Title: Artist And MusePrompt: Decadencember Fine Clothes @thepromptfoundryArtist: CaitiRelationship:

Title: Artist and Muse Prompt: Decadencember Fine Clothes @thepromptfoundry Artist: Caiti Relationship: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Rating: T Note: Should any of my mood boards prompt a fic, please link me so I can enjoy and brag! But please - take this as permission to write it!!

Begins tomorrow! Happy New Year!

The prompt theme for January 2024 is a January of Firsts!

If you use this list, please tag me here @thepromptfoundry, I’d love to see your writing and art!

Feel free to combine different days' prompts with each other, or combine them with other seasonal events! Use your OCs, your favorite characters from media, whatever tickles your fancy.

Respond to as many prompts as you want or as interest you, don’t worry about missing or skipping any. Remember, this is supposed to be fun!

Plain text list below the cut:

1) First impression 2) First step in a journey 3) First snow 4) First blood 5) First fitting 6) First gift 7) First take 8) First touch 9) First day at work or school 10) First chair 11) First love 12) First loss 13) First meeting 14) First star 15) First cut 16) First look into the unknown 17) First kiss 18) First point 19) First class 20) First time on their own 21) First choice 22) First in line 23) First word 24) First draft 25) First spark 26) First runner up 27) First base 28) First aid 29) First born 30) First taste 31) First night

1 Your First Fandom

As strange as it may sound that would probably be anime - specifically, Shaman King. Funny thing but at the time it was airing on the local tv channel and I did not even know that is was an anime and not a regular animation show. Also worth mentioning, W.I.T.C.H. and Jackie Chan Adventures animated.

@thepromptfoundry has a brilliant prompt idea fro this February, so jump in everybody on this fandom train)))

The Prompt Foundry FAQ

To head off some potential confusions and concerns.

Q: Hey, who's running this thing? I'm Eiiri. I'm a writer and a nerd and I like lists. I also wrote an Ao3 metatext guide one time.

Q: What if I missed a day, or filled a prompt late? A: No problem at all! The only timeline here is for when prompt lists are posted. You create and post on your own schedule, I'll reblog as I see prompt fills pop up!

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Q: Hey, Eiiri, can you tag for ___? A: All prompt lists are tagged with "prompt list" and whatever theme tag I'm using for that month. Prompt fills get "prompt fill" and the theme tag. Original posts from the Foundry get "the prompt foundry." I cannot promise anything else will be tagged for consistently. I may add warning tags to reblogged prompt fills based on my own judgement, and particular tags may be added to specific posts upon request. Such requests should be made by DM or Ask, do not do so in replies on the post itself unless you are intending to ask the creator of the art rather than me, the curator of the Foundry. Either way, be polite about it.

Q: For fannish work, are there any fandoms that are off limits? A: Not really. There is no such thing as an umproblematic fandom, and I'm not interested in telling people what stories and media they are or are not allowed to engage with in a transformative manner, even if I personally find it distasteful. As long as the piece of fannish art is not, in and of itself, perpetuating or advocating harm, I will reblog it to the Foundry. If it is perpetuating or advocating harm, I will report it and block the creator.

Q: Is NSFW allowed? A: Yup! Please use tumblr community labels for mature content as appropriate and consider using a readmore to keep anything particularly racy or scary out of immediate view—that goes for both visuals and words. I may choose to not reblog NSFW work that I deem insufficiently guarded.

Q: Is machine-generated "AI" content allowed? A: No. We are here for the joy of artistic creation and the prompts are meant as inspiration for real, human artists. Anyone found to be using machine-generation in filling these prompts will be blocked.

Q: Is there any other content that's not allowed? A: Content that is itself harassing, racist, queerphobic or exclusionist, or that otherwise perpetuates or advocates harm to real people. Any such will not be reblogged, and the creator will be blocked. I am willing to hear concerns that work I've reblogged here is harmful in ways that I may have missed—such as using dogwhistles I'm unfamiliar with or just didn't catch—but anti-ship arguments will get the complainer blocked.

Q: Are minors allowed to interact with the Foundry? A: I'm not blocking anyone based only on their age. I expect everyone engaging with the Foundry to curate their own experience. Block tags, block people, use community labels. Kicking up a stink about the presence of kids, or of non-kid-friendly art, will get you blocked.

Q: Is there anybody who isn't allowed to interact with the Foundry? A: Yeah, people I have blocked. That's mostly TERFs, suicide-baiters, and other such assholes. And porn bots, though if a porn bot actually filled a prompt I would be rather impressed. Anybody harassing me or other creators within the scope of the Foundry will be blocked.

~

In general, be kind, be respectful of differences in this shared space, support your fellow creatives, and have fun!

If you have any other questions, comments, confusions or concerns, or if you just want to say hello, my ask box is open!

With My Heart and Soul

cw: unhealthy relationships, period-typical slurs

Prompt 22 - whole hearted love @thepromptfoundry

Drusus saw the drink coming and, in his defense, he did take a step to the right to avoid it. Except, he wasn’t sure he did take a step to the right. Maybe it was to the left? Or forwards? Backwards would’ve given him more of a chance of dodging but he wasn’t that lucky.

In other words, Drusus got drenched in one of the best wine in Roma and he didn’t even manage to keep his mouth open for it. Shame. A casket of it would’ve fed his vices for a month or so.

Someone laughed and slapped him on the back, making him stumble forwards. Drusus almost thought he’d be renamed the foolish drunkard of Roma if he slipped on wine he was already drenched in if it wasn’t for a strong tug at the back of his tunic. He didn’t crash like an idiot to the floor. He did crash back into the broad, strong chest of someone he was sure he’d been making out with moments before their jealous wife came into the picture.

“Well, salve again, mi deliciae,” Drusus purred. Or, well, he tried to but his hiccups and slurring did not go unnoticed. He was a man of Roma. He soldiered on. “Come to continue what your uxor interrupted… quiqui es?”

Drusus saw the man’s jaw twitch and he didn’t have to be sober to know they were annoyed. Who wouldn’t? He’d been about a palmipes close to bending this proud man over in one of the alcoves and he didn’t know their name.

Shameful? Yes. Embarrassing? A little. Does he really want to know their name? Well…

It’s complicated.

The man still had their hold on his tunic and they used it to pull Drusus closer. Very close. Enough for him to feel the hardness against his own and for their breaths stinking of wine to mix together into something heady—something more intoxicating and filthy.

“And here I was ready to scream your name, Drusus,” The man said, groaning when Drusus began moving against them. They shifted their hold downwards until their hands cupped Drusus’ arse, squeezing hard. “Why don’t you make it up to me and be an obedient cinaedus for me tonight, hm?”

Drusus moaned and smiled. And, with heady half-lidded eyes, he reached down and twisted the man’s cock as ruthlessly as he could. Predictably, the man’s knees buckled and he was on the ground, writhing in agony. It probably didn’t help that Drusus hadn’t let go of their cock.

He twisted it further and stepped on the man’s chest. Smiling still, he leaned down till their noses brushed.

“You’re a hundred times too ugly to ask me to bottom for your pathetic dick, quiqui es,” Drusus snarled. “Now scram.”

He gave the man’s cock one last cruel twist before letting go. His former prospective tryst lay on the ground, groaning and clutching at their groin as the other men cackled and threw drinks at them.

Drusus downed his drink and left the party. He was still hard. He had one destination in mind and one only.

The house was far enough that he was kind of sober by the time he caught sight of it. The lights were out, just as the others are in this neighbourhood. Drusus passed by some patrols who saluted him before going on their way. They didn’t question where he was headed or why he was going around this rich neighbourhood, stinking of wine.

They knew why. They knew where or, more specifically, who he was heading toward.

The house was at the top of a hill, joining the others belonging to the affluent class in Roma. They were dark, too, not a single light on with how late it was. It’d really be rude to come barging in at this time but Drusus’ strides were sure and confident.

He always was when it came to getting welcomed in Manius’ home.

Drusus knocked and waited. He heard scuffling at the very back of the house, some mumbling, before a small light bobbed its way to the front door.

A servant answered the door. She blinked at him a bit blearily.

“Dominus… Drusus?” They said, sounding confused and would’ve gone on a line of questioning he wasn’t in the mood to answer if he hadn’t interrupted.

He leaned against the doorway and smiled. “Manius is in, right?”

The servant nodded, if a bit hesitantly. “Yes, dominus. But it’s late. Dominus Manius has gone to bed. Why—”

Drusus plucked the oil lamp from the servant, smiling still.

“I think,” He said, voice going low. “You can take a walk for the night, no? I hear there’s a lot of celebrations going on tonight.”

That’s all it takes, really. The servant stiffens in understanding, their gaze taking in Drusus’ state of intoxication. They mumble their apologies and shuffle off and away and finally leaving him alone.

With Manius, of course. That was the important part.

From all the times Drusus had come to this house in the dead of night, he didn’t really need the oil lamp. He could walk through and right to where Manius is no matter the obstacle placed in his way. But he wanted to see the man and so the lamp went with him, bobbing and casting shadows all round.

Manius’ bedroom door wasn’t fully closed. The usual scent of patchouli seeps from the crack and Drusus takes it in, mind heady with the promise the smell brings. Manius told him the scent calms him to sleep.

Drusus goes crazy from the slightest whiff of it.

His steps hasten and he slams the door open with no care of their neighbours. He could give no fuck about anyone and anything else right now.

Manius is in bed. The man was in his underclothes, the bottom hem runched up and sleeves slipping from its master. It slipped even further as the man sat up, rubbing at his eyes.

“Wha… Drusus?” Manius blearily said, his brows furrowing in confusion. “I thought you were at a… party?”

Drusus hummed, placing the lamp on a nearby dresser. He leaned against the doorway and watched as the flickering light bathed the room and its master, drawing shadows in just the right places.

“I was,” He said and smiled as he approached the bed. “And now I’m here. Don’t I deserve a greeting, hm?”

Manius blinked. Then the thing Drusus had been waiting for all day and night came and it was worth it.

Manius laughed softly, eyes still soft with sleep. He held out his arms out and Drusus, as though drawn by a force he couldn’t understand, followed the silent command. He let the man cup his face and bring it closer to that laugh, that smile, and those eyes.

Their noses brushed. Manius laughed again.

“Good evening, carissime.”

It’s always been like this. Drusus would fuck any man willing to bottom for him. He would come out of closets or alcoves or even rooms, having just fucked and left his conquest and still aching for more.

He was the most notorious bachelor in Roma. Drusus Aurelius Lepidus Felix could have anyone and they would be glad to be called all kind of slurs for it.

Manius laughed again and touched his face. Drusus hated and loved how he leaned into it, his eyes fluttering open as the only man he’d allowed inside him slowed his thrusts.

“You’re many leuga away, carissime,” He murmured, smiling despite that and despite everything that Drusus is.

Drusus swallowed a whine and shut his eyes. He tried to move his hips, digging in his ankles as he tried to resume the backbreaking pace of before.

“Oh, no, no,” Manius said, now cupping Drusus’ face and wiping away something. A thing he doesn’t want to admit he’s capable of shedding. “Oh, mi carissime, open your eyes. Open them and look at me, hm?”

Drusus doesn’t want to. He really, really doesn’t want to because they’ve done this dance before and he knows it’ll hurt both of them if he acquiesces.

But this is Manius Caelius Agrippa Caracalla. This is his dulcissime who’s asking and so he does open his eyes. He meets Manius’ soft, loving gaze and breaks.

Drusus wraps his arms around the man’s neck and sobs as he confesses what he did tonight—the betrayal he almost committed again because he had forgotten, just as always, that Manius is there. The fervour of the celebration got to his head. There was wine. There were glances and touches and next thing he knew he was rubbing his cock against the arse of a man he didn’t know, the tip already catching at their rim.

“I’m sorry,” Drusus says, almost babbling and choking on his breath because Manius is still inside him and moving so slowly. Like rocking a babe who needs comfort. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, mi dulcissime. Forgive me—forgive me.”

He feels when Manius sighs. He feels the stilted movements of those hands at his back that had steadied him when he moved. For a moment, Drusus dreads. He wonders if this is it. If this is one betrayal too many and he would never have the time to say those two words—

Manius digs his fingers in Drusus’ hips, nearly draws out, and slams back in quick. Out and in, again and again, his thrusts gain their manic nature and Drusus is left a drooling mess bouncing on his lover’s cock. He clings harder as ever to Manius, his breath being punched out of him with no rest and this was his punishment, wasn’t it? This was carnal and wild and nothing like his dulcissime.

Drusus doesn’t realise he’s sobbing till the thrusting slows and there are fingers wiping the tears away. Lips press softly against the corner of his eyes and he opens them again to see Manius smiling softly with love. His Manius. A man he doesn’t deserve. The greatest man in Roma.

“Te amo, mi carissime,” He says, pressing a kiss to his cheek, his forehead, the tip of his nose. “Know that my love will always be here for you when you remember to come home.”

Te amo, Drusus wants to say. Te amo, the words form over and over till it fills his chest and his mind, threatening to tear them apart with an explosion. Te amo, the words climb up his throat with daggers for hands and feet and making him bleed inside with a hurt that’s worth it.

“Yeah,” Drusus says instead, letting the words fall into the void. He rests his forehead against Manius’ and looks at the man he can call his own. “I’ll come home, mi dulcissime. I’ll come home to your love.”

I’ll always remember.

He is home when Manius smiles. He is home when their fingers interlace and he feels Marius’ warmth spread inside him, filling in every crevice of his body and soul.

Drusus is home.

A January of Firsts Day 2: A First Step in a Journey

Ghostpaw runs away from his kittypet life in the horder home and finds Hillclan to begin his journey to be a clan cat.

@thepromptfoundry