obey woman

Hi there :) could you please write a fanfiction about: Alex getting bitten/scratched by some alien during DEO assignment but she thinks of it as nothing and after work goes home to see Maggie (pizza night). But in the morning she feels really bad and her temperature is rising so Maggie calls Kara. When Kara gets there Maggie is in the shower holding (barely consious) Alex, trying to lower her temperature. Kara decides to get Alex to Barrys Earth (with that thing she got from Cisco) but Maggie wont leave her side so she comes too…? :)

^^ prompt above from @benedoodlecumberpoodlestudyblr

She shrugs it off and she brings home pizza and she smiles as Maggie fawns over the scrape on her wrapped arm, as Maggie presses soft kisses all around her bandage, as she dotes on her girl even as Alex insists, insists, that she’s fine, that it’s just a scratch, that it was no big deal, really.

But she secretly loves the attention Maggie is giving her, the big deal Maggie is making; how strong, how heroic, Maggie is making her feel.

Maggie knows. She lays it on extra thick, because Alex has spent enough time neglecting herself – enough time being neglected – enough time in the shadow of other heroes, of other injuries, to have hers attended to, to have hers honored.

But in the morning?

In the morning, they both realize that she wasn’t fawning over just a scratch.

Because in the morning, Alex is burning up and Alex is dry heaving and Alex’s temperature is rising by the minute.

Maggie calls Kara with the phone balanced on her shoulder as she half drags, half carries Alex into the shower, stripping her drenched clothes to run her body under cool water, to try, to try, to lower her temperature. To try to keep her somewhat stable until Kara can get her medics that will know what the hell alien poisons are.

The DEO’s med bay was trashed in the attack the night before, so for a moment, Kara panics. But only for a moment.

“Cisco,” she calls into the communicator he gave her. “I need you. Now.”

Maggie knows better by now than to be shocked when a swirling blue vortex appears behind her in Alex’s bathroom.

“Flash,” Alex giggles vaguely as her head lolls loosely onto Maggie’s shoulder. “Bastard took Kara. Dangerous. Without me. Need words with him.”

“Shh, that’s right, Ally,” Maggie whispers, looking askance into the vortex as Kara lands in the bathroom door, ignoring the vortex all together as she rushes toward the shower.

“What the hell happened?” she asks Maggie, grabbing a towel to wrap her sister in, switching off the water as she kneels over her. “It’s okay Alex. I’m here, I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“Kara,” Alex babbles. “Flash vortex.”

“That’s right, Alex. Star Labs is going to help you.” She glances at Maggie. “It’s gotta be an infection from that scratch last night.”

Maggie nods, and her eyes are wide as she watches her girlfriend slip in and out of consciousness. She barely notices when two men appear in the bathroom behind them, breathing slightly heavily, the one with the strange goggle-glasses with his hand on his chest and a vague grin on his face.

“Only took one try this time! My man, we’re getting better at this!” He holds up his hand for the man in red to hit, but the Flash leaves him hanging as he goes to kneel next to Kara.

“This isn’t how I wanted to see you again. Or how I wanted to meet your sister.”

“Thanks for coming, Barry.” Kara gives him a sideways hug as he looks down at Alex’s drenched body.

“Hey, secret identity,” the other man murmurs, but Kara waves him off.

“Maggie’s family, Cisco.”

Maggie glances up at him – at Cisco – and grimaces a greeting, too numb with fear to fully register the impact of Kara’s words.

“Looks like an infection, obviously, but metas aren’t exactly like aliens, so I don’t… Come on,” Barry tells Kara. “We have to get her back through the vortex. Caitlin’ll come up with something, Kara. I promise.”

Kara nods grimly and picks up Alex’s limp body in her arms like she weighs nothing. Barry gingerly positions the towel more completely around Alex’s body while somehow averting his eyes from her nakedness at the same time, and Maggie immediately decides she likes this Flash character.

She rises to follow Kara into the vortex, and they all look at her and hesitate.

“It’s a parallel earth, Maggie. It’s not… the more people we take over, the bigger the risk of – ”

“Look, I know you don’t know me, and I know you have this big superhero system on your earth, and I know you have super speed and you have some vibing shit, but I swear it doesn’t matter what superpowers you both have. She’s my girlfriend and I am not leaving her side.”

Barry stares for a moment and then nods grimly, once, while a broad smile grows on Cisco’s face. “Dude, she gay?” he asks Kara. “Nice work!” He grins down at Alex’s unconscious form, and sobers immediately. “I guess I’ll… congratulate her when she comes to.”

Kara rolls her eyes and Maggie grins faintly at Cisco’s enthusiasm for queerness, at his persistent belief, his obvious faith in this Caitlin person to save Alex, the way his eyes grow somber and focused and intense as he turns back to reopen the vortex.

“Nothing bad’s gonna happen to your girlfriend, Maggie. We’re not gonna allow it.”

He reaches back for her hand and squeezes slightly before he opens the vortex, and Maggie gulps her appreciation, because her throat is too constricted to allow for any more words.

“Kara,” a beautiful white girl rushes forward when they step through the vortex. “Lay her right here.”

Kara obeys and the woman – “Caitlin Snow. Best doctor on this or any earth. She’ll fix your girl. I promise,” Cisco leans in and whispers to Maggie – slips into mode immediately, with an intensity of focus Maggie has seen in Alex so many times, both in the field and in the bedroom.

“Do we know anything about the species that gave her the wound?” Caitlin is streaming through questions with Kara, with Maggie, as she checks Alex’s vitals, as she drapes a medical gown over her body, as she makes notes to herself and exchanges significant glances with a concerned-looking Barry.

Kara and Maggie are fielding answers as best they can when two more people burst into the lab, one in a yellow suit that almost matches Barry’s and one in a pair of jeans that would have Maggie gulping under other circumstances.

The woman with the jeans falls into Barry’s arms after pulling Kara into a long hug. “Are you alright? I know what it’s like to watch a sibling in danger,” she says, shoving the boy who ran in with her gently.

“I trust Caitlin,” Kara says softly, but her eyes are wide and her eyes are terrified.

“Iris West, and my brother, Wally. Kid Flash,” the woman holds her hand out to Maggie. “You’re Alex’s girlfriend.”

Barry, Wally, and Cisco all turn to stare at Iris, and even Caitlin glances up with an arched eyebrow.

Iris shrugs. “Journalist. Also, I know a little something about watching your unconscious superhero partner get prodded and poked on a medical table: I know that look.”

She nods her head toward Barry, but her warm eyes don’t leave Maggie’s.

“Maggie Sawyer, NCPD,” Maggie recites automatically, and Kara reaches out and squeezes the hand that Iris doesn’t have.

Iris offers Maggie a small smile. “My dad’s a cop, too. He’d approve of you for someone as amazing as we’ve heard Kara’s sister is.”

Maggie gulps and her hand clenches Iris’s harder without meaning to. “Caitlin’s the best. Alex is gonna be okay.”

“Alex is gonna kill Barry for letting Kara go fight an army of aliens without her alien-fighting sister,” a ragged, exhausted voice croaks from the medical table.

“Alex!” Maggie and Kara both exclaim, and Caitlin smiles as she steps back from the table to allow Alex’s family to surround her.

“Babe, I’m here,” and “Alex, I’ve got you,” accompany “Damn, Caitlin, alien infections stand no chance against you!” and “It was simple, really, and important that Maggie got Alex’s temperature down as fast as she did” and “Told you Caitlin’s the bomb” and “Please no bomb references, not after last week” and “Should I leave before she comes to fully? Because I really think she might make good on her threats to kill me for bringing Kara over here without her” and “Run Barry, run.”

And Star Labs had never been quite so full of superheroes, or quite so full of relief, or quite so full of love across earths.

Trollhunters FanFic – “Like for Like, Echo for Echo”

After the silence of loneliness, Barbara Lake is all too ready to chase after an echo only he can give her…

A prequel of sorts to An Amorous Attack.

The night is dark and full of Stricklake, she whispers…


Originally posted by drunkbroadway

Dedicated to @humanityinahandbag & @bifacialler, my fellow shipmates in Stricklake Hell and who deserve all the love and encouragement in the world! Ler my love, please feel free to think of this as an early birthday present =) 

Fair bit of warning, folks, it gets quite steamy here. Nothing that warrants an Explicit or Mature rating, of course, but…well, if you read An Amorous Attack, you know what’s in store. 

Originally posted by hideawayandhaven

As always, I hope you enjoy! 

“You know…you didn’t have to walk me home.”

He arched a brow at her as they made their way up to her porch, the gesture making those (so unfairly gorgeous) green eyes of his glint as his mouth curled into a half smile, the same one that had made Barbara’s heart do such a strange little spasm when first seeing it that she had been worried until she realized that oh, that’s fluttering.

That had been followed by Oh God, what the hell are you thinking, getting a crush on your son’s teacher?

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The Obligation of a Woman Obeying her Husband

Shaykh Ṣāliḥ Al-Fawzān said:

“It is obligatory on you O Muslim woman to obey your husband in matters of good. It was narrated from Abū Hurayrah – Allāh be pleased with him –  that Messenger of Allāh (ﷺ) said:

“If a woman prays her five (daily) prayers and keeps her private parts chaste and obeys her husband, she will enter Paradise from any of the doors of Paradise she wishes.” [Reported by Ibn Hibbaan in his Ṣaḥīḥ]

It was narrated from Abū Hurayrah – Allāh be pleased with him –  that Messenger of Allāh (ﷺ) said:

“It is not lawful for a woman to fast while her husband is present unless she has his permission. And she must not allow anyone in his home except with his permission.” [Reported by Al-Bukhārī and Muslim]

Also it was narrated from Abū Hurayrah – Allāh be pleased with him –  that Messenger of Allāh (ﷺ) said:

“When a man calls his wife to bed and she does not come to him, and he spends the night angry with her, the angels curse her until the morning arrives.” [Reported by Al-Bukhārī and Muslim]

And in the report of Al-Bukhārī and Muslim, the Messenger of Allāh (ﷺ) said:

“By the One in whose Hand my soul is, there is no man that calls his wife to bed and she refuses him, except that the One who is above the heavens is displeased with her until he (the husband) becomes content with her.”

From the rights the husband possesses over his wife is that she fulfills the duty of tending to his household and not coming out from it except with his permission.

The Messenger of Allāh (ﷺ) said:

“The woman is the caretaker of her husband’s household and she will be questioned as to her responsibility.” [Reported by Al-Bukhārī and Muslim]

Another right he possesses over her is that she fulfills the duties of the household and that she does not make him hire a female servant, which will cause harm and due to which there will be a risk of danger for himself and his children.

Shaykh al-Islām Ibn Taimiyyah – Allāh have mercy on him – said commenting on Allāh’s saying:

“Therefore the righteous women are devoutly obedient and guard in the husband’s absence what Allāh orders them to guard (i.e. their chastity).” (4:34)

“This mandates the unrestricted obligation of a woman obeying her husband, in all affairs, such as serving him, traveling with him, assisting him and other matters, as is indicated in the Sunnah of Allāh’s Messenger.” (Majmū’ al-Fatāwā [32/260-261])

The great scholar, Ibn Al-Qayyim, said:

“Those who say that it is obligatory for the woman to serve the husband use (this ayah) as proof in that those who Allāh directed His Speech to (on this occasion) considered this to be from al-ma’rūf (good). But as for the woman relaxing and having the husband serve her, sweep, grind the flour, knead the bread, wash the clothes, fix the bed, and serve the household, then that is from al-munkar (evil).

And Allāh says:

‘And they (women) have rights (over their husbands) similar to those (of their husbands) over them.’ (2:228)

And Allāh says:

‘Men are the protectors and maintainers over women.’ (4:34)

So if a woman doesn’t serve her husband, but instead he acts like a servant to her, then this means that she is the protector and maintainer over him.”

He (Ibn Al-Qayyim) further said:

“For indeed Allāh obligated him to spend on her, to clothe her and to provide her with a place of dwelling in exchange for his enjoying her and her serving him, as well as what the habits of the spouses call for.

Likewise, the binding marriage agreements require that the spouses live in kindness. And kindness means a woman’s serving (her husband) and taking care of the inner affairs of the household.”

And he (Ibn Al-Qayyim) said:

“And there is no difference as to whether the woman is prestigious or lowly, or if she is poor or rich. Just look at this woman who was the most prestigious of women in the world…” - al-Hadī (5/188-189)

He is referring to Fāṭimah – Allāh be pleased with her – for she would serve her husband and come to the Prophet (ﷺ) complaining to him, but he would not complain about her.”

— Tanbīhāt ‘alā Ahkām takhtassu bil-Mu’mināt” (pg. 97-99)

Cry And Let It All Out (Himchan x reader)

Word count: 2.7 k+

Genre/warnings: fluff (involves a lot of sadness, tears and comforting though, so if you’re searching for something happier, this is not it).

Summary: Late in the evening you heard quiet sobs cutting through the otherwise completely silent apartment. You went to investigate, just to find a crying Himchan sitting on the edge of the bed and trying not to let you know how he felt. With just a mere idea in mind about what had happened, you didn’t hesitate to go and comfort him, helping him forget all the mean remarks and comments that had flooded him earlier that day.

He turned his head, and even though you were standing in the doorway and he, sitting on the edge of his king sized bed, was on the other side of the room, you were still able to make all of his sharp features out perfectly. The dim moonlight that creeped it’s way through the wide open windows and the lightly flowing curtains gently shone on his face, highlighting not only his amazing bone structure, but also his silent tears that he’s been trying to battle with for a while now. He was silent, his hands clenching the corners of the mattress and his lips pressed tightly together, making his sobs and gasps for air as silent as possible.

For anyone who didn’t know him, he would’ve looked like he was straight out of a movie scene, crying about his long-lost love or things of such kind, but you knew him better. And you had a brief idea of what was the cause for such emotions.

A few minutes of simple staring had apparently given you enough courage to go and do something about the situation. The floor lightly creaked after you’d taken exactly three steps from the doorway, and he noticed the sound, jumping at it a little and turning his face away real quick.

“Please leave,” is all he said. His tone wasn’t really harsh or demanding, it sounded more like a cry for help, although the phrase didn’t match that at all. And you could hear the amount of time he’s been feeling this way in his words, and, judging by the shakiness of his tone, it’s been a while already.

Part of you told you to obey your man, because, although you weren’t one of those “man tells, woman obeys” couples (instead just listening to each other equally), you still considered obeying him in some kinds of situations the right thing to do, simply because you thought he knew better. This time around though, you felt like doing as you pleased, which lead to you taking a few more steps until you had finally reached the end of the bed.

The second you got on it, he felt the bed sink in slightly, and sighed at the fact. His heart raced as he was conflicted between wanting to be in your arms and not wanting you to see him this way, but he didn’t have nearly enough time to think about it or debate with himself, as two familiar arms wrapped around his waist and he felt your body softly press against his from behind. You let your legs fall on either side of him, so they were gently hanging down the bed, too short to reach the floor.

“Himchan,” you said softly, stretching out the “a” a little, your face pressing against his upper back, your lips brushing against his thin white t-shirt. He tried to look away and he tried not to squirm every time he took a sharp breath in between his silent cries, but somewhere along the way he had already figured out that you knew. And if not all of this, then his hectic heartbeat would give him away, he knew exactly you could feel it.

Your hands had started moving without any command of your brain, gently playing around with his shirt and stroking the soft skin on his sides. You’d noticed how he tried to adjust his all-over-the-place breathing to your much calmer one, so you just held him close, your face and whole body pressed against his, covering him like a vulnerable child.

“Himchan,” you repeated after a while, pulling your legs back from either side of him so you could sit on your knees and reach a little higher than just his upper back with your face. Your arms unwrapped and traced his whole upper body lightly in the process of you moving them to hang loosely around his neck, resting on his broad shoulders. Your head was now next to his, your upper bodies still pressed tightly together, as your slowly started kissing him.

Leaving a trace of “it’s okays” and “I’m theres” in the form of soft gentle kisses, you started somewhere at his jawline, and decided to slowly make your way to his collarbone. He desperately tried not to cry, not to move from the sharp breaths and not to shake from the sobbing, until you started speaking.

“Baby, let it all out. Don’t hold back,” is all he needed to let a waterfall of tears and an earthquake of shaky sobs take control of his body. He was aware he was making ugly faces, and he was aware he not only felt, but also looked at his worst. His crying slightly increased in volume, although not that much, and your kisses increased as well, becoming deeper, but still staying as gentle as possible. One of your hands was now cupping the side of his face and stroking his wet cheek, wiping away tons of tears with your thumb.

You stopped kissing him for a bit and buried your face in his shoulder, quietly listening to his symphony of tears.

“Just a little… It’s nothing… I’ll get it together.. I..”

“Shh,” you whispered into his skin, feeling that he had calmed down just enough to do what had to be done next.

Your bit your lip and lifted up your head. Your hand that was still somewhere close to his face turned his head so he would face you. Your eyes met, and you saw his red puffy ones, eyes that gave away all of his inner feelings.
You wanted to slap yourself for having these type of thoughts at a moment like this, but you couldn’t help but stare at his face. Even with red eyes and tear stained cheeks he looked so flawless, his gaze so sharp, his cheekbones, jawline and nose a true masterpiece made by good genetics and mother nature, and his lips being the thing you were about to lay your own on.

You kissed him gently, making sure he got your message clearly. You made it slightly sloppy, slow and passionate, just the way he liked it. He soon understood that this was helping tons, and tried to kiss you back as good as he could in his current state. Soon enough, his still relatively rapid breathing started slowing down, getting in sync with yours.

You would make it a few separate kisses instead of one very long one. When you pulled back but he leaned in to get some more is when you knew things were going the right way. Your right hand was holding his head firmly in place, your fingers tangled in his soft hair, trying not to pull it, instead just twisting some of it’s strands in between your fingers. In between the kisses you held your face close to his, not letting him slip or look away by still holding his head in your hand, noses touching and breaths hot against each other’s skin. His eyes didn’t open once, he kept them shut, some last lonely tears rolling down his cheeks and falling somewhere in between you two. Soon enough he’d calmed down just enough to be able to breathe properly again, and you gently moved your hand from the back of his head to his cheek, cupping it and tugging his face closer again for another round of healing.

“Come here,” you gently whispered as you pulled away, your hands sliding to perfectly land on his shoulders. He felt you slightly tugging him back, indicating that you wanted him to lie down on the bed. He didn’t argue, obeying immediately and letting you pull his bigger and heavier body down with ease.

He landed right in your arms, his head somewhere on your chest, being gently caressed by your loving hands. His hands wrapped around your body as he turned from his back to his right side, and this is when you were 100% sure that he had accepted the fact that he had just showed his weak side to you, which he tended to keep to himself, not wanting to come off as very emotional. His head tilted upwards, and soon enough you felt him burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You stayed tangled up like this for a longer amount of time. He stayed silent, and simply laid there, breathing deeply, letting himself sink into your embrace. You knew his mind was still racing, but from previous experiences you also knew that the best thing to do would be to just hold him and let him think all the negativity out before putting some other things into his head.

“Himchan,” you said in a similar fashion like the first time you called him, stretching out the “a” a little longer. He didn’t respond, but you were more than sure that he had heard you.

“Himchan, you know that I love you, right?” you softly cooed at him, not really hoping but kind of wanting any kind of response from him. You’d already given up when he shook his head, making so little movement you almost did not notice.

“And you know that I love you a lot, like, more than I ever thought I could love anybody, hmm?” another nod followed, sooner than the last one, and more noticeable as well. Of course he knew, you never hesitated to tell him.

“And you know as well that, even though no human really could reach complete perfection at any point in their existence, I think you’re the closest I’ve seen so far,” he stayed still, not reacting to your statement in any way or form.

“This is when you have to nod, babe, in case you forgot” you told him and pressed a quick kiss on the top if his head, letting your lips rest on that same exact spot for a longer time. His arms tugged on you slightly, still showing disagreement, but you ignored it, drawing circle patterns on his side with your fingers as you continued.

“I’ve never seen anyone so genuinely… Special. Really, I don’t know how to explain it. I remember feeling intimidated when I first saw you up close, and I hope you remember how I managed to screw up one sentence. Twice. The first sentence I ever said to you. Simply because I was caught off guard by how stunning you were, everything about you, starting from the model-like facial features and the messy hair you had that day, and ending with your perfect body shape. Is it too much to say that I thought you rather belonged in a museum?” you said, trying to please his crushed self-esteem and confidence. Not that any of the things you had just told him were lies, because even if it all sounded cheesy, you couldn’t deny that you really felt that way about him.

“I got to know you and couldn’t match your face with your personality at first, really. You were such a dork, and so sweet. Being all critical of everything, but rather in a loving than a mean fashion. Acting like a kid whenever you had the opportunity, and keeping you confidence up high after being called on by people you could care less about. I admired you before I loved you, but now I’m proud to say I’ve learned to combine both,” he sighed at your statement. It was hard to talk some sense into him at moments like these, because he despised himself to the maximum, but you were nowhere near giving up.

“Babe, you’ve always been so good to me, helping me up whenever I was down, and I think you remember just as well as I do how bad it used to be,” you thought about the issues you’ve had some time ago, and, looking at Himchan’s body language, he remembered about it too.

“You were the only reason I left the house back then, because you gave me no choice. When you send me a text saying “You’ve got 30 minutes, dress cute and be in a good mood, I’m taking you out for coffee,”, how do I decline, knowing there’s a stubborn child on the other end of the line who won’t take a “no” from me? All I had left was to obey, and you never let me go straight back home after coffee. You made sure I spent some time out the house, knowing how much my four-wall environment and your absence in it brought me down, and you made me stay over at your place when I didn’t want to go back to my own, cooking dinner for me and letting me walk around in your biggest, warmest hoodies. Babe, it literally happened today as well,” you told him softly as you remembered him picking you up and inviting you to his place because he wanted to try out a new recipe. You paused for a while, stopping your fingers from drawing circles.

"And after all of this, you don’t want to accept the title I’d just given you? Or should I repeat all I just said again?” he still hadn’t moved, he was still processing everything.

“So I’ll ask again, babe, but just slightly differently. Do you know that different people are entitled in different opinions, and a big part of modern society consists of people who judge before they get to know? Do you know that believing someone who’s been with you for years, communicating with you everyday, is more trustworthy than listening to other people carelessly throw out remarks about something they have no clue about? Basically, are you aware that you shouldn’t listen to anyone who’s got bad things to say about you without getting to know you at least a little? And even the people that you know and trust, do you know that they can sometimes go too far in their remarks as well, saying things that are intentionally or unintentionally harsh and harmful, but nowhere near true?”

“Why do you sound like Yongguk trying to scold me?" he said in a pouty tone, and you knew he was slowly coming back to his regular self again.

"Simply because I used words like "modern society” and “judging without knowing” in one sentence doesn’t mean I sound like Yongguk,” you felt a smile creeping up your face.

"True. Your voice is cuter. But still, your tone was pretty similar to his, and that was weird and scary, don’t do that again please,” you were grinning full force now because he was talking the same way he always did again.
“Glad to see you’re back on earth from planet Mato, Chan," he laughed at that, and so did you. Unbelievable how a tiny speech and a funny comment could turn around the mood for a whole 180° in just seconds. You felt him shift, taking his head off your chest and resting it on the bed, pulling you down so that you would face him.

"Guess what I have in mind?” he asked, smiling a broken smile, dried up tear stains visible and eyes still red, but his tone as sweet as always.

“None of those comments anymore, I hope.”

“Nah,” he answered so casually that it almost made you crack up.


“Yes, and it’s your fault,” he smiled at you, with every passing second his smile becoming less and less broken.

“Usually I wouldn’t let you drink coffee this late, but today wish granted, let’s go get some,” you told him as you were already getting up from the bed, when you suddenly felt him pulling you back, making your body crash into his. You were caught slightly off guard when you fell on top of him, but he seemed to know exactly what he was doing, as his mouth reached for yours and captured it perfectly, his arms holding you as close as possible. You couldn’t help but smile through the kiss, as you thought how childish and immature both of you were acting, but you were glad it was this way. The way he moved, so freely and calmly, showed he was over the wave of sadness that had come over him not long ago, and the intensity of his kisses showed how grateful he was that he had you by his side, always bringing some sense back into his tired brain and his often aching heart. He stopped soon, and you laid there, faces close together and noses touching, as you smiled at each other, just enjoying one another’s presence.

He bit his lip slightly, and, still holding you by the waist with one arm, made both of you sit up. You squeaked slightly as he got up from bed, pulling you along and lifting you up in the process while turning around to go to the kitchen. You squealed and laughed, telling him to put you down and lightly hitting his chest in the process. He refused to do any of your requests though, as he carried you out of the door, his heart beating fast with happiness and his worries and problems (at least for now) completely forgotten.

I’ve decided to attempt to do 50k words of random fics for NaNoWriMo this year, so here’s 7912/50000 of self-indulgent vampire fic to start off~


For centuries, she had waited for this moment. She’d listened to the tug of her heart, anticipating when his existence would torture hers again. A few times, she’d missed the mark and there hadn’t been any space to put plans into motion.

But now, it was finally time.

Lightning glanced at the locket down in her hands. It was open to show the miniature portrait inside. Quite honestly, it was an impressive piece of work, something that people these days would claim had been edited or was fake.

Though it’d been so long, she could still recall every tiny brushstroke, the look in his eyes as he dared to catch her glance, the little smirk…

She made an unimpressed sound and snapped the locket shut. That was in the past. Now, finally, she would get her revenge.

Finally, she would destroy the man that had ruined her life.

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A Better Mother

Optional sequel to “Grand Finale.” While her mother-in-law is helping her through a painful childbirth, a terrified Ashi has to believe in herself that she will be a better mother than her own ever was. Meanwhile, her husband and father-in-law are planning for the child’s education to be just like its father’s. Post-finale rewrite, with a baby who brings joy to all!

FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12526741/1/A-Better-Mother

Characters: Jack, Ashi, The Emperor, The Empress

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Laundry Day

Prompt: Toys

Rating: M (NSFW)

She should have known he’d catch her red-handed.

Postponing laundry day was a mistake. 

It was a huge mistake. 

The worst mistake she has made by far. 

There was no reason outside of pure, unfiltered laziness. Well, and busy with the steady influx of job requests that kept the whole guild busy. Still, she had made a terrible mistake.

Her lax attentions have left her with one too-tight shirt, shorts that she had sworn she got rid of because of their scandalousness, and a bra that was classified as seductive lingerie. All of these she handled. It was the panties that posed the biggest problem.

The only pair of panties left for her while she waited for the wash were black and lacy, not really out of the ordinary for her. The problem was in the design of them…and the battery operated pad that was stitched in along her cleft and down between her folds.

Alas, her negligence had left her with a single pair of vibrating panties until the washer and dryer completed cycles.

She was walking on glass, trying to ignore the fact that she was indeed secretly wearing a sex toy around the entire guild.

It wasn’t like she could do her own laundry at her apartment. The landlady had claimed the machines first and with mountains of clothes; Lucy had no time to wait. There was only this day before the team left for a job tomorrow morning. She’d have to wash, dry, fold, and put away all before the train pulled out of the station.

The only other option was to brave the embarrassment and wash an emergency load at the guild. At least she could try and save face by acting normal. The key was to pretend she wasn’t doing something scandalous.

“Hey Elfman! Have the new jobs been posted?” she asked as casually as she could, approaching the muscled man that was towering over the cork board.

The man glanced at her with a grin, flashing a sheet of parchment that he had just ripped from the board. “It has! Are you man enough for another round of work?” he bellowed, letting her scan the request for a team to run off a flock of bats that were terrorizing a town.

She grinned back, “Aye sir!”

He nodded in satisfaction before turning away, pumping his fists as he went. “Alright! Let’s do this Fairy Tail!” he cried out, the guild echoing cheers in unison.

Laughing, Lucy returned the cheer, feeling that she gained some form of normality. That was, until a light buzz of the vibrator to her cleft stole the breath from her lungs, crippling her legs with pleasure. She crumpled down with a heavy gasp, fingers gripping her thighs harshly.

‘Whoa! Are you okay, Lucy?!” Gray yelped, leaping to her side from the table he sat at, hands hovering carefully over her shoulders. Even Jet and Droy pressed forward in concern, them being the second closest to her.

Aside from the suffocating horror that her panties were probably malfunctioning, Lucy desperately grasped for any lie to escape the truth. “I-I’m f-fine!” Her hands struggled to even move from her legs and accept the help the men were offering. “I t-think I tripped!”

She staggered up, smiling at the concerned looks, “Seriously, it was an accident! I’m fine!”

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theemoestdemon  asked:

I absolutely loved the feral Tom fic you wrote for me! It really cheered me up and made my day a lot better. Since you mentioned Tom scratching up Marco's furniture, could you do a fic on that? (Maybe Marco decides to get him a scratching post so his furniture doesn't get torn to shreds lol) I also loved the part where Tom clung on to his arm, that was really cute and I could totally see him doing that. :3

Awww, thank you so much! I’m so happy you liked the story, I worked really hard on that one! I’m sorry this took so long, but I was dealing with some stuff in my family. I’m trying to get back into writing, thinking it’ll cheer me up. I know it will, but it might take some time. So be patient, but don’t be discouraged! Your requests mean the world to me and I love getting them, but I just need a little more time than normally.

“MARCO GET THIS CAT OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Angie screamed. She was holding Tom by the shoulders, and the demon looked very guilty. Marco could hardly stifle a laugh as his mother le his boyfriend down and the demon scampered to peer out from behind the kitchen table.

“What did he do this time?” Marco asked.

“That little creature of your clawed up the new couch cushion.” Angie seethed at the demon who ran to be behind Marco. Marco laughed and gave Tom a hug.

“Aw, mom. He didn’t mean to.” Marco gushed. “He just has claws and sometimes they scratch things.” He defended. Tom purred and moved closer to Marco, nuzzling his hair. Marco giggled and Angie rolled her eyes. She then marched back into the the living room and tossed the cushion at Tom.

“Fix it!” She demanded.

“I don’t know how to sew.” Tom told her.

“Figure it out.” She told the demon. Tom nodded.

“Yes ma’am.” He obeyed and the woman patted him on the head before leaving. Marco laughed and Tom sat on the bar stool, trying to find a way to fix it. The human shook his head and got up, he got Tom a needle and thread and the demon began to try and sew up the pillow.

“You’re so cute.” Marco giggled. Tom stopped fiddling with the pillow and blushed deeply. He then looked down at his work and tried to hide his face, that was rapidly reddening. Marco giggled and took Tom by the hands. “Here, you’ll never sew it up like that. Let me help.” He offered. Tom coughed nervously and nodded.

“Th-thanks.” He mumbled. Marco smiled and showed Tom how to sew up the slashes from his claws.

“Do you get it?” Marco asked. Tom nodded and Marco took his hands away, letting Tom continue to sew on his own. He did so for a while before smiling proudly and holding up the pillow. Marco looked up and felt a big smile form on his face. The pillow looked awful, and it was sewn in all the wrong places.

“How’s it going in here?” Angie asked, stepping in the room. She was finishing up some work on her phone, so she didn’t see the pillow at once. Tom scrambled off the couch and ran up to her, holding the pillow out with a big smile on his face.

“Angie look! I fixed it!” He exclaimed proudly. Angie looked up and saw the disaster of a pillow in the demon’s hands. As soon as she was silent, Tom’s smile faded away. “Oh… It’s… it’s not too good, is it? I-I’m not so good at this I can… if I try again I’ll just mess up again so I’ll just buy a new pillow.” He offered.

“No!” Angie took it from him. “No, no, sweetie this is perfect!” She smiled. Tom’s ears perked up and he then got the most excited look on his face. “You did a great job, and thank you for trying your best.” She made sure to tell him. Tom looked like he was just given the world. He looked back and forth between Angie and Marco before running over to the couch and tackling Marco in a hug.

Angie smiled softly as she saw her son hold the demon and how happy they made each other. Tom looked so thrilled about the positive attention he was given. The poor demon was always starved for some sort of affection and acknowledgement. It made Angie feel sorry for him. She walked over and scooped him up in a hug.

“Marco, you made an excellent choice.” She spoke. Marco blushed violently as his mother hugged his boyfriend. “And Tom, you’re going to take good care of our Marco, right?” She asked. Marco groaned and shoved his face in the pillow, blushing furiously. Tom nodded and crawled over to cuddle against Marco.

“Uh-huh.” He promised. “Marco’s a real keeper.” Tom winked at the human, who tackled him down in a hug as soon as his mother left the room. The two continued to playfully push each other over and laugh together. Until Marco jumped on Tom.

The demon  looked up and Marco gave him a kiss on the nose. Tom blushed so deep and Marco lept off of him, right before Tom ignited in embarrassed fire. He looked away, flustered, before jumping off the couch. “I-I burnt up the couch again.” Tom coughed. Marco nodded and rushed some of the ash off the couch.

“Sorry about that.” Marco rubbed the back of his head. Tom shook his head.

“No, no. You should be able to kiss me without me freaking out.” Tom agreed. “I just… you know. I just freak out… you won’t tell anyone, right?” He asked, very shy and nervous. Marco laughed lightly and pulled Tom into a hug.

“Of course not, sweetie.” He assured. Tom smiled and latched himself onto Marco, enjoying the warm hug. “Uh… Tom?” Marco spoke a little nervous.

“Hmm?” Tom hummed.

“Your um… your claws are digging into my hoodie.” Marco spoke. Tom looked up and retracted his claws as to not scratch hic boyfriend.

“Right… sorry.”

Double Agent Vader Fic: Shape-Changer

*casually drops in after a week’s absence with surprise fic*

So I didn’t think I would ever write the beginning of Vader’s double agent career, but marajadesbutt sent me an ask about what Anakin’s initial motivation for turning double agent was, and to my surprise, fic happened.

I pondered a lot of different ways all of this could have started, but ultimately, Anakin rebuilds himself in the image of the survival narratives of Tatooine slavery. So it seemed fitting that everything should begin with a story.

(Also ftr I’m going with the idea that Palpatine actually drained Padmé’s life force to keep Anakin alive, since imo that makes the most sense of how Palpatine knows that she’s dead at all.)

His Master liked to say that Vader was born in fire on Mustafar. But Ekkreth was born in the desert.



Tatooine hadn’t changed.

The suns still blazed, and the heat still beat down, and the sand still got everywhere. That last, especially, was true. Vader could feel it grinding against his metal bones.

He didn’t feel the heat anymore, not within this climate controlled life support suit. And he didn’t feel the burning of the suns, either, or need to shield his eyes against the light or his skin against the biting wind. But he still felt the sand. That would never change.

He almost welcomed it.

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