#I need a proper title for this AU. I'm up for suggestions!

[demaparbat-hp]

Maybe... the Fire Nation's got a point?

AKA the Katara Willingly Joins Zuko In His Quest To Find The Avatar AU

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To a Tea 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc. 

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU 

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary:  A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character:  Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don’t @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved. 

Six days in a row and you’re ready to keel over. Amid your busy schedule, you hadn’t a chance to fill your quickly dwindling cupboards and fridge. So, after a ten-hour shift on your feet, running all around the tables and between tea rooms, you expend the last of your strength on a quick trip to the shop. 

It isn’t too far out of your way. It’s just a half-block away from your stop. You could wait until tomorrow, your day off, but you’re dying for a strawberry shortcake mochi before you tuck into bed. The rest of your night isn’t too unusual; you’ll be happy to fall asleep to an episode of the same old sitcom that you know by rote. 

You yawn over the bask hooked over your elbow. You have your mochi and a few other staples to get you through; eggs, oat milk, and your favourite brand of granola. You rub your forehead as a stitch threatens to imprint itself permanently. Tomorrow you’ll do a proper shop. 

You stop just before the cashier and peruse the discount shelf. Those chocolate-covered gummy worms are deadly. You shouldn’t. 

You reach for the package, eyeing it up, blinking away another yawn. Those will only have you waking up with a sore tummy. 

“You’d be better off with the dark chocolate, or even the peanuts,” someone says. The timbre is dulcet but firm, and strangely familiar. 

You look over at the figure standing around the side of the shelves. You fear you might be hallucinating as you stare at Raymond. He has a square of protein chocolate in hand but sets it back where he got it, making certain it and every other bar is straight. 

“Oh, hi?” You stammer.  

The tea shop is busy and you’re certain you’ve probably crossed paths with at least one customer outside store hours, but never like this. If anything, you both look the other way and carry on. Instead, he’s intent on you, shifting to face you fully as he sets his shoulders, clutching his hands before him. 

“Though I do suppose you’ve already got the ice cream, it hardly matters what else you add to your lot,” he muses. 

You look in your basket then at him. Is he judging you? Mr. Black Tea, plain. You hang the bag back on the hook. As you do, he steps forward and you shuffle back on your heels. He pulls the bag in line with others, rescinding his hand with a flutter of fingers. 

“If you’re in the mind for something sweet, there’s a place near here, it has a sticky toffee pudding more worth the expense,” he suggests. 

You don’t know what to say. You haven’t seen him since he muttered about your apron strings. In the two weeks after, you assumed he might not come back. As particular as he is, you thought you’d gone egregiously over the line. And yet, you’d forgotten about him for all the other bodies passing through the door. 

“Thanks, I’ll look into that,” you say. 

“Mm,” he hums and his eyes flit up and down behind his lenses, “you sound different.” 

“Do I?” You reach to scratch your neck. 

“You look different too.” 

You tilt your head and give a confused grimace, “well, I...” you glance down, “suppose I'm not wearing my apron.” 

“Must be it,” he agrees, “you sound tired.” 

“I guess... yeah,” you take a breath and let it out slowly.  

It’s strange. He’s not a customer here, there is no need to please and yet you feel you must. You poke the tip of your tongue out then hide it behind your lips. 

“Not in a bad way,” he assures you.  

“Right, thanks,” you say in a fracture, “that’s nice, but uh, I... I’m just on my way home.” 

“I know,” he says. 

“...so then I’ll just be--” you point towards the checkout and falter, “what did you say?” 

“Yes, down Trafalgar. I know. It’s late,” he peers over towards the transparent walls along the front of the shop, “these parts aren’t too safe this time of day.” 

“Trafal--“ you begin but can’t finish, “Raymond.” 

He blinks, his expression scarily placid. 

“Details,” he says evenly, “it is best to keep note of them. It is dangerous not to mind them.” He raises a finger, “one might not notice the shadow that walks behind theirs or the window they left open in the kitchen.” 

Your lip trembles as your heart sinks, “have you... have you been following me?” 

“Following... that sounds sinister,” he gives a crooked expression, “no, no, I would consider it... I keep you safe.” 

“Safe. From what, exactly?” 

He narrows his eyes and his lips straighten thoughtfully.  

“Well, from men like me.” 

His words turn your blood to ice. Men like him. What does he mean? 

“I...” you take a step back and he moves with you. You put your hand up to stop him as you still, “Raymond, do not come any closer.” 

“You don’t understand, I wouldn’t hurt you,” he says, “that’s what makes me different. Not like those other men.” 

“I mean it,” you warn him. “If you come any closer, I will make a scene.” 

Your adrenaline courses through you. You’re awake now. The yawns have dissipated and your eyes are wide. 

“Ah, and that’s where I am like the other men,” he shrugs, “it doesn’t matter if I come closer to you right now. Hardly matters. Because I can wait. I have waited. And when I...” he steps towards you and you put the basket between you, his stomach pressing against it, “come closer, you will not even see me coming.” 

You stare at him, horrified. His blue eyes gleam and he reaches to straighten his glasses. He smirks and his brows draw up coyly. He leans in and you lean away. Then suddenly, he backs off and tugs his cuffs straight, then fixes his tie. 

“Don’t forget to close your window,” he says as he spins on his heel, “wouldn’t want some nocturnal creature creeping in.” 

You gape after him as he saunters off. You can’t quiet move as disbelief has you stuck to the spot. It’s all so sudden. So unexpected. How could you ever predict something like this? The uptight man from the tea shop, a stranger really, a face who disappeared for a whole fortnight, and he’s just shaken your entire world into disarray. 

Men like him? You don’t even know who he is. Only his name and how he likes his tea. 

[jinhyun]

—daisies.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, college au, dance major hyunjin, art major reader

word count: 7.8k

summary: sometimes things do not go to plan, hyunjin realised. not even when he had so carefully prepared a date to ask you to be his girlfriend for once and for all.

warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of condoms lol, MINORS DNI!!!!

a/n: you know what, i've decided to embrace the word count and i'm not even apologising this time bc we all saw it coming :') also!! i couldn't come up with any proper title for this so i just went with this basic one (if you get it, you get it). i hope you guys enjoyyy, please let me know your thoughts on this, your comments and reblogs make me the happiest<3

You enjoyed your 10 A.M. class on Fridays, you really did.

You enjoyed listening to your professor and taking notes of everything he explained. You enjoyed learning a little bit more about art with each class, and you certainly enjoyed getting to put it all to practice.

Today, however, you could not seem to be able to pay attention — neither to your professor, nor to the hardly touched canvas in front of you.

And how could you? The man you were in love with had just told you last night to pack an overnight bag and wait for him after class.

Not only that, but the conversation that had preceded his sudden outburst had left you restless, too — in the best of ways, of course. You could only anticipate what was to come during the little date he had planned. An entire day of only you and him, in whatever place it was he was taking you to.

An entire night, too, of only you and him. That you were also looking forward to.

A whole day and a whole night… He was definitely dropping the question at some point, right? He wouldn't be going through all this trouble not to ask you to be his girlfriend by the end of the day, would he?

Almost like he was reading your thoughts, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You didn't need to take it out to know it was Hyunjin letting you know he had arrived at your building and was already waiting for you, but you did anyway — smiling wholeheartedly at his addition of the pet name 'baby' at the end of his text.

The whole ten minutes left of the class were hell after that.

In between small strokes of colour on your canvas and looking at the clock every twenty seconds, you managed to make it through. And as soon as your professor said the class was over, you picked up your bag and flew outside of the studio.

Hyunjin must've noticed the class was done as well, for he was waiting right in front of the door, wearing a smile that only grew wider the moment his eyes met yours.

"Hey, cutie…" he greeted you softly, reaching an arm out for you to hold.

"Hey…" you smiled shyly, letting him pull you to him and press a brief kiss to your lips. "You've been calling me that a lot lately".

"Well, you did say calling you that would take me places" he smirked, getting a roll of eyes from you.

"You don't even know what places I was talking about" you bit back.

He chuckled, leaning in to brush his mouth against yours. "Hm… I think I'll take the risk".

Laughing under your breath as his lips pressed on yours once more, you rested your hands on his chest. "If anything, you're the one who should be taking me places now".

That got a throaty laugh from him. "I am," he confirmed, sliding your bag down your shoulder and hanging it on his instead. "Shall we go?"

Biting your lip to try and conceive the smile that was threatening to show at both the sight of his hand waiting to be held by yours and how cute he looked wearing the pastel pink bag you had brought that day, you nodded, no longer fighting your smile when you held his hand and his smiley lips pressed softly to your cheek.

"Where are you taking me?" you asked as you made your way out of the building.

"First, we're getting lunch".

"You know what I mean," you squinted your eyes. "What are we doing after lunch?"

"You'll see" he smirked.

"Babyyy~" you pouted, earning an amused roll of eyes from him.

"Not gonna work".

"Please?"

"It's a surprise".

"Can we go now then? We can get something to eat later".

"Aish, so impatient" he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closing in feigned annoyance.

"Jinnie…" you pouted once more.

"We can't skip lunch" he denied. "I'm not having you starve during the train ride".

"Train ride?!" your eyes sparkled and a proud smile curved up his lips. "Where are we travelling to?"

Throwing an arm over your shoulders, he pulled you to him and pressed a kiss to your temple — one that any other time would've been sweet, yet this time around seemed more taunting than anything. "That's as much as I'm saying".

-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

You were not even halfway into the day and it already felt like a dream.

Sitting by the window of a train, head resting on Hyunjin's shoulder while you looked at the passing scenery outside and listened to one of his playlists as you shared his earphones… everything about it truly felt like one of the many daydreams you used to have with him back when everything was one-sided.

And it could only feel even more surreal when you recognised the landscape outside; one you had not visited in over a year now — the last time being for the birthday party Innie's parents had prepared for him.

Busan.

For some reason still unknown to you, Hyunjin had taken you to Busan.

You found yourself having to ask him if he was serious when you first heard the destination at the train station, not believing your ears when you heard the name of the city through the speakers. And a part of you did still not believe he was taking you there until you saw it with your own two eyes.

You enjoyed the ride from the station to the place Hyunjin had booked for the two of you to spend the night, which turned out to be a very nice modern building that was a few minutes away from the beach. You took a mental note to visit it later that day or at least before leaving the next one, as going to the beach with him had just become a fundamental point of your couples to-do list with him.

The hotel room was bigger than you expected, yet not enough to take that coziness you craved so much away. The open curtains and beige walls brought just the right amount of brightness into the room, and it went well with the white sheets of the king bed in the middle.

The king bed.

You couldn't help the heat in your cheeks at the sight of it. You had been hoping there would be only one bed; you had actually supposed so at first, for you had slept together a few times by now. But actually being met with one bed only, regardless of it might being obvious, had sent a rush of heat through your body.

Watching as Hyunjin placed your bags on the small couch by the window, you decided to take off your shoes and lie down on the mattress for a bit. For some reason, the train ride had left you exhausted.

Hyunjin's lips curved up into an adoring smile the moment he turned around and saw you laying down on your back — arms stretching out above your head as if you had just woken up from a deep slumber, and managing to drag your black top up enough for half your abdomen to be uncovered.

"Don't tell me you're tired now" he teased, crawling right next to you.

"And what if I am?" you dared.

He smiled, resting his hand on your bare waist and drawing small circles on your skin. Goosebumps were fast to show under his touch. "It's not even dark outside yet".

"So what, I'm tired and this bed's too comfy" you snuggled up closer to him, receiving a tender kiss to your forehead.

"It is very comfy, I'll give you that".

"Can't believe you booked a hotel room for us" you smiled incredulously.

Hyunjin smiled as well, shrugging lightly before he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest. "I figured we could stay the night and that way enjoy the city all day today and some more tomorrow".

"I love that…"

"I was hoping you would…" he mumbled, resting his chin on your head. "Besides, getting to sleep with you is a nice plus to it".

Your cheeks heated up. "We've slept together back in Seoul, though".

"Yes, but not like this".

"Like what?"

He didn't need to say anything back. The single look he gave you when your eyes went up to meet his was enough to let you know what was so different this time. And you wanted it to be like that.

You had been taking it slow for a while now, and you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't miss his naked body against yours and the entire different level of intimacy that came with it.

Hyunjin missed it like crazy, too, and he couldn't help but show you with a kiss. After all, he had only been holding back all this time because you wanted to take things slow and he was willing to do that for you.

If it were up to him, though, you'd have spent endless nights tangled up in bed by now.

Your hands went to his nape in a second, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Your heavy breathing mixed with his hot one, pressing your mouth to his once more and feeling a shiver run down your spine when his hand moved from your waist to your ass.

That's all you needed to push him down on the mattress and crawl on his lap. The low moan that slipped past his lips was music to your ears, and his hands squeezing your ass before he pushed you down on his crotch was enough to get a muffled moan from you in return.

Your hands travelled down from his chest to his waistline, where you reached his pants.

"No, no… wait…" his breathy plea against your mouth stopped you from pulling the zip down, looking at him in confusion instead. "I didn't bring you here to have sex".

The look on your face must've been accusing as hell, for he couldn't hold back a laugh.

"I'm serious!" he said in between a giggle, hands unconsciously digging under your top and resting right above the curve of your waist.

"Your hands tell me otherwise" you teased.

Hyunjin bit his lip, contemplating for a moment before he stole a chaste kiss from your lips and removed his hands from under your top, bringing them up to your shoulders instead.

"I'm supposed to take you somewhere else today," he confessed. "Right now, actually. We're already running a bit late if we wanna see the whole thing".

You cocked an eyebrow, suddenly interested. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise" he smiled, giggling once again when you squinted your eyes daringly. "Last surprise of the day, I promise".

"But I wanna stay here…" you pouted.

Leaning in to press your lips to his in a lingering kiss, you felt him sigh against your mouth — already regretting having to take you somewhere else and considering just staying here in bed with you for the remaining of the trip.

"Don't do this to me…" he whined, hands travelling down again and fingertips pressing hard against the flesh of your hips as he lost the battle against himself and leaned in to steal another kiss from you. "If we're staying in bed all day we could've just stayed in Seoul".

You pouted. "But I want you".

"Couldn't you want me this bad back home?"

"I did want you this bad," you confessed, lips lightly brushing his. "I just have a lot of self-control".

Hyunjin chuckled, nuzzling the crook of your neck before pressing a soft kiss to it. "You're gonna have to keep that self-control up for a little longer then".

"Hyunjin…"

"Ugh, don't say my name like that when you're on top of me" he pleaded.

"That is your name, though" you laughed.

"Mhm… play innocent all you want, baby" his grip on your hips tightened playfully. "You're gonna love the place I'm taking you to much more".

"More than staying in bed with you for what's left of the day?"

A heavy whine escaped his mouth this time, one that was followed by a feigned cry as he threw his head back in exasperation — clearly having failed at trying to convince himself of it.

You laughed loudly at the very troubled sight of him, but it didn't last long, for he was fast to turn you around so now your back was pressed against the mattress and he was on top of you.

"Don't play with me, baby…" he whispered, and this time you couldn't tell whether it was a plea or more of a threat. "I promise you we'll have all night to ourselves".

"All night?" you pushed it.

He smiled, leaning in to kiss you gently. "All night".

"Okay then…" you sighed, gently running your hands down his biceps. "Since you promised".

"Trust me, there's nothing I'd want more than to stay here with you right now" he kissed you again. "But there's a reason I brought you all the way here, so…" he sat up, holding a hand out for you to hold. "Let's go?"

-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

It only hit you how perfectly Hyunjin had planned everything out when you finally arrived at your destination.

The hotel you were staying at was hardly ten minutes away by foot, and you had surely enjoyed the hand-in-hand walk over there. You could honestly enjoy anything as long as you were with him, and you were definitely having the time of your life looking around the city to realise the place Hyunjin had stopped in front of.

Bon Davinci Museum.

More particularly, the Van Gogh Village Exhibition. The same one you had missed last year back in Seoul and had no idea was now back for a while in a different city.

The look you gave Hyunjin at the realisation was one of pure adoration, and you wondered how expressive you actually were, given you could clearly see the effect your eyes had on him — bringing a bright pink to his cheeks and that cute dimple of his was not something you achieved on a daily basis.

He cleared his throat, trying to control his shy smile at that. "Let's go".

Too stunned to speak, you let him guide you to the line of people who already had their tickets. He had truly left no details behind, and your heart could only soar over how much effort he had put into this.

"I can't believe we're here," you squealed, quietly enough not to bring people's attention to you — that didn't stop Hyunjin's attention and heart eyes from focusing on your beaming face. "God, Innie's gonna be so jealous when he finds out".

Hyunjin chuckled. "Now I feel bad because he gave me his ticket for Nam June Paik's expo and I didn't invite him here".

"He couldn't go to his expo, the ticket would've gone to waste anyway" you squeezed his hand, walking forward as the line in front got shorter. "And let's be honest, he would've third wheeled so hard if he came here with us".

"I'm telling him you'd make him third wheel with us" he smirked.

"Do that and I'm making you third wheel when I'm with him".

"I would like to see you try" he gave you a cynical smile.

Mirroring his attitude, you stuck your tongue out to him before he loosely placed his arm around your shoulders. You lightly rested your head on his shoulder.

"I need to record the Almond Blossom room for him, that's what he wanted to see the most" you nodded to yourself, then looking up at Hyunjin with hopeful eyes. "You think they have the Vase with Daisies and Poppies?"

"I knew you would look for it first thing" he shook his head in amusement.

"Do they?" you perked up.

He shrugged, not even trying to hide his will to tease you. "I guess we'll find out".

"You so know the answer and don't wanna tell me".

"Aren't you the one who wanted to visit so badly in Seoul? Shouldn't you know that, baby?"

Your jaw fell in offense, and you wasted no time in pulling away from his hold. "I hate you".

Hyunjin chuckled, pulling you into his embrace once more and then pressing his lips to your temple. "I know you don't".

Rolling your eyes as you silently rejoiced in his touch, you didn't pry away from it — instead, you wrapped your arm around his waist right as you reached the girl who would scan your tickets.

From the moment you step a foot inside, it was everything you had hoped for.

You remembered how bad you and Innie wanted to go last year when it was in Seoul for a couple of weeks, but it just so conveniently happened to be during finals season, and so you both had to give up enjoying this anticipated art exhibition over your art courses, as ironic as it sounded.

Hyunjin had found out about it one evening when he was lying down on your bed while you worked on a paper — Van Gogh being brought up as you mindlessly chatted and then you casually mentioned your and Jeongin's tragic story.

It had been just that. A light conversation while your attention was mostly focused on your research and Hyunjin's eyes remained focused on his phone, as he had only come over to keep you company. You had mentioned it and moved on. Just that.

You didn't expect him to remember, and you most certainly weren't expecting him to go out of his way to take you to a completely different city so you could finally see the exposition you had missed a year ago.

If he only paid attention, he would see in your eyes just how much harder you had fallen for him right then.

He was too excited making sure you'd admire every masterpiece that was portrayed on the multi-screens, however — far from looking into the way you would stare at him and instead getting lost in the way your smile would take over your face and your eyes would sparkle with every piece you reached.

He was personally most excited about the Starry Night, but when you finally reached the room it was in and you were suddenly covered under the blue and yellow lights, he couldn't help but admire you instead.

Funnily enough, you were doing just the same with him. The difference being you couldn't contain yourself and ended up taking your phone out of your pocket and snapping a picture of him. A picture that turned into five more as you asked him to pose for you and he complied, and which then turned into some more when he took out his phone and had you as his personal model for a while — later pulling you to him and snatching a few selfies together that would make it to his favourites folder.

It made him almost wish you could stay in that moment forever, but there was one last piece you were the most excited about and he was taking you there.

Your face the moment you saw the one painting you had asked about earlier was all Hyunjin needed to know bringing you here was worth it.

"Jinnie, oh my God, they do have it!"

You heard his quite loud yet shy giggle as you rushed towards the huge projection of the Vase with Daisies and Poppies.

Being quite lost in the sight of it, you missed his presence coming up closer to you — jolting up for a moment there when his arms sneaked around your waist from behind, before your body relaxed under his familiar touch.

"I knew they had it" he admitted the obvious, just as his chin rested on your shoulder.

"I knew you knew whether they had it" you side eyed him.

He laughed under his breath, pressing his lips briefly to your cheek. "I just wanted to leave the best for the last" his thumb ran up and down your sides. "Although in my opinion the best was the Starry Night".

"That's because you're basic".

He gasped, tightening his hold on your waist as he leaned back and pulled you slightly away. "You did not just call me basic, daisy girl".

"No, don't bring daisies into this" you warned him.

"They're like the most basic flower out there".

Once again, you were the one to act offended. "You know, you just lost all the points you had gained by calling me 'cutie'".

"Come on now, that's not fair".

"It is plenty fair".

"What about all the points I won by taking you here?"

"Oh yeah, those are gone, too".

"All because I called daisies basic?"

"You deliberately attacked my fixation on them, so…"

He pouted once more, and you could not help but smile sweetly and trace his bottom lip with your thumb.

"You do get some points back for being cute, though".

"Oh, that definitely makes me feel better" he snorted.

You laughed under your breath, lightly pecking his mouth before your eyes locked with his. "Thank you…"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What for?"

"For this?" you pointed out the obvious, motioning around the room. "I know I already said that I can't believe you brought me to Busan and all that, but this… I mean, I wanted to see this so badly and I didn't even know it was in Busan right now? How did you…"

Hyunjin shrugged, naturally resting his hands on your waist. "I knew you couldn't go last year when it was in Seoul, and I… to be honest I didn't know it was in Busan either, I just started to look for places to take you out on a date and this popped up and it was just perfect".

"You could've just taken me to any art museum back in Seoul and I would've been just as happy, you know?"

"In between taking you somewhere we can go to any other day and taking you to an exposition that will only be here for a couple of weeks… and which you really wanted to see to begin with… I think I know which one would make you happier".

You laughed lightly, wholeheartedly, cupping his face in your hands and tenderly running your thumbs over the corners of his mouth as your eyes went up to meet his. "I love you".

You felt his breath get caught in his throat, and although he opened his mouth to say something in return —or at least try to, as you could see already his voice would betray him—, you didn't need to hear it nor see him struggle. So, you kissed him.

He kissed you back immediately, tenderly as ever — his warm hand cupping your cheek and deepening the kiss before you could pull away.

"You don't have to say it back" you smiled truthfully. "I've just been really struggling lately not to say it every five minutes and needed to let it out".

"Y/N… I, I'm…"

"It's okay, baby, really" you reassured him, reaching for his hand and eagerly tugging at it. "Now let's go! The beach is close, if we rush we can watch the sunset!"

-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

I love you. I love you. I love you.

That's what you had said, so effortlessly.

I love you. It's what he wanted to say right back the second those three words had abandoned your mouth, but he froze.

He froze.

Love had always come easy to you. You loved selflessly, effortlessly, shamelessly, fully, and expected to be loved the same. He, on the other hand, had always been an outcast to love and romance as a whole.

In his mind, he had told you he loved you plenty of times. When it came to finally, actually saying it outloud, however, his breath had got caught up in his throat and he could physically not let the words out of his mouth.

To say he was upset was an understatement.

You didn't seem to be upset or slightly hurt at his lack of response. Were you that used to his distance from love? Had you really been expecting him not to say he loved you back? Or were you just one hell of an actress?

Whatever the right answer was, it could only upset him more. God, he wanted nothing more than for you to know he loved you.

The sun had still another few minutes to go before settling, and so you had taken a little detour from your walk to the beach to buy the two of you some coffee — on you, as you did not let him pay for it no matter how hard he fought it. Your date, the one he had planned, was not over yet after all.

Hyunjin couldn't help but feel like he had failed at that, too. He had brought you all the way here with the intent of asking you to be his girlfriend, yet the words 'I love you' had been said and suddenly he was out of words and letting you drag him out without even protesting.

If it weren't for how happy you looked back then and how happy he was to see your bright smile adorning your lips as you enjoyed the entirety of the exposition, he would've felt like it all had been pointless.

But there you were, on the other hand, playfully swinging your interlaced hands and sipping on your iced coffee as you walked to the beach. As if nothing had happened ten minutes ago.

A contagious smile took over your face when you finally reached the beach — one that he couldn't help but mirror, feeling at ease over the way your hand had tightened around his as you fastened your pace towards the sand.

You stopped just before the sand turned wet and the waves could reach your feet, yet were still close enough to feel the small drops of salty water that were dragged by the wind to lightly hit your body.

The sun had just started to go down, creating a blue canvas in the sky that turned darker with each passing second, and which was painted by bright strokes of pink and orange that mixed together at certain points.

You couldn't tell whether this was the most beautiful sunset you had ever seen, or whether it was only the fact that you had Hyunjin with you to watch it what made it so special.

Whatever the answer was, you couldn't take your eyes off of it — only doing so to look at Hyunjin when you felt his arms sneak around your waist and his chin rest on your shoulder. You could get used to this new habit of his.

"I always wanted to do this…" you sighed dreamingly, placing your hands over his.

"Do what?" he mumbled, looking up at you.

"You're gonna say it's corny".

"Tell me" he encouraged you.

"Watch the sunset with the person I… you know…" you laughed timidly.

Hyunjin felt a pinch in his chest, and he couldn't tell whether it was out of the insane amount of love he was feeling for you or out of pain.

He knew what you had wanted to say, and he knew you had stopped yourself from saying it not to make him uncomfortable — because, in the end, although his lack of previous response had not hurt you, it did make you fear you'd put him in a tough place if you kept saying it.

Pressing his lips to your shoulder and then clearing his throat, he pulled away from you. "I brought you something, by the way…"

"I thought you said there were no more surprises?" you cocked an eyebrow.

He chuckled, kneeling down on the sand before he took off his backpack and rummaged through it. "It's not really a surprise if we had agreed on making this for each other".

"You brought me your painting?!" you perked up at that, sitting down right next to him with crossed legs.

Hyunjin nodded, silently taking the painting out and handing it to you. "Your painting now, technically".

One look at it, and it had already become your favourite painting in the world.

You had made many portraits in your life, but you had never been on the other end of it. You had never seen yourself through someone else's eyes, and seeing yourself through Hyunjin's right there sent a million butterflies flying around your stomach.

It was funny how both of you had painted each other. However, both works of art were very different.

You had gone with a darker palette — ocean blue being the main star of it. Hyunjin, on the other hand, had gone for lighter colours like white, violet and yellow.

You had used more of a zoomed out picture of him ���not like you had used an actual picture, as you had used nothing but your memory to paint that beautiful face of his you had fallen in love with at first sight—, and he had made your face justice by making it the main attraction.

However, although your face was the first thing that caught your eye, your attention and admiration went to the flowers he had painted around. The very same ones he had called you out about earlier that day.

"So… you like it?" Hyunjin asked softly, unable to hide just how nervous he was over your reaction.

"Baby…" your eyes fixed on his expectant one. "It's beautiful, I love it".

"You do?" he giggled.

"Yes, it's—" your eyes went back to the painting, and Hyunjin's smile grew brighter at the way you admired it. "Fuck, it's so beautiful I could cry".

"Now you know how I felt when I saw the one you made for me".

You smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "I really love it, Jinnie. Thank you".

"Don't make me shy now…" he warned you breathily.

"Aw, can't the guy who lives for the spotlight at Mrs. Moon's class take a compliment now?" you taunted.

"It's different…" he rested his head on yours. "I had never painted something for anyone before".

And the fact that the first time he ever did it was for you did not help his case at all.

Your heart soared, and you couldn't help but press another kiss to his cheek — this time closer to the corner of his mouth.

"Well, I love it" you whispered. "Especially the small details of the daisies".

"Yeah… forget about me calling them basic earlier and all that".

You shoved him away with your shoulder as you laughed. "I want to believe this painting as a whole isn't calling me basic".

"I would never" he murmured against your lips, pressing a soft kiss to them.

"That's good," you smirked. "Because you drew a daisy on me once, so that would've been sad".

Hyunjin looked dumbfounded for a second before he got what you meant — a throaty yet somewhat nervous laugh making its way out of his mouth as he was flooded with memories of the night you first kissed.

He didn't think you'd even remember the small blue doodle of a daisy he had taken his time drawing on your neck.

He should've known better, though, for the first thing you did that night after he walked you home and you said your good nights was to go in front of a mirror and check your neck out. You were expecting to see an embarrassing drawing, the kind middle schoolers would draw on their friends' notebooks when they left them unattended, but you were met with a surprisingly neat daisy adorning your skin instead.

You had loved it, and although you were too shy to ever bring it up to him or to anyone else at all, it was a memory you had kept close to your heart. The first ever thing Hyunjin drew for you —or on you— being something you loved so much. And now the first ever proper painting he made for you had, too, made a beautiful inclusion of it.

"You've just made them your whole thing now, ever since we met" he explained. "So I think of you whenever I see them".

"You do?"

"Mhm… you're pretty like them".

"Just pretty?" you batted your eyelashes.

A low chuckle abandoned his mouth as he leaned in to kiss you. "Pretty beautiful, actually".

"Ew, when did you get so corny?" your nose scrunched up in disgust.

"Oh, don't act like you don't love it" his eyes squinted accusingly.

You giggled, shaking your head in disbelief. "God, I love you".

There it was again.

You had breathed those words out like it was so natural for you. Your eyes were no longer on him this time, though, but on the painting he had made for you instead, which could only make him feel like you hadn't even realised you had said it.

It just came that naturally to you.

"You used watercolor in the end" you pointed out, looking up at him with a smile.

"I don't think it was ever up for debate" he chuckled.

"I thought of using it as well…" you admitted, much to his surprise. "But then I thought about the painting I had started that night you came to the studio and thought I could finish it for you… it was all about you after all".

"That's why it looked so familiar" he brought a dramatic hand to his mouth.

"It's not like you got to see much of it back then" you shyly laughed.

"No, because your pretty face was taking up most of it".

You felt your cheeks heat up at his remark — not only because of the use of the word 'pretty', but also because of how your face lying on the fresh paint had been what led up to your first kiss.

"So, you were painting me in blue back then… should I be worried?"

You shrugged, this time a somewhat sad smile reaching your eyes. "You really did put me through a lot, Hwang Hyunjin".

He smiled sadly, too. "I know…"

"Although it was mostly my fault, because I was the one who kept chasing after you even when you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me" you nervously fidgeted with the sand under you. "And! The painting is not all blue as you can see, there are some bright colours, too. I added the yellow moon to the sky after that same night".

"Why the yellow moon, though?" he asked.

"Yellow makes me happy" you shrugged nonchalantly. "And the moon reminds me of you".

A bright smile parted Hyunjin's lips. "So you're saying I make you happy?"

"Shut up" you warned him.

"Do I make you happy, baby?" he cooed tauntingly.

"Of course you do…" you murmured, not meeting his eyes. "Now leave me alone, I'm embarrassed".

A throaty laugh escaped his mouth, not letting you push him away like you had playfully tried to do, and instead tugging at your wrist. "Noo, come here".

Before you could even protest, he was pulling you to his lap. You straddled it like he wanted, arms naturally resting over his shoulders while his hands fell loosely over your lower back.

You couldn't help but look around for a moment, suddenly hitting you that you were in a public place and anyone could see how lovey dovey you were being.

Luckily for you, the sun had just set completely and the beach was pretty much dessert — the only people who were still there were either friends catching up on their lives or couples who were already too into their own worlds to pay attention to anything else.

Two fingers on your chin brought your attention back to Hyunjin. His nose rubbed gently against yours and his lips brushed yours ever so softly.

"Kiss me" he whispered.

You rested your forehead on his and cupped his cheek before you whispered, "In front of all these people? While I'm sitting on your lap?"

"That's what I said".

"You think you'll be able to control yourself?"

He snorted quietly, shaking his head in amusement before he cupped your cheek instead and pressed his mouth to yours.

Guess you would just have to find out.

The hand of yours that was still over his shoulder tightened around his neck, right as his hand on your back pushed your chest closer to his and his tongue traced your bottom lip for you to open up. Once you did and your tongues met one another, he couldn't hold back the small contented sigh that abandoned his mouth.

The kiss was soft, slow, tender — not a single rush in the world as it felt like you were the only two people in it that night.

"I love you…"

It wasn't coming out of your lips this time, but out of his.

It came out as a whisper, barely audible if it weren't for his mouth being attached to yours, but there was not a single hint of hesitation in his voice.

Your eyes opened in a heartbeat, being met with his genuine yet surprised ones, as the words had seemed to have slipped out of his mouth before he could even notice.

Maybe it was that easy to say those three words after all.

"What?" you asked in a whisper, pulling him slightly away by his shoulders. "No, Jinnie, I didn't… I wasn't expecting y—I wasn't trying to pressure you when I said—"

Your trembling rambling was shut down with a soft kiss of his.

"You really think I would say it if I didn't mean it? After how fucking hard I tried to avoid love all these years?"

"Why didn't you say it back at the exhibition then?" you frowned.

"I froze," he shamefully admitted. "I wanted to say it back so bad but I just couldn't get the words out".

"You mean it?" you whispered, still in disbelief.

"Of course I mean it. I've been struggling not to say it for a while now, too, but then you said it first… twice… and I guess I got too stunned to say anything back".

"Seems like I'm always one step ahead of you when it comes to love" you proudly stated.

"That you are" he agreed, smiling sweetly while his thumb drew small circles on your chin. "I really love you, Y/N".

You pouted, feeling like you could cry out of happiness right then and there. "I love you, too".

He pulled you into a kiss, probably the happiest one you had shared, as the curved up corners of your lips and the breathy laughs escaping them made it hard for you to suck on them.

"Is that why you brought me here?" you asked against his pink mouth. "To tell me this?"

He bit his lip, lowering his head and fidgeting with your fingers. "It was actually so I could ask you to be my girlfriend…"

Your heart skipped a beat, having to take a moment not to let out a squeal. "You planned to ask me at the beach all along?"

"No, um… I was supposed to ask you at the exposition, actually" he tilted his head. "But then you told me you loved me and I froze and, well…"

"You really had that much of a hard time trying to ask me?"

"No, I mean, I don't know?" he whined. "You're just, you".

"What is that supposed to mean?" you laughed under your breath.

"It means that I wanted it to be perfect but then again I still get so nervous around you and feelings are still ugh, and I get all—you make me so flustered, woman".

You threw your head back, this time laughing with your whole chest over how cute his troubled expression was.

"Aw, I love that" coming back to look at him, you pulled him in to kiss his nose. "You're adorable".

"That's not really the reaction I was going for…" he joked.

"You know it didn't have to be perfect, right? You could've just asked me while we were hanging out back at yours or mine, or even after class for all I care" you tenderly pushed back a strand of hair that was covering his eye. "I would've said yes regardless".

"I asked you when we were in bed the first time and you said no" he pouted.

"You were drunk," you reminded him, earning an obnoxiously cute shrug from him. "I wanted you to mean it when you said it".

"I did mean it" he fought.

"I wanted you to say it without the influence of alcohol in the middle then".

"Alcohol made it easier, though" Hyunjin pouted.

You cupped his face as a small laugh escaped your mouth. "I bet it did" your thumb traced the corner of his mouth, where you pressed a light kiss to. "And for the record, I never said no".

"You told me to ask you again when I was sober".

"Which made it implicit that I was saying yes".

"Are you saying yes now then?"

"If you ask me properly…" you sighed over-dramatically. "Then possibly".

"You're just playing with me at this point" he recriminated, earning an amused chuckle from you.

"Maybe…" you taunted him, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Do you know the implications of me becoming your girlfriend, though, Hwang Hyunjin?"

"Of course I know," he smirked, pulling you in. "It means you'll be all mine".

You bit your bottom lip. "It also means you'll be all mine, though".

He shrugged. "I've already been for a while now".

"I've also been yours for a while now. A pretty good while, actually".

Hyunjin chuckled, his hand running up and down your back. "Maybe, but now I'll be able to go up to any douchebag who tries to hit on you and let them know you're mine".

"Haven't you already done that?" you chuckled, and his smirk only grew. "You even used the word 'girlfriend' if I'm not mistaken, which I was not back then".

His plump lips trapped your bottom one in between, gently sucking on it before he slowly pulled at it with his teeth.

"Be my girlfriend then? For real?" he mumbled against your lips, and you felt like you would die when his hungry eyes stared at your mouth for a couple of seconds before they went up to your eyes.

You nodded, because words were not something you could speak anymore.

"Words, baby" he pushed it. "I need you to say it".

"Of course I'll be your girlfriend, Jinnie".

His eyes turned into two crescent moons, and suddenly you realised why the moon reminded you of him. With a breathy giggle leaving his mouth, he pulled you into another kiss — the first one you would share as an official couple.

Looking back at it, you couldn't believe you were living all this with the guy who used to avoid your attempts —or avoid you as a whole— and who claimed not to want a relationship, ever. You couldn't believe your feelings were returned in the end, and that he actually wanted to be with you in a serious, formal relationship.

But here you were, in a Busan beach after the sun went down, sitting on his lap while one of his hands remained on your lower back and the other one on your nape, sharing a kiss that somehow managed to be more special than all the others you had shared that day.

"What's so funny?" he wondered when a small, breathy laugh ran past your lips.

"I managed to get you in the end, huh?" you giggled, earning an amused roll of eyes from him. "Was I too charming for you not to fall for me, baby?"

"Don't let it get to your head" he warned you.

"Oh, I would never" you smirked.

Hyunjin shook his head in amusement, pulling you in to plant a kiss on your forehead right as you shivered. "It's getting cold..." he pointed out, looking around to realise there was no one else at the beach anymore. "Let's go back to the hotel, yeah?"

You nodded, standing up from his lap and offering him a hand to help him up before you could pick up the half emptied cups of coffee. "Should we get something to eat?"

"You're hungry?" he asked while putting his backpack on.

"Not really," you shrugged, handing him his coffee. "But it's late…"

"We could order some food later" he suggested, pulling you closer and stealing a lingering kiss from your addictive lips. "Just want to head straight to our hotel room now".

"I'm guessing you did bring a condom this time around?" you teased, although you both knew you were half serious.

"Tsk. Of course I did. Learned my lesson the hard way with you" he shook his head. "Besides, I was being quite optimistic about today".

"Oh, were you now?"

"Mhm..." he nodded, interlocking his fingers with yours before you started walking back to the hotel. "I actually brought like fifteen of them".

You laughed. "Don't test your luck, Hwang Hyunjin".

"You did say we had all night to ourselves".

"You said that".

"And you agreed".

Hearing your laugh right then and feeling you lean closer to him in look for warmth, he could only feel the luckiest to have you with him.

Things had not exactly gone according to plan today, and despite it making him upset at first, it was that little detour what allowed him to hear you say you loved him. And although it took him a while, he, too, had told you he loved you.

It was that little detour what allowed him to ask you to be his girlfriend without feeling like his heart would break out of his chest at any given moment — though he did still feel nervous when he asked you anyway. But it was natural, the words had made their way out of his mouth effortlessly, not even giving him time to chicken out like he had done a couple of times by now.

And somehow, that little moment of yours at the beach, ignoring the world around you as nothing and no one else seemed to matter, had been so much more special than anything he could've ever planned.

In the end, he realised he didn't have to try so hard and instead let things take their own course and go on their own pace. When it came to you, no matter what happened, you would be able to find your way back to each other. The two of you could always count on that.

tag list: @blaaiissee @hyuneytoast @staysuki @tardiscompanion @princehyun-jin @hyuka-luvbot @halesandy @nattisbored @berryberrytan @hibuki-chan @purenjuniverse @seungly @suhnnyskiess @midsoulz @kwanisms @esme-ordaz @candyapletree @firnze @soobin-chois @moon-320 @ohmyteez @elviransworld @valewoos @ktttwwn @hazzaloveschopsuey @hannahdinse8 @zoe8stay @leechanniee @phenomenalgirl9 @aeminju @threevracha @laryisthinking @wolfietara @iam2out @peterparkoure @cosmic-railwayxo @straykidsficsrecsbaby @marsophilia @choibeomgogi @ddaengpotate @oceanyocean @rinsdesires @jhslmhbtsskz @lixlovesworld @keenlampponyclam @yerimselgi @mal-lunar-28 @littlestarhyun @mingiholic @euphroseia

[birinboom]

WIPs for Gaza

$1 donated = 100 words written on a WIP of your choice! IE if you donate $5 I write 500 words on the WIP you've chosen to sponsor.

Donate HERE then send me a screenshot of your donation, either through an ask or a dm (EDIT: From now on I'm going to start answering asks with donations to say thank you, please let me know if you'd like me to NOT answer your ask so you'll be kept anonymous!). Please note that this screenshot will be passed on to @ficsforgaza, so make sure you’ve scrubbed all personal information before sending it to me! And please don’t cheat and send the same screenshot to multiple authors!

Also, I will regularly update this post. Since reblogs don't show updates, please check this post on my blog to see new edits!

List of WIPs in no specific order:

Boku no Hero Academia My Hero Academia

Roommate Kiri (no proper title yet) Kirishima Eijirou x Reader  Quirkless roommate AU, pandemic fic which I never wrote during the actual pandemic, fluff, roommates to lovers You don’t really know your roommate well. He’s fine as roommates go, cleans up after himself, bills paid on time. But he’s rarely around for you to actually get to know him. Things begin to change when the pandemic forces both of you to stay at home and your social butterfly of a roommate suddenly loses IRL access to his friends. Current word count: 340 words Estimated ~6,000 words 1,000 words sponsored! Read the original drabble here

Sequel to post-apocalyptic shopkeep Bakugou (again, no title yet) Bakugou Katsuki, Reader Post-apocalyptic AU, adventure, fluff, light angst You are hired to go to an old nuclear facility to look for documents important to your client. Bakugou, who you’ve come to for weapons, insists on coming with you. During your mission you and Bakugou grow closer and you get to see a side of him you’ve never seen before. (I am unsure whether they will grow closer as friends, as a mentor/mentee thing, or if they become lovers. Open for suggestions on this) Current word count: 450 words Estimated ~8,000 words Read the first part here 

The Color of Twilight Ojiro Mashirao x Fem!Reader Fantasy AU, fluff, romance Dreaming of getting away from the city and opening up a country-side café, you decide to sell most of your possessions and move to the village of Faerie’s Brook. However, you would never have expected that the stories about the magical creatures of the countryside were actually real. Current word count: 2,230 words Estimated ~12,000 words 2,700 words sponsored! Read an excerpt here

Honkai: Star Rail

A second part to The Luck-Bringing Cat Jing Yuan x Fem!Reader Fantasy AU based on ‘The Apothecary Diaries’ (I need to find a better label for this), fluff, romance SO! This one doesn’t have any form of synopsis yet but I have a lot of ideas! Like a more in-depth description of Reader receiving Snowmoon, or Jing Yuan coming home after having been away for months and an epic cuddle session happens. I’m also open to more ideas!  Current wordcount: none Estimated ~2,500 words Read the first part here 

I may add more WIPs in the future.

Please note that I am terrible at estimating word counts and the fics will most likely end up longer than I anticipated ‘cause I am utterly unable to be concise.

Finished Fics

One Moment of Forever Todoroki Shouto x Reader Fluff, established relationships, camping, nature therapy, pet names (love) 🌸 1,786 words When Shouto is forced to take a break from work due to a quirk injury, the two of you decide to go on a camping trip to your favorite lakeside spot

[unreliable-narrator-chilaios]

chilaios week; day 6 prompt: "beach episode/alternative universe", using both prompts; 1,579 words

no i did not do the previous days. yet. but i WAS struck by inspiration for this one. i don't want to give too much away so i'm not saying what the AU is, but you'll figure it out lol

title: Chilchuck's Secret

cws: not any, I think? this one's very sweet. i wanted to use the good vibes of beach episode... i guess there's some suggestive lines, but it's not nsft at all.

      There’s a secret at the beach, if you know where and when to look.

      And nobody knows but Chilchuck, of course.

      He was always the sort of man to keep his cards close to his chest, and this was no exception. Anything that he treasured, he had to keep locked away - hoarding everything he held dear to keep it safe and sound, out of the way of harm… with maybe only a hint of jealousy inherent in that act. Greed, even.

      Not that he was the greedy one out of the two of them. That title belonged to Laios, through and through.

      The brittle shale that crumpled beneath his fingers was cool to the touch, compared to how it would feel later. It hadn’t yet been baked in the sun for hours today. The shale and limestone and sand were blissfully cool for now, letting him take his time on his way down the short cliffside to the cove. It was the time of year that it was cool in the morning and searingly hot in the afternoon, the time of year that he was always tempted to stay from dawn until dusk. Maybe even longer than that. It was a rush to get across the route when the sand scalded and blistered his feet, but when it was cool, it was almost soft. Pleasant.

      He needed the lack of urgency - the slowly building arthritis in his hands and knees made him especially stiff in the mornings. His tri-weekly trips here had been helping considerably, but the way down to get there was rough, even if the reward was well worth it. His body creaked traitorously, even as it allowed him his nimble movements down the short rock wall, the sudden lurch from his hop down onto flat stone.

      Tide pools flourished here. It was low tide, making the shallow dips and pools in the rock especially prominent, where hardy, stubborn plants drooped at the surface and critters scuttled within and between them. He was careful to sidestep a crab on his way to the sand proper, relaxing as his feet sank into the fine grains.

      He breathed in the scent of sea spray, salt and foam, the smell of things washed up by the tide and left stranded when the waters receded. A chunk of driftwood would soon be picked up again at noon, when the high tide came back; clumps of washed-up kelp and algae littered the beach, at the line where he knew the tide would come up to later.

      The sun was still low in the sky, just barely peeking through the trees that sheltered the cove. The passage to the ocean was narrow, and the forest was thick in this area. Most of the cove wasn’t just blocked off by trees, but cliffs. His route down the side of one was the safest; the beach here was free of litter, free of the sound of crinkling plastic and the smell of waste, the bright eyesores of humanity that left their mark on nature’s majesty.

      Chilchuck relaxed as his eyes gravitated towards an outcropping of rock in the center of the water. He wasn’t here yet, but that was fine. The half foot was early to their meeting.

      He made himself comfortable. The sand yielded to him where he stepped, slipping between his toes and under his heel as he walked across the sandy portions of the beach, coming up to a rock that he’d begun to favor in the past month. Pebbles and sharp stones littered the sand here, but he didn’t mind, avoiding them the best he could before he quickly scaled the side of the beach rock.

      It was the outermost boulder of a wider outcropping that extended from the cliffs, forming a small, flat perch on top that let him have an excellent view of the cove. The chill in the rock was soothing as he sat down, careful not to let his swimming trunks get caught on the sharp little crags.

      Other than his swimming trunks, he wasn’t wearing much. Just a plain white swim shirt. The trunks themselves were solid black. He would have opted for clothing that looked a little better, but he had to replace them often - he kept stashes of extra pairs in an alcove nearby, in case of them being ripped or shredded while he was here.

      It happened much more often than he’d like. The thought alone made him huff, amused, as his whiskers twitched and his tail curled around his side. His ears flicked when he felt the breeze stir the inner ear fur. He usually hid his more… animalistic features when he could, but he knew Laios would just rip his clothes off even faster, just for a chance to feel his tail. Grabby bastard.

      Speaking of. Speak of the devil, and he shall come.

      There’s a large, dark shadow in the water. The water here is practically crystal clear, but it’s massive and far away - the cove is huge, after all, stretching across half a mile from one side to the other. He can see the little flurries of shoals of fish scattering in its wake, schools dispersing and reforming as they flittered between open water and the abundance of plants in the makeshift, tiny reef that had formed here. Small stretches of coral were in the deeper parts of the water, here, and seagrass and algae offering food and shelter a little further out, teetering off into just rocks closer to the beach. Algae particularly liked the base of the sea stack in the middle, the base of the colossal rock wrapped in slimy dark green.

      With a burst of ripples and sea spray, the figure breaks the surface of the water, hauling itself up the rock with relative ease, even as gravity drags it down. He isn’t meant for the surface, after all, and without the buoyancy of the water, he’s heavy - because, after all, he’s an utterly massive cecaelia. Pale skin transitioned to yellow-gold at the waist, the muscular fatty upper human half matched with a fat, bulky form of an octopus, rippling with muscle underneath slick, oddly-textured skin and suction cups. He easily hauled himself onto his own perch, running a hand through his blonde hair and practically deflating under his own weight for a moment.

      Those golden eyes light up like always when their gazes meet. Swaths of his skin light up in a blushing pink, giving away how happy he is. Laios was always, and would always be, an open book. He loves that about him.

      Chilchuck carefully made his way back down the rock, feet planted into the sand and pebbles and sea glass. He waded into the shallows, where the water was relatively warm. It wasn’t long until he was swimming, doing a bit of a pathetic doggy paddle to the base of the sea stack - and then one of those muscular arms gently wound its way around his torso, lifting him up out of the water and onto the little plateau. The routine was wound into them at this point, wordlessly slumping into one another as soon as he was able to reach his human half. Those big, strong arms wrapped around him, one hand coming down to pet along the drenched fur of his tail.

      He didn’t shake himself out like he wanted to. That was a bit too dog-like, for his tastes. Laios always laughed at him when he did it, with that soft, genuinely happy laugh.

      “Dork,” he mumbled, non-contextually. It earned a chuckle, vibrating through that broad chest.

      He’s pulled into a kiss, small and chaste, but sweet nonetheless. He curls his tail around the cecaelia’s hand, relaxing into his hold like always after he pulled away. That chest was the perfect pillow, letting him listen to his breathing, the beating of his heart. He knew it would sound different if he listened to it while the man was underwater, when he used his gills instead of his lungs. He found his body idly fascinating, but not as fascinating as Laios found his to be.

      The hand not occupied with his tail pressed softly against the back of his neck, thumbing across the muscles between his neck and shoulder. “You missed me,” he teased, curling one of those arms around his leg to hold him securely. He always wanted to completely surround him, hold him with everything he had. “That was… what, two days?”

      “Shut up,” he scolded, playfully. He smacked his bicep lightly, swatting at him like a fly. It just made the man laugh. His ears burned and he knew they were scarlet on the inside. He couldn’t help that Laios was the best thing going on in his life right now. His secret treasure. “I didn’t miss you, you were just annoying immediately. I mean, come on. You’re bright pink. I thought that the color change was for camouflage! Eedjit.”

      He laughed that sweet laugh again.

      “M’eudail.” He said it with the tone of an insult, a curse, even if it very much wasn’t, as he swatted him again. “Ye fuckin’ sook.”

      “You definitely missed me.” Laios was grinning, more of that oddly-textured skin flushing pink and red. “I can change the subject, though. Do you want to hear about a weird fish I caught the other day?”

      Chilchuck huffed, whiskers twitching. “Sure.”

      He could listen to him talk about just about anything for hours.

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

do you know if any fics or one shots where cooper is like a proper dick, very self centred and blaine doesn’t forgive him please? i love a good bit of drama! thanks !

The Klaine fandom tends to love Cooper, and he is redeemed in many fics, so it's hard to find some that he remains a proper dick in! Here are some where he does, or Kurt/Blaine's pov before they talk in BB. Any other suggestions would be great! ~ Jen

it takes a strong hand and a strong mind by worstthingiveeverdone

Blaine Anderson is fucked, to put it lightly.

He’s happily engaged to Kurt Hummel, but he hasn’t told his parents about the engagement.

Basically, a study of Blaine, Blaine’s family, and the way a house is not a home.

Title from Noah Kahan’s you’re gonna go far

~~~~~ I'm Not leaving by nerdy_writer_65

Set sometime during/after 'Big Brother' Kurt finds his boyfriend breaking down in the boy's locker room.

~~~~~

Truth Time, Cooper by Fettuccine_Anderhummel

A one-shot that happens in season 3, episode 15 (Big Brother).

Right before Kurt meets up with Blaine and gives him the stuffed animal and asks him to go talk to Cooper, Kurt bumps into Cooper on his way and gives him a piece of his mind. Canon Compliant.

~~~~~

Brothers by kirafumi

“No, it’s not a Broadway thing,” Blaine says flatly. “It’s a gay thing.”

~~~~~

Two au:

The Warbler Interview by @little-escapist

Kurt is very excited about his first assignment as a journalist: he’ll interview the new boy band sensation, the Warblers. It means he’ll get to talk to the most handsome man alive, Cooper Anderson.

But once Kurt meets the band – Cooper, sarcastic Sebastian, boy-next-door Sam, and Cooper’s brother Blaine – it’s the younger Anderson that steals his heart over the course of a single night.

~~~~~

Barking Up the Wrong Bakery by maanorchidee @forabeatofadrum

Kurt is the biggest dog party planner in Los Angeles. When his usual dog bakery cancels on Kurt, he’s in the dire need of a last minute replacement. Luckily, he comes across the Dalton Doggy dog bakery, which is run by Blaine and Cooper Anderson. Cooper’s a mess, but Blaine manages to charm Kurt. Will Kurt be able to keep it professional?

[fountainpenguin]

Small 'Fic Posting News

I moved a lot of early FOP character studies and warm-ups to my unrevealed Riddle WIPs collection on AO3, so they're easily on hand for me to tag and post when I feel ready.

A lot of these are things I enjoyed, but didn't feel comfy sharing back in 2016/17. They're cool to look back on and I'm ready to let them go. Some are suggestive, some are emotionally intense, some are very simple character studies, so as always, tread with care.

I also think they're neat because they don't build on each other, so they're pretty low-brainpower reads (imo), which some people may like.

I don't expect to post one of these old things every week, but they'll probably show up on Mondays or Wednesdays or something like that (Once Life of a Loser stops posting on Wednesdays, which is in two weeks).

As per the norm, M and E works will be under the ScarletPenguin pseud, so if you know that's not your cup of tea and you see the email, you can delete it without needing to open it or check tags.

These old pieces will be exclusive to AO3 (Organization, easier for my brain, etc.) On the off chance anything becomes a Prompt, it will go on FFN.

Not planning to do Tumblr announcements or cover images for them. They're off to the side for the people interested. Might shout out a few favorites, though.

AO3 series to subscribe to or avoid at your preference:

🌈 Rainbow Train - All FOP 'fics that aren't 130 Prompts (i.e. It will include these old pieces). 🖤 Off the Rails - Stuff that doesn't fit my main AUs (Cloudlands, City Lights, Reedfilter). Most old pieces will go here since they're non-canon now. ❤️ Red Train - Romantic or sensual works (All FOP AUs).

Additional reminder:

🚂 130 Reasons Why I'm Fairy Trash - Everything in this one-shot series is G or T. If you feel uneasy about Rainbow Train, you can filter M and E stuff out by subscribing just to this one!

Under the cut, I have examples (i.e. screenshots of these WIP titles and summaries like what you would see when scrolling AO3) to help people get a feel for the vibe.

Suggestive or gross summaries & commentary; proceed at own discretion. Obviously, #ridspoilers.

Reminder - These are WIP screenshots. The pieces will have proper tags and meta before they're posted. Titles may also change.

Bonus disclaimer: If you see a line in an old WIP that seems familiar... I do yoink things from these sometimes because I wasn't planning to post them, yes <3

This will be the first one:

Exactly what it says on the tin- Super simple.

Here are a few more examples (No specific order)-

A scene from Frayed Knots I've always regretted cutting even though it was for the best, but y'know what? It deserves to be shared because it's funny :)

Another moment from canon translated into my style! There's also a "Flappy finds out Gary and Betty knew about magic the whole time" bit somewhere in here that I had to throw out after "Solo" happened.

I will not apologize for my deity break-up drama. I might apologize for Prince Thursday's seasonal torment, but he's the nature spirit of Leaves, so-

Unpleasant non-con / dubcon situations... We know how this goes.

And the obligatory sequel to the above. That pixie sure can character arc!

Very cursed flirty pixies, my beloved...

Do you have any idea how weird it feels to post pre-reincarnation pieces out of context... skldjf...

It's gross! It's goofy! Cupid's ancestors took her mobility aid because they're unpleasant people! We just keep winning!!

Uncut version of the Ambrolara scenes! I sadly cut some of my favorites lines from "Hate That I Love You" because it would've crossed the line... but I love them....... my cursed OCs who are awful for each other.

No one understands Sanderson's mind, not even me 7 years later... He can do whatever he wants forever.

Foop's romantic scenes during the late-Prompts era are some of my favorite warm-ups... He's here, he's queer, he's having a mental breakdown spitting and crying over his dad not noticing him sneaking in a girl, he was forced to marry someone he desperately does not want to be intimate with, he loves his mom, he's losing the power struggle against his alt personality, he's this close to losing his inheritance, he calls his wife his mistress's name... No one is doing it like him. Probably because he's doing SO bad!!

The preview scene you see in "Trouble Beyond Paradise" finally broke me... It's been a favorite since 2017 and I just really want to share... That one's a multi-chapter and I hope you guys like it. I love Foop/Anti-Marigold and their weird situation... Like, of COURSE if Poof has severe anxiety about accidentally forcing them into dubcon, Foop's genius idea is to get the first time over with before Poof/Goldie can bind them into it. So funny. They are silly little guys... the people have a right to know...

Very old anatomy study. It's about bees ripping apart when they mate. It's... sort of cute? Mostly horrific and full of pain and sobbing? :'D If you pick this up, you will very quickly see why I never intended to post it, but... It's 2024, baby! Welcome to my mind...

- This one will likely get a new title, so be careful if this is one you want to avoid. - Where is that post that goes like "Why do all my ace friends write the most bizarre sex scenes?" followed by "Have to throw in something interesting for us." sdfkj. Yeah... It's me, I'm that guy. And this kind of guy.

And more!! I hope you like reading these old pieces, but if they are not your thing, that is perfectly fine. Some of these are not even my thing, but sometimes you have to write it to know that! Sometimes you knew that and wrote it anyway because ??? idk.

I think it's neat to see my style change over the years. I hope you get some joy out of them, even if they're hyperspecific.

[synchodai]

hello! loved your meta on inheritance and i have a question for you. haven’t even started this as a proper fic yet, mostly playing around in hypotheticals, so stick with me here! but i’ve been sketching out an au where rhaenyra transitions - both out of a personal non-binary inclination and in the hopes it will ease her acceptance as heir. other details include marrying alicent & daemon sperm donation but the actual QUESTION i had, lol, was: assuming prince rhaenyra is the accepted heir in this scenario, and he has two daughters, the elder of whom is not suited to/desiring the throne (probably helaena) and the younger of whom (probably my version of visenya?) is…. how would you, like. advise them as a family to move forward with that? what could they do to support both of their daughters, esp w regard to like… things viserys failed to do for rhaenyra?

and also, who would people suggest instead of their daughters to rule?

please feel free to ask follow ups i have described this so hastily and so late at night lol

Oh gosh, succession with trans heirs/monarchs is very interesting to speculate on. But judging by the details here, I'm gonna answer this based on these following scenarios:

SCENARIO #1: No one knows that Rhaenyra is trans. They have lived their life fully as a man and the fact that they don't have a cock is not known to anyone but their immediate family. Their secret is never uncovered.

This is the sneaky scenario, where all established rules of male-preferred primogeniture would be followed as normal save for the minor issue that the crown prince secretly doesn't have a cock. If the secret is never uncovered it the fic, there are several straightforward ways to have Visenya, the younger daughter, be heir over Helaena, the eldest.

Make Helaena a septa or silent sister: This is the most obvious choice and least disruptive to the monarchy's stabilty. Septas and silent sisters take vows of celibacy and take no titles, so this would be the female equivalent of making a son take the black/be a kingsguard/become a maester.

Banishment: Other methods of disinheritance would be to banish Helaena (she'd have to be accused of a crime worthy of it) or having Helaena herself run away (what Aegon II wanted to do in the show).

Witenagamot: This is what Jaehaerys I did and is basically the most fraught and complicated option because it's the monarch ceding power to their vassals. Viserys's mistake was expecting his vassals to just let him bend the law without any concessions on his end. Compare that to Jaehaerys who gave the power of choosing his heir to a council that had a pool of claimants to choose from. Any law only works if a society agree to follow and enforce it, so if you want to upturn an established law (like primogeniture in this case), you'll need the backing of many powerful people to go along with it lest you be branded a tyrant. However, beware the unintended consequences of giving more power to your vassals — it may start getting into their heads to collectivize, rebel, and/or usurp the current reigning monarch.

Tyranny: A monarch can always enforce their will through violence and subjugation. If someone questions Visenya's ascension, then simply punish them to make them shut up. This isn't recommended though, since it leads to riots, rebellions, coups, and just overall instability. (Oh, and it's kinda evil too.)

Murder: It's an option.

SCENARIO #2: Everyone knows Rhaenyra does not have a cock but are mostly okay with it.

In this scenario, Rhaenyra would be seen by most of the people in Westeros as a cross-dressing woman. There would be a loud portion of the population who are scandalized by this, but by itself, it's not necessarily a dealbreaker to them inheriting the throne. However, Alicent would never be acknowledged as queen because same-sex marriage does not exist in Westeros. Any children she has with Daemon will be considered bastards and not part of Rhaenyra's issue.

SCENARIO #3: Rhaenyra's being trans is never discovered but Helaena and Visenya being Daemon's biological children is.

In this case, both Helaena and Visenya will be removed from the line of succession for being bastard-born. However, Rhaenyra (or whoever is the monarch) can legitimize them, making them Daemon's children. This still wouldn't make them Rhaenyra's heirs as it would put them behind Daemon in the line of succession.

------

I'm assuming your fic is going with scenario #1, so I put the most detail there. If you were to ask me what Rhaenyra could do to avoid the mistake Viserys made, I would simply advise them to make Helaena septa (like her great-grandaunt Maegelle Targaryen). Once she becomes initiated as septa, she can return to the Red Keep if she wants to, since septas are not cloistered and are often part of highborn families' household. The only things Helaena loses (other than her claim to the Iron Throne) is the chance to get married, bear children, and own land. If for some reason Helaena doesn't want to be septa, that's only when I would go for the other more convoluted options.

Hope this answers your question! Good luck with your fic~

[writingwenches]

OC breakdown — Cinda's ladies-in-training

Writing the next part of my Lyn fic Freedom From, where Lyn is introduced to the first bits of "Lady Life" and the harsh realities of being a courtly woman, its not all just fluff and overindulgences. So, I wrote a breakdown of what I have so far for the other ladies. They are very recent creations, so hopefully I'll flesh them out more as I write them. Always here for suggestions, inspiration and such~

setting: So, I'm thinking that the "Court" life at Casterly Rock has been legendary for centuries, but in this AU Alicent opens up King's Landing wanting the largest court in the known world, so even with the Lannisters serving on the small council, the Westerlands Houses aren't super eager to live down in the capital, so Cinda has taken on a score of women to make smart matches for to show the Westerlands it could be possible as a place to flourish in society. or something like that.

Filippa Banefort, from Banefort, the lands in the Westerlands that guard against the Ironborn from the North.

The Horse Girl-archtype. Banefort's lands are a lovely, small peninsula with great land for horse riding. Filippa would always prefer to be outside somewhere with the animals, animals don't have the same complicated problems of people. Her childhood dream is to marry into a house far far away, so she would always be traveling from one place to another, her dream would be to always on the road. Her nightmare is her future husband locking her away in a tower, and not letting her leave. Her father could be the Lord Banefort, or a second+ son Ser. It would be fun to have him inherit the title in his older years, but he could just be a wealthy landed knight. siblings: the only/one of the only children of her father that looks like him. He was away fighting the majority of her life, and when her mother bore children, father never questioned it. She has siblings that are of different races, but they don't look "Iron Born" so everyone is quietly chill about it. Father is fine with having many sons. Filippa is the only daughter allowed to "go to court" because she looks the part of a Banefort.

"Lady" Bette Harlaw, from the isle of Harlaw in the Iron Islands, a ward of House Banefort after defeating their house in a great sea battle.

The Dolphin Girl-archtype. The water sign. Mermaid coded. She was raised by a powerful mother and father on the Iron Islands, she learned to sail and fight at a young age. She was the eldest daughter. She was young when she was on the ship, her parents said her brothers had already been fighting at the young age. When House Harlaw lost their battle to House Banefort, little Bette was taken as ward to grow up with their daughter, Filippa. Her nickname eventually becomes Lady. She learns to act like a proper lady, even if Filippa doesn't always act like one. House Banefort hates all things Iron Born, so Lady represses her upbringing and embraced all things womanly to please her new captures. Lord/Ser Banefort was always off fighting some war, so she was always at the mercy of Lady Mother Banefort. I haven't thought much about Mother Banefort's personalty yet, it could go so many ways. The Mother Banefort dies when Filippa and Lady are in their mid-teens. Lord Branfort ages, ages out of his fighting and warring ways of youth. He slowly appreciates a slower life at home in his castle in front of a warm earth. In young adulthood, Lady seduces Lord/Ser Banefort and eventually becomes the new Lady Banefort and lives her a quiet life. siblings: she is the eldest girl, maybe second child, but probably third. She has many younger sisters. Some of the sisters are okay fighting and warring, while others are weaker and meeker and need her help to escape them from the terrors of the Iron Island for those who are deemed weak. Mother Banefort will not accept bringing more girls from the family over, so Lady sends them money and help when she can. Cinda probably helped one get married to a seemingly proper Northern man? It's not a perfect marriage, but she's physically safe (outside of childbirth whoops).

Cordelia Lannister, from Casterly Rock, born of the second son of many Lord Lannisters past, he eloped with the love of his life, a distant cousin Lannister of Lannisport, much to the shock and dismay of his family.

The one with great parents. Cordelia's parents tell her that if she ever does anything bad, or is in trouble, or is set to marry a horrible horrible man, her mother and father will run away to Essos with her, and they will start a new life. "I will sell fish by the docks, and your mother will wash sheets," said Tym Lannister, uncle to the current Lord Jason Lannister. "We will find a way to survive," he consoled his daughter after some tragic news. "No, Mother will dance!" Cersillia said, throwing her hands up and twirling around the room, making her daughter smile. siblings: Cordelia is an only child. The relationship between Tym and Cersillia is for laughs at asoiaf incest tropes. So, they married late, probably both's second marriage. The Maesters advised against having children because of their "close familial relation" so they did some christian family planning until Cersillia was "obviously too old to bare children"...they went a lil crazy and had Cordelia. whoopsies. They love her so so so much.

Anna Grace Reyne, fom Castamere for feels. (tw: suicide)

The Emo/Goth-archtype. She had a lovely upbringing at home with her mother while her elder sister was away learning to be a proper lady with Cinda Lannister. Her sister was set to marry a seemingly wonderful man, that Cinda set her up with, she was to be her first great success story. A few days after the engagement was announced, the girl jumped from a high tower to her death. No one really knows why. Anna Grace blames Cinda for her sister's death. Anna Grace was surprised by the visceral hatred shown by her mother and father at the choice of suicide by her sister (who needs a name...). Anna Grace used to love her mother, but then she turned sour and unempathetic, openly complaining about their house's money problems that her sister's marriage could have solved. Anna Grace is fighting against her own happy ending, and happiness of any kind. If she pushes people away, never love again, she will never get hurt. Finding her ending is going to be fun, I picture her in some sort of unconventional relationship that, on the outside, seems like a bad thing, but she is very compatible with and can easily find happiness if she lets herself. BUT could also easily shove everything away and ruin it easily. Any ideas and opinions are always welcome! siblings: she might not have a brother, her father might not have a male heir, which leaves their marriage extremely salty as the years go by. Anna Grace could be the only sibling left, or she might have a much younger sister(s) that she wants nothing to do with.

Heather Oakheart, from Old Oak in northern The Reach.

The Knight Super Fan. Like many girls from The Reach, she is a huge fan of all things Knights and Knighthood. She dreams of one day marrying a knight, but her father seems to want to sell her to the higher (and seemingly most unvirtuous) bidder. She keeps a binder/book of Knight Cards of something similar. She has a great scribe talent, that will most likely never be realized. She is probably the fastest and most accurate hand in Westeros, if only there were competitions for that. She might have a newsletter that she sends a group of Ladies in The Reach. Always up on the gossip of everything everywhere all at once. Heather and Lyn will become quick "friends" because Lyn is personal friends with "Red Ryver" the notoriously brutal Knight of the Northern Riverlands, who's legend/rumors are spreading in ridiculous ways. ((and let's not forget Oswalt Frey's huge hog, which Lyn has seen in person and it causes quite the stir amongst the "properly raised" ladies and tbh it's talked about so so much throughout the story rip)) siblings: Middle Child™ she has two older siblings that are not married to knights, so she's pretty depressed about it. She has two younger siblings that she feels that she is responsible for and always need to set a good example for them...even if they are weeks travel away.

[bluegekk0]

what kinds of nicknames does the au family use? I'm kinda assuming that The Couple has like a million nicknames for each other

I'll start with the two gays cause you're right, they have the most nicknames. And I haven't really thought much about nicknames for the others, so we'll see how that goes haha

Grimm definitely uses nicknames all the time, especially for FPK. There's Dear Wyrm, My Wyrm, Beloved Wyrm, basically anything that's his name with an affectionate adjective before it. There's Darling, Love/My Love, Sweetheart/Sweetie is another one he says often, there's even an occasional Baby. Then there's other nicknames. I really like the idea of him calling FPK Dumpling lovingly, just to emphasize his softness and round shapes, in a way that reminds FPK that Grimm absolutely loves him in every shape and form. And of course, he has plenty of suggestive nicknames for him as well, and those are sure to make FPK blush like crazy. Generally he keeps coming up with new affectionate names for him, and there's so many that no one in the family can keep up. I imagine there were many situations where Hornet heard him say a completely new one and was like "did you seriously just call him that?". She just doesn't get it...

FPK unfortunately isn't as creative with nicknames, he can't possibly match the sheer creativity Grimm offers him, and he usually resorts to just saying his name and usually adding a loving adjective in front of it. Dear Grimm and My Grimm are the ones he uses the most often, though if he's feeling inspired he may say something along the lines of My Flame, but that's very rare. He'll also call Grimm Love frequently, though usually in the "Grimm, Love" format. Grimm really likes hearing his name in FPK's voice, and the latter definitely noticed. No need for FPK to use his creative juices when just purring Grimm's name is enough to get the other's full attention.

Hornet doesn't use many affectionate nicknames, she calls FPK Dad, and everyone else with their name. Though she does call Zote many nicknames. Buffoon is part of her daily vocabulary at this point and it's all thanks to him. Imbecile hits hard, but she really likes Blockhead in particular. Bonehead is another one she uses, but Zote keeps arguing that she's just stating a fact. He's not the brightest. As for what nicknames others call her, there's Dear Hornet, the most frequent one used by FPK, and he used to call her My Baby Girl when she was young (she thinks it's embarrassing). Grimm used to call her Little Spider, and he still does it jokingly now. Zote often bites back in response to her insults and mockingly calls her Princess, which usually earns him a mouth full of puddle water. Holly often refers to her with Dear Sister in writing, though she prefers if they just say her name.

Holly doesn't really use nicknames either, mainly since they can't speak, though they sometimes call the family members with affectionate adjectives in writing. Mostly Dear, though. It's something FPK used to say a lot when they were growing up in the palace, particularly towards WL and other important bugs in the court, but I like the idea of him slipping one time and calling them Dear Vessel. So that stuck with them, and now they use it all the time to refer to others. Dear Father, Dear Grimm (though they do sometimes refer to him as their father) and so on. Even Zote gets called Dear Zote by Holly, though he always tells them to scribble that out and instead call him by his proper title, Zote the Mighty. Holly also gets affectionate names from both FPK and Grimm, there's the classic Dear Holly coming from FPK, though he often emphasizes their relationship by calling them My Child, My Sweet Child, or anything like that. Grimm also frequently calls them My Child, Sweet Holly or Flower.

Zote mainly uses insulting nicknames, usually in his squabbles with Hornet. And he gets pretty creative with it. He sometimes calls Holly Nuts and Bolts referring to their scrap arm, though it's noticeably less hostile than his usual nicknames, plus Holly doesn't mind it. He once called Grimm Wacko Vampire which made him laugh for a good minute. FPK doesn't get his own nickname, but Zote always calls him Your Crazy Dad when talking to Hornet. Hornet gets Princess thrown at her in a mocking way like mentioned earlier, and there's probably other names he calls her that I'm not creative enough to come up with now. The kids are mostly safe from insulting nicknames, though he called Lewk a Mangy Varmint once when telling him to stop chewing on his cloak. He also gets some nicknames from the others. Excluding the ones Hornet calls him, there's Little Jester coming from Grimm, for example.

Lewk often calls his dads Papa or simply Dad, though when specifying who he's talking to, he'll often add their name at the front, so Grimmdad and Wyrmdad. The others he calls by their names.

Asta and Milo can barely speak and have trouble pronouncing the names, so they just say Papa when trying to get the attention of Grimm or FPK. Just like Lewk, they try to call the others using their names, Holly is the easiest for them to say, the rest they just mumble while trying to get them right.

[francis-writes]

95 cazador szarr !! (the worst man)

A/N: I love your choice lol It was a bit complicated because it's basically a chant for Odin, reciting his many names and titles (Wise One, Wolfspeaker, God of the Hanged, Pale One, Attacking Rider etc) so I decided to make au where Cazador manages to ascend and you are his consort (but in all honesty, you feel more like a humble worshipper)

Living with Cazador, even as his lover, was never easy and normal person could hardly call it a relationship. But when he promised to make you his consort after ascension, for a little moment you hoped that something would change for the better. That you would get more respect, and - what’s more important - feel safer in his palace.

Of course, all hopes fell apart.

Sure, Cazador reached his godhood. Everyday he gained new powers and abilities. As his consort, you lived like royalty. Other spawns respected you, mostly out of fear of Cazador. You didn't need to worry about landing in the dungeons or getting tortured... at least as long as you obeyed your Master. Who seemed to be more emotionally distant from you each day.

Cazador Szarr never was a partner you could have a heart-to-heart conversation with, but before he was at least normal person. Undead but still made of blood and flesh. He was your powerful Master but he still could be hurt, he still seemed to have human emotions. Now he only focused on expanding his power and building his empire. Carnal pleasures now interested him less than constant meetings with gods or Hell lords. Now you were less afraid for your own fate, than worried what his intrigues can bring upon you both.

At this moment, you were laying in your shared bed, and observing Cazador leaning over some letter. You slept with him as his spouse but if you could, you would spend that time anywhere else. You were afraid to move and break this silence as if you were in some temple during adoration.

Eventually you pulled yourself together and asked in a quiet gentle voice:

"Master?"

No matter how close you were, you didn't feel like it was proper to call him by his name, especially, when he became something god-like. Cazador himself never suggested that you could adress him different so you prefered not to risk his reaction.

He looked up from the document.

"Yes, pet?"

"Can I... somehow help you? Do you have any command for me, Master?"

He smiled but it didn't comfort you a little bit.

"I'm grateful for your devotion but there's nothing you could help me with"

He stood up, came closer to bed and took your face in his cold hand, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

"You're my beloved consort but you wouldn't understand things I am now invested in. It's too much for the mortal minds... your only duty now is to stay by my side forever. And never go against my will"

[j-nipper-95]

An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

Thank you for the tags @artsyunderstudy @iamamythologicalcreature @aristocratic-otter @shrekgogurt @wellbelesbian @theearlgreymage and @ic3-que3n

I am definitely procrastinating on both my WIPs at the moment. Trails is back in limbo, and ASR has taken up permanent residence there recently, and I desperately want to get back to both of them. Here's hoping this will kick start something in my brain! I do love a good Q&A, so let's dive in!

1. 🦈 Tell us the name of your/one of your WIP(s):

I have two WIPs I am actively writing, and one I haven't started on yet, but desperately want to. The Trails We Blaze was my Carry On Through the Ages 2023 fic, and is a The Road to El Dorado!au. Then there's my original novel, A Survivor's Revenge, which I've been writing for far too long and it definitely needs to be published soon!

2. 🍄 Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of "___ + ___ = ___"

Ok, this is much harder than I thought it would be, there's so many elements to each of these WIPs, so bare with me.

Trails: con men in 1920s London find map to Atlantis + WW1 trauma + gang warfare + repressed romantic feelings = friends to lovers action, adventure, and chaos across western Europe that's probably been too intensely researched for the sake of historical accuracy

(Side note: this isn't how I thought I'd use my degrees in history and archaeology, but here we are!)

A Survivor's Revenge: marvel cinematic universe + James Bond = ASR

or - what would happen if Bucky wasn't brainwashed by Hydra and sought revenge on the scientists who experimented on him, was a 14 year old school girl instead of a grown man, and had elemental powers + MI6 super spies and the general aesthetic of a Bond movie = a stab first/ask questions later FMC willing to do whatever it takes to keep her loved ones safe (and I do mean whatever it takes - Lauren hasn't baulked at anything I've thrown at her yet).

3. 🌍 What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it.

ASR will definitely need some trigger warnings for violence (if only because of Lauren's penchant for it), and if it were being posted to AO3 the series as a whole would probably require a 'main character death' warning. This is your formal warning, no one is safe in my writing.

Trails is rated M, so there's not going to be anything too graphic or explicit, but it does have a PTSD tag, as the fic tackles both Baz and Simon's trauma from living through the First World War, and specifically Baz's claustrophobia. So I would probably warn about the panic attacks and discussion of how Baz became claustrophobic.

4. 🧭 An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?

Neither of these had alternative titles other than my save names (Spy Novel and SnowBaz fanfic) before I decided on anything. I'm useless at coming up with titles, and I can't really claim full credit for either. A friend from uni came up with A Survivor's Revenge, which is really fitting, as revenge is a major theme in the book. And The Trails We Blaze is a reference to one of the songs from the movie The Road to El Dorado, and was Ashton's suggestion when we were bouncing ideas back and forth last year.

5. ⚠️ Which WIP you're most likely to finish or update next?

Trails will definitely be finished before ASR, purely because ASR is going to be published as a proper book, and I don't have the cash to do this independently, or the publishing deal to do it traditionally. So I know this will take time. But I am currently working on the next chapter of Trails, so hopefully it won't be too long before I can post it.

6. 💾 What is your document of your WIP/a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you've saved it as)

I have so many variations of both WIPs it's ridiculous. I swear there's been 100+ iterations of ASR over the years, all with variations on either A Survivor's Revenge/ASR or Spy Novel as their title.

With Trails I have my base document, which is where the rough first draft happens, in Scrivener: the trails we blaze - draft copy. And then I also have my final document in pages, where I fix the formatting ahead of exporting to AO3 (because AO3 hates it when I do it straight from scrivener and gets rid of all my italics!): the trails we blaze upload copy.

7. 🖍 Post any sentence(s) from your WIP.

This is probably one of my favourite exchanges in the first ASR book.

“Just like old times,” Lauren said. “Tell me, did you consciously decide to make my PTSD worse by assigning him to me, or was that a happy accident?” “What’s the diagnosis?” Vanessa asked, ignoring Lauren. “Fractured ribs, minor internal abdominal bleeding, concussion, and three broken fingers. She needs to rest for at least a week,” Todd said. “She has a name,” Lauren muttered. “The internal bleeding is minor for the moment, but won’t be if she doesn’t rest.” “Who’s ‘she’ in this, the cat’s mother? I am here, you know.” “Yes, and whilst I would love to trade witticisms with you, I do actually have a job to do. Part of which involves divulging a diagnosis, and pardon me if I feel certain people in this room are going to be more receptive and actually take my advice when I give it.” Lauren glanced at Vanessa. “Is he always like this?” “Just with patients. And most of the people who work here.” “So, everyone?” Vanessa thought for a moment, then bobbed her head from side to side in a movement that said Pretty much, yeah. “If we’re quite done discussing my conduct, I do actually have other patients who need my attention.” “Poor sods.” “Yes, of course,” Vanessa said, ignoring Lauren’s comments. “Have you got a treatment plan sorted?” “I’m nothing if not professional.” “Did someone switch the definition of ‘sarcastic asshat’ and ‘professional’ in the dictionary when I wasn’t looking?” Todd twisted ever so slightly away from Lauren, instead focusing entirely on Vanessa.

8. ♻️ A scrapped idea for your current WIP.

Initially in ASR Lauren was framed for the murder of a student, alongside releasing the main villain from prison (not a spoiler, it's literally in my synopsis, no worries there!), and afterward she was forced to go on the run. Essentially, it made the heads of MI6 and Lauren's best friends into her enemies for a few chapters of my drafts a couple of years back. I loved this idea, and genuinely want to implement something along these lines again, because it was an interesting position to put the characters in, but I also really love where the plot is taking them currently, so we'll see if it truly ends up remaining scrapped or not.

9. 🤔 What's a story you'd love to write but haven't even started yet?

Another original novel, this time firmly rooted in science fiction (no superhero/light fantasy elements here), where time travel is possible, but the super anxious MC refuses to use his powers to travel back in time because of the side effects of said power. Gay romance, anxiety, angst, all the good stuff!

10. 🤡 How many WIPs are you actively working on?

I'm not too active on either of my WIPs at the moment. Work's been crazy lately, and I flip between feeling super burnt out creatively and being too tired to do much. But Trails and ASR continue to be my most active WIPs.

11. 🛠 Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

In Trails I've hit an intimate scene, and my little ace brain doesn't know how to approach it! Plus, I don't know how far I can stretch the M rating before we enter E territory.

12. ❤️ Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.

All of the kudos to everyone! I wish there was a way to leave it more than once, because seriously, the CO fandom is so unbelievably talented, my God!!

Tagging (sorry if you’ve already done this):

@blackberrysummerblog

@orange-peony

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe

@palimpsessed

[fitrahgolden]

Hold My Hand, I'll Walk With You: A Weary Memory Prequel

 [NOTE: This is a short prequel to my previous story, Weary Memory. You don’t need to have read it (but you should know that in this AU the timeline of their parents’ deaths is very different from canon). This is simply a very fluffy “when Kate met Anthony” story.

Title is from “Little Talks” by Of Monsters and Men, lyrics by Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir and Ragnar Þórhallsson.]

Kate knew she should get back to socialising. She’d been having a genuinely good time at her first house party since moving to Oxford a few weeks ago. She mingled. She danced. She got loads of unsolicited advice from older students.

She'd taken a break from the nonstop conversations and stationed herself next to the chocolate fountain because, well, she wasn't expecting a chocolate fountain at a university party, and now the delicious setup was too good to abandon.

She was deciding between pineapple, strawberry, and angel food cake when a voice beside her broke through the homogenised hum of the party.

“I’d go with the pineapple,” he said, his tone suggesting he thought he was really helping her out.

Kate looked up and observed the stranger through narrow eyes before plucking a strawberry from the tray. She made a show of holding the fruit underneath the flowing chocolate, then stepped aside and waved a hand towards the space in front of the buffet she’d just vacated.

“Be my guest,” she said with a supercilious smile before taking a bite. She hadn’t meant to be this bold, keeping eye contact with a handsome man while eating a chocolate covered strawberry. Perhaps she was pulling it off, if the way he looked back at her was any indication. At least she managed not to roll her eyes back and moan like a proper seductress.

He looked away from her to pay attention to the spread, and Kate took the opportunity to shake herself out of whatever had moved her to be so brazen. She sipped the dregs of her drink and avoided watching him eat, but looked back at him just in time to see him lick some chocolate off of his thumb. Oh, give me a break.

“Can I help you with anything? Get you another drink?”

Kate shook her head, placing her glass down. “No, I’m good for now.”

He nodded, apparently losing none of the confidence he seemed to have a bit too much of. “Are you here with anyone?”

“One of my housemates.” Kate looked beyond him to quickly survey the room. “Well, she's here somewhere. She knows someone who knows…um, whose ever flat this is.”

“Bert Fife and Caleb Cho,” the man provided helpfully.

“Ah. I take it that you actually know them?”

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t, but yes. You, uh… You danced with Caleb earlier, actually.”

“Ha, did I really?”

“Yeah.” He pointed out the man in question across the room.

“Oh, him. Right. What a slag. I'll dance with anyone. Names are optional.”

“I wasn't–I mean…” He suddenly looked sheepish. “I just happened to notice you before. And now, I guess. You're very…noticeable.” The loss of some of his swagger was kind of adorable to witness.

“Am I?”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Which makes me think this must be your first year. Or maybe you're a transfer, a Cambridge escapee? I haven't seen you around.”

Kate could not have stopped the laugh that bubbled out of her if she tried. “You haven't seen me around? That's hardly surprising in a sea of thousands of students, is it?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“No. No, I suppose it's not.” A hint of a wince pulled at his lips.

“Would you like to try a different line? Perhaps one better suited for the environment?” Kate asked encouragingly.

“Oh, think I'm trying to chat you up, do you?” His casual tone was betrayed by the blush creeping up his neck and the tips of his ears.

Kate’s own confidence shook a bit. Could I really be misreading this? “Surely, you can understand why I'd think that.”

Anthony took an eager step towards her. “Oh, absolutely. Mostly because I am, but it doesn't seem to be going too well.”

“No, but not too poorly, either.” She touched his shoulder. He looked at her hand and back at her.

“Oh? Care to help me out at all?”

Kate dropped her hand, and picked up her empty glass for something to fiddle with. “You could just ask me my name. It's not terribly creative, but you’ll find I'm a fan of practicality over flair.”

“Ah. Very helpful, indeed.”

There were several beats where they said nothing, just looked at each other.

Kate bobbed her head in confusion. “Well?”

“I can't very well ask immediately after you tell me to, now can I?” His smile was sly.

With a roll of her eyes, Kate asked, “What's your name, then?”

“Wait– Are you chatting me up?”

“Possibly.” Kate shrugged, trying her damndest to remain breezy.

“I'm Anthony.”

“Anthony?” she asked, with a hard “th.”

He shook his head.

“Anthony,” he enunciated. “With a ‘ta.’“

The way Anthony exaggerated the consonant sound drew Kate's attention to his mouth and the way his tongue peeked out just a little from between his teeth. I wonder if that's a move. He has lines, so surely he also has moves. I bet that “with a ‘ta'” nonsense is the only reason he pronounces it that way. 

Kate realised too late her gaze was lingering on his mouth, looking up only once Anthony started smirking. And I totally fell for it, damn him.  

Anthony with a “ta” put a hand on the wall behind Kate, and his forearm brushed against her shoulder as he leaned forward. “Would you like me to demonstrate again? Up close this time?”

Kate rolled her eyes. Definitely a move. “No, thanks. I'm a quick study, Anthony.” She noted it must work both ways, judging by how Anthony's eyes darted down to her lips. “Sounds quite posh, pronounced the proper way. Suits you.”

“Why doesn't that sound like a compliment?”

Kate tilted her head to one side, and Anthony seemed to reflexively tilt his head the same way as his eyes stayed trained on hers. “Perhaps because it isn't.”

“Well, if your name isn't the epitome of humbleness, I'll be very disappointed.”

“Kate,” she said simply. “Unassuming enough for you?”

He didn’t respond immediately. His eyes were roaming her face. Once his gaze fell back to hers, he said, “I think it's beautiful. Suits you.”

Kate looked down at her feet, unsure how to respond to that.

“Did I just lose points?” The question was laced with genuine concern.

“No.” Kate shook her head and looked back up at Anthony. “No, that was…sweet. I'll reward you by telling you you were right.”

“I love hearing that.”

“I'm not even a little bit surprised.”

“What specifically am I right about, though?”

“I am a first year.”

“What are you going to study?”

“Fine art.”

Anthony lit up. “Oh, yeah? My brother’s in London at the Royal College of Art. He’s brilliant.”

“Oh, cool.” Please don’t try to set me up with you brother. “And what about you?”

“Creative writing.”

“Ooh, you’re a writer.”

“Eh, at this point calling myself a writer would be an insult to writers, I think. But, someday soon, I hope. My family owns a publishing company, so I’ll have a huge audience anticipating my failure.”

Kate furrowed her brows. “Not your family, surely.”

“No, no. My parents are…stiflingly supportive. I mean everyone else at the company. They’re certain I wouldn’t have a prayer without having my family to publish my work.”

Kate said nothing, but he must have read her face.

“You think they’re right,” he said, smiling.

Kate raised her hands, “Look, I don’t know you. You could be brilliant. But nepotism is alive and well, is all.”

Anthony nodded. “No, I understand. I can’t deny I’m in a very privileged position.”

“At least you’re aware. The bar is low, but that’s not nothing.”

Their conversation moved along easily, at a fast clip. Kate eventually felt comfortable enough to let Anthony get her another drink. About an hour later, they were still talking, side by side against a wall in the corner, their arms brushing.

“Hey,” Anthony whispered as he turned to look at Kate.

“Yes?”

“Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

A surprised laugh escaped her without her permission. Anthony seemed unfazed. He just continued to search her eyes with his, waiting.

“Yeah,”  Kate whispered. The room might have been too loud for Anthony to even hear her. “That would be alright.”

She leaned toward him and he met her in the middle. It was soft and tentative. Certainly softer than Kate thought he would kiss her, because she had definitely been thinking about it for the better part of their conversation, and hoped he had been to.

After the first careful meeting, Anthony put a hand up to Kate's jaw, slaying his fingers over her cheek and throat, but applying no pressure, not until his thumb pressed down just beneath her bottom lip, and Kate opened her mouth in response. It was too loud to hear their sighs and moans, so they relied on the accompanying vibrations for feedback. Presumably feeling the need to breathe, Anthony started to back away. Kate let him go, but not before nipping his bottom lip.

“...Kit,” he groaned.

Kate tutted, and their noses brushed as she shook her head. “And things were going so well. Already calling me the wrong name?”

“Never.” Anthony looked dazed. “No one calls you that?”

“No,” she laughed, bemused. “Why would they?”

“I don't know. It just…” He looked down at her lips and made a lazy path back up to her eyes. “...feels right.”

“Because your last Kate was called Kit?” It was a joke, but it sounded a bit too mean to her ears when she heard it come out of her mouth. Anthony didn't seem offended, though. Maybe there was a last Kate. His gaze was piercing when he responded. 

“As far as I'm concerned, no other Kate exists.”

Oh.

“I have to give it to you, being renamed after one kiss, that's a new one for me,” Kate said, trying to regain her footing.

“Me, too.” He absentmindedly twisted a lock of her hair around his finger, threatening to throw her right back off balance. “Can I keep calling you that?”

“I think…” Kate started, but cleared her throat when her voice sounded annoyingly breathless. “Whether I want you to keep calling me anything at all remains to be seen.”

“That's fair. I think you like it, though.” He was obviously quite pleased with himself.

“I…” Kate tried her best to muster a glare. “It remains to be seen,” she repeated weakly.

Anthony’s smile was warm. “May I take you somewhere?”

Kate’s eyebrows shot up. “Um… Where were you thinking?”

“The White Rabbit, have you heard of it? It’s close.”

While Kate thought about it, Anthony quickly added, “Or I could just drop you off at yours, and we could talk more on the way.”

“Let me see your licence.” Kate held her hand out as Anthony dutifully dug for his wallet. She exaggeratedly scrutinised the card. “Alright, Anthony…Bridgerton. I’d love some real food. I'm just gonna take a picture of you to send to my housemates.”

Anthony backed up so Kate could take a picture, but he kept making faces, and she couldn’t stop laughing.

“Stop posing!” Kate commanded. “Think of this as a passport photo.

“My passport photo is amazing, actually.”

“Ugh, shut up.” Kate sent the photo she deemed most appropriate to her housemates’ text thread.

>> Leaving the party with this bloke, Anthony Bridgerton. DO wait up.

Kate looked up from her phone to see Anthony looking at her, seemingly impressed.

“What?”

“I need to remember to tell my sisters to pick up the same habit.”

Kate nodded vigorously. “Please do. So, a brother and at least two sisters. How many siblings do you have?”

“Seven.”

“Fuck off.” Kate covered her mouth as Anthony barked out a laugh.“I mean, no disrespect to your parents, but…damn.”

—

Anthony was thankful that the pub wasn’t too busy. He led Kate to a booth and had to suppress a grin when Kate pulled him down to sit on her side. They didn’t move from their seats until it was closing time. 

“Let me take you home,” he said after he closed out their tab and they started walking towards the door.

Kate hesitantly took his hand, squeezing when he did.

“OK.”

—

It seemed unbelievable that they had more to talk about on the drive to her house, but they did. Along the way, Anthony inched his hand onto Kate’s thigh, smiling smugly to himself when she squirmed a little and rested her hand on top of his. Again, the time passed too quickly, and before he knew it, she was pointing out her house and he was pulling up to the curb.

“Can I have your number?” Kate asked as the car came to a stop, surprising him.

He laughed as he ran a finger under his bottom lip. “Damn, Kit. You beat me to it.”

“Is that a yes, then?” He’d say yes to anything if she smiled at him like that. He was sure of it.

“Yes, please.”

When Kate passed Anthony her phone, he chuckled when he saw she filled in his name as “Anthony with a ‘ta.’” Once they’d shared numbers, they sat in silence, looking at each other like idiots. Finally, Kate sighed.

“I’m gonna go.” There was no conviction in her voice. In fact, it almost sounded like a question.

“OK.”

“Thanks for dinner.”

“Thanks for letting me take you.”

More silence. The mood in the car was odd, but not uncomfortably so. Anthony just didn’t want the night to end yet, so she was going to have to make the first move.

And she did, but it was not the move he was expecting.

She leaned across the centre console, threw her arms around him, and kissed him.

It was hard to keep up with everything as it happened. Anthony slid his seat backward, too slow for Kate who was already clambering into his lap. He could feel her undoing the buttons of his shirt while he was preoccupied with pulling out the elastic that was holding most of her hair back. Anthony threaded his fingers through her tresses until he reached the nape of her neck. He gripped it tightly as his tongue slid across her lips and into her mouth. Kate whined, grinding down on him as she sucked on his tongue. He slid his other hand along the outside of her thigh, her skirt having almost completely ridden up to her waist, then he pulled back to gasp in some air.

“Can I come inside?” he asked before bringing their lips back together.

She sighed back at him. “No.”

He kissed her jaw, her neck, her shoulder.

“Can I take you to mine instead? I don’t have housemates.”

“Good to know, but not tonight.”

The sound he made was somewhere between a chuckle and a groan as he matched her grinding with his own.

“Tell me what I can do, then, Kit. Please,” he whispered into her hair.

She pulled back. They were both panting as she seemed to think about it. “You can call me Kit.” Her eyes sparkled playfully as she bit into her swollen lip.

“Good.” Both of his hands found her arse, and he kneaded it through the soft cotton material that covered it. “Anything else?”

“Text me,” she almost moaned.

He smiled as their foreheads rested against each other. “OK, I can do that.”

Kate brought both hands to Anthony’s face and brushed a finger across his lips, concentrating, perhaps debating something. “I really am going to go.” She looked up from his lips to his eyes.

“OK.” Anthony pulled her in for a kiss goodbye. She put a hand against his chest, as if it was a necessary measure to stop herself from falling back into him. After one last kiss to her temple, he let his arms fall to his sides. “Goodnight, Kit.”

Kate climbed out of his lap with as much grace as someone of her stature could manage in such a cramped space. She took a few moments to sort her clothes out before turning towards him.

“Goodnight, Anthony.”

With that, she was out of his chair and in a few steps, she was at her front door, keys in hand.

Anthony watched from his car. Turn around. Turn around.

Kate opened the door and disappeared. She hadn't turned around. He smiled to himself.

Next time. 

—

“This isn't a text.”

Anthony clinched his jaw as he held the phone against his ear. Kate’s voice was heavy and warm. He imagined her still in bed despite the late hour, like he was, and found himself very interested in what her bedroom might look like. Jesus Christ. A couple of words from her, and my cock is already twitching.

“Want me to hang up?” he asked.

“You wouldn't,” she haughtily challenged.

“I'd certainly hate to. Good morning, Kit.” Kit. He had no idea where that name came from last night, when he’d put his lips on Kate’s for the first time, but it felt good to say it. He’d chanted it over and over again when he got home last night and promptly finished what they’d started in his car.

“Good morning, Anthony with a ‘ta.’”

He could hear her smiling. This woman would be the death of him. Of that, he was certain.

“How did you sleep?” Don’t leave out any details.

“Not great.”

Anthony frowned. “No?”

“It's not a big deal. I'm used to it.”

There was something there, he could tell. “I'm sorry.”

“Thanks. Are you desperately trying to resist making a joke about helping me sleep?”

“It’s a bit early in the day for me to be desperate.” Tell that to your dick. “And Kit?”

“Yeah?”

“It wouldn't be a joke.” He was rewarded with a soft gasp. Anthony had gotten the impression that Kate was not often left speechless. “Let's go out tonight. Are you free?”

“You're serious?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“We just met yesterday.”

“Yes, I was there. And?”

“You really want to see me again so soon?”

What? He sighed, running his hand over his face in contemplation. “My gut tells me you aren't fishing for compliments–”

“I'm not!”

“Well, frankly,” he laughed, “that would be more believable than you actually being surprised that I want to go out with you. Last night was amazing. For me, anyway.”

“Me, too.”

Oh, thank fuck.

“Then I'll ask again. Can I see you tonight?”

“You can see me tonight.”

A knot in his stomach loosened. He'd never been this keen to go out with someone before. His brothers would have a field day with this.

—

Kate and Anthony settled on a walk through the botanical gardens then a film at the Ultimate Picture Palace. The theatre was relatively empty, and halfway through a movie they had both already seen, Anthony, who had been lightly running his fingers up and down Kate's neck, whispered into her ear.

“Would it be terribly cliché of me to kiss the fuck out of you right now?”

“Yes,” Kate hissed, trying not to laugh, a laugh that died as soon Anthony lightly grasped her chin and angled it towards him. 

“Can I do it anyway?”

Kate swallowed and nodded.

“Stay quiet, OK, Kit?”

Somehow, she did. They both did.

—

“Where to next?” Kate asked as they settled back into Anthony’s car.

“Oh, um…” Anthony was surprised, as it had felt like the night was winding down. “Am I taking you home?”

“You could…” Kate shrugged, “but if I remember correctly, which may not be the case as you were pulling down the neckline of my shirt with your teeth at the time, you said live alone.”

“I do,” Anthony confirmed, his voice strained.

“Granted, it’s been about twenty-four hours, but are you still interested in taking me to yours?”

“Very.” He’d answered so quickly, he surprised himself.

“Good.”

—

“I knew your place would be posh,” Kate teased as she took off her shoes and Anthony closed the door behind them.

He turned her around and pulled her so they were chest to chest. “Would you like a tour?”

She felt his hands sliding down her back and over her hips. “Yeah, I’d love one,” she said, unable to stop her giggle.

Anthony kissed his way along her jaw up to her ear before gruffly saying, “Then I’ll give you one tomorrow.”

Then his lips and teeth and tongue were mingling with hers as he pushed her backwards, walking her further into his flat. It didn’t take long before Kate was pressed up against a door. Her hands drifted down to Anthony’s belt, but before she could undo it, he grasped her wrists.

“Not yet, Kit,” he said in a rough whisper before bringing her wrists to his lips and kissing each one. He flashed her a roguish smirk as he sank to his knees before her. His expression changed to something tender and reverent. “Can I?” he asked, running a hand slowly up the inside of her leg.

Kate released a shuddering breath and nodded. “Yes.”

Anthony’s motions were fluid as he pushed her dress up, pulled her knickers down, and lifted a leg of hers onto his shoulder.

Soon, Kate was scrambling to hold on to the wall, the doorjamb, something, anything for support. With the hand that wasn’t teasing her clit, Anthony found and held on to one of Kate’s, intertwining their fingers and eventually guiding her hand into his hair. Kate obediently curled her fingers and held on. The moan that came from Anthony vibrated through her, to great effect.

“Use both hands if you need to,” he said before closing his mouth over her again.

She nodded vigorously as she combed her other hand into his hair, pulling when a manoeuvre of his surprised her in the best way possible, and she choked out a sob. When her climax hit her, she leaned over, and Anthony slayed a hand across her chest to hold her up as he rode her orgasm out with her, keeping up his attentions until Kate had to push him away, suddenly too sensitive to handle it. Kate wasn't a virgin, and a couple of guys had gone down on her in the past. But it had never been anything like that. Perhaps this was a perk of Anthony being three years older than her. Maybe it was a more significant age gap than she initially thought.

Anthony stood back up slowly, kissing her torso over her clothes until he was completely upright. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck.

“Can you walk?”

Even though his tone was sweet, Kate wanted to roll her eyes. But frankly, no, she couldn’t walk. “Mm-mm.” She shook her head lazily. “I live against this door now.”

Anthony chuckled–the smug bastard– as he took a step back and placed his hands firmly on her hips.

“Jump.”

“What?”

“I’ll carry you. Jump.”

Feeling just a little bit silly, Kate jumped, and gasped when Anthony slid his hands under her bum and pulled her up so her legs wrapped around his waist on instinct. Her arms went around his neck.

“Good girl.”

Anthony opened the door he had taken her up against, revealing his bedroom. Not that Kate was taking in much of her surroundings. She was still blissed out when he laid her down on his bed.

“Are you alright?” he asked, sat beside her on the mattress, tracing his fingers across her collarbones.

“Yeah. Why are you still dressed?”

He laughed and stood up. He held her gaze as he undressed.

He’s beautiful.

Once he was naked, he crawled onto the bed and encouraged Kate to sit up so he could pull her dress over her head, leaving just her bra, which she quickly got rid of with an air of confidence that she didn’t quite feel.

At first, they just looked at each other, letting their eyes wander. Then Anthony leaned towards the nightstand beside Kate and grabbed a condom out of the drawer. He tossed it onto the bed before taking Kate’s face in his hands and kissing her soundly.

“Come here,” he whispered.

Anthony pulled Kate up to her knees and guided her until she was straddling him. He kissed her again before reaching for the condom. Kate lightly grabbed his wrist.

“Can I put it on?”

Anthony smiled at her as he tore the packet open and handed it to her. Kate reached below herself and started stroking him. They were panting in time with her hand and Anthony vigorously shook his head. “Fuck, you’ve got to stop, baby. I’m ready.”

Kate rolled the condom on and sunk down onto him. As soon as she was fully seated, Anthony started moving. She cradled his head in her arms, muttering in Tamil as occasional expletives fell from Anthony’s mouth. Suddenly, he pushed her onto her back. He slammed into her faster and harder as he pinned her arms above her head.

“Is this OK?” he gritted out between his teeth.

Kate nodded.

“Kit?”

“Yes, fuck!”

Holding her wrists in one hand, Anthony used the other between her legs, moving it relentlessly until she was crying out again, turning into putty beneath him.  About a minute later, he followed suit, groaning, cursing, repeating her name–well, his name for her.

“Kit, Kit, Kit.”

—

Anthony was startled awake by the sound of clattering coming from his kitchen. A second clang was accompanied by a harsh, “Aiyoh!”

After donning some underwear and a pair of tracksuit bottoms, Anthony set off to find Kate. She was at his stove, wearing her bra and some gym shorts of his, cinched to within an inch of their life just above her hips. It was perhaps the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. Whatever mess she had made of the pots and pans had been cleaned up, the kettle was on, and Kate was leaning over a frying pan.

“I feel like I should be making you breakfast the first time you stay at my flat.”

The first time. He probably shouldn’t have said that. He didn’t want to scare her off. But if his phrasing bothered her, Kate was good at hiding it. She looked up and smiled at him.

“Well, consider yourself in my debt, then.”

“Gladly.” Anthony wrapped an arm around her waist and murmured into her ear. “How soon can I make it up to you?” Her hair was gathered at the top of her head, and he nuzzled her neck as his hands wandered until she took a step away from him.

“Don’t distract me, Bridgerton. The tea is already going to be shitty. I can't even approximate proper chai since all you have is peppercorns and stale cinnamon sticks.”

“Hey, how many twenty year olds do you know who have any whole spices at all?”

“Loads. I’m Indian.”

“Point taken. What are you making?”

“Hotcakes. I make amazing hotcakes. At least, I do when–”she smacked his hand away from her arse “–I don’t have a sex pest at my back.”

“Sorry,” Anthony laughed.

“No, you aren’t.”

“You’re right.”

“I usually am. You’ll learn.”

Anthony bit back a grin at the implication that he’d see her again. He grabbed one of the hotcakes off the plate and took a bite. Kate’s giant eyes got even bigger when she noticed.

“Wait, you need jam!”

Anthony took another bite to spite her. “No, I don’t. These are delicious, Kit.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Thanks. I actually prefer them to meetha pooda.” She paused and shook her head with a click of her tongue. “Itu aciṅkam,” she grumbled. “My mother would be so disappointed to hear that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” He kissed her temple.

“No need. She died seven years ago.” She immediately winced, as if she hadn’t meant to say that. Over the past two nights, Kate hadn’t given any details about her parents whenever they talked about their families.

“Oh, shit. Kit, I'm so sorry.” Anthony pulled her to him, and he felt her relax a bit in his arms. It didn’t last long, though. She quickly stepped away from him.

“Thanks,” she muttered as she turned her attention back to the stove, and rubbed her cheek in a huff.

Anthony couldn’t think of anything to say, and Kate didn’t seem to need him to say anything anyway, so he just leaned against the counter as she finished making breakfast, every offer to help being turned down. 

Her mood had lightened by the time they sat down to eat. While Anthony was doing the washing up, Kate went back into his bedroom. She came out shortly after, dressed and ready to go.

Anthony usurped her before she could put her shoes on and pulled her towards the couch.

“I can’t stay,” she whined, but she straddled his lap all the same.

“Why not?” Anthony rubbed her back as her arms went around his neck.

“Because if I don’t want my first year to be my only year, I need to study.”

“I’ll help you study,” he lied. Unsurprisingly, Kate wasn’t buying it.

“Conflict of interest. I think you're heavily invested in me not being productive.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he smirked as he kissed her.

Kate sighed, leaning into him. “Anthony.”

“Fine.” He leaned back against the cushions, but kept a grip on her hips. “At least let me drive you back to your house.”

Kate shook her head. “I looked it up. It’s a long walk, but it's a nice morning for it.”

Anthony arched an eyebrow at her. “You know you’re too sore for a long walk.”

“Arrogant twat.”

“Please, Kit.” He squeezed her waist.

She tried to glare at him before breaking into a grin.

“OK.”

—

This time, when Anthony watched from his car as she walked to her front door, Kate turned around. 

Damn. I'm in trouble. 

He could not wait. 

—

[NOTE: Please read Weary Memory if you’d like an actual story with this version of Kate and Anthony.]

[cadmusfly]

Who Is A Dragon In Marshalate Dragons AU Because Making All The Infantry Marshals Dragons Is Too Much Scales

Post 1

Post 2

Marshals

Dragons: Berthier, Lannes, Soult, Masséna, Lefebvre, Mortier, Oudinot, St Cyr

Humans: Bernadotte, Augereau, Brune, Moncey, Perignon, Serurier, MacDonald, Poniatowski, Jourdan, Murat, Ney, Davout, Kellerman, Suchet, Victor, Marmont, Grouchy

Not A Secret Dragon Totally: Bessieres

Non marshals

Dragons: Junot, Desiree Clary, Bernadotte’s minister Magnus Brahe oh my god, either Trobriand or Morand, either Wellington or Picton, maybe Desaix

Sea Serpents: Villeneuve, Cochrane (and babby Marryat), maybe Dadmiral Pellew

Definitely Human: Napoleon, Joséphine, most noble/royalty, Talleyrand lol, most of the wives of people I turned into dragons

Contemplating having Ida St Elme be a dragon shapeshifter because of that historical fantasy series based on her having her be a Special Magic Person and I’m not sure her relationship with Ney works if she’s scaly all the time

This is partially informed by a desire to have interesting characters as dragons but also wanting to keep some interesting characters as still human, the underlying metaphor of monstrous draconic avarice as linked to greed and plundering but also some humans should also just be like that, and also vibes and who would be funnier as a dragon

Anyone can write fic or be inspired or steal my ideas or write stuff based on anyone being a dragon idk I’m just addicted to worldbuilding I need to finish a few other projects before thinking about if I want to write a proper fic or drawing for this, might post snippets if they emerge into my mind though

I am open to suggestions and arguments as well

Under the cut is some thoughts inspired by @impetuous-impulse about arranged dragon marriages and in universe cultural stuff

The legend of St Martha taming the tarasque

is slightly different in this world - after the tarasque is tamed, it is not killed by the people with spears. The same is with St George and the Dragon, where the dragon is tamed and not killed as a demonstration of Christianity's might.

I'm not going to go as far as to say Jesus was a dragon, but from chatting to Impulse and thinking about it, and also that I turned a bunch of military nobility into dragons

In this world there's a cultural Thing around the idea of an ingenue* woman - or man sometimes - being known as a "dragon-wife", a representative and rider, tamer of the monstrous beast, offered to sate the dragon's greed

This overlaps with the idea of a dragon's "favoured person", a person they grow so close to that the dragon-stupour that they fall into when exhausted is lessened and shortened by the presence of that person, and also there might be something about a dragon being able to telepathically talk to them over larger distances, being able to share emotions and senses

People know that the dragon-wife/dragon-rider is not necessarily a dragon's bonded/favored person, but it's better if they are. It's a very political thing for dragons with high titles and high ranks, to be accompanied by a charming maiden.

But of course, these maidens often aren't allowed to have any power or prowess! Though some do carve it out, and some by virtue of having a giant reptilian beast on their side do end up in interesting and exciting places.

Think of it like a beauty and a beast thing.

*ingenue was attested in 1848, too late for the time period damn

also i would like to have more dragons who identify as ladies, dragons do not have physical sex in this setting but they do identify as gender - i doubt explicitly nonbinary dragons will be popping up for a while though and the focus of this is the land with the very gendered language so they just default to unfortunate il

[librathefangirl]

Only answer if you want of course, or pick and choose which ones to talk about, but! I'm very interested to hear about these fics 💜💜💜💜

A Clan of One

First Holy War Whumptober AU

Whumptober - Meliodas & The Boar Hat Regulars

King & Meliodas Whumptober 2022

The Past On My Skin

I usually don't need a lot of encouraging to talk about my fics and wips, so I will talk about these :D Except for the King & Meliodas one, I don't really think I've even mentioned these before. Fun!

First off, Meliodas & The Boar Hat Regulars I talked about in another ask. But as for the others...

A Clan of One

This is one of my remaining Febuwhump fics, but I haven't properly started on it yet (still got a few others to finish first). I do have an idea of what it'll be about though (it's even got a title!). It's for Day 27, and the prompt "Survivor's Guilt". Basically, it's gonna be exploring how Meliodas deals struggles with more or less being the only demon left. While he did choose to betray the demons, they are still his kin, his family even, and now they are gone and he's still here. They're not dead, of course, and one could argue if what he's doing is actually living (with the whole cursed and torment thing going on), but he's got to have a lot of guilt about what happened to the rest of the demons (and for leaving Zel behind to that fate).

Here's a little summary I wrote when I first decided on this idea:

One good thing about the years passing was that people forgot. Millennia later, no one cared to talk about the sealed Demon Clan. To them, they were a thing of the past. To Meliodas, they were an eternity of ghosts in his head.

First Holy War Whumptober AU

Now this is another one of the Whumptober fics I never got around to finishing in time. But I will finish it! I'm actually quite excited to share this one. It's gonna be a 3-chapter fic written for 3 separate Whumptober days/prompts, with the first prompt being "Reluctant Whumper". The other 2 are a secret for now (telling them would be too spoilery). Like my title suggest it's an AU taking place during the First Holy War, the story going off-canon right after Meliodas betrayal. It's focused on our beloved demon brothers, and also features our (here non-literal) queens Elizabeth and Gelda. Oh, and the Demon King, I guess (a proper whumper for this Whumptober fic). That said, since it's Whumptober (and me), there will be plenty of angst going around. Especially for those poor traumatized boys. There are a lot more I could say about this one, but I'm not going to. I feel like the less I say, the better this fic is going to be to read.

However! I will share a little sneak peek. I do have several snippets I wish I could share with you all, but most of them are in the second chapter and (again) that would be too spoilery, so let's go with a (redacted) sneak peek from chapter 1 instead:

Zeldris felt his blood turn to ice as the words repeated themselves in his head. Over and over again. Like an unwanted echo in an empty house. This... This was wrong! This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Meliodas wasn't supposed to [redacted]. He was supposed to [redacted], and Zeldris – Zeldris looked down at his hand; the same hand that had [redacted] just a few moments before – Zeldris didn't know what he was doing anymore. This was all wrong.

King & Meliodas

Ah, yes, the fic with two beginnings (lol). This was technically planned out for Whumptober 2022, but since I ended up not doing Whumptober that year, this fic was never fully written. The prompts I was going to use for this fic were "Protective" and "Stabbed". Since then, I've also written two separate beginning to (what I'm fairly certain is) the same fic. But that's fine, happens to the best of us (right?), and I do think I can combine the beginning without too much struggle (I love them both, plus they're kind of starting at different places).

So the story... This takes place in another undefined timeline; the Sins are all together, fighting side by side, and Meliodas' demon secret has already been revealed. King, like in canon, is struggling with the reveal and what it means in terms of him trusting Meliodas. (I do love making King confront his feelings about Mel being a demon). There is a big fight happening, during which King and Meliodas end up separated from the others. Though not before Meliodas gets badly injured saving King. So that's the plot, I guess, the two of them trying to find their way back to the others, trying not to die, all the while dealing with the elephant in the room (or maybe I should say demon in the room).

Here's two sneak peeks (one for each document lol). First off, Meliodas astounding lack of worry for his own health:

“Huh?” Meliodas almost sounded surprised, as if he hadn’t noticed the blood that was running down his leg. He glanced down at his shirt, pulling it up enough to reveal the angrily red wound, slowly oozing more and more blood. “Oh. Yeah, that’s not good.” “We should find shelter.” “I’m fine.” King didn’t even know how to act around Meliodas anymore. Let alone how he felt. This was not helping. “You almost fell on your face.” “I stumbled. It’s fine.” King felt his annoyance growing, “You’ve been stabbed!”

And then the heart of the issue:

“What the heck kind of question is that?!” Meliodas was sitting up fully now. The levity was completely gone. King had seen him like this before. This was the Meliodas that made no one question who the captain of the Seven Deadly Sins was; gaze sharp, posture serious, status undeniable. Now though, King couldn’t help but wonder where Meliodas had learned to channel that deadly focus so fast and unwavering in the first place. As a Holy Knight in Britannia, or as a trusted soldier in the Demon Real? “Come on,” King countered, the words harder to form than he wanted. There’s no going back now. “You can’t pretend like nothing’s changed.” “Yeah, you’re right,” Meliodas admitted. His brow furrowed as he studied the flames for a moment. Then he met King’s gaze again. The smile on his lips was an empty echo of its usual mirth. “I know you don’t trust me anymore, King.” King struggled to keep eye contact. This wasn’t a secret. They both knew it because King hadn’t tried to hide it. It wasn’t meant to be a secret. Yet hearing it out loud, it felt like a sucker punch.

The Past On My Skin

Ooh. This is a fic that was inspired by a post talking about what if Meliodas had the scars from his deaths, and also by the song "Would Anyone Care" by Citizen Soldier. (Come think of it, I probably started this wip around the time I made that video). Basically, while Meliodas body is healed each time he dies, he also gains a scar (from the "killing blow"). So, in other words, not a happy fic (but there will be comfort eventually, just a lot of hurt too), exploring the darker parts of Meliodas' mind and the mental impact of his curse.

I don't think I have much more to say about this one, so here's a sneak peek:

Maybe he wasn’t completely invincible after all? It had been a nice thought, as long as it had lasted. Though as years turned to centuries, Meliodas was forced to face reality. He was stuck. Frozen. In a way it was pretty fitting. After everything he’d done, he deserved to be stuck in a prison of his own. The scar wasn’t his first and it wouldn’t be his last. The death only one of many. It wasn’t really a conscious thing. Not at first anyway. More like an indifference; recklessness, getting a little too bold during a fight, a little too careless with how he protected the people around him. In the end, what did it matter? He couldn’t really die. And if he started welcoming death and the merciful void of emotions, well, everyone had their breaking point, right? Meliodas had crossed his several Elizabeths ago.

WIP Tag/Ask Game!

[foxcort]

a lion does not concern itself with the opinion of sheep. tamlin-centric, tamlin/briar (if you squint) au, gen | ao3

But the Lord of Casterly Rock said and did nothing beyond the steady glare he fixed upon his youngest son.

for @isterofimias & @praetorqueenreyna ❤️

a/n: straying a little from my edit in that tamlin's family is still very much alive and his father is lord of casterly rock and *insert all titles here*! tamlin's family are based on the versions of them i imagine existed in acotar canon and less based on the lannisters/asoiaf (though it was difficult trying to separate tywin from tamlin's father, but can you blame me?). also this can be seen as a prelude to the brilin asoiaf au (oneshot for now?) i'm working on, though its more centered around tamlin and how i imagine he would translate into the asoiaf world. (ps. may i suggest listening to the rains of castamere or a lannister always pays his debts while reading this? or maybe even this casterly rock themed ambience/music?). i apologize in advance for my disgustingly excessive use of commas

It was never a good omen when Emrys approached him with a smile on his face. Especially when that smile was too predatory to carry any good will, and the glint in his eyes too cruel to preface anything but torment. Tamlin sighed softly to himself, eyes tracking his brother's movements as he dropped into the seat beside him with all the comfort that didn’t, and should’ve, existed between kin.

"There'll be no need getting all pretty and proper for Lord Tyrell's daughters today." That smile widened. Sharpened. "Not for you, little brother."

Tamlin threw him a weary look from where he sat, haphazardly reclined on one of the finely carved rosewood chairs situated in his guest chambers. "If you have something to say, spit it out." His answer was irate and breathless, still labored from the sparring practice his mornings were oft scheduled with. Having a conversation with Emrys while he had the upper hand was never pleasant. Even less so when Tamlin's body was littered with bruises and soaked in sweat, the fabric of his crimson tunic clinging uncomfortably to his chest.

Emrys gave a mocking click of his tongue, as if chiding a child for impatience. "This came for you. Just before dawn."

A small scroll — loosely unrolled enough to indicate Emrys had taken the liberty of reading it first — sat in the middle of his brother's outstretched palm. Bait in a bear trap.

For a long moment, Tamlin stared, his stomach turning at the possibilities before he calmly collected the paper and unfurled it. Return to Casterly Rock at once. With a quiet groan set off by his sore limbs, he sat up and leaned forward, forearms stretched over his thighs as he turned the message over, searching for an explanation he knew he would not find. Just his name eloquently printed on one side and the six meager words on the other.

"Shame." Emrys laughed, low and taunting. "I could've sworn the youngest was smitten with you. Caught her painting a pair of green eyes too soft to be mine."

Tamlin's gaze snapped to his brother's, the mirror of them always unnerving. It was their mother's eyes. His eyes. Shared between them in a juxtaposition of cruelty and mercy. A curse from the Seven, surely, when those eyes — softened further by his mother's smile — were the only ones that had ever looked at him with love and kindness.

"Are you so lacking in charm, you had to arrange for me to be sent away in order to ensure favor from one of Tyrell’s daughters?”

He thought distantly of the three of them and how they seemed to skirt around Emrys, recognizing at the very least, an undercurrent of savagery that did not belong amongst the delicate roses and clear sunshine. Truly, he was a lion amongst lambs in their presence.

"Careful." A glimmer of rage flickered in the green of his gaze, reminding Tamlin that while they were gifted with their mother's eyes, everything else was a bane from their father. “Or you’ll be journeying to the Wall in place of Casterly Rock.”

And he did not doubt him.

Not when Emrys’ anger was an inferno compared to the ember that sat diligently in Tamlin’s chest.

“You’re to marry the Stark girl.”

It was an effort to keep his mouth shut, though Tamlin's fingers curled into fists under the table, jaw tightening. Whatever he thought he would be facing upon his return to the Rock, it was leagues away from this. And perhaps even farther away from what Emrys could have influenced. No, this was a decision born entirely from his father's mind.

He supposed he should be glad. There were worse fates than marrying into a traitor house. And when he thought of his brief time in King's Landing and the too-watchful gaze of Hybern Greyjoy's red woman, it was almost enough to abate his anger. Almost.

“Do I have a say in this matter?” His voice was measured, surprising even himself.

Only the slight arch of his father’s brow gave Tamlin indication that he’d been heard at all. But the Lord of Casterly Rock said and did nothing beyond the steady glare he fixed upon his youngest son. As if the question was too dull to answer.

“You’ll be leaving in a week. With Lucien,” he paused to lean back in his chair, satisfied that the insolence of Tamlin's question did not tread further, “and a retinue of no more than ten men.”

Small, by Lannister standards, even for the least significant son. His father did not wish for them to be noticed, then. "What of the Tyrells? Will they not ask why I was pulled away in the middle of talks?"

"They will not." Irritation singed the end of his father's tone, his answer too quick. A glint of disdain sharpened the Lord's cold gaze, "Let me assure you, there was never any impression that you were an option for groom. Lord Tyrell's eldest will choose between your brothers, and you— you will go to Winterfell to marry the Stark." He paused, body rigid again. "Is that clear?"

Once more Tamlin held his mouth firm, afraid that if he opened it he would make the grave mistake of truly angering his father. Grey might've speckled the fine golden thread of his hair, but a man could count himself blessed by the Seven to survive a duel with Callen Lannister. He was as sharp and vicious with his sword as he was with his tongue. And Tamlin had been at the end of both enough times to know when a limit had been reached.

Callen rose from his seat — seemingly content with his son's silence — and Tamlin's gaze flickered to the courtyard beyond the room. Beams of sunlight filtered onto the lone tree planted there, snagging his bleating thoughts, a balm to his bruised heart. Years of being Callen's least favored did not lessen the blow his words often landed, and every new interaction reopened a wound he had thought long since healed.

"Your mother leaves to join your brothers in Highgarden tomorrow in hopes that her company will usher Tyrell's daughter into making a decision." His father's hand curled around the back of his now vacant seat and the sound of wood scraping on stone filled the room as he set it neatly in place. "Meet her before she departs.” Not a drop of warmth existed in that tone, though Tamlin knew some part of his father always considered his mother's heart above them all. “It would grieve her if you froze to death in the North without a proper farewell."

Tamlin had no chance, or will, to speak before his father turned on his heel and swiftly left the room.

In contrast, his mother had a retinue of thirty.

Twenty-five men, gathered in an arrangement outside the castle, and five women — his mother's personal attendants — seated safely in the awaiting wheelhouse. All the gold buried deep in the Rock, and it was Tamlin's mother his father treasured most. The one and only ideal he respected him for.

He squeezed her hands and cherished the warmth they offered, knowing soon he would feel nothing but the biting cold of the North. "My sweet boy." Her voice was smooth and pleasant as she slipped a hand from his to cradled the side of his face, a comforting gesture familiar to him since childhood. "Promise me you'll send a raven once you've reached Winterfell. It would settle my nerves."

He leaned into her touch, forcing a smile over his mouth for her sake. "I promise."

Gentle sea winds stirred the unblemished, golden curtain of her hair, a knowing look shadowing her features. "Trust in your father's intentions. They have always been for the good of his sons. Even if it may not seem so in the beginning."

"It's not always . . . easy to see what he sees." Pain colored his gruff voice, escaped from the confines of his well guarded heart. He paused in an attempt to swallow that hurt and failed miserably. "I'm being sent as shackles for the Starks, aren't I?" Only his mother's presence could draw such emotion from him and he hated it. Hated succumbing to that ugly feeling, hated letting it expose his weaker points. "He means to use me to keep them in line."

A soft sigh from her. She knew how he felt. Had tried to protect him from it for as long as he could remember. "He means to ensure all of his sons have grand standing in this world. The North is a stronghold with a precarious relationship to the crown and all of its vassals. Choosing which one of you to tie to the Starks was not done carelessly." Her lips tilted upward and her eyes shone with quiet pride. "Your brothers have little tact where delicate matters are concerned. You, however, are mine. And you always will be." She returned her hand to his and squeezed, coaxing a lightness back into his chest. Knowing she had a part in sending him to the North was both a solace and an ache, but where he found it difficult to trust his father, it was as easy as breathing with her. "Promise me again, you'll send a raven?"

He laughed under his breath, the sound of approaching footsteps stilling behind him. "When have I ever broken a promise to you?" Water glimmered in his mother's eyes and Tamlin quieted whatever thoughts stormed in his mind, to wrap her in his arms. "I'll send as many ravens as you'd like." She shivered, likely an attempt to hold off real tears, and he squeezed her harder. "So many, you'll grow sick of me."

"And stay warm," she murmured into his shoulder, before her chin tilted upward and her gaze settled on someone behind him. She said in a louder, more clear voice, "Lucien, see to it that he stays warm."

"I will, my lady." Tamlin didn't have to turn around to see the grin on the emissary's face, or the deep bow he offered. "Even if I must suffocate him with furs myself."

Finally, he pulled away from her, and she gripped his hand as he guided her into the wheelhouse, one last murmured goodbye passing between them, before an attendant shut the doors. A shouted command rang high above the sound of horses and armor clinking armor, and the procession to Highgarden began.

a/n: i just wanted to add that because i've chosen houses based on what made sense to me, a lot of the asoiaf loyalties and histories will be different — (e.g. the greyjoys taking over the targaryens/iron throne instead of the baratheons/robert's rebellion). i hope you enjoy this one! i've been meaning to do a got rewatch at some point, so there might be future asoiaf au oneshots or shortfics with different characters, ships and timelines! / lannister divider by @dingusfreakhxrrington