#anon omg once again you don’t UNDERSTAND how much this blew me away !!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dollwrites · 10 months

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The more nervous and shy you are the more Hisoka loves it. He's watched you for months fluttering around the spiders headquarters, so cute, unable to make eye contact with any of the members- deathly afraid of the killers around you. You're Chrollo's cousin or niece he learnt from the vague introduction ending with a "Be nice, she doesn't belong here."

And it's true, you don't. Too skittish and small. A pretty little thing to be broken down and moulded into a stuttering cock hungry little whore.

Of all the members, Hisoka is the scariest to you. It feels like his eyes are constantly on you, piercing through your body, peering inside of you. Chrollo had told you to avoid being alone with him as much as you could but as fate has it you're eventually forced to go along with him.

He's too touchy, his fingers stroking your thighs, a palm against your lower back. Hot breath against your neck. You don't like it. He's asking you questions, many you don't understand the implication behind. You don't like it. His hand wraps around your own, threading his fingers between yours. You don't like it.

He pulls you onto his lap, his thigh finding it's way between your legs, your head forced into a cradled position against his chest. You freeze and he hums. "Relax." He demands in that sugary sweet voice with a teasing lilt. "Just relax against me."

You can't, it's not possible. Your heart is beating so fast, you've never been this close to a man before. Especially not a man this scary. He holds your life in his hands and you're afraid of what he's going to do with it.

He hums again as a hand rubs soothing circles over your back. "You need some help, hm?" His hand dwindles below your skirt, disappearing underneath to cup your ass. The feeling makes you jolt closer to him, an attempt to escape the firm squeeze. Your fingernails dig into his shoulder and you mutter a weak cry for him to stop.

He relaxes his grip but doesn't let go. You're so so so cute. He wants to corrupt you. He wants to touch you. He wants to break you. He wants you to become as obsessed with him as he is obsessed with you. He wants to see you hurt, afraid, pained, all because of his touch. He wants you cowering up against him for protection from his own perverted actions. He wants to see you cry, he wants to see you bleed. He wants to see you split open on his cock, crying out for respite from the pain and overwhelming pleasure. He wants you to be his.

HOOOOO BOY OH MY GOD anon… anon I have read this an alarming amount of times before finally posting AND LET ME TELL YOU this was not just hisoka crumbs. THIS WAS A FULL HISOKA MOROW 5 COURSE MEAL AND I CANT BELIEVE HOW DELICIOUS IT WAS !!!

BEFORE I ADD MORE CAN I JUST SAY that if you don’t already post your writing somewhere, I highly encourage it!! I love love love the way you write, your descriptions are so vivid CHEFS KISS!!! 💚💚💚💚

now, if I may offer the idea that you cum so quickly once he’s inside you that it’s almost humiliating. he’s barely pushed an inch beyond the tip inside and you’re already trembling and clenching, babbling that it’s too much and that you want it to stop but he’s still insistent that you can take it. he giggles a bit when he notices you tighten up, and he swoons with wicked delight ‘my, oh my, are you going to cum already, little one? i’ve barely gotten started and your pretty eyes are already going glassy on me. do you enjoy violation this much?’ he loves to mock you, watch you try and hide your face in shame against his chest as he bounces you up and down on his lap and you cum! when you’re panting and trying to crawl off his lap, he’ll only hold you tighter and offer a little kiss to your temple, his tongue darting out to flick at your skin and taste your sweat. ‘not yet, my darling, i’ve not finished yet, and i’m afraid i can’t let you go until i’m satiated. you understand, don’t you? why you shouldn’t have cum so soon?’

of course, you shake your head and whine that it hurts. not only is this your first time, but now your sensitivity is bumped up to one hundred, and every time your cunt spasms, it grips his cock tighter.

but hisoka is loving that look on your face. that pure desperation to get away from him, helpless and small and perfect for him to torture with orgasm after orgasm until your little mind is shattered and all you think about is the feeling of being impaled on his cock.

#I THOUGHT ABOUT NOT EVEN ADDING ANYTHING BC THIS WAS ALREADY SO PERFECT TO BEGIN WITH #BUT I DECIDED TO OFFER A LIL SNACKIE SNACK TO GO WITH THIS HISOKA FOOD 🫡#anon omg once again you don’t UNDERSTAND how much this blew me away !!!!

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themandilorian · 3 years

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omg for the prompt thing: #18, e/R, angst plz!! <333

ANON I DIDN'T FORGET YOU AND I DID THE THING!

(angst with a happy ending, because why else would you come to me?)

Prompt: Lies

The incessant knocks on his front door force Grantaire to wake up before his neighbor can threaten him with a shotgun again. He scrambles to the hallway and doesn’t even bother to check the peephole before throwing it open.

There is only one person insane enough to show up this far on the very wrong side of the tracks at, what, three in the morning? With a complete disregard for potential bodily harm.

Enjolras barges in without a word, the way he has done a hundred times before. He’s never needed Grantaire’s permission. He’s always known he could have anything.

Once the door is safely locked he wastes no time slamming Grantaire to the wall. Holding a blade to his throat.

“Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

Grantaire can’t speak. Not because he is scared, he can never be afraid of Enjolras. Hardened, ruthless Enjolras who is a threat to the world but not to his friends, never his friends. Grantaire has seen him kiss Courfeyrac’s cat on her forehead and talk to a cactus Jehan gave him far more often than him holding a gun.

But he has also seen Enjolras slit the throat of a millionaire sweatshop owner without a second thought.

He can’t speak because he has nothing to say for himself. He was an apathetic deadman walking, treading through life without a care in the world when he was assigned to go undercover to investigate a notorious vigilante group with no apparent leader.

But Grantaire in the presence of Enjolras became someone once more. He found himself caring, investing, wanting to help.

“If you want to kill me, nothing I say would stop you.” He settled with that.

Enjolras throws his knife to the ground, walking away from Grantaire to pace the floor. The room is too small for him to pace effectively, but Grantaire recognizes the sign of a nervous Enjolras and wisely keeps his mouth shut.

“I don’t understand you. You were a federal agent and you spent a year with us. You could have turned us in a million times. You could have walked away. Yet, you chose to lie to me--to us every day instead.”

Grantaire laughs bitterly. Typical of Enjolras, forever trying to find a rational explanation. Evaluating the logic behind every action. but love can’t be explained with any quantifier. Devotion can’t be measured with matrices and graphs. Enjolras should know this, but somehow he’s never seemed to give it a second thought.

“A lot of people do a lot of things for a lot of reasons. I’ll leave you alone now, shouldn’t that be enough? Don’t you have a lobbyist to terrorize somewhere?”

“You fucking blew up our building! We can’t go back there and our work is compromised! It will take months to get the security back up. Why the fuck did you do that?” Enjolras seethes. As close to shouting as Grantaire has ever seen him, but two can play this game. Grantaire was not known for his self-control.

“Because they needed to believe you’re all dead. Jesus Christ, how else would you start over? If you don’t think I’ve been wearing a tracker then you are even dumber than I thought. I know Combeferre backs up your data in five different servers and Bahorel puts all your money in an offshore bank. Don’t fucking insult me. Go, start over, go to Panama. Go to Saint Lucia. Laos. I don’t give a fuck.”

But he does, he cares so much it threatens to consume him whole. He doesn’t know what he would do once Enjolras is gone. Once all the warmth of the nights shared with Joly and Bossuet turn into a kind of loneliness that can’t be overcome with absinthe and pretty strangers. He isn’t afraid to be alone, he has been alone all his life, but that just meant he hasn’t known the comfort of feeling like he belongs. The quiet assurance of Les Amis that he was welcome, not because of what he can do for them, but because they loved him. As simple as that.

But they couldn’t have, not really. He was pretending to be someone else, no one can build a house on a rickety foundation of lies and he won’t force the only people that matter at all to try.

“You are so full of shit,” Enjolras says, sitting down on Grantaire’s tattered couch and giving him an unimpressed look. “I asked you why you did it. Not what it means.”

Because I love you. Because I love all of you. Because I couldn’t care less if empires would rise or fall as long as you are happy. I would let the world burn a thousand times over just to keep you safe.

“My boss is a lazy asshole, he needs to be taken down a peg. It will take him months to figure out that none of the corpses matches anyone in Les Amis. You are free to do whatever you want, for a while, anyway.”

“So are you.”

“What?”

“So are you. We counted the bodies and one of them had a dog tag with your name on it.”

Grantaire sits down on the floor, tucking his knees into his chest. Nothing gets past Enjolras. He should have known. He felt tired all of the sudden, all the last few weeks of preparing to leave Les Amis finally catching up with him, his blood felt like lead. What would he do? Start over somewhere far away, ideally with a lot of cheap alcohol. He'd keep tabs on Les Amis of course, try to protect them from afar. Unseen and unheard, not bothering anyone.

“So I’ll ask you again, why did you do it?”

Grantaire didn’t care enough to keep his defence up. Why does it matter anyway? He would probably never see Enjolras again after tonight. “You know full well why.”

Enjolras seems to relax a fraction, a small smile playing at a corner of his lips. “It’s nice to have a suspicion confirmed, especially right before you ask someone to follow you to, where was it? Panama?”

“Oh fuck you,” Grantaire says, pulling him down for a kiss.

#answered asks #ficlet #my writing #exr #i hope this is alright anon i just need them to be happy #and i spent way too much time trying to make it so #grantaire #enjolras

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wisepuma23 · 6 years

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Prompt: Logan v Virgil, maybe something like Virgil panicking over one of Thomas's tests? And maybe he either pushes Logan to overwork until he snaps or he and Logan end up fighting over how prepared Thomas is for it?

omg thanks for the prompt, anon!!

Warnings: Language, Abuse, Manipulation, Violence

Pairings: Platonic LMP

“We have studied the material enough times!” Logan shouted as he paced around his room, “If we study it anymore, it’s not productive at that point.”

Anxiety sat perched on Logan’s desk, “His professor said chemical engineering is incredibly hard and most people drop out.” He studied his fingers, “If we don’t ace this test, Thomas will drop out, and then he’ll starve, and then die on the streets.”

Logan turned on his heel sharply, “That is a falsehood. Stop pestering me with your cognitive distortions!”

Anxiety’s eyes narrowed, “I’m just telling you the truth, Einstein.” He stood up and stalked closer, “Is it or is it not true, that if Thomas doesn’t pass this course, his whole degree plan gets pushed back? If he gets it at all?”

Logan adjusted his tie with a growl, “Thomas can move at his own pace. He can take the course again next semester.”

“And who’s going to pay for it?” Anxiety’s hand shot out and yanked down on his tie, “His parents? His scholarships?” Logan couldn’t breathe, “Most of all, Thomas is gonna pay for it. We’d be shitheads to let him fail.”

Logan glared down at him, “You’re wrong, Anxiety.”

Anxiety threw him against his desk, sending papers up in a flutter. Pain shot up and down Logan’s side as he bit back a hiss. Damn him. Did he know how long it took to organize these?! Logan opened his mouth to let him know, but Anxiety raised a fist and his lips pulled back in a snarl.

Logan clicked his mouth shut.

“I’m right and you’re wrong,” Anxiety said, acid dripping from his tone, “Got it?”

The door slammed shut behind the dark side. Logan swiped at his eyes and ignored how his hands shook. He wouldn’t let it get to him. Fearmongering and false information all meant to herd him into doing whatever Anxiety wanted. Well, it wasn’t going to work! Logan got on his knees and started to pick up his papers.

Rebellion, it is then.

Logan spent the next few days whispering to Thomas to take walks outside on campus. A few naps out in the sunshine. A long shower to scrub out the suds of frustration and stress. Anything at all to put Thomas’ needs first and his priorities second. Logan ran the numbers and they did not need to run any more study sessions. He even checked up with Patton daily to see if the study memories were still there. Their light never fading.

He put Thomas first, which was something a dark side like Anxiety could never understand. Logan even let himself relax for the past few days as the exam date grew closer. Thomas didn’t need the extra stress, especially if Roman wanted to go see that play tomorrow. Valuable time for Thomas to forget his stress and allow him to experience a modicum of happiness despite mid-terms.

Logan knew it couldn’t last.

The TV flickered the warm and fuzzy colors of a Disney movie. Patton snored against the armrest of the couch, his soft blanket wrapped around him in a cocoon. Roman slept on the other side of him, his legs flopped over Logan’s lap. Logan drifted on the thin edge between wakefulness and sleep. Nearing midnight, he really needed to sleep. But he wanted to see how it ended.

A hand closed around his throat and pulled him up and over the couch. Logan’s eyes shot open as he clawed at the iron-clad hand. Roman’s legs slipped away as Logan’s world tilted. Anxiety slammed him against the floor behind the couch, his fingers squeezing until Logan gasped.

Anxiety held up a finger to his lips, “Shut your ever talking gob for once, or Thomas won’t see for you a few days.”

Logan nodded as his lungs burned.

Anxiety smiled, a strange feature splitting his pale face in half. His dark eyeshadow in the near darkness of the living room made the back of Logan’s neck shiver. Anxiety wasn’t someone to trifle with. Especially since Logan had made near blatant efforts to get rid of him and his influence the last few days. Self-care, Logan’s best weapon against the evils that plagued Thomas daily. And his best defense. Second only to knowledge.

Anxiety pulled him with a crack through the folds of the mindscape. Logan fell onto his bedroom’s floor as he coughed. Logan ran a finger over the blossoming bruises against his throat. Anxiety ignored his wheezing and instead locked his room with a click. Definitely not a good sign then.

Anxiety turned around and pulled him up by his shirt and onto the bed. Logan glared, he didn’t see the point in Anxiety manhandling him like a sack of potatoes but he found over the years it was best not to resist. The dark side took up his usual perch on his desk, and Logan bit back a growl at the papers crumpling under his weight. He let his black hoodie fall back as he rolled up his sleeves to reveal pale arms scarred with past battles.

“We need to talk, Logic,” Anxiety drawled as he flexed his fingers, tendons dipping in and out of his flesh, “I really do enjoy playing the villain, so I have to thank you.” Logan swallowed as Anxiety’s fingers elongated into black claws, “It’s been a while.”

“Anxiety, think about Thomas,” Logan said, not pleading, never pleading, “Think about him for once! Working from sunup to sundown isn’t healthy. Humans die younger from too much stress.” He knuckled his dark blue duvet, “At least I care about him more than you’d ever do.”

Anxiety shot up, “Excuse me? What did you just say?”

Logan’s shoulders shook with contained anger, all traces of sleep gone, “I said I care about him than you ever could.”

Anxiety grabbed his chin, his pitch black eyes stared down at him, “At least I do my fucking job. I’m protecting him from failure and what are you doing?” Logan ignored the spittle splattered on his glasses, “Smelling the goddamn flowers?! Pretending is everything is fine?? But it’s NOT!”

“It is–”

“Shut up!” Anxiety growled, “I don’t care? Oh, I care, I care a lot, which is why I’m even here! What, you think I’m going to let Thomas fail because of your incompetence?” Anxiety yanked on his head until Logan whimpered. Anxiety dragged him over to his desk and thrust him into his ergonomic chair not too kindly. The dark side snapped his fingers and his papers flew off his desk in a whirlwind. Until there was nothing left but his textbooks, his notebooks open, and the study guide on top of it all.

Logan turned to look at his messy room behind him but Anxiety pulled him by the hair and shoved his face down into his study guide. The words blurred just beyond his nose. Anxiety blew out a soft sigh, almost out of relief.

“Keep your nose to the grind,” Anxiety bit out, “And maybe Thomas won’t think you’re a pea-brained loser like the side you really are. I’m helping you fool him with your smart schtick.” His claws scratched his scalp as Logan struggled against the desire to read chemical equations until it burned, “Do your job, alright? Nothing is more important than this test. It’s Thomas’ future.”

The worst part about it all, Anxiety was right. All sides who spent time in Logan’s room grew only more honest and logical. So it stood to reason that Anxiety spoke the truth. There was more he could do, and Anxiety was only showing him that. Chemical equations spun in his head, acids fizzled and popped, conjured into existence as his eyes traced the first of the lines on the study guide. Logan ignored the sound of a door clicking closed behind him.

Nothing was more important than this exam. Not even Logan. He was nothing, just another cog in the grand machine meant to do his job. And he would do it. Logan’s pencil scratched in his notebook well into the morning.

Roman knocked on Logan’s door, “Hey, we haven’t seen you in a few days. Are you Gucci, nerd?”

Silence answered. So that was a no. He rolled his eyes as he bit back a sigh. Roman pressed his ears to the wood, but only the sounds of pages being flicked made it through. He dropped his forehead against the door and made a pitiful sound. So that’s why Thomas missed the play, then.

“I’m coming in!” Roman called, one hand on the hilt of his sword, “It’s just me, Roman.”

Roman opened the door and his shoulders dropped at the sight of the room inside. Papers and papers of information and equations were pinned up on the walls. Miniature models of various molecules littered the floor and a particularly large DNA model laid on Logan’s bed. Almost like a lover. Roman shook his head and ignored the thoughts of Logan again being sexually attracted to the weirdest things. Like deadlines.

The side himself sat at his desk. His back hunched and bent like some kind of gremlin. Roman bit back a noise of disgust at Logan’s oily slicked back hair. Did the nerd even take a shower? Logan muttered to himself as Roman laid a hand on his shoulder. Logan didn’t even look up.

“Logan?” Roman whispered, then kneeled down to his level, “We can’t keep going like this. Thomas can’t either.” He put both hands on Logan’s shoulders, not even a glance in his direction, “Please. Just–just snap out of it, my good man!”

“Roman,” Patton called from the doorway, “It won’t work. This is just what happens sometimes…”

Roman shot up, “This isn’t healthy!” He blew out a breath of hot air as he rubbed his temples, “He goes on and on about self-care yet this is what he does in the end! He’s a hypocrite.”

Patton tugged off a blanket from underneath the DNA model on Logan’s bed. He draped it around Logan’s coiled shoulders. His mutterings and recitations never ceased in its tedious rhythm. Patton ran a hand through Logan’s hair and dropped a kiss against his temple.

Roman rolled his eyes as Patton glared at him to do the same. Fine, then. He could be an utter sap for Patton’s sake. Only because he loved his honey puff so much.

Besides, It’s not like Logan would remember him in this strange state in any case. Logan would claim amnesia even if Roman griped about how convenient it all was. In any case, he had to bend to Patton’s sweet demand. Roman ran a tender hand down Logan’s bent spine and dropped a kiss against his sweaty temple. His skin was oddly hot for some reason. Eugh.

But Patton’s beaming smile made it all worth it.

“Come on,” Patton tugged on Roman’s hand, “We have to leave him to it.” His fingers twisted around Roman’s as his smile grew sadder, “I’ll have Thomas call his parents after all this is over. And then Logan will be right as rain.”

“Are you sure, Pat?” Roman said, his voice soft as Logan’s felt comforter, “I thought…we actually agreed on something for once. He said he wanted to go to that play,” He buried his face into Patton’s shoulder as they walked back to the door, “Never mind I suppose. Next–next time I’ll find something more impressive.”

Patton kissed Roman’s hairline, “He’s proud of you. I know he doesn’t say it but he does.” His hold tightened, “I swear it.”

Roman scoffed. He heard Patton’s soft sigh, aw great, he disappointed yet another person today. A headache grew behind his sockets. Roman only hoped this crazed last-minute cramming nightmare ended sooner rather than later. Hardly anyone could be creative under these abysmal conditions!

Patton pulled him out into the hall and closed the door behind them with a quiet click. The two sides drifted away to talk and find a quiet place to ride the brainstorm out. Until Thomas could finally breathe and break down. And Logan could finally eat, talk, and laugh again. Like nothing ever happened.

However, the mystery as to exactly why Logan turned into that frightening state never had an answer. Patton thought it’d always been, and always would be. Roman hated anything that could twist his friend into some..some…control freak. However, he had to chalk it up to Logan’s often weird quirks. Even if niggled at him how could a such a logical and orderly side like Logan fall into chaos the minute something important loomed close. Deadlines, exams, and interviews.

Logan couldn’t answer Roman’s questions and had long grown used to Patton’s sad smile as his recollections failed him. His memories fractured and broke every time he tried. Patton could only pat his hand and tell him it was okay now. As if he wasn’t okay then.

Logan brushed his fingers against his throat for days afterward. Feeling for bruises that were never there. The ghost memory of flames that licked up his back and nipped at his heels. A sense of being burned as his fingers and eyes worked beyond his control. Trapped, silent, and tortured. Perhaps it was for the best he didn’t recall the searing orange flames that kissed his cheeks as his bitter tears evaporated, and didn’t pull away until he finished reading chapter seven. Again and again, burnt, flayed, until he finished eight volumes back to back. Flames on the side of his face.

No. Logan didn’t remember. And the memories were lost to a filing error that he couldn’t bring himself to restore. Instead, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep with his family on either side of him. Roman pulled him tighter as Patton buried his nose into the back of his neck. All he wanted to remember was right here.

Anxiety, in his dark candlelit room, couldn’t quite go to sleep just yet. He pulled out a dark purple chest covered in emo band covers, from underneath his bed. Anxiety took out a purple lighter from the back pocket of his jeans. He flicked it on and off, the flames whooshing in and out, lighting up his smirk. Finally, he opened his hand and let it drop into the chest. The lighter disappeared into the inky blackness depths with a pop.

A dark curl of satisfaction sat in his chest as he closed it with a click. Anxiety slipped the box back under his bed. Out of sight, out of mind.

Logan was just another workaholic. Nothing more, nothing less. A mystery that wouldn’t be solved, because there was no mystery. Patton and Roman never looked into the matter further. While years later, Virgil shifted uncomfortably whenever he brought it up. Logan didn’t understand why. Virgil simply went all quiet and instead ask to be excused.

Logan didn’t bring it up again.

TUMBLR TAGLIST:@ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 , @milomeepit , @k9cat , @my-spooky-little-bean , @sher-soc-the-famder , @confinesofpersonalknowledge @mariniacipher @finger-gunsss @teacupfulofstarshine @demonvirgil @divinedrabbles

#anon asks #myfics #sanders sides #sanders sides angst #logan sanders #sanders sides fic #virgil sanders #MWHAHAHAHAHA #ANGST!!!#YOU GET SOME ANGST #AND YOU GET SOME ANGST #ALL THE ANGST #Anonymous #analogical

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glowrioustrash · 7 years

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Don’t Go Out There

Prompt: 53: “Don’t go out there. Especially once the sun goes down.” “Why not?” “You don’t wanna know.” and 80: “I just found out my best friend and love of my life isn’t human and you’re criticizing me for being shocked?!” from this list, specifically with Vampire Seth. Requested by anon.

Pairing: Vampire!Seth Rollins x unnamed OC

Word Count: 2400+

Warnings: Light swearing. I think that’s

Author’s Note: No sparkling in the sunlight here folks. I combined a few different styles/lore into what creates vamps in this world, so I didn’t stick strictly to one pre-existing rule. It was fun to write in AU and I enjoyed the spooky bits. They were a challenge, but I’m happy with them for my first attempt. Edit: omg so I just saw where it was mislabeled from when I copied everything over. Everything should be fine now. Embarassing lol

Tagging: @castielscamander / @therealfivefeetoffuckingfury

My girlfriends had warned me, but I didn’t want to listen. They said that eventually the rose-tinted honeymoon glasses of my relationship would come off, but I didn’t believe them. It had been over two years with Seth and the giddy, “new relationship” excitement hadn’t faded yet, so I had doubted it ever could. They said eventually something would shatter the illusion I held of him and there would be no turning back. Maybe I needed more positive friends, but maybe they were right.

I had moved in with Seth almost a month ago, which had been the catalyst for even more pessimistic remarks from my girls over brunch but I shrugged them all off. If they had men like my Seth, they would understand. We lived in different parts of the same city, but his little suburb was so small and secluded, I didn’t even know it existed before I met him. It was like a little gem of a hamlet trapped inside the city. I was excited to call it home.

“I want you to do something for me.” Seth had whispered as we lay in bed together on the first night, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside the window.

“Again? Already?” I giggled? We were both sticky, sweaty and satiated after celebrating taking this next step in our relationship.

“Not like that.” He grinned, nuzzling my neck.

“What then?” I squirmed, his beard tickling me.

“Don’t go out there. Especially once the sun goes down.” He murmured against my skin.

“Why not?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Seth, I can handle myself…” I started to protest but he shook his head.

“I know you think this is a beautiful neighbourhood, but things get weird at night. Just don’t do it. For me?” He turned his gorgeous brown eyes on me and I couldn’t resist.

I had forgotten the promise I’d made him that night. I remembered watching as my mugs took up counter space beside his or how his eyebrows wiggled as he opened a box to find it full of underwear. I remembered the way it felt when he wrapped his arms around me and said “Welcome home” and how he welcomed me well into the morning. That tiny conversation just slipped through the cracks.

As I walked the few blocks home from the store, I couldn’t help but gaze around the suburb. If at all possible, it looked even more beautiful at night. I had seen it after dark before, but always with Seth by my side. Never had the dimly lit neighbourhood held my undivided attention. I took my usual route to and from the store, cutting across a few alleys and crossing a park. I had walked this path enough during the day that I didn’t need to think about where I was going.

A shuffling noise behind me brought me out of my thoughts. I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to see someone else on the street, but no one was there. Come to think of it, the cashier had been the only person I had seen all night. I hadn’t passed anyone walking to the store and there was no one else shopping. Just goes to show how removed our little neighbourhood is from the hustle and bustle.

The shuffling happened again, interrupting my thoughts. It had sounded closer this time, but as I looked around there was still nothing there. I tried to change how I was moving, checking if it was a noise my jacket was making as I walked but that didn’t seem to be it. I picked up my pace a little.

The breeze picked up as I got closer to home making me shiver. I’d only grabbed a very light jacket and it wasn’t helping much against the cool wind. I was already a little on edge, the soft howl of the wind and the noises of leaves rustling making me scan the street continuously. A gust of wind blew my hair over my neck, making me shiver.

The next time I heard the shuffling noise, I swear I heard laughter along with it. I stopped walking and spun around, looking for the source of the noises I’d been hearing.

“Is someone there?” I called into the alley. I was met by silence but couldn’t shake the feeling of not being alone. One weird noise in the night is a coincidence, these repeated noises were too much to handle.

I turned, ready to speed walk the rest of the way home, but jumped as I saw the silhouette of a man standing at the end of the alley. He hadn’t been there a second ago. He wasn’t walking or moving, just standing. The alley was narrow enough that I would have to pass him to continue home. I was too scared to move, and he didn’t seem to be moving soon either.

“No.” A voice growled from directly behind me, making me scream and drop my shopping bag. I whirled around, ready to attack with every ounce of my being. I didn’t know how to fight, but I could claw, scratch, kick and bite.

I almost sobbed in relief when I saw that it was Seth behind me. I collapsed against him, burying my head into his shoulder.

“Just a little taste.” The man drawled.

“I said no.” Seth’s voice was like nothing I’d ever heard come out of him before. I whimpered, clinging to him tighter. I could feel how tense he was under his shirt, his entire body seemed ready to strike.

The man chuckled darkly before his footsteps echoed down the alley, fading into the distance. The tension left Seth’s body as the footsteps got farther and farther away.

“I told you not to go out alone at night.” He whispered into my ear, his arms wrapping around me.

“I-I’m sorry. I’ll never do it again.” I promised. I moved to pull away but Seth just held me tighter.

“Wait.” He ordered. I looked up at him but could was too close to see his face, his chin taking up most of my view.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just wait.” Was all he said.

“Seth, I’m already scared to death and you’re making it worse. Can we please just go home?” I asked, trying to push away. He looked down at me and I gasped. In the dimly lit alley, I could see his eyes were tinted red. Were they glowing? Why were they-

“Seth… w-what…” I could barely form any words, shaking in his arms as I tried to push away.

“Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you.” He tried to soothe, but that only made me panic.

“Seth, let me go.” I cried, trying to wiggle free. He loosened his arms, letting me slip free. I took several quick steps back, almost tripping as I stared at him.

“It’s okay, it’s just me.” He followed as I moved away, arms raised like he was approaching a scared animal.

“Seth, what’s going on? Why are your eyes-“ I shook my head. I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I felt my chest getting tighter and tighter.

“Let’s just go home and I’ll explain everything.” He offered, still advancing on me. He stepped into a beam of light from the street, the light glinting off his long, pointed teeth. Pointed teeth?!

“Y-your teeth.” I stuttered, tripping over a crack in the pavement and falling backwards.

“Shit.” He hissed, turning away and covering his mouth. I jumped at the distraction, scrambling up and sprinting to the entrance of the alley as fast as I could. Seth called after me but I didn’t stop.

I collided with something as I turned the corner, screaming as I felt arms reach out to steady me. Looking up, I couldn’t believe I was looking at Seth.

“How did you-“ I panted, staring up at him in fear. “You were-“ I couldn’t do anything as my vision grew dark and I felt myself fall limp in his arms.

----

I woke slowly, laying in a comfortable bed. My nose told me it was mine and Seth’s bed as I snuggled deeper into the pillow. My head hurt and I felt exhausted. I whined quietly under my breath at the feeling.

“You’re awake.” Seth’s voice was rough and I could tell there was something wrong. I slowly opened my eyes, turning to look in his direction. He was sitting on a chair he’d pulled into the room. The covers on his side of the bed were untouched. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” I mumbled, looking him over. His hair was a mess and he was wearing the same clothes as last night. Had he not slept- last night. I sat up in bed, watching him with wide eyes as I remembered.

“Sweetheart, please calm down. I don’t want you passing out again.” He begged, but didn’t move from the chair. His fingers twitched against the armrests, but he was still otherwise. I watched him, my body shaking and muscles tight, ready to jump out of the bed and run.

“W-What was that?” I finally stuttered. “Last night?”

“I should have told you this sooner.” Seth sighed and bent his head, his hair falling forward and shielding his face from me. I glanced at the bedroom door, knowing that I’d never get there before Seth did. He was faster than I was, always had been, and that was before I had seen him last night. It was like he appeared around that corner by magic. “I’m not who- I’m not what you think I am.”

“What are you?” I whispered, scared my voice would crack if I spoke much louder.

“The short answer?” He chuckled bitterly. “Vampire.”

A silence engulfed the room as I processed what Seth had said. Vampire. Vampires don’t exist. They’re made up for horror movies and Halloween costumes. Besides, I had seen Seth eat food, not blood. He’d been out during the day and didn’t explode into a pike of ash. I’d never seen him bite into a clove of garlic but I don’t remember him going out of his way to avoid garlic either.

Seth’s chuckle startled me out of my thoughts.

“Myths. Those are all myths.” He spoke, confusing me. Now what was he talking about?

“Sunlight, garlic.” He explained. “We’re weaker in the sun, but it doesn’t kill us instantly. I have no idea where the garlic comes from. Probably some garlic farmer trying to make a quick buck off of paranoia.”

…How did he know that was what I had been thinking?

“I can read minds.” He answered, looking up at me hesitantly. “I also have incredible speed and strength – at least I do when I’m not in sunlight. The way it was explained to me is that it makes us weak. If we stay in it too long it might kill us, but it would be like slowly wasting away. I wouldn’t burst into flames.”

“That’s why you hate the beach?” I asked. I knew it was a dumb question, but it felt like my brain was shutting down. Between the head ache I’d woken up with and the shock of information I was getting, I couldn’t think straight.

“That’s what you’re hung up on?” Seth laughed.

“I just found out my best friend and love of my life isn’t human and you’re criticizing me for being shocked?!” I snapped, a gasp leaving my mouth immediately afterwards. Saying it myself made it so much more real. I threw the covers back on the bed and climbed out the opposite side from where Seth was sitting.

“Please, don’t go!” He begged, standing as I did. “Please. I’ll answer anything you want. Everything. I still eat normal food but I drink blood, a pint every few days or so. I don’t drink human blood, only animal blood. There are vampires who drink human blood and those are the ones you need to be scared of, not me. Never me.” He ranted, trying to supply the answers to the questions she wasn’t even asking yet.

“It’s still me. I’m still Seth Rollins, the Seth Rollins that loves you with all his heart and that you love back… just a little less human than you originally thought.”

“Why should I believe you?” I breathed. “I… I know what you are,” I thought back on last night. The eyes, the teeth, the speed. I had no doubt in my mind he was telling the truth about what he is.

“Have I hurt you yet?” He answered. “If I was looking for some random person to drink from or play with, don’t you think that would have happened by now? Why would I be telling you all of this after being together for over two years? I should have told you sooner, but I was so scared. I couldn’t handle the thought of you leaving me. Please don’t leave me.”

I watched the emotion plain as day on his face. The vampires shown in classic movies always look so stoic, not like Seth did in this moment. He looked like he might collapse at any moment. I’m sure if I took a single step toward that door, he would break.

Two years I’ve loved this man, and I’d known him long before I loved him. I knew him- I thought I knew him inside and out. Could I just… walk away?

The silence stretched between us. If Seth was reading my mind, he didn’t show it. He didn’t comment as the war in my head waged, weighing out either side. Do I stay with the man I love or leave this… vampire?

I took a shaky breath as I sat back down on the bed. Relief flashed through Seth’s eyes as he mirrored me, sitting on the opposite edge.

“I… I still have a lot of questions.” I told him.

“I know.” He gave a nod before correcting himself. “Not- I haven’t been- This is your decision to make and I wanted to give you the privacy to make it. I meant it figuratively. I don’t literally know what you’re thinking. At least not right now.”

I couldn’t help but grin, a soft laugh escaping my lips. One of Seth’s nervous habits was rambling. It didn’t come out often, only when he was incredibly nervous. He’d rambled on our first few dates. He rambled the first morning we woke up together. He rambled when he asked me to move in. Maybe he was still my Seth.

I reached out towards the middle of the bed, my hand upturned. Seth took it in his own without hesitation, lacing our fingers together with a soft squeeze. Seth was the first one to break the silence.

“Where do you want to start?”

#Seth Rollins imagine #Seth Rollins fic #Seth Rollins fan fic #Seth Rollins fan fiction #Seth Rollins x OC #Vampire!Seth #Glowrious writings #Halloween prompt

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castawxayaway · 7 years

Text

half hearted: part five

part five? ALREADY??? okay I say it every time, but thank you guys for the love on this and I actually have something to ask of you- something small, minimal effort required:

please please pleeaasse go read this post and send your responses, it’s an opportunity to unite as a group and yeah, it means a lot to me :) also I have finally started packing for uni (I leave sunday omg) but I feel better about it right now, so that’s that. lastly the anon who sent a request it’ll be done after this, I promise!

and enjoy part five ! (and pls give some feedback- love hearing it all!)

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven (last)

collection of writing

Today he had it all planned, for the first time I was oblivious to whatever and wherever the day would lead us to. I secretly liked how he cupped my hands and blew his warm breath into them to keep them less than icy, that he held my hand as we wandered together and laughed at the little things I said. We’d sat inside an italian restaurant and spoke about life, about what the future might hold. I told him more about my aspirations and never before has anyone taken it seriously or cared that much. I could see it in his eyes, there wasn’t a facade, nothing was forced- he actually wanted to listen to me talk about my dreams.

We had walked through the park, kicked the piles of rustic leaves as the children remained out of sight, locked in school for the day whilst our inner children was let loose. As I threw the leaves up around me and let them fall I saw his phone flash between the colours in front of me. Once they fell I raised an eyebrow to him, but he kept a small smile on his face not giving anything away, just the same smile that always hides more than I’ll understand. After we had tea on my balcony, he bought some cheap chairs to put outside so I wouldn’t freeze like I had a tendency to in the mornings.

He kept saying things, small comments that no one else would say, that I wouldn’t let anyone else say without retorting. When we were in the restaurant the waiter told me I had pretty eyes and I was too flustered to respond. As I glanced Dans way his jaw was tightly clenched, and his hand moved closer to mine and the waiter walked away without another word being exchanged. I was told I had the most lively laugh, that I had humour deep within my soul. His compliments weren’t superficial, they meant something, something else. He wasn’t pointing out features on my face and commenting on them, instead he told me about my personality, about my hobbies, my dreams- anything that was something to adore, to even love.

We are still sitting on my balcony, it’s the early evening and the sky is too plain for my liking. Yet despite the lack in excitement we sit in a comfortable silence, I sip my tea as does he and reflect over it all, over the past four days with him. No one has ever cared like he does, the way I wake up and he’s just there, looking at me with a smile. One morning when he was fast asleep I glanced down to see him, his left arm outstretched towards my bed, and all I wanted to do was hold it. His mouth hung open and the stubble was thickening whilst his bright eyes were hidden in the world of his dreams. I couldn’t help but simply admire him, my internet friend after all this time. He was just asleep on my old mattress, the one I hated sleeping on, but I didn’t want to suggest my bed. I didn’t want to assume the best option as he is a stranger- a physical stranger that is.

“Dan,” I speak up, slicing the comfort into two as I feel my heartbeat racing faster already before the question has even left my lips. He turns his head and focuses on me, the same dimpled smile never faltering. “you said you wanted to play something this morning?” Tearing my eyes from his I fiddle with my nails, distracting the intensity of my heart pounding against my chest, moving my necklace as it beats.

My question hangs around us, it weighs down on my shoulders as if each word is piling on top of each other, forcing me to sink in my chair with embarrassment, with a sense of shame for trying. “Come on.” He stands up quickly as I sit back up in the chair. Lifting my head up he stands in front of me, his arm extended before me with a glint in his eyes, something different. “Don’t just sit there, we’ve got somewhere to be.” The right corner of his mouth lifts, something other than the usual expression he gives, this time there’s something else in it, something I haven’t witnessed.

Leaving the flat we walk nearer to the park, the crisp breeze thickens around my legs, making each step slightly harder. My arm is wrapped around his for warmth, at least I tell myself that is why. “Where are we going?” I ask with a little kick in my step,my voice is full of curiosity, excitement rather than that sense of dread.

“Just wait and see.” He stands tall, adjusting his jacket as we take a sudden left turn away from the park and down a street I rarely visit. As he leads the way I cling to him tightly, not wanting to part ways with him down here, an unknown area.

We walked down for a few minutes before he stopped outside of an old building. It was one of the few remaining from the Tudor era, the others had been converted into flats, some into shops that shut down over a year ago, but this seems to still remain. “This?” I ask, the enthusiasm fading from my voice into pure confusion.

He simply nods as he opens the thick wooden door, his arm separating from mine as he does. As it hangs wide open he awaits my company in the hallway. From here I can see him looking up and around, mouth hanging open in surprise at the sight of it. “You gotta see this.” He calls out to me as I hesitantly stand at the entrance as I fear my nightmares about these buildings are going to come true.

Shutting it all out I take a deep breath, I wipe my clammy palms across my jeans and step inside. Keeping my head down I can hear my own footsteps echo upwards, and as I find his feet I start to lift my head until I meet the eyes of the one person I need. He motions for me to look around and slowly I take a step away from him and examine where we are.

All around us it is open, the old floorboards remain dull, but the walls are decorated with sheet music. Some paintings remain hung along the staircase, but other than that it is furnished. A furnished home. Glancing around I pinpoint the decor I learnt about as a child, the memories of Henry VIII spring to mind and the attire I wished to have worn. “This is beautiful.” I whisper between us, but no sound can be neglected in here.

“Yeah,” He whispers as he walks past me. “you are.” Dan mutters in my ear as he begins to walk up the stairs, leaving me stood still trying to realise what he just told me. As my brain begins to click together my reaction forms, heat floods my cheeks and my eyes bulge out of my head. Turning around he calls my name from halfway up the staircase, motioning for me to join him.

As I walk to the bottom step he heads up without me, leaving me to walk under the grand chandelier that hangs above the creaking stairs. Once I’m at the top it remains an open space, the modern styled carpet contrasting the original features. Glancing around I let out a frustrated sigh as he remains out of sight, yet again. “Come on Dan,” My patience begins to wear thin as I hear him laugh and my fists clench. “where are you?!” Irritation rises in my tone as the stress only grows as the nightmares I had flood back.

Behind me the floorboards creak, this time he calls my name in a gentle tone, less of an excitable child. I remain still, focusing on the wall in front of me as it remains decorated with floral patterns, the swirls of the stems around the flower heads. His hand connects with mine, slowly pulling me backwards, closer into his arms. He begins to turn me around until I’m facing him, my hand intertwined with his. I can see him searching my eyes again, he is looking, checking for the fear that looms in them, never leaving.

His left hand rises as he places it on my cheek, the ice in his fingertips warming at the touch of my burning cheek. Naturally I lean into it, lean into him as he mutters nonsense into the open space. “I want you to come and see this, there is something I want to show you, okay?” As he speaks he keeps eye contact with me, not once is there a flicker of anything harsh, no deep dishonest greys line the blue in his gaze.

We stand still for a moment as he waits for me to respond, not wanting to force my hand here. After a minute I give in, I nod in response and his face has more a glow to it as he leads me into the room he was in before I got up here. Stepping inside all that sits in the room is a grand piano, the sort I’ve seen in films, in some of my most beloved films that I grew up with wondering if I’d ever have that kind of moment. But maybe, just maybe, this is it.

I keep in the corner of the room as Dan wanders over, his hand brushing against the smooth curves as he becomes out of sight, hidden by the lid. Walking towards him I feel the glossy wood, how smooth it feels against my fingertips as I glance in to see the keys, the hammers and string remain still, all aligned in the same place. Passing the lid he sits before it, central on the matching stool as his feet are on the pedals, his hands resting on his lap as if he were waiting for something- waiting for me.

“So, you play?” I ask quietly, feeling as if I am going to interrupt the silence around us as it remains so peaceful to be in, atmospheric even. He pats the spot next to him, shuffling across the velvet seat as dust rises, floating between us as he forcefully clears his throat.

As I sit next to him he takes my hands in his, muttering my name. “I want you to know I really care about you,” It sounds like the start of a breakup I’ve known all too well, the one I lived through, but this time I don’t want to tear my hands from his and run off. Instead I want to stay, I want to gaze into his bright eyes for another second, more as long as I’m able to. “and I want you to hear this.” Yet it was gone too soon, his hands were no longer holding mine, instead they were on the keys of the piano and I stood up, giving him space.

He began to play, slamming down onto the keys and it echoed around the room, around the house we are in. I can feel it in my bones, flowing through them like blood does in my veins. “Oh I feel overjoyed.” It was different, it was unexpected. In my mind I imagined something deep, overly masculine, but this was delicate, as light as a feather but as powerful as a lion. As he sang on it struck me harder, his fingers moved faster across the keys as he shut his eyes tightly, singing with more passion. “Words are all we have, we’ll be talking, we’ll be talking.” I smiled to myself as he remained so involved, him and the keys were becoming one in this moment.

For too long, words were all we had to each other, they were our it and end all. Without our words, without the goodnights and the get well soons, without the meaningful remarks and entertaining stories I wonder what it would all be like. The horrid could have been without him in my life, without that first message I sent to a stranger, what could’ve been if he never replied.

The more he sang and harmonised with himself, the more absorbed I became into it, but there was something about it, something familiar. “Oh I hear you calling in the dead of night.” He dragged each word out perfectly, it wasn’t painful to listen to, but I knew it, I knew this song. Looking at him with pure curiosity as his eyes remained out of view I wondered if I’ve met him before, if I’ve seen him somewhere and simply forgotten.

As his harmonies went on, the life outshined the emptiness in the room. He played with more passion, the pain and love of it could be seen in the straining of his throat, how his jaw clenched and eased at different points. His hair began to fall forward, the temptation he had in between keys to push it back, but simply left it there.

He began to slow down, the rhythm becoming more graceful. I knew the song was coming to an end, but the nagging feeling in the back of my mind would not part, I knew this song, I knew it, but I couldn’t pin it to one place, to a band, not even to him. “Oh I feel overjoyed.” His eyes opened and he turned his head towards me, locking his eyes on mine. The emotion was raw, it was genuine and encapsulated in the deep rich blue of his eyes, the depth was there, something I’ve never witnessed as he kept playing, finishing the song without a fault. “When you listen to my words.” He dragged the last few words out and in a single blink it rushed back to me.

A few years ago, me and Dylan were in his car driving back from a visit to the lakes in the middle of winter. This song came on, I looked it up as I liked it, but he didn’t. I got a single glimpse at the band, at the name but it must’ve been blocked, forgotten in amongst all of the other memories that overwrote the bad.

“It’s you.” I mutter to him and he turns away from the piano, facing me entirely. Getting myself on my feet I stand still, but I don’t dare turn away, look away from him. “Dan Smith?” Asking him my words do not echo, they remain between the two of us as if they know it’s personal, that it is not something to be ushered about between the furniture around the house. “You’re in that band, the French name.” It was coming back to me in pieces, snippets of memories from Myla and her ex, Matthew. He played some of their music, I liked it, I didn’t hate it. Yet once they broke up I forgot about it. It was just shovelled away under the dirt in my mind, waiting to be resurrected.

He stands up and I cross my arms across my chest, unsure what to think or how to react. A small sigh sounds from beneath his breath as I focus on the floral design rather than the emotions that pour from his eyes, the care that I wonder about now. “Bastille.” A single name, a single date in history that I never got to learn about, but I know it. It’s a word within my vocabulary, even if it has never been used or spoken from my lips in years, it is known. “Please,” I can hear the emotion rise in his voice, the struggle to get words out with ease as I turn my body away from his, my arms still tightly crossed. “are you upset?”

Mentally I heard myself scoff, the irrational yells begin. But physically I remain silent, unsure how to react. I remain quiet as I allow my mind to think, stir up answers, any possible response. “Why didn’t you tell me?” A simple question with a million answers and reactions.

“I was worried it would taint us.” Us. Not just me and him, but an us. I glance over my shoulder as I see him behind me, his shoulders brought forward, his fingers fiddling with the loose threads on his jacket, hair still hanging down. “If you knew I was known that much I thought it would be gone, I would just be a show for you, a figure of fame or some shit like that.”

“You really think so little of me?” I pipe up, wanting to hear his answer to that.

“No,” He steps forward, the floorboards creak. “never. You mean too much to me, so much that I couldn’t lose you that way. It’s alright for me, I’m just me in the band, but bringing someone into that it is mad.” As he explains I can visualize it, the fans, the hate, the concern that would wear him down. “I care too much about you to see you ever get hurt.”

Quickly I turn on my heels and face him, pain etched in his expression mirroring my own. “I, I don’t want to lose you Dan.” I shake my head as the tears rise, the emotions beginning to overflow. Taking a deep shaky breath I swallow the thick lump that rises in my throat, “I, I,” The sob sounds from me without consent and I take the final step into his arms, wrapping my arms tightly around him and bury my head into the crook of his neck.

My shoulders shake with too much force, rising and falling until he begins to speak, whispering above my silent sobs. Sobbing silently is something we all learn, as children we cry, we scream for attention. Yet as adults we reframe that, we hide it away and just let our hearts ache and suffer the agony instead, keep it bottled up until we burst. “When I saw you the other day for the first time, I thought I wondered if I’d made a mistake.” He whispers as his hand glides up and down my back. “I wondered if I wasn’t good enough for you, that you would not like me, or that I wouldn’t like you as much as I had believed. But,” A soft chuckle sounded from him, I can feel him smiling. “the second I saw you, when you turned around and slowly eased into it I knew,” Lifting my head up I sniff as I focus on his eyes, the intensity never faltering. “I knew I hadn’t made a mistake at all.”

Both of us began to flicker from feature to feature, he opened his mouth to speak, but I simply shook my head and leaned closer. We both knew it was right, it was what we want, what we’ve both wanted for so long but have been too afraid to admit it. My lips were on his with such a force it was nothing like a kiss with Dylan, this had passion, it has fire burning through it. I can feel the last of my tears mix in adding a salty bitter element into the sweetness of his lips against mine. As we pull away, slightly breathless I can’t stop the small laugh escaping my lips. “Play something else.” I whisper into his lips, kissing him lightly and before he has the chance to respond I pull away, waiting for him to join me at the piano.

He pushes his hair back, taking an uneasy step backwards as rose tints his cheeks and sits before the piano. “This one is called Oblivion.” I lean against the edge of the piano, simply admiring him as he plays, as he puts the energy, the life that flows in his veins into each lyric and note. I watch in awe, wondering how for a single second this happened, how words on a screen formed a genuine connection.

part six /seven

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moonraccoon-exe · 7 years

Note

Uncle Ardyn giving baby Prompto tummy raspberries >:3

Anon, I’m sorry for taking so long! I offer no excuses. (｡•́︿•̀｡)

Hope you see it and like it, nonetheless! :3

Let’s see…

Uncle Ardyn is in charge of Baby Prompto today:

To be honest, first time Ardyn tried to give him a tummy raspberry Prompto freaked out.

Remember how Baby Prom has no idea what’s going on first times they blow raspberries on him?

Yep. Still lost.

Besides, Baby Prom always freaks out in front of Uncledyn.

Don’t worry, he loves Uncle Ardyn…just…freaks out.¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Uncle Ardyn went down to his ankles in front of him and greeted him, introduced himself, asked him if he wanted to play.

Baby Prom’s like (・・ ) ?

So Uncle Ardyn tries to make him laugh.

“Ah, come now, don’t be so shy, my boy!”

Uncle Ardyn just took baby Prom by the little torso and blew a tummy raspberry on him from over the clothes.

….

Baby Prom’s still like (・・ ) ?

Baby Prom’s not laughing.

“….well, is this unexpected.”

It takes baby Prom a while until really understanding what tickles are.

First time it worked, Uncle Ardyn was changing his diaper, and, once done, he went down to remove baby Prom’s shirt and blew on his tummy and shook the head.

Look at Uncle Ardyn, he looks so stupid like

“BLBLHALHBALHBLBHLBBLHRH” all on Prom’s tummy.

Baby Prom at first is like ( ´ u ` )…?

Uncle Ardyn ain’t giving up, though, this child has to laugh.

So he continues like PFFFFFFFFFFFTLBLBJLHBLHBF on him.

Soon enough baby Prompto’s giggling like ( ´ ▽ ` ) ahahaha, nooo…!

That’s enough for a day for Uncle Ardyn, the giggling was enough.

But next day he sure as hell is trying again.

He’s been trying to give Prom a tummy raspberry, but every time he gets close, baby Prom is pulling his own shirt down and giving one of those adorable baby sounds of denial.

Baby Prom doesn’t like the raspberries because it tickles so much and he has a poor management of tickles ;______;

You have to understand him, his skin’s sensitive.

Still, Uncle Ardyn tries to convince him.

Baby Prom’s not letting him.

Uncle Ardyn suggests they play monster, hoping that that gives him an excuse to blow a tummy raspberry on baby Prom when he catches him.

Baby Prom’s still shy with Uncle Ardyn so he’s not replying. Just stands there watching him all shy.

“What is it, my child? You’ve never played monster? …..eh….you’ve….you want to nap? No? Then what is it? Aah, perhaps you need a little…”

Ardyn’s pulling out his real demon face.

“INSPIRATION!?!? ψ( ` ∇ ´ )ψ”

Baby Prom’s screaming.

Baby Prom’s running away (half waddling because he just learned to run

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH ..・ヾ(´ A`)シ”

When Uncle Ardyn catches him he makes sure he’s got his human face on, ‘tackles’ baby Prom (ofc making sure he lands safely), and proceeds to roar and growl while moving Prom’s shirt up enough to reveal the tummy.

Prom’s like

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH NNNOOOOOOO! MONSTAH NOOOO!ヾ(;A;)シ“

Uncle Ardyn’s still going to reach down and blow the biggest raspberry on baby Prom’s tummy.

The kid loses his shit.

At first he’s still screaming NOOO but as the raspberry continues, baby Prom just can’t help it and starts giggling.

He’s still like “NOOOO!” but now he’s more like

“AHahhahaha, nnoooo! Uncle Dyn, nooo!o(>ω

“Uncle Dyn? Who’s that? I’m MONSTAH!”

“*LOUD ASS BABY YELP* NNNNOOOOO! AHAHAHAHDKLSDFKLSD!o(≧▽≦)o“

Baby Prom’s screaming for him to stop, but he’s laughing so much as Ardyn continues.

There’s this one point where Ardyn The Jerk (loving jerk, ofc) lifts the head after blowing a raspberry.

WITH THE DEMON FACE ON.

“ADSAHAIDHAFASJDADH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!ヽ(・A・;;)ﾉ”

Baby Prom’s SO FREAKED OUT, it’s not even funny.

The kid’s screaming and squirming to break free.

Ardyn lets him and sees him run away while still screaming.

…only for a second.

“None of that, my child!”

Ardyn pulls him back down and tries to go for another raspberry, but baby Prom’s screaming and trying to kick his face, so Uncle Ardyn has no other choice than lift the head and show he’s back to normal.

Nope. Baby Prom’s still squirming underneath him all freaked out like *pant pant* ヽ(・A・;;)ﾉ”

Uncle Ardyn’s amused everytime, really.

“My child, it’s just me, no need to get all-”

“MONSTAH! ヽ(・A・;;)ﾉ”

Ardyn’s going to laugh every time before reaching to blow the tummy raspberries because he loves that and Prom’s very ticklish.

It only takes some blows before the kid can get over his freaking out and start laughing.

So it goes from a serious “NOOOOO, stahp, monstah!” to giggles and a half-serious “Ahahaha, nnooooo! No, monstah!”.

It usually ends up on baby Prom almost pissing himself in laughter.

He likes when the raspberry is blow hard and out of the blue after a pause.

Always makes him laugh SO HARD.

“Hah! You’re giving up, my kid! *blows raspberry*”

“*YELPS* AHAHAHSHDIKF AAAAAH! NNOOOOO! STAHP, UNCLE DYN! AHAHAHAHAHAヽ(>∀

Baby Prom has a poor management of handling tickles, so he usually ends up pulling from Ardyn’s hair while laughing.

Ardyn doesn’t mind; he’ll carry on because the kid is laughing so much,omg, it’s adorable.

Ardyn just won’t understand he really, literally is freaking the kid out every time he does it…or maybe he understands, but enjoys of it, so he’s always finishing the tummy raspberries by pulling his demon face out just for the pleasure of seeing baby Prom freak out, scream and run from him.

It’s amusing, tbh.

Uncle Dyn always makes sure to make up for the constant scaring by cuddling the kid with a last raspberry, but this time on the cheek.

Baby Prom always laughs softly with those.

Always forgives Monstah, by the way. :3

Ah, this is such an adorable mess ☆ ～(‘▽^人)

#uncle ardyn

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