#rens drabbles

[darklordreni]

New Smut drabble!

Go check it out if you feel so enclined <3

Tags: Deeptroating, Blackmail, and more! (mind the tags)

Sun x Reader

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[witchofren]

Alright folks

I’m trying to get back into writing more consistently (sorry, Mint Ice Cream & Bubblegum Kisses. I promise you’ll get more attention than I’ve given you recently)

I’m opening requests!

Drabbles will be between 400-500 words. Basically what I can write in 20 minutes.

Head canons are a crap shoot. I may elaborate on certain things, but they won’t be longer than 400 words.

Longer requests will take time. Most likely won’t be out today.

RULES:

I am not going to write out abuse of any kind, torture, s*lf h*rm,su**ide, or graphic trauma to the hands/eyes.

I am willing to write 18+ works. For drabbles, it will only be suggested. For head canons, it won’t be too graphic. I am not accepting longer work requests for this at the moment. I have too many of my own I’m working on.

I don’t mind kinks. But I will NOT write: DDLG/MDLG (daddy/mommy kink), harsh degradation, large age gaps (ex: dad’s best friend), or anything involving blood.

I have the right to refuse any request if I am uncomfortable or don’t wish to write it.

Characters I am writing for:

Marvel

Bucky Barnes (x any gender reader and Velika Dante King - OC)

Steve Rogers (x any gender reader and Natasha Romanoff/another character. Not Stucky - sorry)

Natasha Romanoff (x any gender reader and another character)

Loki Laufeyson (x any gender reader and another character - not Thorki. Except as brotherly cuteness.)

Peter Parker (x any gender reader)

Sam Wilson (x any gender reader - no SamBucky, sorry.)

Ask! I’m open to trying anything :)

Attack on Titan

Levi Ackerman (x any gender reader and Kailani Wilde - OC)

Eren Jaeger (x any gender reader and another character - not Levi. No budging there.)

Mikasa Ackerman (x any gender reader and another character)

Jean Kirschtein (x any gender reader and another character)

Erwin Smith (x any gender reader and another character)

Hanji Zoe (x any gender reader and another character)

Ask! I’m willing to try anything :)

Submissions

Tell me the character

Add your prompt (song, scenarios, etc)

Universe if applicable (modern au?)

Specify if it’s a head canon, Drabble, or a longer work :)

[between-two-fandoms]

Would you possibly be willing to write a headcannon/blurb thing about how EJ or Ricky (its up to you) would be with a girl who has severe anxiety?

TW ANXIETY

Hi anon!

Thanks for the ask friendo!

OC time? OC time! FOC brainchild time let's go friendos!!!! Not really a hc list but I hope u still like it!

Mwah mwah,

Ren

--

EJ could sense it. Anxiety was one of his closest friends after all. He exchanged a look at Ricky then glanced at the door a girl disappeared behind. "Come on," EJ said quietly, tugging Ricky along as he ducked into the empty classroom. "Hello?" EJ called out, concern in his voice. He didnt have to go far before seeing the poor girl shaking like a leaf.

Ricky beat him to her, already on his knees at her side. "Hey - your name's Kylie right?" He asked. EJ realized he could recognize her too, from their shared history class. She nods and shakes her head when Ricky tries to touch her.

"Kylie can you hear us?" EJ asked in a low voice, setting his bag on the ground as he sat next to Ricky.

Kylie nodded, her arms wrapped around herself tightly. EJ winced when he saw her fingernails impailing her muscle. "Can you take a deep breath for me? Just follow my lead," he shot Ricky a look that warned him to stay quiet. Kylie nodded and hiccuped on her inhale but EJ kept up his pattern. Eventually Kylie called down enough to breathe on her own again.

"Thank you," she said quietly, flickering her eyes up to meet EJ's. EJ nodded in response. "I should... I need to get to the nurse." Ricky nodded and he and EJ helped her stand to her feet again. She let them walk her to the hallway but insisted she would be fine by herself so they both watched her turn the corner, leaving their line of sight.

[darklordreni]

What's that? I wrote a 10k word chapter to a new story that's just an excuse for smut? Whaaaaaaaaaaaat?

Anyway yeah I just posted it go check it out <3

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[loyaltybringsitsownhell]

Call me - battlefield (knightofhonnleath)

There was blood on her face and hands, and she wasn’t sure whose. The staff she held was slippery with it, and her grip tightened so as not to lose it. Creators, something hurt. She’d been separated at some point, a swarm of them cutting her off from the group. She was strong, and had held up well, most of her enemies lay dead on the ground, but even Wardens had their limits. 

She screamed as she felt a blade swing into her side, cutting through the leather of her armor. The last enemy had gotten in on her blind side. She forgot her own limitations sometimes. As they swung back out to finish her, she held up the bladed end of her staff, forcing it under their helmet and sending lightning through their skull. She growled as she pulled it back out again, stumbling to her knees even as the corpse crumpled under its own weight. 

She used her staff as a crutch, moving away. It looked like the battle was almost over, thank the Creators. She needed a nap. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the searing pain in her side. Her hand went to it, and came back covered in blood. Creators, that was coming too fast to be healthy. Considering she could still stand she assumed it hadn’t pierced anything vital, but elgar’nan...

She managed to crawl forward, half on her knees, half limping along with her staff. She’d sustained worse, but she was the only healer, and her mana was drained from battle. She just needed to make it back to the group. Just a little further. She could see them in the distance. Cullen’s damn lion helmet was distinctive across the short distance. He had his back turned to her, slashing and stabbing away at any enemy that came close. He looked unhurt, and the last of his opponents were coming down. 

Her vision was getting blurry, and she crumpled against the rock beneath her, holding her side like maybe, just maybe, she could stop the blood flow with just her hands. Fenhedas, that would be her luck. To get this far, so close to ending the Calling once and for all, and to die from a stab wound. 

She couldn’t quite remember who they were fighting. Bandits? Qunari? Tevinters? Who in the void knew, she couldn’t focus, and everyone she’d ever fought was blurring together into a sea of red before her very eyes. They were a sentient race anyway, she knew that. 

She could see him now, finally turning around and seeing her bleeding out on the stone. He was running over, and she reached out. Creators...she’d finally been happy. Felt like she had someone to live for, to come home to. After every battle, every piece of paperwork or screaming noble, she had him to come home to. Wasn’t that the point. She thought she said his name, screamed it out when he turned to her. She didn’t know. He was saying hers. She could hear it, though everything felt like it was behind some sort of wall now. No, she wouldn’t die here. She refused. She looked up and could just make out his eyes behind the helmet. They were very pretty eyes. 

She had just enough mana now to try. Small spurts of magic from her hands, trying desperately to knit together her flesh. He was calling someone over, very pretty eyes. 

And the world went dark.

[loyaltybringsitsownhell]

“Get Me”

He felt sometimes that he had only one hand on the wheel in all of this. This warden business, the ruling, the taint. He couldn’t do it all. He wanted to sit down for once, with a book. But no. 

Instead he was running around like a chicken with his head cut off, and getting himself and Falkor into trouble, simply by existing. It was…exhausting, to say the least. Falkor had been through enough without these Creators damned nobility with a grudge coming for him. 

Apparently, it wasn’t enough to have the occasional assassin on the Arl’s tail, no, now someone had decided one way to force the elvehn mage to step down would be to kill his lover. They expected that in his grief, Keren would simply leave, perhaps die himself. It had almost killed him when Falkor had gone missing, when they’d thought the Templars had slaughtered him. Perhaps his actual death would finish the job. 

No. Keren had been through too much to let an assassin even get close, and the second he heard someone moving in their chambers, heard Falkor’s strangled scream, he was in the room, ready to kill whatever had come for him. 

Falkor was doing better, and could fight for himself most of the time now, but some days he was in worse shape than others. Some days the nightmares caught up, and he would spend a lot of the time in bed. It wasn’t a set back, simply a symptom of healing. This too would pass, and as the episodes of doubt and fear grew fewer and more spread out, Keren took hope in their disappearance. 

This assassin seemed to have been waiting for an episode, when Falkor’s emotions would cripple his ability to strike back, damage his reflexes. He’d already gotten one swipe in on his leg when Keren got there. 

He didn’t have a staff, and Keren’s magic wasn’t the strongest, more adept to a scholar than a warrior like his sister, but the wardens made him strong enough to fight this seth’lin. 

Keren didn’t say a word, lightning arching from his fingers, striking the man in the chest. He didn’t let up until the killer fell to his knees, eyes bulging from his head, going stiff from the shock. He didn’t stop until all that was left was a smoking corpse, like lightning had reached down and smote him from on high. Keren’s magic wasn’t strong, but it could be sustained, and if he used it right, very deadly. 

He quickly moved to his lover’s side, ripping a piece of cloth from his robes and tying it around his leg to stem the bleeding. “Vhenan, emma lath, look at me. You’re safe, you’re alright, I promise.”

He called down the hall for a healer, watching the guard who’d run when the screaming began turn and go in the opposite direction to find one. Keren lifted Falkor in his arms and brought him to the bed. In any other situation, when fear wasn’t clawing at the Warden’s throat, he would revel in how heavy Falkor had gotten, the muscle and weight he’d put on a welcome change from the gaunt man he’d found half dead so long ago. 

He stayed with him the rest of the day, having the seneschal bring work to him in bed once the healer had helped Falkor, wrapped around his lover as though his own body could shield him from everything that had happened. He would. He would protect Falkor until the day his calling came, and if there was an afterlife, he would protect him from afar after he died. The shifter deserved no less. Keren would not lose him again. 

[loyaltybringsitsownhell]

They find it In a trap door under what’s left of what the locals call “The Vigil”, the book they’d been searching for for years.

The Codex of The Hero of Ferelden. 

Long has the magic held, but magic can be broken, and the archeologist opens the fabeled tome. 

...”What the fuck.”

The first 20 pages are just descriptions of dogs, what they can’t eat, how they bond, lists of the Hero’s dogs...

A ridiculous amount of dogs. 

[loyaltybringsitsownhell]

Unattainable promises

When I was a little girl my father told me to never make a promise I couldn't keep, but to always keep them when I made them. Bit of a paradox but it made sense at the time. When I came to this realm I honestly didn't know what to think. I spent three days working my way around and often getting odd looks from other people since I was dressed in leather armor. Eventually I found a few items of clothes more like everyone else's but it was still...odd. Now this was around...2006 I believe. I had made a small fire in an abandoned parking lot because it was cold, and I had no money. Next thing I know there is a guy, tall, blondish-hair with green eyes and some pretty decent features...pointing a gun at my face. (I'd learned enough about weapons in a few days, I knew it was lethal) I expected to be shot when I just told him to go ahead. I didn't care if I lived or died at this point, all my life I'd been running and working and doing everything for people who wanted me dead...I was done. But when he saw that he lowered his gun. We ended up talking for a while before he left, and I stood there, just trying to figure out what had just happened. I met his brother a little while after, and I learned both their names. Sam and Dean Winchester. Sam was almost imediatly kind to me...Dean took a bit to warm up more than not shooting me. Castiel became my friend as well, and as I learned to fit in with their society (though I still don't understand most of it) I ran into those three more often than not. Eventually I learned to hunt and worked my way from there. Eventually I started hunting with the boys...though more often it was Dean. I don't quite remember how I ended up going home for a year...but a hell of a lot happened. The apocalypse ended for one, Dean had a normal life for two, for three...Sam was dead and then wasn't...four...I came back when Sam had no soul and Dean was trying to make his lives coincide. I kept out of the way a lot for that. It was none of my business, and looking back I'll admit I was a little jealous. It ended in ruin though, and I felt nothing but awful for my friend. On the bright side, Sam had a soul again, and Eve died. It was a slow going after that. For a while I became part of the group, and that's where I've stayed actually. Dean and I became well... There were a few small kisses that came from no where and went no where, then thete was one which lasted forever and felt like it would never end. It was touch and go for a while, we both knew there was something but neither of us were willing to admit it. Well I sort of did, I'd been calling him vhenan'ara for a bit when the Taint caught up to me. I was pale and sick, and so far from home it was killing me fast. I came to him to say goodbye. This was late 2012. I ended up telling him what vhenan'ara meant: heart's desire. Because I couldn't go without saying it. He told me...he told me he felt the same. It was a really bad time to break that barrier down, but in all honesty, I had gotten involved with a Winchester. Bad timjng is a e tried to get me home before I died...we were so close. We were feet away when we both collapsed to the ground, I died there, and I remember him crying. My spirit got home at least. I wandered our version of the after life, the Fade, for a while, and then one day I just woke up. I'm not quite sure what happened, I only know a name, Mythal. Which is the Great Protector where I'm from...this may come back to bite me in the ass but right now it's better not to think on it. Eventually I found my way back to the modern world, and the first thing I did was find the bunker again. Find the boys...find him. Of course he didn't take it very well at first, kept saying people just don't come back to life...hypocrite Eventually he calmed down and we probably should have talked through what had happened. We didn't. I'm not sure how we ended up just picking up where we left off but we did. Time went on for us, I remember one night he was freaking out over losing someone else. It might have been Kevin. There's been so many I can't remember. He thought he'd lost me to. That was the night I first made that promise, that stupid promise that neither of us could ever truly keep. Still okay? I kept making that promise, little things, big things, it became something we always said, that we always would say. No matter what happened we would still be okay. Well that's not completely true. Abadon happened, Metatron happened. A blade made of bone and a curse to go with it. He went a little crazy, understatement actually, he went insane. Obsessed with this blade and it's power, it controlled him. He hurt me a few times, grabbed my arm to roughly, squeezed to hard in his madness. Yet somehow I stayed, because this wasn't him, but sometimes it was. Bursts of the man I'd stuck around for years now. It was 2014 when he died. I didn't take it well. His brother didn't either. I didn't find out until after the fact. His brother told me and yes, I was devastated. It was like someone had ripped my heart in half and run over it with a truck. Because I loved Dean Winchester. Still do. Which sucks for me because he's not dead, again. Nope, now he's got black eyes and no soul yet somehow he still gives a damn. Somehow he kept that stupid promise. So I guess I should too. Unattainable promises... ...at this point keeping them to the grave is to short a time.