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rriavian · 4 months

Note

may I propose for December Prompts "starry night" for Morpheus x Lucienne or "hot chocolate" for Morpheus and baby Orpheus? :)

A small foot stomped.

“No sleep!”

“Orpheus.” Dream said, unimpressed at even such a bold declaration of war, unmoved by even such defiant vehemence. “It is time for bed.”

This was not accepted as an adequate reason for Dream’s interruption of Essential Activities—the four hours Orpheus had spent playing his new favourite song on the lute—so opposed was his son to it that his announcement was immediately rejected by no less than five head shakes. The response made it clear that not only was Dream’s reasoning inadequate, but that it was actually an insane suggestion bordering on the ludicrous.

His sons small face had become one of determination, fixed in a set expression of horrified disgust. “No.”

Time for a wildcard.

“Then you do not want hot chocolate?”

This seemed to stump Orpheus quite completely.

The offer of hot chocolate proved to be a most compelling rebuttal, one his son had not anticipated, the proposal revealing an unexpected vulnerability in an otherwise flawless defence. Attrition was slow though, capitulation still not guaranteed, small fingers fiddling with the hem of a raven patterned pyjama top as this new contender was assessed. The frown turned thoughtful rather than angry, tension softening as Orpheus paused to consider this new argument for what it was worth, evidently taking the time to review every possible angle.

The silence stretched.

In terms of a game face it was quite impressive; Orpheus gave no sign as to which way he’d fall, and yet this silence at least confirmed a bribe was not yet off the table.

After a minute or so he blinked but otherwise remained impassive. The dark eyes—so like Calliope’s, so beloved—quietly considering, remaining so even when a deep breath was taken. Perhaps to steady the impulsive actions encouraged by a rush of anticipation, though who could be sure?, because when it came the question was merely curious.

“Hot chocolate?”

“Yes.” Dream confirmed the offer, set the scene for what could be attained, allowed a small pause and then continued in a tone soft and the slightest bit sly. “It is good for encouraging drowsiness after all. Though if you do not want—“

An excited interruption.

Orpheus had skipped closer. He’d wandered within touching distance—a dangerous prospect when he’d so recently felt at risk of being scooped up and delivered to his room—grabbing Dream’s hand and blurting out his question. “May I have some?”

Dream smiled. “Will you go to bed?”

It was important to name one’s price before agreeing a trade.

There was still a gamble in mentioning the apparently dreaded topic that was 'bedtime', but Dream believed he’d weighted those odds far enough in his favour to be safe. There was a caveat in this bribe after all, an exchange to be made, an agreement to be reached. It was polite to make the terms certain even as success was already within his grasp; Orpheus only tightening his grip on Dream’s hand in response, for all he was taking his time to answer he was also now tugging him towards the kitchen.

A decision had clearly been made. Orpheus seemed unwilling to risk the loss of hot chocolate even if there was a sacrifice to make in return. “Can I take it to bed?”

Still negotiating though.

Dream pretended to think about it while allowing himself to be led. “You may.”

“Can I have a story too?”

Further requests?

This deal certainly required a lot of sweetening. Dream’s smile only widened.

“Always.”

#dream of the endless #the sandman #Orpheus #winter prompt fic #i hope you like!#I'm filling both of these btw #but this one was finished first #no spoilers

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queerfanfiction · 7 months

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hi!! could i request a Lucifer fic where the reader repeatedly tries to persuade them into taking her flying? and when they do go flying, it’s really cute and fluffy!!

thank youu, i hope you have a great day <33

Flying

Prompt is shown above. :)

word count: 1.5k includes: fluff; no content warnings i don't think?

“Oh, come onnnnn.” Your singsong voice badgered at Lucifer. “Pleeeeeeease??” They hated when you got stuck on an idea and wouldn’t let go of it. So far, you have bugged them about eating dinner together as a date (even though they don’t technically need to eat), making a music streaming account, and why they don’t have 300+ degrees being immortal and all. Humans were so stubborn—you especially. The past few weeks you were relentless about Lucifer taking you flying.

“I want to feel untethered! From the ground. From everyone. From reality.”

“Being untethered is not what you imagine it to be,” a pensive voice recounts softly, almost as if they were reliving a memory and providing a cautionary tale. At this, you reign in your excitable energy and peer at the once-angel before you. They normally reacted in an annoyed manner when you brought up flying. Now their eyes were distant and unfocused, giving you a rare chance to examine them without their awareness. You knew they often masked their interior thoughts and feelings, probably as a deflection or defense. You didn’t know why they did it, since no one dares to mess with one of the most powerful beings in the universe.

An overwhelming need to wrap Lucifer into your arms arises within your chest, aching to be fulfilled. You’re not sure how that would be received, though… Lucifer usually initiated contact between you two, and being new to a relationship together, you were unsure about the unspoken boundaries between you.

You settle for slowly approaching. Your steady hand extends to graze the pale, fixed jaw of the god before you. In a whisper, you plead, “Come back to me.”

Another moment passes. The change in them is almost imperceptible—a hardening or tucking away of memories and emotions occurs. Their eyes focus and lose the glossy, distant shine to them. With a mischievous smirk extending over their features, Lucifer retorts, “You’re sure you don’t want to be untethered?”

“Tether yourself to me.”

With that, you shift onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to Lucifer comfortingly. You knew the time for playful nudging was over. After a few moments of gentle and precise kisses, a hunger replaces the careful, sweet energy. You think about how flying can wait.

Finally, one day Lucifer relents to your requests to take you flying. The requests were now a routine between you two—a dance of sorts. You would endear yourself to Lucifer and sit in their lap with rather large puppy dog eyes. With each stern and polite decline, soaring through the air while clutching onto the lean, capable torso before you became seemingly improbable. That’s why you were surprised when they relented to your begging. It felt out of place almost. You would have thought Lucifer’s newfound agreeance was a joke or prank, but their eyes were deliberate and decided.

Their body language turned more serious and direct, and they ordered you to sit down in front of them. Lucifer took your hands in theirs, not caring that their abrupt and direct actions had caused yours to turn clammy. What came next was a long discussion of consent, boundaries, and what to expect when flying.

“At any time, you may signal for us to slow or stop.” Then, Lucifer reasoned, “You may feel uneasy. It is not for mortals…” You could swear you heard affection and concern in their voice.

You didn’t know what to expect, and questions filled your mind. Would Lucifer run off the balcony in Hell? Do they need momentum to fly? Is there a secret way to exit Hell when flying? How do mortals not see them in the sky? Had Lucifer ever taken another human flying before?

Unsure of how to proceed, you only nodded obediently. Lucifer reached for you, sensing your hesitation now that you are presented with the very thing you desired. Your heart reacted—thrumming faster in your chest at the contact and anticipation. “Come now,” Lucifer cooed.

You climbed into their lean arms, feeling safe and secure against them. Funny how the ruler of Hell, the eternally damned, was the one you trusted with your life. The irony was not lost on you. Still, though, it wasn’t something you were ashamed of. The Lucifer you knew was charming and mystifying…and really cared for you. You knew they did, because it was apparent in their actions and demeanor. They made sure you were comfortable and unbothered by others in Hell when you visited. They dropped in on you throughout the day when you were on Earth living your life. Lucifer didn’t even break your phone or make you turn off the music when a One Direction song came on shuffle.

Lucifer’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. “Ready?”

In only a blink of your eye, you and Lucifer were somewhere outside on Earth. If you had to guess, you’d say some U.S. national park in the northwest—some of the trees were as wide as cars and the air felt crisp and cool against your skin.

“Hold on tightly to me.” This whisper from Lucifer fills the air between you two, giving you goosebumps across your arms. With that, they stretched out their wings and pushed away from the ground with only one substantial thrust.

Being airborne…it was almost like…..gliding through the sky, rather than powered flight. Lucifer’s wings were definitely moving, but unlike anything you could have imagined. They weren’t flapping or producing thrust. Instead, the wings reminded you of how things move and distort underwater. The flight stroke was so unusual, defying physics. It was as if there was no effort or strain for them.

Meanwhile, you felt pressure all over your body. You expected to feel like Rose at the front bow of the Titanic or a happy dog with its head out the window. You expected the cool air to whip against your face and burn your cheeks. However, this…produced tingles all over your body. A wooziness in your head, almost as if you were in a slowed-down dream. You didn’t feel sick; you felt intoxicated. Is it from a lack of oxygen? You could breathe perfectly fine, though. You think back to Lucifer’s words of caution, and you’re still not frightened. Flying with Lucifer felt almost like being both in yourself and outside yourself simultaneously. It was magical.

The evening sun glistened against your lover’s blonde curls. You found yourself wanting to admire the view below and around you, but the determined face of the once-angel before you was too mesmerizing. You hope this won’t be the only time they take you flying, because you haven’t been able to focus on any of the beauty from the aerial view you found yourself in.

You could feel Lucifer’s steady breathing, which boggled your mind considering the activity you two found yourself in. Then again, you expected your own breathing to be choked or unwieldy. You felt so calm and trance-like. Lucifer was holding you with such care, occasionally glancing down to ensure you were okay.

Unknowingly, tears began to wet your cheeks. They started slowly but fell quicker and quicker. It took only moments for Lucifer to see that you were crying. Worry immediately plastered itself over their face. Their concern led them to land (in a vast field of rolling hills) as soon as they could. You questioned in your head how far you two had traveled to go from cedars and firs to grassy meadows.

“Are you okay? Was it too much? I never should have taken you. Foolish.”

Confusion hung over you, because you felt amazing. Well, a bit sad to be torn away from the experience so abruptly. You had so many emotions swirling through you, and you couldn’t translate how severely you felt for the being in front of you.

In response, all you could utter was, “W-what? I’m happy.” So very happy.

Lucifer swipes at the wetness on your cheeks and brings a finger in front of you as a way to question why you were crying.

“They’re good tears. I’m…leaking joy.” You couldn’t quite explain how you felt, and you knew your spacey rambling probably wasn’t satisfactory in reassuring Lucifer. In fact, a puzzled look appears on their face. You knew Lucifer didn’t like to be befuddled or to misunderstand a situation, so you quickly clarify, “You bring me so much joy.”

Lucifer’s concern subsides a bit. It’s been so long since Lucifer was the cause of pure joy. They almost forgot what it was like, how addicting it could be. It made them want to never let you down, give into your every silly, human request. The glassy, pleased look in your eyes made Lucifer want to crawl out of their prison of pompousness and self-hatred. Here you were appreciating them and getting closer to them with no ill intent or expectations of anything in return.

Lucifer stroked your hair and kissed your forehead—thankful you were okay. It was in this moment that they decided taking you flying would be a regular occurrence.

#hi muffintopxs i'm sorry this took so long #thank you for being so amazing and patient!!#i hope you like!#ficlet #request #flying #lucifer the sandman #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer sandman #lucifer x reader

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loupettes · 2 years

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He does remember. I have never spoken about that moment aloud. “I must have loved you a lot.”

“You did.” My voice catches and I pretend to cough.

“And did you love me?” he asks.

For @gingerteaonthetardis

#because your queue tag makes me think of this quote :(#not sure about the mint green gifset but it makes me want mint choc chip ice cream so #I hope you like!#everlark #everlarkedit #loup.gif #thg #the hunger games #thgedit #thggif #panemgifs #loup.thg

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squishablesunbeam · 3 months

Text

Consequence of Action: Collared

This whole thing took on a bit of an outside perspective. Not sure why my brain did that but I hope you like! Continued bits from Consequence of Action series :)

CW: captured whumpee, mentions of beating, execution of side characters, collared, allusion to noncon, would be multiple whumpers, all the science inaccuracies in space

It had been hours since Thompson had caught him hacking into the ship's systems and unceremoniously bashed his head into the console. Still, Quinn remembered finishing and executing the program that would override the system and give Murphy's crew all the access they needed take down the Captain. He had managed to do his part at least, before being taken out of the fight and tossed into a cell. No one else had been brought into the brig with him so, at first, he held onto hope that it had been enough. That the plan was solid and Murphy had overthrown the Captain. But that felt like a long time ago now, and Murphy had yet to come for him.

Quinn's arms ached from being tied behind his back for so long and his head was throbbing. He'd managed to drag himself up the wall and onto his feet. He needed to move. They had been gearing up for this moment for months. Careful planning and precise timing had led them to this moment and Quinn refused to just sit on his ass while the others fought for all of their lives. He was useless in the cell, so he paced. All that unspent energy slowly morphed into a quiet, knowing panic that rooted itself deep in his gut.

It was one thing to know you were going to die, to accept that fact, but it was another to have to wait in dreaded anticipation for it to actually happen. Quinn pictured the many ways the Captain would do it. Execution by beheading? That was rather grand. Shot in the head? Maybe? A lot for the rest of the crew to clean up. Beaten to death? Possibly. In the end, the airlock was the most likely choice. He could do it. When the Captain's men come for him, he'd walk down the hall with his head held high. He'd let himself be led into the airlock and force himself to look straight into the Captain's cruel, evil fucking eyes.

He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't scream.

Quinn envisioned it a hundred times, preparing himself, before the door finally opened. He spun toward the sound of the door, his vision spinning along with him but he planted his feet firmly and stood his ground.

The tiny ember of hope that had remained died out in a quick burst of fury when it was the Captain that strolled into the brig instead of Murphy.

This was it. He was a dead man.

The Captain looked worse for wear. He had dried blood all down his neck and soaked into the hem of his shirt from a deep gash on his cheek. His hair was a mess and he looked like he'd been in the fight of his life. Quinn couldn't help the smirk that tugged up his lips.

“On your knees,” the Captain ordered.

Quinn huffed out a surprised breath, “Fuck you.”

–

They'd been sealed up in the airlock for hours. Still, every single one of Murphy's crew remained on their feet in defiance of these cowards that refused to just get it over with already and pull that damn lever that would send them to their deaths. They leaned heavily on one other, bloodied and broken, defeated, but by god, they would die on their feet.

Murphy was proud of each and every one of his crew. They had lost, spectacularly, but they'd fought hard.

He grunted as he tried to straighten up a bit and take some of his own weight off of Martinez's shoulder. She tightened her hold on the waistband of his pants, effectively holding him up on his feet. He squeezed her arm, hoping to convey something along the lines of, he didn't know really... thank you, I'm sorry, we're so royally fucked and it's my fault, it was worth it. He wasn't sure how to convey that much weight through a single death grip on her arm but he was pretty sure she got the message.

Murphy's leg pulsed, blood still trickling in rivulets from the wound Jackson had stabbed deep into the meat of his thigh. He figured he would die soon anyway by the heavy weight of blood soaking into his pants. He might as well go out with the few friends he had left in the feigned glory of an execution. They'll go out like sailors on this beloved, godforsaken ship of theirs and it will all be worth it. He wasn't sure how that could possibly be true, but he knew that trying and failing still mattered, somehow, in the end.

He glanced through the thick glass that separated his crew from the Captain's. The others stood in a lazy half circle around the glass of the airlock, waiting for the show with something akin to rabid glee. All except one. Murphy took his time taking in the measure of the man that would seal their fate. Sure, it was the Captain that would give the order, but it was Security Officer Collins that would heft that damn lever and suck all of the oxygen out of their lungs. And he would do it without blinking an eye.

Murphy had underestimated the man.

He knew that now.

He'd been afraid that Collins' time spent in the wars would have instilled in him a kind of honor that would be particularly offended by the overthrowing of his captain. Well, Murphy was right about that part, but he thought of Collins as a good man underneath all that blind duty and honor bullshit. Murphy will admit, he was hoping that Collins would, bare minimum, stand by and let it happen. He had to know that it was the right thing to do in the end. It turned out, Murphy had overestimated Collins' moral code and underestimated the man's effectiveness.

That was his first and second mistake.

Collins was a brutal and efficient soldier. He had almost single-handedly quelled the uprising in the battle that followed the first power outage on deck. Quinn had locked the Captain's crew out of all the consoles and sealed the doors to the armory. Murphy was certain the lack of weaponry and the element of surprise alone would turn the battle in their favor. His delusions were shattered when Murphy personally witnessed Collins taking out at least 5 of his crew in hand to hand combat and utilizing the close quarters of the ship's halls to his advantage. He'd made quick work of Murphy's best fighters and had them dead or on their knees in what couldn't have been more than a handful of minutes.

It was impressive.

God, if only he'd been on their side, they most certainly would have won. They had started with fifteen people willing to fight, and die, to overthrow the Captain and his ranks. Only six were left. Six good, decent members of Murphy's crew, forced into the airlock and shoved to their knees and there Collins stood, eyes front with his hand on the lever.

The ever dutiful soldier.

Murphy's gaze caught sight of the outer door to the chamber opening. He couldn't hear anything through the reinforced glass except for the exhausted breathing and barely contained hisses of pain from his own people. Everything outside those thick windows was silent. He drew in a sharp breath when the Captain stalked through the door dragging a bloodied man by his hair.

Seven. Seven of his crew had survived.

“Quinn.”

Murphy felt those around him tense as the man was dropped onto the floor and crumbled into a bloody heap. His hands were bound behind his back with what looked like wire and he'd taken a hell of a beating. Murphy held his breath, his heart swelling with pride, when Quinn slowly folded his knees under himself and tried to stand. The rebellion would never had made it off the ground if it wasn't for Quinn. The man was brilliant. He had a head for strategy that Murphy truly didn't expect and he knew all the ins and outs of the communication and security systems like the back of his hand. He had done his job expertly.

It was Murphy that had failed. It was Murphy that had gotten them all killed.

Quinn didn't make it far off the floor.

The Captain kneed Quinn in his ribs and the collective gasps of his crew in the chamber almost tricked Murphy's mind into thinking he could actually hear Quinn grunt in pain. The man folded in on himself. Murphy watched as Quinn grit his bloody teeth and quickly fought to straighten back up again. The Captain placed a single hand to his shoulder and it stopped his ascent this time. Quinn slumped, staying on his knees and silently gasping for breath.

The man was clearly struggling to stay conscious. Blood was oozing down his face from a gash up in his hairline but he managed to drag his head up and his eyes cleared the moment he saw Murphy through the glass. Quinn's eyes widened as understanding dawned on him that some of his people were still alive. Alive, and waiting for Quinn before they would be put to their death. His gaze darted over to Collins standing by the lever that would open the airlock and then back to Murphy again. Murphy saw the muscle in Collins' jaw jump but that was the only indication that he had any feelings at all about the impending executions.

Murphy took a small, careful step forward, his hand reaching out to Martinez for balance. He could see Quinn visibly trying to steel himself, preparing himself to be tossed in with the rest of them. Willing himself to be brave in the face of every sailors greatest fear.

“I'm sorry,” Murphy whispered, to Quinn, to his crew, to all those that the Captain would continue to hurt in their absence. He watched as Quinn actually had the audacity to smirk. He gave a half shrug as if he was saying, “hey, we did our best.”

Murphy smiled back.

Quinn grunted as the hand on his shoulder pressed him down, forcing his back to round and he hung his head, unable to keep it up any longer. Murphy could feel the eyes of the Captain on him and he finally relented, looking at the man that would order them to their collective deaths.

What he saw in that man's eyes, he didn't understand it, but it turned his blood cold.

A smirk of his own crossed the Captain's face as he revealed what looked like some sort of metal contraption out from behind his back.

“Captain? Lewis, what are you-” Murphy shook his head, limping himself another step forward as if he could actually reach the men not two feet in front of him. His words turned to ash in his throat as the Captain's hand that was pressing down on Quinn's shoulder dragged up the man's neck and grabbed under his chin.

“No,” Murphy swallowed bile.

–

Something in the room had changed.

Quinn dragged his face against his shoulder, trying to get the blood out of his eyes before forcing himself to lift his head and look at Murphy. A strange look had come over his friend's face and Quinn cocked his head. His expression had morphed from anger and brave defiance to what Quinn could only describe as repulsed horror? Quinn felt the firm grip on his shoulder loosen to almost gentle as it slid up the side of his neck and Quinn watched Murphy mouth the word “no” as a shiver crept through his own body.

Quinn startled back and slammed right into the Captain's legs when Murphy took two steps and kicked out at the thick glass separating them. Fingers tightened painfully around Quinn's chin but he couldn't tear his gaze away from Murphy. He was screaming without sound, fury turning his angry face red as he repeatedly kicked the glass. Quinn could see blood pumping from a wound on Murphy's thigh and he wanted to tell him to stop. He felt like it was all happening in some slow motion nightmare, the kind where you weren't entirely in control of your own body. He couldn't fight it when the hand gripping his chin forced his head up and he had to tear his eyes away from Murphy and look up at the Captain.

The volume in the room suddenly became far too loud. The Captain's men whooped and groaned out sounds that didn't make sense to Quinn.

He'd missed something.

“You hear me, boy?”

Quinn ground his teeth, hissing when the Captain tightened his grip on his chin.

“I'm not a fucking boy,” Quinn spit out, shifting his legs underneath him with every intention of standing. Then, the Captain's thumb brush through the blood that trickled down the side of Quinn's mouth and swiped over his bottom lip.

Quinn froze.

“Captain?” Someone said over Quinn's shoulder, but with one look from the Captain, he was silent again.

The Captain lifted his other hand and held something out in front of him. Quinn could hear the sound of the glass trembling slightly. He could practically feel Murphy throwing the full force of his body at the glass but he didn't dare look away. In the Captain's hand, was a collar. There was no other word for it. Two pieces of metal slid smoothly into one another, a lot like handcuffs, and there was even a slot for a key where the two pieces locked together.

“What-?” Quinn mumbled, confused. Why the fuck did he have a collar? Before another horrifying thought was able to pass through his mind, the Captain fisted his hair and dragged him onto his feet. He felt his body slam into the glass and an arm pressed against the back of his neck, and suddenly, he was face to face with Murphy.

A thread of fear unlike any Quinn had ever felt before unfurled itself throughout his body.

“Murphy?” Quinn stupidly said in a numb panic.

He didn't understand what this was. Why wasn't he being marched into the airlock with the rest of his crew? Why the fuck did the Captain have a fucking collar?

Murphy's face twisted in desperate, sobbing rage. Quinn felt the reverberation of the glass against his chest as Murphy kicked out at it uselessly before he finally gave up, his own chest heaving in frantic breaths.

He'd never seen Murphy look so defeated before. It didn't make any sense. Murphy was strong, idealistic. He was honorable. Murphy always held onto hope for a better world, if we could just stand up a little more for what was right. If we just fought back.

“Quinn,” he watching Murphy's mouth move, “Don't fight him, Quinn.”

Quinn swallowed the fear that boiled up into his throat. Even if he could hear Murphy's words he wouldn't have understood them.

Cool metal touched the back of Quinn's neck and that thread of fear ignited. Quinn jerked his head back, connecting solidly with something that felt very much like bone. Hands left his body just as more hands seized him and pressed him into the glass. He twisted and kicked out at anything he could find.

Quinn felt his body weakening as bodies pressed his own against the glass. Murphy just stood and watched. Quinn hated that he was the one to put that look on Murphy's face. He was supposed to be brave, to stand proudly and walk to his own death without fear.

This wasn't the plan.

He again felt the cool metal touch the back of his neck and he recoiled in the hands of the men. A hand pressed his face against the glass and they held him firm as the metal enclosed his throat.

Quinn screamed.

The sound of the lock clicked in some thick, distant part of his mind. This meant something he didn't yet understand. His body felt heavy and almost unreal, separate from his mind in a way he'd never felt before. Quinn realized he had closed his eyes and forced them open again.

Murphy had his forehead pressed to the glass, right over his own. The puffs of their breath fogged up the space between them. He didn't want Murphy to die. Not if he wasn't going to die too. They were supposed to go together. Brothers in arms. Quinn realized that Murphy was saying something again but a horrifyingly alert corner of his mind felt fingers brush up under his shirt and trail across his stomach. The men closed in around him and he felt someone press their lips against the underside of his jaw. He felt the man's stubble drag roughly against his cheek. Another hand was scratching to get their fingers underneath the waistband of his pants.

What was happening?

Quinn couldn't look away. He watched Murphy's face as the Captain muttered a single word...and then another, much louder this time. Quinn couldn't hear it past the thump of his own frantic heart pounding in his ears.

The lever that opened the airlock must have been hefted up because the big, metal doors slid silently open.

It didn't happen like in the movies, with a rush of air that sucked the crew out into the vastness of space. First, the airlock was depressurized. Air hissed out of the room and the crew's mouths opened and closed, gasping for oxygen that was no longer there. The door slid open and the gravity was turned off, their feet lifting slowly off the floor. Murphy was still mouthing words Quinn didn't understand, his mouth only stopping as he slowly passed through the doors with the rest of his crew and drifted off into nothing, leaving Quinn behind.

Quinn heard himself make a terrible, broken sound as the fingers under his shirt flattened against his stomach and he was dragged back away from the glass and into the hands of the crew.

Taglist: @peachy-panic, @ladygwennn, @whumplr-reader, @hold-him-down, @monochrome-episode, @dogface3000, @skyhawkwolf, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @whumpterful-beeeeee, @maddam-redder, @susiequaz12, @pigeonwhumps, @starlit-darkness

#consequence of action #this story always does what it wants #i hope you like!#collared whumpee #captured whumpee #execution #of side characters #dissociation #beating #noncon touching #allusions to noncon #innocent naïve Quinn in those early days 🥺

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oh-surprise-its-me · 8 months

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Roy/Jamie prompt: Jamie starts to get interested in what Roy is reading all the time and asks Roy to read out loud to him. Roy lightly teases him about it but obliges. It soon becomes this thing that they do, no judgment, just Roy and Jamie enjoying epic stories together and being unabashedly silly when the story they are reading calls for it.

I’m bringing back my Percy Jackson phase just for this prompt.

When Jamie saw Roy reading a book that clearly wasn’t a classic he was confused. He curled up on the couch next to Roy. The Xbox controller is still in his hands but he leans over Roy’s shoulder to look at the pages.

The words swim in front of his eyes. He can’t quite pick out what they’re saying. Something about a pen and a sword? Weird.

“What are you reading baby?”

Roy blinks up at Jamie. God Jaime loves how into books Roy gets. He’s transported to a whole different world. “Percy Jackson. Something Phoebe wanted to read so I figured I’d read it first.”

Jamie tilts his head. He sets the remote on the table. “Read to me?” Roy smiles. He presses a kiss to Jamie’s head, “what am I? I story time librarian?”

Jamie blushes. He curls his legs under himself and glances away. “Forget it Roy I’ll play my game you keep reading your fantasy shit.”

He leans forward to grab the remote but Roy grabs him around the waist first. He’s yanked back into Roy’s lap, “sorry. Of course I’ll read to you. I’ll always read to you.” Jamie looks at the pages. “You gotta do voices.”

Roy sighs, he presses a kiss to Jamie’s head again. “Course I do. I’m not a monster.”

There’s a beat of silence where no one says anything.

“You’ve gotta read for Annabeth though.”

Jamie sighs. “I gotta be the 12 year old girl why?”

Roy kisses Jamie’s neck, he flips back to the beginning, “I’m not sure you want me to answer that.”

There’s a smack. Roy pinches Jamie’s thigh in response.

“Fine. I’ll read for the 12 year old girl.”

Jamie gets another kiss pressed to his head for the trouble. He guesses this should be a fun experience.

Even if he does have to read for the 12 year old.

—

Jamie later learns there are buzzfeed quizzes on who’s your godly parent. He gets Apollo, he makes Roy take it and to no one’s surprise Roy gets Hades.

They’re both extremely excited to learn about Nico and Will in the later books.

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #roy kent #jamie x roy #royjamie #jamie tartt x roy kent #thanks for the ask !!#I hope you like!

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lightbluuestars · 3 months

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Hello! I was wondering if you had any thoughts about inexperienced reader( gn if possible) with Primo? I can just imagine that he would have so much patience with an inexperienced partner. I love your writing so much!🖤

thanks for the ask, my dear! i hope you like it :3

primo with an inexperienced/virgin reader

primo is such a soft and gentle partner when it comes to taking virginity/plain inexperience

he wants to make your first time with him a memorable experience

he’s so soft and sweet with you! he will most definitely talk you through every little thing he does

makes sure you know the safeword, and if you do say it he stops whatever he’s doing immediately, very intent on making sure you’re comfortable in every way

it starts with soft, slow kisses. when you climb into his lap to start kissing him harder, he asks if you really want to. when you say yes, he cups your jaw gently and leans in to kiss you once more.

he’ll lay you down on his soft silk sheets, the dim lighting in the room perfect for the occasion

he helps you out of your clothing, and his eyes rake over your body hungrily, but he knows to take it slow.

he’ll caress your body so gently, loving touches all over until he reaches your sensitive spot and you let out a quiet moan.

will pleasure you with his mouth first, he coaxes the sweetest sounds out of you

he knows how huge his dick is, and if you want him inside you, he will be inside you

puts a shit ton of lube on his cock so he slides in easy

fingers your hole (whichever one) and scissors you open to prep you for his size

when he starts to slowly push in, he praises you and tells you how good you’re taking him in, all the while stroking your hair and making sure you’re okay with every inch that sinks in inside you

once he’s pushed in to the hilt,he stills and waits for you to tell him it’s okay to start moving

when he gets the green light, his thrusts are slow and well spaced apart, not too far apart, evenly spaced enough to keep you in a constant state of pleasure

you cum so fast because of how huge his dick is and how good he feels, and he soon pulls out and cums on your stomach/ass because you are so tight

an amazing experience, he’s so so so gentle and caring. his aftercare is also so amazing, he’ll shower/bathe you and give you a little massage if you need it. an amazing man <3

#i want him so bad #i hope you like!#anna answers #primo #primo x reader #spicyness #my writing #my headcanons

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undertale-writing-times · 11 months

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Can I request 🌹 for daydream soul mate prompt

"when soul mate get hurt a flower would grew on that spot"

You remembered one of the first times those flowers grew on you. It was just on your finger, and you asked your parents what it was. They told you about the soulmate legend, and you thought it was so cool! Then they just kept growing. When the wound healed the flowers would die and wither.

Then one day they grew again, but they grew over one of your eyes and across your back. You screamed, panicking and wondering what was going on. Your family tried to calm you down, but you couldn't be calmed.

You were freaking out because what the hell happened to your soulmate? After that day, the flowers over your eye never died, so you were blinded in that eye but the ones that spread across your back went away after a while.

Over the years, you got used to the flowers over your eye. They were annoying, but you were able to deal with it, luckily and you always keep an eye out for anyone that had one damaged eye but you've never met anyone like that. It was strange; it sort of felt like they just... weren't there.

Then you met him.

He appeared out of a swirling portal one day, two others coming out with him. You could, honestly, not care less about the other two the leader was the one that caught your attention. He was covered in this... goop? It had the same color as the sky when the sun was setting but darker, and tentacles that were whipping around on his back. Over his eye was more of that goop, the same eye that was covered in flowers for you.

This was your soulmate?

The other two jump down from where they had been, the goopy one starting to talk, "Greetings everyone. I am Daydream, and I am here to make everyone happy. It is very nice to meet you all1" He laughs, holding up his arms, "I can tell many of you are afraid, but fear not, we are the good guys! Protecting you all from my terrible brother and his goons." the one with the large brush swipes it up and black ink spread out changing shapes. Horses all running together, sea animals swimming. It was beautiful.

The blue one starts to run around, greeting everyone in a happy tone. Even though they were all being so nice... you had a strange feeling in your gut. This didn't feel... safe.

Then your eyes met with Daydream's, and he blinks then smiles and moves down. He was coming right towards you...

#Dreamswap #Dreamswap Dream #Daydream #Daydream X Reader #Reader X Daydream #Soulmate #Soulmates #Soulmate prompts #Soulmate Fic #Short Fic #I hope you like!#soulmates #undertale alternate timeline #undertale ask blog #undertale alternate universe #undertale au #undertale imagines

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timeofjuly · 2 months

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Wishbone

Chapter 1 - The Second Mage

Power hums at your fingertips. It burns like menthol, a cool, searing tingle that makes you want to ball your hands into fists.

After three years, you’ve learnt to suppress the impulse. You know how to keep your hands relaxed and open, to hold back the way your fingers want to jitter against the pulse of power. Even your fingernails have been polished and artfully trimmed and they shine under the harsh studio lights. You have been scrubbed into softness. A faux gentleness.

Your publicist has impressed the importance of this onto you many times before. Let the First Mage convey the image of violence and blood and power, she says. You’re the face of the Circle. You lend us humanity. You laugh and smile and know the right things to say. Your hands should say that too.

But your fingers, belying their appearance, are itching for violence and blood and power now as you stare at the side of Empress Toriel’s head as she begins her portion of the Mage-Monster Peace Treaty proceedings. It’s route now to keep the glare off of your face, but it’s never become easier.

Find it on AO3.

Fic summary below the cut:

Wishbone

Hold tight.

When the barrier fell, the spell preventing humans from using magic broke with it and you, along with your twin, became one of the first mages in a millennia. The monsters emerged from beneath the mountain hungry for retribution against the humans who trapped them there and the newly formed Circle of Mages responded in kind, launching the start of a bloody conflict.

Three years on, the two factions finally agree on peace terms. You are the Second Mage, subordinate only to the First. You want one thing: justice for the death of your twin at the hands of a dust-mad monster.

Pull.

When a soulmate bond snaps into place between you and Captain Sans Serif’s brother, Papyrus, your goal becomes harder to pursue. The unfulfilled bond between you and the Captain only complicates things further. Your rage burns, warring with the two new links that have been thrust upon you.

Sacrifice, you find, has many faces, and all of them are looking at you.

Rip yourself in two.

#swapfell papyrus/reader #swapfell sans/reader #swapfell x reader #swapfell sans x reader #swapfell papyrus x reader #wishbone #Really pulled the trigger on posting this one well before I planned lmao #I hope you like!#everyone in this fic is gonna go through it

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thatmooncake · 1 year

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@urbanqhoul Your Left Behind AU babies have been rotating around in my head since forever sooo here’s Sun attempting to wear the Freddy ears hood over his rays!

#fnaf #sundrop #moondrop #fablesketches #I hope you like!#I love the way you draw them #they look so squishable

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liamobrienlove · 1 year

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Liam as the DM for Part 3 of the ESO Blackwood Stories - The Golden Goose (requested by @snooneko ).

#liam o'brien #that shirt was an excellent choice #i hope you like!#critical role #critical role cast #my gifs #i'm killing someone queue please

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aceghosts · 2 months

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OTP Moodboard: Fade x Joseph Seed

Happy Birthday @voidika! I hope your birthday is a fun one!

#voidika #fade #x: leave the pain behind #joseph seed x OC #just a little something for your birthday!#I hope you like!#Fade is such a cool OC #and I love her relationship with Joseph!#my edits

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izzyeffinhands · 24 days

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The Farmers Market

Stede had been the one to first put the idea into his head when he’d checked the refrigerator and noted they needed to go grocery shopping. Izzy tried to avoid the grocers as much as he could, but there were some things you needed that you had to get there. Bread, milk, eggs, random snacks. But fruits and vegetables and a few other things Izzy had a preferred stop. Every other weekend he likes to drive away from their seaside town and on into the country to visit a farmer’s market. And today, Izzy decided to bring Stede as a date. Might have seemed a strange idea at first, but he wanted to show him where their tasty food came from. There was a reason he had the best bakery in town!

About an hour drive in the white tents became visible. Rows and rows of them, trucks and trailers to haul the goods and the stands. This was one of his favorite places. Izzy could mass order his ingredients but farm fresh was so much better. The taste was crisp, sweeter. He had so many deals with local growers it would make Stede’s head spin. He parked the car on the grass in a designated area, before looping his arm about the blonde’s waist. “ We’ll have to make a few trips back and forth to the car but by the end it will be worth it. Trust me. “ The doors were locked and off the pair walked to the entrance.

Vendors were on either side in white tents and awnings. Vibrant colors of fresh food lit up both sides of the aisle. “ You can get so much here. Fruit, vegetables, fresh eggs.. there’s even a stand that sells fresh honey and it’s the only honey I’ll ever use.” Izzy must have been excited, he was talking more. But he did have a worry Stede might find it all a bit boring, but this was his world.

— “ IZZY!! “

Before he could say anything else, a young man at a nearby stall had screamed his name and caught his attention. He was all smiles at seeing the baker, and Izzy decided they’d visit his stall first. He tugged Stede close and brought him on over. But he was nearly lifted off the ground in an enormous hug by a rather tall black man with braids. —!!!! “ You’re killing me, Ivan.. “ He choked out and the man dropped him with an apology. Izzy took a breath and laughed.

“ Stede, this is Ivan. Ivan, this is my boyfriend Stede. “ To which Ivan arched a brow and even looked a bit impressed, elbowing the baker slightly in the side. “ Oh he’s cute, Iz. Look at those baby cheeks! Any friend of Izzy’s is a friend of mine. —- Oh!! The blueberry bushes are finally producing good fruit. “ Which he turned around and fetched a small container of, opening it up to the blonde. “ Want to taste? Best blueberries you’ll find in ten counties! I swear it! “

#avastyetwats #I just wanted to give Ivan some love <3 #the farmers market #I hope you like!#hold me close and hold me fast

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alder-reid · 4 months

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