#veraspromptchallenge2018

[cosmicyachi]

Iwaizumi with 11, 3 and Oikawa with 30 (for @varialoverfran )

Oikawa with 25 and Kindaichi with 24

Matsukawa with 30 (for @noodlesyo) and Kyoutani with 13

Send me a number and character and I’ll color a panel! Do not send any more!

[petri808]

Short Drabble

@fic-writer-appreciation NaLu AU

As the couple lays on the roof of the dorm’s building staring up at the stars, Natsu turns to his girl, “Luce, do you believe in aliens?”

“You mean like little green men from Mars, no I don’t,” turning to face him, “why?”

“I think It’d be cool to meet the Guardians of the Galaxy,” his eyes sparkling with excitement, “especially Gamora cause she’s hot!”

“You do realize those are fictional characters, right, like movie make believe?”

He chuckles and grins wide, “you’re such a weirdo Luce, Star Lords from Earth so he might come back one day!”

She blinks, “you’re not serious, are you?”

“Of course not,” Natsu turns back to the stars still smiling, “I’m not that big of an idiot, but it would be cool if it really happened.”

“In that case I agree it would be cool,” dreamy sigh, “cause Chris Pratt is a fox.”

Gasp! “Is that so!” He turns and starts tickling Lucy’s sides, “is he cuter than your boyfriend?!”

“Stop it Natsu,” giggling, gasping for air, “you said Gamora was hot!”

“Yeah but I was playing around!” Increasing his tickle torture. “You sounded serious!”

“Please stop,” curling to a ball, her stomach hurts from all the laughing. “You’re cuter than Pratt!”

“Sexier than Star Lord?” Tickle. “Say I’m sexier than him.”

“Okay, Okay! Natsu you’re way sexier than Star Lord!”

“That’s what I thought,” pulling her into a kiss. “Can’t have my girlfriend taking off in some space ship, now can I.” Grin

“Nope you’re stuck we me,” Lucy kisses him back and giggles, “but now if Thor showed up...”

“What!”

@random-rave

[words-are-like-colors]

“Do you trust me?” [March 5th]

This is my first entry for @fic-writer-appreciation ‘s month of May theme list. Please enjoy!

Title: "Do you trust me?”

Rating: General Category: M/M Relationship: Klance Characters: Keith, Lance Additional Tags: hesitated kiss

Word Count: 257

"Do you trust me?" He asks. Keith's skin was soft as he ran his fingers across his cheek so he could gently cup it. His eyes were wide and panicky, but the dark grey-purple color emitted from his irises were absolutely beautiful and inviting.

"Lance--"

"Do you?" Again, he asks, but he was already moving. Their hair touched and foreheads brushed. He could practically feel Keith holding his breath, but neither of them pulled away. He was close, all he had to do is lean forward and press their lips together but no, he had to wait and know what he was doing was correct.

"Keith?" The man in question shuttered as Lance breathed his name, each syllable hitting with small yet thunderous notes.

Fingers itched up into his hair, crawling until they had a gentle hold on the back of his neck. The feeling of Keith so close and holding him yet so far made Lance's mind spin like a top. God, when did Keith become a puppet master? Taking him by the strings and pulling his heart so violently that they had landed here. Keith was a damn king of this puppet kingdom in Lance's heart.

He was in the middle of uttering a faint pleasing when his mind and heart were sent trembling by what Keith said. He felt lips against his own and the hand tightening ever so slightly on his nape. Drowning in trust and feelings, so deep that neither of them would want to ever surface.

"Yes, I trust you, Lance."

[sabinasanfanfic]

Call of the Fighters - Part I

This is part of @fic-writer-appreciation‘s March AU challenge, and is a prompt for Day 9 (Historical) and Day 17 (Military). I’m also using this as a little nod to my Irish heritage in time for St. Patrick’s Day. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday April 24, 1916

Hijikata put the final touches on his poem, leaving his notebook open for her to read it once she awoke. He set his fountain pen aside and rose from the desk, straightening his long-sleeved, button-down shirt as he did so. He glanced over to the corner by the window where his messenger bag waited for him.

He had resolved to do this—to participate in this failure of an insurrection. The rebels had been unsuccessful in obtaining the needed weaponry, and it was certain the British were aware that a plot was underway, though it was possible they didn’t know the timing. Despite the odds being stacked against them, the leaders decided to continue. They wanted to send a message that it was high time Ireland had her freedom.

He grabbed his messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder, glancing back at the closed bedroom door. He could very well die, and he had made sure to spend what could have been his final evening with Chizuru—letting her know that he loved her. He had waited until she had fallen asleep to take his leave because he knew she wanted to go with him, and he couldn’t allow that. He wanted her to be safe, and he couldn’t guarantee that he would leave this battle alive. If he couldn’t ensure his own safety, he was sure he couldn’t do the same for her.

Hijikata regretfully left the tiny house and walked to the corner of the cobblestone street where his closest friend stood by a street sign, waiting for him. At the sound of his footsteps echoing off the buildings lining the narrow street, the man turned and shot Hijikata a warm smile upon recognizing who was approaching.

“All set?” Kondō asked.

Hijikata gave a swift nod before they both crossed the street side-by-side. Hijikata was acutely aware of his surroundings, listening for any indications that someone else was out in the dead of night with them. Thankfully, neither he nor Kondō had weapons on them. It might have drawn unwanted attention.

“We’ve been ordered to go to Liberty Hall to receive our assignments. Rumor has it we’ll be under the command of Seán Connolly.”

“Do we have numbers?”

Kondō shook his head. “MacNeill’s order seems to have caused some confusion. Heisuke asked if everything was canceled all together.”

Hijikata scoffed. “MacNeill’s an idiot. He was just waiting for an excuse to delay, and once he found out the weapons didn’t make it from Germany...”

“He has a point. It does make our position difficult.”

“That’s why we just have to destroy their arms and take over Dublin Castle.”

Kondō sighed. “We’ll have to see if that’s even possible. Who knows how many will turn out.”

“I’m glad we can rely on our men.”

The conversation ceased as the two continued their trek to Liberty Hall. The enormity of the their undertaking hit Hijikata. The Irish had spent decades utilizing political means to peacefully gain independence with the introduction of the Home Rule Bill. Twice it had been defeated, but it seemed the third attempt would be successful. It had passed in 1914, and it appeared to Hijikata that it would be the beginning steps to independence, even if the Northern Irish weren’t on board.

But Home Rule never came. Shortly before its implementation, Britain declared war on Germany, and Parliament decreed that Home Rule would not come into effect until the end of the war. Hijikata had watched in dismay while the majority of the Irish supported the British war effort and even called for men to join the British army. All he could see was yet another delay tactic—another effort of Parliament to deny the Irish what they had been wanting for centuries.

It was disgust that led to Hijikata jumping at the opportunity to participate in armed rebellion. He knew that many of the Irish Republican Brotherhood and the Irish Volunteers didn’t agree with the timing, as they were waiting for a good reason to call for insurrection. Hijikata couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t want to take advantage of a time when Britain was distracted and had pulled the majority of their forces out of Ireland.

Cowards…the whole lot of them, he inwardly growled. Short-sighted, risk-averting…

Hijikata’s thoughts abruptly wandered to the woman he left behind, and he felt a twinge of guilt at that. He had come to terms with the very real possibility that he could die, and he had done what he could to be sure Chizuru would be provided for. He knew that she understood his desire to take part in the rising, but he was also aware that Chizuru yearned for him to remain at her side. She loved him, and she didn’t want anything terrible to befall him.

Little flashes of their last moments together came to his mind, and Hijikata found comfort in the memory of the feel of her naked body pressed to his as she cried out her release. If anything, he was grateful he had that opportunity to show her how much he loved her before he left. He wanted to live so that he could return to her, but Ireland had to come first.

Kondō and Hijikata reached Liberty Hall, and a young boy no more than ten was seated on the front stoop dressed in uniform with a rifle clutched in his arms. Based on the boy’s hold on the weapon, Hijikata wondered how much training the lad had in its use. The boy was listless—probably from staying up late into the night—making Hijikata smile fondly at the sight of the slumped over figure. Kondō crouched low in front of the boy.

“How long have you been out here?”

The boy sat up, his spine completely straight and his eyes more alert. “I don’t know, sir. But I was awake, sir! I swear!”

Kondō chuckled. “I know. I’ll see if we can find a replacement for you so you can get some rest.”

The boy’s frame slumped once more with relief. “Thank you, sir!”

Kondō ruffled the boy’s hair with some affection before he rose to his full height, and the pair made their way into the building. Up the narrow stairs and to the left was a wide, open room. In the center was a table where six men sat. Others were gathered in groups around the room either talking or resting against the walls. Off in the corner was a crude mattress where a man lay sleeping. Hijikata knew that the man was Joseph Plunkett, who probably needed the rest before things got underway. He had to give the man credit for wanting to fight despite the worsening of his tuberculosis. Hijikata briefly wondered if Plunkett—as someone who would understand the young man’s similar feelings about the illness and desire to fight—had spoken to Souji at all.

“Ah, welcome, gentlemen!” a man with dark hair slicked back, large nose, and serious eyes greeted as he stood. Hijikata immediately recognized Padraic Pearse, the leader of it all. “I’m glad you came.” A pause. “Where are the rest of your men?”

“We decided to come in waves in order to avoid suspicion,” Hijikata reported.

“Smart,” Seán Connolly replied with an approving smile. “I’m fortunate to have men like you under my command.”

“How is he?” Kondō inquired, jerking his head towards the sleeping Plunkett.

Pearse glanced Plunkett’s way before shaking his head. “Some days are better than others. Who knows what he’ll be like in a few hours.”

Hijikata acknowledged the statement with a nod. Souji was in a much better spot in terms of his tuberculosis when compared to Plunkett—the man’s illness being far more advanced than Souji’s—and Hijikata was sympathetic to the man’s suffering. He hoped that Plunkett would feel well enough to fight. At this point, they needed every man they could get.

He stepped away from the table to allow Kondō to talk among the leaders. Hijikata wandered to another corner where some rifles were stored. He decided to go through them and be sure they were in working order. As he dug through the long wooden boxes, he realized just how short they were on arms, and a sort of resignation settled within him. While a very small part of him hoped for victory, he knew the odds were stacked against them.

Soon, he was joined by Saitō, who took a keen interest in caring for weaponry. Hijikata greeted him with some enthusiasm, though exhaustion was beginning to creep in.

“The others?”

“Shinpachi, Heisuke, and Harada are on their way up. I think they were debating who would relieve the child at the front door. Sannan, Gen, and Souji are over with Kondō discussing the plans.”

Hijikata’s attention returned to the rifle he had just pulled out of the box, finishing his inspection. “Did you see anyone else coming?”

Saitō shook his head. “But it’s early.”

No more was said between the pair as they continued their task. When all the weapons had been checked, Hijikata and Saitō returned them to the boxes. By this time, Kondō approached them with a wane smile on his face.

“We will be under Seán Connolly. We are tasked with going to City Hall to overtake the Castle. We will be joined by some of the Cumann na mBan,” Kondō reported.

“Do we know when?”

“Close to midday. Pearse wants to wait a few more hours before making any major moves. He wants to give people more time to get here. We’ll follow Pearse and some of the others to the GPO for the proclamation and then we will march to City Hall.”

Hijikata sighed, running a hand over his face in an attempt to chase away his fatigue. When he peered up at Kondō once more, he saw the fond smile on the man’s lips. He gave a quick smile in return before looking away.

“You should get some rest.”

Hijikata originally planned on telling Kondō no, but he could barely see straight, and his concentration was waning. He sighed and glanced over at Saitō. The young man was looking to him for guidance, but he also suspected Saitō was expecting Hijikata to give in to Kondō. Hijikata sighed and returned his gaze to Kondō.

“Yeah. I’ll get some sleep.”

Hijikata shifted so that he was leaning against the wall. Kondō walked away, and Hijikata presumed it was to tell the others to rest as well. He stared out into the hall, suddenly feeling a burst of energy that would make it difficult for him to fall asleep. He forced himself to close his eyes, and his thoughts drifted to Chizuru, who was probably still curled up in their bed. The mental image of her in peaceful slumber made his breathing slow.

How he wanted her near! She was a steadfast presence in his life—she never failed to calm him when he was overwhelmed—and he wanted that now to ease the knots that had twisted his stomach. But, he was also aware that it was selfish for him to want that when what he was embarking on was dangerous. And the last thing he wanted to do was put Chizuru in harm’s way.

His thoughts continued to swirl around her, and he realized after some time that his body had relaxed and his stomach settled. He drifted into a light sleep. He was vaguely aware of what was going on around him, but it wasn’t enough to disturb him too much. As the hours ticked away, he was dimly aware of an increase in the buzz of conversation and the footsteps of more people on the wooden floor.

He finally opened his eyes, squinting as bright sunlight assaulted him. He blinked a few times until he was used to the light, and he peered around the room. There were definitely more people like he had suspected, which was a small relief. He continued to take stock of the scene to get a better idea of how many people were there. Some were preparing their rifles while others were receiving instructions from leaders.

Hijikata stretched, his muscles feeling tight and heavy from his slumber. He looked to his left and saw Saitō was already alert. Hijikata wasn’t the least bit surprised by that. He stood and straightened out his clothes, wondering what time it was and where they all were in the planning stages. As he gazed around the room, he realized that their numbers were still small.

He then went searching for Kondō, eventually finding him toward the back of the room with Seán Connolly. Souji stood off to the side, his arms crossed against his chest and his eyes narrowed. Kondō turned and acknowledged Hijikata.

“Toshi. We’ll soon be marching to the GPO for the declaration. We’re handing out what weapons we have. Make sure you get one, and gather our men.”

Hijikata felt the knots return to his stomach. This was the moment—there was no turning back. He went back to the spot where he had been sleeping to pass on the orders to Satiō and to distribute weapons. He took deep breaths through his nose to calm his stomach. Now wasn’t the time to show fear. Now it was time to do what he had set out to do.

Everyone prepared quickly, and shortly before midday, the group of about 400 marched across the street to the GPO. Along the way, several members of the group broke off to paste copies of the Proclamation of the Republic for the citizenry to read.

Hijikata was looking forward to hearing Pearse read the Proclamation with their flags flying above them. He imagined the great impact it would have on everyone around them, and he felt his heart swell in his chest at how inspiring it would all be. When they drew close to the GPO, Hijikata caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned to see Seán Connolly breaking off from the group. The man motioned for the rest to follow. Hijikata was confused but followed the unspoken order.

“We’re going to start heading toward City Hall. We need to catch them unawares as much as possible!”

Hijikata waved for the rest to follow him, and soon the relatively small group was crossing the bridge over the River Liffey. As they passed by people in the streets, Hijikata could see a mixture of surprise and fear on the countless faces. He heard some shout at them, wondering where they were going with their guns.

Soon, City Hall loomed before them, and Hijikata could see that it was quiet. He immediately grew suspicious—where were the British troops that were left to guard Dublin? They should’ve known the rising was coming! 

“You men, over to City Hall!” Seán called out as he pointed to Kondō, Hijikata, and the others. “Set up for a siege of the castle!”

As they split off from the group, Hijikata looked back to see Seán with about half of the group charge at the gate. Hijikata heard the distinctive pop of gunfire as he returned his attention to where he was going. They continued to hear gunshots as they gained entry to City Hall. Hijikata stood by the door to be sure each of his men made it safely in. He then remembered that there were supposed to be members of Cumann na Ban joining them, and he wondered where they were.

At that moment, Hijikata heard the sound of masonry cracking and caught the movement of flying debris and dust out of the corner of his eye. He immediately looked around to see where the shot came from while crouching. He began to prepare to fire off his own gun if need be. It was quiet for a few seconds before he heard more gunshots coming from above him. Hijikata glanced upward, wondering who was firing, and if the British had taken over City Hall before they had.

The change in his attention was a mistake.

More gunshots rang out, and Hijikata heard a bullet whizz by his ear. Hijikata dodged to his right and took a bullet to his left bicep. He let out a cry as he instinctively dropped his rifle so his right hand could cover the wound. He could feel the warmth of his blood slide down his fingers to his wrist to soak into the cuff of his sleeve. Hijikata swore under his breath as he looked up and caught sight of a few British soldiers heading his way with their guns poised to fire.

He heard more gunshots come from behind him, and the shout of a female voice. “Get in here!”

He couldn’t quite make out the voice over the ringing in his ears, but he knew if he wanted to stay alive, he needed to move indoors out of the line of fire. As he scrambled to get up, he felt a pair of tiny hands grab him by the right arm and drag him backwards.

Hijikata let out an indignant shout as he was pulled through the doorway, and his body was slammed up against the wall. The surroundings were dimly lit, and it took some time for his eyes to adjust to his new surroundings. He let out another moan as he slowly slid to the floor. More gunshots sounded from beside him, and he looked that way to see who had come to his rescue.

Hijikata’s heart stuttered at the sight of a familiar woman dressed in a man’s uniform standing in the open doorway, firing at the incoming British soldiers.

“Chizuru!”

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

Tagging: @shell-senji, @kondo-hijikata, @eheartangel, @hakuyamazakisensei, @hidetheremote, @resshiiram, @hakuouki-or-hakuoki, @lescahiersdesable, @flower-dragon, @jellyfish-wish, @trashmonster06, @enby-peep, @emmalanna. If you wish to be added or removed from my tag list, please message me!

[nalufever]

January Drabbles: adventure, starting over

Fairy Tail, Nalu

"We did my Star Trek role play fantasy last time, so this means you get to choose, Natsu." Lucy pressed into Natsu's side as they snuggled on the couch. "Anything you got a hankering for?"

"Mostly you," Natsu grinned and dropped a kiss on Lucy's forehead. "Mmmm," he mused, "We've gone through all the usual scenarios this month. We should start over from the top of the list."

"You mean, tonight we play Adventure Island?" Lucy giggled, crossing her legs and smiled brightly at Natsu. "You do rock the leather jacket, fedora and whip rather nicely."

"True," agreed Natsu, "and you rock my world."

[emmalanna]

Frebruary writing challenge ! (13)

Okay, so after deep thoughts I finally decided to write something ^^

I chose the prompt 13. Love letter/confession. I know I’m not doing this in order I’m so so sorry

I’ve heard that words were better than speeches. Maybe they are; hiding my red face but letting my fingers move without any embarassment. I would have run away if I was facing you right now; words are beautiful, my voice is too small for them. So I’ll write; I’ll write for you and you only. How should I say this? “I love you.”? These words are such a contradiction : they say a lot but say nothing at the same time. Can a feeling be conveyed by one single sentence? Can I really express what I feel toward you with three little words? It sounds cold if we think it in that way; yet these words are warm. I want you to hear them; I want me to say them; to you of course. Hey, would you allow me to say this? Can I feel this way toward you? Life is unfair; they tell me that we are too different, that you’re too old for me. For some reasons, I can safely admit that I don’t care. Maybe this is love, not thinking about what your environment might say; just following this strange hurricane smoothing my heart and making me write this letter. I’ll call you by your name from now; not a word that creates a difference between us : you’re not “sensei” anymore. So please, let me tell you this : I love you, Harada Sanosuke.

Yukimura Chizuru.

[softkent]

#15 CHOCOLATE for pimms, please?

From this prompt list.

I hope this makes sense! 🤞🤞🤞 *drugs mention* (read on ao3)

“Hey, Jack!” Holster calls up the stairs. “You’ve got mail.” He heads into the kitchen to let that various letters and packages slip onto the large box addressed to his captain on the kitchen table for everyone to sort through themselves.

Back in the living room, he can hear the tell-tale bubbling of Shitty’s bong before Ransom echos “You’ve Got Mail!” in his best AOL impression. Holster rolls his eyes and searches through the letters to see if any of the mass is for him. Shitty’s signature giggle follows another bong rip.

Jack’s feet patter down the stairs in worn socks with more urgency than usual. He skates across the wood on the landing and shoots for the kitchen.

“What the rush, Jackie-O? Expecting a skin mag?”

“Skin mag? You sound fifty. And there’re lots more interesting that come in the mail than softcore porn, Shits,” Jack says with a small “heh.”

Ransom follows him into the kitchen with Shitty following leisurely behind. Holster looks up from a bill-looking-letter and points Jack toward the giant box with neat script on the side reading “For Zimms’ Eyes Only.” Jack hefts the box into his arms and turns to head back to his room, but the doorway is blocked by Ransom leaning against the door jam. Jack levels him with a look.

“Can I get through?”

“Depends, what’s so exciting about the box?” Ransom asks, wiggling his eyebrows. “What’s in the booooox,” Holster mumbles under his breath with limited enthusiasm, opening another letter.

Jack taps the note on the side with purpose. “Who knows, but it seems I’m the only one that’s going to find out.”

Ransom pouts and shuffles past him to look through the mail pile. Shitty looks at the package and back to Jack nodding and turns to head upstairs himself. Jack shakes his head and follows. Sure enough, when he opens his door--balancing his package on his hip--Shitty is already laying out on his bed in just his boxers with his bong cradled in the crook of his arm.

Jack searches for his scissors, finds them under a textbook, and gets to cutting the tape on the box, careful to not damage the return address in a heartwarming, familiar script. He opens the flaps to reveal pink tissue paper and a note. He picks up the card and flips it over:

Zimms,

I know it’s been tough being apart. I wish I could be with you on Valentine’s Day. Hope this helps you feel a little closer to me on the day and helps you cope with the crazy amount of lovey-dovey couples (and possible party in your ‘Haus’).

<3 Kenny

(P.S. you can share with Shitty and pls tell him to cuddle you on vday for me??)

He peels back the tissue paper. The familiar texture and colors make his breath catch for a moment, already knowing what his boyfriend sent him: his home jersey. Jack carefully lifts it out of the pink ocean of paper and holds it to his nose. He’s overwhelmed with the scent of Kent’s cologne. In the bottom of the box under more tissue paper are three heart-shaped boxes of chocolate, one with a sticky note labelled Shitty’s.

“Your boy giving you feelings over there?” Shitty asks, breaking the heavy mist of affection that was settling over Jack.

Jack shakes his head and strips out of his hoodie to slip on Kent’s jersey. He curls the ends of the sleeves over his fists for a second appreciating the familiar weight. “He got you chocolate for valentine’s and said you have to cuddle me.”

“What a good fucking man,” Shitty laughs out and makes grabby hands without any sign of trying to get up. Jack tosses his chocolates on the bed beside him.

“If you get chocolate on my pillow you aren’t allowed in my bed anymore,” Jack warns him, but all the heat is lost in Jack’s easy smile.

[papafred]

March Writing Challenge (Part 3)

(March 3rd: IMMORTALITY) What blessing...no, what curse had Naga bestowed upon the knight? Frederick had seen so many things. Wars had become more and more frequent. Diplomacy was at its most delicate at this point. Dragons were gone. His heart ached with each passing day. The Shepherds were all dead. He had seen each and every one of them go. Chrom was gone. That hurt the most. His lord had died peacefully in his sleep. There was nothing Frederick could do about it.

The man stared out his window, late one night. It was the only time he could ever leave the safety of his home, but tonight...he wanted to reflect. He refused to become attached to anyone. Every time he did, they would slowly die right before his eyes. Everything was so different. He wished he could part with this world like everyone he cared about had done. Immortality was a curse for mere men. 

He turned, facing the multiple paintings he had done. One was of Chrom and another was of Robin, and even Ylisse managed to sneak its way into a painting all on its own. He could remember what they looked like with ease. People like the Shepherds made a lasting impression. However, Frederick struggled to remember the sounds of their voices. Forgot their laughter. The man dropped to his knees, covering his face with his hands. Forgetting the sounds of their voices, hurt worse than watching them die. He would never wish this curse upon anyone else. Nobody deserved to wallow in a pool of sorrow their whole life. Immortality. A curse that was wonderful for a few years, but became a deceitful monster shortly after. . .