Those are some excellent moments for sure :â) <3 @saringold
Pairing: Fellcest
Words: ~415
His brother had been listless all day, walking around with a blank, unseeing gaze deep in his sleepless, shadowed sockets. He had his usual smile on his face, sure, and he had started the day off with his typical inane puns (insisting over and over that they werenât over-done) but there had been no true mirth in his jokes and no real emotion in his voice. There was no doubt that Sans was having a Bad Day.
Thankfully, by now Papyrus was familiar enough with these days that heâd established a proper plan of action.
Step one, allow Sans to continue on pretending that everything is okay.
Step two, conveniently check-in on him while heâs at his post. Bringing snacks is optional, but advised. (Sans always lit up whenever he brought something particularly unhealthy, the fiend.)
Step three, very casually and not-at-all suspiciously suggest cutting the work day short and heading back home together. Insist that itâs not for any reason in particular and mostly because youâve secured the area far faster and far more thoroughly that Sans couldâve done it in the first place because you are just that Terrific.
(Step three-point-five, try not to preen too much at how easily Sans agrees and relaxes, trusting you completely.)
Step four, take Sans back home.
Which leads him back to the situation at hand---Sans is fast asleep, head resting in his lap and feet dangling off the end of the couch. Reprehensible behaviour, really. Theyâd been in the middle of an exceptional new movie! ...he assumed. Papyrus couldnât remember the details of it exactly, but only because heâd been too busy watching Sans sigh and untense, slumped against him as he drowsily watched. The small breathy laughter and hums of enjoyment had made his soul squeeze with fondness.
So, maybe heâll need to watch the movie again at some point to give it a proper review, but thatâs okay. It was important for a good caretaker to consider their patient first, after all. For now, he keeps one arm curled protectively over Sansâ side where heâs snuggling into Papyrusâs chest, and the other brushing soothingly over the top of his skull.
And Papyrus never really sleeps---wouldnât when at least one of them needs to be alert in case someone tries to catch them unaware---but as he watches Sans doze, he feels that same sort of peace and content blanket him anyways.
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The list of all the drabble requests I have for the âstarter wordsâ prompt post!Â
As Iâve mentioned many times on this blog, Iâm a slow writer. Oftentimes Iâm a distracted writer. And Iâm just plain busy. Iâll try to get through all of them, but also keep in mind that Iâm notorious for being shitty at following up on things like tbh I donât deserve to have any followers at all like damn Iâm the worst.Â
**IâLL BE UPDATING THIS LIST AS THINGS GET COMPLETEDÂ
AnywaysâŚin no specific order:
Peter Quill: submission
Peter Quill: whiskey, wild, sky
Faraday: whiskey (x2)
Bucky Barnes: trapped, shadows
Poe Dameron: freedom, flame
Bucky Barnes: masquerade, warm, photograph
Poe Dameron: storm, sleep
Faraday: magic, cards
Peter Quill or Steve Rogers (tbd): sacrifice, prison, alone
Peter Quill: mysterious, masquerade
Dark!Peter Quill: Envy
Owen Grady: shadows
Peter Quill: photograph (tbd)
Bucky Barnes: dance
Owen Grady: worship
Bucky Barnes: power, envy
Cassian Andor: mysterious, masqueradeÂ
Steve Rogers: devotion, hands
Peter Quill: gaze, sleep, glow
Poe Dameron: broken, melody, family, wings
Faraday: family
Peter Quill: pale, broken, shatter
Peter Quill: pale, broken, shatter, submission, alone (potentially combined with the other for the sake of similar words)
It wasnât often that Papyrus would request something where Sans got rough with him---his brother had a thing for being in control, aware and alert---but on certain days, when the stress of being in charge got to be too much, Papyrus would pull him aside. They would discuss the broad idea of what Papyrus wanted and leave the details a surprise. Theyâd seal the deal with a kiss and Sans would take him in whatever way his brother would allow.
But it was afterwards that Sans would make sure to give Papyrus what he really needed.
Papyrus wasnât a fan of distance following an intense scene, so Sans made sure to keep essentials handy nearby, set up prior to doing anything intimate. A container of warm water and plenty of washcloths; a variety of snacks and drinks; a set of fresh clean clothes; a book. So as Papyrus lay back, coming down from the end of his latest test of endurance, Sans got to work.
His brother didnât like feeling sticky and dirty so Sans wiped him down with the washcloths and the warm water, whispering praises and endearments like he only ever did in these situations, the only time they were ever vulnerable enough to allow this to pass. Papyrus breathed softly through it, sockets still closed and body too worn to move. Once clean, Sans redressed his brother, helping him into a pair of soft, worn-in pyjamas and giving him space to do it himself when he tried to do up the buttons on his shirt.
After that, he gave Papyrus a glass of water, placing other drinks---boxed and fruity like his brother enjoyed but dared never admit---nearby in case Papyrus was in the mood for something else. But his brother didnât glance their way, instead draining the glass quickly. Sans eased it out of his hands and pressed a granola bar into it, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone as he reminded him to take it easy as he ate it. Papyrus nodded at him, humming something he wasnât quite steady enough to voice.
As he continued to slowly chew at the bar in his hand, Sans retrieved the book from under the bed and sat with his back up against the headboard. Almost automatically, Papyrus curled up against him, resting his head on Sansâ shoulder. Sans pulled the covers up over them, soul warm and content.
Papyrus looked down at the book as Sans cracked it open. âDo the voices too.â
The door had barely slammed shut behind them when Sans pushed him up against it, the splintered wood digging in through the thing fabric of his hoodie. It felt like every sense of his was heightened as Sans dragged him down till they were at eye-level. He didnât have even a second to feel shocked or embarrassed or anything other than receptive when Sans licked into his mouth, furious and wet. The kiss itself was mostly teeth and sharp scrapes against soft, conjured flesh, but it didnât stop Papyrus from moaning low at the taste of his brother on his tongue.
Sans pulled back and Papyrus stumbled, crouched awkwardly as he was. His brother wiped his mouth against his sleeve and pointed at him. âOn the floor.â
He didnât question it, bones almost tingling with how eager he was for this. Papyrusâs soul thudded hard against the back of his ribs as he fell to his knees on the threadbare carpet and then quickly settled himself onto his back on the floor. Before Sans could even ask Papyrus started pulling off his pants, exposing his cunt, already formed and dripping.
âYouâre gross, Papyrus,â his brother growled in that deep, guttural voice of his, making him shiver all over from the sound alone.
âYeah,â he grinned, slipping his phalanges into his mouth before drawing them back out, slick with spit. He brought those same finger down towards his cunt, rubbing against the soft lips once, twice, before pushing them into himself. âIâm fuckinâ disgusting.â
In the very next second, Sans was down on the floor with him, reaching to wrap one firm hand around the one Papyrus was using to work himself open. He yelped at the pressure around his wrist, tight enough to bruise. Sans either didnât notice or outright ignored him, too busy using his other hand to work open the front of his pants and pull his dick out.
When he did, Papyrus laughed; a low, raspy wheeze. âShit, youâre gonna fuckinâ tear me up with that thing.â
âShut up,â Sans retorted, taking his cock in hand and rubbing it up against Papyrusâs wet folds.
He supposed he should at least be grateful that Sans wasnât going in just like that, though it seemed like his brother wasnât aware of the concept of stretching a partner out before fucking them open on a dick that god damn thick. But oh well, it wasnât like clients hadnât done worse to him, and it felt good anyways. Made his face feel hot and his bones feel like they were filled with liquid heat, burning for Sans to get a move on.
He was so into the feeling of it, the weight of Sansâs cock resting against his cunt, just barely pushing into it, that it took a second squeeze of Sansâ hold on his wrist for him to realise he was being spoken to. âHuh?â
âI said,â Sans repeated, eyelights flashing, grim and serious. âAre you ready?â
Papyrus was surprised heâd even bother to ask. Nevertheless, he answered his brother with a slow, sultry smile.
There were only a few places where Nanami could truly work. She wasnât a terrible student, truly just enough to keep herself in school and graduate on time. It kept her parents happy, and that was the important thing. However, that didnât make it less of a struggle. For today, she could barely even look at it.
The air was filled with spices and the thick aroma of cooked beef, so thickly that it filled her mouth with its savory taste that, if she gave it too much thought, would rumble her stomach. There was a nearly constant clanging of plates and pans and pots, and a flurry of exchanges between cooks and waitstaff, some pleasant, some not so much.
Her fatherâs kitchen was large enough to swallow her whole, but was filled with so much in familiar things and people that it was closer to home than where she went every night to sleep. No matter the occasion, there was always a desk cleared away in the corner for her over by the back door, and whenever sheâd come in, her father would greet her with a warm smile.
Warmth. Sheâd been in many kitchens before and since then to know of how sterile almost all of them looked, but she never felt that way in her fatherâs kitchen. The times where she worked for him, or stole glances in between writing papers and assignments, Nanami knew that many of the people that were under her father had similar thoughts, which had been more comforting than she could ever fully explain. The thought didnât need any concrete root, it just was.
For today, this fact seemed to be working against her. For the past 20 minutes, she had simply stared at her textbook, as if she won the staring contest with it, the knowledge would simply appear in her mind. It wasnât much use, and it hadnât taken long to feel her father looming behind her.
"Someone your age shouldnât be so preoccupied," and then an apron was tossed on her head, which Nanami guessed, meant she lost with it draped over her face like it was.
She pulled the cloth away with only a half-hearted sigh. âYou know momma wouldnât like this.â
"Sheâs just happy when youâre not knee deep in trouble. Câmon. You got a bit of time on your hands, and you at least cook better than your sister."
Nanami never really liked cooking too much. It was nice when you knew what you were doing, but a teenager with barely any sort of education to her name made it difficult to experiment without something going very wrong the first few tries. Her dad was patient about it when they were at home, and at times, when the energy was still there past the closing hours, he would guide her hand with some of the gentlest smiles sheâd ever seen on another person.
It was the sort of person he was. For many he couldâve been intimidating, heavy set body with taut, bronze skin, and a gruff, roguish smile that widened just slightly when he had a little too much to drink. He could put the fear of god in a person then turn around and nearly crush their spine with a tight hug.
Unfortunately, not even good company could exactly erase the monotony of restaurant work for her. There was a lot of repeating orders, getting them back and starting over, and yelling. Almost always someone was yelling. The chaos was what made it home, but in the many days she was sent there, the hours could stretch and twist until Nanami was ready to throw the next plate into a customerâs face.
Even in the coming years, sheâd never been too great at the service industry, or any work that required answering to a higher authority really. There was always something about that power structure that set her teeth on edge, perhaps as a cold reminder of who her mother was, even when she knew, in the end, it wasnât about the power she had that made it so difficult to fight back.
Usually her job in the kitchen was simple, usually some of the prep work that came to various dishesâ cutting vegetables, preparing sauces and various mixes. If she gave it much thought, even now she mightâve been able to recite all the different recipes her father used, but she didnât know how to always cook the meats, the heavy parts of the dish so well. However, she had crafted a delicate touch from a young age, practiced each slice and each stir and each carving of meats with a steady approach.
She knew something was wrong when she kept feeling her father watching her, a weighty, stormy pall in his expression. It took him a long time to bring up his thoughts, but it twisted the moment into something formidable, a noticeable wall forming between them.
"You could come work here after graduation."
"I appreciate the faith on my college career."
He frowned, rubbed his eye for a moment, and then joined her side by the counter, leaning his elbows against its edge. âI would if I thought you cared about it.â
"So? You know Moâ"
"Thatâs not a place for a kid."
The silence couldâve swallowed them both at that moment. Her lips pursed, and she turned back to her work, coming down harder and harder on the knife with each press against the meat, pressing her thumb against the dull edge. By the time she finally tossed the knife aside, she could see her hand shaking.
"So you know about it?"
"Itâs what it is. You know your mom wants the best for you. I just donât think she knows what that is."
Nanami hesitated, felt her stare at the counter strain and blur. All the questions she had, the thoughts, all just mingled together into something she could no longer comprehend, a monstrosity that no longer seemed possible to overcome. A, âwhy?â slipped out, mangled and hoarse.
He didnât say a word, picking himself up from the counter and flashing a small, unreadable smile. âThink about what I said.â
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There's a smile on her face that she never sees anywhere else, so bright that it dances in the whites of her eyes as she watches the crowds below. The blanket is laid out between them, six-pack and haphazard sandwiches forgotten at the moment for the sights, and Shepard is perhaps more mesmerized by the change within her dearest friend. Kasumi feels at home and it shows with the way the excitement seems to brighten every part of her face, from the whites of her grin to the way her eyes seem to glint unnaturally from the artificial light.
It doesn't happen the first time they're all together. It's a hurried mess, a pleasant, wonderful mess that she gets too wrapped up in to realize what's happening, find something dizzying in the kisses left against her skin, James almost delicate at first before possessive while Tem's-- Tem's like hot fire, wild always from start to finish. By the end she's counting them all, the way it leaves her breathless and the scratches and gasps she leaves behind.Â
Notes: 5/50. Based off a masterlist theme from a website.
#1 Unprofitable (415)
Characters: Seryna, Kasumi
âAnd you guarantee this is fail-proof?â
           â100%.â Her eyes always darted to the dark corners when she made the sale pitch, looking for the glint of almost unnatural eyes lurking in the shadowsâwatching, perhaps laughing.  She did like to wait until the last possible moment.
           Kasumi would be waiting for Seryna though, as soon as screwed the last little piece in the new security system, and the money wired into their shared account, their clients none the wiser to the fact that the system failed before it could even start.
           And once Seryna left the mansion, hiding back a confident smirk, Kasumi was well into the shuttle, waving her over. Sheâd greet the asari with a kiss before waving enthusiastically t the backseat. âYou wonât believe what they had in there!â
           It was the child-like glee Kasumi had in showing her each piece that Seryna would always remember the most, even after the thief had long since passed.
Words: 159
Time: 12:45 AM
#2 The Shedding of Innocent Blood (54)
Characters: Kasumi, Shaâira
The question came suddenly on what seemed to be a normal day. Kasumi had appeared at her door with a soft smile and affection in her voice as she asked how Shaâira was doing. The normal catching up proceeded during afternoon tea in which the offer of a bath was made. The only thing that gave away herâthe thiefâs thoughts were the fingers that would occasionally graze across her wrist, looking for some sense of comfort.
The question came in the bath, almost out of nowhere as she ran her fingers through black hair. âDo you think Iâm a good person?â
Shaâira didnât respond at first, eyes trailing to three thick scars across her shoulders, down to her mid-back, bullet-shaped scars along her hip, the freshest one cutting across her spine. She still remembered the brief flash of fear as she heard Kasumi was in the hospital--- critical condition. A part of her mind reminded her that no one earned this many keeping their heads down. Not with intent to kill.
She rinsed her hair, watching as warm droplets slipped down her bare shoulders. âI think youâre good enough,â Shaâira reassured her before continuing, âBut is that question really for me, or for you?â
Kasumi didnât answer at first, staring at her calloused hands as Shaâira began to lather her back. âI think about it sometimes. How much good I took out of this galaxy and how much Iâve brought in.â
âThatâs how you measure yourself?â
â⌠Iâve probably brought more evil in than anything else.â
Her shoulders shook with those words. Shaâiraâs eyes softened, hands brushing against the trembling thief, hugging her tightly against her. âWould the galaxy be the same without you though?â This seemed to give her pause. âWould Kahje still be there without you?â
She felt Kasumi reach for her hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing it, tighter than she had ever held it. It was enough. For now anyway.
Words: 326
Time: 1:38 AM
#3 Remain in Darkness (86)
Characters: Kasumi, Linus
           When Linus was a child, he would often find his father wandering the pathways of the Sanctuary grounds, watching the workers or the animals pass by her. Often times he would join her in these walks. Though they rarely spoke in these moments, Linus always appreciated them in an odd sort of way.
           The last walk they shared together was a week before she died. No one would say anything, but when his father arrived home that day, she barely spoke. It wasnât the first time that she would grow quiet toward them, usually after a difficult assignment. Usually when there was something she didnât want them to know about. Linus found her wandering the grounds late in the afternoon, though her pace was slow, leisurely.
           âI thought youâd might join me.â She smiled, but it didnât quite reach her eyes. They didnât talk for a while, something that wasnât out of the ordinary. Linus noted that his father was taking her time in the walk though. They were rare these days though. He had his own job to worry about, apartment on the Citadel. They were both growing older.
           There was a small hill over near the lake that they liked to stop at sometimes. Kasumi had slumped against the grass there, patting down the seat next to her. âPeople stop changing after a while,â she began as he sat down. âAt least, on a fundamental level.â
           âWhat about you and Mom?â
           She shook her head. âWeâre no different. Iâm no different.â She picked at the blades of grass for a moment before a smile formed on her lips, wistful. âIâm glad you went with C-sec. Youâre good there. Shadows arenât really a place for anyone.â
           Linus passed her an odd look, mandibles twitching. His father was certainly in an odd mood today. âAnd youâŚ?â
           âIâm overstaying my welcome there.â The way his father said it. It almost seemed like it was supposed to be a joke, but it fell short. âAnd I canât get out now. I donât really want to.â He wasnât sure what he was supposed to say to that, though Kasumi didnât give him much time to. It wasnât long afterward that she stood up, offering her hand to him.
           The gesture was silly. He towered over her by far at this point, but Linus still took the hand, getting to his feet. They stood quietly facing each other for a moment as Linus struggled to find something to say. He felt like he should.
           Kasumi only smiled at him, rubbing his shoulders. âWhen did you grow up?â she laughed for a moment. Then her expression fell to something more serious, morose. âWatch over your mom and them for me, okay? When I canât.â
           âSureâŚâ With that, his father smiled and continued her walk, Linus slowly trailing behind her.
           Heâd find her a week later by the lakeâs side, tucked away in the shade of a bush after hours of searching. And heâd see the face of his dead father whenever he closed his eyes for weeks to come.
Words: 514
Time: 3:11 PM
#4 My Child (251)
Characters: Takuya, Ahab, Sarah
The first time he saw the young boy was when he dropped Sarah off after a long day at work. Sarah had managed to get Takuya to go with her to the club, then proceeded to go missing for several hours, leaving him with a pushy bartender trying to get a bar tab out of him. The fact that he was under-aged didnât seem to faze him.
As soon as he stepped out of the doorway, Takuya spotted a small pair of eyes watching him through the crack of the door across from him. Sarah did mention being a mother. He reached out a hand, beckoning the boy closer, but he merely slipped back into the darkness of his bedroom.
Takuya let the boy be, not really thinking about it until the next morning, when he finally slipped out as Takuya was making coffee for both him and Sarah. This small, dark-haired boy stared at him with big, curious eyes, and for a moment, Takuya struggled to find something to say.
âYou have cereal?â
The boy nodded, pointing to one of the high cabinets. Without much thought into it, Takuya poured the small child a bowl of cereal and set it on the only table that seemed to be in the apartment, a shabby-looking coffee table in the living room. Â Then he sat down next to the boy, letting the silence fall between them as he ate.
âWhatâs your name?â Takuya asked as soon as the boy slurped the last bit of cereal into his mouth.
âAhab. You work with Mom donât you?â
Takuya nodded.
Ahab seemed to smile for a moment, grim in appearance. âI met you, so then you must be good,â he nodded. âMom meets a lot of bad people, so I usually donât meet her friends.â
Takuya sat there, stunned for a moment as Ahab picked up his backpack, peeked into his motherâs room one last time, then headed out the door, presumably to school. As soon as the door closed, Takuya had half the mind to go after him. He wondered how much the young boy really knew.
Words: 353
Time: 4:01 PM
#5 This is what was left when he was gone (1)
Characters: Kasumi, Kirrahe
           He didnât really look like him when she thought about it. He was smaller, shyer. His skin was more reminiscent of an old rival than an old friend (something she had to check on). The salarian was pearl white, blue streaks with blue tipped horns. He seemed to be almost swallowed by the red knitted blanket they had given him on arriving home.
           Yet Kasumi remembered from conversations she had with Kirrahe, about how once upon a time he wasnât so different. And when the little salarian smiled, it was hard not to think about her old Major.
           She sat down next to the shivering salarian, watching him for a moment. âDo you remember your name?â
           The salarian shook his head. It was a tragedy in itself. The refugee camp hadnât said much, but from what little she did know, getting picked up by slavers. Refuses to talk about anything before that. She knew he wasnât at a good place.
           Maybe it was right. âHow about a heroâs name?â
