#I did not follow the outline I made for this chapter LOL this was an unpredictable chapter even to me

[sanchoyo]

you know what. I planned out my entire nanowrimo novel in a month then wrote double the length last november bc i had an outline to work off of. so like. theres absolutely no reason i couldnt just blitz a script for the comic in like, a month? I KNOW i can write fast jkdhjkad i could def do that...less excuses not to finish it if its already p much entirely planned in detail, right? 🤔

[jules-writes-stories]

I had a couple of asks about WIP Wednesday (including a playlist!) so wanted to post a blurb for Chapter 6. I threw a playlist together really quick. They're songs I listened to while outlining/ made me think of the story, setting, and characters. All vibes. No order or hidden message. This is not my strength, lol. 🖤

The Night Court Lounge | Tribeca, NYC | Ch 1-5 on AO3

Azriel x Eris

Chapter 6 (Excerpt)

Tribeca, NYC

“Lemme guess. Black hoodie?” Akon’s eyes peered back in the rear view mirror. 

Eris saw Azriel’s figure the same time his driver did. Of course he would do something reckless like walk up the island of Manhattan in the early hours of the morning. The pretty man clearly enjoyed stressing him out. 

Eris took a breath. No good would come of acting distraught.

They followed him down a cobbled street to an overpass that crossed over a highway below. Steam rose over manholes. Squares of light from empty, lit office buildings reflected off rain slicked streets. 

The car slowed to drive alongside Azriel. He wore Airpods and his hands were stuffed in his pockets. Eris rolled down his window.

After several seconds, Az turned to look directly at Eris and his eyes grew wide. Something like embarrassment and rejection passed across the man’s face, before it froze into a cool mask of neutrality. He pulled his dark hood up and picked up his pace. 

His beloved bat was growing fangs… 

Akon’s eyes flicked up to meet Eris’s and laughter shined in those dark pools. He needed no directions as he began to drive alongside the petulant pedestrian. 

“Azriel. Will you at least tell me why you stormed off?” Eris called out of the slowly moving vehicle, his voice laced with humor.

Hazel eyes were brazen as they narrowed at Eris. There was the magnificent creature in his submissive. Jealousy made a beast of Azriel. And Eris had the strange impulse to pet the beast, to soothe it. 

Azriel pulled out his earbuds and faced the car. They were stopped on the overpass now. Traffic flashed below like a river of light through the chain link fence behind him. 

Eris could tell the younger man was struggling, was on a precipice. And he considered… In business, it was customary to offer a concession. Eris would give something, and then, perhaps, Azriel, the silly man, would get in the car. 

“Azriel. I can’t fix it, if I don’t know what’s wrong.” Eris tried to keep his voice reasonable. This was him being reasonable. He was being… Yes, reasonable was the word. 

The beautiful man stalked towards the car. “Why did you even follow me? What do you want?” 

Eris felt that prickle of panic, control slipping once more.

Thesan’s words clanged through him.  Be vulnerable with him, or end it… All or nothing.

And the thought of ending it, of not seeing those hazel eyes or that shy smile, the way Azriel’s dark lashes fluttered against his cheekbones when Eris praised him. No. He did not like that idea at all. And panic grew at the thought. 

In fact, if Eris was being completely honest, he wanted to learn more. Who were his favorite artists? When was his birthday? Why did everyone at the Night Court feel the need to protect him and what happened to his hands?

Be reasonable. The last time Eris fell, it had been for Thesan. And it had cost him a year of his life.

What did he want? Right now? 

“I want you to get in my car. And talk to me.” Eris kept his voice level, even as the authority he was accustomed to using slipped through his timbre. He pushed it aside. This was not the bedroom or the boardroom-- this was a highway overpass, and he wanted this man. 

Azriel stepped closer, backpack slung over a shoulder. “You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you, Eris?”  His tone was icey, but there was something soft and needful in his gaze. 

Eris stepped out of his car and leaned against the door. He crossed his arms over his chest. They stared at each other beneath the fuzzy glow of the street lamps. The hum of traffic rattled the overpass. 

“What if I want you?”

Please let me know if you ever want on/off the tag | @the-darkestminds @fieldofdaisiies @mistandmemories @secret-third-thing @chunkypossum @talibunny30 @amalhe-kofee @shadowsandlint @queercontrarian @molcat07 @c-starstuff-man0 @lovely-vanserra-sunshine @hieragalbatorixdottir @brunetterebel010 @pippsmcgee @theartofmischief @born-to-riot

[littlecrittereli]

It's been a long time since I watched Wild Kratts but I didn't even know he had a fandom, I'm so happy, and your story made my dream come true, I would love to create a story like you, but I'm not very good at writing stories What tips would you give to a beginner <3

I don't consider myself a super great author to be honest, I'm much more confident in my illustrations! But as someone who is completely self taught: here are some tips I use when I write my stories! (these may not apply to everyone, but they do help me) Outlines

If I'm writing a plot-based story I make an outline of all the major plot points I want to make and separate them into chapters. I reference this outline when I'm writing a chapter and it helps me meet all my "goals" for that particular chapter! Of course you can be flexible with this. Say one of your plot points dragged out a little too long and you want to save something for the next chapter, you can adjust your outline as you go! Sometimes your idea will change as you write it, and that's okay! revise your outline accordingly. For me, it's handy so I don't end up spiralling completely off the path I intended and lose the conclusion I wanted to have. Here's an example of the outline for my Reprogrammed AU. (Only chapters 1-5 to prevent spoilers for unreleased chapters)

as you can see, it doesn't have to be super formal. This is literally just in my notes app. As long as you can understand and follow your ideas, that's all that matters.

Get a Beta Reader!

I do not actually have a beta reader currently, but sending your writings to someone to proofread is one of the best ways to get genuine feedback. Try to find someone who is also pretty educated on proper grammar. I learned more about proper formatting from a fanfiction beta reader than I did in school im so fr. At the very least, make sure this person is comfortable with giving you constructive criticism. If something reads a little awkward or if a plot point doesn't make much sense/could be solved with an easier method, it's a lot easier for someone to point out when they didn't write the piece.

Study fanfictions/books you enjoy

Honestly... just reading a lot has made me a better writer. You will begin to notice the way authors describe certain feelings or environments, and that can give you insight on how to go about writing your own ideas. If I find an author I really like, I will try to dissect WHY I like them so much. Is it their accurate characterization? Do they describe emotions well? Are their plots engaging? Is their dialogue interesting? Find out what makes their writing so interesting so you can incorporate those traits into your own story. This goes for the way they format their writing as well. For example, I've found I prefer when chapters are around 1k-5k words. Really short chapters can make the story seem choppy when the reader has to constantly click to the next page, it kinda breaks the immersion of the story. Instead I try to use chapter breaks as interesting pausing points for suspense. I love it when authors leave their chapter on a slightly unfinished note. So I'm curious for the next chapter, but also I feel fulfilled with what I've read so far. And I've discovered this by analyzing the stories I enjoy!

And the most important advice I can give.... PRACTICE PRACTICE PRACTICE!!!!

Writing is similar to drawing in the sense that in order to learn, you must DO it. You have to make the shitty stuff before you find out how to make it better! It's honestly just part of the creative process. I still have some short stories I wrote back when I was a preteen and ITS BAD LOL but I needed to go through that in order to learn and grow and be more confident in my storytelling capabilities. And just like illustrations, everyone starts at a different place and everyone's process is different. SO BE PATIENT AND DON'T GIVE UP! Write that story! Even if it's bad, who cares?! You wrote something! And next time, you will write something even better!

[paunchsalazar]

hey so I really enjoyed your kyokao longfic and i was wondering what the writing process was like since im planning on writing a fanfic (first time).

did you plan anything with an outline? or did you wing it?

anyways thanks in advance (and btw im doing another reread of your fic, it's so narratively satisfying!!)

omg woah first!!! thank you so much!!! that is seriously the most touching thing to possibly hear T-T

This is going to be such a long-winded answer but I definitely did not wing it!!! apologies for the long post but I love to see behind the curtain and think about process so...

That fic was my first multi-chapter story and waaaay longer than anything else I’ve ever made… so I kinda had no idea where to start. I wanted to make a rough outline to see if it was even feasible - was there a beginning, middle, and end? Even a super hazy one? before jumping in and writing a whole long project… (I had no idea how long it would be, but knew it was definitely longer than a few thousand words.)

it started as a timeline - trying to keep track of all the canon events via bonus chapters and sketches, then working to fill in the gaps with headcanons. Even though Ouran is silly, by the end they’re operating within a normal timeline lol….

After filling out a lot of the timeline with headcanons then organizing them in chronological order.. started to see the plot/opportunities for change - in the characters, their relationships, the state of their lives - especially with school, moving, etc. all of the above

I tried to make myself a guide to keep organized lol (totally unnecessary, but helped me keep track of things!)

the timeline started as bullet points - if there are any settings or occasions that would justify an “episode” - major holidays, group trip, etc. At least with Ouran, I tried to play around with the settings - The host club has unlimited resources which is a rare luxury… but wanted to keep in the realm of what they might do + think about fancy rich people things they hadn’t yet covered “on screen”

From there, it went to sub-bullet points, then trying to nail down each beat I'd want to cover - through narration or dialogue

It's hard to pin it down but sometimes certain moments - a visual, an exchange of dialogue - play out really clearly in my head… so would occasionally find that moment and then reverse engineer what would lead to that, then follow the thread to where it would potentially go…

Usually went in chronological order or at least made a list of beats all the way through, but then would jump back and forth to fix little things or add in details I realized needed to move sooner/be foreshadowed…

Outline/timeline > beats > rough draft > going line by line to edit + then hopping around to fix things accordingly

I had a lot of different docs... just because they get so big

+ I like to put unfinished things in blue (or any color, I like blue because red feels more negative to me lol) and then change them to black when they feel "locked" or at least like they're functioning. It helps me keep track of how much is left to do + makes it easier to find spots that need attention!

+ also like to have a "cutting room" document for everything I cut/don't know where to put/is redundant in case I want to use it for later, or even just to try to see what I was going for!! I've found it to come in handy down the line

Here are some examples of the WIP bullet points/blurbs lol... I also like to make "off-screen" notes to myself just to keep in mind, I did have a friend beta-reading some parts, but kinda do this for myself anyway just to keep it in mind.

From there it was just writing and rewriting... I usually go through a scene from the beginning and read until something trips me up, try to either fix it or make note of what the intention was and then go on to the next beat. I went chapter by chapter, in order, and tried to get each locked before going on to the next one.

Should also note that this fic took me a long time!! And I wasn't working on it with a super set schedule. It was purely for fun, so I just worked on it when I felt like it (and as it grew, I found myself wanting to work on it more and more! so it was exciting more than a chore).

I talked to friends about it, even if just kinda laughing about headcanons or jokes, and had a few people read through the beats and a few scenes to see if it flowed/if the dialogue sounded in character!

+ I did a lot of revisiting the source material or even just watching a clip when I felt like I was losing their voices. Idk if it was that successful... but it helped to keep them in mind!!

Anyway... I can only speak for what works for me! and I think a lot of these habits are coming from my storyboarding workflow.

Writing is so personal and there is bound to be trial and error!! I hope that you have so much fun writing, whatever approach you take!!!!!

Also what thank you so much for reading my fic at all and for your kindness!! If you ever publish your fic, please send me a link!!! even if it is ages from now!!!!!

[toothpastecanyon]

Are you the one that made the su x gf crossover abt dipper and mabel getting ubducted + if u where how was it going to end (if u planned ahead lol) bc it has been in the back of my mind for so longgg! Ik u prob won't update it I was just wondering if u could share the general overview.

Ty <3

Hi, wow, that's a blast from the past! I did write Adventures in the Human Zoo back in 2018 (when I was 17, wow) - I'm so glad you enjoyed it!

After I saw your message, I went back into my files and found the draft document. I put together some of the scraps I'd written for chapter 10 here if you'd like to read them!

As for how it ended, I had a very rough outline for how it was going to go but it's not very descriptive. I think I struggled to keep the story on track after I had Mabel break her leg, that felt like kind of a jarringly dark plot choice I had no idea how to follow up on after I posted it haha.

I think I had some idea to have Dipper cause a disturbance in the Human Zoo the same way Steven did, escape, and find Mabel. Meanwhile Stan and Ford end up teaming up with the Crystal Gems after a misunderstanding and they go to Lars' ship and rescue everyone from the Human Zoo.

I hope, even though I wasn't able to finish this fic, this answered some questions for you! It makes me really happy that someone liked it enough to reach out to me <3

[achaotichuman]

Surprise self-rec time! Pick 3 of your favorite things you’ve written and share them here, then put this in the inbox (anonymously or not) of your fellow writers to spread the positivity and help celebrate already written fics

OMG YES I LOVE THIS!!!!!!

A Witch A Warrior And A Reckoning

I am super proud of this one, it's the first piece of writing I've made where I outlined everything and prepped before actually going ahead and posting (Im usually a *follow the vibe* kinda guy) My writing style is pretty developed now and I think it really shines through with this one. Especially because of how many of my OC's are featured here.

Summary-

Life is peaceful for Dahlia Fairburn, running with her War Band, and commanding the Spring Court armies. Since the day she could wield a sword, she's been helping her father, along with her younger brother, to restore Spring to its former glory. Trying to ignore the festering magic in her body, that threatens to consume her.

One day, all that peace is threatened to be shaken, as a certain prince of Night asks for her to join the rebellion of the Hewn City and Illyria. From beneath the great mountains, an ancient song calls for her. She meets a woman with death in her eyes, and power in her veins, who makes Dahlia's blood boil while something clicks into place between them.

This new generation of Prythian was thought to be one of peace and prosperity. But the mask of the reigning High Lords begin to crumble, as secrets older than Prythian itself are uncovered, and darkness is unleashed.

An ACOTAR next generation fanfiction

How Nesta Archeron Learned To Trap A Beast

I never thought in a million years this would get nearly the amount of attention that it did, but it is now my most popular fic to date. I started writing it because of a poll @kateprincessofbluewhales did about who would take Nesta on a camping trip instead of the Hike from Hell. And an anon suggested Tamlin. I was like "lol that would be so funny" and now it has over 225 kudos and 130 subscriptions

Summary-

When given the choice of being locked up in the House of Wind with the male she despises, or returning to the Human Lands where she will no doubt face certain death. Nesta Archeron takes her chances and decides to return to the Mortal World. However, she is going on her own. After catching a ship and landing herself in Summer, Nesta makes her way through the Spring Lands with one goal in mind, make it to her old home alive without being trapped by any other beastly Faeries.

Little did she know she might be the one catching the beastly Faery.

Crippled by memories and loneliness weighing down on him, Tamlin is near the verge of ending it all. His home is in ruins, his only company the dripping in the corner of the room and sometimes the singing of birds. As his thoughts spin him in circles Tamlin doesn't think life will ever be better than this. Then someone with silver eyes and bad attitude sets foot in his lands.

And well.... Tamlin had never been taught to not poke sleeping bears.

A Court of Song and Desolation

This fic was born from the vibes it has. I was up at 2am on a random Monday night with work the next day, and my writing group sent through a prompt for us to write about. I was struggling with what to write, and then as I was typing something about a beast in a cage, the idea came to make it about Tamlin. Yada yada yada, I turned it into an angsty Tamcien oneshot, and decided "well if anyone wants more (which I doubt they will) Ill make another chapter" Then someone commented they want more and I was sent down the pipeline of hyperfixation. And here we are!

Summary-

She had eyes like starlight and a grin that could outshine the moon, "We'll rule the world."

"What if we fail?"

"Then we'll burn it all down."

In hindsight maybe it could only have ever ended like this. Making a man who was never made to rule, High lord. This was all inevitable.

With his Court in ruins and everyone gone, Tamlin lives amongst the broken pieces of his Court and has no intentions of changing that. Lucien, however, will not stand to leave his oldest friend alone.

When Lucien takes Tamlin back to the human lands, they discover a darkness coming for Prythian. If something does not stop it, it will completely rewrite the way Faeries and humans alike live as they know it

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Happy Storyteller Saturday!

When you finish a first draft, how does it look? Is it readable or does it have more holes than a swiss cheese? What are your next steps, and how much changes?

Hey Elli! Happy STS!

First of all - I believe every idea is at least somewhat salvageable. I hope to one day get to the point where I somehow managed to adapt the short stories I "wrote" when I was in kindergarten.

Okay my first drafts are...weird. They differ greatly from most people. Let's talk about a few examples so I can explain.

The Secret Portal

Started as a school project in fourth grade (age 10). It is readable but it's so silly. Mainly because I was ten. I've somehow managed to string it together into what it is now but the first act is the only recognizable thing.

The second version of TSP I wrote over a year later. My first step was to make it longer and have chapters. That was about it.

The third version was about a year after that. I decided I didn't like my story ideas to be stretched out across a whole book, so I combined the first two books into one. I alternated the POV and worked more on the details. My descriptions and characterization was better, though I was constrained by the limitations of following the older drafts.

The fourth version was a year and a half after that. We're nearing the end of eighth grade - I'm 14. I'd done a lot of other writing but I decided to go back to TSP. This time, I had full scenes and character introductions and even a halfway decent (emphasis) prologue. Pacing was getting better, and the story beats made more sense. I alternated POV, but realized the need for it being very deliberate whose perspective I was in.

One hole I figured out was how to differentiate my heroes and villains. Jedi and Carmen originated as villain roles but when I thought about it making them good, or honestly extremely morally gray, made a lot more sense. I soon developed a plot, a world, character arcs...

While I refer to all of it as Draft Four, I kept up with this version for so long there are technically multiple drafts of TSP in this section. I didn't start the document over until 2021.

How did I go on from here? Well, I focused on refining story beats. Characters and their voices. General pacing and descriptions. World building.

So definitely not a traditional process lol.

More detailed behind the scenes is linked in my intro post

School of the Legends

I basically hit the reset button every time. I had the idea of "fairy tale retelling" for years.

For SOTL, I did write a dual first person POV short story with Úrsula and Beau and discover third person worked better. But as SOTL it technically only has five chapters drafted. I'd say that just tossing out everything worked here.

Other

Most of the others I wrote as a kid and as I grew older I modified it to my current maturity level, taking the same plot points and fleshing them out. When I was 13+ I started outlining and planning more details and characters. More plot twists and arcs.

Sooo I don't really have the typical first draft experience. Essentially what I do is this:

Nothing is unsalvageable.

Figure out what is salvageable.

Write down ideas I have during reading old drafts.

Identify the holes.

Figure out how to fill the holes/brainstorm

Figure out everything you still don't know

???

Profit

Hope this was a satisfactory answer lol

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @fairy-tales-of-yesterday

[highhhfiveee]

fucking finally!

hi hi all [: i’m sorry it’s taken me a bit longer to get this message out, i’ve just been overwhelmed by life and other things, but i finally feel able and ready to put out this message! i’m so excited to share with you all the things i’d like to do with the rest of this year!

safety net, part five

the news that everyone’s been waiting for: safety net part five will be out on june 25th! i’ve been editing it over the last few days and while editing makes my brain sound like a fucking helicopter, i’m setting a deadline so that i don’t just push it off when the material is there lol. i’m happy with the little portion i’ve edited so far, so i’m excited to continue with the rest of it. if i finish editing earlier than that, it’ll be up earlier! The 25th is just my hard deadline. [:

the future of safety net (plus a disclaimer)

with that said, i’ve decided to forgo a set amount of parts. i originally planned to tell the full story over 8 parts, but taking that long break helped me step back and really think about what i wanted to get across with y/n's story.

i also wanted to mention that safety net isn’t meant (and has never) to glamorize or romanticize sex work! i am overwhelmingly supportive of the sex work industry and those that take part in it, and i wanted to steer away from making it seem that i was anti-sex work while on the other end, making sure that i didn't paint sex work as this perfect thing (there's more exposition to this in coming parts).

to me, the story is an examination of the impact of sex, wealth, status, and romance on a girl who had been expecting anything else from her journey. i chose to make mike a pornstar not for flashiness or a “thrill”, but because i think his journey through his career and its impact on his life reflects y/n’s in a way. i hope this makes sense lmao. i just wanted to be very clear and direct that “pornstar” is more than just mike’s role in the AU, but something that means something to him, his identity and those around him. [:

with that said, i decided that i’m gonna leave the number of parts a little more flexible, but capped at 12 parts MAX. when i first started planning and writing safety net, i did not think you all would love it as much as you do 😭 your enjoyment made (and still makes!) me so so happy, but it also made me re-evaluate the progression of the story, so i’ve decided to expand on some things [: the tone and language of these next chapters may be different as well, as i’ve had more time to outline, plan, and think about every word.

i've also planned a few "behind the scenes" fics, but more on that when the time's right.

the future of faire's fics

i have not abandoned any of the other mike AUs! i still have so many ideas for all of them, but at the forefront is the next part of the drinks series, taking us through y/n’s pregnancy and what not. i was wondering, though, would you all prefer fics/ficlets or headcanons for that? i’m fine with either, but i’m just interested in what format you all would prefer!

extra, exciting, interactive things!

lastly, i loveeeeee connecting my writing to music and visuals, so i’ve made both a pinterest and a spotify playlist!

the spotify playlist includes songs that i write safety net to, as well as songs that remind me of the characters and its namesake [': i'll be keeping it updated, so make sure to check back in for new stuff! [also, i couldn't hide my name on spotify so you get a slight face and name reveal haha. faire is a nickname, though i wish it was my actual name lmao. i'm raj (spelled on there as 'rawj' lmao), i'm faire, i'm everything ✨

the pinterest is so that you all can get an idea of what people, places, and things are modeled after. so far, i've only been saving pictures of josh but i will be filling it in the coming weeks (especially as i update!).

fin

...and that's all she (me) wrote. i'm so excited to get back into everything [: i've been missing this platform, and all of you who are so kind and sweet to me. thank you for not leaving, thank you for supporting me, and thank you for reading. every reply, reblog, and like means the world to me (i do not give a fuck about spam....spam to your heart's content!).

you're all so worthy and loved; if by no one, then by me [: 💜

sneaky little safety net, part five snippet 🤫

you’d been given that. a fresh start of sorts. how could you paint your newly-gained privilege and prosperity as a pain instead of a prime?

your mom would’ve told you to pull your head out of your ass and look at the bright side. “you’d finally get to see something other than that goddamn bus stop. take any way out that you can. god knows i should have.”

love was the way out.

you resided in a comfortable, love-fueled bubble now, something you only believed possible if you'd come out of your mom looking a little different.

though, if that were the case, you wouldn't have been whimpering out, "oh my godddddddddd" as you came against mike's face, your back arching off of the silk below you.

*faire, out 😘

[imagineitdearies]

Hello, I really love your fic Perfect Slaughter and it was wonderful to read the last chapter with Tyrus and Astarion finally defeating Cazador. I wanted to ask if you wrote it in advance? Did you knew from the beginning how Tyrus and Astarion would defeat Cazador?

Thank you for creating such a good long story. Some long fics I follow kind of lose the appeal a bit the longer they go on.

But Perfect Slaughter never did, it remained good from the beginning until now and until the last chapter I think :)

Hey morgain, thanks so much!!

I didn't write all of ch38 too far in advance, but I've known some things for a long time. First of all, right before I posted the first chapter of PS late October, besides ironing down my headcanon for what "The Rite of Perfect Slaughter" actually entailed, I'd been throwing around other more D&D-compliant ways for spawn to take down their masters (especially without help), because of course the goal has always been to give Astarion love and happiness 100 years earlier, not give it to him only to rip it away from him 😅 That was when I noted the "Command Undead" feature d&d characters can gain as a 14th level necromancer! From then on, I knew that was going to come into play.

But in February (right around the time I first posted Cazador's monster stats sheet), I was getting ready to roll some dice and realized it wasn't quite poignant and meaningful as it needed to be--sure, there's the moment that I still planned to cover from the game with Tyrus helping Astarion to not choose ascension in the heat of the moment having power over Cazador, but it just wasn't enough! And then I went on a long, inspiring walk and realized halfway through what needed to happen. That they needed to fail one more time, to win not only over Cazador but over his teachings.

More specifically: I made an outline for the climax in December, wrote out the "I'm yours" scene soon after writing its twin (in ch26) in February, and then have been plugging away at it every now and then ever since.

I'm so glad PS has kept up the appeal! It helps I think that I had a lot of this story outlined and a good amount of structure (with the three parts and such) to avoid meandering or losing track of my own plot lol. It's been good practice for novel writing 😊

[dotieeee]

The Dream That Got Away

Chapter 16

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x You (no Y/N!)

This is a multi-chapter fic — Weekly updates (either Saturday or Sunday) because I found a rhythm of sorts lol

(The entire fic has been outlined, so I will see this to the end, you have my word)

**********************************************************

Link to the Masterlist

Overall Warnings!! Take heed:

Morpheus is DARK – in canon, he changes for the better (or at least, tries to – but we don’t do canon lol, so he goes even more batshit crazy) cue obsession, manipulation, possessiveness, powerplay

18+ ONLY – explicit scenes will be present, some explicit language

DUB-CON and NON-CON scenes

Character death (sort of)

Creator vs Creation drama

And other dark stuff that may be added in the future

This chapter’s warnings:

graphic dub-con ahead - turn back now if this disturbs you :)

touch-starved Morpheus should be a warning of its own

pregnancy angst

reader is a walking ball of angst at this point lol

You have been warned!! Proceed with caution!!!

Link to the previous chapter

Chapter 16: Vanilla Ice Cream and Cheese

The lovely scents of lavender and patchouli pervade the Dream King’s bathroom, and they’re coming from the warm bath that Morwyn had just drawn and prepared for you before she left to prepare your dress. Now completely alone with nothing but your intrusive thoughts, you reach the ornate, full-length mirror, and right in front of it, you shed your sheer nightgown, staring at yourself, stark-naked, your eyes automatically honing on your abdomen. Like what you have been doing absently for the past three weeks, your hand hovers over your belly, rubbing it as if seeking to soothe your inner turmoil.

It’s been three weeks since your dreaming-abilities have been reinstated, which also means the life inside you that the Dream Lord had placed is also of the same age. You wonder how he’s doing inside, what he looks like, how he’s holding up. So far, he hasn’t made himself known yet - not that you expected him to, not for another two, maybe three weeks more. Before you know it, he’ll grow big and snug inside, and then he’ll be out into the world and you’ll be cradling him in your arms, and he’ll be clinging unto you, looking to you for anything and everything: he will seek milk from your bosom, he will crave your touch and your warmth, your kind words, your love.

As if doubling in pain, you fall on the floor in a foetal position, and what starts out as a small, choked sob becomes a wail that bounces off the bathroom tiles and walls. You clutch your chest as you bawl and scream heavily for reasons muddled, even to you - was it because he’s here, and you’ll soon feel his little heartbeat alongside yours? Does being a mother frighten you that much? Will he hate you when he finds out he’s been conceived so unwillingly, not out of love despite the facade you’d have to put up to save him from all the hurt his father had put you through?

There is no comfort from these thoughts, especially not when the Dream Lord himself wraps your bare, trembling form with his own, starry cloak and picks you up from the floor so he could take you in his arms in an unrelenting embrace that to him, means to console - to you, however, it’s just a prison, just another cage he’s placing you in as he tangles your strings of fate further into his. And yet, there is no one else around you but him, and so in the lull of his soft whispers and the warmth of his grip, you eventually tire out and your crying wanes to that of mere sniffling, he takes his robe off you gently and carries you to the bathtub. The water, which has already gone tepid, begins to steam lightly once more, indicating that he had warmed it up for you. He lowers you to the water with so much care, and without shedding his clothes, he follows suit, helping you bathe like he did the morning after your first night with him, except, thankfully, he doesn’t pleasure you - it’s an act of pure intentions it seems, as hard as that may be to believe. Once he’s done, he wordlessly steps away, his clothes already dry, and conjures a robe and a towel and sets it on the edge of the tub, now empty of water. He sits on the edge as well, close to you, while you hug your knees in your modesty (as if he hasn’t seen every inch of you). With delicate grace, he caresses your cheek with a finger, and you avoid looking directly into those blue eyes, fearing what you might find.

“Mera, my dream, will you be alright if I leave you to dry up?” he asks quietly.

You give him the tiniest of nods as you stare blankly at the porcelain at your feet. He lingers for a moment, as if hesitating, but in the end, he gives you a kiss on the top of your head and steps out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Once you step out of the bathroom, you find your Dream Lord hunched over on the study table, inspecting the books you had borrowed from the library. His eyes roam your robed figure for a moment before walking over to you, satisfied with what he sees. He calls for Morwyn, who promptly emerges from behind the room divider, and then gives you a chaste kiss on the lips.

“I will wait here. We will talk,” he says after he pulls away.

Morwyn bows to him and escorts you behind the divider so she could dress you in private. She makes an expert work of your gown - a form-fitting satin gown with long, delicate tulle sleeves gathered in tiers with silk ribbons - and in no time, she excuses herself, leaving you and your Lord alone in the chambers you now share.

So, there you awkwardly stand, awaiting what he has to say. Once you notice that almost-imperceptible sigh, you brace yourself.

“It seems you are unwell, dream of mine,” he notes, stepping closer to you so he could tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ears. “What ails you in this lovely morning?”

You only shake your head in response, as the answer evades you, too.

With the smallest of smiles, his hands find their way to your waist, his thumbs rubbing tender circles on your belly. “Is our child giving you trouble?”

“No, my Lord -”

But he cuts you off with a finger to your lips. “Did I not tell you to call me by my name? Do you not recall freely using my name in the heat of our love-making?” he jests lightly.

His attempts to tease are lost on you, given you’re in no mood for such, but you give him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your ears.

“My apologies, Lord Morpheus,” you amend.

“That’s better,” he says, grinning wider as he strokes your abdomen and takes your cheek in his palms. He has always been touchy, but he’s recently taken to placing his hands on you even more so at every opportunity.

“I should like the mother of my own child to address me with familiarity. And if he is making a fuss, that is perhaps because he takes after you. He will be a force of nature once he comes out, and he will be, as you are to me, the bringer of my joy.”

You close your eyes as he dips his head and kisses your forehead before moving to your lips. It’s a chaste kiss, but his lips pull away, a mere millimetres away from yours as he breathes your air, rendering you lightheaded.

“You will stay in our chambers for the remainder of the day.”

Abruptly, you open your eyes and pull away from him completely, bristling at his command.

“Lord Morpheus, please reconsider, I have a dreamer -”

“Who can wait,” he interrupts one more in a clipped manner, his gaze growing sterner by the second.

You rub your face with your palms in your distress before pleading your case again and telling him the truth.

“Lord Morpheus, I’d be more distraught if I stayed here all day, I’ve got to do something,” you implore him, and with a gesture you know he couldn’t resist, you take his hand in yours and reassure him, “Our little one will be fine, and so will I.”

His stare softens considerably as he contemplates your request, and in acquiescence, he kisses the hand holding his and uses it to pull you close to him. You close your eyes as he captures your lips in a sensual kiss, priming yourself for what you know is about to come.

“Then indulge me, my dream: I must have you now,” your Lord whispers hotly in your ear before his tongue laps up the skin on the crook of your neck, his hands quickly hiking up the hem of your gown.

You really shouldn’t have held his hand.

***

Frantically, you straighten the kinks on your dress as you make your way down the massive marble staircase. You’re quite late to work, and you know it - it doesn’t help that you could barely walk because your boss had just decided to fuck the daylights out of you on his study table this early in the morning. You could still feel his seed damping your underwear which he strictly ordered you not to clean off.

“I’d like my dream to go about her day filled to the brim with her king’s essence,” you remember him growling over your ear as he filled you with his warmth.

So here you are, reaching the end of the staircase and about to take a sharp turn, when you hear the voice of Morwyn in a tone you never heard her use before.

“...you oughta be ashamed of yourselves, tattling about when you two should be at work!” You hear her furious tone, clearly reprimanding someone you couldn’t see. “Don’t you go spreading false rumours, or I’ll tell the King and he’ll have your tongue. The princess is far more virtuous than any of you combined,” she hisses just as you emerge from the corner.

Cowering before her are two of your Lord’s dreams, already looking at their feet in shame - they must’ve heard you approach, for they look up to see you, and you get a glimpse of their pale faces before they bow deeply and excuse themselves from your attendant’s ire and run away from the scene.

“Morwyn, what was that about?” you ask curiously, taking note of her fuming expression.

She releases a huff and responds, “M’lady, they were just gossiping, really, awful stuff. And slacking off.”

You might not be the smartest person in the world, but you know enough to conclude the topic of the rumour. “It’s about me, isn’t it?”

“Well, uh…” Morwyn hesitates, but your exasperated smile encourages her to go on. “Yes, m’lady. I heard them talking about how they think you, uhm…”

“They think that I…?”

“Slept with the king to get ahead, m’lady,” she murmurs, shuffling her feet awkwardly.

You place a hand on her shoulder, touched that she had defended your honour the way she did.

“You have a good heart, Morwyn, and thank you for telling me,” you praise. “And as for the rumour, I’m quite used to it, actually. They’ve been at it even before the Dream King’s century-long departure,” you add with a shrug.

Morwyn looks up at you with a despondent expression, clearly still upset on your behalf. “But, if they’re talking about you that way, we oughta tell the King so he could do something about it…”

“No,” you say with a firm tone and shake of your head, your expression turning serious. “He will not be kind to them if he finds out.” Unwillingly, in your mind, you see Nuros’ face, a long-forgotten dream whom you’ve never seen again after the Dream Lord’s supposed ‘talk’ with her.

“He can be cruel, especially about anything that concerns me, and he will be unless he does not find out.” 

“I understand, m’lady,” she says with a bow, before adding determinedly, “But if I ever hear them again, I’m making no promises.”

You chuckle lightly at her remark while she opens her mouth and closes it again, as if she wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words.

“You know, you can tell me anything, right?”

She gives a small nod, before starting, “You’re the only one who’s ever treated me nicely, m’lady. The other dreams look down on me because even though the Dream Lord created me, I was never given dream-forming abilities.” She pauses, wringing her hands in front of her. “So thank you for treating me like…like I’m not different.”

Your heart clenches at her revelation, so to comfort her, you clasp both her hands in yours. “But you aren’t different, Morwyn. We all have a function to fulfil. And so far, you’ve been fulfilling them beyond expectations. Pay the rumours no mind and they’ll get tired eventually.

“Now if you get pushed, you can always tell them to fuck off. Come to me anytime you need anyone to talk to,” ” you add with a wink, knowing very well how it feels to have no one on your side.

“Thank you, m’lady. You have my loyalty, as always.” 

Bowing deeply once more, she excuses herself, leaving you feeling like you just gained another treasured friend.

Maybe an eternity here isn’t so bad with them around.

***

The throne room basks in the magnificent glow of the sunlight streaming through thousands of stained window panels that mirror the feelings of its sovereign. The King in question, currently at his full height at the foot of the winding stairs, his eyes focusing on nothing but the vibrant display of the glass behind his throne - his perfect dream and perfect nightmare, showcased side-by-side, their colour palettes contrasting and complementing each other.

The King of Dreams has many things occupying his mind, his little dream and the little one inside her being two of them. You, probably on your way to the sea of dreams to grace a lucky dreamer with your inspiring presence - the mother of his child, both of them so precious and so fragile, braving the wonders and the horrors of the human collective unconscious. And if he was being honest with himself, you being out there, exposed and vulnerable to humanity’s depravity, deeply unsettles him.

The tall, arched double doors to his throne room burst open, and the panels rapidly transform to only the likeness of the nightmare that he had just summoned. The Dream Lord turns to his feet to face him as he strides forward and halts a few feet away from the foot of the stairs.

“You called, my Lord?” the nightmare drawls lazily, placing his hands in his pocket.

“Corinthian,” Morpheus acknowledges his presence with a slight tilt of his head, using his sand to lock the doors and prevent any wayward being from eavesdropping. “Watch over the princess in the sea of dreams. Ensure that no harm befall her and my son.”

The Corinthian pauses momentarily as he raises an eyebrow. “So, now I'm supposed to babysit her, and the new nightmare?” he asks slowly as if trying to process the words of his master’s command.

“Sumnio will do fine on his own,” Dream replies with a dismissive tone. “The princess is infinitely more important.”

“She's not gonna like this,” the Corinthian comments under his breath. Morpheus hears it, of course, but he chooses to ignore it. Scratching his head with a lone finger, he adds, a bit louder this time, “And with all due respect, my Lord, I think she is more than capable of handling herself.”

It’s the King’s turn to raise his eyebrow; of course, he knows just how capable he had made you to be, but you also had this incredible proclivity to attract trouble, given your not-so-recent brush with a certain mortal man. He chooses to hide this observation, as he always does - he just clasps his hands in front of him, keeping his blank mask. 

“My concern is simply of her well-being and that of our child, whom she bears. She will come to terms with it.”

Releasing a defeated sigh, the Corinthian relents. No point arguing with him, especially about you.

“Have it your way, your ma-jes-ty.” He retreats to exit the same way he came in.

It doesn’t escape Morpheus the way his nightmare addressed him tauntingly. He ignores that, too, his stare boring a hole in the back of his creation’s head. As an afterthought, he chooses to give him a second order.

“Corinthian,” he calls, his booming voice echoing in the throne room.

His nightmare turns sideways with a huff. “Yes? My Lord?”

“Keep her away from him,” he says simply, not bothering to elaborate.

The nightmare just dips his head, indicating that he recognized his master’s meaning.

“Of course, your Majesty.”

The doors close behind him with a resounding boom as he left, and Morpheus had expected his worries to go away with him.

Instead, he plops down on his throne with a sigh, his concern for you growing more than ever.

***

The large operating room provides quite the spectacle: the fabled surgeon, elbows-deep in the guts of a patient under anaesthesia and the crowd of medical students keenly observing the master at work - but your eyes are glued to the face of seven-year-old Ida Fisher in her thirty-five-year-old body, concentrating hard on the patient whose life hangs in the balance. The entire room awaits with bated breath, and the only noise that permeates is the quiet beeping of the life monitor. The dream you had formed from the beginning had blossomed into a fully-realised fantasy of little Ida’s future career, so you grin under your medical mask and pat yourself on the back for a job well done.

Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you slowly back away until you reach the door and promptly exit. Swinging the door open with care, you see other students crowding the observation glass, all craning their necks to get a glimpse of Ida’s medical expertise. As soon as the door closes, however, you hear a familiar voice call you over the dream-hospital’s PA system.

“Calling the princess to ICU, calling the princess to ICU.”

You shake your head in mild amusement as you make your way to the Intensive Care ward, passing through the dream-nurses and dream-patients Ida’s mind has conjured. You push the double doors, which swing shut behind you, to find your favourite nightmare, clad in the same blue scrubs as yours, down to the tinted medical goggles and the rubber clogs doctors seem to fancy so much.

Pulling your medical mask back down, you greet him with a smirk. “If this was the last view I’d get under the knife, I don’t think I’d want to wake up.”

“You wish,” The Corinthian bites back with a grin matching yours, adjusting his medical gloves as you both pace the sterile hall.

“So, to what do I owe this visit?” you ask, waving your hand to instantly get rid of your hospital gear. 

He clicks his tongue at the change, saying in mock disappointment, “I liked you better with the scrubs on.”

You roll your eyes at him and jest, “You know, some of us have actual work to do?”

He lets out a chuckle as he steals a clipboard from an unwitting dream-nurse, flipping over the chart before chucking it behind him. “You're not going to like this bit.”

“No, I already don't. What is it?”

He stops before a room labelled ‘Supply Room,’ and you follow him wordlessly inside, locking the door for good measure.

“Guess who his royal prickness assigned to be your bodyguard,” he states, leaning on a cabinet filled with IV bags.

“The fuck?” you blurt out, waiting for him to take it back, only for him to give you a smug look. “Oh, bloody hell. Why did I not see this coming? What about Sumnio?”

“Says he'll do fine without me,” your friend quips as he lights up a cigarette, not caring if he triggers the smoke alarm.

You run your hands through your hair in slight aggravation. You don’t actually mind him hanging around with you while you work - what you take offence to is the fact that your Dream Lord thinks you still need to be watched over like you’re some dainty little fairy. Like you had not proven time and again your ability to weasel your way out of sticky situations.

“I'm not weak and I don't need protection,” you protest to him.

He just nods as he takes a deep drag out of his cigarette, clearly as unamused as you are. “Yep, told him that.”

“I don't like this.”

“Told him that, too.”

You bite the insides of your cheeks, annoyed at this development. A few seconds of silence pass between you and your friend as you process your ‘workplace dissatisfaction’ together. 

“So, are you going to follow me around in the dreams, now?” you ask tentatively.

“Fuck, no. I got better things to do,” he responds coolly. “Just don’t get yourself in trouble,” he adds as an afterthought while he extinguishes the flame of his half-finished cigarette on the shelf and flicks it away.

“And…if he asks?”

“Tch. I’ll think of something. Anyway,” your friend straightens his scrubs, preparing to be on his way. “I’ve got to run.”

“Off to your nightmare boyfriend?” you ask, batting your eyelashes in mock innocence.

He lets out a dry, clipped laugh and pulls a scalpel out of his scrub pocket, brandishing it at you. “Keep at it and I might just use this on you.”

“Where are you going, dressed like that, anyway?” you question him curiously.

“Another hospital dream, I guess. Not much blood here, I miss it.”

He motions farewell with a two-finger salute, his usual fashion, and you call out ‘say ‘hi’ to your dear little nightmare for me’ as he vanishes, managing an enthusiastic middle finger at you just as he moves on to another dreamer.

You’re done with Ida Fisher, so you follow suit, letting yourself get sucked into the ocean of dreams before it throws you into the mind of another sleeping human.

***

Two more eventful weeks pass for you - two tumultuous weeks of the infamous morning sickness, sudden mood changes, and weird food cravings (currently, you’ve been shovelling down soggy, sugar-frosted corn flakes and eating lemon curd by the spoonful), and surprisingly, your Dream King has been nothing but sympathetic, even indulging you and accompanying you when you wake up in the middle of the night to raid the kitchens for something to munch on. 

He was there, this morning, holding your hair back as you retched what remained of last night’s kitchen raid, cooing words of comfort. After that nasty bout of hurling until your stomach cramped, he had attempted to bring up the topic of you staying in his chambers for the rest of the day, but you weren’t in the mood for arguing - instead, you shot him a reproachful look, and he actually ended up relenting, much to your astonishment.

But, all this came with a price: he has been more handsy with you as of late, and he’s gotten rougher, more possessive in bed, sometimes even summoning you in the middle of work, only for you to end up staying in his room for the remainder of the day because you’re too fucked out to get up and walk. 

Despite these rather unsavoury changes to your routine, one thing you’d never let him touch is your work. Forming dreams was and is still your only outlet, and whenever you’re out there, inspiring a soul, you’d forget everything, including yourself - after all, dreams are all about them, and reading about their eventual success in their books gives you such a rush like no other.

You imagine it’s already past noon in the Dreaming, it’s hard to tell at times, but you could tell by the number of dreamers you had visited. You had just finished your seventh for the day, just lazily nibbling on a cheese pretzel as you wait for Ezekiel Gantz’s alarm to ring so he could get to work and absolutely kill it in his client presentation.

Before you, however, materialises a small piece of stationary with sprawling cursive writing - it isn’t your first time receiving the note in the same manner, so you let it fall on your lap. You could read its contents clear as day without even picking it up:

My dream,

Come see me in the library

With a sigh you get up from the office chair you’re lounging on and exit Ezekiel’s dreams, confident he’ll ace his meeting later with the big bosses.

Time to meet your own big boss.

***

You spend a good five, maybe ten minutes navigating the maze that is your Lord’s library, just looking for him among the towering shelves. You reach what is one of the most secluded areas, huffing at the effort. Finding no sign of him, you pick up a book from one of the shelves instead before you head back to the dreams. Just as you’re about to flip the cover open, you spot a dark shadow emerging from among the shelves out of the corner of your eye. Perhaps he took pity on you scrambling around and decided to show himself instead.

“My dream,” he half-whispers in that deep, velvety voice: a sign that you wouldn’t like what’s coming to you next.

“You sent for me, my Lord? May I ask what for?” you reply meekly, backing away as he approaches until your backside hits a desk.

You know what for, the Voice snidely comments.

Deciding to ignore that bit, you focus solely on the warm body pressing against yours and the lips now peppering your neck with wet kisses and nipping at your earlobe. Urgently, his mouth finds yours and makes both your tongues dance in a game of dominance he always wins. Pulling away, he whispers over your lips:

“I do not need a reason to see my beloved, the mother of my son, the only one from whom I seek pleasures of the flesh…”

He draws out the final phrase slowly as his hands bunch the hem of your dress, but your hand deters his, countering, “Lord Morpheus, Lucienne -”

“Is not your concern. I have closed off this part of the library,” he cuts you off, dragging his nose along your jawline and sucking on your pulse point. You gasp involuntarily at the warmth of his tongue on your skin, sending shivers all over your body - one thing you’ve discovered is that being with a child made you even more sensitive - and when he squeezes both of your breasts through your dress, the sensation actually sends jolts of electricity to your abdomen and heat pooling between your thighs. Your Lord knows this, for you feel him smirk against your collarbone before he bites down on it. Pulling the neckline of your dress, he exposes your breasts, tender in your pregnancy, and his mouth is on your nipple at once, licking and sucking and biting each of them and eliciting soft sighs and gasps from you.

“I need to be inside you, dream of mine.”

He plants one final peck on your lips before he turns your body, pushing you down on the desk, your breasts pressed against the cold, lacquered wood. He then lifts your dress to reveal his prize: your ass, and the lacy underwear hiding it from his view, an obstacle that he just pulls down to reveal your damp entrance.

You had nothing to hold on to but the edges of the table, so when you hear his zipper being pulled down, you brace yourself closing your eyes and biting your lips, whimpering as his hard cock parts your folds, taking your wetness, before plunging it in its entirety. He groans in pleasure as he begins sliding in and out of you, and at that moment you couldn’t help but let out the loud moans you intended to stifle. Even after the countless times he has bedded you, he still stretches you out to the point of mild discomfort, and he knows it all too well, for he likes brushing repeatedly against your sweet spot before bottoming out, only to hit it again as he withdraws his length. He finds a rhythm that always made you see white spots in your vision, all while holding you down firmly on the table with his hands, rendering you unable to meet his hips - you’re helpless, moaning and mewling wantonly, and at your Lord’s mercy, but it’s so, so good, and it’s in these moments where you lose all thoughts except him and his cock ramming into you until he takes you to oblivion. 

“Lord Morpheus…fuck…”

Spurred by the way you moaned his name and the foul language that followed it, he brings his body close to yours - even with both your clothes in the way, his warmth invades your senses - he whispers heatedly in your ear:

“Language, my dream. I should punish you for that.”

He is always true to his words, for the pace that follows is one that makes your knees buckle, and if it weren’t for him gripping your waist in support you could’ve fallen to the floor.

“I should tie you up to my bed and lock my chambers, just so you could be ready for me to take whenever I please…”

Your response is nothing but a strangled noise escaping your throat. He continues rutting into you, and you start clenching his cock more erratically - you’re so close, so close…

“It will give me so much pleasure to take you even as you grow round with child…”

One particular rough thrust brings tears to your eyes - are you crying due to pleasure or pain? - not that you cared at this point, because you have only one focus - with a sharp cry, you come hard, and the cry is immediately followed by a series of teary, throaty moans and uncontrollable trembling brought about by your master’s insistence at finding his own release. With your orgasm being drawn out in long, torturing seconds, you could feel him losing his pace, until, finally, he groans loudly in your ear, and your womb is filled to the brim with his scorching hot seed. He comes so hard, thrusts so deeply, that the table beneath you creaks, and when he finally pumps the last of his cum inside you, his thrusts soften and slow down while your walls clench him feebly until he eventually stills within you.

You try to catch your breath, and to give you some air, his body pulls away from yours, all while carefully staying inside you. He had once confessed, after one of your many passionate nights, that he likes staying inside you for as long as he could, wanting, craving for as much contact with you as he can. In your fucked out state, you barely note how his hands travel all over your body with so much gentleness, as he often does after you both finish. Perhaps it’s an attempt to soothe you after he had taken you so mercilessly.

When he pulls out from you at last, he places your underwear back and rights your gown, while you manage to prop yourself up with your elbows and shakily get on your feet. You could feel a dull sensation between your thighs, one you just might not ever get used to, but his arms wrap around your waist to support you. He kisses your lips softly, and then your forehead, not caring about the sweat beading on your skin. When he’s done, he just stays in place, his hand finding its way to the back of your head and bringing it close to his heart, while your arms, finding nothing better to do, snake around his back.

“Lord Morpheus,” you call to him in a whisper.

Humming against your hair, he responds, “Yes, my little dream?”

“I’m hungry.”

Your Dream Lord lets out a light-hearted chuckle - a rarity for him - and he pulls away so he could look into your face, his own displaying a small smile.

“What do my dream and my little one crave?”

“Mmm…vanilla ice cream,” you declare, adding, “And cheese. Vanilla ice cream with cheese mixed in.”

***

Even after a few more weeks come by, you continually crave the same thing over and over: creamy vanilla ice cream with tiny bits of mild cheddar mixed in it. There are other food combinations, of course, but in between increasingly volatile emotions and longer bouts of throwing up every goddamn morning, it’s one of the only things you could hold down.

“Want some?” you ask your nightmare friend sitting across you, holding out the large bowl of ice cream to him.

“Nah, I don’t care much for pregnant-women food,” the Corinthian responds with his nose turned up, raising his cup of coffee. “I’ll stick to this, thanks.”

You’re back in the garden, taking advantage of one of your rare breaks from work. You had asked him many times to bring Sumnio so you could finally meet the nightmare he had a crush on (even if he’d rather be unmade than ever admit it). But he never does, much to your dismay. Maybe one of these days, you could find the human they’re frequenting and walk in on them, preferably making out, but given how busy you are with your current dreamers, you don’t see that happening soon.

“Fine, I’ll try it,” he says grudgingly, scooping a teaspoonful of ice cream from your bowl and sceptically tasting it. “Not bad,” he comments with a tilt of his head and gives it another go.

“Lady Mera!”

You whip your head in the direction of the voice that had just called you now. From afar, you see Morwyn running to your table, with a very familiar face traipsing behind her, almost floating, playing with tiny, colourful fish circling her head in midair.

Lady Delirium has found herself in her older brother’s realm, it seems.

And she spots you from the distance. You raise a hand in a tentative wave, and she comes running to you, reaching you even before Morwyn does.

“Meraaaaa!!!” she squeals in delight and lunges at you with a huge hug. “Oh, he sounds like he’s growing happily,” she comments with a knowing glance. You smile, not knowing what to make of it.

Morwyn catches up at last, with her hands on her knees and panting heavily, motioning to Lady Del and breathlessly mentioning the word ‘visitor.’ You hand her a glass of water which she gratefully accepts.

You turn to Lady Delirium, who you spot greeting the Corinthian and sampling your momentarily forgotten, rapidly melting ice cream bowl.

“Mera, you know what’s a great ice cream flavour? Telephone pole!” she exclaims, brandishing the teaspoon dripping with melting ice cream, spraying some of it on the Corinthian’s sunglasses.

“That’d be a bit chewy, I imagine,” you say thoughtfully, offering her a seat at the table and motioning to the tray of sweets for her to sample. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch your friend wiping his glasses with a table napkin. As Morwyn excuses herself, the youngest Endless takes a cinnamon roll out of the tray and takes a large bite.

“Mmm! I know this,” she comments, her eyes lighting up maniacally as she tends to do when an idea crosses her mind. “I remember why I came here. I find it difficult to remember stuff these days, but I think I remember that thing pretty clearly.”

Right across from you, your friend scratches his head, muttering to himself, “Interesting. Very gripping.”

As if she didn’t hear him, she sways in her seat, continuing, “Remember what I said about friends helping each other? And about friends helping each other find what they lost?”

You set down your now-empty bowl, curiosity now piqued. “Yes, my lady. What of it?” 

“You’re my friend, and I found what you lost, so you know…yey!”

“What I ‘lost?’”

“I’m getting outta here,” your friend leaps to his feet, leaving his cup of coffee half-finished. Looking up at him, you read the two words on his lips quite clearly: ‘bad idea.’

“Bye, Cori!” Lady Del waves enthusiastically at his retreating form, before her eyes stare into yours - uncanny, the way her mismatched eyes seem to perceive things about you you aren’t even familiar with.

“If we go to the dreams now, we can -”

“She is not going anywhere, little sister.”

As soon as your Dream Lord reaches your full view, you get up abruptly, intending to say a polite ‘hello,’ but you forgo the thought almost immediately when you see his expression. He’s scowling heavily, his posture rigid, directing his ire at his sibling, the only company you have left, who’s smiling rather innocently and pointedly ignoring her brother’s harsh stare. “Delirium, this is the second time you’ve come to my realm unannounced.”

“But I said I was coming. It wasn’t that nice of you, ignoring my calls like that,” she comments, rubbing the back of her neck while her hair transforms into a dull, brown bob.

“My apologies, sister. I was busy with Dreaming matters. I shall be with you momentarily.”

And then, his gaze turns to you, his eyes searching, accusing, even.

But you haven’t done anything. So, you meet his eyes with resolve, wondering how on earth you’ve gotten on his bad side.

“Come with me,” he says.

It’s a simple command, but a foreboding one, especially as his sand circles the both of you and reveals his chambers once it clears. Growing more confused with his behaviour, you open your mouth to question him, but he beats you to it:

“I hereby forbid you to speak to Delirium and set foot in the sea of dreams.”

****************************** Link to the next chapter

Author notes on the Chapter:

Ya’ll really thought he’d have no qualms with her getting back to work? LOL this is Dark!Morpheus we talkin bout :P if he could, he would control Mera’s schedule right down to the minute :P he’ll hold on to whatever aspect of Mera’s life he could control

Also, I think we have four or five??? more chapters to this story, and it's already close to 100k words (96k)!! Funny how plot points keep adding up and growing :D

final note: forgive the *ehem CHEESY title xD

******************************

Author's notes in general:

Thank you, THANK YOU for reading!!

Please engage, comment and reblog!! I love feedback from you guys :) This is my first ever fic, so kindness is truly appreciated!

Thank you to my queen @queenshelby @endlessdreamqueen3 for encouraging me to pen this, as well as to my fellow Dark!Morpheus writers whose work I have thoroughly enjoyed and keep rereading :)

Post date: 2/04/23

Edit date: 2/04/23

Taglist: Just lemme know please if you want to be added, too!

Tagging the following:

@wt-fxck

@sandman-33

@reallystressedhoneybee

@akiraquote

@safe-teycar

@ponyboys-sunsets

@izzicle

@spygrrl99

@intothesoul

@thecrazytealady

@tastyinspection8860

@kittenssss-blog

@trinittyy

@mxacegrey

@saraicus

@blu3what

@justporple

@emy635

@chantzmar

@dawnissunnysideup

@esmeralda-tupi

@ggxsan

[moonshine-nightlight]

Being sick for the past week meant that I had nothing better to do today than lay in bed and refresh tumblr waiting for chapter 34, and seeing it at the very top of my dash was the highlight of my day! The wait was definitely worth it, my health for the duration notwithstanding lol

SPOILER WARNING FOR PAST CHAPTERS IDK HOW TO PUT READ MORES IN ASKS I'M SO SORRY

You made the right call taking the extra time to edit this doozy of a chapter—figuring out how to share Dale's exposition in a way that made sense and fit into the events of the story while maintaining tonal consistency must have been quite the process, between the restrictions of Sana's POV, regency genre conventions, and the story's (heh) natural climax being Dale's identity "reveal" followed by the wedding. I'm very curious if you currently have any ideas for how you're going to tackle this exposition in the novelization, or if you're inclined to handle it differently at all!

@weasellyferret

i hope you're feeling better! i'm so glad you enjoyed the new chapter!

i hav no idea if u can even put a read more in an ask anymore and i can't hide it now but my answer will be under the read more

thanks! i think some people really underestimate how helpful even self editing is to make things coherent, especially for a long chapter like this one that covered so much but also was literally just two ppl talking to each other (ppl lov to say they'll take any update, but lik, thats cuz they dont knooow lol and i dont just want it to b passable, i want it to b good).

with lore/backstory like this i also have to make sure it makes sense to readers who havent read any of it before nor know any of the even more info that I know because there's even more worldbuilding and dale backstory that wont end up in the story.

i'm glad u think i pulled it off to any degree because i was still pretty nervous when i was posting it that it did make sense, fit in the world, was followable, interesting but not just exposition monologue, etc

yeah, chapter 30 where they have the reveal convo is the primary climax of the story and that's also 'just talking' in a sense so its interesting to write this story in that sense lol

while i had the broad outline of the world and dale's backstory from the beginning (i did a little exercise where i sketched out a sort of Dale POV of chapter 6 to get into his mindset which was super helpful) as I wrote the story a lot more of that info became fully fleshed out/defined. so for the novelization, i'll probably try to work more of the info in earlier or have better allusions to it, which will make some of the info in chapter 34 more of a quick confirmation than the exposition itself

ie i might add a chapter with more detail on Sana researching with Dale's books that Bilmont smuggles and plant suspicions of what went wrong with the summoning; i might adjust the chapter after the attack to be more of a convo about the assassination that the grandparents interrupt where Sana can suspect more of Dale's past etc and generally spread out what i can so its more foreshadowed/natural - things like that

other aspects sort of have to be told to Sana because its POV limited, evn when it is updated to 3rd POV. i'll probably do a straight POV swap and minor edit ; then take a look at it as a whole, reassess things on my own, run those ideas by some writer friends/betas and get their thoughts, and finally my editors (who i used for DSM) are also very good with making sure worldbuilding fits in right and so their advice will be helpful - especially since they will only get the draft i giv them without knowing how it was and what changed etc

once chapter 35 is out (which i'm still writing because smut is a challenge to right and i write it more slowly than other things) i'll start slowly editing and passing along to betas the rest of the story (i've got thru chap 11 done and betas who only read those and who are chomping at the bit - u think u've had a long wait? lol) but it will be spring by the time i do any big edits/revisions and then i'll giv it to the editors, who i already lik, semi-lined up for that time period and idk how long they will take because its a long book and then i'll need to process their edits too so it'll be a lengthy process, but i hope everyone knows it will 100% b a novel and i hope they enjoy it!

now back to stabbing away at the smut writing ;)

[dejwrld]

How did you get started with novel planning? I have a novel myself that I wrote in high school and I really want to get back to it and be serious.

i have had many novel ideas that i have put on the back burner because it just didn’t feel like the one tbh. but i do think i start with my novel planning by creating pinterest boards first and foremost to just get the aesthetic printed in my brain. this is how i organize my pinterest boards for my wips btw!

i also follow a lot of indie writers on tik tok and recently have made two writer friends who highkey have been disciplining me on writing and such (novel wise lol). but the real reason on how i managed to actually start novel planning for this is because of this person right here!

her videos have been so fucking amazing and helpful with planning. on her website, she offers these google doc planning sheets that is under $10 (i believe) that include a chapter outline document, character profile document, and a three act story structure planning document also…it’s so amazing.

but sometimes you can just wing your novel, just start writing what you have in mind now and just go back to novel planning. i literally have a page of my first chapter typed and i haven’t even finished the chapter outlines of my novel

[rockyroadkylers]

2023 Writing Roundup

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf tagged me to do this, and @inexplicablymine actually did, too, a while back, so here we go!

i haven't written much this year- well, no, okay, that's a lie, in terms of word count i've written quite a lot, but in terms of how many fics i've posted, i don't have that many to share, here. but i'm pretty dang proud of what i do have!

May

I Will Soften Every Edge (I'll Do Better) - MCU, 6.6k, T

Tony Stark is unexpectedly thrust into parenthood when he discovers that Spider-Man is not only fourteen years old, but also his son. He's unsure how to proceed from there, until the Vulture destroys a ferry full of people and Tony learns something about his son that makes him reevaluate his own behavior. Gift for hold_our_destiny from my Fic Raffle on Tumblr.

October

It's Nice to Have a Friend - RWRB, 59k, 11 chapters, T

Two boys meet on a beach, build a sand castle, write letters, and fall in love.

November

After Everything, I Must Confess I Need You - RWRB, 5.8k, T

“Fuck,” he gasps, tears springing to his eyes and mixing with the rainwater on his face. He’s not sure if the tears are from the asphalt biting into his palms, or if it’s a release of the emotions he’s been trying to shove down deep ever since he woke up to an empty top bunk at the lake house. Wait. Asphalt. Over the pounding rain, Alex hears the shrill sound of a horn honking, and looks up just in time to be blinded by a pair of headlights coming straight at him. OR: When Alex dares Henry to tell him to leave, Henry actually does. Neither of them could have predicted what happens next.

Upcoming in 2024:

i picked the petals, he loves me not

canon divergence starting from the day Alex and Henry met in Rio, following an AU where Alex develops Hanahaki Disease from Henry asking Shaan to get rid of him.

currently untitled sequel to It's Nice to Have a Friend

Picking up where chapter ten left off (Alex and Henry finally getting together), the sequel will follow the boys as they navigate their new relationship through the ups and downs of long distance, therapy, school, and Ellen's 2016 presidential campaign.

This Love is Worth the Fight

a surprisingly highly-requested sequel to After Everything, I Must Confess I Need You. It will likely be another longfic, due to the amount of ideas I've made notes of, but I don't have anything concrete, yet.

1/124th of a second (credit to Beas for the genius title)

Actor!Henry, Photographer!Alex AU. Sort of an enemies to lovers premise. I won't actually be able to write this one until Mary and George comes out, I don't think, because the premise of it is Alex taking a job as the photographer taking pictures of Henry to promote his role as George Villiers in Mary and George, and he watches the show to prepare for the job, so I might need to be able to actually reference some of the scenes in order to write about Alex watching the show, lol. Other than that, this fic is entirely outlined, so it should be easy to write... once I have access to clips of the show for reference, pfft.

this has been fun to do! so much of the writing i've done this year has taken place over the last four months, that sometimes i forget i did any writing before the month of September 😂 but i did! and it's good writing, too, as hard as that is for me to remember, sometimes.

tagging: @matherines, @firenati0n, @affectionatelyrs, @anincompletelist, @littlemisskittentoes, @read-and-write-, @happiness-of-the-pursuit, @songliili, @wordsofhoneydew

[mortalfaerie]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡

Chapter Three: Into The Storm

Cregan Stark x (Strong)Velaryon! OC

tw: illness, questionable pseudo-medieval medical stuff lol

Atop Seasmoke, the world a passing stage below them, Celaena passed an hour before the cloud encroached on them, growing darker and darker. To avoid the cover, they dipped lower and glided over holdings, no doubt visible by the time they passed the great castle of the Eyrie.

Into the north, as the sun drew lower over the horizon, the clouds came lower as though chasing the dragon and her rider. In a sense of duty mixed with stubbornness, Celaena refused to land prematurely. With reckless determination, they followed the kings road north as the terrain became greyer and snowy even in the early spring. Within what she estimated must be an hour of her destination as the sun fully disappeared, the skies opened up and poured torrentially on them.

Seasmoke grew restless as the path became unclear, swishing his tail and roaring in discontent. She urged him in High Valyrian to calm, to obey, to hold on just until they made it. The water soaked even through her dense riding clothes, and she felt cold - and then numb, as they pushed further.

Finally, the outline of great keep came into view, with the circular towers and outwalls that she had seen in illustrations of Winterfell. They circled the keep in preparation to land, as soldiers on the ramparts yelled and pointed, then poured into the inner moat to await orders from their lord and commander.

When Seasmoke landed, shaking the earth and roaring to all his presence, Celaena had begun to feel weak and tired. Still, she persevered and held herself tall in the saddle as the Lord of Winterfell, Cregan Stark, exited to stand before her.

In some distant part of her mind, Celaena considered that it takes a brave man indeed to stand alone before a fully grown dragon. However, she had business to carry out on behalf of the one true queen.

The rain still poured down with a vengeance as she called out, “Lord Cregan Stark,” and paused to draw in a deep breath, as she felt more weary than she expected. “I am Princess Celaena Velaryon, second-born of Rhaenyra, first of her name - Queen,” she drew in another breath, “Of the Andals and the Rhoynar, and of the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector - of - the - Realm.” she ground out with great effort.

Cregan Stark, despite the downpour, removed his cap and bowed his head. “Hail, Queen Rhaenyra.”

Taking in another fortifying breath, Celaena continued. “I come as an emissary of the Queen,” her vision began to swim and she fought to stay focused. “With a message to deliver.”

Beneath her, Seasmoke moved uneasily and swished his tail in discontent. The men on the ramparts knocked their bows, but Cregan Stark raised a hand to stop them. Celaena muttered for Seasmoke to calm down, but he snapped his jaw in defiance.

“Your grace,” the Warden of the North called through the rain. “Are you well?”

Celaena blinked to clear her vision as Seasmoke strained his neck to see her and snapped again in discontent. “No, my lord,” she began, and Seasmoke slapped the snowy ground with his tail. “I am not,” she said, just as her vision began to blur again and the light of the torches beyond seemed to move sideways. She was aware of Seasmoke’s roar of distress, the yelling of the men beyond, and could feel the sting where her waist chains dug into her side to prevent her from fully falling from the saddle.

“Your grace!” Cregan yelled, and approached cautiously. Seasmoke swished his tail in agitation and bared his long, sharp teeth, but did not advance on the young lord. With hands raised, he approached, speaking lowly to the dragon.

“I mean her no harm. No harm,” he repeated, until he reached the beast’s side. With an agitated thump and an exhale of steam, Seasmoke hunkered down and closer to the ground, where the Lord of Winterfell could reach the princess, dangling from the chains.

He cursed as he grasped her, feeling that she was cold and soaked, her lips beginning to tinge purple. But, her pulse was strong and she was breathing without effort, and he set to work unlatching the chains. Seasmoke continued to grow agitated but permitted him to take her, when finally she was free of the chains and fell into his arms. He clutched the princess to his chest and slung his fur cloak over her body, as he carried her into the keep and called loudly to wake the maester.

The warmest room in Winterfell was the lord’s own chamber. The castle had ingeniously been built over a hot spring, with the greatest chamber feeling the best of the effects. It was here that Cregan carried his princess’s cold frame, before depositing her on the rug before the fire and wrapping her in his cloak. Wasting no time, he went and pulled the furs from his own bed and covered her more, rubbing her hands in his own to bring the blood back. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him strangely. “How did…” she rasped, but then shook her head as though she had thought better of it.

“Don’t fret, your grace,” he urged, and yelled to the men who had followed him in to bring a tub and hot water, and where on earth was the maester?

The old man finally came, jogging as best he could, carrying herbs and bottles clutched to his chest.

“How long has she been in the cold?” He asked. Cregan shook his head. “I don’t know - I wasn’t even aware she was travelling to Winterfell. She may have come directly from Dragonstone.”

The maester made the sign of the Seven before himself and began separating herbs in various amounts into a bowl, and crushed them with a tool. “She’ll need to be rid of the wet clothing, my lord.”

Cregan grit his teeth. He had seen men sick nearly to death from exposure and frostbite, and he knew what must be done, but he hesitated to insult the princess’s modesty infront of all these assembled soldiers.

“Out!” he yelled to them. “And summon Jeyne - and the maids!”

The servants who had been sent for arrived back with a great wood tub and pails and pails of water that steamed in their hands, dumping them into the tub. The maester commandeered a pail and used it to add to his potion, stirring it dissolve.

“Help me to get this in her mouth, my lord,” he asked, and Cregan tilted the princess’s pale face back so the draught could be poured down her throat. She sputtered and started, but swallowed the mixture, and groaned aloud to the pair.

The maester looked encouraged, however. “That will help. It is a warming tonic, and it will help to warm her body from the inside. Still, we need to get her out of her cold clothing and into the hot bath.”

Cregan nodded but insisted, “I will have the Septa do it. She is a princess, and unwed. I will not insult her honor by seeing her undressed, nor having any of my men see her as such either.”

The maester nodded. “Very well, but bring her to the fire.”

Cregan scooped her again and sat with her against his chest, facing the hearth. She squirmed in his grasp but didn’t wake again, and he chewed the inside of his cheek in consternation until the Jeyne, the wizened old crone and cook at Winterfell came scurrying into the room with several chambermaids on her heels.

“Yes, m’lord?” she asked, waiting for his word.

“This is Princess Celaena, daughter of your new Queen, Rhaenyra.” he said, turning to her. “She is very ill from the cold and must be undressed and bathed in the hot water to bring her body back around.”

He regarded the plump and matronly woman who had helped care for him and his late brother during their childhood illnesses, and said pointedly, “You must care for her with the greatest respect for her station and honor. Let no man but the maester see her unclothed, and only to treat her. Do you understand me?”

“Of course, my lord.” She insisted, and the maids nodded. He waved her over and shifted the princess into her waiting arms, then stood.

“Bathe her, care for her. I will have some of my mother’s old clothing sent for so you can dress her after. You may put her to bed here, it is the warmest.” He said, looking about the room. “I will sleep elsewhere tonight. Have a woman watch over her, and send for me as soon as she is awake and coherent.”

A chorus of agreement went up from the group, and he made his exit, closing the door firmly behind him. Spotting two of his most trusted men, he ordered them to stand watch at the door. As he went towards the kitchens in search of a mug of heated ale, another soldier approached him.

“My lord, the princess was carrying this missive when she collapsed,” he said and handed the offered scroll to his lord. Cregan nodded gruffly to the man in thanks.

Once he had sought the stiff drink, he found his way to the library and sat in a secluded corner to unfurl the parchment.

Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell, In the late hours of the previous day, my father, King Viserys, passed into the arms of Seven. It was his will, and stipulated by the oath sworn by all the lords paramount of the realm, that I succeed him to the Iron Throne as his chosen heir. However, a faction has formed and installed my brother, Aegon, as a false king in my stead. I now call upon those who swore an oath to my father to honor it, and join me in retaking the throne and realm from this treasonous few. I have sent to you as an emissary, my daughter Celaena. She is intelligent and astute, and I have endowed her with the power to grant necessary requests in the North which may prove beneficial to our alliance. The one and true Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen

Finishing reading, Cregan downed his ale and sat, pensive. It offended his code of honor that there were those who went against the solemn oath they had sworn in the Queen’s youth, and per his morals, he would make true to his promise and render what aid to the rightful queen that was necessary. Nevertheless, it struck him that straits must be dire if Rhaenyra sent her only daughter to fly through a storm to reach Winterfell.

The situation did not bode well in his mind, nor his warrior’s heart. Gods be good, the princess would wake and recover and could shed more light on what had come to pass. Regardless, he would make it his first action come dawn to dispatch ravens to his bannermen and summon their lords to a council at Winterfell. He could see few ways out of this now where the northmen did not march south to make war on behalf of their dragon queen, and it was time to prepare.

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

sorry to message but i just wanted to yell because I saw a post and yOU’RE THE AUTHOR OF FALLOUT FROM THE FADE ???? oh my goodness it’s my favourite fic ive read it SO many times.

i left a comment on ao3 last night because i finished reading it again and i just genuinely hope one day you finish it (i understand you have much going on i am just greedy).

but yes thank you so much for creating it, fenris and hawke are everything to me and this fic is my canon no matter what happens in veilguard. 💜

hahaha HELLO yes that is indeed I... I guess i do owe a little bit of an explanation here since its been uh... like 4 years since I last updated, yeah :| But it still makes me so happy that even after so long people still enjoy my little pile of suffering and yearning!

I don't know how many people who used to follow it are still on tumblr (I think a lot of people i used to write with/who would comment have deleted their tumblrs and AO3 accounts in the intervening years alas) but i do I owe anyone remaining a little context I guess lol. Long story made short is like very shortly after my last update i got broken up with unexpectedly from my 4 year relationship, and went into a bit of a spiral about it. I didn't fully stop writing at this point (though I think nothing I wrote in that like... year or more ended up posted anywhere), but I did realize that when I went to work on my ongoing stuff I was in a place where I was like... only wanting to write about anger/losing relationships rather than healing ones. And that part of me wanted to change some of the things I had planned for the following parts and ending of Fallout From the Fade. And so I decided to take a step back from it for a while to see if I actually wanted to make those changes when I was less bitter or if I wanted to follow my original plan.

And that took me about a year, emotionally. However by then I had actually left my prior job (where I spent a lot of time hiking/camping in the wilderness of Utah with no internet, and I used that time for writing), and started graduate school courses. Aaaannnd grad school has been slowly eating my life since. I've only posted I think one other fanfic since then, and it was a very short prose-poem one shot. Another contributing factor was my gaming tech was too old to actually play Trespasser when it came out, and by the time I got a laptop that could handle it, I had to replay the whole game but I was working full time, etc... and i felt really disconnected from the DA fandom since I couldn't read all the new fic/understand all the lore deep dive posts/experience it with everyone else simultaneously. Oh yeah and I work a second job as a professional mermaid in varying degrees of intensity depending on the season/oportunties available haha.

All that being said. I actually have written more of FFtF in the last 2 years. But like I said in the other post I made kinda recently, the long gaps between my later updates (vs the ones I was doing way more regularly in 2016-2018) had me rethink the approach I was using to write and post it, which was a chapter at a time. It felt like stringing people along in kind of a mean way to dump a chapter and then vanish for another year, and I knew I couldn't promise consistency while doing a masters/PhD program. So I've been kind of fiddling away at it slowly still, both actual writing of following chapters, and some substantial firming up/drafting sections in my outline to get to the eventual ending and ensure it's more cohesive than a lot of my slapdash chapters. But! Idk! I do also def work slower without the fun of having an audience, and miss that. and I never actually asked of the people who are left and still wanna read more of it, if they'd rather just get a chapter every 6 months or so as I scrounge it out. If you are one of those people and have an opinion def let me know.

I will say, the imminent presence of Veilguard does have me more inspired and creative again, and some of that has been going to Fallout. Especially since I'm no longer watching the videos/gameplay bioware is putting out since they have SOOO many spoilers and I wanna go into the game at least semi blind, so my creative energy has to go towards my personal stuff rather than joining everyone else in speculation and hype now. I'm definitely not promising I will have it close to finished by October when Veilguard releases, because I'm still in grad school and the next months are busy for me in terms of mermaid work too, but I am hoping I can make some good chunks of progress between now and then. But then if I say that and can't follow through after all I also don't wanna let people down.

Anyway yeah, it's sort of a lot of conflicting thoughts. But I'm still rotating Hawke and Fenris and this fic in my mind even these years later... which for me is honestly pretty normal. I mean I have whole original novels/worldbuilding ideas/etc that I've worked on for 10-15 years in my own time haha, I've been writing fiction for fun since I was like 10, so I think I also just think of stories/writing across a bigger timeline than people who start writing with fanfiction (which is MUCH faster paced) than original fiction. The difference of course is no one sees my original stuff so there's no one to care if i take 2 years between chunks of progress. SO I guess what I am trying to say is, yes definitely it is not abandoned, I am plodding away at it bit by bit, I also hope I can finish it one day!!!! that is within this decade i hope! whether or not anyone else is left to read it but me haha

[readingwiththereids]

yanda! speaks: hello my loves! i’m so sorry that it took so long for this chapter to come out, i realised that i just really hated my outlines for the next three chapters and decided to scrap everything and change it lol. but nonetheless, it’s here now and i hope you like it! don't forget to like and reblog! lots of love and light! 🤎

masterlist

notes: i pictured blake as grant show from dynasty but imagine whoever you want :)

night rain ; chapter 6

2022

The wind ruffled the fabric of her dress as she climbed out of the limousine and stared up at Carmen’s apartment building. His figure stalked out of the door in a crisp, all-black suit before stopping in the middle of the doorway once he finally looked at her. Camila looked beautiful, devastatingly at that. The setting sun illuminated her skin perfectly, making her look similar to some type of fairy-like being. Carmy thought that the dress she wore fit her gorgeously and took note of how the slit of it ran all the way up her alluring, bronze legs. Her smile glowed the same as a million suns as she took him in too, looking him up and down.

“You look…” he trailed off, in shock.

“You look handsome too, Carm.” Camila giggled back before beckoning him over to the vehicle behind her and getting in.

Carmen followed apprehensively before shutting the car door as he got in.

“This is Mel, he’ll be our driver tonight.”

“Hello, Mr Berzatto,” an old man quipped from the front seat.

“Cut the crap, Melman.” Camila said, rolling her eyes.

“You’re a pain in the ass, Ms Ivy.”

Bewilderedly watching the exchange between the chauffeur and the woman to his right, Carmy spoke up.

“Do you normally get to places in a limo?”

“No, of course not. My boss just insists on it any time that there’s a semi-special event going on.” she laughed.

“It’s because he’s in love with her.” Mel cut in from the front as he made a turn.

“He?” Carmy looked at Camila.

“That’s not true!” she exclaimed, avoiding eye contact with him.

As the car then slowed to a red light, Melman turned to look at Carmen with a mischievous smile on his face.

“Trust me, every single employee at La Fame knows that it’s true. Even the drivers.”

As Carmy opened his mouth to say something, which probably would have been entirely reckless as a mix of frustration and jealousy had started to bubble in his chest, Camila interrupted the two men’s conversation.

“Can we please just listen to some music?” 

Mel smirked from the front, “Yes, Ms Ivy.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

^^^^^^^^^

Just as Carmen was helping Camila out of the car, a small red-headed woman in a sapphire knee-length dress and black heels, briskly walked up to the pair carrying a clipboard.

“Cam, I made sure that they brought over your cakes in one of those refrigerated trucks but when I checked one of the boxes, I saw that three were missing and that the delivery guy had crumbs all over his face. So I fired him.”

“Noelle! Why would you do that?”

“I just explained why, did you not hear?”

“I heard you but that’s not-”

“Hey, you!” Noelle shouted at one of the workers setting up the venue before striding towards them. “That doesn’t go there!”

“That’s my assistant, Noelle. She’s a little intense right now but I promise she’ll be a pleasure to be around in a couple of hours.” Camila whispered in Carmen’s ear, her warm breath and tone sending goosebumps up his spine.

“Okay! I’m back,” the shorter woman returned. “Oh! Oh. You must be Carm.”

“You and Mel are seriously getting on my nerves tonight. I swear to God-”

“Melman drove you? What fun.” she laughed before turning to Carmy as he introduced himself properly.

“Yeah. Uh, yes. I’m Carmen, nice to meet you.” He stuttered, shaking her hand.

“He’s cute,” she whispered to Camila before turning around and walking into the venue, signalling for the pair to follow before continuing to speak.

“Jess said that you’re overseeing the caterers tonight but it shouldn’t be anything hectic. We’ve used them before and they’re pretty professional, all you need to do is check in with them every couple of hours.”

“Can I go chat with them now?” Cam asked.

“Of course. Also for your peace of mind, Blake isn’t here yet.”

“Who’s Blake?” Carmy finally spoke up from a few steps behind the pair.

“Her stalk-” Noelle started before noticing the pointed look that her superior was giving her. “Her boss. Come on, the kitchen is this way.”

^^^^^^^^^

“And so, I just wanted to say how much we really appreciate you all being here. Not that you had a choice, but even as an outsider, I know first-hand how difficult your job is so thank you for working with us this evening. If you need anything at all, do not hesitate to come find me.” Camila finished as the workers of the catering company clapped and got back to work. 

“Alright, a bunch of the guests just pulled in. You two ready?” Noelle asked the pair.

“Never better.” Carmen breathed anxiously as they walked into the gala hall, packed with dozens of guests that immediately turned their attention to Cam and her unknown date.

The slight shake in his hands and the pickup in his breathing must have alerted the brown-skinned woman because she immediately moved to come to his side and slid her arm through his. 

“You alright, Bear?”

Carmy chose not to point out the use of the nickname, instead opting to nod his head as Noelle led them towards the crowd.

^^^^^^^^^

Camila was in her element. Swift and elegant as she moved from group to group, the same was said about her ability to shift from each conversation. Carmen noticed as each person always became entranced by her as soon as she entered their view, everyone suddenly became so willing to open up to her and keep the conversation going that they ended up telling her secrets they hadn’t anticipated telling a single soul. She had always had that magnetically welcoming quality to her. It was one of his favourite things about her, that she was always able to get anything out of him and even when she couldn’t, she already knew. Without words, she could already anticipate and be ready to comfort every one of his emotions and feelings before he even realised that he had them. It was also one of the things that he missed most about her. Since her sudden absence in his life, Carmy found it even more difficult to express himself to anyone else. Hell, he even had a hard time understanding himself without her to guide him through it. She was one of his greatest comforts and it was because of her that he knew he was capable of functioning internally in such an orderly way. But at the same time, in a way, she had ruined him.

“Oh, my God! Camila, you are always such a joy to talk to.” A blonde woman by the name of Jessica laughed. 

“By the way, Blake’s asking everyone if they’ve seen you,” she added, wiggling her brows at the younger woman.

“Oh, really?” Cam awkwardly laughed before seeing said man, walking towards her from across the hall.

Turning to Noelle and Carmy behind her who had been simply spectating her extraordinary interactions with the guests in attendance, she whispered, “mátame ahora.” [kill me now.]

“Hun, you know I have no idea what you’re saying right now,” Noelle mumbled, turning the girl back in the direction of the older man who now stood before her.

From where Carmy was standing, he could barely hear Camila’s conversation with Blake but after they exchanged what seemed to be pleasantries, Blake made a little bit of a show while kissing her hand. Carmen could have sworn that he made eye contact with the man as he did it but maybe he was just imagining it. Nevertheless, it still pissed him off, which he thought could be easily pointed out by his clenched jaw had anyone been looking. Coincidentally, Noelle had been looking his way right at that moment.

“Hey. Don’t even worry about him,” she started before looking back at the two still speaking in front of them. “Unfortunately, it’s just part of the job.”

Just then, Camila turned back to the pair with wide eyes, waving them (particularly Carmy) over. 

“Carm, darling. I’d like you to meet my boss, Blake.”

“Oh, no, don’t call me that. No such thing as ‘ranks’ here. We’re just one big happy family.” Blake laughed while reaching for Carmen’s hand.

“And yet, I haven’t gotten a raise in 2 years and you still call me Nina.” Noelle mumbled under her breath behind them, prompting him to stifle a laugh before speaking.

“Carmen, sir. Nice to meet you.” 

“Baby, I was just about to tell Blake here about how we might have to leave early.”

When the curly-haired boy only looked back at her with confusion, Camila continued.

“We have an early morning tomorrow. We’re taking a drive up to Lake Michigan for the weekend, just a little getaway.

This caused Blake’s face to drop. 

“Oh. A couple’s getaway, that is?”

Finally, Carmy caught on, rushing to answer to not force Cam to speak to this man much longer.

“Yes. We’re celebrating our anniversary.”

“Wow,” the older man chuckled bitterly through gritted teeth. “Sounds great. How long have you two been-”

Thankfully, one of the catering staff interrupted the conversation to let Camila know that two of their stagiaires had disappeared from the kitchen and now there was no one to prep the onions for the appetiser. Humbly, and also looking for any excuse to leave, Cam and Carm offered their services. And so now, here they were. Sat side by side, on crates in the corner of the scullery, peeling onions by hand and dropping them into a container that rested at their feet.

“I feel like I haven’t done this in decades.” Carmen chuckled as he dropped a freshly peeled one into the container. His jacket was long forgotten, his top button undone and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His curls fell into his eyes as his skilled, inked hands worked on the husk of another. Even in such a dishevelled and humbling circumstance, he still looked breathtaking.

“I doubt decades, but yeah. It takes you back.” Camila agreed as she threw another layer into the makeshift pile next to her. Respectively, her heels stood carelessly in the corner next to Carmy, her hair had been messily unclipped and her jewellery sat in the darkness of her purse. Had you asked the boy next to her, however, he would have said that she’d never looked more perfect. Granted, he used to say the same thing when she was leaking mucus and phlegm cause she had the flu, so no one could really say how true that statement was.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about what I did back there. Blake was really laying in on suggesting that I spend the weekend going over strategy with him at his house in Aspen and I, uh, I just needed a way out of it. But thank you for going along with it, so much.”

“Of course, Cam. I’d do anything for you,” that had come out slightly more romantic than he intended, so Carmen continued. “Can I ask why you put up with it though? From what I’ve heard tonight, it sounds like it’s pretty much an everyday occurrence.”

A beat. 

From the deep breath that she took, he feared that he might have offended her before she finally muttered, “I don’t know. I think I just, I just like it here? I mean, I love my job. I love that I get to be part of giving shine to small chefs who are just like I was, just trying to get some type of recognition. I even love doing shit like this stupid gala because I know it keeps everyone motivated to do this job. Also, it’s already so hard for women to get this far in this field, especially at this age. I mean, I know that everyone just thinks I slept my way to an executive position, that there’s lists that go around the office about who’s most ‘smashable’ and that I’ve been top 3 for almost three years straight.”

“But I also know how many girls feel inspired that I’ve gotten this far,” she continued. “That they have someone in their corner when Blake doesn’t want to make another woman ‘Chef of the Moment’ two months in a row because he ‘doesn’t want them to get a big head’. I know that they count on me to be their voice and as much as I might hate the things that come with it, I have to keep going.”

Carmy had no idea what to say, how to express how deeply he understood and empathised with her words. So he said the only word that he knew would get the point, at least partly, across.

“Heard.”

However, this only forced a giggle to bubble out of Camila as she looked at him with shock.

“Heard? I just poured my deepest thoughts out to you and you said ‘heard’?” 

She was laughing harder now, clutching onto his bicep to stay upright. Carmen felt bad and didn’t think it was entirely that funny but her smile was contagious, as was her laugh and so he began to chuckle too. The pair looked insane, giggling their asses off as they sat in a dimmed corner of the event hall’s kitchen, surrounded by the husks of onions. But they didn’t care, because for a second it felt like the old them and they would do anything to feel that again.

Finally, they came down.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Carmy halfheartedly chuckled. “I, uh, what I meant to say is that I’m proud of you. As much as it might suck, I always knew that you’d end up doing big things one day and now you are, so I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

The girl quickly made a move to hug him before he could avoid it, enveloping her arms around his shoulders. Hesitantly, he returned it before settling into the familiar warmth of her embrace.

“I’m really proud of you too, Carm. I hope you know that. After everything that you’ve gone through, that you’ve achieved, I always knew you could do it.” 

Carmy shook his head as she continued.

“Even now, that restaurant is in the best shape that it’s been in a long time and that’s all thanks to you. My mom actually likes going to work now and with a little more pushing, I’m pretty sure we can get her to put on the apron.” Camila laughed as he let out a chuckle. Her hands moved to cup his cheeks so that they would make eye contact. 

“You are so special, Carmen. You never fail to impress me, not that you need it. I swear you deserve the world.”

“Then why did you leave?” he finally whispered back, bright blue eyes boring piercing into her own.

His words caught Camila by surprise, her mouth slightly agape. Before she could get another word out, however, Noelle was dropping a plate of the desserts that they made earlier, in front of them.

“Guys, holy shit. These are fire, you have to eat one. They’re amazing.”

Sensing the tense energy between the two she paused, eyes bouncing between them before continuing.

“Okay…I’m not even going to ask. Try them. Also, Blake is pissed! During entrées, he was fully ranting at Garrett that he’s gonna scrap the whole bringing your partners' thing. Just employees.” she laughed.

“Really? That’s uh…great.” Camila muttered quietly, her eyes still flicking to the man next to her.

Still sensing the awkwardness, Noelle stood up, “You two are killing my buzz.” before walking away and leaving the pair alone again.

They sat in silence for a second, glumly staring down at their hands until both tried to speak at the same time.

“Cam, listen, I’m sor-”

“Carmy. I don’t know what to-”

“No, no. Let me finish, okay. I’m sorry that I said that. It was uncalled for and a little cruel. I just, it feels like you’ve just reappeared in my life and it’s as if you never left. You still feel the same. I’m just scared, I think. Of what happens if we do this again, take that chance. But I know that you don’t owe me an explanation until you’re ready. I can wait.”

When he was only met with a longing stare and silence, he cleared his throat and changed the subject.

“If they’re on dessert now, I doubt that they still need us on this. You wanna go back out?”

Camila shook her head slowly.

“You wanna go back home?”

Another shake.

“What then?”

After pretending to think for a second, she finally spoke up.

“You wanna go roller skating?”

“Roller skating? In these clothes?” Carmen laughed, watching her stand and reach her hand down for him to grab.

“Who cares? Let it rip, right?”

“Let it rip.”

yanda! speaks (again): so since i really just changed the entire direction of which this fic was going, the chapters were cut down to 10 instead of 12 so we’re just over halfway now 😛 also, i’ll be offline for the next couple of days so i made this one a little longer to make up for it! alright, bye!

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