#I CANNOT add another WIP now

[shadowuserannie]

You mean to tell me there are HUNDREDS of Danny Phantom getting summoned fics when there are NONE OF CARTER KANE??

Carter Kane, who is the first human Pharaoh capable of calling the Egyptian gods to war, and the first to sit on the throne in millennia? Carter Kane, one of the Killers of Apophis? Carter Kane, Eye of Horus?

You mean to tell me that in the entire multiverse, there isn't a single cult that discovers the existence of a new Pharaoh and through ungodly DC magic bullshit summons him?

No offense to Danny, but he isn't even a canon Ghost King. Carter is a canon Pharaoh.

[bonefall]

Dunno if they properly count to be recycled but in 'Into the Wild' Dawncloud mentions having more kittens she doesn't want to be killed which can't be Blossom or Swamp who are dead by this point.

I'm counting them. I haven't named them yet, but in my notes, they're marked down as "WindClan Massacre 1" and "WindClan Massacre 2."

Dawncloud is a mess in-canon. She's an apprentice who's supposed to be an old queen with several litters, and a mate so old he should have been dead before she was born. The way I've decided to approach her is by making her more accurate to her TPB appearance; an old queen.

She is now Raggedstar's littermate.

A friend of Yellowfang's youth, along with Ashflame (previously ShC Ashfur).

Finchflight was a total git. The kind of husband that you really hope she divorces, but never does.

Nasty to her friends, really full of himself, a fantastic warrior who doesn't let you forget it.

"Dawcy, what do you see in that guy?" "Ohh, you don't know him like I do."

Together, they had several litters of kits. I'm still working out the nitty gritty details on how many litters and how many kits in each.

The oldest were the two who eventually die in the massacre. There weren't as many ShadowClan casualties as WindClan casualties that night, but they were strong warriors in the initial strike squad.

I'm thinking of giving them bird names-- Drake and Harrier, maybe. Finchflight would want his firstborn kits to have names like him, and Dawncloud would oblige.

Scorchwind is in a later litter. He was born after his uncle earned the honor title of Raggedpelt, and Dawncloud adored her brother's old name.

With his blessing, the unused, "lucky name" was passed to Scorchkit.

There's another "maybe" cat who might be hers-- a Glitch Warrior, the "Not Brokenstar" forest rogue from Rise of Scourge.

His WIP name is Braketail. A brake is a marshland dominated by one species of plant. I'm tempted to make his name Brakebone though.

May or may not stay in the Dawnkin family, though. Depends.

Since BB!Brokenstar both does not have the "child soldiers" plotline and has a much longer rule than his canon counterpart, Dawncloud is now the progenitor of some "kit saves."

Currently, Mossthorn is her lastborn.

Finchflight died while they were young, so their temperament is vastly different from his older siblings.

From there, Swampfang, Volewhisper, and Blossomfrost are grandchildren now.

Discopaw and her unnamed sibling (current WIP name Poppaw) may also be Dawnkin, depending.

I'm still deciding who the parents were, though.

Current draft is giving Swamp/Bloss/Vole to Mossthorn, but I might give them to one of the dead firstborns. I like the idea of Volepaw getting horribly mauled while rushing to his parent's defense.

Dawncloud there in the camp, burying two children and unsure if her grandson will survive his injuries, deciding in that moment she cannot lose another kit.

Sadly though, this doesn't have a happy ending. Dawncloud's family is devastated by Runningnose's plague.

Dawncloud, Mossthorn, Volewhisper, and Pop are taken out as Nightstar sympathizers. Disco and Swamp are targeted too, but survive.

Blossomfrost wanted to be a Cleric. She begged Runningnose to let her help, not knowing it was him who had unleashed it on the Clan that "betrayed" Brokenstar.

He warned her that the plague was dangerous, and that there were serious risks involved. She could have distanced herself from the infected, stayed safe. But she didn't.

Her death was unfortunate collateral. She was a bright young warrior with a good heart. A waste.

I'm unsure if Discopaw will stay in this family, but it's definitive that Crowfrost will be descended from Dawncloud. What defines this family is their bright, two-colored irises. Crow has cobalt ringed by brilliant blue frost.

To add insult to injury, I imagine Nightwhisper's name is a direct reference to Volewhisper. Probably Runningnose's idea; to have the first warrior that Tigerstar names be a repeat of the first title Nightstar gave.

'Let this be the sight you die seeing, Dawncloud,' Runningnose's subtle smile and gleeful eyes silently declare, 'I've taken your kits. I've trampled their honor. Everything you betrayed your Clan for was for nothing.'

It's only the beginning of TigerClan's tyranny, a droplet of the bloodbath to come.

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience 3

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 3rd snippet. Officiator found, Adar and Celebrimbor get right down to business and get wed in the uruk camp. However, there is an unforseen hurdle. Celebrimbor ends up being the voice of reason this time around – with unexpectedly nice consequences. (aka, a kiss)

I feel like my muse has lured me in with candy (the political marriage AU idea) and is now holding me captive (making me write more snippets). Not like I have like. 20 ideas in my ideas folder and two other WIPs open or anything like that. Nuh-uh. I feel like I have gotten completely blindsided but – I am having an absolute blast so far?! Let’s see how far this wave will carry me, shall we?

(Also a big huge Thank You to everyone who has commented and liked and reblogged and sent me messages about these snippets, it’s been an absolute delight and I partly credit your lovely encouragement with why I have gotten so invested in this.)

They got through the 'ceremony' much better than Celebrimbor had expected. Between Galadriel's lingering reluctance and their shared lack of in-depth knowledge on how elven marriages were to be officiated, it had taken them a while to work out all the details (Adar had helped out in that regard, to both Celebrimbor’s and Galadriel’s surprise) – and then one of the uruk had demanded the two husbands-to-be add some words that included Adar's children and the marriage's legitimacy among them into the vows.

Safe to say, trying to get Galadriel and the uruk - Glug, if Celebrimbor was not mistaken - to settle down after this had been a bit of a hassle.

But still, they got through it - without cussing, without bloodshed, without attempts on one of the grooms' lives (Celebrimbor was considering Galadriel with newfound respect as he acknowledged that particular feat), and so the smith would count the proceedings as a victory. He'd had very few of those in the last few weeks, and would take it for what it was.

However, when it came to the end of the wedding ceremony, another problem arose:

"No," Adar flatly stated. It caused Celebrimbor to blink in surprise, and Galadriel to glare at the uruk from where she stood next to the two future husbands. Adar's face had hardened into a grimace of disapproval. "There must be a way to circumvent this."

What he was talking about was, of course, the part during which he and Celebrimbor were meant to kiss to seal the marriage. It was a common practice, not just among elves but men and dwarves as well. That Adar either hadn't anticipated it, or would now make such a fuss about it after having championed a political marriage as their primary option of cooperation, was baffling, to say the least.

Celebrimbor knit his eyebrows in confusion, even as Galadriel spoke. "Orc- Uruk. You pushed for this to take place, you cannot possibly think to stop now when we have almost reached an accord and bound the two of you-"

"I will not kiss him," Adar replied. This time, there was steel in his voice. "He accepted a political marriage, not one of passion. He clearly does not want to kiss me. I will not force him into it."

Judging by Galadriel's resulting look, she was taken just as off-guard by Adar's words and the smith was.

Coupled with Adar's strained expression, Celebrimbor couldn't help but feel warm at the other's objections.

The uruk had told him he wouldn't touch Celebrimbor without permission, that he would not force him. This had clearly been important to him, even before he'd fetched Galadriel. That it went so far as to include a kiss to seal their arrangement was doing something to Celebrimbor's stomach, and made him feel unexpectedly safe. Confident, even.

He could see that Galadriel and Adar were ready to get into yet another spat, so the smith stepped forward and slowly – very slowly – raised his hands to Adar's face.

The uruk briefly startled, surprised at the elf's brazen gesture, and it took him some obvious effort to untense again. Still, when Celebrimbor brought his hands up to the his cheeks, the uruk did not withdraw.

The feel of Adar's rough, scarred skin under Celebrimbor's fingertips sent a shock through the smith. The other was warmer than he had expected.

Up this close, Adar had green-blue eyes. And they were so completely focused on the smith that it almost stole his the air from his lungs.

"Adar," he tried, and could have sworn that the other had sucked in a breath as he spoke the uruk's name. "You were right, this arrangement is our best chance to avoid a bloody, gruesome war that would claim the lives of countless people – those of my fellow elves, and your children," he spoke back the uruk's words at him, as if reminding him.

"I trust you not to betray this alliance, and I trust you not to hurt me. You haven't so far. I allow you to-," it wouldn't help his case if his words failed him now. "To kiss me. It is part of the ceremony. It will take but a moment. I am allowing you to do this. Maybe neither of us has a desire for it, but, it is no hardship if done for a lasting peace."

Adar looked torn, mouth pinched and eyebrows furrowed, as he stared at Celebrimbor.

The smith tried again. "If you are holding back only for my sake, you do not have to. Truly. Though if it is because you are having second thoughts-"

"That is not it," the uruk spoke, voice brash, and he needed a moment reign himself in again. Celebrimbor waited with bated breath – his fingers still rested on Adar's cheeks, and the uruk hadn't even made an attempt to grab them or shake them away from his body. "I said I would not force you."

"You are not forcing me," Celebrimbor disputed, and leant closer. He could see Adar's eyes widen as he almost touched their foreheads together. The way the uruk’s mouth unconsciously opened made Celebrimbor feel even warmer, and he pressed forward with his words. "I could imagine far worse choices for a marriage, or even a kiss. You needn't fear for my comfort."

Granted, not exactly the most elegant thing to say to a man who would soon be bound to his side and commandeer a huge, deadly army straight towards Ost-In-Edhil, but it was the best Celebrimbor could come up with – without obviously lying, or giving away how the the thought of kissing Adar did in fact at least stirr something within him. A little.

He'd never just been interested in elves as potential partners, but he'd never thought he'd find himself in the position of kissing an orc- er, uruk.

Nor that he'd be even remotely interested in wanting to.

It was, indeed, a very strange day.

Maybe some of his thoughts had shown on his face, or perhaps his shoddy attempt of making Adar feel at peace had done some good after all, but the uruk eventually dropped his strained expression and exchanged it for a slightly guarded, but more relieved one. He nodded. "If you are sure."

"Surest I will be, considering the circumstances," Celebrimbor said with a tiny laugh, before he sobered again. "Apologies. But yes, I am sure. You may kiss me. Let us do this."

Somehow, his words did the trick, because when the smith leant forward, Adar did the same.

At the edge of his awareness, Celebrimbor could hear Galadriel gasp and the uruk guards make noises of disgust as they – very loudly – turned away from the proceedings.

But all that seemed to fall away when compared to the feeling of touching his lips to Adar's. It was a chaste kiss, just a press of lips really, but it was...surprisingly nice. Adar's lips were softer than Celebrimbor had expected, slightly parted and as warm as his cheeks.

Their noses brushed as the two moved closer together, and after a moment, there was a gauntleted hand on Celebrimbor's shoulder as Adar tried to balance himself. And soon after that, a second hand – slow and cautious – grasped his elbow.

Physical contact, yes, but it was done in such a considerate and respectful way that Celebrimbor hadn't seen it coming. He felt his belly quiver once more, this time more strongly than when he'd first considered what touching Adar might be like. It was hard, not to lean fully into the kiss – into the uruk – and just sink into the touch like he would into a hot bath.

When Adar drew away from the kiss, Celebrimbor realized with a start that he'd closed his eyes some time during it. Judging by how Adar had to reorient himself, he'd likely had the same happen as well.

'Huh,' the smith thought, and followed Adar's example as they untangled their hands from each other. Adar even brushed down the smith's robe before he retracted his hand from Celebrimbor’s elbow, while the elf couldn't help letting his hand touch Adar's hair as he dropped his arms.

It, too, was unexpectedly soft.

Flustered, he turned to Galadriel, ready to have her announce the marriage as officiated.

And felt the need to avert his gaze at the near scandalized, wide-eyed way Galadriel was looking at him, mouth open and all.

'Why isn't Elrond here to witness this? I thought there was absolutely no way to turn Galadriel of the Golden House of Finarfin speechless. He surely won't believe me when I tell him,' Celebrimbor thought, just a touch hysterical.

"That should be it, right? The wedding has been performed," Adar stated. He was once again standing next to the large table in the center of the tent, ready to down another glass of wine. Celebrimbor couldn't help thinking that so much wine before a battle could not be a good idea, but who knew what kind of a tolerance the uruk had.

Truth be told, Celebrimbor could probably use a glass himself, all things considered.

When Adar offered him one unexpectedly a moment later, the smith took it with a surprised but pleased expression, and thanked the other for it. Adar dismissed it, though not unkindly.

Finally, Galadriel found her voice again. Not without a sputter at first, however.

"You are right. You are now bound together. It...it is done."

"Well then. Cheers," was Celebrimbor’s reply to that, stated drily, before he downed his glass. Not the kind of wedding he'd imagined for himself, but well. At least he didn't have to invite Thranduil. That had to count for something, right?

[witch-and-her-witcher]

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going! Thank you to everyone who tagged me and have had me in their inspo sections, I adore each and every one of you!

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

518,691 (hoping to add another 3-4k to this before midnight hehe)

I CANNOT drop that number without thanking the fucking dream team who has read EVERY SINGLE PUBLISHED WORD of mine: @popjunkie42 and @climbthemountain2020. From cheerleading, to pumping the breaks when my run ons be running, I appreciate the ever-loving hell out of both of you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Honorable mention betas who hold up that number: @cauldronblssd, @wilde-knight, @thesistersarcheron, and @rosanna-writer. I truly appreciate every one of you babes and your critical, brilliant eyes on my self indulgent streams of thought.

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

21! 13 of those were one shots.

If I can be real, I have two multi-chapter WIPs sitting in my docs, but it felt too irresponsible to post those once I started getting buried in grad school.

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

Heading into the new year, I have 2 in progress fics: Ruin Me for the Fourth Wing fandom and Who's Gonna Know You Like Me? for ACOTAR.

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

Any of my poly fics! I really have to thank @acourtofladydeath for her beautiful brain child @polyacotarweek for getting me into the poly mind set. Although I only wrote throuples for that week (and since aside from the background Nesta/Eris/Azriel/Cassian in Who's Gonna Know You Like Me?), I am interested in writing more complex poly pairings in 2025.

I also can't leave out @yanny-77, @copperfirebird and @hockeyspiral23 for supporting the violaiden obsession! I adore writing the three of them together so so much and it's so fun to have others to share the brain rot with!

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

I had never done a true canon rewrite before dripping in gold! It was so so fun taking an in text scene and making it queer as hell.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

It's undeniable that A Court of Chaos and Darkness's reception took me by surprise. From the moment I couldn't shake the concept of the fic to the over one hundred kudos it received before I took it off of anon. But even more so, the absolute comfort blanket this fic was as I wrote it was shocking. Something in the healing occurring, in the recognition of the complexity of parenting and the messiness of the parent/child relationship really struck me.

The fic @revenge??? I love you filthy azris lovers. This was an outlet for some of my dating app blunders and shenanigans and you all really said "serve."

And then there's my first omegaverse fic and the first of it's kind in the Fourth Wing ao3 tag (when it was posted, I believe there's several more now!): so what now? The Fourth Wing fandom has been warm as hell and so inviting to me, but you have all really embraced me bringing weird into the tags and I just can't thank you enough as I gape at the stats.

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

Either of my sapphic fics: dripping in gold (genderbent feysand) and lunch. (morlain ft the mommy kink tag!)

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

There are so, so many talented artists that inspire me! @thrumugnyr, @copypastus , @queercontrarian and @lucychanart have been my muses for all things Tamlin. @climbthemountain2020 and @wilde-knight are triple threats and their art brings me such joy! There's also @dustjacketdraws that always has primo Cassian and Nesta vibes!

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

There are SO many. First and foremost, my babe @popjunkie42. I love you, my muse. Something about reading your writing and just chatting with you inspires all of my ideas to flow. @asnowfern is another muse and writer I can always turn to for inspiration, we were just recalling her Turning Darkness Into Light elucien spooktober fic that tickles my imagination so much among her other works!

I'm inspired and impressed endlessly by @climbthemountain2020 ability to flawlessly produce well developed, gorgeously vivid stories.

@highlordofkrypton, @missfckingfortune and @beesays inspire me constantly with their raw talent and skill and for the first two, the hot and steamy smut they can turn out. @jules-writes-stories inspires me with her OC work and beautifully layered plots (Mithras, my toxic love.) @c-e-d-dreamer inspires me with her fun AU worlds, but also with her fearlessness to tackle toxic relationships - @secret-third-thing is in this same boat as well as @iftheshoef1tz, @foundress0fnothing, and of course the OGs @thesistersarcheron, @whisperingmidnights, @separatist-apologist and @the-lonelybarricade.

There are so many more of you. I love this community and the inspiration that flows all around your creative, galaxy brained minds.

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

SO many, but those I haven't mentioned yet who are so so talented (but not limited to this list): @dusk-muse, @chairofchaos, @shadowsandlint, @xxvalkyriesxx, @fourteentrout, and @littedidyouknow.

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

None this year, but the idea is fun!

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

Could You Love Me While I Hate Myself is my proudest accomplishment this year by far. I always told myself I couldn't: write OCs, write a longfic, or write a fic that would ever break the UNBELIEVABLE stats this fic has done. I proved myself wrong on every front.

Thank you so much to @asnowfern, @popjunkie42 and @wilde-knight for seeing me through this capstone fic and for believing in me and helping me see myself in a totally different light.

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

Be as silly and self-indulgent as possible.

If you have a killer idea/dialogue line/etc - WRITE IT DOWN. YOU WILL NOT REMEMBER IT LATER.

14. What is your advice?

Surround yourself with people who make you feel like you can accomplish anything and you will never fail because there they will be, gassing you up flop or not.

I love you, harem. Writing is so fun BECAUSE of you. <3

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

Continuing to eat, serve and let the haters drown in it.

[marsoid]

@wip i have a tumblr feature suggestion!!

Right now, Twitter (or whatever it’s called now) is the only social app that allows PRIVATE ACCOUNTS (instagram doesn’t count because you can’t have text posts. You expect me to post an image every time I want to vent? Facebook also doesn’t count because I hate it.)

I know we have the ability currently to make our side blogs private, but here’s the issue with that for me:

1. They can’t be FOLLOWED, you can apparently only add “members” to the blog.

2. I thought I had more points but really it keeps coming back to the fact that they can’t be followed. I don’t want to put in a password every time I want to check in on a friend. The convenience of making your own private blog and following your friends’ private blogs cannot be overstated. It’s the ONE THING that’s keeping me attached to twitter.

What’s so great about having a private blog?

Safety. Toggle your blog to “Private” in Visibility settings if you need a breather from outside attention. Only your followers will be able to see any new posts you make. Old posts will still be visible outside your blog however, similar to when a blog is deactivated I assume.

Friends-only space. Sharing thoughts and art with only a few close friends is more comfortable for a lot of people.

Actual privacy. Even if you have 0 followers, even if you don’t use tags, the tumblr search will still pull up any word used in the post itself, meaning if someone searches the right thing, your posts could still show up to anyone. Setting your blog to private would remove this concern.

Journaling. Private twitters are nice, but a private tumblr? Getting to write out a BIG LENGTHY RANT for only close friends? Hell yea

Keep explicit content away from those who don’t want to see it. Setting a blog to private is a great way to keep certain art and writings out of easily reachable spaces.

Another bridged gap between twitter and tumblr. Ok listen. I’m not necessarily advocating for every twitter user to join tumblr. But I know that’s something the tumblr staff is interested in, so I’m adding it here for that reason. I for one would ditch twitter in a heartbeat if I could have a private blog, and would probably have an easier time convincing some straggling friends to join for a feature like this. Just sayin

I also made some quick and sloppy mockups

Anyway i guess that’s the gist of it

If anyone has anything to add pls feel free. I really want a private blog LMAO

[nixie-deangel]

me to me, in a stern voice: we don't need another idea to add to the list. do you fucking hear me???? WE DO NOT NEED ANOTHER!!!!

me to me, in a sad voice: okay.....I do hear you....but....🥺🥺🥺🥺 maybe think about hangster breaking up because of Jake's family though? just. just think about this with me. okay?🥺🥺 please?

me to me just giving up: *sigh*..............what's the idea?

me to me about to add yet another WIP to my new list: awesome! okay, so we see a lot about hangster being ex's and breaking up (and who's fault it is varying on the shifting tides of fandom and how we're feeling about characters from moment to moment)

BUT have we thought about Jake's family being the reason for it??? like. okay. Jake's family has so many expectations on who Jake should married, that every time Jake brings Bradley (and for this, we're saying both are stationed in Corpus Christi during this period) and they can't help making snide comments to Bradley about how he's not enough and how Jake won't actually settle for him and how Jake will eventually find someone better and more worthy of the Seresin name.

and well, seriously there is only so much Bradley can take, what with him already feeling not enough and out of place and like he's not deserving of Jake's love and attention and time anyway.

so it's the nail in the road that explodes the tire and sends Bradley careening into breaking them up and getting as far away as he possible can because yeah, he DOES want Jake to find his happily ever after and get everything he wants and deserves but Bradley cannot be around to witness his future, his heart, finding what he so badly wants for them with someone else.

and then of course the mission happens and it's just an all around mind fuck for Bradley, though it all works out with him and Mav clearing the air and him and Jake somehow finding a tentative friendship once again.

and then weeks later, Javy makes mention Jake is bringing his new boyfriend around to meet them and he wants to make sure Bradley isn't going to cause a scene or be a problem and Bradley can't help haltingly answering that it's okay, that he knew this day would come, that Jake would find someone truly worth him, that his family would love, someone that was truly deserving of Jake's time and love and that he'd get his happily ever after.

only, Bradley starts saying this just as Jake walks in and is floored because how dare Bradley think Jake could ever find his happily ever after when that was Bradley and Bradley walked away from him, from them! but then he latches onto Bradley saying someone deserving of Jake, someone worthy of him, someone his family would accept and love and things start clicking in his head.

and obviously, Jake and Bradley get back together and Jake becomes an unholy terror to his parents and sisters who were part of the problem, who were the match that lit the fire that imploded their relationship.

idk. just. the thought of Jake's family sparking the match and setting the explosion off is tempting. and I can't stop thinking about it when I should really be sleeping right now.

[grounded-parasocial]

Simon’s Mental Health Fanfic List

Yesterday I posted a list of Wille’s Mental Health Fanfic so for those of you who are interested here is Simon’s List.

As I stated in my previous post, there are some stunning depictions of Simon’s struggle in Fanfic. I am forever astounded by the way words in a story can make us feel so much! Please be sure to read the tags.

Everybody Loves You Now @im-a-king-baby (M, 73K)

Constellations of Love @simons-purplehoodie (M, 79K)

Say a prayer for me in the dark by witchjeons (E, 62K)

Little Light @unfortunate17 (E, 22K)

Monotony Blues by stardive (M, 47K)

A Glimpse of Us @simons-purplehoodie (E, 104K)

Hotel Suites and Twisted Sheets @ungaroyals (E, WIP 56K)

Your Love is My Turning Page by willesworld (G/T, 16K)

The way we were by queerofthemonth (M, WIP 57K)

Fever Pitch by scissorsandstone (E, 101K) this one should probably be on Wille’s list too

Felt Like A Sin -part of Love Interruption Series by wilmonlibrarian (Not Rated, 6K)

*I know there are repeats but they MUST be included on Simon’s list too

I dont feel like our love is brand new @prince-simon (E, WIP 395K)

Obviously @grapehyasynth (M, 124K)

And that’s how we make history, baby @waybeforeyourtime (T, 82K)

Almost is Never Enough @in-amor-veritas (E, WIP 202K)

I would drive on (to the end with you) @glassdollls (Not Rated, WIP 118K)

I think there is some overlap with @impossibleknots suggestions and a few additions- you can find that post here Wille’s Mental Health List post

I cannot thank fanfiction writers enough for the gifts they share with us! 💜

Be kind to yourself and be kind to one another!

*I’m sure I missed a bunch, so please add any additions I may have missed

[its-time-to-write]

hiya there love

i was wondering, if i could request a lovely jamie tartt fic from you? it would basically revolve around r being increadibly stressed and overworked and, of ypu are comfortable, r gets a panic attack (maybe she works at the dogtrack and then people are confused about what is happening) and then jamie swoops in and saves the day

absolutely love your writing and stories and senig lots of love and creativity your way <3 <3 <3

guys I have like five WIPS and usually I have zero, but here we are. Most of them only need their closing paragraph but I have been BUSY and also very tired. thank you @dark-academia-slut for this request and your recent comments on my posts🩵🩵

for you, there’ll be no more crying

There’s too much to do and only one you, and yet everything needs to be done today and no one seems to realize that they’re assigning you more work on top of what other people have already given you. You didn’t realize everything was so pressing, but here you are with a to do list as long as your arm filled with tasks to be completed ASAP. 

You think that taking a break for lunch is a bad idea, honestly you’d rather sit at your desk and check some more things off your list, but HR insists that you have a thirty-minute break. It’s also shitty because your boyfriend works here too, but you’re not sitting with him today because by the time he got to the cafe, the only available space was all the way across the room. So here you are, tapping your foot as you force down a salad. 

Chewing feels mechanical, each bite heavy in your mouth. You choke down a piece as your index finger taps on your thumb, counting down the minutes until you can rush back to your office. You can feel Helen from HR keeping an eye on you, and you don’t need to add a visit from her to you list. 

“Oi, can you compile that list I emailed you about last week?” Stephanie from the front desk asks from across the table. 

You give her a confused look. “What list?”

She returns your look. “The one I sent last Tuesday?”

You shake your head and say, “I never got that email.”

Stephanie frowns and pulls out her phone. “Oh, whoops, it’s in my drafts still.” She presses a button and says, “There, it’s sent!” with a cheerful grin, like that changes anything. 

Your whole leg is shaking now, not just your foot. “When do you need it?” you ask carefully, willing her to say literally an other day but today. 

“Oh, I need it by the end of the day,” she replies so you nod, all slow and mechanical. 

You ask, “Can I get it to you tomorrow?” and she shakes her head. 

“No, I really needed it done by today. You should have checked with me when you didn’t get my email on Tuesday.”

You don’t point out that it’s impossible to ask about an email you didn’t even know existed, mainly because Stephanie is best friends with Helen and you literally cannot deal with both of them today. 

So instead you nod, fake a smile, and take another bite of salad as Stephanie gets up to leave. 

The moment she’s gone, everything goes slow. And not in a good way. 

You think, oh shit as the food in your mouth becomes tasteless and your gaze becomes fixated on a spot on the table. 

Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. 

Liam notices and asks, “Are you alright?” in his too-loud voice, so now everyone in the cafe is looking at you as you take stuttered breaths around the salad in your mouth. 

You’re confident that this couldn’t get any worse, but you can’t even answer Liam so he shakes your arm, causing you to jolt. 

You press one hand to your heart as you try to catch a breath with all eyes still on you. 

A hand presses a napkin to your mouth and says, “Spit,” but you don’t look up to see who it is. You’re stuck on that one spot on the table, unable to move anything except your leg. But you don’t need to look up to know who it is. 

“Fuck off, Liam,” says Jamie and Liam does. 

You’re told later that Jamie flips off anyone who’s still staring, but you miss it in the moment because it’s over your head. 

“You alright, babe?” he asks gently, but you don’t respond. He slides into the seat Liam has vacated and grabs your hand. “Oi, look at me.”

His hands are warm in contrast to your cold ones, and the uses his one free hand to tilt your face toward his. You’re having a hard time making eye contact so he bends his head just enough so he’s in your line of sight. 

“There you are,” he smiles, “You want to tell me what’s wrong or do you want me to guess?”

You just look, chest rising and falling way too fast. 

“Right,” he says. “Let’s get your breathing under control. Breathe with me, yeah?”

You see the staff and team at Nelson Road filtering out of the cafe, so you focus on Jamie’s face and follow his breaths. 

“Okay, keep going like that. What else can we talk about? Oi, did you hear what fucking Roy did this morning? The lad’s fucking insane, he is. Strings around dicks? Can’t believe I almost lost mine, and on date night no less.” He winks. “You’d‘ve had his head for sure, love.”

You crack a smile at that. 

“Ey!” he says, “She lives!”

“I love you,” you tell him and he squeezes your hand. 

“She fuckin’ talks, too. What a woman.”

You think of a few snide replies, but you’re not too sold on talking just yet so you settle for silence. 

“Was it fucking Helen?” Jamie asks, “Bird’s more insane than Coach.”

You wiggle your head. Technically, it wasn’t just Helen, but she’s the one who’s been handing you the most assignments while also insisting on the stupidest breaks.��

“Bet it were Stephanie too,” he continues. “Babe, you’ve gotta fucking talk to Higgins or Ms. Welton or some shit. They’re using you like some personal servant and it ain’t right.”

You shrug and Jamie squeezes your hand again. “None of that,” he says. 

He’s not wrong. 

It’s just you two, alone, so he allows himself a moment to cup your face in one hand. “You’re good, yeah?” he asks. 

You take a deep breath and nod. “Yeah, I’m good.”

He grins and leans forward to kiss your forehead. 

“D’you want to ditch the rest of the day?” he asks and you give him a Look. 

You say, “I can’t ditch. I have too much to do and you can’t ditch because you have training.”

Jamie’s still grinning as he says, “Bet I could get out of it ‘cause of me injury and you could get out of it if you talked to Ms. Welton.”

“Absolutely not,” you reply, but he’s already standing up.

“Gonna talk to her about fucking Helen,” he says. “I’d bet my entire house that none of your shit is that big of an emergency.”

“No you won’t,” you call after him, “And anyway, she wouldn’t listen to you about any of it.”

Jamie’s basically already gone so he just shouts, “Ta,” as you sigh and get up to go back to your office. 

An hour later, you’re in the car with Jamie as he laments your lack of faith in him. “Told you Helen’s full of shit,” he says. “You’re going to be way better at her job than she ever was.”

“The fuck, Jamie,” you reply. “I still can’t believe you made me talk to Rebecca.”

He shrugs, one hand on the wheel. “I’m a dead good boyfriend, is what I am.”

You laugh. He certainly is that. 

[angelasscribbles]

Changes: A ONiC One-Shot

Series: One Night in Cordonia, a @choicesprompts Round Robin Event.

Fandom: TRR mostly

CRACKSHIP ALERT: Drake x Bertrand

Word Count: 1,593

Rating: NSFW

Warnings: Lemons 🍋🍋🍋

A/N: This pairing was initiated by @harleybeaumont during the round robin event titled One Night in Cordonia. I cannot remember who requested it or if it's something @harleybeaumont and I thought up during one of our epic late night discussions. Either way, it somehow got brought up today and I went to send her the little bit of it that has been sitting in my WiP folder forever, but once I opened the Word doc, I decided to add a few quick details and then just kept going until it was finished. 🙃

This was not the writing project I had intended to work on today, but I don't get to choose where the inspiration strikes.

It's pure smut. Just so you know.

The rest of my stuff can be found here.

Bertrand stood in the Beaumont study, surveying the damage and contemplating the last several weeks.

The terrorist group responsible for the attack had been rounded up, and the authorities had finally left. He was happy to reclaim his study from Bastien. They had left the room in disarray, and he set about tidying it up.

He was kneeling on the floor, examining a discolored spot on the carpet and muttering about the King's Guard's complete lack of decorum with the door to the study opened. Whoever it was hadn't even bothered to knock.

Bertrand leapt to his feet with indignation, "This is a private room! Have you no manners?"

An amused voice answered him. "No need to get up on my account."

Bertrand paled and took a step back as Drake ambled into the room like he owned the place. Shutting the door behind him, he ignored Bertrand's outburst about manners and smirked at him. "I like the way you look on your knees."

"I…don't know what you're trying to imply—"

"What?" Amusement danced across his face as he took in the other man's discomfort. "Have you forgotten the last time you were on your knees in front of me?"

The lord of Ramsford flushed from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. Burning with shame and, distressingly, desire, he stuttered out an answer. "I…. Of course not! I mean…. That's not what I—"

Drake took a step toward him with a smirk. "You were really good at it."

"I…that…." Bertrand took another step back, bumping into a bookshelf and sending a miniature statue of a horse crashing to the ground.

Drake continued his advance until he stood directly in front of the duke, blocking any chance of a dignified retreat. "Why are you so nervous?"

"I'm not!" Bertrand gulped loudly, belying his statement.

"No?" The bigger man shifted his weight slightly as he rested a hand on either side of his intended target.

Bertrand's eyes widened as shock, fear, and undeniable excitement flooded through him. He didn't trust his voice, so he simply shook his head.

A soft scoff issued from Drake as his eyes traced his face, settling on the set of lips that had brought him so much pleasure just a few weeks before.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

It was true that they had both been under the influence of some type of chemical that removed sexual inhibitions, but the fact remained that those impulses had to exist in the first place in order to be inhibited.

His disdain for Max's older brother had always masked a deeper emotion. Sexual attraction to other men wasn't new to him, but the realization that he had always been drawn to this particular man was.

"Tell me you don't want this." Drake's hand caressed Bertrand's cheek. "If you don't want me to kiss you right now, tell me to stop." He paused, giving the other man plenty of time to protest.

For a heartbeat, they stood frozen in time, face to face, staring into each other's eyes. Then Bertrand went weak in the knees as his eyes fluttered shut and his head tipped slightly up, lips parted, inviting the kiss.  

Drake's lips crashed into his and he was falling, tumbling into a vast unknown, terror and exhilaration colliding inside him.

Bertrand Beaumont had never been good with women. He didn't understand what they wanted, he didn't understand how to attract them. He had never felt much of a pull to them at all. But this. This was different.

He had kissed a handful of women in his time. Their lips had been soft and yielding and the entire experience had been somehow wrong and off putting. His previous experiences with kissing had been nothing like this. This kiss was rough and demanding, the stubble that scratched his face sent red hot flames licking through him. His hands reached out to grasp not soft flesh, but hard muscles. He whimpered helplessly as his body reacted. His rock hard erection was evident as Drake's body pushed into his.

He wanted to die of shame until he realized that Drake was having the exact same reaction. Their cocks pressed against each other through the fabric of their pants as their hips ground against each other.

Bertrand had never felt another man's cock pressed against his own before, much less while it was hard. The thought that Drake was hard because of him was almost more than he could bear. Desire burned all the embarrassment out of him as he begged for more. "Please… I need—"

Before he could finish the thought, strong hands spun him around and jerked him sidewise away from the bookshelf, and pressed him against the wall. His pants were yanked down his body, leaving his ass bare and his dick throbbing. A foot forced his legs apart as a finger found his puckered hole. His mind was so clouded with lust that he barely registered some sort of lube being applied before a finger probed inside him. Warm breath tickled his ear as a voice rough with desire whispered in his ear. "How does that feel?"

"So good…" he gasped out as an ecstasy he had never imagined washed over him.

A soft kiss landed on the back of his neck. "I'm going to fuck you now. Hold still."

Bertrand's eyes squeezed shut as his body vibrated with pleasure and anticipation. "Yes…. Please…."

A feral growl broke free from Drake's throat at the pleading tone of the man trembling under his touch. It was all he could do to keep himself from slamming into him. Instead, he inserted himself slowly and gently, sliding in an inch at a time, giving the other man a chance to adjust.

A cry of ecstasy was torn from him as Drake hit the prostate.

His name falling from Bertrand's lips was the end of his restraint. No longer gentle, he moved his body at a more desperate pace, pulling himself out and shoving back into the man who was now writhing frantically beneath him.

Bertrand's feet tried to come out from under him as all the strength left his body. Blackness clouded the edges of his vision as the pleasure became all encompassing. A hand closed around his cock and stars exploded across his field of vision as the orgasm overtook him.

Drake slammed into him one last time with a roar, pinning his body to the wall as he emptied himself into him. He kept his body pressed into him until his cock finished pulsing.

When he finally stepped away, Bertrand was left with his pants in an undignified tangle around his ankles, a pleasurable soreness and the proof of what had just transpired leaking out of him. He turned to face the man who had just taken his innocence and awakened desires in him that he had not known he possessed, tripping over his tangled pants as he did so.

"Whoa there!" Drake caught him and then stepped back with a satisfied smirk as he fastened his own pants.

Hyperaware of Drake's eyes on him, he scrambled to redress himself, ignoring the sticky mess on his backside. Not knowing what to say, his eyes dropped to the floor as both mortification and gratification pinged through him at what had just transpired.

"Hey." Drake's finger found his chin and lifted his head. With a smile more tender than he had ever seen on his face, he told him, "You did great."

The mortification drained out of him, pride and happiness taking its place. "Really?"

"Really." He looked closer at Bertrand's expression. "Wait. Was that your first time with a man?"

Bertrand's eyes fell once again to the floor. "My first time….with anyone." Kissing women had been bad enough, he had never been able to push himself further with any of them.

Drake's eyes widened in surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't know—"

"What?" Bertrand's head snapped up in alarm at the regret in Drake's voice. "Don't be sorry! That was…. It was… you were…. I mean…"

The smile returned to Drake's face as understanding dawned on him. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything else. I'm glad you liked it."

The alarm on Bertrand's phone went off, bringing him back to reality. "Apologies. I'm needed at a budgetary meeting soon."

"No problem. I have shit to do, too. See you around."

Panic sliced through him as he watched Drake make it to the door. "Wait!"

Drake paused and turned around. "Yeah?"

Bertrand fought against the tidal wave of insecurity and anxiety that threatened to silence him. For once in his life, he was going to ask for what he wanted. "Is there any chance we could… um…. " He faltered as embarrassment threatened to pull him under.

A grin pulled Drake's lips up as he watched Bertrand stumble over his words. He decided to put him out of his misery. "Are you asking if we can do this again?"

"Yeah." If he said no, Bertrand was going to drop right through the floor.

"You can count on it." Drake thumped the edge of the door frame on his way out, humming happily as he strolled down the hall.

Bertrand slumped against the wall as relief and disbelief surged through him.

He had no idea what this all meant. No idea what tomorrow would bring. There was only one thing that he knew for certain.

Everything was going to be different now.

[sotwk]

Holiday updates!

Unfortunately, it looks like I wouldn't be able to deliver on my Yuletide in the Elvenking's Realm this Christmas season, as I had planned. Although I have been having a very merry (albeit hectic) holiday season offline with my family, my Tumblr experience since Thanksgiving has been rather bah-humbug.

I'm not sure why; my Moots are being lovely as usual, but overall the vibes are off. Perhaps it is a *me* issue. I feel oddly out-of-place and even rejected because I noticed a weird, sudden drop in my follower count (by like 10+)--which is possibly a site glitch, but it's disconcerting nonetheless. I know Follower count doesn't matter here, but you cannot truly care about your Followers as individuals without tracking how many there are, could you? And I do happen to care about each person that chooses to follow me; I'm not cool enough to pretend not to notice.

Anywayyyyy... on top of that humbug-ness, I have been experiencing crippling writer's block for weeks. It's not even that I cannot seem to write; I actually am hating my writing right now! And when I try to read my talented friends' fics for inspiration, I just feel more disappointed in my own (perceived) lack of skill. This is a normal feeling for a writer that happens to everyone occasionally, but it's pretty bad. If this type of writer burnout is allowed to fester, it's what often leads writers to quit. So I'm trying to be careful and gentle with myself and not push too hard.

I don't want to work on any of my precious WIPS when I'm in this kind of mood; the sourness would seep into my writing! Especially my Yuletide series, which is supposed to be filled with joy and hope! So alas, that would just have to wait another year.

But now for some positive news! My dear husband has bought me a new laptop for Christmas! He's a stickler for rules and tradition, so I can't open it until Christmas Day, but once I set it up, my sister can give me her gift--the Scrivener software!

I've decided to spend the rest of December taking it easy by not pushing myself to produce anything; instead I will just try to set myself up for a strong start to 2025 when I come back from my post-Christmas vacation (going on a road trip to see family). The new laptop and software should give me a little boost! :) And I gotta go learn how to use Scrivener now--lol!

I hope everyone reading this is having as good a Christmas season as possible. <3 This is the time of year when I truly wish everyone can experience joy and peace, whatever or however you celebrate. If there is anything at all that I can do to help you be merry, my Ask Box and DMs remain open. Please know that you are very loved.

One the flipside, if anyone would like to send some Christmas joy my way, please sign my Christmas tree (I saw some Mutuals doing this!) and/OR give my Yuletide series a try! Every little bit of cheer helps!

Yuletide in the Elvenking's Realm Series (Tumblr link)

[voxofthevoid]

Poll time, yet again ❎

This isn't what I'd call a problem per se, but I'm writing at a pace my posting cannot keep up with, even with me currently posting 5 fics a month—4 for JJK from a roster of 5 and 1 for MCU/Bleach. This'd be fine, but posting for MCU and Bleach long after leaving those fandoms has made it clear that I will significantly slow down on posting for those regardless of the size of my backlog. While I continue to love sharing those stories, the editing process becomes more of a chore than usual, and I just...sit on those. I'd like to avoid that as much as possible with JJK.

I'm still very firmly in the JJK sauce and haven't slowed down any, but I'd rather do this while I'm at the zenith of my inspiration, so these fics (which are the longest among my unposted JJK fics) can see the light of Ao3 while they and I are both hot, so to speak.

I'm upping my ongoing JJK roster from five to six, though whether the updates will increase to five a month or stay four a month remains to be seen. I can handle both based on monthly energy levels and have drawn up schedules for each, but I might run another poll for that to see what y'all can take. But that's for later.

For now, pick a fic ✨

Descriptions, titles, and choice WIP Wednesday links for the fics under the cut. I'll reblog the poll once a day or so till it's over.

Amnesiac Yuuji

the ghost in me was true (but you were haunted too): No-Shibuya AU where Gojou sends Yuuji out of the country after he eats all the fingers. Yuuji goes AWOL a year in and reappears 12 years later without any memories. Gojou doesn’t deal with that too well. Goyuu.

Shibuya Swap

(this is also part of the story) how the story changes: Just as the PR ensnares Gojou, canon!Yuuji switches places with his older self from an alternate dimension where he’s Gojou’s teacher. Goyuu.

Mundane Unclekuna

bloodstains on the collar means just don't ask: Mundane AU Yuuji’s sexual awakening is his big, mean uncle and then his high school teacher makes him realize he just has a specific type in men. Goyuu and Sukuita.

Surprise Rut Sex

taking the flesh is the only virtue: Yuuji goes into premature rut after the vs Mahito arc, and Nanami ends up “helping” before Gojou shows up to escalate matters. Goyuu and Nanaita.

[codename-adler]

WIP Game: aftg television soundtrack project

I love everything going on with this, just constantly imagining it in my head with different lines and scenes and everything 💖💖💖

my beloved, beloved insane project... i've already spoken about this here and there on my blog (i will organize a tag now that i think about it, dw), but in short i'm imagining AftG as if it were adapted as a TV series (first it was films, but i can do more with a show, and HBO TLoU changed me as a person and writer). it was 3 seasons, one for each book, but i've added a 4th season for TSC, and will add another one or 2 depending on how many more books Nora Sakavic blesses us with.

what i did was, i extracted the most impactful scenes from each book, those that would fit a soundtrack moment. i've created a sort of PowerPoint presentation, like a mood board for the scene, of how i'm picturing it shot, the angles, the pace, the tempo, etc. it is very, very clear in my head how everything goes. i'm not kidding. making playlists is my passion, and one i excel at i believe, but it brings me so much joy, pride and satisfaction. it's also really good for my mental. in parallel to this, i've also got the aftg x tlou project, which was wholly inspired by @cielalune 's own Andreil tlou AU fic turn out the lights, which i will NEVER shut up about. i have found a true kinship in their writing and musicality and i will forever be grateful for finding them and getting to exchange. all this to say, the playlist-making/planning for that fic is very time-consuming and brain-obsessing.

now back to the purely soundtracked wip. i'll share one of the first scenes i imagined and that has yet to change. this is for you too @minyard-05 <3

All for the Game (S2): The Raven King

"Betsy closed the door behind them. Neil could just make out the sound of her engine starting, and then it was quiet. Andrew was gone." (p. 255)

the slide currently looks like this as i haven't gotten to editing S2 of the project, but rest assured this is in no way the final look:

i'm going for a sort of echo-y, daze-y, numbing eulogy. TFC ends with Seth's death, and in a way, TRK ends with Andrew's. luckily it is a good "death" as he will come out of this freer, himself, accepted. but it is a death nonetheless. death of his past. a point of no return. a definite cross on all of it. no going back. and he also cannot bury this under his skin like before. over it. it's all in plain sight now. for as unapologetic as he is, Andrew was hiding.

Neil loses his best friend. Neil reckons with another's demons, and loses to them, loses him to them. That closing door rings the gong. And it's quiet. As manic as he may have been, Andrew was never noisy and full of life. Still he is missed. His absence is an abyss. It's not peaceful without the "monster"; it's deafening silence.

and the title of the song, too, is so perfect. Andrew leaving Neil behind that closed door, in that moment, means he is letting go of what he thinks is a hallucination. Neil will only be a memory now. he does not know yet Neil isn't a pipedream at all.

but both men will hold on to the memory of each other to survive what comes next.

[butmakeitgayblog]

Okay but I just know that Lexa gives the best hugs 😤 If they ever had the opportunity, I just KNOW Clarke would be making use of Big Strong Invisible MusclesTM all the time and absolutely koala-hugging the shit out of her ��

Never question that Lexa was a fantastic hugger. Look at the sheer relief on her face. You can see the piece of her soul within the chip sighing in joy at just holding Clarke again. The way had hands gripped at Clarke's back and pressed her in tighter. Commander noddle arms was an amazing hugger through and through ok 🥺

Just because the blog has felt so gd negative tonight here, a Clexa hug from the canon wip I got going, because why not. We deserve the fluff

/////////

It's hard for Clarke to keep it together when yet another piece of her heart turns to shrapnel, jagged and deathly in its destruction. It makes old wounds sting like new as she adds the confession to the mountain of sins she cannot fix for them, for anyone, by sheer will alone. Because she would. So many pieces of her scream in duty-bound rebellion with how much she needs Lexa to know that she would do anything to fix the ache of her absence - to wash away the nights spent apart and spare them both. 

She would, if only she could.

Clarke hugs her. There's really nothing else for it. There's nothing that feels as right in that moment more than surging closer, stretching her arms to loop around Lexa's neck and pull her in. 

“I'm here now,” Clarke says, and seals her paltry offering with a kiss to the column of Lexa's throat.

She ignores her captive's flustered start at the tenderness and tucks into Lexa. Any worry for how she clings more than she means too is left for another day as her arms tighten at the burst of that familiar scent that is entirely Lexa; all forest greenery mixed with the clean scent of her sweat against skin that carries lingering notes of some floral sweetened soap. 

The coil of muscle and sinew in her arms turns into a mass of Commander-shaped jelly when Lexa melts into the touch, knees seeming to buckle with how fiercely she folds into the hug. Her arms cinch around Clarke's waist so tightly it nearly lifts her onto the tips of her toes; hip bones pressing to hip bones, ribs crushed to ribs. 

They hold each other in the creaking silence of the hut so long Clarke's feet pool in pins and pricks, offering little else more than sniffles buried into coat sleeves and armor and the syncing of juddered heartbeats. The buckles of Lexa's coat dig into Clarke's stomach and the pommel of her sword knocks rough against her hip, but she can't bring herself to care. Not when she's this close. Not when every press of Clarke's lips to Lexa's throat is mirrored against her own, tender in its supplication. 

The hands that hold her feel restless against her back. Constant in their moving, gentle in their caress. They rub languid circuits from her shoulders to the tops of her hips, as though Lexa can't quite control the need to touch her as much as humanly possible, and it's only when Clarke opens her eyes just to see that face again, that she loosens her hold and slowly, so slowly, inches herself away. 

Lexa doesn't let her go far. Keeps her right where she wants her with a dig of fingertips against leather and spine, temple resting against temple and cheek against kohl smudged cheek. She fills all the spaces Clarke has missed her touch.

Heat traces over her skin in Lexa's shaky exhale as the snuggle-inclined warlord nuzzles closer, tickling the plump bow of her lips along Clarke's chin and up, until Clarke doesn't know where one breath ends and another begins. Eyes sparkle under the hang of long lashes. Lips drift closer, closer to the warmth of Clarke's mouth.

“May I?”

Two sets of lungs hiccup in the wake of Lexa's whispered plea, the vulnerability of it stinging with just how small she sounds - as though she still doubts this. As though Lexa has no idea that the memory of her mouth and her taste and the sweet bite of her teeth were the only things that's kept Clarke sane in her misery for all these weeks. 

Clarke's mouth tugs into a smile at the question.

Even more as their lips brush when she speaks. 

“Please.”

///////

[sendpseuds]

WIP Wednesday - Lifeguard AU

I have been having so much fun with this premise and cannot wait for the whole @obikinlifeguardau collection. The possibilities are absolutely endless!

In my yet-to-be-named Lifeguard AU we have Lifeguard!Anakin attempting to teach a very frustrated Obi-Wan how to swim. This is a bit of a longer snippet but I couldn't help myself.

Enjoy!

🛟

"Oh, for fuck's sake!"

"Dude!" Anakin exclaims, smacking his palm down on the surface in a clearly practiced motion, hitting Obi-Wan dead on with a small startling spray, "Would you chill the fuck out!?"

Obi-Wan is so caught off guard the only thing he can think to say is, "Excuse me?"

"Do you want to learn to swim or not?"

His voice is serious and so is his expression and suddenly Obi-Wan remembers why they're here.

"Look, man, you're not completely hopeless, okay?" Anakin says, taking a step closer, small waves rippling the surface as he moves, running a rough hand through wet curls and tugging harshly at a stubborn snarl, "I get that you're not starting from scratch but you have to know you're not a strong swimmer, and if I had to guess, there's another reason you didn't jump into the deep end."

Obi-Wan's brow wrinkles at that.

"What do you mean?" he asks, crossing his arm over his chest defensively.

"Water scares you," Anakin replies like it's obvious and Obi-Wan feels his cheeks heat with a caustic cocktail of anger and embarrassment but before he can argue, the young man shrugs and adds, "It scares me too."

The laugh that escapes Obi-Wan’s lungs comes out like a bark, loud and harsh, but for the last half hour now he's been watching Anakin glide through the water like he's made for it — like he was never meant to be a creature of the land in the first place — so comfortable in his weightlessness, so confident, so in control.

"I'm serious," Anakin says, the hard look in his flat stare and the low timber in his voice reflecting his words, "Water is dangerous. It's the most destructive force on Earth. It will swallow you whole if you're not careful—"

"This is not exactly helping—"

"And that is why you need to stop fighting it."

It does feel like he's fighting it, Obi-Wan realizes.

Like he's fighting for his life.

It feels like he's trying to prove a point.

Like he's trying to grab hold of something that cannot be grasped and rein it in, bring it to heel.

Like he's in the throws of battle, grappling for his right to air.

It feels like war.

"I can teach you to move with the water instead of against it. I can teach you to harness it."

Anakin's voice is breathless and dripping in a burning passion that heats his cheeks and speeds Obi-Wan’s pulse when he suddenly realizes how close they're standing.

Close enough to see the aqua water reflecting in eyes like a summer sky.

Close enough to feel the waves from Anakin's movements lapping against his skin.

Close enough that Anakin barely needs to reach out to place a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"I can help you, Obi-Wan," he says, voice barely above a whisper and the older man can't stop himself from leaning in, "but you have to let me."

There's nothing he can say, the look of deep sincerity in those cerulean eyes stealing all words from Obi-Wan's throat before he can cough them up.

Obi-Wan nods.

Anakin smile.

"You also have to stop being such an asshole."

Suddenly, Obi-Wan has the near-irresistible desire to drown himself.

"Anakin," he says quickly, cringing slightly at just how fond the name sounds in his mouth, "I am so sorry, I didn't mean—"

"I'm just fucking with you," Anakin grins teasingly, squeezing Obi-Wan’s shoulder reassuringly, the young man's touch lingering on his naked skin for a few charged moments before he releases his grip, long fingers just barely tracing the swell of his bicep — an absent gesture that makes Obi-Wan feel a bit dizzy. "Relax," he insists, his smile so bright Obi-Wan has to blink, "You don't have to prove anything to me."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan breathes, clearing his throat when his voice comes out strangled, "I think I needed to hear that."

Anakin nods in acknowledgment, sinking back into the pool, submerging himself almost completely, his nose and eyes still peeking out of the water like he feels most comfortable beneath the rippling surface. For a few long moments, he stays just like that, his eyes never leaving Obi-Wan's face, his gaze so intense, the older man needs to look away.

"I think it's really cool," Anakin says quietly — shyly — his voice pulling Obi-Wan's attention back to the young man and his glistening pink lips hovering just above the water's surface, "that you want to learn, I mean."

"You do?" Obi-Wan can't help but ask in return, letting his body sink under the water as Anakin has hoping to calm the bashful blush heating his cheeks.

"Yeah," Anakin confirms with a shrug, everything about him shiny with youth, "Takes balls."

That makes Obi-Wan laugh.

"Because I'm old?"

"No."

The single word hangs in the air for several long moments — Anakin's answer so sincere it makes Obi-Wan shiver.

"Well then," he says when the silence becomes suffocating, "where do we start?"

[snowivyimconfusi]

Currently writing a season 1 swanqueen one shot. I did think about making it a multi chapter fic, and it would've worked, but I have so many WIPs right now I cannot add another one to the list 😭.

I do think this will be good, maybe a bit disconnected. But good.

[hythlodaeus-mynewoldfriend]

Mayncient Day 23: Dearest

Get Along Without You

Had the first part in my wips for ages and had sudden inspiration for this day so here it is for you all! no warnings. word count 1.4k

They’re both lucky enough to have a full moon that casts enough light in the darkest parts of the city to allow them to walk in peace. Lucky enough that when they do finally come to a spot in the empty park there’s just enough shadow to allow for their masks to be removed.

Conner sits closer to the path, letting his height add protection to Elidibus’ identity despite it being well into the hours that any sane person would be in bed. Even with the white mask and black robes the Emissary still fears the potential backlash should he be found with Conner, a sentiment that he understands. Yet in this moonlit spot Conner can see the man relax as if they were behind closed doors, a smile playing on his lips as he watches Elidibus look up at the stars. “It’s quiet tonight,” he says, his white hair blowing gently in the small breeze, “something I wouldn’t expect of this place. Always noise. People, kids, and little animals during the day.”

“It's nice.” Conner inhales deeply, smiling and looking up at the sky also, “This has become my favorite time of day now.”

Elidibus frowns, “It used to be dawn.”

Conner shrugs, “It's still the early morning technically. Besides, a person’s favorite time of day can change or also just have multiple favorites.”

“Not with you Conner. You were-.”

“You’re not going to change my mind on being with you Elidibus,” he assures, “I know back then it felt like there were no consequences because it was just sex, but I still could have left when this became a lot more than that. I know what air we must put on when the white robes are on and we are at work keeping a little closer to the shadows, a small price to pay to have the times like this where you are better dressed for the shadows and yet do everything except stay in them.”

“If only we never had to in the first place. Do you not wish to be more open at work? Among friends?”

“I think in all cases there is a certain kind of secrecy when in a working environment out of professionalism so not much would change on that front really. As for friends, well,” Conner chuckles, shaking his head, “we already are, as they know not to ask too many questions. You remember how Hythlodaeus’ partner was when we happened to cross paths as the two were making their way home?”

The memory brings a small smile back to Elidibus’ face, “I do not believe I had ever seen Anthea more authoritative than in that moment.” He sighs, shoulders relaxing as he leans against Conner, fingers becoming entwined with his, “I just wish that I, as Themis, can be enough for you as Elidibus certainly cannot be.”

Conner tilts his head upward, caressing his jawline to let his hand become loosely entangled in the long white hair. He brings his lips down softly to his, the chill of the night air disappearing in an instant even as Conner pulls away just far enough to whisper, “It will never matter to me who you are. You are by my side right now and that is enough.”

It isn’t enough in this time of calamity when Elidibus recalls that moment as the skies darken and people flee below the earth. Things are going to plan as he can feel that starting fusion of worlds, of another piece of Zodiark stitched by his brethren, and of the decimation of a world he never cared to know. He stopped trying to get to know the people of those broken worlds after they were successful in rejoining the first piece to Him. What was the point when they weren’t supposed to exist to begin with? He’d stick to those that would become whole once again.

It was a third attempt to see if there was something more to it all, if The Shepherd on the moon was right to have abandoned them all those years ago like Emet-Selch had said. Three attempts and this would be the last. He can already see how this one ends, can already feel the slow crawl of grief that’s never sat nicely since the world he knew fell apart, can see this version doing what Elidibus can only assume happened the first time. 

These people don’t have magic yet that doesn’t stop this incarnation of Conner weaving through destruction getting as many as he can underground. He’s had several close calls with the smoke engulfing him and lightning starting to rain down and still it does not deter the man….and each time it causes a panic to rise in Elidibus briefly. Each time he wonders if this will be the moment he witnesses the death of his dearest and so he intervenes in ways imperceptible to those of this era. His brethren would scoff at the intervention, and he can’t blame them, this is only one man and what was a single man compared to the many they were working on bringing back? The preservation of this one man is not worth the whole of the star. 

Yet how would they know that this one man, his soul on its first journey in this new world, was the only reasoning he could find to let them continue with what they were doing. That maybe, just maybe, he could have the power to bring him back, get back that little piece of his heart that was given in exchange for the hopes of many. To see those blue eyes framed by ebony hair once again, to hear his laughter when they tried to dance and Elidibus couldn’t help but try to take the lead which had their legs tangled as they fell to the ground, to feel his own heart race when their eyes would meet in the Convocation building knowing what could come next. To experience the smell of the various herbs and plants he kept just for the joy of it once more, and to taste the cool moonlight on Conner’s lips as the sun rose to remind them of duty that always won. This one man was a reminder of what he sacrificed…. 

And what a mistake it was to have indulged in this fantasy.

Their time together was bliss. The way they met almost like the first time, but it wasn’t uncertainty about his new appointment that kept him silent, but the instant recognition of his eyes among features that were nothing like Conner. Elidibus didn’t need to check the color of his soul to know it was him, though he did anyway, it was enough to have those soulful eyes look at him once more. Enough to bring him back to this incarnation and strike up conversation after conversation in an openness Elidibus hadn’t known when the world was whole. To create a fleeting life within that freedom and to fall once more for someone that was a close approximation to the man he lost. Yet fleeting is all this ever was, even if he was to live to be old and grey a few decades is nothing in the centuries Elidibus has lived. He knows this and still it hurts. Still it hurts to see them all leave in ways that feel unnatural, after centuries of witnessing and being the cause of millions of deaths he still cannot stop the torturous pain from enveloping him. He wants to be free of this cycle….

So this will be the last time he lives among them. The last time he will go searching for those he once knew. The last time he will let himself be distracted by the doubts that plague his mind. The last time he will let himself recall or create memories to hold onto. After this Calamity he will once again put duty above all else. 

But first he will get this incarnation of Conner to the fleeting safety of the ground. Will stay with him for the last two months he has before returning to the sea to begin once again. Will hold him during his last breaths and mourn with the others before disappearing into the shadows, where he will stay dressed in white to perform his duty like he did so long ago. All the while holding onto the fact that he for just a moment had Conner right by his side….

….and it wasn’t enough….