about post-reembodiment!Finrod #and then I looked at the headcanons in conjunction and went “wait fuck”#and then I decided to give that “wait fuck” moment to Finrod’s father #for the high crime of being one of my favorite minimally explored characters #IS IT just a matter of destiny that the crown prince of the noldor in aman will be a very multi-interested person who travels a lot and #has an increasingly large horde/cacaphony of children? or chicken and eff is this the sort of person the noldor just like to cheer?#answer: yes #also if you wanna know if my arafinwe is specifically interested in agriculture: no he reads all sorts of scientific journals for fun #he rarely feels the drive to lead investigation himself but indis didn't name him 'the noldo' for nothing #periodically he'll write someone a letter like 'have you tried this angle of thought' or 'you should consult with [person in a completely #different field of study]' and it almost always helps with some sort of breakthrough; this too is why they keep elecitng him high king #(though not yet at this point in the timeline. yes yes eventually i'll sit down and make a a timeline of royal elections of the noldor)#oh also YES finrod names all his kids after dead mortals whom he loved of COURSE he did #he doesn't go in order though; it's vibes by child #nolore (wise heart) for andreth saelind #minakanis (eager chieftain) for barahir; sararisse (loyal companion/follower) for beor #tinuviel is actually her mothername; her father name means 'boldness' (beren); that girl is gonna Shake Things Up one day idk quite how #and maranwiel 'daughter of destiny' for turin whom finrod wishes he'd met bc he gets that fate can be a bitch and turin sounds like he meant #well all the time and tried his best for nargothrond

51 notes · View notes

lemonduckisnowawake · 29 days

Text

*gasps as I crawl up to this blog, covered in blood and sweat and gore* After 300 pages of story scenes, 700 pages of short stories, multiple documents of additional short story dumps, 7 folders, and some other things, I have successfully found at *least* FIVE romance scenes that aren't written with hatred and pain, aren't written out of spite, aren't made to be ridiculous and/or funny, aren't heavily made to be an allegory, aren't noncanon cause meh, AND aren't made to be a tragedy. At least 5 (it's sadly less than five but I'm done looking at what I didn't) small written things in over 6 years of Serious Writing that feature a romance that is soft, taken seriously, canon, AND not made to be purposefully ridiculous cause I Could Not.

All that to prove to a friend I could do romance softly and seriously after they shared something really very sweet and well written. ALL THAT JUST TO SHOW THAT I KIND OF ALREADY SHARED SOMETHING LIKE THAT A FEW WEEKS BACK

#i hate romance #it is suffering. it is pain. it hates me just as much as i hate it #AND THE THING IS #i may cry about my allergy to the feeling but I'm actually...okay???? with it???#like most of my beef with it is the fact that people expect me to think it matters personally to my life (no)#or that it's just...badly treated even in fiction trying to glorify it (that's the first problem)#lemon duck quacks #by the way the thing i finally shared was still very funny (to me) but honestly sickeningly cute and awkward #i cannot believe i wrote it #lets see...there was skies (implied romance though)#then two non canon ficlets (hence they didn't COUNT)#and two separate things that were 20 pages (ew. old writing) and 14 pages (a lot funner) but TOO LONG #so ...4 in total #i am almost certain that i DID have something in my fairy tale retellings folder #But You Would Not Believe The Amount of Romances That Focused on Dynamics Between People That were NOT The Main Couple #like i would have people react to it or have some Outside Dynamic between one of the couple members and someone else #discussing it #oh there was also the chives romance scene (had outside interference though and not really soft)#and another outside interference awkward flirting scene (so also didn't count)#and yes i KNOW for a fact that I inserted characters to interrupt romances on purposes because younger me disliked having them #but really and earnestly thought books should have it at least somewhere for non mcs #anyway i think will go lie down and contemplate my choice to use a sunday to hunt down any (relatively) sane romances I'd written

1 note · View note

cambion-companion · 4 months

Text

Ripples

Bathael, beloved. Larian really did a number on us with that Sharess Caress suite and that pool and all those lovely rose petals. Thought I would write something inspired by this anon ask:

Raphael bath after a shitty battle. Whether he won or lost, he deserves a very luxurious bath 🛁

Raphael x gn!reader | ficlet | bathing, wine and roses

The sweet scent of roses and cherries filled your nostrils as you sank back into the velvet water of Raphael's personal bathing pool. A soft smile curved your lips, your eyes closed as you floated for a moment, hearing only the song of the rippling water, the sputtering of the candles and the slow rhythm of your own breathing.

The sound of the door opening cause you to squint one eye at Raphael as he entered, his human guise bearing no form of clothing. You flushed from head to toe and tried valiantly to act unbothered. "I didn't expect you to join me, Raphael."

He stepped up the stone steps, his sharp eyes fixed on you. "How shortsighted of you, little mouse. After all, everything within these walls belongs to me."

Ignoring the obvious meaning behind his words, you sat up slightly to make room for him. Immediately as Raphael reclined, you noticed the water temperature begin to rise.

"Tell me." Raphael continued, amused by your silence. "Haven't you a city to save?" He swirled a finger in the water idly. "Something more productive than sitting in a devil's pool...like a frog in a pot."

"Oh, so I'm a frog now, am I?" You tilted your head, finding again that easy banter that had always existed between you two. "The madame informed me your room had been vacated."

"She was dishonest with you." Raphael's amusement increased and he chuckled low. "How utterly quaint."

"Apparently." You replied, dryly. "But at least she provided free drink." You turned your back to him and reached to where your goblet and wine bottle stood waiting. You now noticed the madame had left two glasses upon the lip of the bath and rolled your eyes. "Ah, yes she knew exactly what she was doing."

Raphael's eyes studied for a moment how the rivulets of crystal water ran down your skin and dewed upon your hair. Then he smiled easily once more when you turned back, taking the offered wine smoothly. "Curious." He sipped, raising a brow in an almost playful fashion. "I don't recall paying for company."

"And I don't recall working here." You laughed a little, shifting as the water had become rather hot. "Yet here we are."

"Yet here we are." Raphael echoed. The way he suddenly was looking at you made your lips part, and your head suddenly feel empty and too full at the same time.

Raphael extended his hand to you, beckoning once. "Come closer." He grinned at your hesitance. "I won't bite. Not today."

You could leave. Apologize and get out of there. Yet something drew you to him, as a moth to flame, and soon you felt his skin touching yours.

You took his hand, and he brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles. "Very good. You have nothing to fear from me, my dear." He tilted your chin up until your eyes met. "Not yet. Now, let us see where this evening takes us."

#raphael bg3 #raphael x reader #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael the cambion #fanfic #drabble #ficlet #ask prompt #bathael #sharess caress

314 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 5 months

Note

Navy how's our lumber snack doing with Christmas around the corner? Are they snuggled up by the fire with hot cocoa?

That's exactly what he's doing, nonnie!

By the Fireplace

Pairing: Lumberjack!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve is exactly where he needs to be. Word Count: Over 500 Warnings: Fluff, Steve experiencing peace, established relationship, Steve Rogers (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Tiny ficlet for Beefcake and Tippy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The fireplace glowed with radiant flames as Steve took a seat on the floor beside you. He had added a couple of logs before he made the hot chocolate, the sweet scent of the warm beverage drifting to his nostrils before he took a sip. Soft music filled the air and he couldn’t help but smile when he caught you humming along. Like him, you didn’t want anything over-the-top for the holidays.

Just the pleasure of being with each other was more than enough.

“Don’t worry. I won’t damage your ears by singing,” you teased as you stretched a blanket over the two of you to share.

He chuckled as he wrapped a pair of strong arms around you. “It would take a lot more than your singing to damage my ears,” he teased back, brushing his beard along your cheek to make you giggle, the sound soft and pleasant. “So sing as much as you’d like.”

“I think I’ll just stick to writing,” you smiled, leaning into him with a gentle sigh. “Steve?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You didn’t say anything right away, but you did place a hand over his. “This is enough for you, right? This life?”

“It’s more than enough,” he answered without hesitation, hoping he hadn’t done or said something to make you think otherwise. He loved the home and life the two of you made together. If he did something to make you think otherwise, he’d have to remedy that immediately.

“Are you sure? There isn’t a small part of you that wishes you were fighting tonight?” You asked, tilting your head so you could stare into his eyes.

You once told Steve that you liked looking into people’s eyes because they always told the truth when some often weaved lies with their words. You chose to listen to the unspoken gazes. The eyes also conveyed so much emotion, the very windows to the soul because you could see right through them.

And he had nothing to hide from you.

He understood why you asked though. Deep down he was still the man of action who couldn’t turn a blind eye when things pointed south. But you were the one of the reasons he still occasionally fought. He had a home to defend and someone to come back to. Something to fight for.

You were his home.

“No. Not tonight,” he replied with an unwavering tone and stare so you’d know how serious he was. “This is exactly where I’m meant to be. Right by our fireplace with hot chocolate nearby and you in my arms.”

With soft eyes full of love, you brought your lips to his. It ignited a flame inside him almost as warm and bright as the crackling fire feet away. The pieces of his heart that he struggled to put together after the ice connected the moment the two of you met. You were his glue and strength.

And like the winter holiday encouraged, he felt a sense of love and peace by being in the moment.

Just like Bucky, Steve deserves peace, too. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

209 notes · View notes

passportclown · 22 days

Note

heyyy I saw that you write for Transformers.. you didnt say which transformers though so Ill assume all? just ignore this if not.

could you write something for G1 Soundwave and Starscream both liking the same human reader? headcanons pls

Oh hi!! Yes, I write for all Transformers. I haven't watched them all but for any request I'd research the specific characters to write them as accurate as possible.

You didn't specify if you wanted angsty, lighthearted, etc.. so I'll go with G1 goofiness mixed with my own style. Nor did you specify romantic or platonic. But I think it's Romantic? I couldn't tell if the reader was into them both as well.. so I tried my own approach! If this isn't right, re-send an ask (if you want)! o.o Headcanons below!

Warnings: Kidnapping (but it's not taken too seriously) , slight ignorance towards human comfort and physical limitations , slightly forced relationship but it's ambiguous as to whether it's platonic yearning or romantic yearning , maybe slight yandere?? my kofi if you feel like donating

Soundwave:

Well, you must have done something to get this con's attention. But now you've got it, and you're very much unlikely to lose it.

Soundwave likes to think he's calm and smart.

He's got his cassettes, he's got his position, he's got Lord Megatron.. everything's good.

He never assumed that he'd want a human as well.

And yet, he does.

He treats it as a simple desire to ignore. Like how humans crave chocolate but ignore it and get salad instead.

Well, at least, that's what he thought humans did. He soon found out that it's hard to ignore such cravings.

He couldn't stop thinking of you. So, he'd send out Ravage or Lazerbeak to watch you. Just so he could understand his strange desire further.

It didn't make sense, but he wanted you.

He watched, and admired the little things about you. But then.. one of his Cassettes informed him that Starscream was watching you as well.

He had even taken you in the recent fight..

Soundwave couldn't have that.

Starscream:

You must be quite the organic for Starscream of all Decepticons to like you.

Of course, he'd ignore his feelings at first. Or assume it's his clearly genius processor formatting some sort of plan involving an organic squishy.

But alas, he truly likes you.

Once he realizes his feelings, he denies them insistently. No way does he like a human! They're small, weak, easily crushed but..

Also cute.

He's a very rash individual. What he wants, he gets.

And he wants you.

He doesn't immediately jump into it, of course.

That'd be desperate.

He ignores the stares he gets from others, particularly Soundwave, convincing himself it was paranoia. He was being very careful!

No, he watches.. and waits..

And at the perfect moment, with you struggling to run in the midst of a Decepticon attack..

Well, who would notice if he just hid you in his cockpit?

Small ficlet:

Starscream got you to stop struggling from his affection.

Now you sat still in one hand as the other roughly pet you. He didn't quite have the hang of it, almost pulling out your hair and tugging at your clothes. His metallic hand would pat your head, then roughly slide down and grip your body. Over and over, in a repetitive motion.

He had a nasty grin, you couldn't quite tell what he was feeling but he was certainly pleased.

It's not that he's unattractive or anything, for a giant alien robot.. he is! But you were trying to avoid getting stepped on and he shoved you in a cramped space, shook you around as he walked, jostled you as he flew, and now he's roughly petting you.

Then.. Starscream jolts as the door opens.

"Starscream: Explain" A more robotic voice speaks, though it sounds as if it's accompanied by some sort of auto-tune. He really does speak like a robot constantly making a report. The Third in Command of the Decepticons, Soundwave. It's impossible to tell with his mask, but you suspect he's displeased.

"Wh- Soundwave! Why didn't you knock!? I am your superior-" Starscream yelps when Soundwave slams his hand against the wall, leaning over Starscream and prying into his mind.

There's a brief moment of absolute tension. Then Soundwave pulls back, and stares down at you. He pries you from Starscream's tight grip, attempting to be as gentle as possible. Starscream grunts, and glares at Soundwave.

"..I presume you'll be reporting this incident to Megatron and getting rid of the fleshy?" Starscream asks with a snarl, trying to pretend you mean much less to him than you actually do.

But Soundwave got enough of a read of his emotions from that peek into his mind.

"Soundwave: Might. Unless.." Soundwave continues, then leans forward once more and dangles you in front of Starscream like bait.

It works.

"Unless what?!" Starscream squawks, unable to keep up his uncaring and confident facade for more than a moment.

Soundwave stares, but not at Starscream this time.

At you.

Even you can tell through his red visor, seeing a brief flicker of light, that he's staring right at you.

"Starscream: Will share human with Soundwave."

-

That was the start of an odd situation.

Starscream didn't know as much about taking care of humans as he thought he did.

Soundwave got you a more comfortable place to rest, food, water, everything you need.

Of course, neither Decepticon let you leave.

They would routinely swap you between their respective spaces.

Starscream hated it, and Soundwave tolerated it.

But if Soundwave just took you, Starscream would make trouble.

And if Starscream kept you, Soundwave would report him.

So they're at an impasse.

And you're in the middle.

It's not all bad.

You think in some.. weird alien robot way that they both love you?

Maybe not exactly romantically, but close enough that they both want to keep and hold you.

They listen to you well enough, as long as you use honeyed words with Starscream and speak more pragmatically with Soundwave.

It's a decent exchange for them, and a new but tolerable change for you.

You might be a pet, or maybe some odd flavor of partner, maybe just a friend. It's hard to tell. But at least you don't pay rent.

I really hope you liked this. 🥺

#Transformers x Reader #x Reader #Starscream x Reader #Starscream #Soundwave x Reader #Soundwave #G1 Transformers #Gender Neutral Reader #Passport Writes #Transformers #maccadams #can be seen as #platonic #romantic #or ambiguous #ambiguous yandere #I don't know if this counts as it..

142 notes · View notes

kiame-sama · 2 months

Note

Hello, Can you write more yanChrollo with the newly hijacked and autistic reader? Maybe where the reader is not yet used to Chrollo or the situation, And afraid of him and the rest of the members

I would like to make the reader male but if you prefer to make the reader female then I don't mind at all

I am now in my twenties

Thank you so much

Warnings; yandere, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, autistic reader, male reader, mention of kidnapping, less than pleased reader, tough situations, ficlet (not a fullblown fic), somewhat hurt/comfort,

(Despite being a male reader, still using my own autism as a reference)

~~~~~~~~

"Why are we just letting him-"

"Don't question Boss. His soulmate, his rules."

"But why the hell is he just letting his soul mate sit in the corner like that?"

You watched them closely as you sat and stared, trying to keep to yourself as best you could. It had been days but you still couldn't bring yourself to relax among the group of people that had so readily grabbed you off the street. They were much more openly curious than Chrollo- the man they had grabbed you for- and clearly did not care if you could hear them or not.

Chrollo, the man that claimed you as his soulmate, had been rather keen on letting you acclimate to him but also keeping you in his sight. Luckily, he did give you some privacy, but he was never too far away from you even when you were out of his sight. Even when you slept you knew he was somewhere nearby and it only made your stress levels rise.

"No sense in upsetting him more than getting him to me had," Chrollo, spoke with a vague grin on his lips, "clearly I just have to learn how to best interact with him, that is all."

"I can hear you."

"I know you can, my darling (Y/n). However, you are not keen on talking, so there is no point in making you talk."

"... But there is a point in taking me from my home?"

Chrollo turned to you now, intentionally blinking in an attempt to come across as less threatening despite how it obviously didn't fool you. Still, he was learning what unsettled you and what was going to keep you calm. Any progress in relaxing you around him was good progress in Chrollo's eyes.

"Yes. As I explained earlier, we are soulmates. You can distrust me as much as you wish, you will eventually never want to leave my side. Soulmates are connected for a reason, Dear."

You just let out a soft humming sound in response to his words, drumming your fingers against your arm idly. Chrollo continued to smile at you despite your lack of response before returning to his book. The other members of the group didn't seem to feel the same way as they continued to glance at you suspiciously from time to time.

The sounds from the outside wre muffled but absolutely enough to occupy you. Not many cars went by, but there were still the various barks of dogs as others passed the abandoned building you were held captive inside of. Despite the sounds, your eyes stayed fixed on the relaxed figure of Chrollo.

The more you stared, the more your situation began to weigh on you. A very faint sting of salty tears burned your eyes as your throat seemed to tighten with distress. When you finally dropped your gaze, you had to hide your face against your arms and you pulled your knees to your chest. The first few tears fell quickly but you tried your best to remain as quiet as possible to not draw attention to your now sensitive state.

It was while you choked back any sounds from escaping that you felt something drape over your shoulders. Whatever it was almost seemed like a blanket and you quickly took to wrapping yourself in the material. The faint brush of fur against your arms brought to mind thoughts of the coat Chrollo always wore and you gathered just what the item was.

A soft sound of movement next to you made you peak one eye past your arms where you hid your face, seeing Chrollo settle an arm's length away from you. He leaned against the wall as he sat- completely topless- and opened his book back to whatever page he had been on. He didn't even glance at you as you stared at him, trying to gauge what he was doing. Without missing a beat, Chrollo spoke in a soft tone to you, the low rumble of his voice somewhat soothing your anxious heart.

"I know it is a frightening time for you. You're somewhere new. Somewhere you don't know very well. It all is so sudden and confusing for you. I understand. Even if you don't trust me now, I still don't wish to bear the thought of you hurting all by yourself."

Chrollo had that grin again, the one where he seemed to be both bemused and patiently waiting. You couldn't tell if you liked that look on him or not.

"You will warm to me eventually. For now, take comfort in the fact I have quite the patience. I can wait as long as I need to until you begin to trust me."

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #hxh yandere #yandere chrollo #tw autism #tw kidnap mention

128 notes · View notes

sinisterexaggerator · 3 months

Text

I'll Put It On Your Tab

Wrecker x Gen! Reader

Warnings: Threats made with a blaster. Violence. Attempted robbery. A broken bone or two. Fluff, and a kiss. "Established" relationship vibes.

962 words

Notes: I decided to write a series of "goodbye" ficlets where the reader takes / removes something from each of CF99 as they part ways, however this one deviated a little bit from that path. In this case, the story is left open-ended.

For you, @allsystemsblue. I know you love Wreck. :D

Crosshair || Echo || Hunter || Tech

---

“I don’t want any trouble,” you pleaded, hands held high above your shoulders with arms bent at the elbows. The masked man before you held his blaster level with your abdomen, making a motion for you to fill his sack with all your credits.

“Everything,” he growled. “Put it in the bag.”

Trembling, you rushed to comply, your hard-earned money being forfeit to this brute who was sure to kill you if you did not obey his brusque command.

Your business was Mantell Mix in Ord Mantell City; you barely made ends meet as a simple street vendor. You had a few faithful customers, some more so than others, but otherwise you lived day-to-day off cartons sold. He was sure to clean you out; you would have to eat your product or starve until tomorrow, though the alternative was death.

You supposed you might just count your blessings and be thankful should he keep his word and spare you.

“Hurry up!” he barked; you jumped despite yourself, dropping your remaining profits on the ground for them to scatter at his feet. You gasped, afraid for any repercussions, immediately falling to your knees before him to quickly gather what you could to placate the increasingly impatient man.

“Karkin’ imbecile!” he hissed, pushing you backward by the heel of his boot. You fell onto your rump, staring up with horrified, wide eyes as he took aim at the space between them, tears threatening to fall as your heart crashed wildly behind your ribs.

“I’m sorry—” you began, tilting your head farther, fear expelled to be replaced with elation as your knight in not-so-shining armor loomed above your attacker, massive arms folded across the broad expanse of his chest.

“Is this guy bothering you?” Wrecker asked, almost comically so. He could not help himself, loving to make an entrance, no matter how dire the situation, it seemed.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, scurrying back on the palms of your hands before you attempted to stand. In that same moment, the perp and his half-filled sack of money swung around, Wrecker squeezing the barrel of his blaster so tightly, that he crushed it under the pressure of his fist.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size,” the clone demanded beneath his bucket, though this man was nowhere near the height of your darling hero. You watched with bated breath, your would-be robber struggling in vain within his grasp, his mutilated weapon tumbling awkwardly from his grip.

The sack of money had been abandoned, your assailant of the mind he would need both hands to ward off this towering giant who had made it his job to protect you. Though you thought to retrieve what was yours, you did not move a single muscle, watching the scene unfold as you silently thanked your lucky stars.

“Piss off!” the thug seethed, a flurry of motions catching your attention; something glinted in the streetlight above your humble cart.

“Wrecker!” you cried out, a hidden blade unsheathed. He appreciated your warning, but it was not necessary.

A twist and then a crack. The knife was just as easily discarded. The man screamed, though his cry of pain was momentary. Wrecker’s plastoid helmet had met with his skull, knocking him flat in the dirt with a resounding thud.

As soon as he was down for the count, you endeavored to wrap yourself around him; you hugged your rescuer as tightly as you could, though your arms would not even begin to enclose the entirety of his waist.

“Thank you,” you breathed, gazing up. Wrecker chortled nervously, rubbing the back of his head absentmindedly, even though his gear was in the way.

“Aww, it wasn’t nothing.” He shyly brushed away your gratitude. Wrecker always felt that way with you – shy - though he was not sure what it meant.

You reached; you wanted to see his handsome face. He was beautiful to you, regardless of his many scars.

Wrecker obliged, craning his neck so that you might remove his helmet and set it off to the side. He smiled down at you, a twinkle sparkling in the umber depths of his good eye.

For a moment, he seemed proud. “I sure showed him!” he announced happily.

“You did,” you assured him kindly, unable to help yourself as you traced the raised lines spidering across his skin. You repaid his smile with one of your own, turning to rummage through your cart.

“I have something for you,” you said, withdrawing a fresh carton of his favorite treat. You took a piece between your fingers and offered it to him. He hesitated, finally bending down to gingerly take the small kernel between his teeth.

“Mmm,” he hummed, politely chewing with his mouth closed. You offered another, this time replacing it with a press of your lips to his when he least expected.

Wrecker’s eyes rounded to saucers before he gradually relaxed, the surprisingly gentle man taking up either side of your face in the curves of his palms. His fingers came to rest just beneath your ears, the rebel clone using this opportunity to draw you in.

“This is better than Mantell Mix,” he mumbled against you; you tried to suppress a laugh, having meant to deepen your connection.

Instead, you grinned, opening eyes that had been shut so that you could lovingly regard him. You returned your hand to his face, cradling his jaw. “I owe you my life,” you whispered.

You thought you saw a hint of a blush as he stumbled to reply. "Uhhh- I'll settle for that," he bashfully requested.

You could barely contain your glee as you rose up on your tiptoes to kiss him one more time. "I'll put it on your tab,” you quipped playfully.

#Wrecker TBB #Wrecker Bad Batch #Wrecker x Reader #Clone Wars #The Bad Batch #TBB #Gender Neutral #Gender Neutral Reader #Fanfic #Fluff #star wars #clones #Wrecker #My writing

119 notes · View notes

whiskersz · 2 months

Text

Hi again, saw your requests are open again, so can I request Vox x female reader? As for the plot: The Reader and Vox got together during the 7 years that Alastor was absent, so reader never encountered the more manic and obsessed side of her boyfriend when it comes to his enemy. And so, now that Alastor is back Vox started acting a bit differently and reader is worried about him and his mental health. So she confronts him about it. (Just to clarify, I want this to be fluff or sort of hurt-comfort and you can either do one-shots or ficlet, I'm up for whatever) ~Ghost/👻 (you're never getting rid of me now >:3)

First of all, hi Ghost! My PC won't let me visualize your rq so I had to do this...anyways, this I admit was hard to write which is a shame because I loved this idea? So much? I feel like Vox isn't Voxing and the hurt-comfort is there only if you squint...I'll do better next time ;'3

Vox x Fem! Reader

Warning for : mentions of stalking

The digital clock indicated that it was already late at night, three in the morning precisely.

You hadn’t been awakened by something, no, in fact you had never fallen asleep in the first place. Troubled by thoughts of your own boyfriend, you laid in the king size bed of your shared bedroom, anxiously scrolling on your phone in desperate search of yet another distraction from the fact that this had been yet another day consisting of getting ignored by him.

And yet there you were, waiting for him to join you in bed, worried because he had always been a near perfect example of a partner, at least in your viewpoint, but now all he was able to concentrate on was that... Alastor, the Radio Demon.

Just thinking about that name brought back anxiety into your chest.

Knowing very well that the feeling of tightness and shortness of breath wouldn’t have subsided anytime soon if you decided to stay in bed for who knows how many more hours, you stood up, the sudden change in temperature making you wrap your arms around your own figure.

The red moon shone a path to the elevator with its light, almost as if it was telling you to go for it and confront him.

And so you did; taking the elevator to the room you had guessed he was in, you impatiently waited for the doors to open in front of you.

When they did, you were almost blinded by the light emitting from the disproportionate number of screens present in Vox’s office.

He was sitting there, mumbling to himself, checking cameras placed on the various streets leading to the Hazbin Hotel. You shuddered; he was most likely too caught up in what could’ve been considered the stalking of his enemy that he didn’t hear you enter the room.

“Vox...”

You called his name, but he didn’t respond.

“Vox.”

You tried again, this time more resolute, and he turned around, startled; all the screens turned off in unison except for the one that served as his head, which became the only source of light in the entire office.

Vox hadn’t even bothered to change into his nightwear, you noticed; he was still wearing his suit, he had just removed the blazer and placed it on the backrest of his office chair.

“Ah, darling. Whatever are you doing up this late...?” he asked, recomposing himself.

You simply stared at him with concern written all over your face, an expression of pure worry. Careful not to trip on anything, you slowly made your way towards him, your arms still crossed as if to comfort yourself.

“I should be the one asking that question, it’s three and you’re still here checking for traces of Alastor on every camera of the city. Come to bed.” You ranted quietly, seeing what time it was, even though you were almost sure the other Vee’s couldn’t here you from where you were.

Vox sighed, placing a hand on his forehead. Being reminded of the time and of what he was doing most likely made him realize how exhausted he was.

“Yes, yes...I’ll come to bed, just...” he trailed off, not sure what to say himself.

You caught the opportunity to continue your rant, but not before grabbing his blazer and carefully folding it to then place it on his desk. His eyes followed your figure the entire time.

“I’m worried about you, you do nothing but obsess over him these days, and you end up not taking care of yourself and others around you enough, you know?” you said, obviously referring to yourself in your last statement.

You hadn’t gone on a date with Vox in a while, hadn’t taken the time to relish in each other’s presence in what felt like months – and it had probably been that long.

“If only you could understand.” he whispered, visibly irritated by your words, which was something you had barely witnessed during these years of relationship.

“I’ll let you explain, so I’ll be able to. Just, for now, let’s go to bed? I’m worried about your health.”

Another sigh from Vox; you extended your hand, which he grabbed. The closer he got to you the brighter his screen seemed; you couldn’t wait for it to be turned off, you could feel a headache coming on.

The only thing you knew about Vox and Alastor’s history was that they never agreed on matters concerning technology, and that Alastor had disappeared for seven years. This didn’t really explain why your boyfriend was so obsessed with the Radio Demon though, it made no sense to you; there had to be another reason why he was so consumed by their rivalry.

A reason he clearly wasn’t going to share in that moment, as once you arrived in your bedroom he practically threw himself on the bed. You followed suit, covering both your figures with the blanket you had discarded previously.

“Promise you’ll explain soon.” You said, staring up at him.

Vox didn’t want to lose you at all, he realized when he looked into your eyes right then and there. You were putting up with the ugliest side of his personality, for which he had to feel honoured. He cupped your cheek and you leaned into his touch.

“I’ll do my best. For you.”

His hand moved from your cheek to your waist, pulling you closer. This was more like the Vox that you knew. With a promise that you’d get an explanation the following day, you finally let yourself fall asleep against his chest.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #x reader #vox x reader #vox x you #vox x fem reader #fem reader #vox hazbin hotel #vox hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin

111 notes · View notes

bots-and-cons · 6 months

Note

Tiny ficlet/or hc’s/ or whatever your heart feels

Ratchet befriends a local coffee shop owner (afab) when the owner swung through the hospital June works at to give the night shift nurses free caffeine on the house has a treat. June was letting Ratchet shadow her in holoform on her shift after Ratchet asked to learn more medical info for humans in case the teams human partners ever need med attention. Maybe light banter/ how relationship develops either romantically or just has friends / Mr- caffeine-is-bad-for-you-Ratchet vs up-all-night-barista-jugging-coffee-by-the-gallon

Uuu, I like this idea. I felt like HCs was the best fit for this. I felt like a scenario would get way too long for me, and it would also take forever to write, so HCs it is. Also I don’t drink any kind of coffee, so forgive my ignorance on that front. I tagged this as humanformers, since it’s holoform stuff

•He’s never been one for coffee, but he decided to try it out one late evening

•Your coffee shop is open really late, and after he tasted the coffee in the hospital break room, he wasn’t very optimistic that it was going to be any good either

•There were a lot of options and he had a hard time deciding, so he asked you what you would recommend

•You asked him what he liked and he confessed he hadn’t really drank much coffee before

•There aren’t really any other customers around, and you think he’s kinda cute, so you offer to let him sample a couple of things, and if he doesn’t like them, you can just drink them yourself

•You make him a latte and an americano and let him taste some of both

•He decides he likes the americano more and orders a cup to go

•You chat with him while making the drink, and he finds that you’re very nice to talk to

•Ratchet talks with you about some stuff, and before he knows it, his break is over, and he’s already late with getting back to June

•He thinks his coffee runs might turn into a habit whenever he’s at the hospital

•You hope to see him again soon, and he does come by every now and then

•You hadn’t been able to do it for a while, but you decide to take coffee to the nurses that you’re friendly with, and you’re hoping to see Ratchet too

•You close up shop and carry as much coffee to the closest nurse’s station as you can

•The nurses are all very happy to see you and a lot of them joke about how much better your coffee is compared to what they have in the break room

•Ratchet also happens to be there that night, and he’s happy to see you, which he doesn’t really make known, he just greets you kindly and the two of you start talking while he sips his coffee

•Ratchet still doesn’t exactly like coffee, but he noticed it helps keep him awake, and it’s a good excuse to come see you

•He starts to come by the coffee shop more and more, and eventually you ask him out by writing it on the cup

•Ratchet almost doesn’t notice the little text on the cup, and he throws it away, but as it’s going into the trash, he notices you wrote something on it, and he gets it out of the trash can to check

•He’s glad he did, because you wrote your phone number and a “wanna go out?” on it

•You notice him digging the cup out of the trash can, and chuckle to yourself

•Ratchet sends you a message like ten minutes later

•”Yes, I would like to go out with you” it says

•You’re all smiles for the rest of the day and to be honest, he can feel himself smiling a lot too, especially after you ask him “Where would you like to go?”

•You set up a date and as it draws nearer, Ratchet finds himself getting increasingly nervous

•He doesn’t really know how he ended up in this situation, but now he’s going out with a human, and he’s very happy with you

#transformers #tfp #transformers prime #autobots #ratchet #tfp headcanons #transformers fluff #reader insert #tfp x reader #transformers x reader #humanformers

119 notes · View notes

shmaptainwrites · 4 months

Note

wait i lied do childhood besties to enemies to lovers PLS

betsie ngl it took me a minute to figure out a good plot for this concept that i could do justice with the length i'm going for so now that i have something i really hope you like it! also atp it isn’t a mini blurb it’s a full on ficlet cause i just kept writing LMAO

Pairings: Fitzwilliam Darcy x GN!Reader

Warnings: Wickham mention (yes that's a valid warning bc he sucks), minor height descriptions (again i'm sorry)

Lost Years

Your least favourite time of year was always the time you visited Pemberley with your siblings. It had been that way for a while now, you probably could have pinpointed the date if you tried hard enough.

But just as every year before it was unavoidable.

It used to be an occasion of good fun. Two of your closest friends lived on the estate and you would savour every chance you got to spend with them both, but as you grew older and responsibilities set in, so did the disputes. Your close friendship had become fragmented along with your heart.

The first few days you tried to make sure you were always with at least one of your siblings, or maybe even Miss Georgiana Darcy which would create a buffer for the tension between you and her older brother.

As the estate was so large, it was always possible that by mere coincidence, one may end up in a room alone with another individual.

That quickly became the case for you, as you walked in the library, perusing the selection of books curated by the late Mr. Darcy and his son.

You went to reach for a book on a shelf you could not reach and before you could even thinking of a further attempt to grab it, someone reached from behind you and brought the book.

When you turned around and saw it was the younger Mr. Darcy you couldn't help the sharp remark that slipped past your lips.

"I could have gotten it myself. There was no need for that."

"And I suppose you would have climbed the shelves to accomplish that," he snapped right back.

"I find myself in a different mood than before. You may keep the book, Mr. Darcy," you said curtly and began to walk away.

"Am I to assume that nothing that comes from my hand will be accepted?" he asked.

You turned around.

"Miss, I have delt with your contempt of me in as amiable of a manner as I thought I was capable, but this has crossed a boundary."

"I have crossed a boundary?" you blinked, pointing to yourself. "I believe maybe you should have thought of that when you refused to give Wickham his portion entitled to him of your father's estate!"

Mr. Darcy stared at you blankly for a moment before his expression hardened.

"If Wickham is where your loyalties lie then perhaps contempt on both sides is justified."

"I disagree," you shook your head. "When he told me I could not believe what I was hearing. That you of all people could be so cold and unloving towards a friend. If you could do something like that to Wickham what was stopping you from doing it to me?"

"And what exactly did he tell you?" Mr. Darcy asked and you didn't hesitate to recount Wickham's version of the events.

You could see what almost looked like shock on Mr. Darcy's face as he saw in what light he was being painted, but he allowed you to finish before saying anything.

"I don't suppose you have anything to say for youself," you crossed your arms over your chest.

"That isn't what happened," he said simply.

"T-That isn't what happened? Really Mr. Darcy is that all you can-,"

"I swear it to you," he said. "Ask Mr. Bingley, if you must, but that is not what happened after my father's death."

You loosened your stance, letting your arms fall to your side.

"If not, then what did happen?"

Mr. Darcy took a breath before beginning to explain to you the events following his father's death. He was able to say in great detail what had occured, lining up his story with the timeline of events that had occured in his own life and Wickham's. Even things you had witnessed to your friend's character. Suddenly everything came crashing back down to reality.

When he finished speaking you had to excuse yourself in order to sit down on one of the couches behind you.

"Years," you whispered. "I went on for years believing this."

"You were listening to a friend you thought you could trust," Mr. Darcy even went as far as defending your actions towards him, when all this time he had been innocent of what he was accused. "I understand that this is a lot of information to take in, but may I ask you something?"

"Yes, I suppose," you nodded your head.

"Why didn't you ever ask me about this?"

Of everything he could have asked you, it had to be that. You closed your eyes and swallowed thickly.

"Mr. Darcy I-I'm not sure it would be appropriate to say."

"I have delt with many things much more difficult than this," he assured you. "Please...answer the question."

You chuckled softly to youself,

"We were young, Fitz," you looked over to him and you could see his face soften at the childhood nickname you called him. It was so easy how one word could transport you back in time, maybe a time where things were simpler. "I-," you shook your head and held it in your hands, massaging your temples. The words had become caught in your throat. "I-I-I loved you and if I spoke to you and it was true? It was easier to believe him and spare myself the hurt of hearing it from you directly."

You couldn't sit next to him, quickly standing and moving towards a window instead.

"The thought of finding out someone for which you feel so deeply, might be capable to do something of such an unkindly nature was too much for me to bear I-I'm so sorry."

"You loved me," he whispered softly. "Past tense."

"If I didn't love you, would I care this much about your treatment of Wickham?" you looked back at him, tears glistening in your eyes.

Mr. Darcy stood from his seat and slowly made his way towards you, gingerly reaching for your hand before finally clasping it in his own and bringing it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to its back.

"I have lost money; I have lost trust; I have lost many things because of Wickham," he murmured, your hand still close enough to his lips your could feel them move as he spoke. He lifted his other hand to gently caress your cheek. "But I will never forgive him for making me lose the years I could have spent with you."

"Fitz, I'm so sorry," you apologized as the tears finally spilled from your eyes, "I'm sorry."

You repeated your apologies many times, but they became muffled as he pulled you into him for a tight embrace.

You wrapped your hands tightly around his neck and buried your nose in his shoulder.

When your apologies quieted, he gently moved away, just barely half an arm's length.

"There is no need to apologize, my dear," his countenance calm, at peace. "We will simply have to make up for lost time."

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

@iceman-kazansky

#mimi’s mini blurbs #fitzwilliam darcy #mr darcy #pride and prejudice #pride and prejudice fanfic #pride and prejudice fanfiction #p&p #p&p 1995 #p&p 2005 #pride and prejudice 1995 #bbc pride and prejudice #pride and predjudice 2005 #fitzwilliam darcy x reader #mr darcy x reader #mr darcy fanfiction #fitzwilliam darcy fanfiction #jane austen #jane austen fanfiction

78 notes · View notes

garglyswoof · 1 month

Text

I was inspired by @push1na 's amazing klaroline version of Klimt's The Kiss and so wrote a ficlet inspired by it This is me writing on my phone in an airport lounge so hopefully it comes out ok <3

--+++--

They come for him while the blooms are still bright, trampling them beneath an army of bootheels, and it's another point against them.

Because she loves the flowers, and he will have to get his minions to replant them when he crushes this threat. He often uses her own words, thrown at him with such vitriol years ago, just to see her eyes roll and barely hide the smile behind. But she's not here with him now. She is safe, he reassures himself.

It's only been a few years with her and he is greedy for a thousand of them. Last month he'd approached her here in this yard, in the suit she'd insisted he wear “for nostalgia reasons, obviously” with the blooms flowering their riotous colors in the golden light of sunset, and kissed her cheek as she stared at him with something that made his heart kick in his chest like a prey animal.

It was terrifying and joyous and his greedy, greedy heart cannot get enough.

He told her so, just a few days before, when he'd learned of this new vampire threat and sent her off to New Orleans despite her furious protests. He couldn't put it into words at the time, that losing her would break him worse than the hunter’s curse ever had. That to touch her was one thing, but to hear her spitfire words only made this stutter step in his heart worse. Instead he’d merely said ‘I need to keep you safe,’ and he knows it wasn't enough.

He would enjoy his acts of contrition, truth be told, tangled in the sheets with his mouth tracing patterns on her skin.

The wind picks up then, ruffling his hair like it did her dress that golden-tinged summer evening, but this time it carries the scent of vampires instead of Caroline’s own. He keeps his pose casual, hands clasped behind his back, walking back towards the house and avoiding the wildflowers underfoot. Let them think him clueless and weak, it made their destruction taste almost as sweet as the notes of jasmine in Caroline’s perf-

“No.”

“Yes,” she replies, and he looks up at her, standing in the doorway, her sundress abloom with flowers to match the yard, and his greedy heart thumps.

“They're almost here,.love. If I - if I,” he can't even say it, as if speaking the words could manifest them. He feels the impotent rage rise up, knows his next words will push her away.

Her hand cups his shoulder.and squeezes before he can betray himself. “I know. But you won't. And you can't ask me to stay away when you're the one in danger. So you're just gonna have to learn to trust me. Plus you just gave me that fancy mini fridge and Im spoiled by how good the wine setting keeps blood at the perfect temperature.”

He grumbles at this, because he doesn't get her choice of diet when she could have it fresh from the tap, but he takes the hand at his shoulder, admiring the glint of sun off of some ancient queen’s ring he'd bestowed upon Caroline, you’ll forgive him for not remembering who, and kisses the palm of her hand, her wrist.

Her intake of breath is a revelation, as it always is, that she is just as affected as he is. It makes him think that perhaps this madness that takes hold of his greedy heart isn't one-sided. He hoards her gasps like jewels in a dragon’s den.

The thought steels him and his eyes are wild as he turns to face the onrush that he knows is upon them. Her hand stays clasped in his own, for a moment, and if he has the brief thought of never letting go, it is one borne of a poet’s thoughts that he’ll remember for later, when the path of his brush traps their moments together.

The sun descends, but she still shines to him, monster’s visage above the blooms of her dress, the neckline covered in blood, her hand clutching a still-beating heart. He only has a moment to appreciate her, his brilliant blonde distraction, before he turns back to the fray.

#klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #partially inspired by that post talking about fandom as.a.community and i feel like it os more rare to see fanfic of fanart #anyway let many people be inspired by your art #amd write many fics

48 notes · View notes

handsometheo · 9 months

Note

hello sweetie! :D

i see that you want to write about descendants and i would absolutely love to share some requests i've been thinking about.

idk if you write ficlets, headcannons or oneshots, so you can write in the way you feel more comfortable! :)

so, the thing is, uma and harry (separately) x artist!reader (gn please!!) where the reader draw and write music and poetry about their lover/crush. i just want to see how they would react if they seen the readers art bcs i think it would be soooooo cute!

(im so sorry if you can't understand something, english isn't my first language.)

take care of yourself. love u!!

I love this so so much! thank you!

Hope this doesn't end up being too bad, I feel it was a little rushed (not because I felt I was being rushed just that I had a few thoughts that I needed to write before they were gone yk?)

I'm doing it so it's:

Harry Hook x painter/drawer!reader

And

Uma x music artist! Reader

To make it easier to imagine

Also I've kept it gender neutral dw and I've also written it so Uma and Harry are in Auradon when they meet you

Please feel free to request more at any point (I'm going to write for all descendants characters but mostly Harry Hook)

----------------------

Harry Hook

Let's imagine Harry has no idea who you are in the beginning

Some random person that's always seen drawing, painting, creating something.

He's seen some of your works hung around Auradon prep in expensive looking frames

He doesn't approach you for a while, in fact Gil is the first to meet you

Gil takes the same art course as you so you meet there when Gil had a bit of a paint disaster

Harry was originally cautious around you because he thought you'd be some stuck up art critique kind of person who was going to complain about Gil

But when you instead explain that you could see what he was trying to do but the actual execution of it wasn't great , Harry laughed with you

Overall your first meet was a positive one that was the beginning of a laughter filled relationship

Harry would always see you sat somewhere, in some weird position, scribbling away in your sketchbook

He eventually spots what you are drawing, or better yet who.

Him

He crashes.

All thoughts, Gone.

He's just staring at it for a good 5 minutes before you have to click your fingers in front of his face to wake him up.

"H- How, no, why are ye drawin' meh?" Heat rises to his cheeks and he slowly brings his thoughts back to Earth.

He'd already had been developing feelings for you since you two met. I mean you were nice to his friends, kind to him, he let you meet his sisters at one point and they seemed to even like you. You are fun to be around, you check that he's taking care of himself, you make sure he's not too bashed up from the sports he plays. What isn't there to like?

"You have a pretty face, nice to draw." He takes note of the blush that grows on your cheeks and the way you look off to the side with a shy smile growing. "I draw the people I like, the people I'm closest to."

His heart almost stops. Did you just try to kill him?! 'cause clearly you aren't aware of the way you make him feel.

I headcannon Harry to be Pansexual, as a pan person myself, so he was kinda well known on the Isle for being able to flirt with anyone he wanted for various reasons

But let me tell you, not once had he had the air knocked out of his chest from a few simple words.

You take his silence the wrong way and begin packing your things to go find somewhere to wallow in your shame, but Harry just drops to his knees in front of you.

"Please, draw meh, whenever ye want to." He is on his knees looking at you with the happiest smile he can muster and almost puppy like wonder in his eyes. "I'll be yours, if you'll be mine?"

Okay that bit came out a little too easy to him, he didn't really mean for that to happen.

But he can't complain since you agreed!

Everything you create for him, he treats like it's the most fragile item he's ever come in contact with

He's always showing it off though he's so appreciative of everything you do so he wants to show the entire world

When you feel down for not feeling your art is good enough, he's oddly prepared to show every bit of art you've ever given him with reasons on what makes it perfect to him

He may as well be prepared with a PowerPoint presentation on every one of your works he's seen

I fact he's probably prepared one somewhere, pictures, effects, transitions, the whole shebang!

He draws too, almost forgot to mention. I've got a little headcanon of him always doodling pirates on cool adventures when he was younger on the isle. I also like to imagine that there was a time where Evie and Harry liked to draw together but Evie drew Princesses and dress designs and Harry drew pirates which created some childish clashing between the two. So they'd stopped almost as soon as they started their little doodle hangouts

That's offtrack, sorry.

He gives you pictures of you in multiple different styles, each time it seems like he's trying to depict you as an angel of sorts

He also draws the Uma and the crew but he comes to check that he got everyone right with you

ART DATES.

YOU'RE GOING TO ALL THE MOST AESTHETICALLY PLACES HE CAN FIND

He may or may not let you take pictures of him for references as long as he can do the same with you, he's also pretty good at photography so he loves getting new picture of you with some fantastical background making you stand out so much more

Uma

Uma knew who you were when she arrived in Auradon, she'd heard your music played at cotillion

She couldn't complain about it, it wasnt her usual style but it was new and she liked that

When she had officially arrived she would notice you all around

Playing music for parties, proper events, even just around the school

Despite her not meeting you she subconsciously finds her way to you

She listens out for you whenever she can

She ends up actually meeting you thought Evie

Evie was designing everyone's outfits for a party so your fitting time overlapped into Uma's time. Uma didn't mind and in fact took the opportunity to tell you that she'd heard you around but hadn't had the chance to meet you

From then, you became quick friends.

Her feelings developed the more time she spent with you, she just loves listening to your music

She'd like to learn an instrument that would compliment your style of music so you could play together

She helps you with lyrics whenever you need the help

She first finds out that you write songs about your experiences and the people around you by looking at the lyrics for some of your songs

She finds it sweet that although you don't directly mention people, you can share the way you feel to them to those who will listen

But then she finds a song that's for her

I mean who else would it be for, she's the person you spend most of your time with and she's the pretty pirate with blue hair

She definitely looks over the lyrics and gets so giddy that she's kicking her feet with glee, when you walk in and see her smiling at the page she doesn't stop smiling

She immediately asks what you mean and when you tell her she latches onto you

Basically, she asks you out right then and there

Who are you to deny her? Of course you accept

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

So sorry it took longer than I thought, and sorry Uma's part was shorter thats my dumb lil brain being dumb

#x reader #fanfic #disney descendants #disney #descendants fandom #descendants fanfic #harry hook #harry hook x reader #harry hook descendants #uma descendants #uma x reader #descendants 2

123 notes · View notes

rmd-writes · 24 days

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks @cha-melodius @hippolotamus @mammameesh @kiwiana-writes @happiness-of-the-pursuit for the tags. I'm sure I've done this before but I can't find it to see how long ago!

How many works do you have on ao3?

84

What's your total ao3 word count?

591,653 but that's inflated by a number of collabs, I think the number is closer to 400-450k

What fandoms do you write for?

RWRB, 911 LS and SC (rarely these days)

Top five fics by kudos:

Excluding any collabs (there's a couple in particular that are right up there)

Everybody needs good neighbours | RWRB | E | 14.3k | neighbours au

to the victor, the spoils | RWRB | E | 19.4k | lawyer au

yours for the afternoon | RWRB | M | 4.6k | coffee shop au

what, like it's hard? | RWRB | E | 65.1k | lawyer au, the prequel

I want you, I need you, oh baby oh baby | RWRB | E | 7k | college au

Do you respond to comments?

Yes, I try to! I'm not always prompt but I do respond to almost every comment

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Happy endings only here. I do have one unpublished Tarlos ficlet that's kind of a Queen Charlotte inspired future fic that is the saddest thing I've ever written which is the result of @howtosingit saying "whatever you do, don't think about X" which of course meant that I did and I wrote it in a fever dream, cried then buried it in my gdocs.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them hahaha

Maybe the ending to what, like it's hard?

Do you get hate on fics?

I've gotten some strange comments but I don't know that I'd class it as hate, as such (thankfully)

Do you write smut?

nah yeah lol

Craziest crossover:

It's not a proper fic, but I wrote this in response to an ask about what would happen in Alex & Henry, David & Patrick and Carlos and TK all met.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not as far as I am aware!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes and I love it! I've done collabs where we each write a chapter, one where we each wrote a chapter and then fully co-wrote the final chapter, a full co-write with @welcometololaland (that ended up morphing into each of us alternating chapters), and I'm in the process of another co-write with Lola atm.

All time favorite ship?

you can't make me choose

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't like to say never, but probably the SC paint & sip au

What are your writing strengths?

based on the comments I get - smut with feelings, banter/dialogue, characterisation

What are your writing weaknesses?

World building, pretty metaphors, I'm far too fond of run on sentences to the point where if I was beta reading my own writing there are SO MANY sentences that need to be cut down so that the reader can breathe.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

If it fits the character, I love it! I generally ask a native speaker to help me with translations for accuracy

First fandom you wrote in?

Schitt's Creek

Favorite fic you've written?

I don't wanna choose

I've got no idea who's done this already but I'll tag @welcometololaland @everwitch-magiks @clottedcreamfudge @indomitable-love @three-drink-amy

@never-blooms @freneticfloetry @strandnreyes @heartstringsduet @reyesstrand

@indestructibleheart @orchidscript @maxbegone @carlos-in-glasses @beautifulhigh

and an open tag if anyone hasn't been tagged and wants to play 💖

#20 questions #about me #rmd writes

27 notes · View notes

strangersteddierthings · 9 months

Text

Daily Ficlet 3

I'm challenging myself to write a little ficlet every day, using the prompts from this list. Today's prompt is foggy mornings.

-

"Do you miss it?" El says as she pulls her legs up under her and leans more into Dustin's side as she sips at her hot chocolate.

Dustin takes a sip of his coffee before asking, "miss what?"

"Being a superhero. Saving the world."

Dustin snorts at that because he was never the superhero. Just a kid, friends with another kid who'd gone missing, and life was never the same after that. But, even not being the superhero, he can't help but admit, "kind of. You think that makes me a bad person?"

"No. I miss it, too," El confesses in a whisper.

He switches his coffee mug from his right hand to his left so he can slither his arm out from under El and around her shoulders. She snuggles in closer and they both let out matching sighs before deeply breathing in the morning air. The hotel balcony looks over the foggy sea, and it's a little chilly, but that's just fine. Maine is chilly this time of year. More reasons to sit so close and share their warmth.

"I think we miss it for the same reason," El continues, "and it is not a bad one. We were all together, back then."

She's certainly got a point. None of them ended up in the same college, much less the same state. Then getting jobs didn't exactly bring them together again. Will's in San Fransisco, Lucas and Max are in Florida, Erica is Washington, and Mike isn't even in America anymore (a semester abroad in Italy stole him away and he only returns for holidays occasionally). Dustin's fallen out of touch with Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle, so he's no clue where they are these days. Steve would be able to tell him.

Steve's still in Indiana, though it's Indianapolis now instead of Hawkins. Speaking of Steve and everyone being scattered, the last time they were all together was for Steve and Robin's lavender marriage two years ago. Robin got better school loans (she's going for that doctorate now) being married and Steve was happy to help. It was more a 'Congrats on Your Cheaper Education' party than a wedding.

Robin even convinced Eddie to get his band to do covers of wedding songs.

"Yeah. I miss everyone," Dustin agrees, turning to plant a kiss to the side of El's forehead. He gets a mouthful of hair for his trouble but it's worth it to hear her contented hum.

"Well. Good news is that we can probably get everyone together again next year," she says.

"You know something I don't?" Dustin asks.

"Spoke with Max last night. She is going to proposing to Lucas on Thanksgiving if he has not done it yet. She said I could tell you."

"Did she now?"

"Yes. She said 'go ahead and tell Dustin, since I know you can't keep a secret' so I am telling you."

Dustin smiles to himself as they fall into silence and listen to the ocean waves. He likes the ocean, and so does El. It's why they picked Maine for their vacation spot. They would have stayed in Boston but Dustin's been there four years now, and El for two, so they've seen most of the sights. They didn't want to drive all the way to a warmer climate.

He thinks they both prefer the colder weather anyway.

His thoughts turn back to Max and Lucas and their pending wedding. He would like to say he always knew they'd get married, but they were broken up for four years after high school, and managed to just find their way back to each other.

"Do you think you'll ever want to get married one day?" Dustin asks. he feels El's head shift and turns to meet her gaze.

"One day. Yes. I would like that," she smiles at him, and Dustin can't help but return it.

He thinks about the ring he has stashed in his underwear drawer back home. He's had it for almost four months now, but knows in his heart it's not something he can spring on El. No matter how sure he is that he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. He's taking his time. This won't be the last time he'll ask her if she wants to be married one day; just the first.

Dustin thinks he knows her pretty well after all these years. He'll know when her answer means 'I do' without her needing to say it. And right now, it's just a maybe. He can live with that, so long as he gets to share her warmth on chilly mornings.

#henderhop #my fic #daily ficlet #enjoy this little slice of life look into a henderhop future

73 notes · View notes

optiwashere · 2 months

Note

Minthara/chef’s choice, E7

You would. Thanks for requesting this! 💜

You can send a prompt from this list + a ship or platonic pair, and I'll write a ficlet!

---

E7. While relaxing at camp, Character A begins to suspect that Character B is Orin in disguise

"Aren't you a welcome sight?" Shadowheart patted the stool next to where she knelt on her long-disused prayer rug in front of her tent. "Come, sit with me."

Minthara had hardly come out of her evening trance before Shadowheart called upon her. She sat there in her nightclothes, silver hair curiously still in its tight braid. She smiled at Minthara, a wide smile that showed her teeth.

"Why are you awake at this hour?" asked Minthara.

"Sleep's eluded me for a while. I figured a bit of prayer would do me good."

Minthara replied slowly, lingering on the syllables. "Of course. At least there's no dreadful sun burning us in the night."

"Afraid you'll be burnt to a crisp?"

"The sight of it nauseates me." Minthara approached slowly. "When did you resume your prayers?"

Shadowheart smiled again, tilting her head to one side. "I suppose it was recently. Easier to pray without that dreadful sun hiding the moon."

"Yes," Minthara agreed, though she stopped walking at once. She glanced to either side. Nobody else was awake. "And which goddess have you decided is owed your allegiance, after all?"

"The one that stops you from melting in that torturous sunlight, all of your skin sloughed clean off and left to rot."

Hairs stood up on the back of Minthara's neck. Her breaths burned as they accelerated in her chest, and she felt sweat begin to form on her forehead.

These words. So familiar.

That smile.

The creature that wore Shadowheart's form smiled again, flashing her pearly teeth. Slowly, the grin slid into a grimace.

"You look as if you've seen the living dead, my love," said the creature in Shadowheart's voice.

A familiar sensation washed over Minthara, one that had been suppressed the last time she stood before this woman. Fear. The need to turn and run. Pounding in her skull like a headache but twice as vicious screamed for her to get away. Now. But another thought fought against the overwhelming roar of self-preservation.

Where, then, is Shadowheart?

"Your camp's paltry defenses were almost difficult to puncture, at first." A snap of bone cracked through the air as Shadowheart's head suddenly crooked to one side. With a flourish of silver hair turning a dull, waxy yellow, Orin stood up and grinned. She brandished her curved, crimson knife. "But like any spine, the touch of a blade slices clean until only we remain. My darling web spinner, how I have missed the way your body drips with fear-scent."

#bg3 fanfiction #minthara baenre #shadowheart #minthara x shadowheart #orin the red #my fic #anotheropti prompt fics #OK one thing I do wish BG3 did was take your romance if you have one (like BG2 which Orin's kidnapping is clearly inspired by)#I think that would be infinitely more interesting than taking someone that's not in your party #and most people bring their romanced companion along with them!

27 notes · View notes