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vettelsvee · 2 days

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THIS IS ALL MY FAULT | Sebastian Vettel

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sebastian vettel x platonic!photographer!reader

based on this request: Okay! So after watching the run Sebastian organized at Imola, I has the idea of reader being someone that works for him (not sure what for though) maybe getting really sick for running in the rain that day, which ends up with Sebastian feeling guilty over it. It’s a silly idea, really, but I think it has a lot of potential to vibes similar to what Sebastian seems to have with the drivers, kind of playing dad to the grid 🥺.

summary: you work as a photographer during the forever senna tribute seb prepared, but you end up being sick

word count: 1618

warnings: none of them really! seb feeling guilty because he thinks reader got sick because of him.

a/n: I'm finally back! sorry for not posting at all during all this past month, university has had me really stressed but I'm finally free from it until september! idk if this is actually something well written because i haven't written anything for a month! also, hope you anon like this even it's definitely crap 😭

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback as well as comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! <3

The rain kept falling on the circuit, but that wasn't such an excuse for Sebastian and his team to cancel what they had been working on for months.

The run that the retired driver had decided to organize on Thursday not only with Formula 1 drivers, but also with those from Formula 2 and 3, and even other members of the sport, in honor of Ayrton Senna and Roland Ratzenberger, was more than perfect. It was an absolute success. And Sunday, when Vettel would drive the car that once belonged to the Brazilian pilot who died 30 years ago on that same circuit, hadn't even arrived yet.

You had been busy taking photos of everything, as you were Sebastian's official photographer. Now, you were gathering all the equipment you had used because the cold you were enduring was barely bearable. You had been out in the rain all day, following Seb wherever he went, which had made you feel increasingly worse. Now, your hands couldn't stop shaking, and you felt like you were about to faint at any moment.

"Y/N, are you okay?" one of the team members asked.

"Yes, of course," you replied with a weak smile. "I'm just a bit cold. I'll be back to be the same me as soon as we get back to the hotel."

The man nodded, not wanting to press you further despite not being very convinced by your words after seeing your completely pale face.

You decided to continue with your work, ignoring anyone who approached you to exchange even the slightest word. You tried to ignore the growing headache, the fatigue, and the tightness in your chest, which seemed to be worsening. Although the rain had stopped and you were in one of the garages, the sky remained dark.

You were surprised to see Sebastian, still wearing a short-sleeved shirt and shorts, just a few meters away from you. You shook your head, trying not to pay attention, and certainly not to worry. He was just your "boss," so to speak, and he was old enough to know what he needed to do to avoid getting sick. Well, he also had Britta, who was like a second mother to him.

A sharp pain pierced your temples. You staggered slightly, and if it hadn't been for your momentum making you lean your back against the wall behind you, you would have fallen to the ground.

"For God's sake, Y/N, you look terrible," he said as calmly as he could, though you could sense his nerves in his tone of voice. "You should go and have a rest. Like… now."

"Seb, we still have a lot to do. It's not just packing up the equipment, but also transferring the photos to the computer, editing them, then preparing the posts for you Instagram account..."

"Y/N, I love your work, but you've done more than enough for today," he interrupted, putting a hand on your shoulder, running his fingers carefully over it. "Now, I'll talk to Britta and we'll assign it to someone who knows what they're doing, okay?"

For a moment, you considered protesting, reproaching him that this was your job, and that's why he wanted you on his team since shortly before leaving Aston Martin, but the way he looked at you made you stop. He seemed worried, very worried. That's why you ended up not only reluctantly accepting but also letting him guide you to a nearby chair.

"Stay here. I'll bring you something warm."

As you watched Seb walk away, you sighed, managing to relax somehow. You saw him enter the Red Bull hospitality, and you assumed it was where he felt most comfortable. A few minutes later, you saw the blonde with two small steaming cardboard cups. As he reached your height, he offered you one of them.

"Thank you," you murmured, wrapping your hands around the cup and taking a sip. Chocolate, something you loved, and Seb knew it perfectly.

"Do you promise you'll go back to the hotel as soon as you finish your hot chocolate?"

"I promise," you assured him. "But I can't promise that..."

"Y/N, just no work for today," he cut in, seeing that you weren't going to fulfill what you had promised. "I want you to spend today and tomorrow resting. Sunday will be a tough day for us. You can do it, at least for me, or am I wrong?"

You nodded your head as if you were seven years old again. You knew you were going to rest as much as you could in your hotel room, but that didn't mean you weren't going to do anything. As you had already planned, you were obviously going to continue with your work. You couldn't disappoint Sebastian, not on such an important weekend like this.

[...]

Sebastian accompanied you to the door of your room, and despite having exchanged a couple of messages with you on Friday, having let you rest all afternoon and part of Saturday morning, and having agreed that you would come to a meeting room in the hotel at 12pm on Saturday to finalize the details of tomorrow's tribute, he didn't see you there.

"Have you seen Y/N?" he asked Britta directly, a little distressed. "She told me she would come with no doubt."

"And she did come," the ex-pilot's PR commented, "but I sent her back to her room as soon as I saw her shivering. Her forehead was burning, and she said she had a slight fever. It wasn’t just a slight fever, Seb," Britta assured him.

The man nodded but became even more worried. Quickly bidding farewell to Roeske, he headed towards your room. He saw the door slightly ajar, possibly your mistake. He knocked softly before entering, and the sight that greeted his eyes made him feel bad instantly.

You were curled up in bed, trembling uncontrollably. You had a small towel on your forehead with cold water to see if you could control your body temperature since you couldn't take your medicine again until the corresponding hours had passed, which was already the next day.

Your face was completely flushed, and your breathing was labored.

As soon as you realized Seb's presence, your eyes welled up with tears. You tried to force a smile, but all that came out were tears from how bad you felt not only for Seb to see you like this but also for ruining something so important.

"Seb... You didn't have to come," you stammered, your voice barely audible.

"Of course, I did! Don't be ridiculous!" he responded quickly, sitting beside you. He placed a hand on your forehead and realized Britta was right. "My God, Y/N, you're burning up. Why didn't you tell me you were feeling so bad?"

"I... didn't want to worry you," you admitted between tears of frustration and exhaustion. "Tomorrow is an important day. You need to be resting to give your best tomorrow. There are people who have come just for you, Seb, you can't let them down."

You noticed him tense a bit at the mention. His lips curved, and his jaw tightened. He took a deep breath and took your hand almost without thinking.

"This is my fault..." he whispered softly. He seemed overwhelmed with guilt, and much of it. You cursed yourself for making him think that when it was all really your fault. "Nothing is more important than your health, Y/N. I'm so sorry, really..."

"Seb, it's okay, really. These things happen; it's completely normal. There's probably someone else like me..."

His silence was the response you partly expected, but it didn't hurt until you saw him shake his head.

"I just wanted to give my best so that the photos would turn out perfect and you would have content worthy of all the work you've put into this..." was all you could say.

"You're already the best, Y/N," he said softly, tucking a strand of hair away from your face. "In fact, you're so perfect that you should stop being so perfect to start worrying more about yourself. And since you don't worry about yourself... let me do it for you, okay?"

Although you didn't agree with him and didn't believe you deserved his praise, you were too weak to argue.

Sebastian stayed with you all day, including the night. He made sure you were as comfortable as possible, brought you water, and soaked the cold cloth in water to lower your fever as soon as possible, miraculously something that worked. He didn't leave your side, not even when you had a coughing fit or sneezed without covering your mouth.

Your fever began to lower in the late hours of that day. Your breath calmed down, and the color seemed to return to your cheeks. Seb sighed with relief, quickly hugging you while continuously placing small kisses on your face and playing with your hair, making you laugh incessantly.

After ordering room service for dinner, since your appetite seemed to have returned, you fell asleep, at least apparently. To avoid disturbing you, Seb went from lying down next to you to reclining on a sofa next to the bed. His eyes were heavy with tiredness, but that didn't stop him from staying alert in case you needed his help.

"Rest, Y/N," he whispered, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead before caressing it. "I guess I'll have to take you out to dinner for the damages I caused."

You smiled at the last thing Seb had said, grateful that every time you got sick, you didn't fall into a deep sleep, and wishing that what Seb had said was true.

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mxmmyprentiss · 1 day

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jealousy, jealousy

Summary: JJ was always observant of her surroundings. It's one of the skills that made her an excellent profiler. So when JJ saw you walk out of the supply room one afternoon followed by Emily leaving a minute later from that same supply room, she decided something was up. She has watched you and Emily closely since then. Genre: Fluff Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader / Emily Prentiss & Jennifer Jareau / Jennifer Jareau & Reader Warnings: jealousy, teasing, suggestive/implied smut (no actual smut scene) Word count: 3.4K+

A/N:

This idea suddenly came to me today and I just had to write it to get it out of my head. Enjoy!

All likes, reblogs and comments are encouraged and appreciated! :)

AO3

JJ was always observant of her surroundings. It's one of the skills that made her an excellent profiler.

So when JJ saw you walk out of the supply room one afternoon followed by Emily leaving a minute later from that same supply room, she decided something was up. She has watched you and Emily closely since then.

—

It’s one of those rare days that the team had no active case but there was a lot of backlogs on the reports and other paperworks so Emily distributed them on the team asking for help. The team willingly helped her (with the bribe of dinner and drinks later this week).

The lingering touch of your hand on Emily’s hand when she handed you some folders didn’t get past JJ’s sharp eyes.

She decided now was a good time to start her plan. She stood up and walked over to your desk. “Y/N, can I ask you for advice?” JJ asked, sitting on your desk. Emily looked at JJ too.

“Yeah, sure. What’s it about?” You answered with a smile.

JJ rubbed the back of her neck and stretched her back. “Don’t you have a background in physical therapy?”

“Yeah, I did rehab medicine for like a year then I got bored of it.” You chuckled, wincing at the reminder of your decisions. “Why’d you ask, JJ? Do you need one? I still know -”

“No, no…” JJ rubbed your arm up and down. “I was wondering if you still know what could be causing this stiff neck I was having lately. Right here,” She dragged your hand on the back of her neck.

Emily watched the exchange between you and JJ and couldn’t help the small fire starting inside her.

“Must be your sleeping position. Do you know how bad your sleeping and sitting positions are, especially on the jet?” You let out a ‘tsk’ sound as you shook your head, still oblivious to the way Emily was looking back and forth between the both of you.

JJ wasn’t letting your hand go, now she was holding your hand on her lap. “A good massage would cure this. Do you want to go to a spa with me tomorrow night? My treat.” JJ winked at you, grinning.

There was a small kick at the back of your foot and you realize Emily hasn’t left yet. She was clenching her jaw.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t. I have plans, JJ.”

JJ’s grin turned into a pout. “Such a shame. I was hoping I could finally see that tattoo on your back.”

“You have a tattoo?” Spencer spinned around in his chair, curiously turning to your table upon hearing what JJ said. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” You quickly dismissed the questions. “Let’s all get back to work, shall we?”

The squeeze that JJ gave your shoulders didn’t get past Emily’s scrutinizing eyes. She asked you to follow her to her office and bring the folders she just handed you. You followed her without a question.

Emily closed the door to her office, almost like a slam but not quite. “So, what’s that?”

“What’s what?” You asked, confused about what she wanted to know. “My tattoo? You’ve seen it.”

“Don’t play dumb.” Emily rolled her eyes, back leaning against the desk. “JJ was clearly flirting with you.”

“She was?” You frowned, thinking. “She was always friendly.”

Emily shook her head, biting her lower lip for a second. “Not like that. She’s not usually this touchy.”

“Well,” You cleared your throat. “Don’t think too much about it now. It’s fine.”

Emily didn’t think more of it for now and dismissed you to your desk.

—

It has been happening a lot lately. You sleeping over at Emily’s apartment.

You let out a loud yawn, gently rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you enter the kitchen. The smell of bacon made your stomach grumble and the scent of brewing coffee filled your nose. You saw Emily in her adorable peach robe, busy making an elaborate breakfast on the counter. You shuffle behind her, pressing up close to her back and wrapping your arms around her waist.

“Good morning,” You greeted her, pressing a small trail of kisses on her neck. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a log.” Emily smiled. She slightly leaned her back onto your body, feeling like she might just fall asleep again snuggled up against you. “Breakfast is ready.”

“And she cooks.” You said cheerfully, grabbing two mugs and pouring a freshly brewed coffee for both of you. “Thank you, my love.” You gave a quick peck on the lips before sitting beside her.

“Eat up. We have to be at the office in 30.”

“We’ll shower together to save time. Then you’ll drive. You can be a reckless driver.” You teased, chewing on the food. Emily glared at you, knowing all too well that you’re right but not enjoying the fact that you are. “Remember that you love me.”

“Not when you’re so smug.” She gave you a deadpan look, before cracking and smiling lightly upon seeing the little bruises that scattered your neck and shoulder.

—

You both got to work on time. Emily got in the elevator first and you got into the next one to make it less suspicious.

Emily was just about to enter her office when you stepped out of the elevator. You pushed past the glass doors and said hello to everyone. Reid offered you a cup of coffee and you accepted it wholeheartedly.

Meanwhile, JJ had a knowing look in her eyes as she watched you and Emily over the top of her computer screen, but kept quiet for a moment and pretended to work, waiting to see if she could catch any more ‘suspicious’ activity between the both of you like how you always arrived two minutes later after Emily did for the past few weeks now.

To put her plan in motion, JJ sat on your desk, asking you random questions that weren’t work-related at all like if you saw the latest episode of the same TV show that you were watching, or if you listened to the latest album release of Taylor Swift.

You couldn’t help glancing at the distracting way she was alternating her thighs as she sat in front of you.

From her office, Emily could see the whole thing. JJ was sitting on your desk and how your eyes sometimes fell on JJ’s thighs that were barely covered by her skirt. A small twinge of jealousy flared inside Emily’s chest but she tried to tamp it down and not feel that way. JJ was a friend and coworker after all, and there’s no way that she or you would do anything more, especially in the workplace. She took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself down and not let her mind run away with unnecessary thoughts.

That was the plan until Emily saw JJ rubbing your shoulders and arms. The sight made a small frown cross her lips, and that twinge of jealousy in her chest grew slightly bigger. She kept her expression composed as she watched from the corner of her eye, still attempting to not let her worries get to her but slightly failing as she noticed JJ getting more touchy with you.

Emily felt like she was about to lose it. Her jaw clenched slightly and her fist accidentally crumpled a piece of paper as she watched JJ wipe the coffee stain off your chin. That twinge of jealousy flared and turned into a blazing fire burning in her chest as she saw JJ’s touch being so close to your mouth.

Emily’s eyes widened in surprise as JJ accidentally spilled some coffee onto your shirt. A flash of annoyance flickered across her face. Although she still held the expression at bay, her annoyance was quickly becoming more evident as she saw you follow JJ out of the bullpen and away from her line of sight. The roaring fire in her chest was getting bigger and bigger.

Emily’s fists clenched tightly at her lap as she saw you come back wearing JJ’s shirt. The sight of it only made her feel more annoyed.

She felt her annoyance growing by the second as you approached her office.

“Hey, do you want coffee? I can get you some at the break room.” You said in your usual cheery voice.

“You look ridiculous.” Emily spat without even looking at you, pretending to read the reports in her table.

You frowned, eyebrows furrowing. You took a quick look at your shirt. There was nothing wrong with it. “Huh?”

Emily stood up, closing the blinds of her office, sensing that this conversation might be long and need privacy.

She finally looked at you. “Well, you’re walking around looking absolutely ridiculous in that shirt. You could have just taken it off rather than walking around looking like a fool.” Her voice was bitter and sarcastic now, clearly agitated by your current appearance that screamed I’m with JJ!

“JJ spilled coffee on me.” You reasoned.

She rolled her eyes, her mood growing more agitated as she listened to your excuse for your outfit. “You just had to put on her shirt. Why didn’t you just take it off, huh?”

“You want me to walk around topless? I don’t think people would approve.”

“I never said you should walk around topless. I said to take the damn shirt off since you already look ridiculous in it.” Emily let out an annoyed huff, glaring at you. She couldn’t help but think you looked like you’re parading around with JJ by wearing her shirt, and that did nothing but stoke the blazing jealousy inside her.

“What’s exactly wrong with it? It’s comfy. I’ll change later if I really look so ridiculous.” You said, still oblivious why Emily was suddenly acting like this. “JJ said I looked good in it.” You whispered, mostly to yourself, but Emily heard it.

She let out a small scoff, rolling her eyes at your words. Your statement only made her feel more aggravated. Her hands gripped the armrest of her chair, jaw clenching as the jealousy burned like wildfire inside of her. “Oh, of course. You always do what JJ says, huh?”

“Wh - what?”

Her eyes narrowed, voice cold as she responded to you, “You always do what JJ says. She says you should wear the stupid shirt, she says you look good in it so you take the compliment, she says anything and you do it without question. Isn’t that right?”

Emily never felt possessive or jealous like this before, but she was feeling it now and she couldn’t exactly control it.

You took a step closer to Emily. “It’s just a shirt, Em.”

She scoffed loudly and rolled her eyes again. “Of course it’s just a shirt. But it’s a shirt from JJ, and that’s what matters, right? You’d rather have anything that she gave you rather than something from me?”

So that’s what it was. It finally clicked into your thick skull.

Without saying a word, you took off the shirt, leaving you in your bra.

Emily’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of you taking your shirt off, revealing your bra and making her feel slightly flustered. Her eyes darted across your figure before snapping back up to your face. She swallowed thickly, quickly trying to regain composure, crossing her arms in front of her chest and still glaring. “Well, are you happy now? Because I’m sure JJ must love seeing you standing around in your bra.”

You let out an exasperated groan. “I wear it, you complain. I take it off, you complain. What am I supposed to do?”

“I want you to dress like a professional. A bra is not a proper attire and I can’t have you parading around the office in only that while everyone can see you. It’s embarrassing.”

“God,” you sighed. You quickly put the shirt back on.

As Emily sees you put the shirt back on, she felt satisfied that you were no longer standing around half naked. “Good. I don’t want you half naked out in the open where absolutely anyone can see you.” Emily walked closer to you, pulling the hem of the stupid shirt. “You’re mine and that’s enough. I don’t want JJ or any other agent getting any ideas.” She muttered under her breath in a bitter grumble.

You let out a small laugh. “Is this what this is about? You want to stake your claim on me?”

“What else do I need to say to get through that thick skull of yours?”

Emily was caught off guard by the quick peck on the lips that you gave her. “You look cute when you’re jealous.” She rolled her eyes again. You wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her close. “You know I love you, right?”

Emily nodded shyly, not meeting your eyes.

“You know I love you and only you, right?” You asked again, lifting her chin, forcing her to look you in the eyes.

“I know.”

“I was never not yours, Emily.” You reassured her, brushing your hand on her forearm, squeezing it lightly.

And in an instant, the wildfire in Emily’s chest started to die.

And when you got home that night, Emily shoved you on the couch and ripped JJ’s shirt from your body. You hoped JJ would forgive you. Or Emily.

—

As usual, Emily was just about to enter her office when you got out of the elevator. You walked to your desk with a cup of coffee in hand and your handbag on the other.

JJ’s eyes roamed over you and the dark green turtleneck you were wearing, taking in your appearance before sitting on your desk and greeting you. “Morning, hot stuff. I like the turtleneck.”

“Uh, thanks. I just bought it.” You felt your cheeks warming up.

“It suits you.” Luke commented with a cocky smirk on his face, taking a sip from his mug as his eyes roamed over you in that intense, curious way he did with everything he investigated. But this time the look held a hint of teasing to it, his eyes slowly going over you as if he could look past the turtleneck to see the hickeys you were obviously hiding.

“Stop staring, guys. Seriously.” You said, the blush on your face intensified.

“Why? You can’t handle it, hot stuff?” Luke smirked again before taking another sip of his coffee. JJ tried to hide her chuckle behind her own mug.

You shot him a glare and he only chuckled. You turned to JJ for backup. “JJ, make him stop.”

“I’m telling Prentiss to move your desk way over there so when Garcia gets out of her lair, you’ll be the first person she sees.” It was your turn to smirk, watching Luke suddenly tensed a bit at your words, a hint of color appearing on his face.

“Looks like you still have it bad for our sexy tech analyst.” You teased, eyes twinkling as you challenged him to say something to refute it.

Luke shot you both a sarcastic look, his eyes narrowing with slightly annoyed defiance at the teasing.

You and JJ did a high five, watching the way Luke’s ears slightly reddened and the way the color rose on his cheeks in a blush as he walked away.

When JJ stood up to get back to her desk, one of her heels broke causing her to stumble and somehow landed heavily on your lap, her hands grasping at your shoulders and steadying herself as she fell onto you with a stunned look on her face.

“You okay?” You asked JJ, worried that her ankle might have been sprained or something.

JJ stared at you for a moment before the stunned look on her face was replaced with a smirk. She stared down at you with her arms around your shoulders and her face inches from yours, a teasing smile on her lips as she replied, “Oh, I’m perfect. You’re not a bad cushion, I’ll admit.”

You felt a tightness in your throat. Not because of JJ on your lap, but because of Emily glaring from her office.

“Y-you should get up, JJ.”

“Why? I’m comfortable.” JJ whispered huskily, trailing her fingers along your shoulders and gently squeezing them.

“I … we should …”

JJ’s eyes suddenly widened as she saw Emily step out of her office, watching as Emily’s gaze immediately landed on her. JJ stayed put in your lap and you remained sitting, frozen and frankly scared.

“JJ, come on. Prentiss is h-here.” You said, trying to mask the stutter on your voice. Your heart started beating rapidly as Emily stared angrily.

A smug smile continued to spread on JJ’s face as she continued sitting still. “She definitely doesn’t look happy, right, hot stuff?” Her fingers trailed on the back of your neck.

“I … “ You finally pushed JJ up when Emily stepped back into her office.

Emily had just gotten into her office when you came jogging quickly to her, slightly breathless as you reached her office. You saw her looking down at her desk with her knuckles on it and a fierce, possessive look on her face, almost looking like a predator about to pounce. Jealousy and possessiveness were consuming her mind as she replayed in her head the sight of JJ sitting on your lap.

“Emily, it’s not what you think.”

Emily was silent for a moment, her eyes still fixed on the desk, her fists clenched on top of it, anger and jealousy swirling in her eyes as the image replayed in her head over and over. Her chest was rising and falling in sharp breaths of anger.

You were scared to say something but you tried, even stuttering. “E-Em, i-it wasn’t …”

She was silent for a moment more before she finally looked up to you as you nervously stumbled over your words. Her burning, jealous eyes roamed over you.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Tell me I’m the only one allowed to touch you. Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you belong with me.” Emily finally spoke, rising from her desk and stalking over to you, eyes burning intensely as she prowled towards you.

“You’re the only one allowed to touch me. I’m yours. I belong with you.” You told her confidently, without stuttering, and truthfully.

“Damn right.”

Emily was about to kiss you when a knock interrupted her plans. She growled under her breath, her body tensing as her eyes darkened and she glared at the door. “Come in.”

As if to make things worse for you, it was JJ who came in.

You stared at the two women having a stare down. Emily’s hand reached possessively around your waist.

JJ ignored Emily’s heated stare as she turned to you. “I like my shirt better on you.” She sauntered towards you and pulled the hem of your turtleneck.

You could feel Emily tightening her grip on your waist, yanking your body against hers and away from JJ.

“Relax, Emily.” JJ said, letting out a small laugh.

You swallowed before taking a deep breath. “I-I think we should … all calm down and … t-talk.”

Emily’s breathing was still heavy but it slowed slightly at your words, her body still pressed firmly against yours.

But JJ only smirked at your stuttering words, staring down at you with amusement as she cocked an eyebrow. “Am I touching what’s yours, Emily?” JJ’s finger trailed on your stomach. “You really shouldn’t leave your toys hanging around so nicely. Somebody might take them.”

“JJ.” Emily growled possessively at JJ's taunting words, her fingers digging deeper into your hip, her eyes burning dark and fiercely possessive at the idea of someone trying to take you from her.

“JJ, I’m with Emily. I’m Emily’s girlfriend.”

Emily’s eyes widened slightly in stunned surprise at your sudden admission, before a flicker of smile tugged at her lips, warmth and affection replacing the burning jealousy filling her eyes.

Then, out of nowhere, JJ burst out laughing and Emily furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and annoyance.

“Come on, Emily. I’m just trying to get you guys to admit this. You really don’t think I would steal your girl, right?”

Emily’s eyes widened in surprise as JJ suddenly pulled her into a hug, her body tensing at the sudden contact, but then slowly relaxed into it, and hugged JJ back.

“You … are evil, Jennifer Jareau.” You let out a deep breath, finally the tightness on your throat and chest were gone.

“I’ll get you back for this, JJ.” Emily mumbled on JJ’s ear before pulling back to which earned a laugh from the blonde.

“I’ll see you guys later. And you!” JJ pointed at you. “You better take care of my friend or I will kick your ass.”

You gave her a salute and a smile.

#jaye writes #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fluff #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #criminal minds fic #criminal minds

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aemondsbabe · 23 hours

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summary: your uncle catches you sneaking from the keep and decides you need to be punished, but finds a sweet surprise instead

pairing: daemon x niece!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, canon typical incest, infidelity but it's not really mentioned rhaenyra just exists lol, mentions of menstruation, reader is on her period, period kink on daemon's part, blood kink, blood, spanking, mild coercion, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m), slight corruption kink, good cop/bad cop daemon

word count: 4.4k

a/n: this fic is part of a collab with a bunch of my lovely moots! @lady-phasma came to us with an ask about period sex and daemon and, being as lovely as she is, she offered us all the chance to collab on it -- choosing our own characters & how to play the story!

🩸masterlist of everyone's fics here!

all board creds to the lovely @zaldritzosrose ♥️

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

❤️my masterlist

🦋find me on ao3!

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“Uncle, please!” You plead again, though you know it’s useless; your voice carries in the empty corridors of the Keep, “I promise I won’t do it again! I swear it!”

Daemon merely grunts in response, his grip on your shoulder tightening while he guides you along. You struggle to keep up with his long strides, his quick pace nearly knocking you over; your heart leaps into your throat when you’re finally tugged to a lurching stop.

“In you get,” he says gruffly, leaving you no room to argue as he ushers you into his study, “You and I have much to discuss, little niece.”

Huffing petulantly, you duck under his arm and slowly make your way into the small chamber. Truthfully, it was normally used as storage for the library but since Daemon and Rhaenyra and their sons had been back in King’s Landing, he had all but commandeered it for himself and had ordered that a writing desk be brought into the room. Glancing around at the various high bookshelves, you wince when he finally pulls the door closed.

“Now,” he drawls, walking around to stand before you, arms crossed over his broad chest, “Do you want to explain to me exactly why I found you sneaking through the halls at this hour?” His violet eyes bore into yours, making you feel flush under his exacting stare.

“I was merely going to the kitchens!” You murmur defensively, holding his gaze for only a second longer before glancing away, “I just… I was going to get more of the lemon cakes we had at dinner this evening! I know it’s naughty, but I –”

“No,” he cuts you off, voice low and firm as he narrows his eyes at you, no doubt seeing through your lies with ease. “You were being naughty, sweet niece, I dare say that bit is true,” he smirks, hooking a finger under your chin and forcing your eyes up toward his, “But we both know it wasn’t lemon cakes you were after.”

“I-It was!” You try once more, internally flinching at the way your voice cracks.

“This is a very fine dress for simple lemon cakes, then, isn’t it?” His brows raise knowingly while his other hand comes up to pluck at an embroidered sleeve.

“Well… well it wouldn’t be proper to be out in my night –”

“So, it’s propriety you’re so concerned with now, is it?” He cuts you off again, smirking wildly as he’s hardly even having to work at cornering you, the sweet little thing that you are, “That’s quite funny, seeing as how it’s also very improper for a young lady, a young princess at that, to be out galavanting around King’s Landing all night…”

You balk at that, lips parting in surprise as your brows furrow. “I wasn’t!” You quickly breathe, voice sounding more like a mousey little squeak, “I would never, uncle! I merely… I o-only got dressed to go to –”

“Come now,” he says slowly, voice low but firm, “This isn’t even the same pretty dress you had on at dinner. If you’re going to lie, at least try and be good at it.”

You open your mouth instinctually, a defensive reply ready on your tongue, though you quickly think better of it and snap your lips shut once more, jaws clenched. Your eyes flit away from him and your heart hammers in your chest; you hate the way you can feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you swallow thickly, fighting against the tightness building at the back of your throat, the stinging behind your eyes.

“Shh, there’s no need for all that,” he murmurs, swiping a thumb beneath your eye to quickly wipe away an errant tear; your breath catches in your throat at how quickly he can shift from intimidating to doting.

“Please… please don’t tell my mother,” you whine, switching to bargaining instead, “If she finds out, I won’t be allowed out again until I’m married and Gods know when that might be…”

He chuckles at that, a playful smirk on his lips when he shakes his head. “I won’t tell on you, sweetling,” he all but croons, making you relax somewhat until you see a devious gleam in his eyes, “If you tell me what you were really up to. Because I know damn well it wasn’t lemon cakes.”

Your heart sinks again and you chew at your bottom lip for a moment, nervously wringing your hands. You cannot tell him the truth, you know that much but you hardly trust yourself to speak at all, fearing he’ll work it out of you one way or another.

Daemon’s impatient grumble makes you wince. “I was just… just going to a tavern! Honest!” You rush out, squeaking and stumbling over your words like a nervous mouse, “I merely wanted to go out on my own! Just once!”

He stays silent for a moment, eyes boring into yours and narrowing just slightly, before he sighs heavily and shakes his head. “What in the world were you thinking?” He murmurs, sounding exactly as he does when he scolds little Joffrey, “Do you have any idea what might’ve happened to you?”

“I would’ve been careful!”

“It’s not about what you would’ve done, naive little thing,” he snickers, making your cheeks flush, “Certainly you’re aware that nearly every man in that wretched city would give to –”

“I’m quite aware,” you interject, snapping in annoyance and shuddering at the thought of what he was insinuating.

“Careful,” your uncle warned, gaze darkening and growing serious once more, “Don’t take that tone with me, I could very well march you right to your mother; you’ll be lucky to be made a septa if she catches wind of this.”

Your jaws clench and you have to fight the urge to scoff, to roll your eyes. “Well, I don’t appreciate you speaking to me like I’m some idiotic child!”

“Oh, aren’t you?” He huffs, taking a step closer to you, “Only an idiotic little fool would venture into King’s Landing in the dead of night to get up to Gods know what with Gods know who!”

“I told you!” You bite back, trying to keep your voice steady, “We would’ve been –”

The air feels as if it’s been sucked out of the room by the time you manage to shut yourself up, though it’s already much too late. Daemon’s head tilts to the side curiously, a sinister smirk on his lips once more, the second you squeeze your eyes shut and internally scold yourself for making such an error.

“We?”

“Aegon,” you admit after a tense moment, knowing there’s hardly any use in drawing it out further.

“Ah, Aegon,” he drawls, chuckling to himself as he nods, “Letting big brother take you on a tour of the city then?”

“Something like that,” your voice is little more than a whisper while you nervously bite at your lip, keeping your eyes downcast.

“My, my,” you can practically feel the smugness radiating off of him as he circles you, arms behind his back, “An unplucked little flower, galavanting around the city, and with a married man, no less.”

Again, you clench your jaw as anger builds within you, grinding your teeth together while you will yourself to just stay quiet. You can’t help but remember a story Aegon had told you once, years before. At the time, you thought it was nothing more than a rumor, just old family gossip compounded by the murmurings of smallfolk. Now, though, just the mere chance that there may be even a sliver of truth to it makes your blood run hot.

How dare he.

Daemon snickers again, the sound of it makes you clench your fists. “I do wonder what my dearest brother would think of that.”

“Yes, uncle, what would father think?” You snap before you can help yourself, lips set into a tight frown while you peer up at him.

“I said careful –”

“Because he’s heard all of that before, hasn’t he?” You try, heart skipping a beat when his eyes widen just slightly before quickly narrowing again.

“Watch yourself.”

“No!” You scoff, chest heaving with a righteous rage, “You’re no better than me, certainly no better than Aegon – doing the exact same thing to Rhaenyra! You’ve no right to lecture me in this –”

“I married her, that is the difference,” he says lowly, a harshness to his tone you’ve never heard before; he grips your shoulder with one hand, fingers digging almost painfully into your skin, “I made an honest woman of her, something your drunken cunt of a brother cannot ever do.”

“An honest woman,” you scoff, some part of your subconscious is begging you to shut up but you ignore it, “Honest enough to birth three strong boys, isn’t that right uncle?”

That’s the final nail in your proverbial coffin – echoing Aemond’s words from earlier in the evening, though you suppose you at least had the wherewithal to not ruin dinner.

“That’s it,” Daemon snaps, violet eyes burning with a fire that would rival that of the Dragonmont, “I really didn’t want to have to do this, princess.”

Your brows furrow for only a second and you’re silently planning an escape route as he presses against your shoulder, assuming that he’s making good on his threats to parade you before your parents. Your cheek is already pressing against the smooth, dark wooden surface of the desk before you register that he was never pushing you toward the door.

Flustered and disoriented, alarm bells ring in your head as you squirm against the hand on your back, pinning you down. Your eyes widen when you feel him tugging your skirts up, panic flooding through you when you realize what he’s doing.

“Uncle, please!” You plead, bracing your hands against the desk as you attempt to push yourself up to no avail, “I’m sorry, truly! I didn’t mean it!”

“Enough!” Daemon barks, pulling your skirts up over your backside and letting the fabric bunch in against the small of your back, “You need to be taught some manners, little brat.”

You hardly have time to take in another lungful of air before his hand is cracking down against your rear, making you yelp even as the pain of it is dulled by the thin fabric of your smallclothes. You fight against his hold all the while, grunting and squirming like a rabbit in a trap.

Unfortunately, he realizes after a moment that this particular method doesn’t seem to be quite enough. A little panicked yell is wrenched from your lips when you feel his fingers hook into the waist of your smallclothes, making an icy chill run down your spine for an altogether different reason than the threat of pain.

“Uncle Daemon, wait!” You beg, shoving an arm behind your back and attempting to bat away his hand, “Y-You can’t, you mustn’t!”

“Come now,” he scoffs, easily pushing your hand away, “It’s only a backside, sweet niece, you think I haven’t seen one before?”

“It’s not tha –”

“And you seemed more than prepared to let dearest Aegon see much more than that, hm?” He drawls, going to tug at the fabric once more.

“I wasn’t!” You try again, desperate to make him understand, “W-We couldn’t have done anything, anyway!”

“Couldn’t have done…?” He questions, brows furrowing as he finally wrenches your smallclothes over the curve of your rear, tugging them unceremoniously down until they hang at your knees. It’s only then that he sees the issue, unable to keep the smirk off of his face as he hears you whine softly against the desk.

This is what all that fuss was about? He thinks, eyes trailing over the bright red streaks, tacky on your inner thighs, until they settle on the blood soaked linens folded in the gusset of your underwear.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he sighs, the hand on your back rubbing up and down in a way that would be soothing in any other circumstance. “Now, what were you saying?” He asks casually, like he’s talking to you about the weather and like your arse isn’t out on display.

“Aegon… Aegon and I couldn’t have done anything anyway,” you try again, praying he’ll take mercy on you, “Because of, well…”

“Because of what? A little blood?”

You merely nod, flushing so badly that your cheeks tingle as blood rushes to them.

“Oh, you sweet little lamb,” he coos, suddenly bringing a hand down against your rear again, smirking when you yelp at the sting, “Do you think men care about getting their swords a little bloody?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer as he smacks you again, easily holding you down when you begin struggling once more. Again, his eyes trail over your slit, heart quickening in his chest while he admires the crimson against your skin. Rhaenyra has only let him have her like this a scant few times, the pains that come along with her monthly blood keeping her from arousal and though he has not given into his cravings, he would be a fool to deny them.

His jaw clenches as he grits his teeth, spanking you yet again, alternating between cheeks, before soothing the sting with gentle caresses and smirking when you shiver at the soft touch. You remind him of her, you always have, though he’s never voiced it. All youthful vigor, filled with an untamed confidence that only naivety can bring, and with a fiery temper to match – more like your half-sister than you knew.

Perhaps his desires could be managed in… other avenues.

He brings his hand down once more, relishing the way you squirm and cry, your delicate skin hot beneath his palm. His member stirs, pressing angrily against the ties of his trousers, when he notices a little rivulet of red running down your inner thigh.

“You know,” he starts, petting his hand over your back while you sob, tears leaking onto his desk, “Many men quite enjoy their women this way, sweet niece.”

He smirks when he hears your breath hitch, swears he can hear your heart fluttering like the wings of a little bird in the quiet chambers.

“Warm, open… slick,” he drawls, taking a second to squeeze at the soft skin at the back of your thigh, the very tip of his thumb just barely running through a little crimson drip. He brings his hand up, marvels at the dark droplet staining his finger for only a second, before flicking it away with his tongue.

You gasp, having been watching curiously from the corner of your eye as an altogether different kind of heat swarms your veins. You don’t fight his hold any longer, victim to his spell even as your mind wars with itself.

“I-It’s messy, though…” You try, your voice sounding unconvincing to your own ears; you swallow nervously when he chuckles.

“Mm, it’s not all that different from any other honeyed hole, sweet niece,” Daemon soothes, putting your worries at ease while he trails a hand over your inner thighs, licking his lips at the way your tacky skin feels against his fingers, “It can be messy, yes, but… some men prefer mess.”

Do you? You wonder, although you already know the answer, legs spreading unconsciously at his touches. A whine slips from your lips when he moves his hand back up, rubbing it over your still sore backside.

“Still stings?” He asks, one eyebrow raised. He tuts when you nod, soothing you gently, like the sting isn’t his fault, “Lucky for you, I know just the thing for it.”

“What…?” You question, brows furrowing as you attempt to push yourself up from the desk, only to be pushed back down against it – albeit a little gentler this time.

“You just relax,” he croons, all traces of the anger from before gone; the fires within him extinguished at the thought of finally getting what he’s missed for so long, “Let uncle kiss it better, hm?”

A shiver goes through you at his words and your breath catches in your throat, eyes wide as you feel him move around you, slinking from his place at your side to your back. Fabric rustles behind you and just as you open your mouth to ask what’s going on, a loud gasp tears itself from your throat.

Daemon kneels on the floor behind you, bent down on one knee, and leans in, pressing a gentle, feather light kiss against one cheek before alternating to the other. His hands grab at your hips, holding you in place, eyes trained on the side of your head drinking in the little flashes of emotion on your face – shock and uncertainty slowly giving way to a cautious curiosity. He could work with that.

“Feeling better?” He husks, smirking against your soft skin when he sees you nod, hears the little whimper halfway trapped in your throat. He carries on, pearlescent hair tickling the backs of your thighs each time he leans in, kissing your skin. Eventually, his touches begin to linger, hands rubbing over the sides of your thighs while his tongue licks against you every so often. The soft, patient touches soothe you, tamper your worry, and soon enough pleased little sighs and hums begin filling the room, music to his ears.

Quickly, he pulls at the ties of his trousers, groaning against the curve where your ass and thigh meet when his member springs free, bobbing against his lower belly. Wrapping a hand around himself, he continues – kissing and licking along the backs of your thighs before finally reaching what he most desires.

“U-Uncle!” You gasp, eyes squeezing shut when he licks into the crease of your thigh, the skin there no doubt smeared with the blood you can feel running down your legs every few moments, painting streaks of red down to your knees.

Your feeble little warble is drowned out by the deep, throaty growl that leaves him – a man dying of thirst finally finding an oasis in the desert. He nudges at your thigh, panting a low, “Good girl,” when you part them more – as much as your smallclothes, still bunched around your knees, will allow. His head spins thinking of how passionate you’ll become with more experience, already so eager.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, spitting into his palm and grunting while he works a hand over his cock, panting as he admires your flowering center for a moment – your little petals shining, crimson staining your skin nearly all the way down to your knees. He feels like a man possessed, drunk and proud as his cock twitches against his palm.

Another groan rumbles in his chest when he dives in, all thoughts of being gentle and slow thrown to the wayside as he presses his face against you, uncaring as to whether he can fill his lungs or not.

“Daemon!” You yelp, hands scrambling over the smooth surface of the desk, mind reeling while you try to find something, anything to hold onto. His tongue is unlike anything you’ve ever felt, eons better than the way your own fingers feel pressed against your cunt in the wee hours of the morning.

Your chest heaves when he groans against you, tongue toying with the stiff little bud at the apex of your slit for a second before he fucks it into you, all but punching whines and moans from your throat. Your cheeks flush at the sound of it, the slick, wet sounds of his tongue working against you almost painfully loud in the small study.

His hips rut into his hand as he suckles at your pearl, burying his nose into you while deep moans resound in his chest — head clouded at the taste of you, at the slick feel of your blood against his lips, on his tongue.

Gods, he’s missed this.

The fire in his belly builds steadily while he takes what he needs from you, the little throbs your cunt gives around his tongue only serving to push him further and further toward the end.

“Seven Hells, you taste divine,” he growls, rubbing his thumb over the head of his cock, his other hand tugging an arse cheek to the side, opening you more for him before skimming his fingers over your taut bud, smirking at the way your core clenches.

“Please, please,” you pant, hips canting against the edge of the desk, breath foggy against the dark wood.

“Don’t worry, sweetling,” he murmurs, licking your taste from his lips, “I’m not done with you yet.”

Your knees nearly buckle when he licks you again, laving his tongue over the entirety of you – lapping from your pearl almost all the way up to your other hole, the thought of such a thing stealing the air from your lungs. Your mind reels as he suckles at you, core aching from how tightly the knot in your tummy is wound.

Daemon growls against you, the rhythm of his hand stuttering the closer he gets, stones pulling tight as he nears his end. He can tell you’re close as well from the way you press back against him, rutting on his tongue while breathy little moans tumble, unbidden, from your lips.

The thought of your wet cunt clenching around his tongue causes his length to pulse again, causes it to leak against his fingers. Gods, he needs that.

“Ah!” You pant when he redoubles his efforts and presses his tongue as far into you as he can, groan rumbling against you as he nuzzles into your folds, savoring the sweet coppery taste on his tongue.

He feasts then, hand striping up and down his cock with abandon while he fucks his tongue into you, curling it and pressing it against as much of you as he can while his chin presses against your pearl, pulling loud cries from you.

“U-Uncle, uncle, I… Gods, Daemon, I’m…” you stutter, words dying on your lips as pleasure threatens to white out your mind. You pant, breathlessly rocking against his face while your body tenses, instinctively preparing for the incoming onslaught.

He grunts into you, fucking into his fist while his other hand squeezes at your arse. His eyes roll back in his head when he feels you tighten on his tongue, your walls finally beginning to suck at him in earnest. Just as his stones tighten to the point of no return, he smacks his hand against your rear once more, groaning victoriously as the dam finally breaks.

“Fuck!” You shout, muscles tensing and falling limp all in the same breath as your high slams into you, rough and unforgiving — heightened by your menstrual flux. You can hear Daemon grunting and growling behind you, your cunt pulsing on his tongue.

Below you, he feels as if he’s ascended to the clouds, stomach lurching like it does when Caraxes takes flight. He groans, long and loud, against you, into you, as his cock throbs, spend splashing down against his trousers, dripping to the floor.

“O-Oh!” You breathe, hips twitching as he licks over you for a moment more, taking all he can. Your little tired cries make him chuckle as his touches border on overstimulation. He finally takes mercy on you and pulls away with a satisfied sigh, tucking his member back into his trousers as he stands, grunting at the soreness of his knee.

There’s a heady fondness in his eyes as he lets them trail over you, watching as you catch your breath, limp. “Feel okay?” He asks, petting a hand down your spine before bending to press a sweet kiss against the back of your shoulder.

You nod, your cheek slick against the desk while you finally start coming back to yourself. “Gods,” you sigh tiredly, blinking the fog from your eyes.

Daemon chuckles at that, his normally mouthy niece reduced to little sighs. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and walks to a small mirror on the wall, well really an old, polished placard, but it’ll do.

His eyes widen when he catches sight of himself, features distorted somewhat in the reflective golden surface, but clear enough to see the blood left on his skin. A smirk grows on his lips and he lets himself admire it for a second, mind flashing back to the aftermath of his victory against the Crabfeeder, before he begins wiping at his skin.

From the corner of his eye, he sees you beginning to stir, arms shaking as you push yourself up from the desk. He stares at his reflection for a moment, jaw clenching as his heart pangs feebly.

With a sigh, he walks the few steps over to you and steadies you, pressing a hand to your back. “Careful,” he warns, playful glint in his eyes while he guides you to the spare chair against the wall and coaxes you to sit, not caring if the fabric gets stained, “You’ll give me a complex.”

Your lips quirk into a smile at that and you chuckle, eyes widening when you finally get a good look at him. “Ohh…” you balk, not expecting to see blood, your blood, trailing down his chin, painting him like a satiated lion, “I’m… I’m sorry…” You murmur, not knowing what else to say.

“Why?” He chuckles, affectionately carding his fingers through your hair as he blindly wipes at his face a little more, “Did you not enjoy it?”

“I did…” you admit softly, bashful before him now. Strength seems to find you again and you bend forward to pull up your smallclothes, only to stop yourself when Daemon leans down to do it himself.

“Then there’s no reason to be sorry,” he says with a sigh, pulling your smallclothes back into place and letting you adjust them to your fancy, “Blood can be wiped away, sweetling.”

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier too,” you murmur, wringing your hands while the two of you stand together. You watch as he busies himself with righting his clothes, making sure his trousers are tied well and smoothing out his tunic. You can’t help thinking that he looks handsome like this, finally seeing him how Rhaenyra might.

Nervously, you pull at your skirts, smoothing them out and fidgeting with your bodice. You look up when he clears his throat, surprised to be met with a smile.

“As I said,” he placed a hand on your shoulder, gentle this time, “Blood can be wiped away, sweet girl.”

thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)

check out the rest of the pieces in this collab here!

consider adding yourself to my tag list or check out my works on ao3!

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sarcasticsciencefictionwriter · 2 days

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In the vein of posts about commenting on AO3 and the comments on those about being fanfiction authors being needy and selfish, I'd like everyone to see this.

Every AO3 author has a statistics page, for those of you who don't know. We get to see everything related to our stories and, basically, how they're received.

It looks like this:

Here, we have the overall breakdown of one author (in this case, of 107 stories). You'll notice right away that the statistics are incredibly skewed.

2,349 kudos to 26,841 hits, 519 comment threads to 26,841 hits. Even factoring in multi-chapter stories and rereads (of one-shots or otherwise) these numbers do not even out.

We'll allow lack of popularity in certain fandoms, readers genuinely not liking a story, and those who left before finishing to be considered, but that still should not affect the numbers so vastly.

This is why comments are so important to authors.

We can see how many times our stories have been read overall; we can see how our writing is being treated as content that is expected to be there rather than art we put effort into for free.

I know not everyone has the energy or mentality to comment all the time and that's okay. Even just hitting the kudos button is great!

But treating reading fics as a hit-and-run does effect the authors.

We see that we put something out there and that it has been read over and over. But we also see that no one appreciated it or felt we were worthy of the time to leave appreciation.

It also effects us because people will sort stories and deem their 'worth' by kudos and comments and assume because they aren't there, the work is no good.

I hope seeing the numbers laid out makes people understand better.

If anyone reblogs this and is comfortable doing so, feel free to add a shot of your statistics so people can really see why there are so many posts about commenting on AO3.

#ao3 #support fic writers #commenting #reading fics #fic writing #ao3 writer #writers on tumblr #ao3 fanfic #ao3fic #fic #fanfiction #fanfic

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cyn-write · 1 day

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The Little Cecelia - Chapter 3: A Change in Tides

Summary - Every 100 years, the spirits of the Great Seven and their Rivals return. Sometimes, they attempt to right the wrongs of the past, get revenge, or relive the same story, but it all is the same - only one spirit gets their Happily Ever After. Azul has always been fascinated with the human world, which only intensified once he met a human girl, Grace Trien. He desires to become a Great Mage of both Land and Sea and to explore the human world and all its wonders with the Tweels and Grace by his side, but Prince Rielle is willing to do whatever it takes to stop the little Cecelia from getting his Happy Ending.

Chapter 3- After Seven years, a lot of things have changed. Azul has become the "Merchant of the Deep" and Grace has become a Lady of High Society, and their feelings have grown as well. Upon Grace's return, Azul is determined to confess his feelings but his plans change when Grace shares troubling news with the trio.

Prev - Master List

Pairing - Azul Ashengrotto x F!Oc (Grace Trein)

Tags/Warning - Pinning, Scheming, and Childhood Friends to Lovers!

Notes - After a long (unplanned) break, I've finally returned! Thank you everyone for your patience! This chapter took a long time to write but I hope you enjoy it as things start to heat up. Just an FYI: Grace Trein is based on my Oc Grace Wilde so if you want to learn more about her click the link, but you can replace her name when reading if you want to read it as Yuu or another name. This is only the third chapter of 11, so if you enjoy this and want to be tagged or have questions, please let me know! This is also on Ao3 if you want to follow it over there. Comments, likes, and Reblogs are appreciated!

Seven summers come and go like the shifting tides.

Azul spent his days and nights perfecting himself and his magic. He swore to become a powerful Mage and that he did. Every waking moment was spent studying every book in the grotto. From potions to spells, he had mastered his craft. In the midst of the magic books were books on business and trade which he poured over every night. In a few short summers, Azul had become a master merchant, selling potions and restored treasures.

The twins became Azul’s partners in crime and aided in growing his business. They helped him gather information and ingredients to use to his advantage. They found mermaids, mermen, and some truly desperate humans who had no one else to turn to and led them to his doors. In seven years, Azul had gone from being a whimpering no one to the mysterious and powerful “Merchant of the Deep.”

Despite his growing business, he still set aside time each night to talk to Grace. It was the part of his day he treasured most as he would put down his work and simply talk to the person he treasured most. Her voice would take him out of his business guise and remind him why he was doing all of this. She also became a business asset as she had a good understanding of finance and trade due to her schooling and training under her father. Azul often found himself running his plans by Grace and she would provide honest feedback or return the next day with information that would aid him.

Beyond business, the two would talk about anything under the sea. From books they read to random musings, these simple moments brought both out of their heads and let them just be. For a few moments they were not “The Merchant of the Deep” or “Lady Trein of High Society,” they could simply be Azul and Grace, two teens dreaming of a better future.

One conversation that would often lull them to sleep was the conversation of “what if…”

“I wish you could be here Azul,” Grace mused, “You would have loved it…”

“The more we talk the more I wish I was born human.” He would hum.

“Being human isn’t all its cracked up to be,” She would say, “If you’re born into the right station and gender, your fine. Honestly, I feel more like a bird than a person at times. All I’m supposed to do is sit pretty, speak when I’m spoken too… smile and nod as people talk about my worth... To be honest I wish I could have been born a mermaid, then I could swim away with you and the tweels.” She sounded like she was dreaming again, but they did that often.

“If you are born the right mer maybe… the sea is a dangerous place, and if you’re not the right kind of mer or swim into the wrong places… you could end up shark bait.” Azul had a dark tone to his voice, as much as he enjoyed picturing Grace as a Mer, he didn’t want her to face the monsters larking in the sea. “Besides, I think we can do better… We could run things. Create something that last centuries after we’re gone.”

“And what would that be? A potions business? Trade business?” Grace pondered, “I would love to create something, but sadly women of my status are not usually able to… We usually have to marry for wealth or diplomatic reasons and run our husband’s estate, birth heirs, and raise them to do the same… But I’m hoping to be different. Mama and Papa promised me when I was little that I would have a say in my hand and my future. They even promised that I would get the villa and part of the estate once he retires.”

“I hope so to…” Azul looked at the bracelet on his wrist and dream that the hand she would choose was his. “Do you ever wish you could just... run away from everything? Start somewhere new where no one knew who you were and could just…be?”

Grace was quiet for a moment. Azul thought he scared her away, but when she spoke again, it sent all three heart a flutter, “I would, if you would go with me.”

Ever since that conversation, Azul made it his mission to become human and be with her as more than a friend, but a partner.

Grace kept her promise and returned to the grotto each summer. The three short months she spent with them each year were filled with joy and fun. She showed them everything she learned at school and brought them a variety of land treasures (much to Floyd’s delight). She also taught them everything she could about life on land from human etiquette to fashion to food. By the time she left for her final year of schooling, the trio had a good grasp on the ins and outs of high land culture.

When the day came for Grace to finally return to the grotto, the three were anxious for her return for different reasons and Jade found it entertaining.

Floyd was impatiently waiting for Grace as he anticipated the gifts she promised to bring. How did he cope with the impatience and boredom? He messed with Azul who was a nervous wreck.

Azul was always a nervous wreck when Grace returned from boarding school, but this year it was amplified for a singular reason. Azul (after relentless Bullying from the Tweels) made a bet with the twins that was finally going to confess his feelings to Grace and present her with the human transformation potion he made. This “bet” amplified his nerves and the tweels found it entertaining to tease him about it.

By the time mid-day came around, Azul was pacing in the water and Floyd was trying to catch his tentacles as he passed. “Why isn’t she here yet?” Azul muttered, “She said she would be here by high noon. What if shes- AK! FLOYD!”

“hehehe~ I got Zuuul!” Floyd waved Azul’s captured tentacle around until Azul used that tentacle to slap him in the back of the head. “Owwie!”

“Azul you’re overthinking this, her Father is probably just keeping her.” Jade sat in the back corner of the cave re-reading one of the books Grace had given him years ago.

“I know. I know.” Azul muttered and returned to pacing, “But what if-“

“What if, What if, that’s all you’ve been saying for WEEKS.” Floyd dramatically flopped over Jade’s rock, “She’s a strong Shrimpy and any fish with eyes can see she’s liked you for YEARS!”

Jade nodded as he pushed his brother off his rock, “Besides, if you don’t tell her. We will. That’s the deal~”

Azul shook his head at the brothers’ antics. He knew they were right, but his hearts were still beating rapidly. Before Floyd could launch himself at Jade, the three heard the fast shifting of sand, shifting of fabric, and the signal whistle of their dear human.

Floyd shifted his launch towards the caves shore and bolted towards the entrance. Azul tried to calm his beating hearts as Grace entered the cave.

She certainly has grown over the years, but she has changed a lot over the last nine months. Her features had refined, her hair darkened to a golden hue, and her figure was no longer “boyish” (a term her brothers used to torment her) but full. She was even dressed differently from last summer. Instead of the flowing dresses and bows in her hair, she entered the cave in a structured summer dress, gloves, and woven sun hat.

“SHRIMPY!” Floyd launched himself onto the beach and into Grace’s outstretched arms.

“Floyd!” Grace kneeled so Floyd could give her his signature hug properly. “Oh, I’ve missed your squeezes!”

As she welcomed Floyd, Jade took his time crawling up the beach and was more gentlemanly in his greeting… until he pulled Floyd’s tail.

“Floyd, it’s rude to hog attention.” He reprimanded his brother with a teasing smile.

“Hey!” Floyd lost his balance and fell back, loosening his grip on Grace just in time for Jade to steal her.

“Ahh! Jade!” Grace laughed as she fell into his embrace. “I’ve missed you too!”

“Welcome Home, Grace,” Jade said, helping Grace steady herself as she stood up.

Azul never felt more self-conscious then when he made his way onto the shore to greet Grace. His arms felt weighted, his stomach felt bloated, he could feel all his imperfections highlighted on his body. The guppies in his stomach swam rapidly as she finally stood and looked his way. She set down her basket and walked over to Azul with arms open and bright smile.

Azul felt his lips turn up as he wrapped his arms around her and she returned his embrace, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” She gave him a quick squeeze before stepping back, hands in his. Her bright eyes scanned his figure and she looked at him in awe, “You’ve certainly changed though! Look at you!” She smiled so brightly. “You look wonderful, Azul, truly you hard work has paid off!”

Azul felt the guppies settle and his cheeks warm, “You’ve changed a lot yourself. This is certainly a new look.”

“Thank you,” Grace smiled. He lifted a hand for her to spin and she did with a laugh, “Ever since my birthday, Father has insisted I dress ‘properly.’ Honestly, I never thought I would say this but father has been exhausting.” She shook her head. “Actually, that’s why I’m late.”

Azul’s worry resurfaced and he squeezed her hand still in his. “What’s going on?”

“It’s a long story,” Grace’s smile returned, and she said, “We should get settled first before I get into that mess. Why don’t I give you your gifts first before Floyd tares my basket?”

“Too late,” Azul nodded over to Floyd and Jade already shuffling through her discarded basket. Her blanket, snacks, and some books were already spread around them with Jade placing the objects to the side before Floyd threw them in his search for the gifts.

Grace just shook her head at the two and chuckled, “What am I going to do with you two?”

Floyd’s head shot up from his search and said, “Hand over the shinnies!”

Azul let himself genuinely laugh for the first time in what felt like years. He followed Grace as she spread out her picnic blanket and settled on it. Floyd had all of her attention as she reached into her skirt pockets and brought out three wrapped items. “I guess, I guess.” Floyd reached for them but Grace quickly moved them out of reach. “Na-ah-ah! Patience Floyd! You’d think you would’ve learned after last year!”

“How many times do I have say sorry!” Floyd whined as Jade held his brother back.

“Once more as always.” Jade gave Floyd the stink eye. Last year Grace got Jade a terrarium with small figurines of woodland creatures and Floyd ended up breaking it in his search for his gift. She got Jade another and Floyd felt terrible, but Jade still holds it over his head whenever he can.

Grace handed the objects to them one at a time starting with Jade. She gave him a small jar shaped object which he delicately unwrapped to Floyd’s dismay, “There was a small shop in town that finds these, I described your fascinations to him and the shopkeep assured me you would like this!” Inside the package was a clear glass jar terrarium with rotting wood inside dotted with small white umbrellas, “He said since they are already growing, as long as you keep them in dark, moist places they should keep growing.”

Jade’s eyes sparkled as he looked at the jar. He looked like a child given a seabunny during Winterfest. He gingerly placed the jar down before giving Grace a hug. “Thank you.” He said softly, letting a few happy trills slip through. “It’s perfect.”

“Ya, ya, you got plants gimmie mine!!” Floyd pouted and his tail twitched in annoyance. Grace giggled at his childlike annoyance.

“Alright, hold your horses,” Grace said as she picked up a small rectangular object. The moment it grazed Floyd’s skin, he snatched it and shredded the wrapping paper. “I saw this in a traveling shop and had to get it for you!” The rectangular object was a case and inside the case was a small instrument, “It’s called a harmonica! You blow into this side and it makes music!”

Floyd picked up the instrument and smiled wide, “A LAND SNARFLUCS!” He put it to his lips and blew a few notes, rolling his tail in glee. After sliding it across his lip a few times, Floyd put the harmonica down and wrapped Grace in a big squeeze. “THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU! Mom never let me keep these!”

“Ya. Thanks a lot.” Azul sighed knowing he will never know peace again.

“Don’t worry, I got you and Jade earplugs too.” Grace said, patting Floyds back as she returned the squeeze.

Once Floyd let Grace go so he could admire his new shiny, she finally turned to Azul. Azul way always the last to receive his gift, and he was fine with it. He liked to think it was because she was saving the best for last. Grace took out a slim case and handed it to him.

“I know you don’t need these, but when I saw them I couldn’t help but think of you.” Grace said as Azul took the wrapped case. He unwrapped it and felt the smooth leather of the case on his fingers, tracing the Bell logo imprinted lid. When he opened the case and saw a pair of round spectacles. The golden frames were decorated simply with a white chain connecting the two ends so the seer my put them down for a moment without losing them. They were a simple, sleek, ordinary pair of frames, but the fact that she thought of him when she saw them made his hearts beat faster.

“Go ahead, put them on! I want to see how you look!” Grace said as she reached into her pocket for her hand mirror.

Azul did as she asked and put on the spectacles. There were clear lenses so he could see his image in the mirror clearly. He looked… older, more sophisticated, like the merchants in stories. It felt odd to look at the reflection, his reflection. The person staring back looked like him, but with confidence and charm.

He looked up to ask her thoughts and Grace was blushing. Her mouth was slightly ajar and she was flush. When their eyes met, she held his gaze. That is one thing Azul always admired, she always looked him in the eyes.

“S-see. I knew they would look good on you,” She said softly as she put the mirror away.

Azul smirked at her remark, “You’ve always had impeccable taste.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Grace chuckled and shook her head, “that’s a rare opinion according to my brothers and their wives. They’ve criticized my every move since I’ve returned.”

“Speaking of, why don’t we return to the subject of your tardiness?” Azul said, settling beside Grace, spectacles still on. “What happened?”

She sighed and picked at her gloves, removing them as she spoke, “The short explanation is… a lot happened while I was gone leading to father pushing my debut.” Azul felt his hearts stop. Her Debut? Doesn’t that mean… no. Grace continued as she picked at her dress. “The Long of it is… complicated.”

Azul’s tentacle moved its way to her mid-back and his hand covered hers, “I can take complicated.”

Grace sighed and the tweels turned their attentions away from their gifts as she spoke. “While I was at school, apparently my brothers and their wives decided to squander their portion of the family fortune and their dowries. Against my advisement, Father has housebound them and limited their spending ability, but by that point they had already made a sizable dent in the coffers. He doesn’t want to strain our people more than he has to so Father has turned to other methods of regaining funds.” She squeezed Azul’s hand for reassurance as she continued, “He is holding my debut ball the Friday. The invitations were sent out already, and this morning while I was getting my gown tailored, Father gave me the rundown of the ‘most suitable candidates’ attending. Apparently, I must choose a husband at this ball or else.” She laced her fingers through his, holding it close as tears threatened her eyes, “When I reminded him of the promise, he said I did have a choice, but it must be made by the end of the ball or else its moot…” She started shaking.

There was a thick silence between the four. Azul’s tentacle wrapped around her midsection in a comforting hug. “So, you’ll be engaged by Saturday?”

She placed her free hand on top of the tentacle and rubbed her thumb along his skin, “According to father I should be… but it is still my choice. A-and who knows, I could meet the one. A plethora of fairytale romances happen that way…” She looked him in the eyes as she said this. She was looking for reassurance, to convince herself that everything will be okay. “Maybe… my Prince Charming will come sweep me off my feet.”

That’s when it hit him. A plan. A glorious, beautiful plan. His tentacles slithered as it formed and Grace caught on to him.

“What?” She asked, “I know that twinkle in your eye, you’re scheming.”

“I certainly am,” Azul ran the rudimentary plan in his mind and there were some kinks, but it should work. “It’s risky, but it just might work.”

“Ooooo! This is gonna be fun,” Floyd said chuckling.

“Mind sharing?” Jade asked slithering to the water.

Azul’s tentacle’s started drawing out a plan in the sand, “Your Father said you just had to chose a suitor correct? He never said it had to be from his list, correct?”

“Technically, yes. Where are you going with this?” Grace asked, curiosity twinkling in her eyes.

“Well, if you already had a suitor with wealth. You could hold off your father for a while until you decide to marry.” Azul offered up.

“That would be wonderful, except father would want to meet the mysterious suitor and know why it is being delayed.” Grace said.

Azul had to take a deep breath before he said the next part, “Didn’t you say you wanted us to meet him one day?”

“You mean-”

“Around 11 o’clock on the night of the party. You will introduce your father to me as your…Chosen Fiancé. I have enough gold and treasure to appease him for a long time. The excuse will be we are waiting till I finish a human transformation potion so I can be with you on land. If your father is the man you say he is, then that should hold him for at least a season. Enough time for you to truly chose someone to marry.” He took both her hands in his and squeezed them, “As I said, its risky, but it just might work. But I won’t do anything without your approval.”

Grace returned the squeeze and looked at him with those lovely green eyes, “Are you sure? This could put you and the tweels in so much danger. And I-”

“I-we care about you and your happiness. There is no need to worry about us. We can handle the danger.” Azul’s tentacle came up and caressed her cheek, “You mean the world to us, and we will do anything for your happiness.” Azul felt his face heat up and he turned away to look at the tweels smirking at him, “isn’t that right?”

Thankfully, the tweels played along. “Ya! We’d do anything for our shrimpy!”

“We are happy to help a dear friend~”

Grace looked at the tweels then turned back to Azul, “Promise me you’ll keep me in the loop, and stay safe?”

Azul nodded, “I promise.”

She sighed and a sly smile grew on her face, “Well then, I guess we should flesh out this plan then, shouldn’t we?”

The rest of the evening, Grace, Azul, Jade, and Floyd developed the plan down to the minute. Every move was plotted out and obstacles considered. By the time the sun touched the sea, they had a foolproof plan prepared for the ball.

After Grace left, Jade approached Azul whispered, “What are you truly planning Azul? I’ve never seen you make a one-sided deal like this before.”

“Oh, that’s where your wrong, Jade.” Azul smirked as one tentacle brought up a golden glowing potion to his eyes, “Once this deal is done, not only will I have won our bet, but I will have everything I’ve ever wanted in my grasp.” He turned to Floyd trying out his harmonica, “Floyd, I think its time we pay Sam a visit. I’m going to need a suit for Friday’s ball.”

“Hehehe, I knew this was gonna be fun~” Floyd’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

“It certainly will,” Azul peaked around the cave and gazed at the manor lights. There his dearest pearl was having dinner with her family, unbeknownst to her that her Prince Charming would sweep her off her feet at the ball, and right into his tentacles.

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

Tag List: @twistedcece @thisisafish123 @coffee-or-hot-cocoa

Note: Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing more or want to get tagged, please let me know! Comments, likes, and Reblogs are appreciated! (Do not Steal)

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meownotgood · 4 months

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it felt amazing to finally see that green checkmark on ao3, to finally move the full fic to my finished folders on docs, to finally say with my whole chest that it's really completed...

I'm proud of myself and what I managed to make, I'd been working on this fic for over a year, and I felt a lot of doubts while writing. I didn't expect to write so much. I often thought I was saying too much, or the fic wasn't good enough. when I reread it, I realized it wasn't perfect, but it doesn't have to be. I wrote something that was so unabashedly me, and I'm so grateful for that feeling. I'm so happy that I can write what I enjoy, that I can be myself while doing what I have always loved the most. I learned and progressed, and I can feel only excitement for whatever I write next!!

thank you for your patience, and if you end up reading, thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart 💞

I took off work tomorrow to celebrate lol (actually because I'm still sick but we're calling it a celebration). I don't know what to say next so here's some cute pictures of aki. three cheers for fic completion 🎉🎉🎉

#it's weird because #I thought after finishing this #I'd want to not write again for a very long time #but I just want to write even more tomorrow lol #insanity is real yall don't get the topknot virus #I appreciate everyone who has stuck with me!#comments and reblogs and kudos on ao3 are always appreciated but don't feel pressured #fanfic seriously changed my life for the better #at the time I picked up writing again I was in a very lost state #but since then I've been happier and happier #I've grown my writing but also grown as a person #I want to improve my writing while continuing to make the silly things I enjoy #don't know what I'm saying anymore #tomorrow I'll celebrate by eating a strawberry cake I baked with my mum #and I will give all the akis a bite too 💪💪💪💪

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rahabs · 9 days

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Things Done and Damaged [ read on A03 ]

"What did you do?"

Following the battle, Lucifer heals Alastor's wounds. He has no way of knowing this Charlie-induced act of benevolence will have unintended consequences for them both.

#radioapple #appleradio #Lucifer Morningstar #Alastor #Hazbin Hotel Alastor #Hazbin Hotel Lucifer #Hazbin Hotel #otp: our love is a scar; isn't bite also touch?#my fics #I am begging and praying that this shows up in the tags #Anyway! Hello! I did end up writing a sequel to This Horror Which Bleeds upon popular request #This one is a multi-chapter and I really hope people like it #Because it's part of the series I reused two images from the last moodboard; forgive me #Also if you like this fic I would very much appreciate a reblog or an AO3 comment!#Or both #Both would be spectacular :D #Anyway welcome to my 'accidental bond' AU

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sotvtaughtmehowtofeel · 2 months

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genuine question for readers commenting on ao3!!

What do you hope the author will reply to your comment with?

I always feel so awkward replying bc it's like "🧍🏼‍♀️thanks so much for reading" but thats a nothing response 😭 I would love some guidance bc I SO appreciate comments (esp comments talking about the fic specifically) and I've seen people say they've stopped commenting bc the authors never reply 😔 but I never know how to respond without sounding awkward or obnoxious.

So please tell me: what kind of interaction are you hoping for? Do you want to have a conversation with the writer? What do you hope for in a reply?

#genuinely i have so much anxiety about this #i want to reply to every comment bc i APPRECIATE YOU SO MUCH #but i feel sooo unbelievably awkward about it #ao3 #fanfic #please reblog I would love to see a discussion on this

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books-and-dragons · 2 months

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interesting to me that when ao3 goes down it's always 'number one trending topic', 'thousands of people talking about missing reading fics', and all sorts of other fanfic withdrawal symptoms, generally just feeling, and being impacted by, the Absence of Fanfic

but it's never 'leaves a comment on fanfic', 'gives kudos and recommends to friends', 'follows author/interacts with them in any way shape or form and otherwise lets them know how much you value their writing and fanfiction in general'

#books talks #okay to reblog #every time ao3 goes down it's this again #and look i too always have big fanfic withdrawal that isn't the issue!#over the years fanfic definitely gets less appreciation and thanks than it used to #which can in turn affect author productivity and want for engaging in fandom #fanfic and fanart are both ways for fans to reach out to other fans for connection #so connect!#i think this phenomenon of 'wanting fan content but not engaging with fic/art/etc' is part of a bigger issue of consumerism in fandoms #specifically this being on the rise #but those are bigger conversations #and as fascinating as this topic is i am rambling #ANYHOW #once ao3 is back online go leave a comment on the fic you were just reading! or the one you'd been about to read!#make a fic rec list for your followers to check out once the archive is back online #go check out and reblog some fanart in the meantime!#ao3

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anamelessfool · 1 year

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Reciprocity

Terzo/Omega One shot (2.6K words)

AO3 Link (18+ MDNI) Dedicated to @kabukiaku

Terzo and Omega spend a tender afternoon together.

Nothing bad ever happens to them ever again.

Tags (Full List on AO3): Artistic Model, Tenderness, Body Worship, Cardiophilia

Excerpt (All my NSFW Fics live on AO3)

“Have you ever got your portrait taken before, Omega?” Terzo was fiddling with one of his smaller cameras, inspecting the mirrors inside. He looked up at Omega and closed the case with a snap, his eyes gleaming. “Would you want to?”

Anamelessfool Fic Masterlist

💗Thanks in general for all the amazing feedback, hearts, kudos and friendship. Gentle reminder that MDNI thanks friends

Also I wrote this all with my thumbs I hope the guy on the plane sitting next to me enjoyed reading it

#terzomega #terzo/omegafic #ghost fandom #ghost band fic #ao3 author #ghost scenes from the void #the band ghost #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #ghost band #ao3 link #papa emertius iii #omega ghoul #omega x terzo #likes comments reblogs appreciated always

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koumeowkami · 20 days

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🪐 no celestial ; kanallen

— chapter seven

"Kanata was a poor little angel that heaven couldn't help. He'd always been a tough one, not trusting anyone but his little brother Nayuta, the only person that ever made him feel love. Growing up by themselves, he did everything in his power to protect his sick brother, things that dirtied his holy hands. "It's for a good cause though", he thought. But it wasn't enough, and Nayuta died soon after.

Kanata's soul was completely spent. He became unable to feel love, and adding to his dirty dealings that soon were found out, he got cast out of heaven. Fallen on Earth with his wings blackened, he felt so lost and empty he thought he could've just died.

But a random encounter with a very annoying, persistent, stupid redhead human boy would've made him discover love again."

2889 words

genre: supernatural, hurt/comfort, angst

warnings: none

previous ✧ next

Allen stood there, his jaw dropped. Before them, the smoke slowly dissipated, revealing two figures, both with black horns, bat wings and a pointed tail.

Demons.

The boy felt lightheaded for a moment, trying to take everything in. If angels were real, of course demons were as well. But when he looked over to where Kanata was standing, the other looked pretty much at ease, his face impassible. Weren't they supposed to be enemies? Why did the angel know them already and even looked close?

"Hey there, Kanata! Ya seem to be makin' human friends!" one of the demons, who wore traditional clothing and was adorned in a bunch of golden accessories, teased him as if he was talking to an old friend of his. He strode across the room, the sound of his geta echoing, followed by his muscular companion. He stopped right in front of Kanata. The white haired boy's expression shifted to a visibly annoyed one, arms crossed, muttering a small "we ain't friends" that only made the man grin.

"Ah excuse me kiddo... we haven't introduced ourselves yet" he turned to Allen with a smile, "I'm Iori Suiseki 'n I lead one of the demonic clans in Hell. This buff guy behind me is Zen" he pointed to the tall man, who despite the huge appearance had soft eyes.

"Kanata-kun!! You look like you've gotten a lot better, I'm glad!" Zen walked straight to the angel's face, being all cheerful with him.

"Don't be so close... ugh, you're so damn noisy" Kanata grimaced, taking a step behind, "Ignore 'em, Suzaku. So, why are you here?"

"Everybody in Hell and Heaven heard all that noise ya made earlier, y'know?"

Iori turned back to Kanata, looking at him straight in the eye. His face was unreadable, but Allen could feel that there was something more implied behind those words. The well masked worry of the man made Allen listen intently, being himself on edge after seeing what happened to the angel.

Kanata just tsked, his eyes empty.

"So what? I don't remember y'all being my caregivers or somethin' like that. There's nothin' else we need to tell each other anymore."

Anymore? Allen wondered if something else had happened prior to Kanata falling. Why did he have business with demons? Was that the reason why he fell? He wanted to know more of him so badly, but he knew having to wait for the boy to say something was probably for the best.

"Aw, why are ya bein' so detached with us, now? Is the fact we wanna help you a bit that bad?" The demon said over-dramatically, pretending to sob, "Ya see, you and us... we ain't that different."

Zen got once again close to Iori, whispering in his ear if that was "the right moment to tell him" ; the man just looked at him back. Thankfully, Kanata didn't hear that, but nonetheless his patience started wearing thin by each second that passed.

"... Are you tryna hide somethin' from me, Suiseki-san?" the boy spat, looking into him. No matter how polite he had to be with that man, he couldn't hide the urgency in his tone.

"Not at all. I'm here to tell ya everythin' you gotta know, in fact."

"Hah?"

"Kanata, you don't know who your father is, am I right?"

"I don't... but what has that to do with–"

"I always gotta keep track of the people who work for me, so I made sure to do some research on ya..." Iori interrupted Kanata, still smiling even though his eyes weren't, "I always knew ya were a special kid, y'know?"

"... What does this mean?!" Kanata's eyes started to waver, as he couldn't bear to look at the man in the eyes anymore. His gaze shifted, and Allen felt the angel's eyes on him for a second, probably in search of something that could calm him down.

"Kanata, you and your brother were born from an angel... and a demon."

Half angel, half demon. Kanata looked down, his heart hammering in his chest. Suddenly everything made sense: Nayuta and him receiving the snake earrings when they were children, them being isolated from the other angels because they were scared of the twins' aura, their shitty mother wanting to get rid of them and calling them a mistake... all of it was because of their father. He felt dizzy.

"This... this can't be..." he uttered in a shaky tone, keeping his head low.

"Oh really? I'm sure you've always believed it, deeply in your heart."

Tsk. That damn demon was right. The beauty of temptation had been plaguing his mind since long ago, staining his heart more and more. The purity of angels had always been a dream to him. When he looked at Suiseki again, he understood the similarity: his gelid gaze was as wild as the demons' fiery one, no room for innocence.

"Now, your angel-demon nature makes things hard for ya." the demon started, his expression serious but soft, "You've fallen, so your demonic powers are finally surfacin'..."

"My... demonic powers?"

"That's right. You've always had them, but your angel side made sure to suppress them..." Muscles intervened, worry evident in his tone, "Now that you're a fallen angel, they're coming back to you in an enhanced form."

"So... that outburst of energy that happened earlier was..."

"Demonic power takin' over ya, yeah. If ya don't learn to keep your feelings at bay and control it... you might cause a real mess."

"And at that point, guards will bring you to Hell."

Head in hands, Kanata tried to digest all the things the demons were telling him. Hell, he didn't even know he had powers, let alone destructive ones. Although he didn't mind being associated with that other reality, as he felt close to it more than he had ever felt with Heaven's side, he didn't want to go to Hell, nor he wanted to harm anyone. No more of that. He had already caused so much pain in the past. His initial thoughts about dying were surfacing again, thinking that maybe he really did deserve to disappear, after all. All of this happening to him was only further proof of the curse he was bearing.

"I'm not gonna let that happen to you!!"

Kanata and the demons turned to the redhead, who hadn't said anything until that very moment. The boy looked as devastated as someone who had received the news of a parent passing away, and Kanata's heart hurt at that sight. Oh, how much he hated to be pitied. Angry tears prickled his eyes, but he managed to fight them for now.

"Oh boy, your human friend looks like he doesn't want ya to go at all~" Suiseki was teasing him again, trying to lighten up the mood a bit.

The other boy immediately panicked, having spoken out of place accidentally, "Uh... I'm sorry to interrupt you. But yes, I... I wouldn't want anything to happen to him, ever." he composed himself again, speaking firmly.

"God... shut up." Kanata murmured in a pout, but apparently everyone else still heard him, considering how amused Suiseki looked. The demon hummed happily, enjoying Kanata's slightly distressed expression.

What was so funny about it?

Suiseki turned to Suzaku again and got closer, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder, "I'll make sure nothin' ever happens to him." he reassured the redhead.

"... Hah? Wouldn't I be more useful to you if I were in Hell?"

"Ya ain't wrong, but I know it's not what ya want. You've suffered enough."

While Kanata furrowed his brows in confusion, asking himself what he did to receive such kindness from a stupid demon, Suiseki snapped his fingers, summoning three other figures: one was tall, with curly green hair and kind eyes; another one had orange hair and the demeanor of a little delinquent; the shortest one had pink hair and looked particularly annoying. They all wore tattoos and golden jewelry that stood out in contrast to the dark appearance of demons, exactly like Suiseki. Kanata thought they were also part of his clan, even though he never saw them back when he used to do jobs for the demon.

"Here they are! Hokusai, Satsuki and Reo are gonna watch over ya and teach ya a thing or two on how to control your powers." the leader proudly pointed at each one of them in the order in which they appeared.

"Ugh, that's booooring~ I don't like staying here on Earth!" the pink haired boy, Reo, whined so loudly he immediately got on Kanata's nerves. No one seemed to mind his tantrum though, being probably used to it.

"Shaddup, you brat! We gotta follow Aniki's orders!" the orange bastard, Satsuki, started arguing with the pink gremlin going on a rampage about values and helping people in need, the other guy seemingly uninterested in it. Again, no one questioned their behavior.

"Stop fighting... helping this boy is important, remember?" the gentle giant, Hokusai, spoke in a voice so low it was barely audible, and yet his tender smile was enough to make his younger companions stop. Kanata even doubted that could be classified as an "evil being".

The redhead, who had been standing close to Kanata the whole time, turned to him. "Are these... really demons?" he asked, confusion laced in his voice.

"Considerin' how noisy they are... yeah." the angel facepalmed at the chaotic sight in front of him, not sure if that was really a gift from Suiseki, or only something that could've made him go insane sooner. Suzaku giggled at that response.

"Oi! We're here for ya, y'know? You could be a bit more grateful!!" Satsuki stomped towards them, pointing at Kanata with his best intimidating expression. Kanata wasn't impressed.

"I don't need any of y'all annoyin' ass demons." he replied flatly, distancing himself from the orange haired guy. He could hear the other's overly exaggerated "HAAAH?!" behind him but he ignored it.

"Come on, Kanata-kun... I promise they'll get better." Muscles readily reassured him, noticing how frustrated the angel looked, being surrounded by so many people all at once. Suiseki joined in the conversation too, wrapping his arm around Kanata's shoulder. "I'm sure all of you guys will become friends in no time!" he flashed the boy a smile, even though the latter wasn't really sure about it, nor he was enthusiastic about spending time with them. If anything, the mere thought of it gave him a headache.

"I'm counting on ya, alright?" the demon turned to his little brothers, who gave a firm nod.

"Yeah, Aniki! Leave it to us!"

And with that, Suiseki and Muscles disappeared in a black smoke.

The demon trio approached the other boys again, their aura incredibly strong. They looked friendly, too friendly for Kanata's taste. Was he only able to attract annoying people he wanted nothing to do with?

"Mm... we're also going, now." Gentle Giant spoke first, smiling kindly at him and Suzaku, "We live not too far from here."

Orange Bastard got again too close for comfort, a confident smirk on his face. "Yeah! Just call us whenever ya need help and we'll rush to ya!"

"I said I don't– ...whatever." Kanata sighed in defeat, making the redhead giggle silently once more. This time though, the angel turned to him with threatening eyes, his cue for the other guy to quit laughing, or else.

The last one to speak was Pink Gremlin, waving his hand, "We'll talk a lot more next time! See you~"

The room fell silent after their disappearance. Kanata finally breathed out as tension left his body, so damn exhausted after all he went through in just a day. He felt weird about that entire situation, about Suzaku standing up for him despite having learned how dangerous he was, how much of a monster was. Glancing at the boy, he looked as shaken as Kanata was, but his eyes were shining with determination. He was really not going to give up anytime soon, huh.

"I'm gonna lay down for a bit. My head hurts." he simply said emotionlessly. The redhead looked at him, eyes softening sympathetically.

"I'm gonna heat some food up so we can eat later, okay?"

The boy was met with no reply as Kanata just disappeared in his room. Sinking in the messy red sheets, he closed his eyes and tried to rest, but his thoughts just couldn't leave him alone for not even a moment. He thought about his conversation with Suiseki, how he helped him without asking for a repayment, how he even sent his own little brothers to help the poor angel in distress. Being cared for, unconditionally... it was something Kanata had experienced only with Nayuta, his one and only family. No protection ever received from the woman he could hardly call a "mother"; if anything, she was the very person who had thrown them to the snakes.

His mind wandered again, remembering Suiseki calling him and Suzaku "friends". Was that how they really looked like? He thought it was pretty much clear that he couldn't stand the redhead's ass, although... maybe something between them was a bit different now, as if some chemical effect was slowly taking place. Heat rose up to his cheeks, as he grumbled to himself while hugging his pillow in a pout.

Dinner time came and went, still no trace of Pink Hair and Mushroom-head returning. The two boys sat on their bed, their backs pressed against the headboard, enjoying for once a comfortable silence.

It didn't last long, as the angel felt the boy beside him shifting a little bit so he could look at him.

"Kanata... are you okay?"

Kanata hummed, hugging his knees. It was time. He couldn't keep this secret, this burden in his heart any longer. He then took a deep breath, turning to the redhead.

"... You've heard it from Suiseki-san, right? That I used to have a twin brother called Nayuta."

"Used to...?"

"He was sick and died some time ago."

The other shivered visibly, looking down. The angel saw him listening intently, not uttering a single word. He continued.

"It's my fault, all of it. It's cause I'm an abomination. I was a horrible brother, a horrible son... and I couldn't even keep my promise to find a cure for him, despite working hard for Suiseki-san."

Kanata dug his nails into the uncovered flesh of his legs, leaving slight marks behind. Suzaku rushed to stop him from hurting himself any longer, grabbing his wrists. Their hands touched for a mere second, the redhead's slender fingers wrapping around the angel's calloused ones.

"You're not an abomination." the guy started, his eyes wavering, "I'm sure you did your best for your brother... he's proud of you."

Kanata laughed bitterly, staring at his feet as he shook his head, speaking more and more frantically.

"That's bullshit. It wasn't enough. I should've worked harder for him... I should've been a good boy like him... I should've died, after all–"

"Stop! Stop saying that!"

The redhead yelled and hugged him, on the verge of tears. He sobbed quietly, hiding his face in the crook of the angel's neck. The latter was completely taken off guard, stilling in the other boy's embrace. He's never been this close to another human being before and he didn't know what to do, but he felt oddly comfortable: his body immediately reacted, warmth spreading everywhere.

"... W-why are you cryin' for me?" Kanata stuttered, trying his best to not sound affected by the weird feeling in his stomach, "I'm a monster. There's somethin' inside of me that is deadly... why don't you get I could kill ya?"

Suzaku sniffled like a kid, raising his head so he could look at the angel in the eyes, "You won't, I'm sure of it. Look, you're worrying about me now..."

"I'm not– ugh, nevermind... get yourself off of me right now."

Kanata pushed against Suzaku's chest a bit as the latter broke the hug, wiping some tears that had spilled away, blushing just slightly. The white haired boy gave him an impassibile look.

"Look at ya, cryin' like a baby... you're pathetic."

"You're also crying, though..."

The redhead pointed at Kanata's face, a single tear falling down. His eyes widened when he felt his hand slightly wet after touching his own cheek. His emotions were all over the place now, spilling out more and more as the other guy kept on breaking the cage that contained his heart. That was the first time he was letting himself be vulnerable.

After the guy went back to his side of the bed, he gave one last glance to the angel, looking dead serious. "Kanata... I'm not going anywhere."

"Mm?"

"I won't leave you alone, no matter what. I'll do my best to make you happy."

"Shut up, I'm gonna vomit."

Kanata immediately laid down to sleep, hiding his face from the redhead, who was laughing softly. What the hell was wrong with him, saying that sorta cheesy stuff out of the blue? As he kept mentally cursing the other guy, he didn't realize he was blushing again, feeling once more that something in his stomach that was both weird and incredibly pleasing.

It felt so good, he wanted to drown in it.

#🪐; no celestial #paradox live #paralive #paradox live fanfiction #kanallen #allenkana #allen sugasano #kanata yatonokami #sorry for being late ... new chapter finally up on tumblr too !#in case someone hasn't read it yet i hope you like it :3 #asks comments and reblogs are appreciated 💜 pretty please support me on ao3 as well (user is czmz_knt)

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lilac-hecox · 3 months

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Title: Under My Skin

Pairing: Ian/Anthony - Ianthony

Rating: Spicy/PWP

Summary:

Anthony pulls his mouth away and looks at Ian. The lack of contact makes Ian moan miserably, but he focuses on how delectable Anthony looks with his curls in his face, his mouth perfect and red. Anthony kisses the backs of Ian’s thighs and hums.

“Is that an order?”

“Yes!” Ian grits out, wiggling in Anthony’s hold, “I want to feel you.”

Warnings: Power bottom!Ian, topping from the bottom, light dom/sub themes, Anthony has a praise kink, fluffy spicy

Notes: A commission from the always wonderful @punk-gremlin who asked for a sequel to their previous commission Pierced Through the Heart thank you so much for the support Jace! I hope you love it!

*Also note my commission are in fact open if you're ever interested!

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theriacballad · 3 months

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Hey!!

I just posted my first Jekyll and Hyde oneshot called Heavenly. It's a test run for when I write the series version of the AU I'm working on, but follows some aspects of it. Go read it and be sure to let me know what you think!! Thank you <3

#jekyll and hyde #the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde #henry jekyll #dr jekyll and mr hyde #dr jekyll #edward hyde #mr hyde #gabriel utterson #gabriel john utterson #meowing on the microphone #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #fanfic #fanfic writing #archive of our own #you can either reblog this post with your thoughts in the tags #or you can comment on the piece itself!!#love you guys I appreciate you all :]

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errorryx · 1 year

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incendiary

read on ao3 | dsmp, tntduo, 2k words

after the wine stream, i wanted to write up a tntduo ending fic that would resolve the obvious homoerotic tension without feeling too out of character. after a few days of agonizing over the details, here it is!

—

The first thing Wilbur noticed about Quackity was that he was wearing red.

Dark red, specifically. It reminded Wilbur of his own burgundy coat, which in turn reminded him of how Quackity was still in his shadow, right down to the dramatic costume changes. (Whether or not Quackity wore it better was besides the point.)

The second thing he noticed was that Quackity’s hair had grown. It was as wild as ever, but now it reached his shoulders, and Wilbur wished he didn’t find it quite so striking. Especially paired with that stormy expression, and the way it blew in the wind as Quackity approached.

Wilbur had been searching for an opening remark on the way here, something like, fancy meeting you here, or perhaps more in the direction of glad to see you’re still alive. Nothing seemed to fit, and Tommy had only laughed at him for trying. “Hello, Quackity,” he said, attempting to sound calm and unbothered.

“Wilbur.” The fury in Quackity’s eyes could have started a fire. Wilbur hoped he’d still be the target when it ignited. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? Don’t you know—” His eyes darted around the immediate area in a display of suspicion that was far from unwarranted, but it still rubbed Wilbur the wrong way. “You can’t be here.”

It dawned on him that Quackity’s agitation wasn’t just anger; it was fear, dangerously and deliciously potent. Wilbur didn’t delude himself into thinking he was the primary cause. He wasn’t a threat anymore, and Quackity would be able to see that on him.

God, he was glad he’d asked Tommy to wait a distance away for this. He could practically taste the smoke in the air between them.

“Quackity,” he said, “I have something I need to tell you.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Quackity said.

“Yes, you do.”

“I don’t need your—your apology, or whatever this is, okay, I have shit to do—”

“I’m not apologizing,” Wilbur said, unable to hold back a smile. “I came to tell you that I never fucking liked you.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Quackity growled, and yes, there was that fighting spirit, the thing that had kept what was left of Wilbur burning for so long. “You think you can just come here and say that to me? Out of nowhere?”

“I can,” Wilbur said. “I can say whatever I want, and you’ll listen to me. I can tell you your nation’s a piece of shit, that you only made it to follow in my footsteps because that’s all you know how to do—”

“Oh, because your nation was so successful,” Quackity shot back. “L’Manberg lasted for what, two months before you blew it to shit? These buildings have stood here longer than anything in your crater of a country ever did!”

It was this back-and-forth routine of theirs he would miss the most—the way they took turns raising the stakes, going for lower blows, abandoning all restraint in pursuit of victory. Quackity’s words were water on a grease fire, and Wilbur was all too eager for an excuse to boil over.

“I tried to destroy this place,” he said. “I tried to destroy you too, plenty of times, but I never did. You’re still standing. That’s the beauty of it, isn’t it?” It was impulsive and stupid, but Wilbur had never been anything else—he seized Quackity by the upper arm, some misguided need to make sure he couldn’t get away. “You don’t need me to be your downfall, Quackity. You’ve got that covered all by yourself, don’t you?”

Quackity was fuming, pulling out his sword, and Wilbur was nothing but fire, flames licking up his dead and greying flesh at the promise of destruction. “I don’t need this,” Quackity said, and Wilbur could read all of what he was thinking just by looking at him. “I don’t need you. Let go of me, Wilbur, or I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Do it,” Wilbur said. If he let go now, it would be the last time he ever did. “Go ahead. Kill me.” I know you won’t was implied, not said. Wilbur didn’t need to say it. Quackity would know.

Quackity would look up at him any second, and know.

Quackity would—

Quackity was raising his sword and he wasn’t looking, and—stupidly, impulsively, because he’d only ever been himself—Wilbur moved into the path of Quackity’s swing, positioning himself in Quackity’s line of sight. By the time he finally met Wilbur’s eyes eyes, it was too late to correct its course. Quackity threw out his other arm as if to catch the blade with his own hand, and Wilbur couldn’t react fast enough to stop him.

“Fuck!” they both shouted in perfect unison, as Quackity’s hand hit Wilbur’s shoulder and the sword sliced into them both.

It was a shallow cut, by some miracle. Wilbur could handle it. But the same couldn’t have been said for Quackity, who dropped the sword and began clutching at his hand, blood seeping between his fingers.

Without thinking, Wilbur reached out for him. Quackity pulled away with a hiss, baring his teeth like a cornered animal, his golden incisor glinting in the sun. Maybe I should let him bite me again, Wilbur found himself thinking, for old times’ sake. But the moment passed, and he watched as Quackity snatch up the sword with his good hand, returning it to his inventory. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

He deserved that, probably. Still, Wilbur wasn’t going to stand there and watch him bleed without doing anything about it. “Tommy!” he called in the vague direction of where he’d seen his brother last. Tommy appeared from behind a nearby sand dune, where he’d almost certainly been eavesdropping on them. “Do you have any gapples?”

“In my ender chest,” Tommy said, racing into one of the nearby buildings. He returned only moments later with a golden apple, tossing it up and down in his hand like a softball. “Q, you alright, big man?”

“Hey, Tommy,” Quackity said through gritted teeth, accepting the proffered apple. “What are you still doing with this guy?”

Tommy blinked in confusion, like he didn’t understand the question. “How’d that even happen?” he asked, pointing to Quackity’s hand. He looked over at the matching slash on Wilbur’s shoulder. It was barely bleeding, so Wilbur didn’t bother to ask for a gapple of his own. Nothing but another tear in his jacket he’d never get around to mending.

“Stupid accident,” Quackity said.

“Oh. Well, eat the gapple then, dumbass.”

Quackity bit into the apple with a wince, chewing and swallowing before speaking. “Okay, out with it, Wilbur,” he said. “What the fuck do you want? Are you just here to antagonize me?”

No more pushing this off, not if it would result in further injury. “Quackity,” Wilbur said, his voice oddly hoarse, “I came to say that it’s been nice knowing you.”

Quackity took another bite of gapple, then another. “That sounds like a goodbye,” he said. With his mouth full it was hard to tell what tone he’d been going for. Each bite sprayed droplets of juice from the apple, and Wilbur almost forgot that Quackity was not a messy eater. Almost.

“Yeah, well…” Wilbur glanced over at Tommy, who had defaulted to what was familiar, hovering at Wilbur’s side. He hadn’t meant it to turn out this way, but he might as well rip off both band-aids at once. “That’s because it is.”

“The fuck do you mean?” Quackity got out, and there was that fire again. It’d be enough to keep him rowing for months at this point. “Why would you be saying goodbye? What are you even doing?”

“I’m going,” Wilbur said simply. “It’s time for me to go.”

He didn’t expect Quackity to understand, not yet. He’d recognize the signs of a self-destructive spiral anywhere, and he knew Quackity wasn’t going to be making any good choices for himself until it was over. For once, Wilbur didn’t want any part of it. He didn’t want to get hooked on the smell of sulfur as he rigged things to explode. He didn’t want another war. He wanted to go home, and Quackity, for all his familiarity, was not home.

You’re going,” Quackity repeated scathingly, but he looked at Tommy—a mistake, if he wanted to understand Wilbur. Tommy could usually be counted on to know what Wilbur was thinking, but this time around, Wilbur had been intentionally keeping him in the dark. When Quackity looked back at him, there was pity in his eyes—the genuine kind, not the disdain that Wilbur normally got in its place. Like he’d stared into Wilbur’s hidden depths and realized just how sad and broken he was.

The joke was on Quackity, of course. Because Wilbur was many things right now, but he wasn’t sad. He was the least broken he’d ever been in his life. He was alive.

“Wilbur,” Quackity said, “what are you trying to say?”

“I think I was pretty clear,” Wilbur said. “I’m going. I can’t stay here anymore, so I’m going.”

“Hey, don’t look at me,” Tommy said when Quackity’s eyes moved to him, “I’ve got no idea what he’s on about either.”

“Tommy, I’ll explain all this later,” Wilbur said. “I promise. You go on ahead, alright? I’ll…catch up with you, man.”

“Go on where?” Tommy asked, rolling his eyes.

“That direction,” Wilbur said, pointing to the left of the casino.

“Whatever. If you two are going to kiss again, I don’t really want to see it anyway.”

“I don’t think we are,” Wilbur said mildly. He knew he’d missed his chance.

Once Tommy was a good distance away, Quackity said, “I’m guessing you’ve already made up your mind, then.”

“I’d invite you to come with me,” Wilbur said. “Really, I would. But I already know your answer.”

Quackity sighed. “I could really use your help about now, you know.”

“You’re still on about the vice president thing?”

He laughed bitterly. “Nothing to be vice president of anymore.”

“That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

Wilbur couldn’t say he was surprised to hear it. “If I were you I’d make a run for it.”

“I can’t do that,” Quackity said. “I can’t leave him. Even if—” He shook his head. “Never mind. Where is it you’re going, exactly?”

“Home,” Wilbur said. “I’m going home.”

“That doesn’t answer my question at all.”

“I’m leaving the SMP,” Wilbur explained. “Going back to where I came from.”

“So this is going to be the last time I ever see you, then.”

“It is.”

Quackity seemed to be making up his mind about something, but for once, Wilbur couldn’t tell what it was. He took a step closer, unsure what compelled him to do so. It didn’t prepare him at all for when Quackity grabbed him by the collar, pulled Wilbur down to his level, and kissed him.

It was funny—Wilbur had always expected Quackity’s kiss to feel like a wildfire, uncontrolled and overpowering, something that would reduce him to a pile of ashes. Instead it was much more subdued, like a flickering torch in his hand, gentle but sure. As long as he held it steady, it would never go out.

Quackity was not his home, but maybe in another life, he could have been.

“Well then,” Wilbur said when they broke away. “I guess Tommy was right after all.”

Quackity crossed his arms, the faint evidence of a smile visible on his face. “Go fuck yourself, Wilbur Soot.”

Wilbur took one last look at him, flushed red and defiant as ever. Quackity was as unapologetic as Wilbur for the way things had turned out, and Wilbur wouldn’t have it any other way. He didn’t need Quackity to be sorry. He didn’t need him any other way but this, wild hair and wilder eyes, tasting like all the colors of an open flame.

The last thing he noticed about Quackity was that they’d been missing each other the entire time.

“You’re alright,” he said, and forced himself to tear his eyes away. He was glad he’d saved this stop for last. If he’d had any more time to waste, things might have turned out very, very different.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Quackity said, amused. “Goodbye, Wilbur.”

“Goodbye, Quackity.”

He headed north, towards Tommy, towards home.

#tntduo #wilbur soot #quackity #dsmpshipping #quackbur #my writing #if you liked this i would really appreciate it if you reblogged it!#or go leave me a comment on ao3 that works too #my stuff

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