The writings of Princess Midna

my writing makes people cry; i call that an achievement

11 notes

Only if For a Night

snap-crackles-jensen-ackles:

can i please have a fic where cas changes his vessel from jimmy to a woman because dean thought it would make him more comfortable but it just doesn’t feel like cas so when cas changes back he just embraces the fact that he is this and that is okay and that is perfect

please

***

  “Dean,” Castiel said, “I would like to make love to you.”

 Dean spit his drink out, narrowly missing the book he was currently leafing through.

“Cas, what the hell?”

“I said I would…”

“Yeah, I heard that. ‘s just that I wasn’t prepared for it. Well,” Dean continued, “not that I haven’t thought of it, it was just, you know…”

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15 notes

AltMal drab: Rainy Mornings

Altaïr likes the rainy days, the mornings especially.
They allow him to stay in bed just a little longer, and there’s nothing quite like the steady sound of raindrops hitting the world outside, especially when combined with the steady breathing of the man next to him.

Altaïr always wakes up a little earlier on those rainy mornings; it’s almost like his subconsiousness hears it in his sleeping state and wakes him up, just so he can listen, just so he can stay awake a bit longer and just listen.

Altaïr is never as relaxed as during those prescious moments.
His days are filled with work, with training, with missions, with other people.
But the rainy mornings offers him peace for just a little while longer.
Offers him time with Malik for just a little while longer.

“Malik.”
The name slips easily of his tongue, a loving caress he himself can barely hear over the steady sound of water from outside.

And yet Malik hears it.
Maybe the sound of his name coming from Altaïr’s mouth is the same as the rain for Altaïr, maybe he will always hear it and wake to it.

It is almost like it’s on another level, a deeper, more personal level that has nothing to do with sound.

Malik turns towards Altaïr and opens his eyes.
In them, Altaïr can see sleepyness, comfort and love.
A small smile pulls at his lips, as he leans in to kiss Malik, knowing the same look is in his own eyes.

Yes, Altaïr loves rainy mornings.

7 notes

Kyouya/Tamaki one-sided drabble

princessmidna:

When Kyouya realized it the first time, he shed tears.
If they were because of the pieces Tamaki played, or because his mind only took exactly one second to register, realize and inform him of the trouble he would be facing when his father found out, he did not know.
His hopes of surpassing his brothers were already slim enough, but after this? His father would disowe him, and he would have no standing or support.

The second time was the day they opened the host club. When he saw the way Tamaki treated the ladies - the Princesses, as he called them - he could not help the feelings of jealosy and envy filling him up.
In time he learned to cope with it in his own way, but it always hurt.

The third time was after Haruhi joined them - unwillingly - and Tamaki started refering to himself as Father and Kyouya as Mother.
Kyouya’s heart had skipped several beats, though he looked as stoic as ever on the outside.

The fourth time was during their holiday at the beach, and the fifth during the summer, after having located Haruhi’s whereabouts.

The sixth was when Tamaki announced he was to be engaged to Eclair and the end of the host club.

The seventh when he learned he was leaving for France and thought it his fault that Kyouya had been slapped by his father - in public no less - and Tamaki had thought that the only possible solution.

The eight was when they all danced together, and he saw the happiness in Tamaki’s eyes.

The ninth was when he pushed Haruhi into Tamaki’s arms after first having stolen her from him, because he found great pleasure in teasing the other man.
He could see they were in love, and yet a gentle smile appeared at his lips, as if it would counter the sadness which momentarily flashed through his eyes.

The tenth was when Tamaki and Haruhi finally kissed, and he wished it was his own lips being captured by Tamaki.

The one time Tamaki realized, was on the eve of his wedding, when the male members of the hostclub gathered to celebrate Tamaki’s last night as a free man before he would belong to Haruhi.

5 notes

ShaunDes: Burden of Sacrifice

by ~MidnightMinx90

  “DESMOND!”

In all his years as an assassin, with all his experience, William Miles had never heard a cry as heart-broken and devastated as the one that came from Shaun Hasting’s mouth.

 “You can’t do this, you can’t! Not after all you’ve been through – we’ve been through! YOU CAN’T!” The last words ended as a half sob, and Shaun almost collapsed on the floor.
It couldn’t end like this, it couldn’t. He had so much more to say, so much more to experience with Desmond. He’d never told him the truth, and he wanted so desperately to do so. But not like this, never like

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4 notes

Brit, Bartender and Bike.

by ~MidnightMinx90

The music was loud, beating. The crowd gyrating, moving like they were one.
Shaun Hastings sat by himself at a table, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. He was bored, utterly bored, and he could not comprehend why his ‘friends’ - he thought of the word with annoyance - had decided it was a good idea to bring him along.
Why on Earth would he - a single man with better things to occupy his time with - go to a nightclub with two of his female friends - especially when he was quite certain said friends were dating but trying to hide it from him?

 “No, thank you,” Shaun said when yet another tipsy girl came up to

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7 notes

An Assassin’s Valentine - snippet

Or: Four couples, Three assassins, Two days, One theme.
Pairings: Altaïr/Malik, Ezio/Leonardo, Ezio/Yusuf and Desmond/Shaun
Rating: M
Summary:  Three main assassins and their partners. February 13th and 14th. One day to plan, one day to celebrate. 
A/N: This is connected to my three-piece story If He Only Knew, Now He Knows and the third part which I will not reveal the name of yet. Links can be found on my blog, or you can go to my Ao3, devA or ff.net accounts and look them up there if you want. Reading them first might make it easier, but this is pretty straight-forwards, so you can read this without having read the rest.
Written as a sort of belated-Valentine’s thing, because I got home the 13th and found inspiration for this about three days ago.

*****

February 13th 1512

 

  Ezio woke up from his dream – or was it memory? – of eight years ago. It was not painful, as it had been in the early years, but it still made him feel like he was missing something, missing someone. But it was still a good memory, even though he could not say why. But it was all in the past. Leonardo was not his, not anymore. Was he even alive, Ezio wondered, though quickly shaking the thought away – he would know if he was dead, he was certain of it.

 

  Outside, the church bells rang in the 7th hour of the day, making Ezio rise so he could get dressed and prepared. He did not know what this day would bring, but he felt good about it.

 The first person he saw when he reached the library, was Yusuf. His heart skipped a beat when he thought of the other man and the memory he had just relived. Maybe he would re-enact another part of that memory as well?

 

  Looking around, making sure no one would see them, the Eagle snuck up behind the other man and, wounding his arms around him, placed a chase kiss at the joint between his left shoulder and neck.

 “Good morning Mentor,” was the reply he got, and it only made him smile into Yusuf’s flesh. He knew the other man would hear him come up behind him, and since it was becoming a ritual between them, Ezio also knew Yusuf was expecting the kiss. Was he getting too predictable in his old age, he wondered silently to himself.

 As if knowing what he was thinking about, Yusuf turned to him, a smirk playing on his lips as he said “Predictable or not, don’t you dare stop doing that.”

 It earned Yusuf a laugh from the older man, followed by a loving kiss on the mouth.

 

  “Mmmm, good morning to you, lover.” The last word was said in such a way that it left no doubt in Yusuf’s mind as to what Ezio was thinking about. Yusuf just laughed, knowing that if he was to take him upon that offer, they would end up spending the whole day locked away in one of their private hideouts. Which would be a good – and a bad – thing.

 “Come on, Ezio, we’ve got a long day ahead of us,” the Turk said, pushing the Italian playfully away with his signature laugh and headed in the direction of breakfast. Though he did sway his hips for show as he walked away, knowing Ezio would understand and accept why he could not take him upon his offer.

 Ezio admired the view and followed closely behind, chuckling as he did so.

 

  Both men were looking forward to returning to the den later that night.

 

*

 

  A quarter of an hour to midnight found Ezio and Yusuf tangled together, panting and moaning, half dressed, on top of the carpets on the floor of Ezio’s chambers. They hadn’t made it to the bed and did not quite see the point in trying to reach it now that they had gotten so far. Sure, Ezio was not as young as he had once been, but he could not care less at this point.

 Their hoods were down, tunics pulled up and pants were tangled around their ankles. The only clothing separating their cocks was their undergarments, which was quickly, though awkwardly, removed.

 

  Their want and lust was so strong that they did not bother taking their clothes properly off, because they needed each other right then and there and nothing and no one was to stop them.

 Then Yusuf moved his hips just so, extracting a moan from Ezio and a strangled one from himself. The Turk reached one hand between them, holding their now leaking cocks together and creating wonderful friction as the two assassins continued rutting against one another.

 

 Their kissing was sloppy – all teeth and tongues and saliva, their tongues battling for dominance, although half-heartedly as it were not all that easy considering their movements. Soon their hips stuttered, both failing to keep up their rhythm as they were close to coming.

 Yusuf came first, Ezio’s name falling from his lips in a raw moan. Hearing his name and seeing his lover come undone, had Ezio following mere seconds behind, his come mixing with Yusuf’s, covering the other man’s hand and stomach.

 

  Ezio almost collapsed on top of Yusuf, but managed to lay down half on him, half beside him. An exhausted chuckle escaped him, making Yusuf wonder what was so funny.
 “Well,” he started, “at least I won’t have to wash my gear free of that.”

 Yusuf looked down at himself, catching on to what the older man meant. Then he smirked, seeing it as a challenge.

 “We’ll just see about that,” he retorted, grinning, and rolled himself over, pinning Ezio down and moving his own body up and down against him, intending to smear some over on the other man.

 The movement did something else to them though, something that made them both moan out again.

 “Yusuf,” Ezio somehow managed to get out, his voice sounding strangled, “can we… at least move to the bed… this time?”

 

  Outside, the bells marked the passing of the hour and the new day. Yusuf looked down at Ezio through half-closed eyes.

 “Only as a Valentine’s gift to you.”