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millersdjarin · 1 year ago

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I Only See Daylight - 20

Chapter Twenty

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!AFAB!Reader

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings/Tags: smut, SUPER loving sex, skinny dipping, piv sex, tenderness, found family, mentions of scars/insecurity

Chapter Length: 8k

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist & Info | Full Masterlist

notes: if you've seen any of my recent tumblr posts or updates on the fic tag, you'll know i've been having MAJOR tech problems, as well as various Life Problems too! hence why this took an ABSURD amount of time to update! i am SO sorry, i can only apologise and offer this new chapter that i hope was worth the insane wait. thankfully i have my laptop back and didn't lose any of the fic, so all is well again. (i'm still sick tho). anyway, enough from me - let's get to what you're here for! enjoy ♥︎

recap: reader and din are on the run from the cult that raised her, and they're escaping to D'Qar to hide out while they wait for the aid of boba fett, who is hoping to make a deal with the cult for reader's freedom.

and now i see daylight, i only see daylight

There’s nothing but green as you fly over the jungles of D’Qar. Despite living in forestland for years, it’s never lost on you—the beauty of it.

Din finds a tiny clearing to just about fit the ship in. It’s beneath the cover of a mountain, tucked away in a huge cove of rocks, rivers, and waterfalls. When you first see the space, you’re not sure he’s going to be able to manage it; it looks so small. But he knows the size of his ship, and he knows exactly how to manoeuvre it, so he lands just perfectly on the flat, rocky ground in the clearing.

It’s only a few hours until sunset, Din says, but you and the kid are excited to get out and have a look around. So as soon as everything’s secure, you lower the ramp, instantly hit with the warm, humid atmosphere of the jungle surrounding you. It’s somehow loud and quiet all at once; rushing water is close by and all kinds of wildlife are tweeting, chirping, croaking, whether in the trees or in the brush. The late evening sun is lowering, casting a golden-red glow through the tall, evergreen trees that surround you.

A river runs underneath the ship. It’s only small, probably shallow enough for even the kid to stand up in. But it’s running quickly and downhill, winding around damp rocks covered in moss. The waterfall feeds into the lake just ahead; this is probably one of the offshoots from it.

“You like it?” Din’s modulated voice says over your shoulder.

You turn to him, the kid in your arms. “We like it,” you confirm, smiling.

Grogu is leaning over towards the river, making grabbing motions at it. He seems fascinated by the running water. He probably also wants to look for fish and frogs to eat in it, too. You know him well.

“Not tonight, kiddo,” you tell him apologetically, straightening the collar of his robe. “We can explore some more tomorrow. We’ve been travelling a while, haven’t we?”

His ears turn down sadly. He looks at you, gives the Pleading Eyes.

As cute as he is, you’re not as much of a sucker as Din. (He’d never admit to it. Ever. But you know that he is, when it comes to Grogu.) You give him a little smile and a shake of your head. “Sorry, kid. Your dad and I are tired. We can explore all you like tomorrow, though; we’re here for a few days.”

Grogu looks to Din, like he’s asking for a second opinion.

He sighs, long-suffering. “Kid,” he says, so rueful it’s almost comical, “sorry, but I agree. I’m not gonna go against her word, you know that.”

Your heart swells.

Grogu looks significantly less pleased by Din’s words, though.

And, boy, does he let you know it.

You’d been hoping that maybe you and Din could have some alone time tonight. Really take your time, enjoy it, make each other feel like nothing bad in the Galaxy will ever touch any of you again. It’s what you both need right now.

But Grogu has other plans.

He refuses to settle.

In hindsight, it makes sense. You’ve been in hyperspace for days with no fresh air and no opportunity for him to use up some energy. And he’s been so good with sleep all this time, despite the fact that his days have been pretty dull and routine. Really, he was overdue a hyperactive night. He’s just a little kid, after all, and he’s done this a few times while you’ve been with them, especially since extended periods stuck in hyperspace have become a thing. He usually crashes and falls asleep where he stands by a few hours before the day cycle begins.

But, kriff. You’re so tired. You hadn’t realised just how much sleep has been helping you heal until it’s been six hours since the moons rose, it’s four until they set again, and you’re not just exhausted but starting to ache.

As you remove Grogu from one of the power line tunnels for the seventh time, you feel a soft hand sitting on your shoulder. Plopping Grogu back down on the floor, you look up to find Din beside you with a mug of something steaming in his hand. “You should get some sleep,” he says quietly, then takes Grogu in his arm and hands him the mug. You realise it’s his favourite: a malty, chocolate hot drink that Din always gives him when he’s scared, tired, or he can’t sleep.

Grogu takes it eagerly. He wiggles to get out of Din’s arms, so Din puts him down in his hammock and sits down beside him, resting his elbow on the top of Grogu’s cubbyhole.

“I’m fine,” you lie, suppressing a yawn.

“No, you’re not. Go to bed. He’ll settle soon.”

You look at him. At the tired tilt of his body, leaning against the little door. You can hear the tiny slurps of Grogu enjoying his drink. On nights like these, Din knows the exact right time to give Grogu his hot cocoa, timing it with the oncoming energy crash. It helps bring it sooner, when he does it right.

“Cyar’ika,” Din says softly, calling your attention back to him. You hadn’t even realised that your gaze had slipped away, your eyes blurring over with tiredness. “I mean it. Get some sleep. I’ll come and hold you soon, once he’s settled.”

You sigh. “Alright. But tomorrow, we’re taking him out there, and we’re tiring him the fuck out.”

A tired chuckle comes through the modulator. “Agreed.”

“I’m taking him swimming. He wanted to do that.”

“He’ll love that. Don’t talk about it too much, though, or he’ll think we’re going to do it right now.”

You chuckle, too, even though it hurts. Pushing yourself up from the floor with a groan, you then walk over to Din, and lean down to press a kiss to his helmet. “Call me if you need me, okay?”

He takes a hold of your hand and squeezes it. “Promise.”

You’re asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.

You don’t know how much longer it is until you feel Din slide in behind you, still wearing his armour, gently wrapping his arm around your waist. “I’m here,” he whispers, quiet enough not to wake you if you were asleep, but loud enough that you’d hear it if you stirred.

Which you do. Just enough to shuffle back into him, take hold of his hand, and fall asleep again.

When the day comes, Grogu wakes with it.

Which you expected. But, still.

Din is already awake and taking him upstairs for breakfast. Tiredly, you follow them, and it’s only because you know him so well that you notice the way Din is standing differently. The way he only does when he’s exhausted.

“I’ll take Grogu out this morning,” you say to Din while he cooks up breakfast for all three of you. “You can catch up on some sleep.”

Din shakes his head. “I want to come.”

“You don’t have to. We won’t go far.”

“I want to come,” he says again, in that tone of voice that says Thank you, but I’m not going to change my mind.

Knowing this, you nod, and sit down at the table beside the kid. He looks bright-eyed and innocent, like he didn’t spend over half the night trying to tear the ship apart.

“Are you going to swim with us?” You ask Din, smiling teasingly.

“I think the beskar might weigh me down,” he replies, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Who said anything about beskar?”

“You asking me to scar the kid for life by going in naked?”

“Fair point.”

“What are you going to swim in? And the kid?”

“I figure we can change his robe afterwards; this one needs cleaned anyway. And I’m going in my shirt and underwear.”

His helmet tilts towards you for a second, glancing at you. “I’m definitely coming.”

You giggle, and feign shock, “Get a hold of yourself. Not in front of the kid, Mando.”

Chuckling, he dishes up breakfast, and slides two plates across the table for you and Grogu. He takes his own plate, and tells you he’s going to eat in the cockpit. He’s still getting used to eating in front of you. Hell, he’s still getting used to having his helmet off in front of you, period, but he hasn’t eaten at all without it yet. You understand, and it doesn’t bother you. You’re just lucky to have any part of him at all.

The waterfall is just behind the trees a few metres along from the ship, pouring down over a sheer cliff face a ways up the mountain. Green vines and long tree branches hang over it, colourful flies dancing in the rainbow water spray before it hits the lake below. The lake is big, curving around the base of the mountain before it runs down over a rock and splits into little rivers. The water is clear but looks blue and green with the small pebbles and soft, mossy plants that coat the bed of it. It’s hot out here, but pleasantly so, the sun shining brightly in the late-morning blue sky.

Grogu is cooing excitedly in your arms. You’ve got a towel wrapped around your shoulders and a smaller one over one of your arms for him, along with a spare robe. Din follows closely behind.

You stop by the shore of the river, watching as Din lays out a blanket on the ground to sit on. As you turn to look at him, the sun glints brightly off his armour, the bright green of your surroundings reflecting in the beskar and making him look like he’s one with nature. Or, as close as someone covered in metal could look to being one with nature. Your heart swells with warmth as you’re reminded of the first few days you spent together; when so much of your mind was occupied with how he’d look in different lights, in different worlds.

It hits you, for a second, that you’re getting to see it. That you can not only admire the way he’s somehow never looked more silver, but also looks green and brown all at the same time; but also you can tell him how you feel. You can touch that armour, touch him.

The poor kid is trying to get a good look at the water, trying to get you to put him down. But you’re too transfixed by the sight of Din. By the fact that this is everything you ever wanted, since the first moment you heard his voice.

“Cyar’ika?” Din questions, stepping closer. “You okay?”

You snap back to the moment at hand. Finally you put the kid on the ground, and he runs towards the water in an instant. “Sorry,” you say, and glance back at the kid, “Can he swim?”

Din shakes his head. “He won’t go deeper than he can handle. He likes to just splash.” He steps closer again, close enough to put his gloved hand on the underside of your elbow. “Where’d you go, in your head just now?”

Your hand finds his chest plate. You look down, see your reflection in it, the green trees behind you. A smile is on your face before you realise. “You’re beautiful,” you say instead of answering his question. When you look back up at his helmet, it’s tilted slightly, quizzically. “We’ve come a long way,” you whisper.

His thumb rubs over your arm. “I’ve loved every minute.”

Your heart lurches. If you could, you’d lean up and kiss him.

“Kid’s waiting,” Din says, nodding his head over your shoulder.

When you turn around, Grogu is standing in the very shallows, only an inch of water above the hem of his robe. He’s looking at you with a tilted head, his ears turned in a way that asks you a question. You chuckle at the sight of him. “I’m coming, kiddo. You wanna go swimming with me?”

Grinning, he jumps up and down on the spot and waves his hands around a little. Water splashes up around him.

You hear Din chuckle from behind you, then feel the towel start to slip from your clothed shoulders, his hands following in its wake, slowly rubbing down your arms. He hooks his helmet over your shoulder. “Go on,” he says lowly, “I’ll keep watch.”

You turn your head and press your nose into the hollow of his helmet’s cheek, then give him a sunny grin before you run towards the shore, towards the kid who’s looking increasingly excited.

Happiness is warm in your veins, like the sun in the sky, like the feeling of the water on your skin.

After a long swim and a hike around the surrounding hills and forest, the three of you are well and truly hungry. You’d let the warm air dry you out as you walked and picked berries and herbs for dinner, gathering them in Din’s satchel. Grogu started tiring an hour out from the ship, but you coaxed him along with promises of finding some nice insects for him to catch; which he did, and enjoyed every single one.

Now you’re back at the ship, and Din is cooking up some fresh meat with the herbs you picked, while you make a little fruit salad from all the fruit you found in the forest. The sun is setting, Grogu is watching his HoloNet show, and he’s looking very sleepy.

Dinner is what gets him truly ready to sleep. He’s snuggling into Mando’s thigh by the end of it, looking about ready to drop off right there and then and make it his bed for the night. With a soft chuckle, and a knowing glance towards you, Din lifts him up from the sofa and cradles him in his elbow.

“Night, kiddo,” you reach out and run your hand over Grogu’s cheek. His ear twitches in response, his left eye opening just enough to look at you. Din reaches out with his spare hand to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear, then he turns, and heads down the ladder.

You follow after a minute, anticipation stirring low in your belly as you hope for the much-needed night alone with Din. Absently, you listen to the soft sounds of him putting the kid to bed. It doesn’t take long.

Before you know it, Din’s standing in the bed chamber doorway. “He’s out. Like a light.”

“Mission accomplished, then?”

Din nods. “He’s snoring, so we know he’s really asleep.”

You chuckle softly, letting your eyes roam over Din now that you know you have him to yourself. You reach out your hand towards him. “Come to bed?”

He takes your hand, but doesn’t climb into bed. Instead, he smoothes his thumb over your knuckles, and says, “I thought we could go for a swim.”

Oh.

You weren’t expecting that. Somehow, it’s better than what you were expecting, which you didn’t think was possible.

“Yeah?” You just about manage to say, your voice coming out as a squeak as anticipation spikes higher in your chest.

He nods. “It’s a nice night. Moons are out, kid’s asleep…”

You nod, too, and bite your bottom lip. “Din,” you whisper, “are you asking me to go moonlight skinny dipping?”

A lovely chuckle comes through the helmet. He steps closer, reaches out his other hand to brush it down your cheek. “Yes, Mesh’la, I am.”

“Well,” you push yourself up from the bed without another moment to waste, “don’t have to ask me twice. Will the kid be OK?”

“Like I said, he’s out of it. I’ve put a live commlink in there with him, just in case,” he fishes said commlink out of his pocket. Then, with a smirk in his voice, “It’s waterproof.”

Oh, he has planned-planned this. You could not be more thrilled.

It’s still so warm outside. The moons are full and bright, casting a white light over the entire jungle. It reflects on the lake, glimmering in ripples of water and illuminating the waterfall as if it’s made of light itself.

Din has taken off his armour, leaving him in just his flight suit and helmet. You’re wearing the shirt you wore to swim earlier and underwear beneath it. Din reaches for your hand as you pad towards the lake; you’ve never held hands while walking before, and it’s strange, but nice. Definitely unnecessary outside of a situation like this, but, still.

He stops by the shore, and you stop too. The waterfall is loud at the other side of the lake, but calming.

Then, Din starts to take his flight suit off. You’re too distracted by the slow reveal of his skin at first to realise that you should probably be getting undressed too. He just looks ethereal beneath the moons’ glow; it reflects from his helmet and makes his skin glow as he strips off his suit and lets it fall to the floor. He glances at you, knowing you’re watching, and when he pulls off his helmet there’s an amused smirk on his lovely lips.

“You’re looking at me like I’m a show,” he says, leaning down to place the helmet carefully on the grass.

You smile. “You are to me.”

He leans down and kisses you, just once, chaste. Like he can’t help it. Then he takes off his boxers, and he’s naked before you, glowing white in the daylight-like lights shining in the sky. Now you’re really distracted. If you thought naked Din was perfect all wet and tousled in the shower, this is something else entirely. He’s not even wet yet. You can’t wait for him to be wet.

As if reading your mind, he places a kiss on your forehead before whispering, “See you in there.” And he’s off, wading into the water.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip while you watch him go. The muscles in his back shift as he walks so casually into the lake, brushing at the surface with his fingertips. They leave diagonal trails in the water, like skimming stones. His back is so broad, so muscular, all highlights and shadows in the light.

And his ass. Kriff, that’s the Ass of the Galaxy right there. Glowing under the moonlight, curved just right, muscles shifting with each push of his legs through the water. It’s a shame when he gets in deep enough that it covers him. He turns around when he’s waist-deep and raises an eyebrow.

“Are you coming?”

Probably in more ways than one, yes.

You quickly strip off, feeling self-conscious standing here on the shore in front of him, and wade over to meet him. The waterfall is close now, just on the other side of the lake, rushing down from the mountain. If you get any closer, you’ll probably feel tiny droplets of spray.

You reach your hand out as you approach Din, and he takes it with a soft smile. As you come to a stop in front of him, you look up into his eyes, and all the breath falls from your lungs. Somehow, looking at him like this overwhelms all the other senses in your body. The water is warm around you, and the lake floor is a strange combination of soft and rocky, some plants tickling at your toes. The air is a little humid but nice, comforting, something you’ve not felt before. And the sound of rushing water is all-consuming, covering all noises of the jungle wildlife and even the wild beating of your heart.

And he’s here, naked, his bare and damp skin on show before you.

But his eyes are what holds you. They are what make you feel weak in the knees, what make your fingertips tingle. Especially when he looks at you like that.

Like he knows you.

Like he loves you.

“You are so beautiful,” he says into the space between you, his voice somehow coming up clearer than anything, even above the noise.

You stroke your hand down his cheek, leaving a wet mark there. Then you move to his chest, running through the chest hairs, smiling when his skin rises into goosebumps. You wonder how many times it’s done that when you can’t see it; when it’s hidden behind his armour.

“You’re perfect,” you tell him.

It’s not really quiet enough to talk. Thankfully, you don’t need to.

He pulls you in by the waist and presses your bodies flush together, all warm and wet and bare here beneath the two moons. His arms wrap around your middle, and yours around his neck as you stand on your tiptoes to hook your head over his shoulder. Your hands are wet as they tangle in his hair, press against his shoulder blade, feeling his lips so hot and gorgeous against your neck. He mouths lazily at your skin. Doesn’t suck or bite or even really kiss; just touches you with his lips and his tongue, like he’s trying to take as much of you as possible, like he wants his breath to go into your skin and make you his on the inside, as much as leaving a mark on the outside would.

You let him. You let him, too, when he pulls away and takes your hand, leading you over to the waterfall.

Your eyes don’t leave him the entire time. They don’t need to; he’s guiding you, and you don’t need to watch where you’re going.

He stops in front of the rushing water and looks down at you expectantly, his hand still in yours. You raise an eyebrow in question, to which he responds, “We’re going under it.”

Your eyebrow raises, too. “I love to shower with you, but I think this shower’s flow might be a little too strong.”

He grins. His skin is shining with water spray, making him sparkle. “We just have to go under for a second, then we’re going behind it. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

Always trusting him, you nod, and follow when he tugs on your hand again.

The waterfall is pretty intense as you walk under it; you do it as fast as you can, worried at first that it might hurt you, but it doesn’t. It’d probably feel pretty good against your tired muscles, actually, if it weren’t for the still-healing wounds on your back. Din seems to enjoy it; he stands under the flow for a little longer than you, letting it run over his back and closing his eyes for a second. (You make a mental note to give him a massage one of these days. You don’t know how you haven’t thought about it before.)

Standing behind the waterfall, you’re in a strange sort of cave area, a metre or so in between the flow and the cliff face behind it. The rocks are shining, glistening in the moonlight that comes through the water. When you turn to look out where you came from, you’re amazed by the sight: the bright white of the moons is shining through the wall of water that encases you in this little haven, making each large droplet look like a light, a white flame rushing down towards the lake. It’s like a cascade of stars too dense to see each individual one before it falls.

When you look to Din, the light and shadow from it is dancing across his face. The water that you stand in is sparkling, too, casting a rippling reflection on the skin under his jaw. You’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.

“You like it?” He asks you, his voice surprisingly loud as it echoes from the wall.

A smile stretches your lips. “I love it,” you tell him with a nod of your head. You reach out and hold him again, this time wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss him, soft and sweet. “It’s like our own little hideaway.”

He trails his lips over your cheek, your jaw, down to your neck. His wet hands sit gently on your waist. As he kisses your bare shoulder, paying special attention to the curve of your clavicle, your hands run down over his pecs, fingertips catching on his hardened nipples. Yours are hard, too; you can feel them where they press against his chest.

You close your eyes as he starts to suck a mark at the place where your shoulder meets your neck. One hand runs down his chest, towards his belly button, the other back up into his hair. A pleasured breath releases from your mouth when his hands slide down your body, around to the small of your back and eventually landing on your ass, one hand on each cheek. He squeezes, just lightly. A soft gasp from you is rewarded with an even softer whimper from Din, breathed right into the crook of your neck as he continues to nip at your skin.

“Din,” you whisper, not the start of a sentence, but a statement. Because you’ll never get tired of saying his name. You tighten your hand in his hair, pull on it a little, earning another one of those lovely, soft moans. You feel it vibrating in your neck.

Then he’s moving down, his face coming to rest between your breasts. It feels colder without him pressed right against you, but he’s still close enough for you to touch him just the same, the hand on his tummy running back up through his chest hair, then down his arm.

You gasp as his mouth closes around one of your hard nipples. Your hand in his hair tightens in response, pulls him in even closer, urges him to do it again.

He does, and he sucks it into his mouth. The pull is fucking gorgeous. He’s never done this before; you don’t ever want him to stop. His mouth is so hot and wet, a contrast to the damp sheen on the rest of your skin that’s leaving you with a bit of a chill. You feel his tongue lapping at the underside of your nipple. The texture of it has just the right amount of roughness.

He moves to the other breast and continues his job there. You’re whimpering, barely even hearing yourself, just feeling your chest moving in his mouth as breaths escape your throat.

“Din, that’s…that’s so good…”

He hums his approval. When he pulls his mouth off you, you can just about hear the pop, and you definitely feel the string of spit that connects your skin to his mouth for a second. “If the water was shallow, I’d get my head between your legs, too, Mesh’la…” he breathes as his mouth finds yours again, not giving you a chance to say anything in response before he’s kissing you again, all open-mouthed and hot and breathy. You just moan, surprised and pleased. Your arms wrap all the way around his neck and pull him down into you.

He’s so warm. He’s so him.

His tongue is on yours in a second, pushing and pulling with each give and take of his lips. You let him guide you, pinning him to your face with a firm hand on the back of his neck. His arms are around your waist, holding the rolls of flesh in his palms. It feels so good. He feels so fucking good.

You want him to know that. You need him to know how much you love to look at him, to touch him, to feel him. The coolness of your skin as the night air dries droplets of spray is the most beautiful contrast to the heat of his hands, his mouth, his breath. It’s intoxicating and you will never get enough of this. If his body wasn’t so irresistible to touch, you’d pull back and just stare at him. All kriffing night.

Instead, though, you let your mouth fall from his in favour of trailing your lips across his jaw. They leave a wet trail in their wake. He doesn’t seem to care; in fact, his hands tighten against you when you start to suck at his neck. You use your teeth, pulling his skin into your mouth so hard that you hear it spluttering against the suction of your lips. You want to mark him, too; make sure his skin never forgets the way you feel.

“Cyare…” he groans as you move your face to his chest. Your nose nuzzles into the hair there, one of your hands sliding down to play with his nipple. You suck at the other one and he’s got one hand on your breast now, cupping it in his palm and squeezing with each pull of your mouth. He tips his head back and if you weren’t so occupied with getting his nipple as hard as it can possibly get, you’d lean up and kiss the expanse of that gorgeous neck and mark it up until there were no doubts that he’s yours.

By the time your lips are at his belly button, the water is starting to tease at your chin. You’d go lower if you could.

You tell him as much.

To which he responds with a desperate groan and a hand on the back of your head, bringing you back up to his face. “I need you,” he whimpers, pressing his nose into yours, “I need you, Mesh’la. Please.”

You stroke his face. “You have me. Any way you want me.”

A moan slips past his lips. He falls into you, kisses you slowly for a minute.

“You wanna take me against this rock wall?” You ask him, letting your nails run over the side of his neck, just hard enough to pull a gasp into his throat. “Or take me back to land, fuck me on the shore?”

“Kriff, Mesh’la,” he’s falling apart, his voice just a broken whimper as his hands find purchase on your ribs again and squeeze at the plump flesh. “Whatever you want. I’ll—do whatever you want.”

You smile softly. “As much as I’d love for you to take me here in the lake, the footing isn’t exactly stable, and you know I like it rough…”

Another moan. Good.

You press kisses to his neck, catch the fall of his Adam’s apple as he swallows heavily. “Let’s go back to shore.”

Desperate, he nods, and leads you under the waterfall. “You okay? Does it hurt?” He asks.

You shake your head and smile at him, always appreciating that your comfort comes first, even when he’s this desperate to fuck you. “No. I’m good.”

He practically throws himself onto the grass bank when you’re back on land, pulling you down on top of him. You can’t help but giggle at his eagerness. It’s so fucking cute and really kriffing hot that he wants you so badly he’ll just collapse on the riverbank, beneath the silver glow of two moons, completely bare for you and out in the open air, if it means you’ll give him what he wants.

Which you will. You always will.

You lean down over him, palms pressed to the grass on either side of his head. You’re both still wet, dripping into the ground below. Your breasts press into his chest, hair falls into his face. He pushes it out of the way and holds it there, like he doesn’t want anything getting in the way of his view of you.

“Kriff,” he curses softly. You can hear him better now you’re out of the waterfall; can hear the desperation in his voice, how even his breathing is starting to sound like a series of whines. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Look at you…”

“Look at you,” you counter with a smile, feeling your chest bloom with warmth at his compliment. “Under the moonlight like this. Kriff, Din. Don’t you look pretty?”

Breathy, he laughs. He closes his eyes for a second, shakes his head. “Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not. You do look pretty,” your fingers run through the sparse hair on his jawline. And then, it escapes you in a sigh, an expel of breath like it’s releasing some kind of something by saying it out loud, “Kriff, I love you.”

His eyes open at that. Right into yours, all glowing and watery and adoring. You could look at him like this forever. His hand strokes down your cheek. “I love you,” he tells you. Soft, shaky. Still just a hint of desperation there.

As much as you could look at him like this forever, and stay like this for just as long, there is a distinct throbbing between your legs and a wetness there that definitely did not come from the lake. You’re sure he can feel it; your core is pressed right up against his hips and you can feel his cock there, hard and wet and ready for you.

As if reading your mind, Din’s hand runs down your ribs, over the curve of your hips, then presses between your legs. He dips his fingers into your folds, separates them. “Kriff, you’re so wet already,” he says, gazing up at you as though he’s amazed by it. By you.

“You do things to me,” you tell him with a grin and a shrug, to which he laughs, tipping his head back for a second. You just watch him, warmth not only spreading between your legs but around your heart, too.

His lips kiss messily at your neck as he slips his finger inside you. It’s heavenly; a warm, slick glide of the one digit sending something hot and comforting all the way through you. Your eyes flutter closed when he slowly thrusts in and out. He’s not even trying to achieve anything; he’s just feeling you, appreciating every inch he can get his finger on.

“Din,” you say, already feeling breathless, “more. Please.”

He’s never turned you down. His thumb finds your clit, pushes back the hood and presses gently. Pleasure courses through you again, a jolt for each circle he makes around the bundle of nerves. His other finger joins the first after a moment, but you’re so kriffing ready for him that it’s not enough, you can feel his cock against the inside of your thigh and it’s so close but not close enough—

“Din, I’m ready for you. Are you ready?”

He meets your eyes. He’s looking up at you like you’re the stars in the sky. It sends a shiver down you that has nothing to do with the two fingers he’s pushing in and out of your soaking heat. He nods, then, and says, “Please. I need you. Need to be inside you.”

You nod, too, leaning down to give him a kiss. “Mind if I stay on top?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Mm. Are you gonna beg tonight?”

“If you want me to.”

“You could try it,” you say with a smirk as you slide down his body, lift yourself up on your knees above him, “See how I like it.” The ground is damp below you, grass tickling at your skin. You take his cock in your hand, and it’s still wet, but you can’t wait to make it properly wet.

Like it’s an instinct, he reaches out to take hold of your hips. He gazes up at you, and says, “Please, baby. I need to feel you.” He’s so vulnerable like this. Underneath you, naked, bathed in moonlight. He could, of course, overpower you—or anyone who got on top of him—if he wanted to. You never imagined The Mandalorian lying on his back like this for anyone; would never think that it was a place he could feel comfortable, safe. His whole life has been about fighting. About making sure he’s one step ahead.

And yet here he is, spread out before you, so open, bare underneath you, completely at your mercy. Because he wants to be. Because he trusts you.

You line him up at your entrance, but don’t slide onto him right away. You’re enjoying the desperation on his face just a little too much; the wrinkles in his forehead, his brows drawn together, bottom lip pressed under his teeth. With a grin you take a moment to admire in him in the moonlight and, with your hand wrapped around his cock, you slide him up and down through your wet folds.

The look on his face is priceless. His neck strains, he swallows so heavily you see the movement all the way through it, and a whimper comes from him, even better than the ones he’s given already.

“You look so pretty like this,” you tell him, still teasing him. You brush the head of him over your clit and, fuck,that feels good. His hot dick, already leaking and wet from your slick, rubbing over the bundle of nerves like his finger would, but different. Bigger. Rounder.

“That feel good?” Din asks, and it’s only when you hear the smirk in his voice that you realise your eyes have closed. You’re focusing on the feeling, the roundness of his head. Before you know it you’re grinding on it, desperate to feel more of it.

“Kriff,” you gasp, suddenly breathless, “that’s really fucking good.”

“Keep going, if you want.”

You could. You’d love to. The very fact that he’s offering this to you, knowing that it would only delay the part where he’s inside you and getting what he wants, turns you on even more.

But you know how desperate he is. And your heat is practically begging for him to be inside you.

“Feels good for me, too,” he tells you as if sensing your hesitation.

You smile at him. “Later,” you decide. “I want you inside me now.” With one last swipe of his head over your clit, you sigh, and then move your hips up so he’s lined up with your entrance again. Then, you sink down onto him, and kriff, it’s fucking delicious.

The stretch, his heat, the way his dick caresses your walls like they’re something precious as they pulse and throb around him.

He tips his head back and groans. His fingers tighten on your hips and you fucking love it. Love looking at him like this. Stretched-out, lit from the bright light of two moons, the jungle surrounding him and water still sheening over his chest.

You run your hands through his chest hair and sigh as heaven pulses through your core. “Feels so good,” you whisper, biting your lip, “Feels so good, Din.”

“Mm-hm,” he nods and looks back at you. “You’re so beautiful.”

Bracing yourself on his chest with your palms flat against him, you start to move. Instead of thrusting or bouncing, at first you just grind, swaying your hips in circular motions over his cock. It hits against that spot inside you with each circle, and somehow it feels like he’s going deeper than ever before, the tip of him a constant pressure against your cervix. It’s not rough like it usually is, and yet it feels just as good.

One of his hands finds your clit and works it in time with your movements. Heat is already burning inside you, starting between your legs and smouldering up into your stomach and ribcage. You’re losing yourself in your pleasure in an instant, your eyes falling shut as you work yourself on him.

Each grind lifts him in and out of you just a little, just enough for both of you to have some much-needed friction against your walls. But you’re still going round in circles, and it feels so fucking good, having him swirling inside you like this, coating every inch of you on the inside.

“Fuck,” you curse in a whisper, one hand lifting from his chest to grasp at your breast. You squeeze it, remembering how your nipple felt inside his mouth. “Fuck, Din, that’s so good.” Your eyes are closed again, head tipped back towards the sky.

“Yeah?” He says. “You look so perfect. Take what you need, Cyar’ika, you can have it.”

You’re too lost in pleasure to respond. It’s not even sparking, it’s burning, boiling, running over you in a hot wave over and over and over again. He’s so hot inside you, the contrast of his heat to the coolness of your skin just setting everything alight. The head of his cock is pushing against the highest point inside you, just like you like it, but instead of a fast, unrelenting beat, it’s stroking, so slow with each circle your hips make. His finger is still on your clit, so much slower than usual. In rhythm with your movements like he’s just going off of whatever makes you feel good.

“Kriff, Din, baby…your cock feels so good, I’ve never…it’s never been…”

“Feels good to me, too, baby,” he promises you.

When you open your eyes, he’s gazing up at you with such adoration, such universe-shattering perspective, that you could swear you see Galaxies in his eyes. Galaxies that you have yet to find, that you want to dive into and never leave.

“I love you,” you whisper, leaning down so that your damp hair falls around his face, frames him like the piece of art that he is.

His hand comes off of your hip and reaches out, stroking back a strand of hair. He rubs your cheek. His mouth is open and his breath is hot against your lips. “I love you,” he says back. His voice is raspy, low, so fucking perfect. “You look so good like this. Just using me to make yourself feel good. I’m so deep inside you, Cyar’ika, feels so good…just want to stay like this forever…”

You nod, desperate, and lean in to kiss him messily. “So deep,” you breathe into his mouth, “so fucking deep inside me, kriff, filling me up so good, Din, you just fit…”

His hand finds the back of your neck and holds you to him. The new angle brings the pleasure inside you to a new level; you’re leaning forward and down over him, and his cock is heavy, almost pulling at your walls as you continue to grind around and around and up and down. He’s pressing his thumb to your clit, his fingers closed around the flesh near your hip, holding tight. Holy kriff, it feels so fucking good, all hot and beautiful and just pleasurepleasurepleasure—

“Din,” you gasp, “gonna come…”

“Come for me, Mesh’la, please, I need it…need to feel you come around me like this, so good…”

Bracing yourself on his chest, you keep yourself at that lower angle and chase your pleasure, feeling it coiling low in your belly first but soon exploding through your entire body. It’s a flame, a roaring fire, a wave of lava through your veins.

“Ride it out, baby,” Din tells you, and you do, you ride him until the drop comes and you’re just chasing it, chasing that high, wanting it to last forever. Wanting to be here forever, in this moment, just the two of you. Beneath the moon. Din inside you, as deep as he’s ever been. So fucking good it’s like you’ve never felt it before.

“Oh, fuck, Din,” you pant as you come down, your aftershocks pulsing around his cock. You can’t even say that you came hard. Because it was the furthest thing to violence you’ve ever felt; it was soft but sudden and beautiful but terrifying. “Din, kriff, I love—I love you—”

His hips are starting to stutter. Like they want to thrust, but he’s holding himself back.

You plant your elbows on either side of his head and lean down to kiss him. “Come in me,” you tell him, “please. Use me, fuck me. You made me feel so good, want you to feel the same too.”

He strokes your cheek with his thumb. “You sure? You’re not too sensitive?”

You shake your head. “Feels so good still. Please, wanna feel you, baby.”

He nods, and starts to move. He shifts so his feet are planted firmly on the ground behind you, knees bent a little and pressing into your back. The hand on your clit moves and instead sits behind him on the floor so he can sit up and use it to prop himself there. Your body follows him, leaning back as he leans up. His breath is so hot on your face, your hair falling against his damp cheeks.

You push it away, kiss his mouth. “Fuck me, baby,” you tell him, “feels so good.”

Using his hand and both feet for leverage, he starts to thrust. Slow at first, testing the waters. His face falls in ecstasy, a broken moan leaving his lips and falling onto yours. You hold his face in both your hands, anchor him to you.

“That’s it,” you praise, “fuck me just how you want. Come for me, Din, I wanna feel you. You’re so perfect, I love you…” it feels like it’s going to be hard to ever stop saying that.

“I love you, Mesh’la,” he says, and it’s the last coherent thing he manages before he starts to thrust harder into you, finding a good rhythm. It’s not as rough as it’s been before—it would be pretty hard, in this position and out here on the wet grass—but it’s just perfect. He still hits the highest point inside of you, even guides your hips to do the circle thing again, like he knows that’s what feels good for you.

It does. Kriff, it’s just as good as it was before. The aftershocks are already turning into new desire, heat bubbling low again. You bring one of your hands from his face and press on your clit. Fuck, fuck, fuck, it’s so good.

It takes you by surprise. You gasp, pulling your head back and tipping it, granting him access to your neck; access that he makes full use of, immediately leaning in and attaching his mouth to your skin.

“Oh, fuck, Din,” you almost laugh at the feeling because it’s so unbelievably good and you’re probably going to come again and it’s so soon after the last one and you weren’t expecting it—“Fuck! Din! Baby, feels so fucking good like this…” your tits bounce against his chest, almost pressed completely into him.

He’s mouthing at your neck and his thrusts are getting faster, more urgent. “Baby…I think I’m going to…”

“Come for me,” you request to the stars. “Please, Din, come inside my pussy.”

That does it for him.

He spills inside you, his chest heaving with desperate whimpers and moans and breaths that sound like something from a different realm, panted into your neck and against your shoulder—

Then you’re coming, too, clenching around him so hard that it almost hurts. Your thighs are burning from holding yourself up, the pleasure coursing through you only adding to the strain in your muscles. But it feels so fucking good. He feels so good, chasing his orgasm for as long as he can, fucking up into you as if it’s what he was put in this Galaxy to do.

“Oh, baby…” Din says as he starts to come down. He’s kissing your neck again, all wet and messy and lazy. His hands slide up your body. Caress you like you’re something precious, a map he wishes to memorise. Eventually they settle on your back, his palms pressing into your shoulder blades.

You realise, then, that this is the first time he’s seen you while you’ve done this. Seen all of you. Nothing separating his eyes from your scars, your stretch marks, every insecurity you’ve ever had.

It feels earth-shattering and unimportant at the same time. Because it’s a big step, it’s huge, something you never thought you’d have with anyone, ever. But it’s also…right. Din isn’t looking at you or holding you any differently. He sees more of you than just that, and it doesn’t matter.

You’re breathless at the realisation. Even more so, when you realise that it actually feels really fucking good to be naked with him like this. To have nothing separating you.

Your lips meet after a moment. He kisses you so softly, so tenderly. Your hands tangle in his hair, feeling the lingering wet from the waterfall. You think about saying something, about telling him how good that was, about how much you love having him like this; you think about saying I love you one more time, just for good measure.

But the words won’t come. Instead, you just press your forehead to his, let your breaths mingle in the humid air between you. You’re both still panting. His cock is twitching inside you, probably a little overstimulated as your walls continue to pulse and beckon him further in. But he never pulls out too soon. Even if it’s too much for him.

He holds you like that, staying inside you beneath the moons, the sound of rushing water and wildlife all around you. He holds you like he knows. Like he knows how you feel, and wants you to know that he feels the same, too.

If you could, you’d stay like this forever. And yet, even a moment will do.

notes: ahhhh i'm so sorry for the long wait.

i can't believe we've only got 2 chapters left. the last 2 are some of my favourites so i'm excited for y'all to read them! thank you for being here as always, i know it's been such a long time. please do leave a comment if you can, and reblogs are always appreciated <3 love u <3

taglist:

@toobsessedsstuff @granillx @keepingitlokiii @shoe1412 @quentinor @yourunstablegf @moonknight-s-cumdump @senassn @samanthacookieone @local-fanfic-addict @your-slutty-gf @whenpugzfly @elsasshole @moony-toasts @julesjewelss36 @mxlsmith @indec1sive @lordhavemurthy

@booktvmoviefangirl @brokenghostgirl1@competitivedust@lostinsideourminds@gloryekaterina@uncle-eggy@astronymity@leithatnight@domaniquessidehoe@dancealongthelightofday-blog@loveslide@peqchsoup@jaguarthecat@starrynightsforever@djarinxore@rexamongthestars@babygirlrex0504@dindjarindude@prentissluvr@hotchie360@beskarandblasters@space-cowboy-like-me

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #my post #i only see daylight #gif cw

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c-e-d-dreamer · 4 months ago

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20 Questions for Writers tag game!

Shout-out to @foundress0fnothing for the tag!

How many works do you have on AO3? 71 total fics

What’s your total AO3 word count? 813,023 total words (this is absurdity... whomst allowed this?)

What fandoms do you write for? I used to write for the One Direction and All For The Game fandoms, but I basically only write for ACOTAR now

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? I mean technically all my top fics are One Direction ones just because it was/is such a large fandom.... So I'll call out my kid-fic one shot as my top top fic, but we'll focus on ACOTAR for the other four: Let Our Hearts, Like Doors, Open Wide (aka Nessian kid-fic); Falling For Your Fools Gold (Nessian pirates); And They Were Roommates, OMG, They Were Roommates (Nessian roommates/friends to lovers); Baby Now We Got Bad Blood (Cassian stands up to Rhys)

Do you respond to comments? I try to? I'll be honest, I am so so so bad about it! Ha ha. I often end up responding super late because I go on reply sprees on AO3. This is reminding me I need to go on a reply spree on AO3....

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Angsty ending? Me? Nah... not 'round here. I am a HEA ONLY girlie

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I would say Let Our Hearts, Like Doors, Open Wide has the happiest ending! I mean marriage? Adoption? So cute and soft and happy

Do you get hate on fics? Ha ha ha ha! Laughs in Rhysta... Literally every single time I mention Rhysta, let alone post updates to my Rhysta fic, my inbox becomes a war zone! Like excuuuuuuse ME for thinking that Nesta and Rhys should work through their hate by fucking nasty! Y'all just hate FUN!

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? (stares into the camera like I'm on the office) . . . . Anyways! Remember back in 2021? When I was but a baby in the ACOTAR fandom? And I said I would never write smut? What a time, what a time....

Do you write crossovers? Not yet, but every day I think about Nessian in the AFTG Universe/as Exy players....

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Thankfully not

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Back when I was in the One Direction fandom, some friends and I started a group fic, but we never finished it lol

What is your all-time favorite ship? Nessian my beloveds.... even what SJM did to you in ACOSF could never make me hate you

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? So last year I started a canonverse/ACOFAS fix-it fic, and I think about it all the time. I have it all plotted and so many snippets of dialogue and scenes saved in my Notes App, but other WIPs always take precedent so I never really revisit it and I really really really want to. I just need to like lock myself away for a month and focus on fics only

What are your writing strengths? Outlining and dialogue I would say? I love plotting out a fic start to finish and I feel like I can always hear character's voices in my head for dialogue

What are your writing weaknesses? Really delving into character's feelings. I feel like that's something that's always missing. That introspective POV, ya know?

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I don't speak any other languages so I myself don't do it, but I do love when other writers do "Illyrian" in fics

First fandom you wrote for? One Direction! Way back in 2012....

Favorite fic you’ve written? I'm not going to lie, this is like impossible to answer.... just because it didn't make the Top 5, and I want to call it out, I'll go with But I'm Only Looking At You. You can never go wrong with Scottish Cassian

Tagging with no pressure: @moodymelanist @kale-theteaqueen @unhealthyfanobsession @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @jsmelodies @wishcamper

#tag game

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schizosamwincester · 8 months ago

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Hello! Welcome my sideblog! If you want to see me post about not Supernatural, my main is @drowninginredink.

If you're not going to read this introduction, it/its please, yes I am actually schizophrenic, and beware, incest lies ahead. The rest is below the cut.

Fics:

You sound absurd, even if you're right - schizophrenic!Sam, sampreg, Sam & Dean, past Sam/Lucifer

The Story Doesn't Change - schizophrenic!Sam, Sam & Dean, Mystery Spot

Hold you breath, I'll hold mine too - past Sam/Jess, Sam/Dean, sampreg, miscarriage

Sissy - closeted trans woman!Dean/John

Sister - Sam finds out about trans woman!Dean (Sam & Dean)

Pretty Thing (you'll be complete) - Closeted trans woman!Dean/Post-op trans woman!Bela (smut)

Drink to Forget - AU where Sam dies in Carry On instead of Dean

I remember when your head caught flame - Sam/John, underage, first kiss

But they were fucked up in their turn - closeted trans woman!Dean & closeted trans woman!John

Take My Body - trans man!Sam/John

A disfiguring chicken pox of the soul - weirdcest, weecest, trans boy!Sam/trans girl!Dean (not that either knows it yet)

like the baptism he never had - Sam/Dean, necrophilia, piss (All Hell Breaks Loose)

Silver Linings - Sam/Dean, necrophilia, piss (yes, again. But this time it's Mystery Spot)

Like Flies from your Face - Dean & Bobby, suicidal!Dean (All Hell Breaks Loose)

Tonight I give in to the fantasy - Trans woman!Dean, sex worker!Dean

I'll use you as a warning sign - Sam/John, Dean/John, unplanned pregnancy

Webweaves:

Sober II/samjohn

An Overdue Downfall/Sam

The Sonnet-Ballad/deanjohn

Drowning in the Sound/John

Slip Slidin' Away/Sam and John

I Haven't Masturbated in Five Days for Fear of Crying/wincest

Z-E-P-H-Y-R/Sam and Dean (and the Impala)

Big Houses/wincest

And Saints/John and Mary

The Cigarette Duet/wincest

What Makes a Man?/deanjohn

Rent/wincest

The Moon Will Sing/John and Dean

less words/wincest

Bike/wincest

Big Houses/Dean

San Cristóbal/Sam

Young and Dumb/Sam (implied wincest)

Father/deanjohn

I use mostly my own screenshots for weaves, so if you ever want one for your own thing, just ask and I'll send you the original!

All the posts about my pet headcanon are tagged "#schizophrenic sam winchester." Creative, I know. The occasional solely schizophrenia related posts are tagged "#schizospec education." Queue tag is #hallqueuecinations and oh boy do I have way too much stuff queued. I do tag ships so you can filter them out if you want to, but like... I am a johndean and wincest person. If you really don't want to see that, you should just leave.

I am watching SPN for the first time and am currently on episode S4 E7. Maybe. I do forget to update this number a lot. Don't worry about spoiling me. Trust me, I've already been all over SPN tumblr. And yes, I am already headcanoning Sam as schizophrenic despite having not yet gotten to the part where he actually hallucinates. Pretty early on, I'd seen enough from the fandom to know that Sam was going to give me ~feelings~ as a schizophrenic, but Home was what sold me on it. The way he responds to the vision is exactly like my experience of delusions. It's like having blinders on. You can't think about anything else and you need to figure it all out and fix it right this minute. It's urgent and obsessive in the same way Sam was. His body language, too, was just perfect, down to just what he did with his hands. I look at Sam, especially Sam getting visions, and I see myself. So. Sam Winchester is schizophrenic. Not in some "Sam hallucinated the entire show" way (God I hate those theories) or that none of the supernatural stuff is real. Everything we see is real, but Sam's brain also pulls some shit of its own.

A very important note, given the name of my blog: schizo is a slur. I reclaim it a lot. I was diagnosed by people who want to change the definition of schizophrenia, and so for a long time, I was explicitly told not to call myself schizophrenic. That's bullshit. My symptoms aren't quite traditional, and I am at the more mild end, but as per the current DSM? I'm schizophrenic. But because for a long time I got told "you're schizo-spec, but not schizophrenic," the word I associate myself with more than anything is schizo. I try to actually write out schizophrenic when I'm on this account, but in real life, I usually don't. But if you are not anywhere on the schizophrenia spectrum, you should not say it (unless you're tagging me). I don't want my handle to give anyone the idea that you can go around calling Sam a schizo. I can. You can't.

My purpose isn't directly to educate about schizophrenia, but I know that the general cultural perception of it misses a lot, so just by shouting about how I headcanon Sam as schizophrenic, I will accidentally teach you all things. In light of that, there will be the occasional reblog of not at all SPN related awareness posts, and my asks are always open. You all have my permission to ask rude and personal questions about it that you should not ask strangers. Schizophrenia is basically a special interest of mine at this point. I am very open about stuff, not so much because of desire to educate or what have you but just because part of my schizophrenia is having very little filter. I will say that if you ask me about the delusions I've had, you're going to get an incomplete answer because going into them too much can be triggering. Everything else is on the table, though.

My banner is from this webweave (which I made).

And once again, I am very much johndean trash, with a strong love for samjohn. I do certainly partake in my fair share of wincest as well, but really, I'm here for The Dad Ships. Point is, this blog is very much not an incest-free zone. I'd say that I'm sorry, but I'm not. You're watching The Incest Show. What do you expect? If you do not like that, block me now and move on.

Fun fact: my birthday is November 5. No wonder I eventually broke down and decided I needed to see what SPN actually was.

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japanifornication · 11 months ago

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20 fic questions

i was tagged by @mutxnts thank you ash!!

1. how many works do you have on Ao3?

21, ayyy, one less than ash!!

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

189,718. this does not surprise me.

3. what fandoms do you write for?

ace attorney and very rarely ff7 and the last of us.

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

late night (257 kudos), tasting (121 kudos), finality (114 kudos), alive (91 kudos), distance (88 kudos) all of these are ace attorney, three of them are part of a series lol.

if we want to include my art that i've posted to ao3, holding would actually be in second place, with 218 kudos.

theoretically another fic should be in the top five instead but i left it out because i just don't like it and don't plan to update it again/will prob remove it at some point (it was my first in the fandom, was trying to do a case fic before realizing i am bad at them).

5. do you respond to comments?

i try to always respond but sometimes i just don't know what to say! that being said i am always open to chatting about my fics. please. please talk to me oh my god i want to talk about ace attorney.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oughhhh....... i guess no one told me it would be beautiful? it's one of my shortest fics and part of just a short series of a post-apocalypse au. it's not exactly the angstiest ending, i have another series in mind for that, but the whole fic has an undertone of angst, and series will too. i just write it in spurts when i feel the need to write something that isn't one of my WIPs.

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i think most of my fics end on a sort of higher note! my fics have strong undertones of angst but with lighter endings, but i think the winner would go to status :) because it's the happy ending to the long angsty series! and also it just makes me happy, i feel like i really stuck the landing, we get to see the boys laugh over the most absurd situation and it makes me laugh too.

8. do you get hate on fics?

i've never gotten hate on a fic but shortly after i posted fic that met this description in the tags once, someone i follow made a post making fun of the idea that edgeworth would ever be a sexy dom. listen we are all playing in our own sandboxes.

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

we all know me, come on now. i write trans phoenix getting railed in all configurations smut. every e-rated fic has at least one creampie. we know this.

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

i don't, but i do have one in mind. i've been planning a severance ace attorney fic for a long time.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

kind of? tybalt wrote a fic in the universe of one of my series! which kind of counts? idk! but he didn't feel like posting it so i did lol (he's co-author on it). but i do RP a lot, just none is published yet. maybe some day.

14. what’s your all time favorite ship?

of all time??????? tifa/cloud/aerith probably

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

ohhh god maybe my vampire fic, wait for the morning. i'm trying. i'm trying for the homosexuals.

16. what are your writing strengths?

i think i'm best at writing dialogue honestly, that is what i love to write the most, especially arguments. otherwise in the Real World i am very good at writing passive-aggressive but still somehow polite and professional emails to get shit done.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i have a lot of problems with just repetitive vocab.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i have a lot of feelings on this i can't exactly elucidate well. i only speak english fluently. i have a very beginner's knowledge in french. i'm also indigenous, but i don't speak the language of my people, which despite being one of the largest indigenous speech communities in the US, still only has around 2,000 native speakers.

so... i have a lot of feelings about language that take up a lot of space in my chest. but i just am kind of stuck writing in english. if i need to write dialogue in another language, i try to source from friends who speak the language first, then elsewhere on the internet if i don't know anyone directly who speaks it (e.g. asking in a public discord or reddit or somewhere), and use online translation tools as a last resort.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

theoretically it was accidentally tomb raider when i was in 3rd grade but i didn't know that's what i was doing at the time. intentionally, the first fic i ever wrote fanfic for was ff7.

20. favorite fic you’ve written?

i really and truly cannot choose here. it's like picking your favorite child. for the writing skills alone i have to pick wait for the morning (unfinished, i'm sorry). clarity is another one i think shows off some writing skills, idk, i just like it! for the characterization, something about decadence really floats my boat. and for the one that really earns its e-rating, it's tasting (especially chapter 3), my magnum opus of smut.

i am tagging.... who am i tagging. i hate tagging ppl bc i get sooooo anxious that ppl will be annoyed but i am going to tag @sandboxer @m-aximumjoy @samioli if you want to do it, and i have forgotten everyone else's tumblr urls in this exact moment it's like the men in black just memory-wiped me

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cursedalthoughts · 1 year ago

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PR7 Predictions - Sardegna Empire (1st take)

"Wow, isn't it a bit too early to do Priority Research 7 predictions?"

Yes, yes it is. Hence why this is my 1st take/iteration on it. Maybe in a few months from now - around April or May of 2024 - I make an updated post on this.

However, Wargaming loves giving weird fucked up ships that never existed to Italy, and it is my duty to fantasize about their shipgirl forms and tell you all about it. Like the other times, these are all the possible ships that could be added as a research option in PR7. None of them are more likely than any other in my opinion, although I do have my biases.

Venezia

Let's begin strong. Venezia is by far the strongest heavy cruiser in terms of broadside throweight - that is, the amount of shells she can ditch out in one salvo. 15 203mm guns in triple turrets, guns that can shoot semi-armor piercing shells which are extremely funny against destroyers and cruisers. Venezia also has, like most Italian cruisers, a crawling smoke screen that follows the ship even at maximum speed (a thing - speed - she has plenty of), meaning she can remain stealthy even in open waters. She's very funny imho. Potential DR.

Napoli

I said we would begin strong. Napoli, especially after the recent commander skill rework, is an absolute menace. Her main guns are strong but not the main focus of the ship (3 triple 254mm turrets, so 9 guns), as she doesn't have access to SAP; only HE and AP. Her torpedoes are good but not the main focus either. Instead, the main thing about this ship is her secondary guns. Napoli has a total of four 152mm triple gun turrets and six 90mm dual gun turrets, with an 11km max range and absurd built-in accuracy (rivaling that of a fully built secondary-gun Ohio, one of the most accurate secondary gun battleships in the game), and they all shoot SAP.

Napoli is a dangerous ship to face, as she also has access to the standard crawling smoke screens of other Italian cruisers. She, too, would be DR.

Michelangelo (don't have her yet so have this official promotional pic)

If Napoli wasn't enough, she has a brand new, even more unique cousin at Tier 9. Michelangelo has half a kilometer less range on her secondary guns (10.5km) as she's one tier lower and isn't a German cruiser (Admiral Schröder has 12km range at the same tier lol), but that doesn't make her worse.

Her secondary guns are centerline, meaning her 3 quadruple 152mm turrets and her fuckton of 90mm dual turrets (haven't counted them) can focus on one target very efficiently. And to make the ship worse even better, she has two quadruple 320mm main battery guns in the middle of the ship, meaning they get absolutely dogshit angles at all times. And all these guns shoot SAP.

Like, legit. If you want to know how funny this ship can get, I recommend watching Potato Quality's recent video on her (only if you know anything about WoWs tho).

Ruggiero di Lauria

The final ship, Ruggiero di Lauria.

She's a battlecruiser with standard Italian BB dispersion (so, awful) and 8 457mm guns in dual turrets that can shoot SAP. Her whole deal is ignoring the angle of enemy cruisers and some battleships, as those 457mm guns do ridiculous damage against angled ships with their SAP.

Other than that, she's rather mediocre in every other regard.

#azur lane #gacha game #gacha #priority research #azurlane #world of warships #wows #sardegna empire

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bayetea · 5 months ago

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Frequently Asked Questions!

Before sending an ask, you might find some answers to your questions here!

May I use your art as a profile picture?

Yes! This is the only instance where I do not ask you to provide credit (although it is always very appreciated), because I understand that it can be awkward to add artist credits to your bios and such.

May I repost your art on my other socials?

Please do not ever repost my art anywhere - that includes Pinterest, Twitter, TikTok, et cetera. If you do, I will consider it art theft. My art already has a home, and it’s this blog!

May I use your art in a video/fanfic/et cetera with credit?

Please reach out to me on an individual basis about this!

Do you want to know when people are breaking your rules about using your art?

I think it is kind that people want to bring these things to my attention, and I am generally okay with it; however, I may not respond to every report that people send about these things, either because I am already aware of what happened, or because I have attempted to intervene before and there’s nothing more that I can do.

I follow you, but I don’t want to see X. Can you tag it for me?

I am sorry, but I just have to say no. I have tried to commit to tagging specific things for specific people in the past, but to be completely honest, it makes my tumblr experience much more stressful when I have to worry about remembering what I've agreed to tag for others. I would feel awful if I forgot something and accidentally exposed someone to something that they really don’t want to see - so as a preventative measure, I’m just going to offer a blanket statement and say that I can’t. Your decision to follow me is then at your own risk! Furthermore, as stated in my pinned, my blog is not specifically intended to be appropriate minors.

That said, I do tag commonly triggering content - s*xual assault, g*n violence, s*icide, nsf/w, etc. I also tag fandom-specific content and ships!

Why am I blocked?

I'm pretty frivolous with the block button, but I also don’t block people for no reason at all. There’s no nice way to say this, but 9 times out of 10, it’s probably because you posted/reblogged something (if not multiple things) that I found annoying at best or bigoted at worst. This can range anywhere from character hate, hot takes that I found absurd, you post positively about ships that I consider immoral/inappropriate, or some other behavior that I didn’t appreciate (the most common offenders are anti-black annabeth/leah jeffries people or artists/fancasters who whitewash poc characters). I also go out of my way to block people who are closely affiliated with people that I find unpleasant - you could have been one of them. I'm not going to verify that for you, though, because I probably don't remember who you are.

Don’t take it personally - I do not know you, I did not investigate you or your blog in depth, being annoying is not a crime, etc, etc, etc. I am just a stranger on the internet; you do not need to worry about my opinion of you. Most likely, your posts showed up in my feed or in a tag one way or another, it bothered me, and I decided that I don’t want to see posts from you again. I block people liberally because I like to cultivate my tumblr experience to be as comfortable for me as possible. That said, do not ask me for an unblock.

When will you update X fanfic?

If I have not explicitly stated that it is discontinued, you can send an ask and I will try to give you a solid estimate!! But thank you for being interested in my work, it means the world <3

Do you take requests?

Unfortunately, I do not! This goes for both artwork and fanfiction - I can be pretty selfish, I only like to draw/write the things that I really want to </3

Do you take art commissions?

I am so so flattered but no, I am not even close to being as good at art as I’d like to be in order to take commissions, and even then, it’s just very hard to imagine myself taking payment for my art. It’s just a hobby for me!!

#baye.txt #faq #don't comment on this I am not going to read it

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carbonausmoth · 1 year ago

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Big new story

So I made an entire timeline and storyline and even my own original races. The least original are the catpeople. Here's a list of races and what their up to:

Spirid: Bipedal Spiders. Females are 7 feet tall, males only 3. Strongest race in terms of raw power. Lifetime 70-80 years

Axoli: Hyper intelligent axolotls. They looked through ancient human libraries after they fell and recovered almost all of their tech in only 100 years, lifetime 200-300 years. Three feet tall

Resil: Humans mixed human and lichen DNA and made a photo synthesizing humanoid. They can cross breed with humans. They are also one of the only races that can use raw, unprocessed magic energy, called Maj. Lifetime 20-40 years. Height 4 feet. Called resilient because of how notoriously hard to kill and RESILiant they are.

Armoli: Armadillo chefs. They really like making things, during times of war they make and ship absurd quality blades to other nations. If forced, they will mass produce making 10 swords a day instead of 1, but they don't like it. Otherwise, they cook. Height 5 feet, lifetime 40-50 years.

Slimes: The gods favorite creation. Sounds are an ancient lifeform, and populate every corner of the universe. Modern climes on this planet can desolve materials with ease due to gene editing. Height:cat Lifetime: don't die of old age

Felisil: Cat people. Think the kajiit from Skyrim Idk how to spell it but they act like actual cats. Like they say to trade one food for a good then they just. Keep saying its not enough. And they chase small things. Cat people. Height: 3-4 feet lifetime: 50-60 years, and the whole time they're extremely active.

Its all going to be animated by me as a series

There are a few more but that's for the next big post, like the ferrities, the gods, the Hydroslimes that breath hydrogen, and all the major events in history. Oh I almost forgot the humans

Sapiens: hate every race but their own. Some things never change. They are primitive and just now regaining agriculture. They have been provided one of the most fortune lands on the continent, known as the Sapien valley.

Oh and earth is 2\3 its original size, the moon got pulled down and turned into a ring, and the earth is the 2nd planet from the sun next to a Super earth populated by slices and alien fruits.

I got ahead of myself. If you have any ideas on what i should add, let me know. Updates soon!

#storytelling #fiction #info dump #worldbuilding #stories

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astrailes · 2 years ago

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❛ REMEMBER WHAT YOU FEEL IN THIS MOMENT [...] REACH THE END OF THE STORY IN YOUR OWN WAY.

ASTRAILES, a highly selective & private hc based blog for the female ❛ trailblazer ❜ from hoyoverse's honkai: star rail. est. april 27, 2023. written by kal, 21+. spoilers will be present on this blog.

LINKS : [ carrd (tba). ] [ memes. ] [ blogroll: multi / meliodas / kagome / makoto ]

BATTER UP !! *rules subject to get updated

01. ─ This is a mutuals exclusive, selective, and private blog. It's low activity as I have other blogs and this is a hobby, so I'll up and disappear for periods at a time. If that doesn't jive with you then this blog might not be for you. I’m multiverse, crossover, oc and au friendly! Also duplicate friendly, but I’ll reserve my right to interact or not with them. Kalapeno ( or Kal ! ), 25, she / her / them.

02. ─ Following is based on if I have interest in interacting with your interpretation of a character. I will not follow if you don’t trim your posts, lack a tagging system or are a minor. Give me at least a week to follow back as I have a life outside of tumblr, this isn’t my main blog, and I’m doing this as a hobby. Personals are auto blocked ( if you have an rp blog send a message ahead of following please ).

03. ─ I love shipping. I’m open and tolerant with it, but this isn’t a blog for sole shipping purposes. Any ships will be based on chemistry and established properly ooc with people I get along with. Think a ship can work? Hit me up about it with a quick message. Just don’t force it and we’re cool.

04. ─ With the content of this series, things like war, drugs, death, murder, gore / violence, trauma, etc are present on this blog. I tag basic possibly triggering content with “__ tw”. Feel free to notify me about personal triggers to tag.

05. ─ No absurd drama please, and don't toss around hate. None of that shit is tolerated here. If you display racism, sexism, phobias against lgbtqa+, elitism etc, expect a block the moment I see that. Things like graphics and art are by me unless stated otherwise. I am NOT a resource blog. Don’t use anything I’ve not released to the general public without permission. If you do that’s stealing and I’m not about that. If I see blatant plagiarism off me or others, that’ll earn you a block.

#dni.#beta editor.

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korpikorppi · 2 years ago

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FANFICS! Part Three

Here's part three of the list of links to the Untamed - Mo Dao Zu Shi fanfics I've read and enjoyed. As with the previous ones, I'll be adding to this post (and reblogging this) every once in a while, and as before, I will also move the previously posted content behind a cut at every update.

Part one - Part two (the links to these can also be found in my pinned post).

And as before, a couple of warnings: I tend to like stories that are long and plotty, and there will be no modern AUs here as those do not really interest me (ok, I may be persuaded to read some good reincarnation fics, perhaps). This list is also mostly Wangxian, but some other ships make appearences occasionally.

And further note for those who venture into the explicit territory: service top Lan Wangji my beloved, but in this house we also acknowledge Bottom Lan Wangji Rights.

So, without further ado!

*updated September 7th, 2023*

A Narrow Bridge by FrameofMind and Jo Lasalle

Wangxian, background Chengqing, explicit, words: 700 193, chapters: 58/58

time travel, fix-It, alternate universe - canon divergence, slow burn, getting together, first time, pining, pining while fucking, Burial Mounds settlement days, angst with a happy ending, CQL verse, almost everybody lives/almost nobody dies, epistolary-ish, canon-ish side pairings, radishes

Once, Lan Wangji made a choice to step aside. Ten years after Wei Ying’s death, he finds a way back to choose again.

We All Have A Hunger by through_shadows_falling

Yunmeng Shuangjie, Xicheng, teen and up, words: 56 668, chapters: 25/25

POV Jiang Cheng, curses, starvation, he's cursed to not be able to eat, it's bad for a while, angst and hurt/comfort, whump, post-canon, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, Jiang Cheng needs a hug, eventual Xicheng, Yunmeng shuangjie reconciliation, happy ending, no bashing - just characters with flaws, slow burn, demisexual Jiang Cheng, healing, therapy

Jiang Cheng was dying.

The healer was just one of many who’d arrived at the same conclusion—they had no idea how to break the starvation curse ravaging his system.

At first, Jiang Cheng had been furious, but as the weeks passed, profound relief washed over him. He'd never realized how tired he was. The thought of closing his eyes to rest and never having to wake up again seemed...peaceful. A quiet end to a life of anger and bitterness and guilt.

It was more than he deserved.

Menace by MnemonicMadness

Lan Qiren & Wei Wuxian, Wangxian, teen and up, words: 7 635, chapters: 1/1

hurt/comfort, hurt Wei Wuxian, BAMF Wei Wuxian, downplaying an Injury, character who is clearly not fine insists they are fine, self-sacrificing Wei Wuxian, awkward comforter LQR, reluctant matchmaker LQR, humor, pining Wei Wuxian, good uncle Lan Qiren, LQR just wants his nephew to be happy dammit, even if that means he needs to talk some sense into a demonic cultivator, POV Lan Qiren, LQR is stressed, and also secretly a softie, post-canon

Lan Qiren would like to not be in this situation. There are too many absurdities to contend with at the same time, and Lan Qiren is determined to blame every last one of them solely on Wei Wuxian. Among aforementioned absurdities, in no particular order, are:

A loudly braying donkey.

A surprisingly even louder Lan Jingyi, wrangling said donkey while making a valiant yet futile effort to avoid swearwords – both of which Lan Qiren intends to reprimand him for as soon as his life returns to some semblance of sanity.

The entire fact that said donkey requires wrangling in the first place due to the ill-advised end-goal being to transport the animal via sword.

The fact that this means that Lan Qiren is left to wrangle the demonic-cultivating, donkey-owning, exonerated menace of the entire cultivation world in general and Lan Qiren’s existence in particular, Wei Wuxian.

Yes, this is all Wei Wuxian’s fault.

Or: Wei Wuxian is injured on a night hunt, and Lan Qiren is stuck having to deal with it.

Some good mistakes by Lise

Jiang Cheng & Lan Wangji, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Wangxian, teen and up, words: 18 348, chapters: 1/1

road trips (terrible road trips), post-canon, POV Jiang Cheng, Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng do not get along and they're not pretending they do, 'reluctant cooperation with person you don't like' is my favorite trope, rescue missions, hurt/comfort, awkward conversations, does a fic need to have a 'plot' can't it just be 'uncomfortable conversations', Yunmeng Shuangjie reconciliation, (ish they're working on it)

Wei Wuxian has been wandering alone for six months when he suddenly stops writing. This is deeply concerning to at least a few people. Jiang Cheng is not among them.

No, really, he's not.

(Or, the one where Wei Wuxian vanishes and Lan Wangji, reluctantly, asks for Jiang Cheng's help tracking him down.)

Cherry lingers on the stone by ThreePlums

Wangxian, mature, words: 26 857, chapters: 1/1

graphic depictions of violence, angst, hurt/comfort, curses, case fic, post-canon, established relationship, starvation, animal death, canon-typical violence, cannibalism, dom/sub undertones, PTSD, mild gore

Wei Wuxian plucks a steamed bun from the ceramic bowl at the center of the table. He raises an eyebrow at Lan Wangji as if to say see? I'm doing it which Lan Wangji meets with an unimpressed stare. He pouts, and finally brings the bun to his lips.

It vanishes.

***

Four cultivators enter a remote village to investigate four disappearances. A vanishing bun complicates things.

Hills and rivers are waiting by LtLj

Part 1 of Hills and rivers

Jin Ling & Wei Wuxian, Wangxian, general, words: 15 174, chapters: 2/2

CQL canon, post-canon, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff and angst, domestic fluff, domestic fluff and angst, family feels, canon-typical violence, the family that hunts demons together stays together, and doesn't murder each other, case fic, BAMF Wei Wuxian

As the two groups parted again and Jin Ling led his disciples back to pick up their packs, Jin Chan said, "So we're not going to murder him but did you consider that he might murder all of us?"

***

Word has it that the Yiling Patriarch is back up to his old tricks somewhere in the woods of Tingshan. But the truth is, it was Jin Ling's idea.

*posted July 28th, 2022*

Advisable Lan rules and other shenanigans by apathyinreverie

Wangxian, general, words: 4 253, chapters: 1/1

humor, alternate universe - canon divergence, fix-it, as in utterly unapologetic fix-it fluffiness, drunk Lan Wangji, exasperated Wei Wuxian, smitten Lan Wangji, soft Wei Wuxian, Gusu Lan Sect rules, possessive Lan Wangji, in vino veritas, drunk shenanigans, fluff

Maybe, Wei Ying thinks in exasperation, eyeing the utter chaos of the cheerfully chattering Lan contingent currently surrounding him. Maybe, that rule about no alcohol in the Cloud Recesses might just be a little more justified than I had admittedly assumed.

Or, someone spikes the Lans’ tea during that Nighthunt at Phoenix Mountain. Some truths come out.

Your Hand in Mine by cerbykerby

Wangxian, teen and up, words: 20 593, chapters: 1/1

humor, comedy, pining, cursed to hold hands, light angst, sharing a bed, first dates, embarrassment, fluff, bathing together, WWX is a menace to society, and LWJ suffers a lot, canon compliant

"Ooh, this is fascinating." Wei Wuxian lifts his hand and—Heavens help him—Lan Wangji's hand follows. Because they're stuck. They're stuck. Their fingers are interlaced, and they can't pull them apart. "You know, I wasn't expecting this, but isn't it odd? It's obviously a curse, but so far, it's not harmful."

Oh, it is harmful, Lan Wangji thinks through a spinning head as he feels Wei Wuxian twist their hands this way and that, testing the limits of the curse. It is most certainly harmful.

----------

A curse brings Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji together—literally.

(tl;dr a curse makes teen!wwx and teen!lwj hold hands. lwj, who is very much in denial about his feelings, tries his best not to panic and wwx decides that Operation: Make Lan Zhan My Best Friend is a GO. hilarity ensues)

Fanart that made me read the fic.

Out of the darkness, into the day by ilip13

Wangxian, explicit, words: 39 784, chapters: 4/4

post-canon, getting together, emotional hurt/comfort, slow burn, sharing a bed, kissing, intimacy, the slow loss of personal boundaries, bed-sharing as a form of trauma management, unreliable narrator (just a tiny bit, for flavor), healing, so much healing, all the healing, tenderness, no communication only cuddling, the cuddling IS the communication, first kiss, first time, hand jobs, anal sex

Wei Wuxian laughs again. "Lan Zhan. Lan Wangji. Hanguang-jun. What an honor it is, to be graced by your presence today. Have you come to take me back to the Cloud Recesses with you?"

He doesn’t say, please take me back. Doesn’t say, sometimes I wish you’d taken me back with you all those years ago.

But Lan Zhan shakes his head, small and deliberate, the tiniest, most devastating shift in the world. Wei Wuxian exhales audibly.

"Wei Ying. I have come to ask you to take me away with you."

Three years ago, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian saved the world. Now the world has moved on and they are left to pick themselves up and start anew. It takes them a while to figure it out. (A post-canon CQL getting together story.)

Sweet chaos by eachandeverydimension

Wangxian, Yunmeng siblings, general, words: 86 031, chapters: 17/17

alternate universe - arranged marriage, fluff, romance, light angst, canon-typical violence, falling in love, alternate universe - different first meeting, Qingheng-jun's A+ parenting, night hunts, Chinese language, good sibling Lan Huan, good sibling Jiang Yanli, POV Lan Wangji, getting together, love confessions, first kiss, Chinese culture, slow burn, alternate universe - no homophobia

Ever since you entered, my life, my dreams, my future, everything has changed.

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian get betrothed at the age of fourteen, and it is decided that Lan Wangji will spend a year’s time in Yunmeng to get to know his fiancé. It is a difficult time for Lan Wangji, who is used to the regimented lifestyle of the Cloud Recesses. He meets Wei Wuxian, who grabs him by the wrist to drag him to fun places, or to row boats down the lazy summer river, or to shoot kites. He grows closer to Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli, and learns of their charms.

Most of all, he learns about Wei Wuxian, who is thoughtful and bright and nothing like anyone else Lan Wangji has ever met before. He has a brilliant mind and a smile that rivals the sun, and Lan Wangji falls in love with him gradually, over bowls of too-spicy soup and lotus seeds.

Or, the one where Lan Wangji goes to Lotus Pier when he is fourteen in order to get to know his betrothed, Wei Wuxian.

The most dangerous thing is to love by KatAnni

Wangxian, Yunmeng siblings, mature (explicit), words: 113 269, chapters: 20/20

golden core reveal, fix-it, everybody lives, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, alternate universe - canon divergence, Sunshot Campaign, let WWX be loved 2k21, Yunmeng siblings, hurt!Wei Wuxian, found family, implied/referenced torture, POV multiple, implied/referenced cannibalism, panic attacks, post-traumatic stress disorder - PTSD, medical procedures, fainting, major character injury, blood and injury, graphic depictions of violence, asexual Jiang Cheng, homophobia doesn't exist here, marriage proposal, marriage, wedding night, anal sex, oral sex, only a little in the last chapter though, this is mainly plot driven, whump

After returning from the burial mounds and while being hugged by Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian suddenly collapses. Instead of having a tense confrontation with Lan Wangji, the direction of this meeting now goes down a very different route.

In which Wei Wuxian gets the love and care he deserves and the war goes differently because of it. Canon divergence after Wen Zhuliu's death. Canon-typical violence, implied severe bodily harm / torture. Found Family and Yunmeng Sibling shenanigans. Of course there's also Wangxian.

Teach Me The Ways by likeafox

Wangxian, explicit, words: 58 307, chapters: 4/4

alternate universe - canon divergence, the porn Is the plot, lots of banging in here folks [slaps side of fic], this baby can hold so much weird sex stuff in it, but also many many feelings

"I do not wish to leave my future spouse… dissatisfied with my intimate knowledge,” Lan Zhan says, very seriously. “I am hoping to find an instructor, to better prepare myself for such matters."

Wei Ying feels his mouth drop open. He's pretty sure the Second Jade of Lan just told him he's a virgin who wants to learn how to do sex good.

Rogue Cultivator Wei Wuxian is the stuff of local legends. Some of those legends are even true! The ones about his tremendous experience in bed, on the other hand, are not so true. Which becomes a problem when Lan Wangji, on the verge of an arranged marriage and worried he won’t know how to please his future spouse, enlists Wei Ying's help to teach him the art of love-making. Wei Ying's great at improvisation, though, and is pretty sure he's got this sex mentor thing under control. What could possibly go wrong?

The One-Body Problem by metisket

Wangxian, Lan Jingyi, teen and up, words: 28 689, chapters: 2/2

fun times with possession, wei wuxian has done a lot of terrible things but surely he doesn't deserve this, Lan Xichen is just a ball of stress wrapped in attractive robes, is it more possession or - freeform cohabitation, jury's still out, in the sense that Sizhui is the jury, and he's laughing too hard to decide, warnings for Wei Wuxian's mental state in general (he thinks he's fine obviously)

The good news is that Lan Jingyi has found a mentor, friend, and constant companion through the difficulties in life.

The bad news is that that’s because he’s been accidentally possessed by the Yiling Patriarch.

Obedient and Bellicose by thunderwear

Wangxian, teen and up, words: 19 953, chapters: 1/1

alternate universe - canon divergence, fix-it, cursed!LWJ, angst with a happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, good brother Lan Xichen, Lan Qiren loves his nephews you cant change my mind, Lan Wangji crying, protective Lan Xichen, pining, first kiss, love confessions, brief depictions of violence, meaning at least one of the people you really want to get stabbed does in fact get stabbed

It took Lan Wangji a long time to realize he was cursed. Too long, really. Anyone else would have noticed so much sooner. The problem was, he liked following the rules.

Important distinctions by nagi_blue

The Juniors, background relationships, general, words: 5 395, chapters: 1/1

fluff and crack

Father arched an eyebrow and lifted his chin.

Jingyi said, “Hanguang-jun would like to respectfully state that he thinks you are a punk-ass bitch.”

“Lan Jingyi!” another Lan disciple hissed, horrified.

“He said it with his eyes,” Jingyi protested. “It’s Expression 321.”

Sizhui fished the book out of his qiankun pouch and flipped through it.

One of the Ouyang junior disciples sidled over to him and peered over his shoulder. “There really is a book.”

#mdzs fanfic #cql fanfic #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #wangxian fanfic #theuntameddaily #resources #mine #the reblogs of this post are always tagged as #update reblog!

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bistevethor · 3 years ago

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Steve Rogers Fanfiction Recommendations

Happy birthday, Steve!

I know that there are some (a lot?) of steve fans who sometimes struggle to find fics focused on him, so I am here now putting a list of Steve fics. I was going to fics that I haven't seen recommended a lot and most of the ones on this post have less than 200 kudos only, but I end up putting everything (it's probably easier to put my bookmarks as public but well...). It's a massive list (over 100 fics?), so it's will be separated into several posts/reblogs.

Not all of them are from Steve's POV or even have him as the main 'main' character, but rest assured he played an important role and is featured heavily. Lots of these are friendship-focused but I categorized them. The shippy ones are mostly samsteve, thundershield, and some rare pairings because I don't venture to other ships a lot and when I did it's to the rare ones instead lol. Hopefully, any of you can find some gems from this list and these are as enjoyable or as good as I remembered. I'll continue to update it, hopefully, every time I find new ones.

Fics are under read more.

General

The Rocket's Red Glare

Steve was born on the Fourth of July (no joke), so a party is in order! Unfortunately, PTSD decides to rear its ugly head. Fortunately, Steve's got an entire team at his back to help him through it. And screaming goats.

an entry in the scrapbook of absurdity

In which Steve turns into a baby and bites people.

Baby Steve Adventures

Captain America gets hit by a spell during a battle. The rest of the Avengers look after him.

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't)

"Dragr," Thor called them. "Demons" Clint had said. "Thieves" is what Steve labels them as. AKA, the one where Steve is captured by creatures that feed off of happy memories, and the team is left to pick up the pieces. Post-Avengers.

In Search of (Bucky, Family, Home)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

A week following the events of CATWS, Steve recruits Natasha and Sam to help find Bucky.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to recap again? You were shot three times, beaten near to death by an enhanced super soldier with a metal arm and then almost drowned. Yeah, your ass is going to need a few more days of healing time.”

The Truth When Captains Meet

Steve Rogers wakes up on an alien’s space ship being carried bridal style by Carol Danvers. As far as first meetings go, it’s memorable.

Irish Coffee

Pairings: Jessica Jones & Steve Rogers

Jessica runs into an incognito Cap at a cafe. They form an unlikely friendship of sorts.

The Lifetimes of Steve Rogers (Series)

What happens when Steve Rogers steps onto the quantum platform to return the Stones? Where does he go? What challenges does he find? Who does he meet? How many lifetimes can one man have?

Fifty-Two Pickup

Less than a week after the fall of the Triskelion, Steve Rogers is released from the hospital. Although his physical wounds are almost fully healed, other injuries need a bit more time, and some help from friends.

little kids get big so fast

Steve ends up having to take care of the deaged Defenders.

Grampa Steve's Bedtime Stories

If Mommy was away for work, then Morgan’s Grampa Steve came over to stay with her. He’d tuck her in, let her give Mommy a kiss on video chat, then hand her the picture of Daddy for his kiss. Once Daddy’s picture was back on the bookshelf, Grampa Steve would turn off the bedside lamp so that Miss Friday could cover the ceiling with stars, and ask Morgan what story she wanted to hear.

“Captain Steve, Grampa! Tell me Captain Steve!”

Grampa Steve sometimes read to her from books and other times watched a movie with her, but her favorite by far was when he told her Captain Steve’s Adventures Through the Multiverse.

On Camping Trips

Sam is more Hermione than Natasha is, and Steve doesn't want to be Harry.

Powerful

Steve loses the advantages of the super-soldier serum. This is not a tragedy.

His Dream

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As if on cue, Steve cut him off with a loud sneeze.

"Yeah. Like that." Sam nodded. "And please sneeze into your elbow next time, dude. You could've just started an epidemic."

"Sorry. Allergies." Steve excused, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know it's allergies?" Sam asked, and Steve sighed, putting the ingredients together and solving the mystery of what the gas had actually done.

The answer wasn't ideal. "It feels like the seasonal allergies I had before. Before the serum- and I haven't had them since the serum."

Realization clicked in Sam's head.

"The gas de-serumed you."

Steve swallowed and nodded reluctantly.

OR: Steve gets temporarily de-serumed, with his height and stature staying the same but his immune system being as bad as it was before, and has to stay in the hospital to prevent a severe allergic reaction or illness. Sam stays with him the whole time, making sure he's not alone.

A Strange Encounter

Things have gone awry and Strange is injured. With no other options, he's called for assistance from Captain America and his team.

even if we're apart, i'll always be with you

Steve finds a dirty toy bear at an abandoned gas station, on the way back from a school trip. He brings him home.

As Long as You’re Not Tired Yet of Talking

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

When Steve Rogers tells her, “Don’t be a stranger,” as they’re all going their own ways after New York, it makes her want to laugh.

Draw/Breath

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Natasha like knowing what makes people tick. She likes knowing things, about her teammates and her coworkers and herself. Oddly enough, sometimes other people like knowing her too.

AKA: Natasha wants to know why Steve isn’t drawing anymore, and takes the long way round to get her answer. Because why not.

With Magic We Do Fly

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

In Civil War we see Wanda fling Steve into the air with her magic. They must have practiced that, right?

Que Wanda throwing Steve against a wall. Many times.

Just Like We Practiced

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

Steve had said, in the movie when he asked Wanda to lift him into the building, "Just like we practiced." But just how did they come up with the idea of her lifting people with her powers, and putting them up somewhere like an escalator? Perhaps it was because Wanda accidentally sent a certain tall, blond Avenger face-first into the floor once and he decided he would help her learn to utilize this as a confidence building exercise. Natasha keeps an eye, Thor and Sam help build the training grounds, and Wanda has found her new home. Takes place between AGE OF ULTRON and CIVIL WAR.

Black and White but Red and Blue

They're watching black and white film reels, but Steve sees them in colour.

"My shield may be black and white but it was red and blue. Just like the blue sky under which red blood was spilled. Like Bucky's blue eyes and Peggy's red lips..."

The Road Warriors

Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff

It wasn't pretty, but somehow the four of them managed to make it through two years on the run.

We'll Fix It

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Steve has a hard time after his battle with The Winter Soldier and isn't sure what to do with himself. After not seeing him for a week, Natasha finally shows up to his apartment unannounced to figure out how they can get back to work. There is some crying involved.

From Here On Out

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

The Accords, the search for Bucky, the fight at the airport ... In a world where nothing will ever be the same, sometimes the road to rebuilding trust and friendship is a little rockier than it should be.

AKA, the story of Steve & Natasha and how they got to where they are.

Set post-Civil War but pre-Infinity War.

I have this breath and I hold it tight

Parings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Vision

Steve finally goes to Wanda’s tiny room and taps on the doorframe, although it’s hardly necessary, with the slightly warped floorboards creaking under his feet. “Hey,” he says. “Got a minute?”

Wanda's been a little withdrawn since Steve broke everyone out of the Raft. She's had a lot to think about.

to you.

Pairings: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff & Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Tony Stark

It's Wanda's birthday today. She's not sure how to feel.

New Love

Pairings: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Steve Rogers

Near the end of World War II, Diana Prince finds herself attempting to reconnect to her long-gone, beloved Steve Trevor. However, she comes across Steve Rogers instead.

Sharing Life (And Canned Green Beans)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

It’s Thanksgiving, and Steve is hiding in the second living room on the 8th floor of the penthouse apartments with a can of green beans.

I'm Fine

Steve slowly began to realize that the problem with being a national icon, a hero, and a role model, is that somehow, he became more than human. He become a symbol, not a person. So when he becomes increasingly unhappy, deeply depressed, and utterly adrift in a world where he doesn't belong, the loneliness and isolation are unbearable. How could anyone believe that an iconic hero like himself was really just an ordinary kid from Brooklyn, dying inside because everything he'd gained still wasn't enough to replace everything he'd lost? How could he possibly bring himself to bleed on the ones he loves? So he tells himself the same lie over and over, hoping one day, he'll believe it.

dogpile

"My dog ate my mission report" An injured Steve remembers something he has to do. Unabashed Steve and dogs fluff. "Didn't peg you for a pet guy." "Allergies."

Alone In This World (Together)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

“We’re fugitives,” Steve said finally. “It might never get better.”

“The world’s always going to need saving," Sam replied. "We’re still Avengers. No one can take that away from us.” Then, like they hadn't been having an entire conversation before, “So when do we leave?”

“Once night falls.”

Do we have any idea where she is?”

“No.” Steve took a sip of his coffee. “But I know where she’ll be.”

it gets the worst at night

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Here's how it goes: Natasha sometimes shares a bed with Steve. It's not what it sounds like.

(In which there are Colombian drug lords, awkward boners, cuddly super-soldiers and the Avengers are all giant dorks.)

Shelter

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Sam and Steve, right after the fall of SHIELD.

Princely Bickering

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Jane Foster, Steve Rogers & Thor

Steve allows Sam to lean up and inspect his head for bruises and blood. He then checks out Steve’s eyes. ‘Do you know where you are?’ Steve rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t be an ass, Cap, apparently you can break.’ ‘London, England, chasing apparently useless Hydra intel despite having about five hundred international arrest warrants out for us because we’re just that stupid,’ says Steve. Sam pats him - gently - on the shoulder. Life on the run isn't easy, especially not after an injury. Fortunately Steve still has a few allies left.

And The Seconds Tick Down

AU of Civil War. How the world ended in twenty steps when Steve died.

"Grant" and "Francis" Go Shopping

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve and Clint both have holiday shopping to do for their family of choice, so they make a day trip to an outlet mall, have a few heart to hearts, use some coupons, buy a bunch of presents, and eventually get through their shopping lists.

A Tune Without Words

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As he and Sam prepare to begin searching for Bucky, Steve gets various offers of help—some more unexpected than others.

Purpose

Tony Stark wins the fight in Siberia completely by accident.

Steve Rogers does not resist his arrest as he is taken to the Raft.

Sam Wilson, T'Challa, and Pepper Potts pick up the pieces.

Full of Wounds and Still Standing on my Feet

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

The five times Steve looked out for Wanda, and one time Wanda decided someone needed to look out for Steve.

Three Awakenings

The first three times that Steve Rogers woke up during his first twenty-four hours in the twenty-first century.

Making Your Own Future

Characters: Steve Rogers, Diana Prince, Steve Trevor Five times -- plus one -- that Diana Prince and Steve Rogers encountered one another.

Better Living Through Pizza

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve takes some time off from soldiering and Avengering to get his head on straight, and Clint is assigned to keep an eye on him, because apparently SHIELD believes in the blind leading the blind. Steve really needs a hobby, since modern television shows baffle him, but Clint keeps bringing him DVDs and pizza.

Five Times Clint Barton Spoke with Steve Rogers about Growing Old and the One Time He Didn't.

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

When Steve Rogers reappeared from the past as an old man, there was a lot of catching up to do. Clint Barton made sure nobody got left behind.

Hammer's Totally Heavy-Handed and Incompetent Revenge

"So, at the end of IM2, Justin Hammer swears revenge on Pepper. He waits until Tony and Rhodey are halfway across the world to launch his attack.

Unfortunately for him, thanks to SHIELD, Iron Man and War Machine aren't the only superheroes in Pepper's rolladex. Steve thinks Pepper's just swell and doesn't take too kindly to somebody trying to hurt her."

Cue badass!Steve and competent!Pepper

Fan Mail

Steve starts getting his fan mail and receives an invitation to the prom. Written for a prompt at the Avengers kink meme. It was a great prompt, and so much fun to write and get feedback for!

Prom. Steve 'Grandpa Iceberg' Rogers at a 21st-century high school prom. "This isn't happening. This whole conversation is just an elaborate practical joke. Bruce really just has orders for widgets or something."

Bruce waved the printouts at him. "Fraid not. I don't really do practical jokes. Messing with other people's moods just seems. I don't know. Karmically unwise."

Mascot

Steve runs. People see Steve run. Steve gets adopted by the neighbourhood he runs through every week day morning. He finds this confusing. Tony finds it amusing.

Locks Not Replaced

Tony angsts back at Avengers' HQ, Ross is a bully and Steve makes sure he doesn't get away with it. In other words, there is much regret, a bit on the philosophy of locks, adventure and far too many Robin Hood metaphors.

woof

For a prompt on the avengers kinkmeme: "...something different happens when Steve gets Dr Erskine's serum plus the Vita ray treatment... Steve does get taller and stronger, but when the first full moon hits, he turns into a big friendly looking dog. Yes, he's a weredog, not a werewolf."

Mission: Baby

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

The Asset finds himself in charge of the care of a small baby, but somehow he knows—he has to protect the baby from all harm, whatever the cost.

14 Tracks

Pairings: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team 14 tracks from Steve's iPod and how they got on there.

Life Will Rattle Your Bones

Pairings: Erik Lehnsherr & Steve Rogers

Captain America and the Howling Commandos find Schmidt sooner than they thought... wait, what do you mean this is a *different* Schmidt?

In war-torn Germany, the paths of Steve Rogers and Erik Lehnsherr cross, part, and cross again.

come build me up

Pairings: Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“Do you ever feel like -- like you joined up because you wanted to do good. You wanted to do the right thing but somewhere along the way, you just lost the whole fucking plot.”

“All of the time.”

Or: the one where Captain America and Agent 13 give long distance friendship a whirl.

Down in the Worn Out Place Again

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

“You don't look a day over 85, Captain,” Wanda says.

Natasha smiles, just barely, and nudges Steve with her elbow. “She makes jokes now.”

(Post AoU, stories about friendship.)

Satellites

Characters: Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Nick Fury Pairings: Natasha Romanov & Steve Rogers, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

In the immediate aftermath of SHIELD's collapse and Steve's plunge into the Potomac, Natasha considers her place in the world. Also the fact that Steve is depressing.

Timeless Classics

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Avengers Team Five An undetermined number of times (six, apparently) Steve unexpectedly got the reference (sort of), and one time everyone discovered something new together.

you just wait and see

Pairings: Rocket Raccoon & Steve Rogers

“Thor said you’re the captain.” Rogers says, his voice distant, sad smile growing into a sadder grin. “Tough job.”

The Small Hours

Pairings: Steve Rogers & T'Challa, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

"I'm not getting him back, am I." The words were flatly delivered – not a question so much as fatigued resignation. "We will do everything we can to help him," T'Challa quietly replied, but he wouldn't lie, not about this. Not to a fellow warrior he respected on and off the field of battle. "The possibility does exist, however, that the triggers are permanent."

The Man We All Remember From the Newsreels

Still getting used to the twenty-first century, Steve comforts himself with memories of long-gone friends. But Howard Stark, the man Steve remembers, is nothing like the man he sees in the newsreels.

we're all choir boys at best

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

You are totally getting laid tonight. "Please stop talking." You hijacked my brain first, this is totally not my fault.

Epistaxis

Steve doesn't worry the first time he gets a bloody nose that won't quit. But when it happens a second, third, fourth... He, and his teammates, start to get concerned.

You Close Your Eyes and the Glory Fades

His body isn’t his own, he knows that, knew before the procedure that everything would change. That was the easiest thing to wrap his head around, actually, the physical changes. He’s used to his body betraying him, so this is just another thing to learn his way around. But the colors of everything, even the sliver of blue sky he could see, craning his head at the tiny window, look different.

Looking For Answers (From The Great Beyond)

After the Battle of New York is over, and Loki and the tesseract are returned to Asgard, Steve takes a road trip across the country, and tries to figure out what he wants to do next.

Mourning the Future

Steve's ties to the past and the future are pretty tenuous, and the serum ensures he lives in an eternal present state of ever-youthful vigour. When an old war buddy gets handed his last marching orders, Steve has to wonder if everyone will eventually leave.

Riviera Life

Sam and Steve have been traversing Europe looking for Bucky. Not everyone is convinced it isn’t an open invitation road trip.

Voluntary Bros.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

"Dude, you could be twins, they tested you before they defrosted you to see if you were a clone or something, or if he was a clone," Clint said.

"I want to talk to him, I think. I mean, a girl threw her latte at me last week for not calling her back and this dude felt me up at an art gallery yesterday," Steve said.

Two Brooklynites and One Big Apple

Pairings: Miles Morales & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

“You did good out there today,” Captain America said, brushing a layer of detritus from his unfathomably broad shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Not if I see you first,” replied Miles, fingergunning with one hand as he sent a web rope fwipping off into the distance with the other, catapulting himself away at tremendous speed.

... in which two superheroes battle with bad guys, embark on community art lessons, and a friendship forms along the way.

Battle Fatigue

Steve thought he was doing okay. Things weren't going great, but they were fine, manageable even, and then suddenly they weren't.

We Become New Yorkers (or: Five Times Steve Rogers Looked For Home, and One Time Home Found Him)

New York is a million cities at the same time. This is how Steve found his.

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

In which Steve and Peter learn that the best way to get through a bad situation is together. And to avoid collapsing buildings. And that concussions are terrible, terrible things.

Leviticus 25

"You want to save Bucky Barnes? You are going to have to put your own house in order first because he is going to need a rock to cling to. You are not ready to be that rock for him. You owe it to him -- and more importantly, you owe it to yourself -- to figure things out, figure out how you can be happy in this time and place, whether or not Barnes is with you."

Strike

Sometimes the road to recovery involves bowling. Conveniently, so does the one to the Grand Canyon.

Conversation in Wakanda

“I have been told that you had the privilege to share a training session with some of our Dora Milaje,” T’Challa says. “May I ask how it went?”

“Well,” the Captain huffs. “There’s no polite way to say it: I had my ass handed to me. Repeatedly.”

He sounds and looks utterly delighted.

Contact Light

Everyone thought computers would be the thing that really blew Steve's mind about the 21st century. They were wrong. When he finds out that he missed the moon landing, it's the start of an ongoing obsession with space that maybe involves Neil deGrasse Tyson, Twitter, and Star Trek marathons.

Twenty-Two

“This is Lucky,” Clint said when a dog got between him and Natasha. Lucky’s vest was bright, like desert mornings and night explosions.

“Does he help?” Natasha asked.

Clint pressed his hands flat on the counter behind him. “He saved my life.”

Natasha looked at Steve, her expression fierce. Steve resisted the urge to yank down his sleeves. Instead, he dug his nails into the puckered skin on his forearms.

AKA An AU in which Steve is a veteran just trying to survive (or not).

Gray

Peter doesn't expect Steve to show up at his house one night when he gets home from school. He also doesn't expect to have a long conversation with him, and choose to be on his side instead.

We're Happy, Free, Confused, and Lonely at the Same Time.

"Tony isn't sure, but he *thinks* Steve Rogers is going to try and argue with him about not being a kid, while wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and plaid pyjama pants watching a Disney movie. Tony really hopes that is the case. The Captain America voice looses all affect when wrapped up in that blanket and Tony can't wait to inform him as such." - The one where Tony realises that Captain America and Steve Rogers are not the same person, and Steve is so much younger then he thought.

This Isn't A Love Song, This Isn't A Fable

Steve's not OK with people's perception of Captain America, no matter what he says or how much he pretends otherwise. It's like no one in this time period realizes that there's more to him than a spangly outfit. And yes, he's including the Avengers in that. ... or, the one where everything's all right, until it's not.

it's safe here in our new world

Post TWS. In which Natasha and Steve go shopping, have Thursday night movie nights, and learn that Natasha loves to platonically kiss Steve. Which is good, because Steve loves being platonically kissed by Natasha.

Shadowboxing

Pairings: Matt Murdock & Steve Rogers

It doesn’t matter how many times you fall – what matters most is how many times you get back up. Steve Rogers knew this lesson far too well and it was one Matt Murdock had endured all his life. With both men at their lowest, could a chance friendship bring each of them to their feet again?

Everybody Eats When They Come to My House

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“You’ll ruin your dinner,” Sam says, gesturing with Steve with his spatula.

i fear for the calendar; its days are numbered

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Before she goes off the grid, Natasha gives Steve her phone number. He’s honored that he’s the only one to be trusted with it, but quickly learns that she spends most of her free time texting him Dad jokes.

Status Quo Ante

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

A tale in which Sam suspects he should be used to this by now, for values of 'this' that involve certain folks he hangs out with and situations he finds himself in, Team Cap becomes Team Ex-Cap becomes TBD, and nobody but Clint really wants to know what happened to Scott Lang's GI Joes. (Sam Wilson from the final scene to the mid-credits scene.)

The Glass Parade

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

Steve thinks that he’s seen Natasha be at least three different people in the short time he’s known her, and he isn’t sure which one is real.

In which the most confusing part of the future is how much Steve has in common with Natasha, and the fact that she seems dead-set on being his friend.

Still Life

Steve Rogers and a very modern form of art therapy. (The one where Steve draws himself out of despair and into some notoriety when his cartoons hit the internet, but he's still not allowed to look at Tumblr without an okay from Pepper.)

Selective Service

The serum's given Steve a lot, but it hasn't taken anything away from him. Not even the things he never wanted in the first place.

I'm a Hustler, Baby

Steve Rogers has a talent for pool--and for making others believe he's terrible at it.

The Healing Properties of Felt-Tip Pens

Rapid healing has worked wonders on Steve Rogers' body, but occasionally it really screws with his head. In the aftermath of torture, Bruce Banner helps Steve to reconcile mind and body.

If I Die Before I Wake

It's his job, as their leader, to endure the sadistic focus of their captor, and that is the one thought that carries Steve through.

Even Gods Do

Captain America doesn't have a good relationship with sleep anymore. Also, he's not a toy.

Under My Skin

Written for a prompt on avengerkink: I want to see something where, for whatever reason, Steve's accelerated healing turns out to be a bad thing. Something where the faster healing is making things worse. I would prefer something other than the standard, super-healing allows for more torture without death. “He's lucky – to have the serum, to have you all.” Tony wasn't sure about that first part. When one faced death and destruction every day on the job, there were many advantages to having a healing factor...and a great many disadvantages as well.

A Glossary of the 21st Century

Pairings: pre-Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Steve's sick of not understanding what's going on, and the team are not all that helpful, so he starts keeping an illustrated notebook for further research. With the help of wiki, google and Logan he starts to settle in and find his place in the twenty-first century.

Blanket Gift Policy

“You didn’t,” Bucky said, with no real hope of being contradicted. Clint shrugged helplessly and passed him the large, soft bundle wrapped in shiny purple foil.

“Sorry.” Tony covered his eyes with one hand.

“I’m getting a migraine.”

“So,” Bruce said wearily, “counting Clint, me, Bucky, Tony, and Sam, that brings it up to five.”

“Excuse you, mine’s not a blanket,” Sam said. “Mine’s a slanket. Big difference.”

Bucky resisted the urge to throw the whole heap of parcels at Sam’s head. “Because it has sleeves? It’s still a blanket, Wilson. They’re all blankets. Even Thor’s direct-from-Asgard raven gift delivery was a cloak, which just means it’s a blanket with a strap. We all got Steve a goddamn blanket.”

One Tin Soldier

Written for a prompt at avengerkink: Because really, under any other circumstances, why would they follow him when he's some guy who's younger than the rest of them (time as a Capsicle aside), who goes around wearing that spangly outfit, who's not even used to the modern world? Why Steve Rogers, rather than a Norse god or the CEO of Stark Industries or anyone else?

“Love is for children,” she'd said, but respect knew no such bounds. The five times the Avengers accepted Steve as their leader, and the one time they followed without question.

and if there's life we'll see it

Steve is instantly taken with this idea of having the picture of the person calling you flash on your screen when they ring your cell.

Secure Your Own Oxygen Mask (Before Assisting Others)

Steve keeps going, because they need him. Being Captain America - having the serum - is a responsibility and a privilege he takes seriously, and he won't waste it by sitting around resting in the middle of a crisis. But then the work is over, and the original victims of the crisis aren't the only ones needing looking after.

Way of the Eagle

Clint introduces Steve to kung-fu movies. Things escalate quickly.

Walking Wounded

In the aftermath of the battle against the Chitauri, Steve's doing just fine. Until he's not. Fortunately, Thor is a perfect mother-hen, Tony makes decent back-up, JARVIS is a genius, and Soap Operas are life-changing. (Or, Post-Shawarma Feels.)

#steve rogers #fic rec #pro steve rogers #i guess i'll tag the ships #samsteve #thundershield

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actualbird · 3 years ago

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tot ao3 fic recs part 3: (currently) multichapter wips that have me at the edge of my seat

previous tot ao3 fic recs: part 1. part 2 (nsfw).

i was sposed to finish an update for my OWN tot multichapter wip tonight but my brain is a dumpster. to cope, i wanna show you guys some tot wips that have me on the edge of my seat

Guarded by Trifoliate-Undergrowth (Trefoil_9)

“I see him! I’m on it!” Luke yelled, then switched off his earpiece to focus on the chase. “Artem, Vyn, are you alright?” Rosa asked, and Vyn heard Artem’s voice responding simultaneously from beside him on the floor and from his earpiece. “I’m alright. The bullet went right past me, I felt it. Vyn? Vyn.” A shuffle of movement. “Dr. Richter, this is no time for games.” ---- In which Vyn nearly dies, Artem saves his life and then they both have to cope with that.

[vyn/artem, cw: blood, gun violence, injury]

this was just posted today and i am SOOOO HOOKED!!! VYN GETS SHOT!!! and godddd, Trifoliate-Undergrowth has a wonderful hold on both vyn and artem's pov. a high stress premise with spot on povs taking us through the story, this fic is DEFFO one im gonna be looking forward to more from. //rubs my grubby mitts together. vyntem? VYNTEM RIVALS TO FRIENDS TO LOVERS SPEEDRUN??? fellas, it's the good stuff here.

Endless Symphony (series) by Gloryofluv

Rosa capably understood that many things in life are in her grasp to discover. It was, after all, experiences that create the abundance of life. Justice, humbleness, and hard work. Three foundational aspects of life. However, through her own trials, (no pun intended), and unexpected events, there seemed to be another force. Enter one, Dr. Vyn Richter. From the very slanted fault of meeting in such an interesting way, he had become a staple in the circumference of her life. The oddity of his rare quality to sniff out human nature was awe-inspiring and inhuman. However, this Doctor was a man, nothing more. Rosa knows he’s extraordinary by nature, but through delicate unraveling, how far does he go to cover his deficits. Why? Why would he ever want to when the beauty isn’t in perfection or efficiency always, but sometimes in the flaws that make our hearts thrum to the same beat?

[vyn/mc, cw: violence. vyn backstory spoilers]

hey do you want a long read? well give this series a read because it's 139,651 words long. AND STILL FUCKIN GOING!!!

but god this fic has everything. vyn's past comes to bite him in the ass and we are taken through an EPIC LENGTH complicated modern royalty adventure. Gloryofluv does such a wonderful job in using the length and pacing of the story to its fullest. nothing felt rushed for me, everything just happened so frigging well. the world is fleshed out, the characters develop so well, reading this series truly feels like entering a new world with these characters we know and love. also, theres swordfighting "to the death" in this series. holy shit. if this series continues i will simply cry tears of joy

In the end, all I hope for is to be a bit of warmth for you by sure_galena

When Vyn is away on a business trip and needs help with his plants, Luke (and the rest of the NXX crew) end up signing up for more than they thought they would.

[no ship, cw: very slight violence to a monster plant]

FINALLY YESSSSS!!! TOT AO3 TAG IS GETTING WEIRD (AFFECTIONATE!!!!) I AM THRIVING. this premise was taken straight out of my dreams both in the sense that i love it and am so glad it is being written and also because it is absurd and OWNS THAT ABSURDITY. sure_galena's writing shines so brightly with succinct humor that still manages to speak volumes of sincerity. all of sure_galena's fics make me fall a little bit more in love with these characters. also this fic has vyn writing a ridic long plant care manual, showcasing just an IMPECCABLE UNDERSTANDING OF VYN'S CHARACTER KJFSBG. very very much looking forward to seeing how the nxx gang is gonna fare against a monster plant with a mouth

wait i just realized all these fics are somehow vyn centric. vyn richter is making me feel Some Kind Of Way (affectionate once more)

if you enjoy these fics, make sure to support the story with a kudos, comment, or bookmark!!!!

#tears of themis #tears of themis fanfic #vyn richter #tot vyn #i should add my fic recs to my masterlist sometime given im writing paragraphs of praise kjBJFD

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chasingpj · 3 years ago

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𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞

“Don’t be snarky with me, little girl.”

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 12,757

warnings: same old brujeria, mentions of potential death, uh, I think that's it

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story, click here

a/n: hi hi! this chapter was way overdue! I decided to just post it now because if i continue to edit this, you guys won't get it until the weekend. i hope you guys like it and that the length makes up for the month-long hiatus!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine

A sharp gasp leaves your lips as you jolt up into a seated position. Your eyes scan your surroundings as they adjust to the darkness. Echoes of water dripping in the distance fill in the stillness of the giant cavern ahead of you. You notice the high ceilings and the wall behind you, giving you the only option but to go forward. Gravel digs into your palms as you move to stand, stumbling as your weak legs find the strength to hold you up.

"What? How-?"

"Hello.” A gravelly voice calls with the appearance of a tall, thin figure near the many curved entrances around you. Your pulse thumps loud in your ears, your senses heightening with your adrenaline. What was in front of you vaguely reminded you of Jack Skellington, a black suit and all but with features that attempted to appear human but are uncanny. Its face is long and slim with wide beady bulging eyes. A smile, where the ends of its mouth hike up too high on its cheek, is plastered, quite literally across its face. As its head tilts to the side with a creaky motion, you don’t notice your mouth hanging open, unable to find the words.

This could be no one else but Insammon. Perhaps, his description in the spellbook was empty because he was too creepy to draw, or you consider that no one made it out alive to be able to.

“Why, don’t look so surprised.”

You tense up at the sound of its voice, vaguely masculine, but its gruffness leaves no room for warmth, sends a spike of chills up your spine, and you force yourself to look away from him.

“I just wanted to talk. Perhaps, we can strike a deal.”

You furrow your eyebrows, a deal? A pit in your stomach forms, having a bad feeling about this. Whatever this deal was, you were well aware that you won’t have much say in it. You open your mouth to ask what he wanted, but you’re interrupted.

“You’re probably wondering what I want from you.” The wicked, wide grin remains on his face as if it was stuck while he begins to pace back and forth from the ends of the entrance. “I will be straightforward with you since I’m quite eager to get what I want. Would you like to know what that is?”

You gawk, too distracted at the clunky way he walks to say anything. With a slow nod of your head, he halts, arms crossed over his chest, and he stands taller than before. “I want you to make me a vessel.” Your face scrunches in confusion; your mind too overwhelmed at the situation at hand. “Like a ship?” You ask, that being the first thing that came to mind. Why the hades does he need a ship?

“No, you imbecile!” He hisses, and you jump, his loud voice bouncing off the stone walls and through the empty hallways. “A body! A suit to host my spirit. I’m sick of hiding in the shadows,” he scoffs, shaking his head as his eyes look miles away. “It’s boring.” The sudden softening of his tone took you aback. Was this demon pouting? You didn’t think you’d ever see that. “Boring?” You ask cautiously, his wide grin flipped into a long frown. “Yes, boring! It makes my attack strategy so… limited!” He scoffs and rolls his eyes, which looked more like googly eyes, one eye turning in the opposite direction of the other. “I want slow-burn torture. I want to be perceived as a human, gaining the trust of you naive creatures before I attack,” he sighs, with a dreamy expression on his face.

You shake your head, his suggestion absurd. “I’m not making you a body. I-I’ve never done that before.” “Oh, but you can,” he says confidently, and he steps closer in your direction, your legs instinctively stepping back to maintain the distance. “And you will.” He declares, his eyebrow bone raising, seemingly amused at your retreat.

“You see, you and your siblings weakened me for days after casting that pathetic protection spell. And then you put those awful little sigils all over the place. I couldn’t get in anywhere! I had to stay in that forest and recollect my powers,” he proclaims like a damsel in distress. “You’re more than powerful enough to make me that body, and if you refuse, I will simply take over yours.” “But-” “Though I do prefer more of a masculine appearance,” he sighs, eyes returning to bore into yours. “I could take over your brother’s body, that is, if he survives my presence.” “What do you mean if he survives?” You ask, your heart sinking to your chest. The last thing you wanted was Atticus in trouble. If he were in this situation, you’d be freaking out for sure. You were much too protective of him, and though this situation sucks, you’d rather it be you than him. “If he survives like you are right now,” he clarifies, his eyes looking you up and down with suspicion. “It’s quite impressive. I didn’t expect your fragile human body to be able to host me, but I figured it was worth a shot if I can get what I want.” The crease between your eyebrows deepens as he continues to speak. You consider that you could have easily died if he had overtaken you, but why hadn’t you? You shake your head, pushing the thoughts to the back of your mind. You had more things to worry about right now.

“For something you deem as fragile, you seem quite determined to receive it,” you say through a clenched jaw, trying to remain unphased as he leans forward, his upper body extending like taffy. He halts once his face is inches away from yours, giving you no choice but to look into his bulging eyes as they study you.

He was trying to scare you so that the emotion could fuel his strength. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of scaring you, maintain your emotionless face but the pounding pulse from your neck gave you away.

“Don’t be snarky with me, little girl. Agree to make me a vessel, or I stay in yours. I’m willing to give up a masculine appearance if I can keep your sturdy body.” You take a deep breath, your eyes faltering away from his face as you turn to look to the side. From this close, you notice his ghastly pale skin is like leather pulled tight over the structure of his features and how his grin reveals an empty mouth. “I-” you open your mouth, but you close it. You didn’t want to give in, but what choice did you have? To overpower something like this on your own would be impossible. Besides, it’ll be even more work for Lou and Atticus. You knew if he officially took over your body, you may not survive the process of them casting him out.

Anyway, it was just a body…

You wipe your fidgeting hands on your shorts, your thoughts jumping around, trying to find a way out of this. One-half of you didn’t want to agree. How could you aid an entity like this to allow him to wreak more havoc on his victims? And then another part of you figured it wouldn’t matter to you because if you give in, he’ll leave the camp. “It’s just a body,” Insammon whispers, fueling one side of the argument. He circles you, a bitter cold nipping at your skin as he remains close. Your arms wrap around your frame, and you swallow hard. “Fine,” you utter through a clenched jaw.

“Good choice-” “BUT,” you shout, your posture straightening as you find the courage to face him. If he wants it so bad, perhaps, you could get more out of this deal than him not possessing you. “Only on the promise that you will leave camp and never bother me, my family, or any half-blood ever again.”

A chuckle leaves his lips, standing up tall as if he was mimicking you. “Whatever,” he waves his hand as he begins to pace in front of you. “After I’m human, my pool of people to torture will broaden. I’ll take your silly terms.” “Swear on the River Styx.” “Oh. I guess you’re not as dense as I thought you were. The little girl knows how to make a deal,” he mocks, throwing his head back as he lets out a laugh, the sound so fabricated to sound human to the point where it sounded robotic.

“Swear on it.” Your fist clenches on your side, annoyed at his mocking. “You have to swear to make my body first.” “I have more to lose if I don’t make you the body, so you should go first,” you remark.

The way he lowers his glare and how his eyes manically brighten told you that he was well aware of the dilemma he has put you in. “Fair enough.” He clears his throat. “I swear on the River Styx that I will leave you, your family, and any half-blood at this camp,” he whines obnoxiously in an attempt to mimic your voice, his hands thrown upon his side dramatically. “if you make me my body,” he adds quickly in his normal tone. “Your turn.”

You weren’t sure where the exit to the outside was, but you were still able to hear a roaring of thunder, binding him to his words officially. You swallow hard, a bunch of worries filling your head. You’ve never sworn on the River Styx before. What if you weren’t powerful enough to do the spell? Will you be punished for your lack of ability to fulfill the promise?

Insammon waits for you to speak your promise, his hands making a motion as if to hurry up.

“I swear on the River Styx that I will make you a body,” you mutter, cringing as the thunder rolls again. Now, failing to keep your promise is not an option for you anymore. You may be motivated by false confidence, but you decide that you can and will do the spell. You have to. Faintly, the distant chanting of Atticus and Lou Ellen rings in your head, and you groan, simultaneously crouching forward as Insammon growls.

“That stupid spell,” he snarls, his long fingers rolling into a fist. You blink erratically, your vision suddenly going blurry and your head becoming too heavy on your shoulder. As he approaches you slowly, you whimper, dropping to your hands and knees as the world feels like it's spinning

“When I leave your body, you stop them. Do you understand? If you don’t, I will repossess you,” he articulates carefully, and you can only lift your head just enough to see the fronts of his dress shoes.

The ringing drowned out his voice in your ears, and you felt nauseous as the pressure in your head felt like someone was squeezing your skull.

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” You whine, startled at the booming of his voice that sounds over the ringing in your ears with ease. “Yes,” you whisper, your arms giving out on you, and you lay on your back, eyes straight up at the blurry cave ceiling before Insammon hovers over you. The haze of your surroundings turns white, casting a halo around his face and he gives you one last empty mouthed grin. “Good. Now brace yourself, little girl. This is going to hurt.” A cackle leaves his lips before the white overtakes his face, and the ringing in your ears grows incredibly loud.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

Percy watches Atticus and Lou Ellen draw a pentagram in the middle of the cabin with salt. Their movements are hasty, words sparse as they eagerly prepare the spell to get this thing out of you. He bites on the skin of his bottom lip; the longer you remain unconscious, the tenser he and your siblings become. Percy had asked if he could help with anything, but Lou and Atticus shook their heads and insisted that he remained at your side, which didn’t make him feel partially useful. But he complied, considering it was best to stay out of the way, and though they didn’t ask him to, his shaky fingers rested gently on the side of your wrist, making sure that your pulse continued to thump against his fingertips.

A grumble from Ambrose catches his attention, and he finds himself looking back at your face. You hadn’t moved at all in the last hour or so, and you started to pale; your shallow breaths and faint pulse are the only sign of life you gave off.

“Okay, we’re ready,” Atticus gulps as he holds a spellbook open in his hand. Lou Ellen exchanges a look with Atticus, the two nodding at each other before she looks over at Percy,

“You should probably stand with us. I don’t know what its choice of departure will be.”

Percy furrowed his eyebrows, unsure what that meant, but he figured he’d find out regardless. He nods, focusing on your pulse one last time. Though shallow, your pulse remained steady. He was no doctor, but he considered that a good sign. After establishing that you were still alive, he stands up, stepping over your body and walking over to Lou and Atticus, who quickly move to stand in front of him.

“Ready?” Atticus croaks with a shaky voice, his eyes glancing over the words of the spell as Lou Ellen stands tall and nods, “Ready.”

It was quiet for a moment, Percy shifting on his feet as Atticus raised one finger at a time until he reached his third. After a deep breath, they chanted, “Exorcizamus te, immundus spiritus, malignus potestas, incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…”

As they got through the first stanza of the spell, Percy could hear the gradual loss of confidence in both Lou Ellen and Atticus’s voices. He could tell from the way her violet aura and Atticus’s blue one had flickered as it shrunk into their bodies.

He wasn’t sure how an actual exorcism worked, but if it was like the movies, he was bracing himself for some floating, a scary voice that isn’t yours to come from your mouth, and some thrashing. But none of that happened as your siblings recited the spell further; you just remained still.

Dread fills Percy’s core, and he frowns, “Come on, y/n,” he mutters to himself, eyes searching for some movement before he found it.

Your eyes flung open, wide and alert, and with a sharp gasp, your back arched as the black vapor escaped from where it had penetrated you in the chest like a thick control stream of smoke. Percy winces as a strained cry of agony leaves your lips, your eyes watering as they’re fixed right at the ceiling.

Atticus’s voice becomes strained, hand flying up to clutch his chest as his heart feels like it’s being wrung out like a towel. The pain is so intense that he can’t even imagine how much you feel, but he persists, keeping his focus on the spell.

Soon, the vapor finally leaves your body, forming the familiar figure in the corner of the room.

You sob, the burning in the chest so potent that your vision still blurred white. You turn to your side, barely able to lift your head from Ambrose's body, let alone your body.

“Stop,” you command weakly, your tears dripping on the floor as you attempt to lift your upper body. The chanting of Atticus and Lou drowns out your voice, the two more focused on casting Insammon away.

Your eyes meet Percy’s as he peers over Lou Ellen’s shoulder to look at you. He couldn’t hear what came out of your mouth, but he could tell you needed to stay something. “Guys,” he calls softly, afraid to interrupt them as the look on your face grows more panicked. He wasn’t sure if they had heard him, but if they did, they didn’t pay any mind.

You needed to get them to stop, Insammon growling even louder, and you try not to sob at the idea of doing this possession thing again. Your pulse thumped erratically in your ears, and you let out a weak breath, gathering the last bit of energy you had left. “STOP!”

Your voice bellowed louder than you had expected, effectively silencing your siblings. You had to blink a few times before you were able to stop seeing six instead of three.

“What do you mean stop?” Atticus snaps, eyebrows furrowed in confusion along with Lou. Your eyes flicker to Insammon standing in the corner of the room before returning to your siblings and Percy. “We…” your shaky arm manages to pull yourself up despite the world still fuzzy around you. “we’ve made a deal,” you croak, moving to stand up from the floor a little too fast.

As you stumble onto your feet, still pale and disoriented, Percy rushes over and grabs your arm, catching you before you tipped over. You groan as you lean your side against him, your eyes closing in hopes that when you open them, everything will be back to normal. “What?” Lou Ellen asks, quickly pulling the chair away from Percy’s desk and placing it behind your knees before you plop down into it. “What deal?” Atticus urges, refusing to sit even though his legs felt weak. You take a second to compose yourself, trying to figure out how you can explain it to them without sounding insane. Just by looking at Lou Ellen’s eager expression, you were expecting her to protest.

“He took my subconscious somewhere, and we spoke…” you say cautiously, focusing on your fiddling hands. “And?”

“He said he’d leave us alone on the agreement that I…” your voice falters, “on the agreement that I build him a body.” “WHAT?” You jump as Atticus and Lou Ellen shout at the same time. “Are you insane?” You just might be.

You snap your gaze, eyes switching between Lou and Atticus. “I had no choice! If I disagreed, he was just going to stay in mine, and… and you know what the chances of surviving an exorcism are,” you point out. Lou Ellen and Atticus freeze, their faces darkening as they run the situation at hand through their heads. Insammon hisses in the corner as if he was laughing, and you roll your eyes, glaring at him, “I’m glad you find this funny.”

“We’ve never made a body before, Y/n and… how are we going to hide that?!” Atticus points over to the amused shadow in the corner, and you frown, noticing his messy hair from running his fingers through it so much as he looks at you with wide eyes, filled with concern. “He’ll lay low in the meantime. He can’t get into any of the cabins because of the sigils. We’ll cleanse Perce’s cabin and put up the sigils on his door, so he’ll have nowhere to go but the forest,” you explain. A knot formed in your throat, neither of them looking convinced.

“In Alabaster’s black magic book, there’s a spell to make a body out of wax…” you turn around, grabbing the book from the desk. Your fingers hastily flip through your pages before landing on the instructions of the spell. You lift it, opening it wide in their direction so that they can see it for themselves. “With all of our powers together, we can do it.” Lou Ellen furrows her eyebrows, her eyes scanning over the Latin quickly. You were sure you had her convinced before she pulls away, tsking softly. “We need a body of water to host it.”

You bite your lip, turning the book to read it for yourself. “We…” your voice falters. Schist. You didn’t think that far. Where are you even going to host the body? It's not like you can grow it in the lake.

After some silence, you grow nervous under the expectant stares of your siblings, your leg bouncing as you rack your mind for possibilities. Maybe you could host it in a tub in the forest. No, that would take too long, and not only would you need the help of a Hephaestus camper, but a monster might also destroy it, or even worse, the nymphs might see it. Too many people involved. In the showers? No. Obviously not.

“The bathtub in the big house,” Percy blurts out, and you snap your gaze over to him. “That… that could work,” your face brightens, feeling a little relieved. Your excitement falters as you glance at Lou Ellen and Atticus’s knitted eyebrows and frowns. Even a groan comes from Ambrose, making you feel even more discouraged. Even your familiar is having doubts. Great.

“That could not work! It’s right in the big house! One person uses that bathroom, and we’re dead!” Lou argues, and you throw your head back and groan. You didn’t think it would be this complicated. “No one uses the bathroom upstairs,” Percy mentions, and you shift, perking up again. At least Percy seemed to be on your side. “Exactly! Everyone only uses the bathroom downstairs. Chiron doesn’t sleep in the big house, and he’s definitely not using the bathroom there, and Mr. D doesn’t use the bathroom at all. He’s a god!” “It’s in plain sight,” Atticus emphasizes, and your shoulders hunch forward, looking for a solution.

“Lou can use the mist,” you propose after some time, half expecting another argument, but as Lou Ellen halts with a half-opened mouth, you know you’ve succeeded. She shifts on her feet, looking down at the floor. “You’ve been practicing, right?” You ask though you already know the answer. She’s been reading about the mist and practicing since the beginning of the summer. Alabaster was teaching her how to hide items, starting small and gradually building her way up. The other day, as a prank to cheer you up, she hid all of Connor’s shoes, sending him into a frantic search for his shoes all morning. It was hilarious watching Connor accusing all of his siblings of taking his sneakers, resulting in them bickering back and forth about how they didn’t have his shoes. All this arguing and almost tearing half of the cabin apart looking for his shoes, just for Lou Ellen to make them reappear as if they were never tampered with. “Yeah, I mean, I can try?” Lou looks down at her feet, her tone unconfident, but you nod, having fate that she’d be able to do it. “Great!” You hop up on your feet, a little too fast for your weakened state. Atticus gives you a disapproving look, holding your arm to keep you standing. You look around at their nervous faces, but you don’t let that discourage you.

Behind Atticus, you notice the yellow hue of the sunrise beginning to seep through Percy’s blue curtains. “Lou, you have to sneak back into the cabin before anyone wakes up. Atticus and I will cleanse Percy’s cabin and put sigils on the doors. We’ll make sure he-” you point over at the expecting figure in the corner, listening attentively to your conversation. “goes into the forest. At breakfast, we’ll tell Chiron we succeeded. We can sneak into the big house after lunch. After doing the spell, Lou Ellen will use the mist to hide the body, and… everything should go smoothly,” you declare, chin high with confidence.

You give them a wide smile, satisfied even if Percy is the only one to return the smile, though it was hesitant and weak. Lou and Atticus exchange a look before Lou scoffs and shakes her head, “This is insane,” she grumbles, and you refrain from frowning. You don’t say anything, helping them gather their materials before Lou Ellen leaves. As you cleanse the cabin while Atticus carves the sigils on the doorframe outside, you look over at Percy sweeping up the salt from the floor. Your eyes unexpectedly meet his as he averts his gaze from the floor, and he frowns, “You really think everything is gonna work out?” He asks the question genuinely. He didn’t know all the ins and outs of what you had to do, and he decides that your opinion is worth more than everything he’s learned from just observing. You bite the inside of your cheek. Things should go as planned. At this point, you weren’t even worried if you three were powerful enough to cast a spell that will hold. It was getting caught that you were the most nervous about.

“Yeah, I think everything will be fine,” you smile softly, concealing the anxiety that’s festering in your core.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

The bathroom floor tile is cool under your bare thighs, contrasting the wax that is almost too warm in your hands as you carefully sculpt the figure. The upstairs bathroom of the big house is tidy and untouched, though a little dusty, which proved Percy’s claim of the bathroom being vacant.

“Broad shoulders and tall, he demanded of me,” you roll your eyes, making Atticus and Lou snicker under their breaths.

“Is he serious?” Lou asks as she kneels next to the bathtub, throwing the necessary herbs for the spell into the water. “Yeah, completely serious. He has a list of preferences, as you can see,” you point at the piece of paper laid in front of you filled with the features that he desired to have. “Tall, broad, and blonde,” you recite. “Is Johnny Bravo his inspiration?” Atticus jokes, and you giggle, shaking your head. “I don’t know, but I might make his body proportions the same," you play along, making the two of them laugh as you continue to form his legs.

“Did he ask for a…” Atticus trails off, and you look up, knowing what he had hesitated to say, and you cringe, “Ew. He didn’t, but even if he did, I’m not sculpting that.” The sounds of Lou Ellen and Atticus’ laughter make you crack a smile. It was nice that you guys can joke, easily looking past the mutual anxiety you guys held for the situation. “So he’s going to be flat like a barbie?” Lou sits on the edge of the bath, and you press your lips together and nod, “Yup.”

Atticus snorts, shaking his head as he lays out the spell books in front of you, and you pull away from the wax sculpture you’ve been working on for almost an hour now. You nod, eyes scanning to make sure you didn’t leave out the essentials. Eyes, mouth, ears, and nose? Check. Eyebrows? Check. Two arms and legs and 20 fingers in total? Check. You furrow your eyebrows and hum, “Should I give him… nipples? A belly button?” “Might as well if you aren��t giving him a, you know,” Atticus says as he flips through the book in front of him, and you giggle as Lou cringes. “Might as well,” you agree, grabbing more wax and your sculpting tools to do the last finishing touches. You sigh, your eyes scanning over it one last time before deciding you were satisfied with it, and you hope he’ll be satisfied too. You agreed to make him a body; you never said it would be a perfect one. “Okay, let’s get this thing started. The game could end any minute now."

You get up on your feet, looking over at the window on your left. You peeked through the blinds, double-checking that the camp courtyard was still empty to confirm that everyone was still in the forest playing capture the flag.

You were worried that you wouldn't be excused from the game since you've had a lot of passes this summer, but all it took was a short complaint about being tired from staying up all night and over-exhausting your powers, and you were excused. It wasn’t a complete lie, though. You were still queasy from Insammon leaving your body, and Atticus was still recovering from feeling it as well. Lou Ellen just escaped from the game to join you guys. The Hermes cabin was playing on the same side as the Ares cabin, so it’s not like she was given an important role anyway. They wouldn’t even notice she had left.

You pull away from the window, walking over to the tub, and gently placing the wax figure in the water. The three of you grab each other’s hands, exchanging looks before chanting the spell.

I invoke the power of the elements

I beg, accept our sediment

Air, Fire, Water, Earth

Bring us a great storm of mirth

Our origins; the pillars of vitality

Conjure a suit of mortality

Gift me a figure as alive as the land and sea

So mote it be

Your auras mingle around your intertwined hands, yours and Atticus’s making a cyan color as yours forms a dark brown with Lou Ellen’s. Closing your eyes, the three of you set your intentions on the spell as you chant it in unison three times. You feel that familiar tug in your gut as you channel your energy while repeating it one last time. You open your eyes the same time as Lou and Atticus, and the three of you gawk at the murky crimson of the water that was once clear. “Its blood,” you shift, letting go of their hands. “... at least we know it worked?” Atticus nods slowly, too enthralled at the water to look away. “I think it caught well,” Lou says, rubbing her sweaty palms on her jean shorts. “Everything should thicken and come together in a week, right?”

You nod, “It said it could be earlier if the spell caught on well. We might get lucky and get this over with by the weekend.” You sigh softly, hoping that you guys will get lucky this time. The burden of this promise was starting to weigh heavy on your shoulders.

The shouting of victory from campers as they return to their cabins catches your attention, and you curse under your breath. “Let’s clean up, hide this thing with the mist and go before we get caught,” you instruct, already reaching to collect your materials.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

“Do you think we should stay?”

Your eyes flutter open, your hand coming up to shield them from the bright sun hovering overhead. A sigh leaves your lips, turning your head toward Atticus, who’s laid beside you on the sand, and you notice his hopeful expression begins to falter. Last summer, he had mentioned staying all year round, but the both of you had decided otherwise.

“After everything that’s happened this summer. I just want to go home,” you admit, and Atticus frowns, considering your point. This summer was way too eventful for you, and you had found yourself missing your neighborhood and the comfort of your home and your father. The communal showers and sleeping arrangements were things you couldn’t see yourself deal with any longer than you had to.

“Yeah…” Atticus sighs, and you scan his face, feeling the disappointment radiating off of him. You mimic his sad facial expression, reaching over to push his hair out of his eyes. As much as Atticus wants to stay all year round, he wouldn’t stay if you weren’t with him. “Don’t you miss dad? You know how he’ll feel if we stayed all year,” you point out. In the many letters and care packages your father had sent you too, it was clear that he was counting down the days of your return. Without you guys, the house was empty, just him and whatever activity he chose to occupy himself with. “I do miss him! It’s just- I really don’t want to go back to school,” he groans dramatically, and you laugh, nudging the other’s shoulder. “Yeah, because our father, the professor with two Ph.D. 's, is going to let you drop out of school.” Your tone is sarcastic, and you scoff. “You’re right. There’s no point in staying. He would be bang on the borders to get us,” Atticus grunts. “He’s probably bored out of his mind. What do you think he's doing right now?" You shift on your side to face your brother, Atticus smiling as he does the same. His eyes falter to the side as he thinks about the question. After a while, he shrugs,

"Probably, reading?" You laugh, assuming the same thing before Atticus has said so. "Maybe writing another textbook? I don't know. He must be bored out of his mind."

"He for sure is. That's kinda what happens when two 13-year-olds are your only friends," you joke, and Atticus shake his head,

“Dude, Dad needs a girlfriend. He shouldn’t have to depend on us as his main source of entertainment.” A giggle bubbles in your chest, and you agree.

Your father’s life has revolved around you guys and his work for so long. He had a few fellow scholars that he went to dinner with once and a while, and he went to conventions for his specialty often, but that was the extent of his social life. You didn’t think much of it until you noticed your grandmother constantly bickering with him about finding a wife and getting married. Sometimes you wonder if he got lonely.

"We should pray to Aphrodite about that," you suggest, and Atticus gives you a wide grin.

"Good idea. We can make some offerings for her when we get home.” You nod, already devising a plan for it in your head. You don’t get to dwell on it as Atticus speaks again. “Do you think the last time he dated was when he was with mom?"

"Probably. He was in love with her.” Your smile turns sad at the reminder of your mother. She’s so fondly spoken of by your father, and it made you want to meet her even more. Their time was short, about five months, but your father had a lot of stories about her. "It's been 13 years, though; I think it's time to move on."

"Yeah…” Atticus says sadly, and you furrow your eyebrows in concern. “I would like dad to find someone. Sometimes, I-I get worried."

"Why?"

"Because what if something bad happens to us? What would he do?" Your heart sinks in your chest at his question. The possibility of you living long enough to make it past being a teenager was low, and you were well aware of that. But you refrained from thinking about what would happen to your father. You couldn’t imagine the grief he’d go through. A few times, you’ve thought about the reversed situation, and you couldn’t conceptualize how you would be able to handle that much pain.

"I don't know,” you whisper, your brother's expression filled with sorrow. “But I'm sure he's thought about it.”

When you were younger, you didn’t quite understand why your father was always so anxious. You remember the panic in his voice when you wandered to play with the neighbor’s dog down the street instead of being in the front yard where he could see you. Or the time you lost Atticus for a few seconds at the giant Toys R Us in Times Square, only to find him gawking at the massive wall of action figures at the end of the aisle.

“You guys are my gifts.” That’s what he always says with a fond smile. “And when you have a gift so precious like the two of you, you want to protect it.” You could practically feel your father’s fingers patting the top of your head affectionately and the kiss he’d press on you and Atticus’s forehead when he would tuck you guys in bed as young children.

Sometimes you wished you could go back in time and be six again. When the only thing you knew was your father's tender adoration for you and Atticus and none of this goldy parent stuff.

"It's okay, though,” you chime in as you let the memory escape you. “Everything is fine right now, so let's not worry about that, alright?" You give Atticus a soft smile, hoping to lift the mood. Atticus nods, but his expression is still sad.

“Anyways…” You clear your throat, wanting to change the topic. It wasn’t worth dwelling on the future when things were okay now. Well, kind of okay, if you excuse the promise with a demon thing and the betrayal of your siblings. You shake your head as if it would shake those thoughts away too.

“Who are you asking to the party this weekend?”

Atticus sighs, quiet for a moment as if he was debating what to say. "I want to ask Annabeth, but she's probably going to say no.”

You jerk your head back, not expecting him to want to ask her. They barely talked, at least from what you’ve seen. "Annabeth? You like her?"

"... I didn't say I like her. I just said I wanted to ask her to the party,” Atticus stammers a bit, and you squint your eyes. Now it was time for you to call him out using the advantage of feeling his emotions.

"Well, you're asking her because you like her, right?"

"Wrong," Atticus says bluntly, and you press your lips together, amused that he was trying to deny it. Even without feeling his emotions, you were sure you would be able to tell. His crush didn’t surprise you that much.

"Atticus, there's no point in hiding how you feel about her. She's so your type," you turn on your back, feeling Atticus stare at the side of your face.

"As if you know my type," he scoffs and moves to sit up, leaning back on his hands.

"I do."

"Oh, really? what is it?"

"Hermoine Granger," you answer, looking up to see his reaction. You couldn’t see his reaction as he looked out at the lake.

"What?"

"I remember very clearly you saying that if you ever met a girl or guy like Hermoine Granger, you'd want to marry them.” You move to sit up beside him, noticing how his face remains expressionless.

“You cannot tell me, Annabeth isn't exactly like her, besides the magic and the British accent.” The silence that falls between the two of you makes you smile, knowing that you left him without words.

"It doesn't matter! Either way, she's gonna say no," he says, suddenly defensive, and you laugh at his frown.

"You could try?"

"No point. I asked my pendulum if she'd go with me, and it said no. I don't need to be Apollo to know that she's definitely going to reject me," he grumbles, and you sigh, shifting as you fold your legs to cross them.

"Well… we can just hang out together?" You offer, upset that Atticus had felt discouraged. You hadn't thought about the party. It didn’t occur to you that anyone would ask you to go with them either, so you had planned just to drop by and leave early.

Atticus side-eyes you, “just because I'm not asking Annabeth doesn't mean I'm going alone.” His tone was mocking, and your jaw dropped. You can’t believe you just got rejected by your own brother.

"Wow, okay. I'll just go with Lou Ellen then," you stick your tongue out at him, and Atticus smirks,

"Can't. Cecil asked her this morning."

You slouch at the news, and a grunt leaves your lips. You had planned to go alone anyway, so you shrug. "Well then, I'll just go alone.”

"I'm sure someone will ask you. I mean, you're not ugly," Atticus says, not too convincingly, putting his arms up when you narrow your gaze at him. “Wow, thanks.” “Guys!” You glance over at the direction of the call, Lou Ellen holding her sneakers in her hands as she rushes over to you. “You wanted to check on the body today, right? We should go now. Mr. D is at the strawberry fields with Pollux and Castor, and I saw Chiron in the stables,” She whispers once she’s close enough. Right. You momentarily forgot about your last obstacle.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Your tone filled with dread as you stand up, patting the sand off your legs.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

“Gross,” Lou Ellen mutters as you close the door slowly behind you. You scrunch your face at the sight before you. The figure has fully grown, but its flesh and hair were missing in chunks.

“I mean, it’s growing…” you point out, looking off at the blue-tiled wall beside you. “Faster than we thought, too,” Atticus adds, gawking at the tub, and he walks over, grimacing at how the red water turned black and thick. “You know, I thought this wasn’t going to work, but we’re actually pulling this off,” he says proudly, and you giggle,

“Don’t speak too soon.”

It was as if the universe had heard your self-praise and decided to pull a joke on you because the moment you finished your sentence, you almost jump out of your skin as the bathroom door swings open, revealing a familiar blonde. You gasp, the three of you lunging from three different corners of the room and huddle close together to block the view of the tub.

Annabeth’s eyes fix on the three of you, not sure what she just saw in the bathtub before you three jump to stand in front of you.

“Hey,” you greet weakly, waving at her, and Annabeth furrows her eyebrows, a look of suspicion taking over her features.

“What is that?” She asks, leaning to the side to try and look past you. You lean to continue blocking her view, along with Atticus and Lou Ellen beside you.

“Nothing! We were just uh, gonna give Harvey a bath!” Atticus says, the ferret squealing on his shoulder as if he was vouching for him. Annabeth doesn’t look convinced, though, your body language telling her that you three were up to something, and she was determined to find out. She steps forward, forcibly cutting through you and Atticus, and you close your eyes in anticipation as you hear her breath get caught at the back of her throat. “What…” she trails off, not exactly sure what she was looking at. She backs away, her vision shifting from the three of you, and she shakes her head, eyes glazed over in disbelief, “CHIR-”

“SHUSH!” You leap over, covering her mouth, Annabeth’s eyes wide before they cloud over. Before she could strike you, Lou Ellen grabs her arms behind her back, binding her wrists and feet with magic while Atticus flicks his fingers to shut the door and locks it with his telekinesis. “I’m so sorry,” you apologize hastily, your hand effectively muffling her string of curses. “Incantare: Labia Sigillum,” you recite as she flails her body, trying to get out of the binds with no success.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

“We just need you to listen, okay?” You ask Annabeth as she sits on the toilet lid, glaring at you with stormy eyes. You hope she calms down after you explain everything to her. You actually liked Annabeth; she showed you around camp when you had arrived and helped you pick out your dagger. The last thing you needed was to get on her bad side. Because if you did, you knew she wouldn’t go easy on you like Percy when it came to sword fighting.

Lou paces behind you, biting on her fingernails, “We’re so dead. She’s going to tell Chiron!” Atticus shakes his head, “No, she won’t. Right?” He asks Annabeth. Her persistent glare doesn't make you feel too confident in his assumption. You did not doubt in your mind that Annabeth would go to Chiron if you didn’t have her hostage in the bathroom right now.

“Look, you remember the demon thing we had to cast out of Percy’s cabin… the demon we told Chiron that’s already gone?”

You wait for a response, but you only receive a rolling of her eyes. You take that as a yes, so you continue, “when we tried to cast it away, it possessed me and made me make a deal with him. The deal is if I make him a body, he’ll leave all of us alone; which explains that.” You point to the half wax, half-human sitting up in the tub

Annabeth hesitantly looks over at it before returning her gaze to you. A series of grunts and groans leave her throat as if she’s trying to tell you something. “If I take the spell off of you, do you promise not to call Chiron?” You ask nervously, and though Annabeth nods, you didn’t quite believe her, but you decide to undo it anyway. Maybe, being the child of the wisdom goddess, she could help you out. Perhaps, give some words of advice. “Incantare: Contrarium,” you say softly, pointing at her lips. Her dark stare remains as her lips return to normal, the three of you still as you wait for her to speak. “All of you are idiots,” she snaps after some silence. So much for wise words.

You shift on your feet, opening your mouth to say something, but she cuts you off, “Are you really going to let that thing out into the world?”

“I mean, it’s going to terrorize people regardless,” you trail off as Annabeth gives you a look, telling you you needed to consider everything you’ve been worried about. Of course, you didn’t want to let him loose with a body that opened new possibilities for him. You bite the inside of your cheek as you come to terms with your moral code that’s been bothering you for a few days now.

“I- I can’t back out now! I swore on the River Styx that I’d give him this body,” you tell Annabeth as she shakes her head, the daughter of Athena pondering for a second.

“What did you swear to exactly?”

“I swore that I’d make the body,” you say, and Annabeth squints at you.

“That’s it?”

“Yes...?” You shift under her gaze, her expression unamused and impatient.

“You didn’t promise not to destroy it,” Atticus chimes in, and Annabeth’s eyes flicker over to him.

“Oh, look. He has a brain.” Annabeth smiles sarcastically, and Atticus nods, smiling wide and proud,

“You bet, Goldilocks. I’m actually pretty smart.” The side of your mouth curls at the interaction between the two, finding it funny as Annabeth’s face drops straight.

“Mhm,” Annabeth hums slowly before returning her gaze to you. “Your brother has your solution. Destroy it.”

“But-” you halt, thinking for a second. You couldn’t destroy it now. He’s still in the borders. If he found out that you ruined his body, he’ll quickly take over your body with or without protection. “We’d have to trick him.”

Lou perks up, “we can let him take over the body when it’s ready. We’ll escort him out of camp, and the moment he walks across the border, we can attack him from the other side.”

You turn around, considering her plan, before nodding. “Yeah, yeah! Though it looks like flesh, in its core, it’s still wax. Together we could form a beam of energy hot enough to melt him.”

“And even though his body will be destroyed, he still has to keep his promise,” Atticus adds.

You exchange looks with Lou and Atticus as you smile widely. Though you still held the burden of hiding the body, you felt lighter. At least you didn’t have to keep the guilt of letting him roam free, disguised as a human.

“Congrats! Now, can you let me go?” Annabeth cuts in, and you turn around. “Oh right, but… you promise not to tell Chiron, right?”

“I won’t tell anyone about this; I promise,” Annabeth says sincerely, and you nod, not seeing any reason to make her swear on the River Styx. You undo the binding spell, Annabeth standing up the moment she was free. She sighs, looking at the three of you one last time before she opens the bathroom door.

“You know, I liked you more than your brother, but now you guys are on the same level,” she narrows her eyes at you, and you frown.

“Sorry," you giggle nervously, catching Atticus’s offended expression,

“Hey!” ☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

You look around, making sure there weren’t any wood nymphs watching you. You had seen them at the farm and in the kitchens making dinner for tonight, but you had to double-check for your peace of mind. Insammon had found a small crevice under Zeus’ fist to hang around in the meantime, and he insisted that while he waited for his body, he needed to be fed. It was like having a pet you didn’t ask for. You just hoped that the wood nymphs don’t take inventory because you’ve been taking whole chickens to Insammon almost every day.

Carefully, you approach the back of the fist, dumping raw chicken out of the plastic supermarket bag right in front of the entrance.

“There,” you grimace before Insammon’s long pale fingers with black nails appear from under the rock and snatch the meat under the stones.

“What’s the status?” He whispers.

“It’s almost done. It’s fully grown, but its flesh hasn’t covered the wax completely. It’s in patches.” The sound of gummy chewing of raw meat suddenly stops before his long face sticks out from under the rocks.

“What do you mean it’s in patches,” he snarls. “You said it would be done in four days!” “I said it might be done in four days, but it’ll most likely take a week,” you emphasize, annoyed at his impatience. “You better not be playing games with me, little girl,” he narrows his eyes at you, and your fist clenches at your side.

“Look, I don’t know what to tell you. Spells like this take time. If I could make this process faster, trust me, I would,” you roll your eyes, looking away for a second. You do a double-take as you catch Connor walking in the distance. You bite your lip, throwing the last bits of raw meat you were carrying, along with the bag at Insammon. He hisses at you as a drumstick bounces off his head, but you disregard his reaction. “Look, I have to go,” you tell him hastily. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Whatever,” Insammon growls, too hungry to argue with you, and he swiftly returns into his little cave to enjoy his lunch. You speed walk away from the rocks, not wanting Insammon to hear if Connor called your name. Once you get a good distance, you stroll through the forest as usual. Just as you expected, Connor notices you, and with a call of your name, he is already jogging in your direction.

“Hey Con,” you smile, shoving your hands in your pockets. You look down at the giant black plastic bags in his hands, and you squint. “You’re sneaking contraband into the camp?” You ask, shaking your head as if you disapproved.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. May I remind you that some of these things are for you?” He teases, pulling out one of the snacks you paid him to get for you.

“Right, I forgot about that," you admit, and Connor chuckles as you take the bag of chips from his hands and open them up.

"You know, I was gonna go look for you," he says, and you tilt your head a little to the side as you munch on the chips in your mouth.

"I'm not pulling another prank with you." You didn't take Connor admitting to looking for you as a good thing. The last thing you wanted was to be a part of his schemes.

Connor laughs, and you’re still wary as he nudges you playfully. "That's not why I was going to look for you.” You squint at him, not too convinced, but as his expression left no traces of his usually mischievous grin, you consider that it was the truth. "I was looking for you because I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to that party with me on Friday."

You freeze, surprised at his question. You didn't think you'd get asked, especially not from Connor, and you weren't exactly sure what this meant. Connor notices your confusion, and he clears his throat, feeling shy all of a sudden.

"As friends!" He suddenly adds, his hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I was going to ask someone else, but she had a date already, and Atticus mentioned you didn't have a date yet. So I thought I'd ask you…”

You nod slowly, feeling a little relieved that he had cleared that up. Connor was like a brother to you; you couldn’t see him any other way.

“But I don't want you to feel like a second choice!” He explains hastily, taking your lack of expression as if he offended you. “And you know, I don't see you like that, and we’re just friends. You're not my type… BUT that's not because you're not pretty. You're really pretty, and I'm surprised no one has asked you yet-"

"Connor, I'll go with you," you agree, amused at his rambling. You giggle at his wide eyes as he processes what you said for a moment. He huffs out shakily, cracking a smile at how nervous he suddenly was around you.

“Oh, great!” He perks up, and you reach over, pushing at his shoulder lightly.

"I know you weren't flirting, but if you got that nervous asking me to a party, you must be wreck around a girl you actually like," you tease, watching Connor’s mouth drop open at your assumption.

He scoffs, "I'm very good at flirting, but thanks for your concern.”

"If you say so," you say sarcastically, and you laugh as he jumps at the opportunity to defend himself.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

You switch the sweaty solo cup from one hand to another, sitting on the stone steps of the amphitheater. Social events like these are fun, but after a while, you become drained and eventually need some time to regroup. Ambrose’s head rests on your knee, snorting as you scratch the back of his ear.

“Hm, should we take a walk?” You ask your familiar, placing the solo cup of soda beside you, and you stand up. His wagging tail told you that he didn’t mind a walk right now, so you begin making your way to the exit. Before you leave, you look over and find Connor laughing with his brothers, teasing Travis, who’s talking to Katie Gardner.

Con mentioned that Travis had a little crush on Katie, and you can imagine that he was talking to her now under the persuasion of Connor, of course. You giggle, watching the boys laugh for a moment before turning around and walking with Ambrose.

“Should we go to the docks?” You ask Ambrose, thinking perhaps you could hang out there before you decided to call it a night. The hound beside you barks, and you take that as yes as you change your direction to the water.

Your mind wanders off to what Atticus would say if he saw you ditch the party to sit on the docks. He’d probably tell you that you’re boring.

“Would you really rather stare at water than dance or talk to people?” You could hear his voice asking. To answer that question, yeah, sometimes you would prefer to stare at water than be at a party. Though, it wasn’t like you were miserable. For the first few hours, you were hanging amongst your friends, and you danced with Connor and a few other people, but you eventually went off to sit by yourself as Connor got swept up in the festivities.

When you arrive at the water, you take off your shoes, letting your feet sink in the sand. A cool breeze hits your skin, and you smile, closing your eyes as you take a moment to enjoy it.

You had thought you were alone until you walked along the sand, looking up at seeing Percy sitting at the edge of the dock, eyes fixed at the sky. Your eyes may have lingered at the sight for too long, admiring the way the moonlight illuminates off of Percy’s skin. His lips move as if he was talking to someone, and you assume that he’s praying. You didn’t intend to get his attention, deciding you’d probably sit on the sand for a little before calling it a night. That is until Ambrose barks and rushes over to Percy.

You were just as startled as he was, smiling nervously as his gaze snaps over. As Ambrose’s tail wags erratically, you shake your head amused. Though Ambrose was hostile to Percy at first, it didn’t take long for him to warm up to him, especially after staying over in his cabin. If Ambrose could touch him, he’d probably be all over him, especially as he jumps up only for his paws to go right through Percy’s body.

“Hey, buddy,” you hear Percy say as you walk over, his eyes meeting yours once you step on the dock.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you say playfully, and Percy smiles,

“I’m starting to think you’re following me,” he jokes. Amongst your first meeting, you’ve had a couple of other run-ins with him at night on the docks. There were always coincidences. But you did find yourself hoping that you would see him there on the nights you decided to hang out there.

You giggle and shake your head, sitting beside him at the end of the dock. “You’ve caught me,” you say sarcastically, making a soft chuckle come from Percy. Leaning back on your hands, you look out at the crescent moon in the sky.

“Sorry if Ambrose interrupted anything. He was excited to see you, obviously,” you giggle as Ambrose breathes heavily, his head in between your bodies as he looks at Percy with cheerful eyes.

“It’s okay.” Percy laughs at Ambrose, finding him to be cute after looking past him resembling a baby bear at times. His eyes scan over Ambrose’s features, and he hums, “I wish I could touch him, though.”

“I mean, I could make that happen,” you mention, and Percy perks up with interest. “I just need something from your body to offer it to his soul.”

“Like a shirt?”

“More like blood or hair,” you clarify, Percy’s expression flashing with shock, which sends your chest bubbling with laughter.

“Really?” He gawks at you, not sure if you were joking or not.

“Yeah, it’s a commitment, so you should probably think about it. You shouldn’t give your blood or hair to just anyone, especially not a witch,” you joke, and he scrunches his face.

“You’re scaring me,” he says with a slight smile on his face. “Will you hex me? Make a voodoo doll?”

“Only if you give me a good enough reason to. But in the meantime, I’d just put it on Ambrose’s little altar. After I do, he’ll be able to touch you like a normal dog. It's your choice.”

“I’ll think about it, but I think petting Ambrose would be worth it.” Percy nods, watching Ambrose as the hound lays his head on your shoulder.

“The slobber is a bonus. You’d be crazy to give it up.”

Percy’s eyes glint at your sarcasm. “You’re right. You might get a piece of my hair soon, firefly.”

You smile, head tilting a little to the left as you take notice of the nickname he had given you.

“Firefly?”

“Yeah, when you do magic, you glow. It’s cool,” Percy nudges you, and you scoff. “What? Do you not like it? Are you jealous that it’s more creative than water boy,” he teases.

Your jaw drops open, eyes bright as he insults your nickname for him. His nickname was better than yours, but you couldn’t admit that out loud. “Please, I could come up with a better nickname for you if I wanted to.”

“Oh really? Then what would it be?” He challenges. You’re still for a second as you try to think of another nickname for him. Percy’s amused stare is hard to ignore, his smile so bright you swore it glowed in the moonlight. The longer you’re silent, you press your lips, refusing to give in to how contagious his smile is.

“Puddles,” you blurt out, surprised when Percy bursts into laughter.

“Where did that even come from?” He chokes out, and you shift, suddenly feeling defensive.

“Anything that has to do with water seems like an appropriate nickname for you- why are you laughing?!” Percy’s face turns pink as his laughter echoes into the distance, and you couldn’t help but join him.

“No-nothing! It was just the last thing I’d expect you to say. I thought you were going to say something like Aquaman or Captain Saltwater.” The side of your lip curls into a smirk, and you shrug,

“I mean, I could call you Captain Saltwater.”

“Call me that, and I’ll call you the necromancer,” Percy threatens playfully, and you scrunch your nose, shaking your head at the nickname.

“Fair enough, puddles,” you say, trying not to focus on the butterflies in your stomach as he nods,

“Good choice, firefly.”

“I’m glad that you’re spending time flirting with your boyfriend instead of making my body,” a voice cuts in, and you gasp, turning around and seeing Insammon standing at the beginning of the pier.

“Woah,” Percy mutters, the hair on his arms sticking up as his mind can hardly process Insammon’s exaggerated human features. Ambrose growls, his body alert, and you quickly stand up, Percy doing the same. You move in front of him, annoyed that Insammon would dare to show himself out in the open like this.

“I told you already. Spells like this take time-”

“That was two days ago. I’m bored!” He complains, his bulging eyes roll, and your fist clenches, eyes averting to make sure no one else is around. To your relief, you three were alone.

“Too bad! I need at least another day or two!”

“Two?” Insammon asks with a chuckle, but it wasn’t from amusement. His legs clank as he begins to approach you, Ambrose’s growl grows louder and more threatening. “Listen, little girl.” His tone deepens as he narrows his gaze at you. “I am not a force to be reckoned with. I want that body now or else. Should I remind you what’s at stake?” He asks, not waiting for your answer as black vapor begins to swallow him whole. You feel goosebumps rise on your skin as he surrounds his body and shrinks into a ball as it did the night you tried to cast him away.

“Protego rotundus!” You shout, everything going in slow motion as Insammon contracts in a ball of vapor and shoots himself toward you. A sinking feeling fills your gut, worrying that you had cast the spell too late but the white translucent dome forms around you and Percy fast, deflecting Insammon as it sends him flying backward. The cloud of vapor crashes back where he stood before dispersing and revealing Insammon’s true form again.

A feral snarl leaves his mouth, his eyes bulging so much out of his head that you half expected it to pop out and roll on the floor. You gulp as a shrill laugh come from his lips,

“So quick-witted. I must admit I admire it, but I’m still impatient,” Insammon growls.

“I already told you! It’s not finished!” You argue, holding the dome for as long as you could.

“Fine! Then I’ll need to quench my boredom. Should I perhaps attack one of your friends in the Amphitheater? Most of them don’t have those fancy domes,” he points out before turning around, eyes looking in the direction of the Amphitheater. “... what do you think?”

“You can’t!”

“I can’t?”

“No, you’ll break your promise,” you say, and he furrowed his eyebrows,

“I said I would leave everyone you know alone on the agreement that I get a body from you,” he explains with a clenched jaw.

“No, it was on the agreement that I make a body for you. I’ve already started making it so you’ll be pushing the terms,” you protest, and he squints at you, thinking for a second.

“It’s not completely made yet.”

“It wasn’t specified that you’d keep your promise after it was completely made. But sure, would you like to challenge the terms? You’ll probably only get thrown into Tartarus for a few thousand years.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Who knows? I may have saved you by casting this spell.”

Insammon scoffs, shifting uncomfortably as he considers your point. “Tomorrow. That’s the longest I’m willing to wait.”

“Fine. If you want to walk amongst the mortals with half a face, then who am I to argue?” You watch as his face clouds wickedly, and he points a finger at you.

“You’re pushing it, little girl,” he warns as the vapor takes over his body again, and he disappears right before your eyes.

The white dome retracts, your eyes scanning the area to see if he had left for real. “You know…” You cut through the silence that fell after his departure. “Maybe the necromancer is a good nickname for me,” you comment, looking over at a pale Percy.

“Yeah,” he chuckles nervously, still shaken from what he had seen. “Seems like they like you.”

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

“I don’t like it.”

“What do you mean, you don’t like it?!” You shout, Insammon standing in front of the tub with his arms crossed and his face contorts into a pout.

“Dude, it has everything you asked for,” Atticus argues, pointing at the body in the tub.

“I just don’t like it!”

“Well, too bad! Get into it and get out. We don’t have time for this,” Lou Ellen whispers, opening the bathroom door and peeking into the hallway to see if the lights of the big house were still turned off. The three of you cut dinner to take Insammon to the big house while everyone was in the dining pavilion. You had hoped you could get back before anyone noticed you were gone.

“I’ll trap you again to make sure I get a new one,” Insammon proclaims, pointing a finger at you.

You roll your eyes, picking up the clothes you stole from Mr. D’s room off of the counter. “We’ll wait for you outside of the door. Rinse yourself off and put this on.”

“THIS?”

You and Atticus exchange a look before you shove the outfit into Insammon’s chest. “Yes, this!” Insammon makes a sound close to a gag as he holds the outfit away from him as if it were toxic.

“A Hawaiian shirt and… KHAKIS? I’m offended that you dare demand that I put this on!”

“Well, you can change into better clothes when you’re out of here.” You give him a fake smile before grabbing Atticus’s hand. “So hurry up,” you urge before the three of you funnel out of the bathroom and close the door behind you.

Lou Ellen paces in front of the bathroom, and you bite your lip, furrowing your eyebrows at how silent it became in the bathroom. For the past 10 minutes, you heard an array of noises; the water from the shower, some bumps, and bangs as Insammon clumsily washes himself off and figures out how to put his clothes on. You tap your foot, wondering why he was so quiet, and lift your arm to knock on the door before you hear a loud groan.

“Ugh! I look like an American tourist,” he proclaims dramatically, and you roll your eyes, realizing the reason why he was so quiet was because he was checking himself out in the mirror.

“Who knew demons cared so much about self-image,” Lou Ellen grumbles as finally, after what felt like forever, Insammon opens the door, revealing himself with his new body. You preferred this appearance better than his true form.

“You do look like an American tourist,” Atticus snorts, and both you and Lou Ellen send him a glare, making him put his arms up in defense. “He said it first!”

“Just get me out of here. The faster I leave, the sooner I get better clothes. If you can even call these clothes,” he rolls his eyes and pushes past you.

Atticus slaps his hand over his mouth, and you press your lips together as you watch the other walk. The clanky walking turned into a wide step with knees too bent and feet turned out. A whimper leaves Lou Ellen’s throat as she refrains from laughing, especially as he halts at the stairs.

“How do you walk on such a thing?” He asks, pointing at the stairs, and you exchange looks with your siblings, hoping that teaching him how to get down the stairs isn’t going to take too long.

Long story short, Insammon marked a significant milestone as a human: he took his first fall. As his body plummeted down the stairs after missing a step, you, Atticus, and Lou Ellen lost your breath in silent laughter. The three of you had tears in your eyes as you attempted to conceal your laughter as a groaning Insammon clumsily got back on his feet.

“You regret being a human now?” Atticus comments as he walks down the rest of the stairs, you and Lou Ellen following close behind him.

“Shut up,” Insammon snaps. “Get me out of this glorified daycare. I’m tired of being here.”

You roll your eyes, leaning him out of the back door of the big house and making your way straight into the forest. The commute was uncomfortably quiet, the three of you not wanting to be suspicious. Even though you had discussed your plan before he had arrived, you were still nervous about it.

“So, what are your plans once you get out there?” Atticus asks, attempting to make some small talk, and Insammon hums, contemplating his choices now that he was a human.

“I will find new clothing first,” he declares, still bothered at what he was wearing. “But after that, I will find my next target,” he smiles wickedly.

“Sounds like a good time,” Atticus says, and you make eye contact with the other, immediately sensing his anxiety as it added to your own. He smiles softly, though, silently communicating to you that everything will be fine, and you hesitantly return the smile as you eventually arrive at the camp entrance.

Insammon walks across and turns around, looking at the three of you. You, Lou Ellen, and Atticus make sure to remain within the camp borders just as planned. “Well, this is where we leave you. Just keep walking straight, and you’ll reach the road,” you explain while giving him a fake smile.

“I refuse to thank you for your service since you did a horrible job. I will not miss you, nor do I care about you, so I will simply say, hmm, goodbye,” he proclaims, and you press your lips together, nodding your head, “Uh... okay.”

He gives you a satisfied look before facing the rest of the forest. Your pulse thumped loud in your ears, and you grabbed Lou Ellen and Atticus’s hand. Together, you took a deep breath, your auras seeping out of your bodies and fusing into a giant orb right in front of you. You bite your lip, getting the sphere almost as big as Insammon’s body while the other mindlessly walks into the forest, too busy making sure he doesn’t trip over the tree roots and branches. But as the orb grew and the colors swirled wildly amongst themselves, the light illuminated further and further, catching Insammon’s attention right before it was done. “What is this? What are you-?!” “NOW!” You shout, releasing the tug in your core, and with your will, you send the beam right into Insammon. He fails to lunge out of the way in time, his reflexes slow as he’s still unadjusted to his new body. A scream of agony and anger, mostly anger, cuts through the stillness of the night as the heat of your orb engulfs him, melting right into the wax, and soon he topples over, his screams ceasing as the orb of light fades. It was quiet for a moment; the only sound you could hear was your pulse, and you opened your mouth to say something before Insammon suddenly appeared in his true form. “How dare you, you little brat!” He shouts, stomping right to you. “I will possess you again, not to take over your body but to KILL YOU!” You step back, flinching as Insammon collides with the borders of the camp. He growls in frustration, banging on the wall with his lanky arms, a blue ring forming around every hit.

“You’ll die trying,” you remind him. “But if you’re so keen on going to Tartarus, we could send you there ourselves.” You’re unphased at the strained face of anger that flashed over his features. The bulged eyes, the wide mouth, the way his pale skin has turned a tint of pink.

The adrenaline of your success kicks in as your siblings begin to chant the banishing spell, and you chant with them—Insammon, too eager to get to you, kicks and growls against the borders.

You knew he was too weak to shift into his shadow self. He hadn’t fed off anyone’s fears in a week, and possessing that body and yours took a lot of strength. You couldn’t help but smile as you approached the end of your chant, watching as he began to shrink, using his last bit of energy to bang on the borders and yell threats that he’d never be able to fulfill.

“Bye-bye,” you kneel in front of him, your smile genuine this time.

“Curse you,” he strains as your siblings yell the sentence that ends all of your spells.

“So mote it be,” you join, watching as he disperses into ash with one last scream, and you sigh in satisfaction before standing back up.

It was silent for a moment, and you turned to your siblings with a smile on your face. Atticus stretches out both of his arms, and hands clenched into fists, “Pound it!” He shouts, and you and Lou Ellen giggle, pounding your knuckles into his.

“Now that that’s over, let’s go see if Percy saved us food,” Lou giggles, and you nod,

“Gah, I hope so. I’m starving.” Atticus nods in agreement, and you circle your arms around both of them, pulling them close to your side.

“That was pretty awesome,” Atticus says, the three of you beaming now that that whole ordeal was solved.

“Ha! I know! I told you we’d get this sorted out!” Lou Ellen declares.

“Actually, Y/n said everything would work out. You were the pessimistic one,” Atticus points out, and Lou Ellen scoffs,

“I’m not pessimistic! I’m just cautious!”

“You weren’t very cautious when you almost singed my eyebrow hairs when we were practicing our beams earlier this summer!”

“You were in the way!”

“I was behind you! I couldn’t have been more out of your way!”

You giggle as you listen to the two bickers back and forth. While walking with them side by side back to camp, you find your mind faltering to all of your worries a few weeks ago and your grief towards losing your guides in your magic. As you take in Lou Ellen and Atticus, you realize that your fear of being lost had been foolish. The three of you were more than capable, working as one to cast spells that you’ve never done before with ease. And with the relief of getting rid of Insammon comes the comfort of you accepting that you, Lou, and Atticus will be just fine without your brothers.

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