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holylulusworld · 1 year ago

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Dishonored

Title: Dishonored

Summary: You fell. For his lies. For him. From grace.

Pairing: Prince!Steven Grant Rogers x Princess!Reader; Lord Barnes x Princess!Reader (no polyamory)

Warnings: heavy angst (I’m not joking), lies, manipulation, hurting people for revenge, implied loss of innocence, unwanted/unplanned pregnancy, Steve being the worst, sadness, hopelessness, desperation, suicidal tendency/suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide, fluff, we stan Bucky in this story

Rating: Mature

Words: 2,7 k

Square filled for @anyfandomfluffbingo: Square 9: “I never loved you.”

Square filled for Lulu’s Winter Bingo 2022: Square 4: Winter

Square filled for @steverogersbingo: C3: Free space – Royal AU

Square filled for @buckybarnesbingo: C2: Sharing body heat

Please heed the warnings for this story. It contains triggering content such as attempted suicide.

You fell. For his lies. For him. From grace.

How do you move on when your honor and grace get ripped away by the man who promised you love and devotion?

He lured you in – sweet-talked you into giving him the one thing you cherished the most. Your honor and innocence. Reserved for your future husband, and the man loving you unconditionally.

Lies. All lies.

It was a moment of weakness making you stumble and fall. Into his bed. Into his arms.

He took you apart, gentle, and slow. A miracle to you when you think about the aftermath.

A few months earlier, your father’s castle

“I can't believe Prince Steven came to woo me,” you mumbled to yourself. The prince arrived earlier this morning and you hoped your dreams would come true. You always felt a deep connection to the prince, and now, he’s here to talk to your father.

“Princess!” Your chambermaid scolded. “You shouldn’t be out here in the cold! Your father called for you. He wants you to meet Prince Steven. He will stay at the castle for a few weeks until he travels to his uncle’s castle.”

Your face fell. He came here to sit out the approaching snowstorm, nothing else.

How could you have been foolish enough to believe he came to ask for your hand?

“I’m…coming,” you tried to not cry. All your hopes and dreams ended up on the ground - shattered and torn. “We cannot let our guest wait.”

“Father,” you stepped confidently toward your father to peck his cheek. He was always soft on you, and let you break a few rules. Especially when it came to etiquette. You’re his little thunderstorm, a wild child with a bright mind and softness that’s hard to find among royals. “I heard we have a guest.”

“He’ll be here in a minute,” the king softly said. He ran his hand over your hair and patted your head. “I need you on your best behavior. I angered the prince, and we don’t want him to tell his father the king about it.”

You wrinkled your forehead. “What? I don’t understand,” you whispered so no one could hear. Your father is one of the kindest people you know. How could he possibly anger the prince?

“Your Highness,” Steven walked inside the throne room, accompanied by his best friend, and confident Lord Barnes. The brunette watched you with interest while the prince’s eyes drifted toward your brother and his fiancé, Lady Margaret Carter. “I see the princess will join us for supper.”

“Your Highness,” you turned your attention toward the prince. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again. It’s been too long.”

Steven eagerly took your offered hand to press a chaste kiss to the back of it. “The pleasure is all mine. Thank you for having me.”

“Lord Barnes,” you smiled at the brunette. Last time you saw him he was reading a book in the garden, chuckling at something he read. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay. The library is always open for you.”

“Princess,” Lord Barnes smiled wildly. “You look as beautiful as ever.”

“Oh…my…you are too kind, Lord Barnes,” you replied gracefully and batted your eyelashes. “It’s always a pleasure having you around.”

Supper was more than pleasant. Lord Barnes kept the conversation flowing while the prince watched you the whole time. He complimented you and raised his glass on your beauty and grace.

You were surprised. His eyes seemed to be glued to your brother and his fiancé. Out of a sudden Prince Steven turned his attention toward you. He even stopped his friend from talking to you.

Your cheeks heated up, and you felt warm when he placed his hand next to yours, subtly brushing your pinkie with his finger.

It was the first time he was so close, and you allowed yourself to bask in his attention for as long as it lasted.

The next days felt like a dream come true. Steven asked you to spend time with him and go for a walk in the gardens. For propriety's sake, a chaperon accompanied you and Steven. But you didn’t care at all.

The moments spent with the prince were the best of your life. He made you smile, and laugh and your heart flutter.

All that mattered to you was his smile, his soft blue eyes, and the way he looked at you. It was the same way your father looked at your father and your brother at his chosen bride.

“I wish these days will never end,” you dared to hope Steven would say the same.

He took you by surprise when he replied. “Even if they end,” he looked you deep in the eyes, leaning a little closer to whisper, “I’ll always come back to you."

The prince was about to press a soft kiss on your forehead when your chaperone stepped in.

“Your Highness, please do not forget you are wooing for a princess, not a wench. Remember your manners,” she tutted. “We should head back inside. It’s getting colder, and I can smell the snow.”

Marjorie, your chaperone was right. Winter came faster than expected, accompanied by a snowstorm that wouldn’t let up.

The whole country was suffering from the cold weather and the snow masses.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The snowstorm and unforgiving winter kept Steven and Lord Barnes from leaving your castle.

You didn’t mind. Most of the time you spend with Steven, chatting about his kingdom, childhood, and love.

Yes. Love.

You held hands, and when your chaperone wasn’t looking, he even stole kisses. Steven promised you that love is the most precious thing to protect in this world.

He played you well, you give him that.

Your heart couldn’t take being apart from Steven for a single moment. So, you gave him everything you had to offer, and what he was craving.

On one of these cold winter nights, you let him sneak into your bedroom, and take you to bed. He kissed you, and when he settled between your thighs you believed he would make you his wife and love you forever.

When it was over, he smirked, and his eyes grew cold. Your heart dropped as he hastily redressed. “Steven, what are you doing?”

“My plan went well, didn’t it?” He looked at you, making you feel ashamed of yourself. You grabbed the blanket to cover your body. The one he ruined with his touch.

“I don’t understand, Steven. My love. What has gotten into you? You said you love me.” You cried as he looked at you, wrinkling his nose at your disheveled state.

“I never loved you,” he coldly replied. “Your father forced the woman I love to marry your brother,” he sneered and curled his lips. “I stole his beloved daughter’s innocence. What will he do if he finds out you are carrying my bastard under your heart?”

“Steven, I don’t…” Your voice trembled. “Why? I…”

“I came here to ask your father to stop this insanity and let me marry Margaret. I love her dearly. He refused and wanted to send me away.”

You remember now. Your father told you that he upset Steven.

“But…she came here, begging my father to help her. She wanted to marry my brother. Margaret wasn’t my father’s first choice. Some princesses and ladies were more beautiful and with a better reputation. He agreed because she was in love with my brother and threatened to kill herself if he didn’t allow her to marry my brother.”

“What?” He looked a little shell-shocked at your words but shook his head. “Lies!” Steven yelled, making you flinch. “Shut your mouth, wench. Never talk about Margaret like that again.”

He left without looking back and slammed the door shut. Leaving you devasted, heartbroken, and ruined.

After that night, he never looked at you. He declared that he was going to stay at the guest wing until it was time to leave.

One month later, …

Hopelessness is the only thing left in your life. You can feel a new life growing in your womb. Every passing day brings you closer to doomsday.

Soon you won’t be able to hide the secret. Soon everyone will know you got dishonored.

Foolish girl letting a man take what should have never been his.

You run your hand over your belly, choking out another sob. If you want to save what’s left of your honor, you must take matters into your own hands.

Shakily you glance at the balcony parapet again. If you do it now, you can save your honor, and your father’s.

Stepping toward the parapet you release a shuddery breath.

What if it’s not high enough? What if you survive? What if they ask questions?

“No,” you step away from the parapet. This is the wrong way to go. You must let it look like an accident. Or maybe, if you can find someone selling you a potion, you can end your life painlessly and fast.

The river looked inviting to you. You looked at the floating water, fascinated by its power and grace.

Once upon a time, you were gracefully too.

That was until your grace and innocence got ripped away from you like it meant nothing to him. “If I step into the river, it will be over soon. Maybe they will believe it was an accident. I slipped and fell into the river.”

Slowly, you stepped toward the water, closing your eyes for a moment. This was the only way to save your honor. The water would wash away the sin you committed and take your secret with it.

You took another step, and another until you felt the cold water kiss your feet. “Cold.” You whispered but walked farther into the water, feeling it tug at your gown. “It will be over soon, my little stardust.” You rubbed your belly. “I’m so sorry.”

The water surrounded you, almost reaching your waistline as you heard someone call for you. “Princess! NO!”

It was Lord Barnes. His heart stopped beating for a moment when he saw you in the river. He knew something was wrong with the way his friend acted out of a sudden.

“Nooo!” You heard the water splashing and then, two strong arms wrapped around you like anchors holding you in this world. “What are you doing, princess.”

“I cannot…he dishonored me,” you choked out a heartbreaking sob. “I cannot remain. No man will want me. Not after he took my innocence and…the baby…it will be a bastard.”

Lord Barnes stiffened when the words floated out of your mouth like the water in the river. He couldn’t believe his friend and confidant would do such a thing to you for revenge.

“My love. No,” he dragged you out of the water, and wrapped you in his arms, letting you cry in his chest until there were no tears left in you. Lord Barnes said. “Stay with me, my love. I’ll keep you warm. We need to keep each other warm.”

“But I—” You lifted your head to look at him with tear-clouded eyes. “You should’ve let me die. Father will…”

“He won’t know. Not about what happened with Steven, nor what you did today. What a coincidence I came by when you slipped and fell into the river,” he whispered and kissed your temple. “I came back to ask for your hand, and to wed you in spring.”

Your heart thundered in your chest at his words. “I’m…ruined. You don’t want me, or my bastard child.”

“I will love it like my own, my love,” he kissed your cheek. “You are not ruined, princess. Only a little broken. But we can fix this. I got my heart broken once too. We will heal together.”

“My lord, the babe…it’s not yours…I can’t…you can’t.”

“It’s cold, let’s head back to the castle and get you warm. I’ll call for a healer…”

“Not a word about her condition except for the cold,” Lord Barnes warned the healer. “If you say a word about the other thing,” he patted his sword, “you won’t be able to spend all the gold you’ll get.”

“Not a word,” the healer nodded and walked back inside your room.

“Marry my daughter?” Your father eyed Lord Barnes warily. He came back a few days after Prince Steven and he left the castle. Alone, and with a grim expression. “But…what about the prince?”

“He’s a foolish man, my king,” Lord Barnes growled. “He lost his heart one too many times to a pretty face. I cherish your daughter, her grace, and her kindness. If you allow me to woo her, I’ll be forever grateful. I’m not a prince but love her dearly.”

“She admires you too,” the king replied. “She talked about you, and that you love to read as much as she does. If my daughter agrees, I’ll agree on your bond.”

Lord Barnes didn’t wait until spring to wed you. He insisted on marrying you within another month.

You watched him with sad eyes as he desperately tried to fix his friend’s mistake.

“Lord Barnes, you can still find a better bride,” you took his hand to press a soft kiss on his knuckles. “I’m thankful that you tried to save my honor, but I cannot make you miserable for the rest of your life.”

“My love,” he whispered. “I fell for you the first time we met. If only I knew about Steven’s plans, I wouldn’t have stepped back and let him woo for you.”

“It’s not your fault, only mine,” you sniffled, and wiped your eyes. “I wasn’t raised to become a wench. I decided to let him do this to me…”

“Y/N, you’re not a w-.” He shook his head. “Never use that word again,” he angrily said. “He was the one stealing the light from you. You’re still an innocent angel.”

“I know that I’m not,” you hid your face in his shoulder, allowing yourself to let the mask you wear so well slip. “You’ll get damaged goods, my Lord.”

“Call me James, or Bucky, my love,” he gently rubbed your back. “I promise, you are far from damaged goods for me. You are going to be my wife and I’ll love you. And the babe will get all my love too. They are going to mine.”

“What a beautiful pair, don’t you think?” Your mother asked. “She looks happy, my love.”

Your father smiled wildly as he watched you and your groom share the first dance. You smiled and laughed as Bucky twirled you around.

“I was worried about our daughter for a while. Prince Steven’s departure left her heartbroken,” the king held out his hand for his wife. “Let us join them and celebrate their union.”

The queen smiled and took your father’s offered hand. She didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.

A mother always knows when her child is in need.

She will never break her promise to herself and tell her husband that she saw you at the river when Lord Barnes saved you, or that she heard what you confessed.

“He is a good man, my love,” the queen whispered. “Our beloved daughter couldn't find a better man.”

While everyone celebrated your wedding and danced, Steven stood in a corner, watching you and his best friend happy together.

He squared his jaw and balled his hands into fists. His heart dropped watching Margaret and your brother join you on the dance floor.

Everything he did was in vain…

Tags in reblog.

#steve rogers angst #bucky barnes #buckybarnesbingo2023 #steverogersbingo #anyfandomfluffbingo #prince!steve rogers #royal!bucky barnes #royal au #angst #tw: attempted suicide

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platinumshawnn · 5 months ago

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Bound by Blood and Fire | Benjicot Blackwood - pt ix

Synopsis: in the aftermath of the Battle by the Lakeshore, the Dance of Dragons continues to rage on. Benjicot returns home and confides in his wife about the horrors of war as he prepares for another return to the battlefield and makes a plea to Rhaenyra.

Content warnings: MDNI 18+ — adult language, mentions of blood, violence, and war; era related sexism and gender based harassment/discrimination, sexual content, mild depictions of family based violence, implied suicide ideation, mention of major character death, depiction of childbirth & mention of miscarriages (no depiction).

masterlist | audio playlist | backwards — 8 | forwards — 10

A/N: you guys are going to hate me but the editing on this was minimal because I am so burnt out it’s wild but I am working on it as we speak x

Word count: 11.6k

“And…deep breath, my lady,” the midwife softly instructed, her hand closing around her shoulder.

Serra winced, swaying from side-to-side in an effort to alleviate the unbearable pressure that rested in her pelvis and abdomen; the pain tore through her, radiating to every inch of her body as her head leaned back into the midwife’s shoulder in an effort to steady herself as she sat on her knees. A low groan of pain echoed through the room, cut off by a sudden sob as another contraction shot up her spine, every muscle in her body going taut while trembling hands gripped the stained sheet behind her. The mattress dug into her shoulders as she pressed into it — she could have gone a thousand years of not knowing this pain, but Serra found herself sat against her bed, crouched on the cold marble floor that tempered her feverish, sweat slicked skin, the fine hairs that rounded her hairline damp as it clung to her temples, “Again, push.”

She let out a whimper, chin dropping to rest against her chest as she bore down, the pain intensifying as she let out a cry, “Good!” The elderly midwife in front of her encouraged, a hand on her knee as she glanced up at her anguished face, “I can see the head! The head is coming through!”

She let out a sharp breath, having to pause and catch her breath that came in quick pants; a damp cloth being dabbed against her cheeks from the woman behind her who stroked her shoulder, “Almost there, my lady— breathe,” she instructed in a soft, soothing voice, “again, push!”

“It’s too early,” Serra had been weakened by the hours-long labour that seemed to have no end, slumped against the bed and writhing in agony as her expression crumbled in a sob, “please, it’s too early— ahagh!”

“Bring her, let’s get her on her back—” The suggestion was quiet, but quickly challenged as it reached her ears.

“No, please no,” She cried out, feeling as hands closed around her knees and ankles as they attempted to pull her forward — the midwife froze abruptly in response to her right foot flinging out and kicking her hand away, looking up at her young Lady who shook her head and pulled from her. She could not go through this again — she was overcome by a sudden anxiety and fear as she moved, unable to bear the thought of losing another.

Serra shoved herself upright and shifted back onto her backside, pressing further into the bed as another contraction tore through her as she then released a final groan, bearing down with the very little strength she still possessed. She writhed, her knees parted and chin resting to her chest as she pushed, barely present enough to feel the comforting hand on her shoulder from behind her; drowning out the soft voices that reluctantly encouraged her and overcome by an overwhelming sense of nausea that had followed every searing contraction that radiated to each and every end of her body. Every muscle clenched so tight she felt her bones might snap and each nerve pinched in discomfort that caused her to let out a, her hands releasing the sheets finally and finding rest against the floor at her sides as she arched back into the bed and let out a moan that resembled that of an injured animal that slowly raised into a whine — she was suddenly startled by the gush between her thighs, staining the floor as relief washed over her, paired with a sudden emptiness.

She was aware now as she tuned back into her surroundings at the feeling of a babe’s shoulders sliding past her thighs and letting out a high pitched shriek; she quickly reached down underneath her chemise and found the infant who squirmed, face scrunched up in a cry that echoed through the room. The midwife, too, reached for the babe, aiding them to her chest and wrapping a thin blanket around it as she finally slumped back into the bed again; a cry of relief leaving her.

“He’s here!”

Serra took a moment to collect her thoughts, seeking rest as her head rested against the bed and panting heavily, her eyes fluttering shut — her heart continued to race and she felt cold from the shock, numbed by adrenaline but faintly able to feel hands instantly pressing to her abdomen and palpitating while another pair of hands assessed the child in her arms. It was then that she slowly opened her eyes and looked at the midwife with tired eyes, “A boy?”

Serra looked down, admiring his small, rounded face that was framed by a familiar head of dark hair; using her left hand to wipe away some blood from his forehead as he squirmed, mouth open with lively screams that announced his arrival -- he was here, at last. She let out a weak, emotional sob and looked up at the midwife.

The elderly woman smiled wide and bright, with her rosy cheeks and eyes lit with excitement as she softly spoke, “A boy, my lady,” she said, “a fine, handsome heir for Raventree.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He could hardly hear over the sound of his heartbeat in his ears — the sound of blood thundering loud over that of the rain that poured down in sheets that made his vision blur, squinting to see his hand outstretched in front of him as he blindly pushed forward. The only thing that guided his movements was the sound of anguished outcries, grunts of exertion, and the harsh clatter of weaponry; swords clashing into one another in battle that had dragged on for hours — he did not particularly like battle, but it only felt necessary these days. There seemed to be no avoiding it. Perhaps he chose to no longer avoid it.

The sun had hardly risen, hung low over the horizon as it slowly crept high into the sky as the light of morning spread across the shores of God's Eye; no inch untouched by the already unbearable heat despite the treacherous rain, humid and thick as the men only found relief by the subtle breeze that blew across the sea and towards the battle.

Benjicot had not seen the early days of this battle -- a day late, but the carnage that already haunted the shores was undoubtedly beyond what he could have ever prepared himself for when he arrived that morning. With every step he took, there was a new body, slashed and bloodied — his boots sunk into the mud that had turned red with blood each step forward; soaked up to his knees and heaving for air as he found himself stumbling forward and twisting awkwardly into his right knee.

Faintly, he could see the knight in front of him — the familiar regal red and gold of his house colours, clumsy and equally blind as he stupidly swung his sword out at the sound of a grunt from Benjicot as he pushed up from the ground. His eyes narrowed, blinking harshly and trying to use his hand to wipe the water from them as they stung, struggling to keep his eyes open. He caught his balance, his foot coming free from the mud with a disgusting slosh and fumbling to readjust his sword in his hand — they were only inches apart, but the weather made it near impossible for him to move with any grace, his arm swinging out and catching the tip of his blade in an awkward clatter that felt far from deliberate — he heard a startled noise from the young knight who stumbled back, free hand flinging behind him in an effort to catch himself.

Benjicot lunged forward, moving based on hope alone and potentially false optimism that he wouldn’t miss — that he wouldn’t just crash into the ground, face first and put himself in a worse position. His neck and shoulder collided with the waist of the boy in front of him, losing his footing in the slippery terrain and lurching the pair of them forward as a hand slammed against his back in an effort to find hold on something, anything — instead, the collision was followed by the clamour of armour as they tumbled backwards. His brow slammed into his chin as the two men hit the ground, eliciting a pained help from the Lannister knight — Benjicot could have sworn his vision had given out entirely for a moment, pain shooting in behind his left eye and radiating until through his temple as a hand slammed into his face; shoving and fighting to get him off — his head jerked sideways, straining backwards awkwardly. He fumbled to shove his hand away, crawling up him like a struggling inch worm and punching his wrist as he reached for his sword that had been lost in the muck — the hand reached again, wriggling underneath him, and Benjicot growled in frustration.

He gritted his teeth, feeling the sharp sting of pain shoot through his body as the Lannister knight beneath him thrashed, desperately trying to dislodge him, but Benjicot's determination outweighed his exhaustion. His fingers scraped through the mud, finally closing around the hilt of his sword just as the knight's knee slammed into his side, knocking the air from his lungs.

With a feral growl, he pushed back, using the knight's moment of distraction to twist the blade up between them. The knight’s hand shot out again, grasping for Benjicot’s arm just a moment too late — the blade met its mark, driving into the gap between the golden lion’s breastplate and shoulder guard. Benjicot could feel the shock in the knight’s body as his muscles went rigid beneath him, his eyes widening as he stared up, mouth agape and frozen; a silence befalling them as his mouth opened and choked out a series of sounds, wet and coughing, his lips being stained by blood.

For a moment, the battle seemed to stop — the distant clash of swords and the roar of men faded into the background. Benjicot met the knight’s eyes through the haze of rain and pain, seeing the disbelief in the young man’s gaze, and something worse: fear. The kind of fear that a child experienced when they heard thunder and sought their parents for comfort, something boyish. Benjicot had never liked the killing — not like some men did — but war had taken that choice from him long ago.

The knight’s grip on Benjicot’s arm weakened, his body growing limp. He hesitated before he wrenched the blade free, the Lannister collapsing back into the muck with a groan that barely registered against the storm. Benjicot rolled off him, chest heaving, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he lay in the blood-soaked mud, his back becoming wet as water seeped through the plates of armour; leaving the layers beneath clinging to his skin as his eyes closed. He did not know how long he lied there — it felt like an eternity, listening to the sound of death that surrounded him, his sword by his side and wracked by exhaustion.

“—halt!”

Footsteps stomped towards him, unwilling to move as he waited — waited for the inevitable and unwilling to fight more, he slowed his breathing and opened his eyes to look up at the grey skies that hung overhead, forcefully blinking through the relentless downpour, “Benjicot!” The voice shouted, coming towards him, “Ben!”

He registered the voice suddenly as Emrys, soon finding him at his side and dragging him up by the collar. A look of relief crossed his cousin’s features as Benjicot sat up, grabbing his shoulder and supporting his weight, “You had me worried there, my lord,” Emrys breathed out, a hint of forced humour in his voice.

He couldn’t even muster a laugh, finding the thought alone draining as he closed his eyes and slumped in relief, his own hand clinging to his cousin’s elbow, “I am still here,” He muttered, “you are not free of me yet.”

His cousin laughed, “There is plenty more to celebrate today then.”

Emrys stood, offering a hand to him -- his eyes darted to it, a dull ache settling into his bones at the thought of moving, “I cannot.”

“Yes, you can,” Emrys replied, a young knight being summoned forward from behind him, both men quickly taking either side of him. Benjicot let out a choked yelp, groaning as they dragged him up to his feet, stumbling a step and wincing as he struggled to remain on his feet; the adrenaline of battle had begun to wear off already, “Easy now…take it slow.”

His face screwed up in pain, letting out a sharp exhale from his nose and gritting his teeth as Emrys wrapped an arm around his middle and watched his expression with a clear look of concern that only reached his eyes, “Are you ready?”

Benjicot gave a short nod -- although his legs still felt weak, he did not want to appear vulnerable, his movements slow and shaky as he stood upright. He could feel as Emrys kept a hand close, hear the sound of his leather gloves as his fingers wriggled, ready to catch him, “What updates do you bring from the frontlines?” He quietly asked, his voice still possessing a weak tremor. His cousin hesitated, watching him a moment longer before he glanced towards the knight who looked equally as prepared to catch and break his fall.

“Lord Charlton and Lord Forrest Frey have too been slain,” Emrys announced, his eyes scanning his appearance as the young lord turned, limping on unsteady feet to achieve the task. Benjicot exhaled sharply, “As well as two thirds of the winter wolves, but there is more…”

The losses seemed to accumulate and with each man down, Benjicot felt a sense of dread grow heavier by each passing minute, resting in his chest and slowly sinking into the pit of his stomach and churning there. His brows twitched, worry lines etched deep into his young features as he sighed deeply and nodded as if to encourage him to speak; however, he was met by an optimistic glint in his cousin’s gaze as he shifted, “Both sides suffer heavy losses…”

“Why are you so smug about that?” He breathlessly asked.

“They retreat,” He suddenly interrupted, too excited for his own good. His voice lowered, watching as Benjicot struggled to process his words, “In exchange, your uncle has intervened in their efforts to summon for more men and we have slain Humffrey Lefford himself, leaving them crippled-- today, those who remain have begun to retreat. If they do not meet death by sword, they drown. Today, we celebrate a success for the Blacks.”

His gaze settled on him, his words sinking in finally. He glanced past him towards the sight of some remaining men, mounted on horseback that circled the grounds, rounding up some remaining men -- the distant clash of battle was lighter, the sound of an anguished shriek filling the field, a horse whinnying…it did not feel like a win, but his words sparked some hope, “This will be a success for our men,” Emrys repeated, “Raventree and its heir stand still, the rest of the craven Lannister men retreat, like a dog with its tail between its legs.”

“Lord Swyft? The men of Crakehall?” He asked, his blade being shoved into the ground and leaning into it for support. His eyes shifted again towards his cousin.

“Few remain,” Emrys replied.

“Have we accounted for Lord Reyne?” He asked, dismissing his celebration as he withdrew his sword from the mud and slowly pushed past him to ascend the field once again. He could still hear and faintly make out the bodies, the sound of battle reverberating from up the hill with the harsh clash of weapons; trudging through the mud. Pain tore through his ribs, sore as he moved and listened, his cousin in tow.

“Throat slit, he was found among a pile of wolves,” He replied quickly, glancing down at his own feet as he stepped over the body of the young Lannister knight -- Benjicot, however, avoided to dare look down; disregarding the sickening crunch beneath his right foot as he nearly tripped over the arm of another boy who lay only a few feet away, “I assume the poor fuck did not stand much a chance against them. Looked as though they surrounded him and took their turns apparently.”

The thought made his stomach turn, grimacing in disgust as a shudder ran through him, glancing over his shoulder to witness his cousin’s nonchalance on the matter. He understood that war was gruesome and violent, bloody and messy -- it had a way of bringing out the worst of men. But he could not help the inkling of sympathy he felt for Lord Reyne in that moment, repulsed by the image and fighting the urge to vomit as he hesitated, swallowing thickly as he pushed forward -- some sun had managed to peer through the clouds, his eyes narrowed as he let out a gruff hum in response.

He knew Lord Reyne had a wife and children back home -- two young boys that Benjicot had grown up alongside, having met them briefly in his childhood. He’d never considered them friends, and especially nothing anywhere close to the brotherhood he shared with the Tully boys, but he wondered how they would react to the news of their fathers passing. He had struggled with the news of his own father’s death and had been numb in the weeks afterwards, but he had been a man grown with his own responsibilities that forced him to keep moving forward — he couldn’t imagine still being a boy of what, ten-and-four? He couldn’t quite remember their ages, nor picture what time had done to change their faces, but he imagined they looked more like their father as the years passed — an idea that felt more daunting the more he pondered the thought, knowing that his wife would have to come face-to-face with that reminder every day of what they had done to him.

He sniffled, feeling the sudden sting of tears that welled in his eyes, pressing forward — blinking, he attempted to force them back down. Benjicot was horrified by the thought of things being reversed, imagining Serra being the wife to receive news that her husband had died instead. He was worn and exhausted, and he just wanted to be home and in her arms — he did not want to even entertain the image of her grief-stricken and left to raise their child alone. He let out a quiet sob, a choked sound that he attempted to conceal with a cough, clearing his throat as he was suddenly grateful for the rain.

Finally, he paused and scanned the shore. Benjicot's hand trembled as he clutched the hilt of his sword, the rain dripping off its blade like blood washed away by the gods themselves. He stared down at the bodies that littered the shore, the slain men no different than he had been mere hours ago — sons, fathers, husbands.

The stillness of death suffocated him, each face a reflection of what could have been, what still might be. The Lord Reyne he had struck down had not been so different from him — a man with a family, with duties, with hopes for a future that would never come. His chest tightened as the image of Serra’s face drifted into his mind again. He imagined her receiving a letter, trembling hands ripping it open to reveal the worst news a wife could hear. He pictured her alone in their chambers, clutching their child, eyes red from crying.

He shut his eyes tight, letting the raindrops mingle with his tears. Would she move on? Could she? Benjicot cursed himself for thinking it. He had been raised on the stories of glory and valour, where men died heroes and songs were sung of their deeds. But this, this was not glory. This was hell. The bitter taste of it was on his tongue as he swallowed hard, pushing down the emotions that clawed at his chest.

“My lord?”

He turned his head slightly, finding the young knight who had helped him to his feet — he recognized him from years of training alongside one another, a man only a year younger, looking at him with a subtle frown, “We must find Robb,” he thickly replied, avoiding his eyes as he sniffled again.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Serra watched the babe in her arms with a look of awe, his face scrunched up as he awkwardly fumbled around, mouth open and growing increasingly frustrated as the moments passed. Her fingertip brushed his small nose, rounded and perfect as the room was filled by a soft shushing, attempting to soothe him when he released an angry whine, a tiny, clenched fist rising against her chest and bumping against her sternum; he squirmed against her body, “Patience, my little love…” she sweetly said, her voice quiet, “find your way.”

Serra quickly lifted her gaze to the wet-nurse who was silent throughout the whole duration of her attempt, her eyebrows tugging into a worried frown, “I feel as though he does not want me,” she sighed, “is it something I am doing?” She asked, looking down again at her son.

The wet-nurse watched from her place near the wall, eagerly ready to step forward and intervene at the first sign of distress as she held her breath — her hands anxiously twitched at her skirt, “It takes them time to find the breast sometimes, m’lady,” She finally spoke, her accent thick and voice soft and nurturing, “I have always found boys to be a little slower to take to nursing, they require a little more guidance. Might I?”

She let out a defeated sigh, giving a feeble nod as she allowed the wet-nurse to approach. The woman knelt in front of her, gently tucking the blanket down more from his face that had become red with frustration, letting out a cry that made Serra want to shrivel up and die, disheartened as she softly shushed him again and gently bounced him; his nose bumped her nipple when he turned his head, mouth opened and blindly seeking her, but only meeting flesh, “Bring him closer,” the nurse instructed.

She adjusted him in her arms, bringing him closer with assistance from the nurse, his arm outstretched against her ribs and wailing, “I know, my dear boy, I know…I’m sorry,” she softly spoke, anxiety beginning to creep up within her chest.

“Align his nose…” she instructed, “with the nipple, and bring him…” she murmured, her voice trailing off as she supported his head in her palm for a moment to fix his positioning.

The nurse withdrew her hands to her lap as Serra wordlessly obeyed, bringing her son into her chest and guiding him to her breast as she’d been directed — a wave of relief washed over her as his mouth finally found her, latching around her and reluctantly suckling, “There you go,” she whispered encouragingly. She looked up, giving the nurse a tired smile and letting out a soft laugh as she bowed her head with a warm smile of her own and stood to her feet.

The room was once again silent, filled only by the uncomfortable sigh from Serra after a moment as she was overcome by her let-down and her son’s breathing. The sensation was not one she had yet to become accustomed to, but one she welcomed as a means to bonding with the sweet boy who appeared content for the first time that afternoon. She withdrew a hand from underneath his back, still supporting him with her left arm in order to tenderly stroke his cheek as he fed, absentmindedly rocking him from side-to-side, “Is it normal…to experience pain?” She asked in a quiet voice that was barely above a whisper after some time had passed, finding that he had begun to nod off to sleep.

“At first,” The nurse replied.

“It’s been nearly two months, though.”

Her nurse hesitated, glancing towards the babe, “I can summon the maester if you would like, my lady.”

“I do not wish to bother him,” she said, shaking her head, “I can bear some discomfort, I just worry.”

The nurse smiled, “You needn’t worry, my lady. You are a natural, it is a gift from the gods.”

Serra wanted to laugh out loud, feeling like anything but after struggling with the simple task these past weeks, angry that her body seemed to fail where it should have thrived — something so natural did not come with ease, the way she had expected. She had not been prepared and that had become abundantly obvious when he had first been born, terrified of doing anything wrong and upsetting him; every cry made the hair on the back of her neck stand and she felt as though she had been on edge since his birth. There was no tea or herbal remedy that could have prepared her for the amount of anxiety that had flooded her body the minute he was born, and what came after, once he was no longer safe and protected by her womb. Her wet-nurse meant well, but she was bitter and tired, lowering her head to look down at her son again and watching as he suckled, even in his sleep; his eyes closed and fluttering, fine, dark hair curling into his forehead.

The quiet hum of the nursery lulled Serra into a brief sense of peace as she continued to rock her son, her eyes trained on the soft rise and fall of his chest. His dark lashes rested delicately against his cheeks, still flushed from the earlier ordeal, but now serene and undisturbed. Serra allowed herself a tender smile, brushing her fingers gently through the fine curls that framed his forehead. Yet beneath that fragile peace, the weight of worry gnawed at her. She felt it in her bones, an ache that ran deeper than the discomfort in her chest. It wasn’t just the challenges of motherhood that plagued her now—there was a tension she could not shake, a fear that had taken root since Benjicot had ridden off to battle. It was the not knowing, the endless waiting that frayed at her already delicate nerves. The thought of her infant son becoming the Lord of Raventree made her sick with nausea, debilitated by fear of the idea.

Her gaze drifted to the window, where the fading light of day was giving way to dusk. The lake was out there, somewhere beyond the mist and trees, where her husband fought to protect their home and people. She wanted to be hopeful, to believe in his strength and the bravery that had always defined him. But every distant sound, every muffled voice beyond the nursery door set her on edge, her mind conjuring the dark possibilities.

The soft rustle of the wet nurse’s skirts drew her attention back to the room. The woman had moved to the corner, silently keeping watch, her expression one of gentle concern. Serra gave her a quick glance, but words stuck in her throat. Another sigh escaped her lips as she shifted her son slightly, cradling him closer against her body.

A soft knock filled the room, a pause following — her eyes found the nurse who immediately stepped forward and used her body as a shield, Serra’s hand reaching for the blanket that surrounded her son to lift it to cover herself as much as it would allow, “Come in,” Serra announced as the door then slowly edged open.

Grace crept inside, quickly closing the door behind her and keeping her head lowered as she entered the room, “I apologise for my disturbance, my lady.”

Serra tilted her head to look around the nurse, finding Grace’s eyes, “It is quite alright, Grace,” she assured, “what is it?” She asked, her eyes lowering to where her son shifted in his slumber.

Grace visibly hesitated, her hands clasping and unclasping in front of her, “It is your lord husband, my lady,” she quietly said.

Serra felt herself tense up, her eyes lifting and clenching her teeth as she found her nurse looking at her — she had yet to hear the next words, but she was frozen in place as dread settled heavy in her bones, her heartbeat thundering in her ears as she absentmindedly brushed her son’s cheek, “What of him?” She finally choked out after a moment, her voice low in an effort to sound steady.

She could hear the slow, hesitant shuffle of Grace’s footsteps that crossed the room until she was inches away; stopping so she could kneel in front of her, her gaze fixed on her face, “Many have been wounded in battle, my lady,” She said, her voice soft and warm, but holding a firm edge to it. Serra wanted to let out a cry, nodding stiffly after a pause, “But he has returned. The maesters are with him and his men as we speak…” She continued to explain.

Despite her words, Serra felt shame in admitting she did not care about the others -- she did not care that the other men had made it home, or that they were wounded -- she did not care for any of them at that very moment. The only thing she could focus on was the mention of her husband, hanging onto her words as she was overcome by a confusing slew of emotions, storming within her like a downpour of rain and thunder that enraged the seas, like the gods themselves had crafted it and taken vengeance out on the common and noble folk alike. Her relief was muddled by her sadness, her grief, fear of what almost was, still on edge and anxious like she was expecting to be told there was some mistake and that Benjicot had not made it home; that this news was some sort of miscommunication and that his body had been so mangled, they had mistook him for another man. Her stomach churned, clutching her son closer to her body and fixing his blanket with a restless, shaky hand as her eyes focused on his sleeping face.

“...Ser Henry was wounded but he is expected to make a full recovery...”

She wondered if it made her a terrible person to care so little for others in favour of Ben, as long as it meant he was unscathed and safe. There had been no doubt that the war would take, take, and take from all those of the realm as far South and North as one could fathom, and that nobody would be left untouched by the carnage and grief that would entail, but there had been no preparing for just how bare the battles would leave the realm in the aftermath -- with each battle, she felt as though Raventree became emptier and quieter than it had been all those months prior; once lively and full, she now noticed the gaps as time progressed.

She, too, still noticed her father’s absence.

It hadn’t yet been a year since his passing and the loneliness that had followed was not something she could have prepared herself for, either. She hadn’t seen her brothers in months and had been forced into mourning his loss alone whilst they were off to their own devices; she had sent ravens but only received three each in the time since they had left four months earlier. Kermit had since returned to Riverrun to take over as Lord Paramount, and Oscar was sent to the frontlines of battle and distracted by the new found responsibilities of Knightship. She found herself envying them for having something to distract themselves in those early days, while she had been ordered to bedrest almost immediately after she had found out she was expecting; news that, while good for Raventree and its future, she struggled to find comfort when she first felt the barely there little flutters and stirring in her belly. She had barely had time to mourn the first babe she had lost months earlier, only for her father to pass forty-five days into his ascension to head of House Tully; forty-five days after her grandsire. The past year had been a blur of grief and tears and anger that still lingered.

“…I can summon him, if you would like,” Grace suddenly said.

She was drawn from the thought, her eyes lifting to find hers; a greyish blue that Serra found rather pretty in the light — she was a pretty girl, she had come to conclude over the past year, but for once, she couldn’t concentrate on the thought. Instead, she silently stared at her, processing the suggestion and listening to the rhythmic, quick sound of her son’s breathing for a moment; deep and steady as he let out a tired whine, rolling against her as a small hand came up to rub his face. She looked down, catching his fist with her fingers and pulling it away from his cheek as tiny nails attempted to scratch at the delicate skin, leaving behind a faint red line from where he had made contact, “No…no,” she quickly replied, “I will not summon him like a dog to heel, I can go to him.”

“My lady?” The nurse asked.

Serra slowly stood, withdrawing her son from her chest and beginning to pull the front of her dress up and back over her chest; unsteady on her feet as she steadied herself against the chair briefly. The nurse quickly took the babe from her arms, a look of uncertainty being passed between the two women as Serra sucked in a shaky breath, attempting to straighten out her dress, “Help me, please— I cannot go to him looking a mess,” She instructed.

Grace snapped into action after a short-lived hesitation, coming forward and working quickly to straighten the low shoulders of her dress; she stepped around her to straighten the backing against her shoulders with swift, nimble fingers. Her hands rose to smooth out her hair, pulling it back from the loose hanging style after having eagerly torn out the pins from earlier; cascading down her back and curling around her face from the sticky humidity that trickled in through the window and left the air thick and hard to choke down, “Shall I braid…”

“No,” Serra sighed out, “no…it is fine. Just leave it.”

She felt a hand grab the back of her dress as she attempted to step forward, forcing her back again as Grace let out a soft breath, “Let me at least pin it from your eyes, my lady,” She quietly said, reaching up and beginning to pull the few stray strands that hung in her eyes back.

She wanted to protest further, but found herself unable to, settling into silence and allowing her to pin the hair back; secured by a pin at the back of her head with one final brush with her fingers, attempting to tame the curls. Her hands smoothed down the front of her dress as she leaned forward to press a final kiss to her son’s forehead, giving him one last look before she heaved out a sigh and hurried towards the door.

Grace stepped back as Serra adjusted the front of her dress one last time, her fingers trembling slightly. She cast a final glance at her son, now dozing peacefully in the nurse’s arms, the red mark already fading from his cheek. For a moment, her resolve wavered — the pull to stay, to hold her child just a bit longer, was strong. But she knew she had to see him. She had to see Benjicot.

With a deep breath, Serra straightened her spine and nodded to Grace. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she turned toward the door.

The cool air of the hall greeted her as soon as she stepped outside the room, the thick humidity fading slightly. Her heart raced in her chest, the familiar excitement bubbling up again. She couldn’t help it — the eagerness was overwhelming, nearly impossible to restrain as she heard an uproar of cheers from beyond the walls. Without thinking, Serra gathered her skirts in her hands and began to move, her steps quickening with each passing moment.

She did not mean to run but she could hardly contain her eagerness to see him, skirts gripped in her hands as she rushed down the halls of Raventree, eyes wide and turning her head to try and look outside through the windows; attempting to catch a glimpse out the window of the returning men and her husband through the yard, though unsuccessful. She could hear the voices, however, excited and clamouring to approach and congratulate the men on their success at Lakeshore outside the great hall, already picturing the council gushing over her husband, his face smug and probably just eating it all up. She could barely move fast enough for her liking, a handmaiden on her heels as she just about leapt down the stairs.

“My lady!” Grace gasped, reaching for her as Serra launched down the stairs, hand reaching out to grip the railing with her eyes cast down to wake sure she didn’t trip over her own feet; bare feet padding across the cold, stone floors.

She could now see the clamour of men, armour amidst the crowd but her husband was still hidden from view, wildly searching for him among the men. Suddenly, she noticed the councilmen huddled around a figure, clasping the man’s shoulder and nodding, pridefully beaming as they spoke in hushed tones, “You did good, my lord. A great success for Raventree and the Riverlands.” The old, balding man praised with a hand on the shoulder of her lord husband, whose back was turned to her.

She stopped at the base of the stairs, watching as he nodded, voice quiet in replying his thanks to the men, head turning slightly to glance at the men who were still buzzing with excitement over their win; bloodied and rowdy, though her husband was quiet, sighing as she watched his eyes scan the crowd. He turned slowly as though he was searching for someone, his mouth pressed into a fine line and eyes narrowing, the bags under his eyes signifying his exhaustion — he’d aged significantly these past weeks, exhausted by the war, evident even from afar. He looked the opposite of what she had imagined, something bordering melancholic appearing on his face as his gaze found her, expression softening and shoulders relaxing at the sight of his wife; his clenched fists wrapped tight around the hilt of his sword on his waist belt. He released his hold on the weapon for the first time in days as he started to approach her; shoulders bumping bodies, caring very little that he shoved men in the process as he moved towards her. He was just eager to be near her — another first in the past month, as he reached for her once he was close enough, his hand finding her waist and gripping the fabric of her dress to pull her towards him.

She clung to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as his arms slid round her back and reaching a hand up to press to the back of her head whilst burying his face into her hair. He took in a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of her. They stood in silence like that, content with each other's embrace for the moment before he reluctantly leaned away, her hands cupping his cheeks to hold his face in her hands, still chest-to-chest as they stared back at one another.

Benjicot couldn’t find it in himself to do much speaking, silent as he withdrew at the sudden realisation that something had changed. His features pinched into a frown, confused as his eyes dropped to her belly, any signs of being swollen with babe fading as her body slowly worked to go back to what it had previously been and heal; one hand reaching out to brush his fingers down her belly, stopping just below her naval — a comforting gesture that Benjicot had gotten used to doing throughout the past several months, palm resting flat against the bump of where their child grew each day. Though this time, there was emptiness when his hand stroked over her abdomen, nearly flat and almost as though their babe had never even been there — though both her hips and chest were fuller, changed in order to support the life that grew within her.

Her hands moved to both cover his, taking his hand between both of hers and bringing the bloodied knuckles to her mouth in a sweet kiss, drawing his eyes back to hers. A feeling of dread settled deep into the pit of his stomach, bile crawling up the back of his throat and leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, fearful of the worst as his fingers laced through hers, his mouth opening. Though he was left wordless and stammering stupidly as a small whine came from behind her as a wet nurse came down the stairs behind his wife, her arms filled by a wiggling bundle that reached up with small, chubby hands — both his wife and him turned towards the woman who approached them, her gaze down at the small face that peered back at her; small features screwed up with a cry.

“Here, I can take him.” Serra said, releasing her husband's hands to retrieve the infant from the wetnurse, slow and ever so cautious as she took the bundle into her arms; making sure to adjust her arms correctly as she then turned in the direction of Benjicot, who stepped forward, “Come meet your boy, Benjicot,” She softly said, voice barely above a whisper as she smiled, shy as she looked up at him.

He scanned her face, blinking before looking down at his son, hesitantly closing the gap until he stood over the both of them, his right hand lifting to gently stroke his son’s head amidst the blankets. Pride swelled in his chest at the sight of their infant son, letting out a chuckle that was more air, in awe as he then brought his hand to the cheek of his son, his finger stroking the soft, youthful skin, “A boy.”

“Aelor Blackwood.” She quietly said, his gaze shooting up to her face quickly in response to her words.

His other hand lifted to cup her cheek, a smile spreading across his own face as he let out a content sigh, “My beautiful wife,” he said, his voice laced with adoration as he leaned forward to press a kiss to her temple. His gaze returned to the boy in her arms as he squirmed, face screwing up with a soft whine after being woken from his slumber — Aelor blindly turned towards his hand with an open mouth and attempted to bring the digit to his mouth for comfort, “and you my dear boy, you will make a fine knight one day,” He quietly said.

“Might I hold him?” He asked after a moment, looking up to find her eyes.

She seemed taken aback, a smile slowly spreading across her face as she leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, “Of course. He’s as much your boy as he is mine.”

He felt foolish asking, he realised, as she was right -- from the curve of his nose to the dark hair that curled into his temples, his eyes aimlessly wandering to watch no particular thing as he cooed. He watched as his fists balled, gaze scanning his surroundings and briefly pausing to look up at him -- Benjicot swore his heart stuttered, softening immediately as he looked upon Aelor, who was so blissfully unaware of all that he had done or who he had been before that moment. He was innocent in all of this.

Benjicot slowly stepped around her, his head lowered and disregarding any further need for engaging with the council and their mindless chatter, praising him -- he didn’t need to listen to know what more they had to say to him. He felt as she clung to his side, her hand finding his elbow and following his slow pace up the stairs, afraid to disturb his son with any sudden jostles; his steps slow and cautious as they ascended the stairs, ever so grateful as the men remained silent behind him. There would be celebrations for days -- he knew that. But they could begin without him, only once he was nestled away in the safety of his chambers.

It would only be then that he could mend from the day’s events, and breathe for the first time in days. Feel safe for the first time in months.

Serra’s fingers brushed the back of his neck, her fingers carding through his hair and brushing her thumb along his nape; her wide, brown eyes watching him with a look like he was a living god among them, a shy smile threatening the corners of her mouth. Her hand dropped between his shoulders as they walked, finding his eyes when he slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The room was still filled by the soft coo of Aelor, while Benjicot sat on the edge of the bed and held him in his lap, cradling him to his chest as the babe sucked on his fingers. The bunched up blankets were loose, allowing him to freely wriggle as he dozed off, his eyes half closed already as the fire continued — Serra had been grateful for the extra hands, belonging none other than to her son’s father, rather than that of another wet nurse. She admired the women who committed their lives to raising noble children almost as though they were their own, and she could not have survived those early days without them — but she did not enjoy the practice of becoming so uninvolved with one’s children, that women would never hold their own child for years at a time; she could hardly fathom the thought of not having Aelor in her arms for more than a couple of hours, used to the weight of him against her chest and cradled into her like he was a piece of her that existed outside of her body.

Her mother had been so hands-on and involved with her and her brothers, having established a strong bond with her own children from birth — Serra wanted nothing less for her own children.

Watching Benjicot, she relished in the thought that Aelor would have exactly that — just as she did, content and knowing the safety of his parents arms as Ben caressed his cheek with a thumb; lulling him to sleep with quiet stories of his own youth, revelling in the fact that he was a Blackwood through and through. He was a spitting image of his father, and that of his before him — she could only imagine the relief that he had a piece of his father again, one to love and cherish and carry with him even in his passing. His adoration for the boy was already clear, his eyes softening and voice soft, quiet and loving as he spoke, unwilling to let him go; gently using his fingers to bring his hand down and away from his mouth as Aelor attempted to suck again on his fingers, his face scrunching up in a frustrated whine, head twisting to the side -- he let out a soft ‘sh’ in an effort to soothe him.

Serra watched from the fireplace, brushing out her hair as she sat on the bench in front of it, her eyes never leaving the pair. It warmed her to watch the interaction, a small smile on her face as she briefly slowed her pace in fixing her hair, pausing a moment as Aelor released a final whine; his eyes closed as sleep overcame him. It was a miracle, she thought, how he could find sleep even in his father’s lap so quickly -- there had been no buffer period in which he needed to warm to Benjicot, and seemed to instinctively already know he was safe and that this man was no stranger -- like he knew this was the man who had spoken to him for several months from outside the womb, whispering stories to him before he had entered the world.

She set down the brush, standing slowly and twisting her ring as she approached her husband, careful not to make any noise, too scared to breathe in fear of waking the raven-haired infant whose breathing slowed with slumber; his eyes fluttering with dreams of whatever peaceful things babes dreamt of. She planted a hand on Benjicot’s shoulder, resting her chin upon it and looking down to where he was still hyper focused on their son, afraid to look away for even a moment; he quietly fixed the blanket, tucking it around him with cautious, gentle movements, “The ladies should be taking him to the nursery soon,” She softly said, her eyes on him.

For the first time in an hour, his gaze lifted to look up at her, “One moment longer,” he pleaded, his knuckles brushing underneath his chin and eliciting a slight twitch of his face as he looked down at him again, “I feel as though I have missed a lifetime already.”

There was a melancholic tone in his voice as he gazed at him, tugging at her heart and replacing her joy with an aching sadness. She couldn’t bring herself to summon the nurses and maidens who would soon take him away; knowing she’d had a month and a half with him, while Benjicot had only a few hours. Though she tried not to dwell on it, she was painfully aware that it was only a matter of time before he would be called back to battle, with no guarantee of returning unharmed and being as lucky a second time around. Serra let out a shaky exhale of air, lowering her head to press a kiss to the crook of his neck.

His head turned quickly at the sound of her sigh, searching for her face as she kept her head down and unable to meet his gaze. Benjicot’s eyebrows furrowed, voice softening as he attempted to beckon her attention back to him, “Serra,” He said, “Look at me.”

She slowly lifted her head, her bottom lip folded between her teeth as she forced a brave, nonchalant front, her eyebrows raising with a simple hum of acknowledgement. But he knew her well enough that he could see the tension that had become of her, her mouth a tight line as her fingers pressed further into his shoulder, holding his clothing tight within her fist as blinking unnaturally. Benjicot swallowed, looking down to her lap, “Let them bring him to the nursery now, it’s growing late.”

She nodded, unwilling to argue as she carefully scooped Aelor from his lap; his hands nervously following hers as he was lifted, cradled to her chest as he leaned forward to press a final kiss to his temple. Serra slowly walked towards the door, her exchange with the wetnurse who hovered outside the door brief and quiet to the point that Benjicot could not make out a word -- his eyes followed her movements as she leaned down to kiss his forehead, sliding him into the older woman’s arms and stroking his head as she turned and began to retreat down the hall with their son. Even then, she remained in the open doorway, leaned against the frame while she anxiously picked at her nails, twirling her fingers.

She closed the door after a moment, clicking it shut and turning to cross the room towards the fireplace where she abruptly stopped. Benjicot settled back on to the edge of the bed, beginning to shed his clothing in preparation for sleep, his eyes still focused on her and unable to tear away; he could make out the wringing of her hands, her shoulders tense and rigid as the silence dragged on, sensing that her thoughts were anywhere but there.

She moved finally, her head turning right slightly to look at him from the corner of her eye.

“What of my brothers?” She asked, referring to Kermit and Oscar. Her dear brother Oscar, who was barely a man-grown, his face still young and boyish when she had last seen him, eyes still possessing some trace of innocence having not seen war before. Her chest ached at the thought of him in battle, bloody and bruised — but he had their father’s blood in his veins, he was fearless and could fight hard, surely.

“Strong as ever.” Benjicot replied in a low voice, feeling as he approached from behind, having listened to the sound of fabric and clinking that dropped over the seat, until he was stripped down to his under layers. His chest pressed to her shoulder blades as he brought her towards him, an arm wrapped around her waist and secured her in place with a firm hold while the other trailed hand trailed up the length of her arm until his fingers wrapped around her shoulder. His forehead rested against the crown of her head, relishing in the warmth she radiated after being away from it for the past month and three weeks, his eyes closing as she let out a sigh, “Your brother has been rather busy with the responsibilities of his new lordship— but he is fierce, brave.” He mumbled into her hair.

Her own arms dropped to place over his own, her hand finding his at her waist while her eyes remained on the flames of the fireplace, emitting heat to the rest of her chamber. She was comforted by word of her oldest brother, a small, pensive smile coming to her face; Benjicot’s hand moving from her hold to press to her abdomen while a hand of hers remained overtop his, “Oscar is as equal a fierce leader,” He said, face moving from her hair to drop to her shoulder, his mouth pressing a kiss to the bare skin there.

It brought her some relief to hear that they were both safe and well, presumably having returned to their house by this point — relieved by the news that they were alive and otherwise safe. The war had already taken enough. Benjicot sighed, a defeated sound as his head twisted to press his cheek to the plane of her shoulder, both arms lacing around her waist. Her fingers absentmindedly traced along his forearm, “I’m sorry.”

“You needn’t apologise, Ben,” she easily replied.

She had counted every minute, every hour, waiting for the day she received word of his return — it felt pathetic at first, eager to receive news that he had come back. But time drew on, and as her anxieties grew, she cared little for how desperate she appeared — she was alone and terrified for six weeks, “I do and I’m sorry I left you to do it alone…” He said, voice small like a child, “I worried about you every day.”

Serra leaned further into Benjicot, relenting and allowing herself to melt into the warmth of his embrace, her eyes still fixed on the flickering flames. “You didn’t leave me alone,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the emotion beneath it. “You were always here, Ben. In my thoughts, in every moment, you never left me.”

Benjicot pressed another kiss to her shoulder, his breath warm against her skin. “I should have been here. I should’ve seen him, held him...”

She turned in his arms, placing a hand gently on his cheek, guiding his gaze to hers. “You will. He’s here, and so are you. We’ve all had to make personal sacrifices in these times,” she quietly continued, her other hand bringing his face to hers and releasing a sigh through her nose, “I only worry about you.”

“Please don’t,” he replied, attempting to lean in and press a kiss to her mouth. She withdrew, leaning back and furrowing her brow at him — he hung there, halfway between them and lips still slightly puckered as he sensed her scepticism, letting out a sigh as his gaze scanned her face, “You do not have to worry about me.”

Her expression softened, once again dodging his lips as he leaned forward again, “I’m your wife. It’s my duty to worry about you.”

She offered a small, tight smile before leaning in and finally pressing a kiss to his mouth.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

His fingers trailed up and down along her spine, her chest to his as she sprawled over him on her front, her cheek pressed to his collarbone as she nestled her face into his neck. Benjicot had found her to have dozed off to sleep some time ago, but had found it difficult to follow — instead, he’d found himself focused on the fields beyond the walls of Raventree, watching as sunrise slowly filled their room. The chill of the morning had crept in through a window that had been left ajar, a light breeze blowing in through the room and leaving goose flesh in its wake; only warmed by her skin, soft and possessing a comforting scent of lavender and roses.

He had tried to sleep, but it was useless he’d realised after two hours of trying. He wanted so badly to distract himself momentarily with sleep, but every time his eyes closed, he found himself back on the shores of the Gods eye — covered in dirt and overtop the Lannister boy whose name he’d never known. He wondered if they’d ever met before — if at some point in his twenty-one years, if they had met in passing, and if so, how old were they? Where had it been? Had he remembered him or were they complete strangers?

Serra had stirred against him, her head turning to face away from him, letting out a deep breath as she settled. He leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of her head, his nose nuzzling into her hair and inhaling the familiar scent that he’d come to associate with home and comfort.

He had startled awake after several attempts, his eyes burning with exhaustion but too panicked to find rest, finding that the night had since passed and morning was already upon him. With his heart racing, he accepted that sleep would not come to him — he wondered how long this would last. The night terrors and haunting images of his face, of his men, dead in the sands and leaving behind children and wives. How long would it be, before he found sleep again?

The thought was disturbed by a soft knock, his entire body going tense as Serra twitched, letting out a tired moan of complaint. He waited for a moment, his eyes on the door before a second knock followed after a minute, cursing internally as he peeled himself away from the bed; careful to ease her into the pillows and off of his chest. After he tucked the blanket over her, he sought his shirt amidst the floor and hurried to pull it over his head, hardly in the sleeves as he rushed to the door to open it with a scowl on his face.

Emrys stepped back quickly, giving him room to step out, his eyes widening for a moment and readily offering a quiet apology, “Good morrow, I…apologise for waking you so early, cousin.”

“Whatever it is, could it not wait until this afternoon?” Benjicot snapped, his voice a harsh whisper as he pulled the door against his back, leaving it slightly ajar as his hand tightly gripped the handle of it behind him. The wood pressed into his spine as he briefly twisted his head to glance back inside the room, his gaze falling upon the sleeping frame of his wife, who lay beneath the blankets, clutching to the pillow beneath her and unaware yet of his absence. His departure had yet to be noted, “We’ve only just returned, could you not have at least allowed me one day of rest before bombarding me with matters of council? Serra does not need this so soon.”

“You know I wouldn’t disturb you if it was not urgent, Ben,” Emrys quietly replied.

He turned his gaze back to where Emrys hesitated to say more, his mouth wordlessly opening before he brandished a letter from beneath his belt; still sealed and neatly rolled with the familiar symbol of House Chambers. Benjicot’s eyes flitted between his face and the scroll, his expression hardened as his mouth pursed with a frown, sighing and finally releasing his hold against the door to retrieve it from his grasp — he hands made swift work in cracking the seal and unrolling it, the sound of paper rusting in the silence of the corridor. It wasn’t lost on him that he wouldn’t receive news so soon after his return if it wasn’t something serious, but he’d been optimistic despite his fears that there would at least be a buffer period in which he could find rest, heal his body and soul before even considering the idea of returning to battle — as annoyed as he was, he was sad equally terrified, turning the paper to scan the words that had been messily scrawled across it. His head angled, craning to read it and silently reading with narrowed eyes as Emrys waited for some sort of reply, some sort of acknowledgment to its contents.

His frown mirrored that of his cousin’s, his head shooting up and lowering the letter, “They believe it is Vhagar.”

“And have they confirmed this?” He asked.

“No,” Emrys replied, “based on the reports, they are quite certain however.”

Benjicot let out a bitter laugh, his eyes rolling as he quickly crumpled up the scroll and pressed it back into his hand, “I’d like to confirm the identities of the dragon and its rider before unnecessarily terrifying my wife and son,” he said, shifting his stance.

Emrys gave a curt nod, his gaze lowering — the two men were quiet, Benjicot’s shoulders rising and falling with a deep sigh, “Have them write a letter to House Chambers to write to us as soon as they have confirmation, and what they would like for us to do— House Tully should be made aware as well,” He instructed, “have them draft a letter to Rhaenyra, requesting for a dragon for protection in the meantime. We cannot face Vhagar alone if it is true.”

Emrys muttered a soft, “Of course.”

He turned on his heel, attempting to walk away before he was grabbed by the neck of his cloak, pulling him back as Benjicot raised his eyebrows, “Bring the letter to me before it is sent, I would like to personally oversee the task.”

He nodded, “Of course.”

Benjicot released him, giving a singular nod before he allowed him to depart; his eyes following him down the hallway until he was out of sight. With a clenched jaw, he turned and quietly crept back into the room, suddenly overwhelmed and nauseous as he closed the door again behind him, his eyes finding Serra in bed as he did his best to prevent the soft click from drawing any attention to himself. Once he was in the clear, he tiptoed back towards the bed and hesitated at the edge of his side; his eyes downcast on his wife who had yet to wake, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks — he sighed, a hand reaching out to brush over her hair.

He chewed the inside of his lips as he slowly sank back into the bed beside her, her expression twitching as he nudged her back into him and against his chest — she blindly sought him, moving with a huff, “Sorry, my love,” he whispered.

“Who was it?” She asked.

Benjicot shook his head, not wanting to further worry her as her cheek pressed against his sternum, “Just…one of the guards,” he lied, “just some updates from last night’s patrol.”

She tiredly moaned, not seeming to process his reply as he settled back against the pillows. A silence passed, his eyes darting up to the ceiling of their bed before she spoke again.

“Whatever it is that plagues your mind, husband, do not feel as though you must carry its burden alone,” She quietly muttered, her face still against his chest and eyes closed as she spoke. His hand cradled the back of her skull, letting out a deep sigh that moved her, “it is ours to share.”

“This is not…” He began to protest, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Your scars are mine, it is as much mine to shoulder as it is yours,” She interrupted. Her head lifted finally, tired eyes watching him as he looked up at the ceiling, his jaw clenching, “What is it?”

He didn’t mean to sulk. He would argue that he wasn’t. Her index finger tapped his lips however, pursed as he let out a sharp breath, blinking rapidly and rolling his eyes as his head lolled to the side, while he looked out the window once again. Serra’s finger traced his jaw, brushing back and forth in a soothing gesture despite the internal turmoil he felt -- he soon sighed, any tension melting away from his shoulders as his chest rose and fell with a slow exhale from his nose, “I killed a boy out there and he is all I see when I close my eyes,” he quietly explained, “they haunt me. I see the faces of those I fought against, and the ones I fought beside. I see my mistakes… the ones I made when I was overwhelmed, and the ones I made when I was too calm, too sure of myself. But that boy…”

A silence befell them aside from the quiet sound of their breathing as she rested her chin against his collarbone, watching him as she then moved to sit up on her elbow, “He can’t have been older than five-and-ten,” Benjicot stated, a distant tone in his voice like he was not fully present.

Serra couldn’t have imagined what it would have been like to be his mother — what had he left behind? What life was waiting for him back home? Friends? A betrothed? She could hardly envision being that age amidst a war, a time when her only concern had been worrying over mastering a simple stitch as she embroidered a pillow. She had grown up strikingly different to these men, especially the women who were brave enough to fight alongside them — Serra had never held a sword for longer than a half second as a girl, much less a weapon, as she had been too clumsy to be trusted in their presence and just had never had that urge to fight or learn the craft. Her head turned, dropping her chin and pressing a kiss to his bare chest, she then allowed her lips to linger against his skin.

She could hold him at no fault though — war was a pesky thing that forced even the kindest of men to turn their cloak and embrace the worst, innately dark impulses within themselves. Her heart ached for the thought of the boy whose name she would never know, and the possibility of what he was leaving behind; despite that this was just the routine of war — young boys forced to kill on behalf of ageing men and lose their lives in the process, traumatised and in need of their fathers…she sighed against his skin, pressing her cheek to his shoulder.

“You wouldn’t have done it if you’d had a choice,” She said.

“I did have a choice though, did I not?”

Her hand lifted from his jaw to brush across his forehead and brushing back his hair, scanning his features and taking the opportunity to refamiliarize herself with them; at the core, he was the same man who had left her two months prior, but as she looked at him, she could see the effects of war. A frown line had since etched itself between his brows, embedding itself into his skin that had become dull and dry in appearance, and his once soft lips now chapped. His eyes appeared sunken from the weeks of sleepless nights that she assumed had been plagued by nightmares of his battles — upon moving the hair out of his face, her index finger found a freckle on his forehead, brushing over it with a delicate brush of fingers, “And what choice might that have been, my love?” She asked.

His mouth twitched as though the words were on the tip of his tongue, but he’d yet to figure out how to give them life and say them aloud. His eyes darted around for a moment, “His death and its impact is not mine to understand, but you did what was necessary in that moment,” she softly spoke, “our son and I both needed you and you fought for that. Just let me help mend that wound, do not bear its weight alone and let it crush you, Benjicot— you are only a man.”

He hesitated. Benjicot did not like to lie and had been taught the honour of truth and honesty — but in that moment, he could not bear the idea of worrying her more with the thought of a dragon overhead. He wanted to blurt out the truth, but he knew better, “Okay,” he said, lifting a hand to catch hers and bring it away from his face to bring it to his mouth. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, “okay.”

TAGLIST: @username199945 @cxcilla @thethiccestdaddy @deltamoon666

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@clarityisnofun

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@majoso12

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#benjicot blackwood #davos blackwood #benjicot blackwood masterlist #kieran burton #house of the dragon #benjicot blackwood fic #hotd #house blackwood #davos blackwood fic

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bobalegsanji · 4 months ago

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Masterlist 𓏲.ೃ࿔❀˙˖ ｡

BobalegSanji

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Are you there? -> ‘’This didn’t happen.’’ ‘’It did, and we’re going to talk about it,’’ Zoro says, not caring about what Sanji has to say. ‘’You’re not doing well, and we’re going to fix it.’’ Sanji sighs. He’s still leaning on Zoro, he desperately needs Zoro’s steadiness as his feet occasionally trip over one another. ‘’I’m doing just fine,’’ he responds, barely audible.

Modern Zosan AU. Fluff/Angst. Words: 11,824.

Trigger Warnings: disordered eating, anxiety/panic attacks, depression, self-worth issues.

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Trust me -> Late night talks between a certain cook and a swordsman. Or, Sanji feels the need to learn more about Zoro after Thriller Bark. Or, Zoro needs to learn more about Sanji after Whole Cake Island

Zosan. Words: 7,806. Chapters: 2/2,

Trigger Warnings: mentions of anxiety.

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I've got you -> Sanji closes his eyes, leaning into the feeling of the warm hands on his face. ‘’Please…’’ he whispers, ‘’I… Please. Promise me you will if I ask.’’

Zosan. Words: 3,976. WCI spoilers!

Trigger Warnings: self-worth issues, implied/referenced self-harm, implied/referenced childhood abuse

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Umakemenotwannadie -> Sanji just needs a little love in a world that couldn’t care less

Modern magic AU. Zosan. Chapters: 6/?.

Trigger Warnings: depression, substance abuse, implied drug addiction, past childhood abuse, panic/anxiety attacks

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Paranoid (again) -> Sanji can’t move. The arms around his neck keep him trapped in place. He can feel a wet spot on the side of his neck, but he can’t offer Nami any support right now. He’s too busy fighting back his own tears.

Zosan. Modern AU. Words: 5,401.

Trigger Warnings: gender dysphoria, depression, suicidal thoughts, implied/referenced to self-harm, substance abuse

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Don't fight that feeling -> Sanji's insecure about his dreams. Usopp reminds him it's not just his dream.

Sanuso. Words: 2,486

Trigger Warnings: anxiety, implied/referenced depression, self-harm

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Take me out of my mind -> Zoro thought he knew everything about Sanji. So why hadn’t he noticed Sanji slipping up? The answer is obvious. It swims around in Zoro’s thoughts, day and night, for the past few days. He had known. He had just hoped Sanji would be able to solve the problems himself. But as it turns out, Sanji couldn’t.

Modern Zosan au. Words: 2,910.

Trigger Warnings: suicide attempt (aftermath), substance abuse, drug abuse, refereces to depression

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childotkw · 6 months ago

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Title: you belong to me (i belong to you)

Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Rating: Not Rated

Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley

Characters: Harry Potter, Tom Riddle, Abraxas Malfoy, Avery Sr. (Harry Potter), Lestrange Sr., Nott Sr. (Harry Potter), Orion Black, Albus Dumbledore, Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Time Travel, Body Swap, Riddle at Hogwarts Era, Slytherin Politics, Slytherin Harry, Grey Harry, Auror Harry, Mind Games, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape Aftermath, Underage Rape/Non-con, Suicide Attempt, The Non-con is not between Harry and Tom

Chapters: 20/?

Chapter Summary:

“Why are you even here?” Simon demanded after he let the pause stretch too far, puffing up with indignation. It did nothing to hide how his gaze roamed along the hall again, or how that fear from earlier came bludgeoning back to the surface, eating away at the last vestiges of Simon’s self-control.

Orion blinked at him, intrigued at how someone as ruthless and self-serving as this boy could, at the same time, be so easily shaken. The dichotomy was so strong that he had to wonder how Simon even functioned day-to-day. Surely the other boy would drive himself mad trying to align those two aspects of himself.

“I’m here to check up on my friend,” he answered calmly, head swaying to the side as he waited. When Simon finally found the nerve to meet his eyes once more, Orion let his mouth curl up meanly, and struck. “Why are you?”

#HP #ybtm(ibty)#update #harry potter #orion black

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wangxianficfinder · 1 year ago

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I'm in the mood for...

Feb 9th

LINK LIMIT REACHED (check out the replies for more recs!)

~*~

1. hello!! itmf request for jiang cheng time travel fics. no jc bashing please and thank you ♥️ and ✌️

Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Fix-It)

For Both Of Us (And Time Is But A Paper Moon) by sami (E, 65k, wangxian, JC & WWX; JC & LWJ, LWJ & LXC, Canonical Character Death, Mentions of Rape, not explicit but definitely referenced, Time Travel, Not Everyone Dies au, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, WWX/babie tendencies, WQ is a queen in any reality, Healing, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Canon Divergence, Asexual JC, First Time, Getting Together, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, WWX finds new ways to be oblivious, seriously it surprised even us) JC and LWJ time travel together

🔒 a path with thorns Series by baekhyun (baruna) (T, 22k, JC & WWX, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Brotherhood, Complicated Relationships, JC-centric, Spoilers, Sibling Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, Dysfunctional Family, Humor, Angst, not romance-oriented)

Hand in Hand Together (All Your Life) by sami (T, 41k, WZL/JC, WangXian, Queerplatonic relationship, Implied future MingLi, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Slow Burn) just JC time travels

~*~

2. for itmf, are there any fics in which wei wuxian does not reincarnate, or any modern aus in which he dies? /bunnycoffeeumcat

Threadfic by lamusadelils (LZ prepare WY body for funeral)

goodbye, wei ying by wordsonpage (T, <1k, wangxian, Major Character Death, Modern, Growing Old Together, Established Relationship, Character Death, Angst and Feels, Death from Old Age, Angst, Reminiscing)

Lament by kianspo (G, 8k, LSZ & LWJ, LXC & LWJ, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Grief/Mourning, Slice of Life, Character Study, Canonical Character Death, except he doesn't come back, as this covers decades, eventually other people die, Mysticism, this is pretty sad y'all, i'll be honest about that, though i was aiming for melancholy, One Hundred Years of Solitude mood)

🔒 Entropy by mondengel (Not rated, 1k, wangxian, Major Character Death, Angst, Character Death) Wy dies a second time

Nothing but a Dream by Purplemagic (G, 1k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Angst and Tragedy, Not A Happy Ending) Wy die a second time

🔒 …and other dreams. by mondengel (E, 2k, wangxian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Charater Death, Eldrich au, Horror, Gore, Body Horror, Murder, Death, A/B/O, Mpreg, Dark fic)

Obvious Progression by GammaRays (M, 21k, wangxian, Major Character Death, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Modern, Disease, Illnesses, Chronic Illness, Cancer, rare disease, Fabry disease, Artist WWX, Medical Procedures, Hospitals, Angst, Non-Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Surgery, this is just very sad all around, there are some light-hearted moments too though, like proms and crocheted thigh-highs, Sick LWJ, Sick WWX)

Obvious Conclusion by FairyGardenCorgis (T, 7k, wangxian, Major Character Death, Modern, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Cancer, Grief/Mourning, Medical Procedures, Hospitals, PTSD)

Freefall by cherrywhiskey (T, 1k, wangxian, Modern, Hurt No Comfort, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Angst and Tragedy, Grief/Mourning, Aftermath of wwx's murder, Dead WWX, POV LWJ, Dark LWJ)

🔒 rest by pasteltea (T, 3k, gen, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Angst, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Character Study, Modern, Grief/Mourning, Introspection)

~*~

3. Hi! Do you know any fics which center Nie Huaisang or him just having a bigger role in the fic? Can be anything, NHS ships, him just being a facilitator, modern era, whatever! It would be great if he's kinda scheming for the benefit of his friends, or s/t where someone has the hots for him and he's surprised?

Story-Shaped by lingering_song (T, 13k, NHS & WWX, wangxian, Post-Canon, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Inventor WWX, Found Family, NHS needs a new hobby, And apparently that's spoiling his Wei-Xiong, Mentioned Character Death, Alcohol, Protective NHS, WangXian Endgame, Not JC Friendly, Not particularly gentry sects friendly overall tbh) NHS takes WWX in post-canon

Second on 🔒 like mayflies wandering series by RoseThorne (E, 21k, NHS & WWX, wangxian, Assassination Attempt(s), Introspection, Regret, Travel, Post-Canon, POV Third Person, POV WWX, Ghosts, Reconciliation, Exhaustion, Pining, Pre-Wangxian, Pining, Feelings Realization, Illnesses, ennui, Found Family, Porn Reading, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Manipulative NHS, Memories, WWX Needs a Hug, Pining WWX, Friendship, NHS Is A Little Shit, Qi Deviation, Resentful Energy, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Triggers, Fainting, Anal Sex, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Grief/Mourning)

Friends, Sabers, and Other Essentials for Solving a Conspiracy by MeridianGrimm for Lisa_Telramor ( T, 50k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Mystery, Smart NHS, WWX doesn’t stay dead, LWJ gets a new friend, Happy Ending, Fix-It, To be clear the WangXian is mostly background, This fic is about friendship)

The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (T, 19k, In-Universe RPF, Romance Novel, Post-Canon Fix-It, primarily drama-canon with cameos from novel-canon)

Something Divine by jusrecht (T, 3k, NHS & NMJ)

CH 3 of second verse, same as the first by Cerusee, Mikkeneko (T, 42k, wangxian, Everybody Lives, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Crack Treated SeriouslyS, erious Conversations That They Never Got To Have In Canon, JC has no filter when he's mad, Even Some People They Maybe Would Rather Didn't Live, canon-typical trauma, even if it hasn't happened in this timeline they still gotta deal with the memories, reference to child death, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, WN Lives, WQ Lives, this is absolutely positively definitely Wei Wuxian's fault, Memory Loss, Implied/Referenced Suicide)

the problem with authority by isabilightwood (M, 139k, WangXian, JYL/WQ, QS & JYL, Canon Divergence, Sacrifice Summon, only the summoner sticks around, slightly dark JYL, WQ lives, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chronic Pain, Mild Sexual Content, Switch Wangxian, WWX has to be resurrected & LWJ find out before they can interact, but there’s plenty of wangxian once they do, manipulative relationship)

while covered in mud by merthurlin (T, 12k, NHS & WWX, NHS & NMJ, NHS & Wen remnants, mentioned wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, NHS goes farming and Hates It)

Crazy, Rich Cultivators by ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 13k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, POV LWJ, īthis started as a crazy rich asians au but quickly got away from me, light moments of angst but mostly shenanigans)

The Mustache by Fortune_Maiden (G, 2k, JGY & NHS, JC & NHS, LXC & NHS, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Humor, NHS grows a mustache, there is much despairing)

Walking Along a Different Road by Anonymous (Not rated, 5k, MS & JGY, MS & NMJ, MS & NHS, NHS & NMJ, JGY/NMJ, WIP, Angst, Canon Divergence, POV MS, MS Lives, Good Parent MS, Hurt/Comfort)

there is no limited dimensions by Stratisphyre (M, 104k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, WQ/MM, WN/Other(s), Star Trek Fusion, Canon-Typical Violence, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Assumed Character Death, Minor Character Death, Tags on Each Chapter, references to non-con, references to canonical slavery, (The Orion Syndicate is just really bad okay?), bizarre space mpreg, Implied Future Pairings, POV Multiple, The Author Indulges in a Crack Pairing or Two, Accidental Child Acquisition, Found Family, Genius WWX)

Kiss of the Rose by sami (M, 8k, NHS/OFCs, NHS & NMJ, NHS & MXY, NHS & JGY, Family, original trans female character, Falling In Love, Enemies to Lovers, but only one of them knows it at the time, Pining, Getting Together, First Time, First Kiss, NHS drinks Respect For Women juice, courting, Please read notes)

day without night and night without day by xcourtney_chaoticx (T, 27k, NHS & NMJ, LXC/NMJ, JC & WWX, Ladyhawke Fusion, Inspired by Ladyhawke (1985), Animal Transformation, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Attempted Forced Marriage, evil JGY)

the more things seem to change by littlebasketbun (G, 26k, LXC/NMJ, JC/NHS, wangxian, Modern, High School, Matchmaking, failed matchmaking, oblivious idiots in love)

The Same River Twice by nirejseki (Not rated, 17k, NHS & NMJ, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, Unexpected development)

Counting Brushes by Fortune_Maiden (T, 6k, NHS & NMJ, NHS & WWX, wangxian, canon divergence, fluff & crack, humor, hurt/comfort)

🔒 Just Children to War by Anonymous (T, 4k, NHS & NMJ, Angst, Niè Siblings Dynamics, Niè Siblings Feels, Post-Episode 10 (CQL), Hair Brushing, Hair Braiding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, NHS Needs a Hug, POV NMJ, Early Sunshot Campaign, offscreen death)

silly love songs series by wildwestwind (E, 67k, wangxian, 3zun, JGY/XY, NHS & LWJ, LXC & LWJ, LWJ/WWX/WN, JC/NHS, JGY & XY, XXC/XY, LWJ & WN, WQ & WWX, JC & WWX, Sex Work, Consensual Non-Consent, BDSM, Bad Decisions, Angst, Blow Jobs, Modern, Sex Worker Author, Masturbation, Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Kinkphobia, Self-Hatred, Unhappy Ending, Horny Teenagers, Guilt, Past Rape/Non-con, LWJ is sad and horny, Baking, Politics, Hackers, Trans Female WWX, Aftercare, play piercing, bad polyamory, Marriage Proposal, Homophobia, Class Issues, Face Slapping, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Jealousy, Verbal Humiliation, Tenderness, Affection, Dubious Consent, JGY is a bad person and oblivious to his feelings, Drunkenness, Drunken Confessions, Fluff and Angst, Autistic Character, Autistic LXC, Kid Fic, Autistic LWJ, Trans Female NHS, Childhood Friends, Impregnation, Fluff, Worldbuilding, Bickering, inappropriate use of university library access, Biology, Sadism, Mutual Pining, Self-Indulgent Political Arguments, JGY is so bad at feelings, Porn with Feelings, Falling In Love, Alzheimer's Disease, nursing homes, Sharing a Bed, Fake Marriage, Sickfic, Misgendering, Misgendering Kink, JC Needs a Hug, JC Has Self-Esteem Issues, Kink Negotiation, JC is Bad at Feelings, JC is Bad at Communicating, POV JC, Protective JC, Domestic Fluff, everyone is happy, brief use of reclaimed slurs, Internalized Transphobia, Humor, Drunk Sex, Loss of Virginity, Eating Disorders, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, College/University, Confused Takes On Feminism, Crossdressing, Penis In Vagina Sex, Barebacking, Post-Divorce, Therapy, Friendship, Christmas, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Cultural Differences, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, WWX Needs a Hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, POV WWX, WQ Is Bad At Medical Ethics, Pining, Grief, Porn AU, Twitter, Idiots in Love, it's not so much that WWX is pushing WN's boundaries as that WN's boundaries are feather-light gossamer and WWX is a very oblivious freight train)

shades of grey spill from my veins (bleeding ink all over the page) by Reverie (cl410) (M, 58k, NMJ/LXC, wangxian, NHS/WN, POV NMJ, Canon Divergence, Joining the “Wei Wuxian raised by the Nie Sect” Club, Mentions of WWX’s life on the streets, Hurt/Comfort, Accidental Sibling Acquisition, Single Dad NMJ, NHS & WWX Friendship, Fluff, Humor, Happy Ending, Everyone Lives AU, Protective NMJ, Sunshot Campaign, Some angst, Blood and Injury, Kidnapping, Protective Siblings, Found Family)

Jailbreaking by CullenBlue (T, 21k, WN & NHS, Canon Compliant, POV NHS, NHS Is A Little Shit, Cinnamon Roll WN, Fierce Corpse WN, Ghost General WN, References to Heavens Official's Blessing, References to The Scum Villain's Self Saving System, NHS insulting the Wen Clan's taste in interior Decorating, Mentions of Murder, WN made a friend by talking about his childhood trauma, BAMF WN, Panic Attacks, mentions of gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Violence in the Name of Comedy, Trauma, Is NHS taking anything seriously? who knows, Bromance)

the final cut by Wildehack (tyleet) (E, 19k, SangYu, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicidal Ideation, Emotional Manipulation, offscreen child death, extremely ill advised sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Grief/Mourning, basically it's a BUMMER) is good but angsty with a bittersweet ending (because it's canon compliant)

~*~

4. Hi!!!!! Thank you so much for everything that you’re going you are literal life savers 🥺🫡

For the next ITMF do you have anything like

A) “On Impulse” by Rynne

B) Or you know that one fan art of teen wwx kissing lwj and lwj being shocked and blushing (pinterest link : https://pin.it/7vWC7oRZ9)

C) And also do you know any fics where wwx shows blatant favoritism towards lsz and the other juniors are jealous till they discover he’s his son ??

Anyway thank you so much ✨✨✨✨✨✨ /ihaveasoftspotfora-yuan

Keep Up by mimilamp (E, 27k, WangXian, High School, First Time, Practice Kissing, Practice hj, Infidelity, Sexual Content, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Pining while fucking, Teen Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dirty Talk) Not sure this is a great fit for #4 as it is both a modern AU and angsty, but it is teenage WangXian getting into it

~*~

5. Hi, I’m in the mood for a fic where... The Untamed is in Top Chef or other cooking shows? I know there are three complete about the great British bake off and also Battle Chefs by Sami, but I want... no, I need more!!! Also, any others about dancing show besides the Wangxian Strictly AU Series by Selenay and Unstrictly Ballroom by Ariaste that I found in the lists here!! I love reality TV fics!! I have read all the ones in the Reality TV list!! Be well and thanks!! Monica /monicaop21

we’re dancing around the kitchen by livinginaworldofnoise (G, 37k, WIP, WangXian, HuaLian, Reality Show, Modern AU, Worst Cooks in America AU, Cooking, Bad Cooking, war crimes committed in the form of cooking, Crack, Fluff, content warning for absolute unhinged chaos, XL Can't Cook, Simp HC) is a Worst Cooks In America AU MDZS/TGCF crossover

and from our own/live to ourselves by betweentheheavesofstorm (M, 105k, wangxian, modern, fantasy, reality tv, angst w/ happy ending, survival, blood & gore, self-harm, animal death, slow burn) is a made-up reality show in Antarctica (fair bit of angsty, be forewarned)

~*~

6. Hi! First off, thank you for everything you guys do! Much appreciated!

This one might be a bit off-topic, as not necessarily wangxian, but... I've been reading through your juniors shenanigans list and I was wondering if you can help? If not, 100% ok, and thank you anyway!

A) something with LJY meeting bb!a'Yuan? De-aged, time travel, or missing scenes from canon, it's all good!

B) anything with my main darling OZZ as the/one of the main characters? Junior-centric fics are so much fun! (Or they're soul-destroying, but in the best way.) /katonahottinroof

6A)

Time, Time, Time by skeletonofaplant (G, 44k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, WWX & LSZ, JYL & JL & JZX, LJY & LSZ, Time Travel Fix-It, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Angst, Fluff, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Time Travelling Junior Ensemble, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Humor) The Juniors go back in time. LJY ends up at the Burial Mounds

Of Bunnies and Childhood Dreams series by iamtheelvenprince (T, 39k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, LSZ & LWJ, LJY & LSZ, Post-First Siege of the Burial Mounds, Pre-Canon, The inbetween years, Teacher LWJ, LWJ Has Feelings, POV LWJ, Child LSZ, LSZ's Childhood, Poor LJY, Family Feels, Supportive bros, Gūsū Lán Sect, LWJ loves his students, bad teachers, What happens when LQR isn't home, LWJ's ducklings, Supportive LXC, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Bunnies, Protective LWJ, LJY-centric, Child LJY, Sad LJY, Good Kid LJY, teachers playing favourite, unsupportive teachers, Literal Sleeping Together, Sleepovers, Baby LJY, Baby LSZ, LWJ loves his boys, LXC is overworked, Give LXC a nap, Light Angst, Family Bonding, LXC needs a hug, Lantern Festivals, memorial service, Secrets, Secret family, LQR loves his boys, LQR as the best great-uncle, Hurt, Suicidal Thoughts, Loss, Grief/Mourning, Broken Promises, Finding Ones Self, Self-Reflection, Brotherly Love, Brotherly Affection, Hurt/Comfort, Tragedy, Protective LXC, BAMF NHS, NHS-centric, NHS Needs a Hug, Manipulation, LWJ & NHS Friendship, Aftermath of Fatal Journey, Betrayal, Petty LWJ, Good Uncle JC, Good Parent LWJ, Protective LJY, JGS Being an Asshole, JGS Being an Idiot, JGY Being JGY, massive time skips, Teaching, Serious Injuries, Graphic Description, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Damage, Sad Dreams, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Madam Jin deserved better, JC-centric, POV JC, JC Needs a Hug, JC Needs Therapy, Gūsū Lán Juniors Dynamics)

no time for crying by Narci (T, 10k, WangXian, Wwx protection squad, Age Regression/De-Aging, Kid WWX, kid LSZ, night hunt gone absolutely right, (lowkey golden core fix it), Fluff, Angst and Feels, Humor, Juniors)

Back in time by LilacNeko (T, 32k, wangxian, Time Travel, Alternate Timelines, Fix-It of Sorts, Angst, Family Feels, Good Kid LSZ, LSZ Needs a Hug, Sad JL, JL Needs a Hug)

6B)

🔒 卧薪尝胆 by RoseThorne (G, 1k, wangxian, OYZZ & WWX, Petty LWJ, Bunnies, False Accusations, scapegoating, Cultivation Sect Politics, Chief Cultivator LWJ, POV Third Person, POV WWX)

🔒 Four Parts Honey and One Part Vinegar by masked (T, 13k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Fluff, Humor, Time Travel, Wangxian in Love, 5+1 Things, Jealous WWX, the Impeccable Trust between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, POV Outsider, everyone is Thirsty for Hanguang-jun as one tends to be)

visions of glittering rooms by Sour_Idealist (T, 1k, A-Qing/OYZZ, A-Qing/OYZZ/LJY, Modern USA, Alcohol, Poor Movie Theater Etiquette, Drunk Postmovie iHop)

between the pages of some novel by yuer (vintageblueskies) (T, 7k, JL & OYZZ & LJY & LSZ, wangxian, Post-Canon, Case Fic, Curses, Sex Curse, non-explicit discussion of sex and porn, junior shenanigans, the mortifying ordeal of trying to figure out if your seniors are having sex, no sex happens in this fic, the author attempts humor)

Important Distinctions by nagi_blue (T, 5k, gen, Fluff and Crack, Podfic Available)

Linger in the Sun by etymologyplayground (T, 39k, wangxian, JC & WWX, Case Fic, Intimacy, Curses, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, Romance, Sexual Tension, Scent Kink, WWX Loves To Teach, wangxian are married, Fluff, nonsexual intimacy, Scars, Sharing a Bed, Nonverbal Communication, this is HEAVY on the symbolism, Translation in Russian)

~*~

7. Is there any fics where LWJ just loses it and slams WWX into a wall or onto a bed or something to kiss him? Like, he just can't take it anymore,, his restraint is GONE! WWX is just too tempting he needs this boy NOW (bottom WWX only pls no implied/referenced switching either oh and no rape it must be consensual or WWX approved CNC)

🔒 感情用事 by rosethorne (T, <1k, wangxian, Frustration, Anger, Embarrassment, Grief/Mourning, Biting, First Kiss, Getting Together, Canon Divergence, POV LWJ, POV Third Person)

🔒 joined delight by RoseThorne (M, 1k, wangxian, underage, fast burn, Making Out, Marking, Frottage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Gūsū Lán Forehead Ribbon, Marathon Sex, Implied Sexual Content, Love at First Sight, Swords, Horniness, POV Third Person, POV LWJ, Canon Divergence, Cloud Recesses Study Arc)

~*~

8. Are there any fics where wangxian are A) babysitters or tutors and meet through that? or B) run a stall/work at a store?

8A)

💖 But really, why? by Scrippio (T, 52k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, WQ/JC, Modern, College/University) features Wei Ying & Lan Zhan as tutors, though I can't remember if that's how they met.

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9. heyy admins! itmf more darkji fics where lwj is possessive of wwx, something like 'so he thinks he's Straight (a memoir by lan zhan)' by pancho. thanks!!

A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 84k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, graphic depictions of violence, underage, LWJ pov, JC pov, dark LWJ, manipulation, grooming, teen body adult mind for LWJ, happy ending for wangxian, problematic consensual underage sex, blood & violence, insane LWJ, manic LWJ) LWJ is very dark & possessive in this

~*~

10. hi!! i’m itmf for a fic where wwx time travels to the modern era. i’ve seen some fanart and short twitter threads about it where lwj explains modern tech to him and he’s all amazed, but haven’t stumbled upon any fics.

i also wouldn’t mind fics of the reverse where lwj time travels /nalalie

🧡 The Shade of Old Trees by Kryal (T, 128k, WIP, WangXian, Ridiculously Long Notes, History, Canon Divergence, Modern AU, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Slow Life, Action/Adventure, Magic Returns, BAMF WWX) it's not time travel in the traditional sense, instead he gets trapped in ice for 15 hundred years. But he does get taught modern Chinese and technology by LWJ and LSZ! Plus protective WQ and NMJ are so fun to read ^^ - Mod C

结局难更改 (the ending is hard to change) Series by PorcupineGirl (G, 50k, WangXian, Modern with Magic AU, Canon Divergence, Time travel, Reincarnated LWJ & LXC, YL WWX, Reincarnation, Secret Identity, Identity reveal) has WWX time travelling to the modern day rather than falling to his death

counterpart by queensmooting (E, 37k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Parallel Universes, Multiple Selves, Kid Fic, some child endangerment (everyone will be fine), lwj can and has gotten pregnant, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, bittersweet ending (ymmv)) way too much time/dimension travel

🔒 不忘 | Don’t Forget by dragongirlG (E, 50k, WangXian, Modern AU, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Reincarnation, Fix-It of Sorts, Identity Porn, Social Media, Reunions, Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Bondage, References to Canon, Artist WWX, Sexual Content, Pining, POV Multiple, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note)

atlas in his sleepin’ by anatheme (E, 48k, WangXian, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Reincarnation, Family Reunions, Dimension Travel, temporary transmigration, Transmigrator!LWJ, Yunmeng Shuangjie Reconciliation, jzx motherhenning wwx, First Time, Sharing Clothes, Angst with a Happy Ending, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies) it not a time travel but WWX teach LWJ modern tech and depend on your interpretation it could be time travel fic, i think?

Wrong Turn, Right Place by diamondbruise (E, 71k, WangXian, Time Travel, kind of, it’s more reality travel but there’s modern wwx and cultivator lwj, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jealousy, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Cultural Differences)

take me back to a time by DizziDreams (T, 143k, wangxian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, College/University, Modern with Magic, Time Travel, Sharing a Bed, Fish out of Water, Man Out of Time, WWX questionable decisions, LWJ lizard brain, Angst with a Happy Ending, WWX's lack of self-preservation, Student WWX, Time-Traveling Wizard LWJ, Slow Burn, Character Death, reference to abuse, Canonical Character Death, Canonical Abuse, Canon, LWJ, Canon-Typical Violence, Mutual Pining, Chronic Illness, Not A Fix-It, WWX be like "i should be scared but instead im just horny", feat: LWJ horny grip, Podfic Available, Case Fic, Russian Translation Available, Transmigration, America, Spanish Translation Available) lwj accidentally time travels to the modern era

Echoes of Love by Witch_Nova221 (M, 212k, WangXian, Modern AU, Eventual Romance, Time Travel, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, university lecturer LWJ, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Dark BSSR, Amnesia, Memory Loss, 1980s music, LWJ loves all things 80s, Oxford vs Cambridge, Boat Race, References to Torture, Murder, Blood and Injury, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mystery) is brilliant with an interesting premise

~*~

11. Do you know any fic (preferably wangxian) where wwx accidentally calls jyl mom ???? The thought popped up in my head and I can’t stop thinking about it 😅😂 /ihaveasoftspotfora-yuan

~*~

12. for itmf!!! no wips pls

A) longer fics w sugar dating or service top!!

B) in which one of them is a single parent, or kid fics really

12A)

November Baby by astrophyllite (E, 172k, NMJ/JC, Modern, College/University, Sex Work, Sugar Daddy, Slow Burn, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, Condoms, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Frottage, Switching, JCn Has A Praise Kink, Hair Brushing, Hair Braiding, Dog Bàxià, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamics, Emotionally Significant Duck Figurines, Trans JZX) mingcheng not wangxian but if you're okay with a different ship

❤️ All Old Things are New Again by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (M, 52k, wangxian, modern, reincarnation, sugar daddy, kink negotiation, gentle dom LWJ) aaaand some wangxian sugar dating ones that the requester probably already knows about, but linking just in case / is basically a truly wonderful twist on this premise

how to fall in love with a catfish: a guide by wei wuxian (disaster rat) by bwyn, Yuisaki (T, 54k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Actors, Multimedia, Online Friendship, Drunken Shenanigans, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Underage Drinking, Drinking Games, Families of Choice, Ensemble Cast, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Catfish AU)

The Sugar Daddy AU Series by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 106k, wangxian, modern, sugar daddy, sex work, dom/sub, aftercare, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, bondage, boundary setting, relationship negotiation) is basically perfection of this premise

finally safe (for me to fall) by sassybluee (E, 77k, WangXian, Modern: No Powers, Sugar Daddy, Age Difference, Sex Work, Rich WWX, Older WWX, Service Top WWX, Poor LWJ, Single Parent LWJ, Sugar Baby LWJ, Family Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Cockblocking, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, No Lube, Lube, Addiction, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Implied/Referenced Abuse, wangxian + others) is a complete flip of the typical premise - Wei Wuxian as the sugar daddy

12B)

❤️ save a sword, ride a socialist by sysrae (E, 33k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, College/University, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Single Parent WWX, Homophobia, LQR’s A+ Parenting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Idiots to lovers)

🔒💖 Everyanything by deliciousblizzardshark & lingeringdust (E, 46k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Gender Identity, Gender Dysphoria, Trans WWX, Protective LWJ, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Is it bad parenting to bring a baby on a nighthunt, Canon-Typical Misogyny, Fluff and Angst, Vaginal Sex, Canon-Typical Major Character Death)

💖 The Best I Can by Zephyr (ZephyrAndTheSilverfish) (T, 26k, LJY & WWX, wangxian, canon divergence, light angst, drama, recovery, coming of age, secret identity fail, rogue cultivator LWJ, road trips, happy ending)

The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (E, 70k, WangXian, Modern AU, Accidental baby acquisition, Kid fic, Green card marriage (but not really), Slow Burn, Endless Pining, Happy ending, [Podfic of] The Simplest Way Forward by knight_tracer)

when the sun goes out by travelingneuritis (E, 176k, WangXian, Modern AU, Modern Cultivation, tech cultivation, Necromancy, Angst with a Happy Ending, insecurity around adoption, Dad!WWX, dad!lwj, Grief/Mourning, Mistaken Identity, Mood Whiplash, Body Swap, sex tears!, Falling In Love, Consensual Somnophilia, apocalypse (localized), Smut, unrealistic sexual stamina, Flashbacks, Time Skips, Illustrations)

Across the street to another life by danegen (M, 99k, WangXian, Modern AU, unleashed au Family Fluff, Set in America, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Addiction, Crime, Amnesia, Ableist, Language, another fridged mother, POV Alternating, past wwx/ofc, past wwx/omc, Medium parent YZY, A-Yuan is wwx’s biological son, Musicians, Happy Ending)

❤️ kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst, [Podfic] kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight by contributor-sky (deepestbluesky), esbielle was also here (esbielle), glittercracker, GodOfLaundryBaskets, jellyfishfire, kisahawklin, Koontyme, Rionaa, semperfiona))

🧡 CSI: Gusu Edition Series by Stratisphyre (M, 39k, WangXian, WWX & LQR, Modern with Magic AU, College AU, Golden Core Reveal, Single parent WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Hospitalization, Allusions to violence and murder)

Magic Mishap by Regency_Bunny (T, 8k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Single parent WWX, Fluff, Humor, Kid Fic, Meet cute, Love at first sight, Himbo LXC, Magic tricks)

my little love by mellowflicker (T, 54k, WangXian, Modern AU, Single Parent WWX, kindergarten teacher!lwj, Kid Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Pining)

I know what my heart wants by yakuso5u (Not Rated, 28k, WangXian, Modern AU, Single Father LWJ, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Accidental Child Acquisition, Domestic, Slice of Life, Christmas references)

Window Shopping by thunderwear (E, 18k, wangxian, Modern, quarantine fic, Single Dad WWX, Getting Together, Long-Distance Relationship, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Happy Ending, First Time, Phone Sex, switching POV, Domestic Fluff, some smut)

These Things Stay the Same by notevenyou (E, 30k, wangxian, Modern, Kid Fic, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, Injury, Natural Disasters, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hospitalization, Accidents)

say it's here where our pieces fall in place by Lirelyn (E, 68k, wangxian, Family Feels, Modern, Angst with a Happy Ending, Kid Fic, Adoption, Foster Care, most of the angst is backstory and we're working through it, several characters have had therapy thank god, there's a good amount of domestic fluff but also a lot of crying, Often at the same time, oh yeah eventually there will be smut, possibly also with crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Podfic Available)

box your errors by mellowflicker (T, 42k, wangxian, Modern, single dad LWJ, Domestic Fluff, Family Issues, Slow Burn, Kid Fic, let LWJ have friends agenda, Hurt/Comfort, Pining)

The stuffed bunny, the beautiful nephew, and other gifts from Lan Qiren by deliciousblizzardshark (G, 8k, LQR & WWX, wangxian, Modern, Single Parent WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Uncle Acquisition, Found Family, Fluff)

🧡 your heart, two doors down by ghostsgf (G, 9k, WangXian, Modern AU, Pining, Parenting)

🧡 paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3 (E, 53k, WangXian, Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Everyone Is Alive, Modern AU, Dadji, Mutual Pining, Happy Ending, Brief Alcohol Mention, Masturbation, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Accidentally co-parenting with your son's art teacher, Fatherhood)

🔒Betting On You by kuro (G, 5k, WangXian, Domestic Fluff Single Parent WWX, Neighbors, Modern AU, Pining, Music Teacher LWJ, Programmer WWX)

Can we keep him? by Sweetlittlevampire (G, 15k, WangXian, Modern AU, Shapeshifters, Animal Transformation, Friends to Lovers, Kid Fic, Single Dad WWX, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Modern with Magic, [Podfic] Can we keep him? by Rionaa)

~*~

13. Hi!

A) I would like to ask you to find some wangxian fics with multi chaptered royal au .

B) Omegaverse fic where wwx is a strong omega

Thanks

13A)

我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 84k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan)

travelers through the empty gate by stiltonbasket (M, 107k, WIP, WangXian, Royalty, Emperor WWX, Mistaken Identity, Poor LWJ, Bookshop owner LWJ, Intrigue, Court Drama, Forced Marriage, Confused WWX, POV Alternating, Parenthood, Misunderstandings, Empress LWJ, Requited Unrequited Love, Fluff, Humor, Married Life, Angst with a Happy Ending) my fic fits the bill!

shattered mirrors by besanii

🧡 The Emperor's Portrait by catbrainedschemes (E, 32k, WangXian, Historical, Ancient China, Historically Inaccurate, Meet-Cute, Mistaken Identity, Age Difference, Sexual Tension, Happy Ending, Fluff, Emperor!LWJ, artist!wwx, Misunderstandings, Hand Kink, Strength Kink, Smut, gege kinkl, ots of staring, Dirty Talk, Canon-Typical Bondage) (link in royalty au comp)

True Gold Fears No Fire by defractum (nyargles) (M, 69k, WIP, WangXian, Royalty AU, Ancient China, Wuxia, Historical Inaccuracy, Arranged Marriage, Identity Porn, Mutual Pining, Emperor!LWJ, empress!wwx, Eventual Happy Ending, Misunderstandings) (link in royalty au comp)

Kingfisher Feathers by anonymous (E, 144k, WIP, WangXian, Royalty AU, Emperor LWJ, Concubine WWX, A/B/O, Mpreg, Mutual Pining, Angst with a happy ending) (link in royalty au comp)

13B)

I Will Not Go Gentle into the Quiet Night by TriviasFolly (M, 89k, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, no cultivation au, Vaugely Historical AU?, royal au, War AU, Slow Burn, Attempted Rape, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Murder) mind the tags

🔒 Wilful Blindness ≠ Ignorance by Cy_an_Blue (E, 59k, wangxian, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, LSZ is a Wèi, WWX is LSZ's Parent, Child LSZ, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Prince LWJ, Concubine WWX, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Original Character Death(s), Implied/Referenced Child Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied Mpreg, Past Mpreg, War, End of War, Post-War, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Gore, Prisoner of War, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, One-Sided Attraction, but not really, Falling In Love, SS Being an Asshole, Angst and Tragedy, Period-Typical Sexism, Period Typical Attitudes, Angst with a Happy Ending, Requited Love, Getting Together)

🔒 Three Letters, Six Etiquettes by 2501987 (M, 24k, wangxian, JC/LXC, Royalty, Arranged Marriage, A/B/O, Arranged Marriage, Angst and Humor, Romance, Idiots in Love, Eventual Romance, Soft Wangxian, WWX is a Little Shit, LWJ is Whipped, BAMF JYL, Family Feels, Awkward First Times, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Bad Sex, Wedding Night, Cute Kids, Domestic Fluff)

~*~

14. hello!! not sure if i was able to send this ask already, but do you know any fics were lsz is referenced as the lan heir? thank you! ☺️ /cuddlemehun

A Civil Combpaign Series by Ariaste (T, 19k, JL/LSZ, wangxian, arranged marriage, courting, teenage drama, humor) it's mentioned in the second fic, Besieged

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15. Hello! For ITMF I am looking for canon-divergent fics where Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen help fight through the Sunshot Campaign, and perhaps join Wei Wuxian in the Burial Mounds after. I would love for Wei Wuxian to have had more allies in those years. Thank you for any suggestions! /gloriousclotpole

The Tiger has Destroyed his Cage by updatebug (G, 54k, WangXian, Shapeshifters, Fix-it fic, Animal Pelts, Tiger WWX, Found Family, adopted family, Yungmeng Siblings, Canon appropriate angst and violence, Gratuitous OCs) the tiger fic has XXC&SL get involved in the Sunshot campaign on WWX's behalf. it's canon divergent/ends before the Burial Mounds Settlement Days, but it's also just a really fun fic (and great for "wwx has more allies")

💖 Xiao XingChen’s travelling sect series by The Silverfish (ZephyrAndTheSilverfish) (T, 43k, wangxian, SL/XXC, time travel, children, rogue cultivators, hurt/comfort, murder mystery, world travel) Maybe also "Xiao Xingchen's traveling sect"? that's canon divergent much earlier than the sunshot campaign though

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16. Hello, I'm looking for works, where JC was the initial source of hate rumors targeted at WWX that led to his demise. Could you please help?

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17. Hi, I'm itmf NHS as chief cultivator. Best if before wwx death. Maybe he saw that everything is gradually going shit and decides to abandon his weak persona mask early

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @/mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

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letsgoletsgetit08 · 2 months ago

Text

fix off pt. 1

summary: Mingi turns to every coping mechanism besides a healthy one in the aftermath of Jongho's death, two years later.

warnings: MDNI!!, 18+, su*c*de attempt, implied/referenced su*c*de, major character death, overdose, recreational drug use, religious imagery & symbolism, catholicism, barebacking, strangers to lovers, bittersweet ending, angst, hurt/comfort

pairing: priest!soft dom!Jeong Yunho x hot fucking mess!Song Mingi

author's note: HEY! Read the tags! This fic has some very heavy content! Please DO NOT READ this if mentions/discussion of suicide/attemps or character deat (RIP Jongho, so glad you're alive IRL, king) are in any way triggering to you! Also, know that myself and Ateez would be very sad if any Atiny or anyone else took their own life. Don't do it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ! !! !!! That said, this work is based on/influenced by/referencing - sometimes lightly, sometimes very directly because Phoebe Waller-Bridge is more of a genius than me - the show Fleabag. This show is personally very important to me, it both healed me in some ways and also hurt me very deeply. If you have seen the show, you know how this ends. Again, read the tags. Phoebe, if you happen to read this for whatever reason, I just hope you're flattered because of imitation and all that.

OKAY! Disclaimers disclaimed, please let me know if I missed anything. And with that, please enjoy. This one is kind of my baby. I hesitated to even post it here because I'm a little scared of how it will be received but you never know until you try, right? Comments, likes, & re-blogs are always welcome, but please be civil.

word count: 23,480

ao3 link: fix off

fix off

It's hard not to spiral.

Chest constricting, breath becoming shallow.

Mingi tossed the bar rag onto the counter and dismissed himself to the bathroom.

Cold water splashed on his face.

Not cold enough. Need some ice.

He thought he had seen Jongho. Which was impossible.

His friend had died nearly two years ago now.

He died two years ago.

Mingi composed himself enough to go back and sling espresso martinis to faceless patrons. Turning on his disarming charm enough to make decent tips.

Coping.

Back home, laying in bed, Mingi got off while watching the news. Contemplated texting his ex.

He was a little offended that she hadn't come back yet.

She always came back.

It was one of the only constants in his life, repeating the cycle of breaking up with Yuji when she became too overbearing, trying to be too serious.

“It feels like you only want to be with me for the sex.” She had accused him of it a thousand times if she had done it once.

“My friends really like you, too.” Mingi half-heartedly defended himself. She'll hate to hear that.

“Do you like me, Mingi? Because I'm trying. I want to take care of you.”

“I'm not a child.” Mingi pouted.

“You're the only person who believes that.” Yuji turned to go, taking his lack of response to her question for what it was, “I'm not coming back, Mingi. Not again.”

She'll be back.

She wasn't.

The next time he'd seen her, six months later, she had actually looked happy, something he honestly couldn't say during the times they had been together. Ring on her finger, hand around the bicep of a man Mingi vaguely recognized.

Mingi saw her. Caught her eye.

She's going to walk over.

She walked over and introduced her fiancé, “This is jfodwjjfow.”

He wouldn't remember the man’s name anyway, why bother to hear it when it was said the first time.

“So good to meet you, Jeff.” Definitely not his name. “Wish I could stay but I really have to be going.”

He barely noticed the confused expression on her face as he dashed away.

Two Years Ago

"You know that guy who comes in on Tuesday nights and sits at the end of the bar?” Jongho asked, looking up at Mingi with a devious grin.

"Tall guy who drinks red wine and looks like he wants to eat you?” Mingi teased him.

"Shut up, no way! He's probably looking at you. Everyone looks at you.” Jongho meant it as a compliment.

"Well they should look at you because I will just chew them up and spit them out.”

"Why else would God give you such big teeth?” Jongho skirted out of the way before Mingi could smack his ass with the bar towel.

"Do I have big teeth?!” Mingi was hurt.

"No!” Jongho stayed a few feet away, out of the line of fire, “No! I'm sorry, your teeth are fine!”

"I'm hideous!” Mingi whined.

“Hush, Mingi. You're perfect.” Jongho sighed, “Nevermind about that guy, anyway. I have my hands full with you already.”

“You love it.” Mingi shot him an innocent smile.

“Of course I do.” Jongho poked his cheek, “Who else will?”

A Tuesday. Probably.

“Mingi, promise me you won't be late tonight.” Seonghwa’s voice was stern, pleading over the phone.

Mingi had taken the call while riding Soobin's dick. Or maybe it was Seungmin. He couldn't remember. He'd just been calling him “baby” since he came over.

He was Hongjoong’s accountant.

“I won't.” He would. “Promise.” He shouldn't.

It was Seonghwa’s debut as Marius Pontmercy in an off-broadway production of Les Misérables. A big deal. He would finally be catching his big break.

“Okay, good because I really want everyone there.” Mingi faltered at the implication of the word. Like they were complete without Jongho. “It's very important to me. And I don't want to be embarrassed by you walking in late, I'm not even sure they will let you-”

“Yes, I know, Hwa.” He panted, Baby's hips bucking underneath him, “I'll be there.”

He’s noisy. Loves nipples.

“What are you doing? You sound out of breath?” Seonghwa’s voice was verging towards hysterical.

“Just out for a run!” Baby let out a moan that Mingi knew carried through the phone.

“Ew, Mingi! That is disgusting-”

“Fuck, yes, Soobin!” Mingi couldn't help but cry out, ending the call as the man nailed his prostate.

Soobin filled the condom inside him, Mingi followed quickly behind, collapsing to his chest.

“It's Seungmin, asshole.” The man pushed Mingi off of him and cleaned himself up, gathered his things to leave, shirt on inside out.

He’s probably going to realize he’s actually straight now.

Mingi got off to the memory of the scene again, later, in the shower.

He was only twenty minutes late to Seonghwa's debut that night. Tears streaming down his face at the performance. His friend was beautiful. The musical was one of his favorites.

I’m a total sap.

He wished Jongho were there to see it.

Seonghwa let himself be hugged backstage after the show, a rare treat, even letting Mingi linger for a beat before pushing him off, accepting the flowers he held out to him.

My bouquet looks pathetic next to the others. He’ll hate it.

“Didn't want it to go to your head too much.” Mingi quipped, joking about his bouquet.

“Thankfully, no one else had your same mindset.” Seonghwa was probably joking but his words stung. He studied Mingi’s face, not seeming to know how to help in the moment, instead, turning his attention to the rest of their friends, Hongjoong sidling up to his side as Mingi stepped away. “Let’s get everyone in for a picture.”

Everyone.

The word was repeated all night, at dinner afterwards, at the bar after that. Ringing in Mingi’s ears.

Mingi coped in one of the only ways he knew how.

Drink after drink, not knowing what was what, just that it had alcohol.

Everyone will be mad at me by the end of the night.

He had gotten too loud and apparently said something to upset Seonghwa. Not hard to do. Hongjoong scolded him, staying composed as he asked him to leave.

Yeosang sweet Yeosang ended up under his arm, guiding him to the curb outside of the bar, waiting on the Uber.

“What's wrong with me, Sangie?” Mingi slurred, ignoring how Yeosang’s body tensed when his head fell to the other's shoulder.

He's going to say nothing is wrong with me. They always do.

“Nothing is wrong with you, Mingi.” His voice was sweet, deep, soothing.

“Everyone hates me.” Mingi whined.

“No one hates you, Ming.” Yeosang wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “You just feel your feelings out loud. And you have a lot of them. Wooyoung is similar, but he has a San to regulate him.”

“I don't have anyone.” Mingi sobbed.

“You do, Mingi. You just push us away. And I get it. No one can take Jongho's place. He was that for you, wasn't he?” Yeosang asked gently.

Mingi didn't answer but sat up, looking at Yeosang.

He is so pretty.

Mingi leaned in for a kiss.

Yeosang stopped him with a hand, “No, baby. You're drunk. You don't actually want to do this.”

What the hell did Yeosang know?

He was right. Of course.

“Sorry.” Mingi mumbled.

The Uber pulled up and Yeosang helped him inside, instructing him to drink some water when he got home.

He should have asked for Yeosang to help him. He would have done it.

I should ask.

He should ask.

But he always pushed them away.

Mingi hated riding in cars. He gripped the seat for dear life the entire drive.

There was no one to make sure he didn't drown in a pool of his own vomit. The thought hit him somewhere on the ride home.

He wouldn't drown in a pool of his own vomit.

He hadn't yet.

I need a grilled cheese and a cigarette.

Two Years Ago

The Tuesday man was leaning across the bar as far as it would allow, flirting with Jongho. Mingi felt pride swell in his chest. They were cute. He was sweet, making Jongho blush, calling him pretty.

Bastard.

He hated sharing Jonho. Yes, the seven of them were friends, but he and Jongho were close outside of that. If he were asked to trade the six others for Jongho, he would. Easy. No one got him like Jongho did. Mingi felt a little like he had raised the man, with him being a little over a year younger than himself. He knew it had to be hard being the youngest in a friend group. He wanted to make sure Jongho had someone. They were roommates in college. It stuck. Had worked at the same bar together ever since.

In a lot of ways, though, Jongho had taken care of Mingi, too. Through heartbreaks and the general ups and downs of life.

He loved him more than anything.

Naturally, he was a little possessive of his friend. But he also wanted him to be happy.

He pushed down the acidic, curdling sensation in his chest. Let him be happy.

Mingi would be there for him when he inevitably let him down.

A Thursday? Maybe??

Wooyoung had talked him into hot yoga.

“It will be good for you, I promise!” Wooyoung sing-songed as they walked into the studio.

San probably loves the fact that he’s into yoga.

The studio was sweltering, they weren’t misadvertising, that’s for sure.

“I feel like I’m going to die.” Mingi complained.

“Shut up and take your shoes off.” Wooyoung instructed.

Not the first time he’s said that line.

“Buy me dinner first.”

“You need therapy.” Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

Tried that, didn’t work.

His therapist said that he was projecting his grief for Jongho onto what really was daddy issues. Or something like that. He really hadn’t paid too close attention. He had fucked his therapist after a few sessions though.

After sweating buckets and nearly pulling a muscle to keep from slipping and busting his face open, he thanked Wooyoung for inviting him and made him promise to never do it again.

On the way out of the studio, a bus was unloading.

Tuesday guy.

Mingi locked eyes with him as he hopped off the bus. Time stood still.

The man nodded and Mingi darted in the other direction, Wooyoung chasing after him.

He finally caught up, “Hey, what the fuck!”

“Sorry!” Mingi clawed his fingernails into his palms, “Forgot I liked the smoothie place on 7th better than the one on 9th.”

A lie.

“Well damn, you could have just said something!” Wooyoung scolded him, mostly playfully but still seeming perturbed at Mingi’s odd behavior.

Two Years Ago

Jongho was off that night. Tuesday guy sat in his same spot.

Mingi tested him.

Tuesday failed.

Took Mingi to his apartment after work.

Fucked Mingi senseless into his mattress.

Fucking Tuesday.

He never learned his real name.

But he would never have called him by it anyway.

Mingi’s dad had cheated on his mom.

Any given day of the week, honestly, does it really matter?

The bar was dead that night and Mingi didn’t bother to fight to close with his new coworker. Let himself be cut early so that he could go home.

He texted the group chat on his walk home.

Got cut early. Anyone wanna meet up?

He waited for replies. None came in. No one had even read the message.

Fine then.

He walked aimlessly around the city, finally landing on a park bench, staring out over the lake. He didn’t know what to do with himself.

The sun was setting and he watched it paint the sky pastel.

He dialed Jongho’s number.

Hey, it’s Jongho! Leave a message. Or just text me like a normal person.

Again.

Hey, it’s Jongho! Leave a message. Or just text me like a normal person.

Interrupted.

“Anyone sitting here?” A feminine voice, light German accent. He looked up.

She had stick-straight dyed red hair to her shoulders, microbangs, piercings, and was more tattoo than skin.

“No, sorry. Just um.” He looked down at the phone in his hands, “On the phone.”

“Why are you apologizing?” She raised a sharp eyebrow at him. He spotted a tongue ring when her mouth was open.

“I don’t know. Sorry.” He blinked at her. Clocking that he had just done it again.

She studied him, “Hm. You’re sweet, aren’t you?”

He shrugged.

“Pretty lips. I like you. If I take you to my place, you can’t murder me, okay?”

She looks more like she would be the one to murder me.

“Okay.” He agreed.

Looks like I have plans tonight after all.

“Oh, you’re going to be fun.” She smiled, standing up and offering her hand to help him up. He followed her like a lost puppy to her apartment.

The Germans are known for their open-mindedness in the bedroom. I should have remembered that.

He was tied to her bed from all four corners, wrists and ankles secured. Cock leaking pathetically onto his stomach. She walked around the bed, strutting in her elaborate black lace lingerie, pulled the blindfold down over his eyes.

They had discussed it briefly on their way over. Limits, safe word (tiramisu), and the light system.

Green light. Green light. Green light.

He felt the bed shift as she crawled between his legs, fingers dancing over his skin as she teased him everywhere except where he wanted it.

“So desperate already for me, aren’t you, Mingki?” Her accent added an extra percussive affect to his name.

“Yes, goddess.” He breathed.

With no warning, she began licking his cock from base to tip, guiding it into her mouth without even touching it with her hands. The tip of it hitting the back of her throat immediately.

I'm way too well hung for someone to be able to do that so easily.

She worked him expertly, slow at first, then picking up her pace until she estimated he was close to his peak, a faint pop as she pulled off of his dick. He squirmed, searching for any sort of touch, wanting to cum so badly. He heard her chuckle, “Oh, no, mein liebchen, it won't be that easy.”

He whined and pouted, cut short as she positioned herself above him, rolling a condom on and applying lube before lining herself up and taking him in one go.

I'm way too well hung for someone to be able to do THAT so easily.

She sat still, cockwarming him until he couldn't take it, sweat breaking out on his forehead, hips bucking, which earned him nothing besides sitting up so that only his tip was inside of her. He couldn't reach, no matter how hard he tried, to enter her any further. Eventually, she lowered herself ever so slightly, once he stilled his movements, proving he could be patient. She bounced up and down, tiny movements, only taking the first few inches of his length. Normally, he would be slamming his hips at breakneck speed by this point but he felt more turned on than ever before as he was brought to the edge again, only for her to pull off at the last second.

She was straddling his face seconds later, “Me first, then we'll revisit you. If you can manage to get me off.”

“Yes, godd-hmmmpph” she cut him off by placing her wet cunt on his face. The lube was strawberry flavored and he ate devotedly, like it was the last supper.

I'm not even religious!

He focused hard, listening for little moans and the involuntary twitch of her hips to guide him in knowing what she liked. It was so much harder to gauge with a blindfold on, but just as his jaw was aching so bad he thought he might have to give up, cock throbbing and leaking precum into the condom, she finally came, crying out at her release.

“What a good pet.” She panted, moving back down to his cock again, taking him in one go and grinding her hips evilly, swiveling them but not letting him fuck into her still. “You can't cum until I come on your pretty cock, understood?”

“Yes, goddess, please let me make you come.” He begged, surprising himself.

She fell forward bracing her hands on his chest as she fucked herself on his dick. He almost lost it as he finally felt her clench around him, moaning at her second release, then surprising him by removing the blindfold.

“Eyes on mine and beg me for it.” She demanded.

“Please let me cum, goddess, please I'll do anything, please, please, goddess, I-” she stroked him with her pussy, as he begged until she was satisfied, tears streaming down his face.

“Okay, since you asked so nicely.” She stilled her hips, “Go ahead and use me, you filthy boy. So desperate.”

He cried out as he tried to get a better range of motion to fuck her. She didn't help at all, but he was already on a razor wire, and soon he was cumming hard. She dismounted as soon as she felt his orgasm start, ruining it. He whimpered pathetically, not feeling satisfied, not enough cum leaving his body.

She chuckled, “What's wrong, my little pet? You wanted to cum. I let you cum.”

He couldn’t answer, genuinely crying now.

“Color, Mingi?” She asked, seeming concerned.

“Green!” He sobbed.

“Good.” And she removed the condom, his dick still hard. She stroked up the underside with one steady finger until his hips were bucking pathetically again, then she gripped him genuinely, working him to a real release this time. The sound that escaped his chest was something he was sure had never left his body before, thick ribbons of cum hitting his stomach and chest, covering her hand.

“Thank you! Fuck, thank you.” He cried as she worked him through it.

She made sure he got proper aftercare when they were done. He stood in her doorway, staring at his shoes, voice barely above a whisper, “Can I… um. See you again?”

She smiled sympathetically, “No, so sorry, darling. I only ever do this once with someone.” She tapped his cheek, “Best of luck out there. I really did have a good time.”

“Okay.” He sighed, “Thank you again.” And he turned to leave, feeling emptier than ever as he walked home.

Two Years Ago

Jongho was a mess when he got to work that day, dark circles under his eyes. Mingi clocked it immediately, dragging him to the walk-in cooler to talk.

“What's wrong?” He asked, trying not to panic, certain he was found out.

Jongho never cried. It ripped Mingi’s heart in half. “He fucking-” Jongho choked on a sob, “I don’t know what I did wrong! I-” He buried his face into Mingi’s chest, “He told me he cheated on me and then-” A huge sniffle, struggling to catch his breath, “He said he couldn’t live with the guilt and he broke up with me! I don’t know what’s wrong with me-” Another wave of sobs racked his body.

“Shh, come on. You can’t work like this. Let’s get you home.” Mingi pulled him to his side, guilt spilling down his spine like ice water.

Back at their apartment, Mingi spent all night taking care of Jongho, wrapping him in a blanket on the couch and letting him talk things through. Three bottles of wine between the two of them. He had no clue why Tuesday hadn’t told Jongho the full truth. He was too scared to do it himself. Instead, he let the gravity of his sin guide his actions, coddling his friend to try to make up for it.

They ended the night curled up in Mingi’s bed together, Jongho still crying softly as he drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, the bed beside Mingi was cold.

He had thirty missed calls on his phone. None of them were from Jongho.

He panicked, calling the last person who had called him back.

“Mingi, thank god.” San’s voice was thick, clearly he had been crying.

“What happened?” Mingi’s voice was strained, anxiety eating him alive.

“Mingi… It’s Jongho.” San took a shuddering breath, “He’s- he’s gone.”

“What do you mean, ‘gone’? There’s no way. He was upset but I’m sure he just turned his phone off and he’ll be back here any time with a pack of cig-” Mingi refused to believe what he had just been told.

“No, Mingi.” San cut him off, “They found him. His car, it was-”

“No! You’re wrong!” Mingi was in denial, verging on hysterics, “They’re wrong, they need to check again! He’ll be back any minute!”

“Mingi…” San sobbed. He heard him mutter something about not being able to do this as the phone was passed to someone else.

“Mingi. I need you to take some deep breaths and calm down.” Hongjoong’s voice was surprisingly gentle over the phone, but commanding enough to make Mingi stop sputtering nonsense that he knew, deep down, was all untrue.

“I’m sorry.” Mingi felt tears begin to streak down his face, “I’m sorry. I’m listening.”

“Hwa is ordering you an Uber. We should all be together right now. You need to get dressed and be downstairs in ten minutes, okay?” Hongjoong’s voice only wavered slightly.

“Okay.” Mingi hung up the phone.

Once he was at Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s apartment with the others, they filled him in on everything they knew, which truthfully, was very little.

Jongho indeed had alcohol in his system, according to the coroner, but having known him, he had a pretty high tolerance. It wasn’t certain he had been too drunk to drive. He had left no note, but the way the crash had happened, it almost looked intentional.

There was no way of knowing now, of course.

Mingi filled them in on why Jongho had been upset. Not the full story. He didn’t think he could ever admit that to anyone. Even with the added context, the friends all silently agreed that it had been an accident. The alternative was far too painful.

The pit in Mingi’s stomach begged to differ. The doubt that lingered would never leave him. Not even for a moment.

Seonghwa’s Bachelor Party

Mingi felt especially proud of himself, walking up to Seonghwa’s apartment - his fiance would be staying at a hotel that night - knowing what surprise he had planned for the night.

He’s going to do backflips.

The stripper he had hired was around Hongjoong’s height, pretty dark brown hair, wide, soulful eyes. Mingi had picked him out himself, wanting the surprise to be absolutely perfect.

When he stepped inside the apartment, his stomach dropped.

I really shouldn’t have muted the group chat.

He was under dressed in slacks and a sweater. Everyone else was in suits. More than just their close friend group was there, too. A memory niggled at the back of his mind, vaguely remembering reading a text saying Seonghwa’s more conservative cousins would be in town from Korea. They were staying for a few months before the wedding, through the holidays, since the wedding was on New Years Eve, treating the trip like a long vacation.

Mingi tried to turn around to back out, wanting to call the booking agency immediately to cancel the stripper, but Wooyoung spotted him, looking relieved to have an excuse to leave the conversation he was having with a particularly dull looking family member, making his way to Mingi in just a few strides, pulling him into the living room.

“Thank fuck!” Wooyoung whispered into his ear, “That guy was talking about the stock markets and I thought I was going to die.”

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Mingi couldn’t help but laugh at the situation.

“He got got, too!” Wooyoung jutted his chin out, gesturing towards the kitchen, where San was sequestered by three cousins, eyes pleading as he met Wooyoung’s gaze.

Mingi cackled as he saw San mouth “Help!”

A punch on his arm from Wooyoung startled him, “Why are you underdressed?”

“I muted the group chat! You guys talk so much.”

“Well some of it is important, dumbass!” Wooyoung scolded him, “You better not be planning anything stupid tonight.”

“What!” Mingi tried to look surprised, “I would never! I’m just here for Seonghwa.”

“Yes?” Seonghwa had heard his name and was headed towards them, “Mingi, why are you underdressed?”

“I’m sorry! I can’t read, you know that.” Mingi whined, trying to sound innocent.

“Just, please, please don’t do anything stupid tonight. It’s already tense with my family here, I had to bribe them to even come to the wedding by promising we would get married by a Catholic priest. Neither of us wanted that, but no offense, I didn’t want my wedding to just have you guys and all of Hongjoong’s family.”

“We’ll be good, Hwa. Promise.” Wooyoung offered.

“It’s not you I’m worried about. I need the princess to survive the night without making it all about himself.” Seonghwa snipped, then his face fell, looking a little remorseful, “Sorry, that was harsh, I-”

“No, no.” Mingi pretended it hadn’t hurt him to hear, “You’re right. I promise I’ll be good, tonight is all about you and making your weird, boring cousins happy.”

As it turned out, keeping his weird, boring cousins happy was a tall order. They didn’t want to play drinking games - they barely wanted to drink, they didn’t understand Mingi’s sense of humor, and when they weren’t talking his ear off, they seemed to be treating him practically as wait staff, asking for more of the snacks from the kitchen, or another beer, or what his beliefs on the afterlife were. The latter of which he dodged, making a lame excuse of needing to pee.

Mingi had snuck off to the bathroom attached to the primary bedroom, searching through Hongjoong’s side of the cabinets, hoping that the man still had a bit of a fun side. Exclaiming in excitement when he found a little bag of weed gummies buried carelessly under other over-the-counter meds and random, clearly forgotten about toiletries.

He figured they were probably old, so he popped two in his mouth before even reading what the label said. 25mg/piece.

Fuck. Well. Too late now.

He spotted an old bottle of Xanax, giving it a shake to see it was almost completely full. He pocketed it as well.

You never know.

When he emerged, he was rudely reminded of what he had been so worried about when he had arrived.

Yeosang was answering the door, letting a man dressed in a black, sparkly, see-through shirt, red, glittery, heart-shaped pasties covering his nipples clearly visible underneath, and loose black pants, the outline of his bulge making itself known as well. Yeosang, innocent and clueless as ever, let the man inside before Mingi could get over there to stop him.

The weed began to hit Mingi and he couldn’t make his feet move as the man turned on the bluetooth speaker in his hand and a loud, harsh techno beat took over the room, every single voice going quiet to stare.

“Who’s the beautiful blushing groom?” The man surveyed the room noisily.

Seonghwa’s cousins were stunned silent, but Yeosang still hadn’t caught on, pointing to Seonghwa, “That’s him!”

The Hongjoong look-alike stripper ripped his shirt off as he approached Seonghwa, and only then did Mingi’s brain catch up to his feet, jogging over to stop the man.

“I’m so sorry!” Mingi tried to cut him off, “There’s been a mistake, I messed up-” He let out a giggle, his weed-fuzzed brain finding the situation hilarious despite himself.

“Is this your idea of a joke, Mingi?” Seonghwa looked mad, hurt, and very disappointed.

The stripper was not tuned in to the conversation and had started trying to dance for Seonghwa.

“No! I’m sorry! It’s not a joke, I didn’t read the group text and I was going to cancel-” Mingi touched the stripper’s shoulder, trying to pull him off, “Hey, can you please stop that, you need to go, I’ll pay-”

“HEY!” The stripper yelled, “No touching! That’s literally the first rule you agreed to when you booked me!”

“Mingi, get the fuck out of here.” Seonghwa scolded him.

“Hwa, I’m so sorry! I’m going, I promise-” Mingi pleaded, hands coming up to try to show his innocence, but hit the stripper’s ass on their way up.

“What the FUCK did I just say?!” The stripper wheeled on him, punching him straight in the right eye socket.

San was there in an instant, putting the stripper in a hold and froggy walking him out the door, Mingi following dejectedly behind, trying to keep the tears from spilling out as the cold air hit his face again.

“San, please, I’m sorry, he has to know it was an honest mistake.”

“Honestly, Mingi. Not right now. Just.” He huffed a long breath out of his nose, “Just save it. Okay? It’s not me you need to apologize to.”

He turned his back on Mingi, heading back inside the house.

The stripper glared up at him from his spot on the curb, holding his hand out for payment.

“Are you insane? No one carries cash.” Mingi spat at him.

“Then Venmo me, dickhead.” Not-Hongjoong instructed him.

“No! Fuck off. You ruined my night.” Mingi turned around, trying to start walking home, but was stopped when the stripper jumped on him from behind, struggling to put him in a headlock due to their height difference. It was enough to get Mingi to turn around, though, which earned him a knee to his crotch and a sickening crack of his jaw, followed by his left eye. Mingi doubled over and took off running the best he could given his current state, lip bleeding onto his sweater, ignoring the shouts from the angry stripper behind him, hating how high he was as he staggered home in the cold, the world around him not feeling real.

Back at his apartment, he drew himself a bath, placing the bottle of Xanax and his phone on the edge of the bathtub before climbing in.

His head still felt wrong from the weed. Off-kilter. Anxious. Like melting cotton candy.

He lined up the pills on the lip of the bathtub, counted them.

He read the label that time.

He took three.

Dialed Jongho’s number from memory on his phone.

Hey, it’s Jongho! Leave a message. Or just text me like a normal person.

Again.

Hey, it’s Jongho! Leave a message. Or just text me like a normal person.

His brain went pleasantly fuzzy.

Head falling to the back of the tub a little clumsily.

He took three more.

Hey, it’s Jongho! Leave a message. Or just text me like a normal person.

He took three more.

Hey, it’s Jongho! Leave a message. Or just text me like a normal person.

The words started to lose all meaning as his vision blurred and he sank further into the water.

His fingers dialed the only other number he had memorized.

“Mingi?” Hongjoong’s voice was sleepy, clearly worried.

“Everyone hates me.” Mingi sighed, slipping down further into the tub, water feeling like molasses on his skin. Everything felt warm. Sticky. Cottony.

“Why aren’t you out with Seonghwa for his party, what’s wrong?” Hongjoong asked him, voice urgent.

“I think I fucked up, Joongie.” Mingi’s voice was slow, distant, tinny, metallic and childish sounding in his own ears, tongue too thick for his mouth.

“Mingi, baby, tell me what you did.” He heard Hongjoong get up from bed, “Where are you?”

“‘M home. I love you guys.” Mingi sighed, his vision going spotty.

“No, Mingi, stay with me!” Hongjoong pleaded.

But Mingi’s phone fell into the bathtub with a subdued splash as his vision went dark.

H e y , i t ’ s J o n g h o ! L e a v e a m e s s a g e . O r j u s t t e x t m e l i k e a n o r m a l p e r s o n .

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Mingi blinked his eyes open slowly, head splitting as his pupils adjusted to the bright lights.

The unmistakable smell of disinfected hospital hit his nose. He was equal parts relieved that he was alive and annoyed that he was so incompetent he couldn’t even kill himself properly.

His muscles screamed as he turned to the left, finding an open-mouthed, haggard looking Hongjoong asleep on the rigid hospital chair next to him.

Tears streamed down his face silently as he felt himself drift back asleep.

“I swear, he didn't seem that bad when he left!” Wooyoung's voice was hushed, urgent as he defended himself.

Mingi didn't open his eyes yet, not wanting to give himself away, now very intrigued in the conversation.

“I guess the stripper must have beat him up when I kicked him out. I should have driven him home.” San's voice quivered at the end of the sentence.

“Yes, someone should have stayed with him.” Hongjoong sounded incredibly exhausted and a little mad.

“It's easy to see now, but I mean was he acting that abnormal leading up? I don't understand what set him off.” Yeosang sounded genuinely worried.

“You guys realize the anniversary of Jongho’s funeral was the day before yesterday, right?” Hongjoong asked reproachfully.

The silence was deafening.

“I knew it was soon…” San trailed off, clearly ashamed.

“I know we were all friends with him. And I'm not saying whatever friendships all of us had with Jongho weren't important or as meaningful or anything like that. I would never minimize that.” Hongjoong took a deep breath, “But it was different for Mingi. I think we all know that, deep down. And I don't think any of us have acknowledged it. We've been pretty hard on him.”

“Who exactly is ‘we’?” Wooyoung asked, his tone biting, “From my point of view, we've been pretty normal with him. The only person he's fought with is your fiancé.”

There was a pregnant pause before Hongjoong spoke again, “I- I know. Seonghwa knows, too. He doesn't mean to be hard on him… I promise he's trying. You guys have no clue how hard he's beating himself up over this. He hasn't eaten since he heard. I'm really worried.”

“He has to know Mingi won't blame him for anything-” Yeosang started.

“He needs to grow the fuck up and get here and be supportive.” Wooyoung huffed, his tone erring on petulant.

“Baby…” San tried to calm him down.

“Sorry.” Wooyoung mumbled.

“He'll come by when he's ready.” Hongjoong said simply.

“Well try to give me warning because I really don't want to see him right now.” Wooyoung spat.

Mingi tried to stir to bring attention to the fact that he was awake, not wanting the conversation they were having to turn into a fight.

“Wooyoung-” Hongjoong said at the same time San tried to soothe him, “Jagi-”

“Guys.” Yeosang made eye contact with Mingi as he sat up in bed.

“Mingi!” Wooyoung nearly tripped over his feet to get to his bedside, San and Yeosang following behind, Hongjoong giving him a little more space.

“Youngie.” Mingi croaked, his throat incredibly parched, mouth tasting too much like mouth for his comfort.

“We're so sorry, honey.” San’s face contorted, holding back tears.

“We didn't know how bad it was.” Yeosang offered.

Hongjoong poured him a cup of water, which he took gladly, taking a sip before speaking again, “I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking stupid.” He felt tears build in his eyes again, looking over to Hongjoong, “I'm sorry you had to find me like that.”

“Mingi, no. I'm just glad I found you.” Hongjoong laid a hand on his shoulder, never being one to be very comfortable with physical affection.

“I'm so sorry.” It seemed to be the only phrase Mingi could remember how to say.

Luckily for him, the nurse came in then to check on him, taking his vitals and informing him that he had been accepted to an inpatient behavioral health hospital and that transport was being set up as they spoke.

“You're sending me to the psych ward?” His stomach dropped.

“Yes sir, we're required by law to have you admitted after a suicide attempted. You're considered very high risk right now.” She spoke as if she had delivered the same line a thousand times already that day.

“I just failed to commit suicide and I feel like dog shit!” The effort from raising his voice made him dizzy, “There’s no amount of money you could pay me to convince me to try that shit again right now.”

His friends didn't seem to know what to say

“You will just have to take that up with your psychiatrist at the hospital. I'm sorry. If you don't go willingly, the doctor will have to put you on a 72 hour hold.”

Mingi closed his eyes, seething, “Fucking… fine.”

“Okay, good. I'll let the doctor know.” She walked out of the room and no one moved until she was out of ear shot.

Wooyoung cocked an eyebrow at him, “You're really gonna-”

“Hell no. You guys have to help me get out of here. I'll stay with one of you, I promise, I just can't… please. Don't make me.” Mingi all but begged, feeling small and vulnerable like a child.

Everyone turned to Hongjoong, the de-facto leader, often thought of by his friends as the dad of the group.

He looked between the men before finding Mingi’s eyes, sighing when he saw how desperate his friend looked, “San, trade clothes with him and go distract the nurse.” He never stopped looking at Mingi while he spoke, “We're getting him the hell out of here.”

Five minutes later, Hongjoong, Yeosang, and Wooyoung surrounded Mingi from four sides, trying to obscure him from the view of anyone who might try to stop them, though it was essentially futile, considering how Mingi towered over them, giggling to themselves as they heard the nurses gasp and squeal. San had evidently just taken off his paper scrubs shirt as a distraction. They made it into the elevator and all the way downstairs undetected, within only a few hundred feet of the front door when they heard San’s out of breath voice from the stairwell yelling, “Run!”

They obeyed, taking off towards the parking lot, hopping into San's 4-Runner as he unlocked it to signal its location, though he himself was still a hundred or so yards behind, bare feet slapping on the pavement (Mingi had squeezed his feet into San's shoes) as the guards slowed their pace behind him, clearly accepting their defeat, out-paced easily by the athletic man.

Mingi felt like death as he wheezed, exhausted from the effort in the middle back seat of San's car, wedged securely between Hongjoong and Yeosang, San hopping into the driver's seat. He felt like death, yes, but he also felt more alive than he had in a long time, being the first one to crack and start laughing in the car after a moment of unsure silence. Wooyoung followed second, his high pitched wild laughter making everyone else submit to a giggle fit as well. San rolled down the windows and stuck his head out as he drove out of the parking lot, hair blowing in the chill winter air, yelling, “Nice try, bitches!” as they made their escape.

Two and a Half Years Ago

Mingi and Jongho had managed to sneak away from Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s engagement party, finding themselves in Hongjoong’s den, laying on the floor, rather cross-faded, skin still damp after coming inside from the balmy spring air that had enveloped them on the back porch.

"I can’t believe they’re finally going to get married.” Mingi sighed staring up at the ceiling.

"San and Wooyoung must be thrilled. I bet San is scheming already.” Jongho chuckled.

Mingi scoffed, “I think San has had a ring in his closet for a year at this point.”

"You’re probably right.”

Mingi turned his head to look at his friend, studying his profile, the shape of which he had memorized years ago, “First those two, then Wooyoung and San. You think everyone will expect us to get married next?”

Jongho met his gaze, “Mingi, no offense, but I will only marry you at fifty if we’re both still single.”

"Promise?” Mingi was mostly joking.

Jongho rolled his eyes, “Someday, someone will take care of us like we do each other.” He turned his head back away, “But just in case… yes. Promise.”

"Hell yeah.” Mingi pumped his arm in victory.

"You left Yeosang out of all of that, by the way. What’s he going to do?”

"I assumed he would move in with Youngie and San at some point.” Mingi deadpanned.

Jongho chuckled, “I’m honestly surprised they haven’t all moved in together yet.”

Footsteps had them craning their head to the back of the room.

Seonghwa’s arms were folded, “Did you guys plan on being antisocial all night?”

Mingi and Jongho shrugged, sitting up, Jongho helping Mingi to his feet.

Seonghwa sighed dramatically, “Please come back and join us. Act normal for once.”

“Yes, mom!” Jongho mocked.

They had to swallow their giggles as Seonghwa marched them back to the kitchen and living room, where everyone else was gathered.

The Present, October 15th

Mingi woke up, slightly disoriented, in Wooyoung and San’s guest bedroom, far too early in the morning. His face was throbbing, bruises and swelling finally going down, but still aching and tender nonetheless. He looked on the bedside table for painkillers before remembering that he hadn’t been left with any from the hospital, considering how he had chosen to depart. That, and he assumed, a cold pit in his stomach, Wooyoung wouldn’t allow him access to any meds without supervision. Really, Mingi felt zero desire to ever try to hurt himself again, but he understood that his friends were just doing their due diligence to protect him.

Embarrassment and shame coursed over him.

I'm a fucking mess.

He looked for his phone, finally finding it plugged in on the desk on the opposite side of the room.

He scrolled through and replied to messages from Hongjoong and Yeosang, telling him he was feeling fine and thanking them again for their help.

He knew it was too early for Wooyoung to get up, so he scrolled absentmindedly through his phone for a while before the pain from the wounds on his face, his split lip and bruised jaw and eye sockets, were too much to continue ignoring. He looked around in the room for any of his belongings, not finding anything except what he had worn of San’s home from the hospital.

The dresser in the corner of the room stared at him and he walked over to take a peak. Some of Wooyoung and San’s off-season clothes were in there, shorts and swim trunks mostly. But in one drawer alone, was one of Jongho’s old hoodies. Faded dark green and perfectly worn. Mingi remembered it because he had borrowed it on more than one occasion after work, on their walk home, always having been one to forget a jacket. Jongho acted like he was put out to lend it to him, but Mingi knew as well as he had, he didn’t mind a bit. Now that he thought about it, it was totally possible that Jongho had always worn it just for his sake. The man ran very hot, constantly complaining about it, even in winter.

Mingi brought the sweater up to his face, hoping it would still smell faintly of him, but knowing deep down it wouldn’t. He slipped it on, zipping it up, putting the hood on, and heading into the kitchen to try to find some coffee. After a few minutes of searching (much to his guilt, realizing that they had locked up their knives), Mingi found the necessary supplies to make coffee, rustling through the pantry for something to eat as it brewed.

“You’re up early.” Wooyoung’s raspy morning voice startled him.

“Ah!” Mingi whipped around, “Sorry, yeah. My face fucking hurts.”

“I’ll get you something.” Wooyoung gave a small smile, “Sorry, you understand why I couldn’t just leave you some-”

“Nah, I know.” Mingi waved him off, “I would do the same thing. Don’t worry.”

Wooyoung nodded, “Okay, good. I’m glad. I’ll go grab it.”

Mingi poured two cups of coffee as Wooyoung returned, handing him a steaming mug in exchange for two ibuprofen tablets.

“Thanks, man.” Mingi tossed them back, swallowing them dry, knowing the coffee was still too hot to sip on, “And thanks for letting me stay. I don’t want to put you guys out-”

Wooyoung placed his mug down on the kitchen island, his typically sharp, vulpine features turning soft, crossing over to hug Mingi out of the blue, “No way, Mingi. I’m just so glad you’re okay.” He pulled back, “I’m so mad at you, too. But it’s far outweighed by how glad I am that you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here, too.” Mingi confessed.

“Good.” Wooyoung blinked back tears, swallowing, “I couldn’t do another funeral, Mingi.”

“I know.” Mingi’s face flushed red, embarrassed at the idea of causing his friends so much grief, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“No more apologizing.” Wooyoung commanded, “You should keep it, by the way.” He nodded at the hoodie Mingi had donned.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to take-”

“Mingi, I’m sure. He would have wanted you to have it. It just makes me fucking sad every time I see it. I want to remember him in different ways other than just being sad he’s gone. Please take it.” Wooyoung’s eyes were soft as they peered into Mingi’s soul.

Mingi held his gaze for a moment, before finally nodding, “Okay. Yeah. Thank you, Wooyoung.”

“Of course, Ming.” Wooyoung sipped his coffee before turning around to retrieve a skillet from the cabinet under the island, “Let me make you some pancakes.” He stood up and cut Mingi off before he could protest, “No. I’m rephrasing that. I’m making us pancakes. And you’re going to eat them with me.”

“That sounds great, Youngie. Thank you.”

Mingi watched as the younger began to gather ingredients, pouring them into a mixing bowl and starting to combine them. Something kept clawing at the back of his mind though. He didn’t know how to breach the subject so he just asked, “Have you um… heard from Hwa?”

Wooyoung stirred a little aggressively and Mingi nearly laughed at how his jaw clenched at the mention of their friend’s name, “No. Although to be fair, I think Hongjoong made it clear he shouldn’t talk to me right now. I’ll ask San when he wakes up, but I highly doubt it.”

“Ah.” Mingi couldn’t think of anything else to say. He understood why it might be hard for Seonghwa to see him at that very moment, but he wished he knew exactly why his friend didn’t want to see or speak to him. Was it because he was mad at Mingi? For the party, or for trying to kill himself? Or was he mad at himself? Or was it all just too much for him to face? Maybe a combination?

Wooyoung poured the pancake batter into the skillet, “I can hear you overthinking. This is partially why I’m so mad at him. He’s leaving you wondering why he won’t reach out.” He waited for the edges of the pancakes to bubble before flipping them, “You know, for someone who gave you so much grief for making things about yourself, he sure does have a nasty habit of doing it himself, doesn’t he?”

Mingi snorted, laughing at how true the statement was, “I’ve always said he and I were too similar in all the wrong ways.”

Wooyoung couldn’t help but break a grin as he plated the first batch of pancakes, handing it to Mingi, “You might actually be right about that.”

Wooyoung joined him at the table a few minutes later, and it didn’t take long for them to defrost a bit as the man realized he didn’t have to handle Mingi with kid gloves. San joined them a bit later, and there for around an hour, everything felt almost normal. Like they were in college again, scarfing down breakfast at someone’s apartment after a night at the bars. It was so nice that Mingi found himself just staring, watching Wooyoung and San interact together. The two of them had become symbiotic practically immediately, nearly a decade ago at that point. He realized possibly for the first time ever, seeing how so painfully domestic and intimate the two of them were, that he wanted that with someone.

He hadn’t noticed the tear slip down his cheek until San looked at him, concern falling over his delicate feline features, “What’s wrong, Song?”

Mingi laughed at the intentionally bad rhyme, “Nothing. You guys are just cute. I’ve missed you a lot. I’ve missed this.”

Wooyoung kissed San on the cheek, “Hear that? He thinks we’re cute.”

Mingi crinkled his nose in fake disgust, “Okay less so now.”

San chuckled, “We missed you, too, Mingi.”

“We’ll make more of an effort. All of us. Promise. We all need each other and it’s time we stopped isolating.” Wooyoung looked at him a little pointedly.

“I agree.” He nodded, knowing that Wooyoung was also holding him culpable for that last part.

“Good.” Wooyoung smiled, before standing up to start clearing the table. Mingi and San helped, San explaining that he had taken the day off of work to hang out with Mingi.

“Oh, um, I mean. You don’t have t-” Mingi started, feeling once again like a child.

“Yes. We do.” San said, a little stern, but there was no resentment in his voice.

Mingi nodded, “Okay. Thank you. I’ll be glad to have your company.”

San didn’t press or try to make him talk all day, which Mingi was grateful for. They watched movies and played video games for most of the day before Mingi felt like he needed a nap. They ate together like a family once again that night.

The next couple of weeks went on like that until they started to trust him again, leaving him alone during the day while they both returned to work. Mingi wondered absentmindedly if he still had a job. His boss hadn’t even called, but maybe his friends took care of it. He wondered if he even cared. Really, he didn’t know why he had even stayed after Jongho’s accident. He could bartend anywhere. If he really wanted to continue doing so was the real question. After graduating with an anthropology degree and no desire at the time to continue his education, he had just continued to do what had gotten him through college. No reason not to, he was handsome and very good at his job. Made great money. But weirdly enough, nearly dying had him taking the first look at his future that he had bothered to take in years.

Maybe I should go back to school.

He had always liked the idea of teaching at a university level.

Seven Years Ago

"Fuck, yes, baby. Just like that!” Mingi looked up in awe as the girl he’d had eyes on all semester from his Literature class was riding his dick, letting out pretty moans. He didn’t even care if they were fake, she felt incredible.

Click-BANG!

The dorm door flew open, a completely distraught, clearly sleep deprived and hungover (possibly still drunk) Jongho barged in, only blinking as the girl covered herself and yelped, diving beneath Mingi’s navy comforter, laying herself flat to his chest.

“Mingi, I fucked up. I thought my history test was next week, you’ve gotta help me.” Jongho begged him.

“Right now?!” Mingi whined, hips still rocking under the girl whose pussy he was deliciously buried deep inside of.

“Please?” Jongho begged him, “I’ll pay for your laundry for a month, hell, I’ll do your laundry for a month, man, but please help! You’re the only one who knows anything about history.”

Mingi’s pace picked up at the compliment, hearing the girl moan as he plunged deeper, “Okay, fine, I’ll meet you at the library in twenty, and you better get coffee for both of us.”

“Thank you so much, I owe you!” Jongho packed his backpack, moving at a tortoise’s pace in Mingi’s eyes, who was barely restraining himself from moving like a hare.

“Jongho, get the fuck out of here!” He half-yelled, half-panted, grabbing the girl’s hips and beginning to slam her onto his cock, moaning as she moved her hips to match his movement.

Jongho sped up, haphazardly tossing his history textbook into his backpack and darting out of the room, saluting Mingi as he turned his back and closed the door.

"God, yes, Mingi!” The girl cried out while he rubbed her clit with his thumb, head falling back as she clenched around him. He followed moments later, spilling into the condom with a broken sigh.

In his post-nut clarity, Mingi made a surprisingly good history tutor.

Jongho had gotten a nearly perfect score on his test.

October 29th

Mingi was being given a chance to prove himself. He loved Wooyoung and San but he missed his apartment. He missed being alone, oddly enough feeling more alone around the couple than he did when he was by himself.

It didn’t help that he had decided to swear off sex for the time being. He wanted to be sharp. Clear headed.

He had decided to apply for graduate school.

There was no reason he wouldn’t get in, truthfully, but it had been a while since undergrad and he would need to get letters of recommendation from his old professors, plus take the GRE, and write an essay for his application. All of it was due in March the following year, in order for him to start at the fall semester, but he wanted to get a head start, scared to leave anything to the last minute.

He was being given a chance to prove himself by going out with his friends for Halloween. Promising to not take off, not do any drugs, and limit himself to a few drinks. Agree to go home with Wooyoung and San at the end of the night.

He could do it. He felt it in his bones as he tied up his shaggy, grown out hair for his Geto costume. He could be good.

I can be good.

Wooyoung and San were getting ready and changing into their Gryffindor and Hufflepuff costumes in their bedroom, so the knock on their door in the living room confused Mingi.

“I’ll get it!” He called towards his friends’ bedroom.

He opened the door to Seonghwa, dressed as Rey Skywalker.

Mingi offered a small smile upon seeing the look of poorly disguised worry on Seonghwa’s face, “Hey, Hwa.” He moved out of the doorway, “Wanna come in?”

Seonghwa cleared his throat, stepping through the doorway, “Thanks.”

“Wooyoung and San are still getting ready but I can go get-”

“No!” Seonghwa cut him off, voice tense, “Sorry. No, thank you. I wanted to speak with you, actually. If you’re okay with that.”

Mingi led them over to the kitchen table, knowing it to be more out of earshot to his friends’ bedroom than the couch in the living room.

Seonghwa sat down across from him, folding his hands in his lap, almost like he was trying to take up as little space as possible.

Mingi waited for him to start. Maybe he was a little petty, but he really wanted Seonghwa to be the one to start. He felt that he was justified in being a little annoyed that it had taken the man two weeks to speak with him.

“Mingi…” Seonghwa’s voice trembled immediately, “I owe you an apology.”

“Hwa, you don’t have to, I understand-”

“No.” Seonghwa’s eyes snapped up to meet Mingi’s, “You don’t understand.”

Mingi leaned back into the chair, placing his clasped hands onto the table, “Okay. I’m listening.”

“The night that Jongho…” Seonghwa swallowed, “No one knows this besides Hongjoong. But.” He breathed deep through his nose, “I had a missed call, Mingi.”

Mingi blinked as the realization hit. “You-”

“My phone was on silent. I had been on the phone with family all day, frustrated about wedding stuff. You know my parents don’t approve. It’s not an excuse… It’s been eating me alive. It’s a big reason we have postponed the wedding for so long. I’m seeing a therapist for it now but I think I was taking some of my anger at myself out on you, Mingi. Because you were with him that night. You’re a heavy sleeper and you’d been drinking. We all know that. Jongho certainly knew that. It’s not your fault you didn’t wake up when he left. I see that now. But I was deflecting my frustration with myself onto you and blaming it all on that.”

“Hwa…” Mingi wanted to tell him it’s okay. The guilt of his own secret making itself known by trying to steal the air from his lungs, stomach twisting.

“No, please.” Seonghwa blinked back tears, “Let me finish.”

Mingi nodded, so Seonghwa continued, “When I got the call from Hongjoong. Well, Mingi, it hit me that I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I almost lost you, too. After yelling at you and kicking you out of my house.” A tear escaped his eye, making slow work through the makeup on his cheek, “I almost lost you, Mingi.” He sniffed, reaching for a paper towel to dab his eyes, “I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself. I’m so fucking glad that Hongjoong answered his phone. I should have been understanding. It never should have gotten that bad for you, Mingi, I’m so sorry.” His words started to rush out then, “I knew I should have been there at the hospital. I shouldn’t have stayed away, but honestly, Mingi, every time I thought about trying to talk to you, trying to face this, I nearly had a panic attack. Hongjoong was patient, of course, but he told me we weren’t going out tonight unless I talked to you. He was right. I’m so sorry it took this long.” He buried his head in his hands, “I understand if you can’t forgive me right away, Mingi. But I want you to know that I’m going to do better. I’m going to be there for you. I never want you to feel like you can’t come to me, or any of us. But please, please, Mingi, don’t let it get that bad again, I don’t know what I-”

“Hwa.” Mingi stood up, walking around the table, “Come here.” He opened his arms.

Seonghwa blinked at him from his chair until Mingi nodded, then his friend stood and let himself be hugged. “I’m so sorry.” Seonghwa mumbled into Mingi’s chest.

“I’m sorry, too. I never should have scared you guys like that.” Mingi admitted.

“I’m just glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.” Mingi squeezed him tighter, “And I forgive you, Hwa. If there’s one thing I’ve learned recently, it’s that we all process grief differently.” He released Seonghwa, moving back to his chair.

Seonghwa sat back down, “You sound like my therapist now.” A smile worked its way up the corner of his mouth.

“Well,” Mingi laughed, “I don’t have the right degree for that. But I have decided to apply for grad school.”

“Mingi!” Seonghwa’s face lit up with pride, “That’s amazing, honey. I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks, Hwa. I love you, you know?”

Seonghwa smiled, “I love you, too, Mingi. I promise I’ll do a better job of showing it.”

“I’ll take it. Any extra love you have sitting around.” Mingi joked.

“Deal.”

“And then I’ll double it and give it back.”

Seonghwa laughed, “I know you will. You try to hide it, Mingi, but I know you’re a loverboy. Soft. Hopeless romantic.”

Mingi’s head tipped back with his chuckle, acknowledging how right his friend was, “Just don’t tell anyone, okay? I have an image to protect.”

Seonghwa stuck out his pinky, “Your secret is safe with me. Pinky swear.”

“Pinky swear.” Mingi let his finger wrap around Seonghwa’s, sealing the deal.

Hongjoong, dressed as Kylo Ren, called a few minutes later, having been waiting in the lobby of the apartment building for them. The four of them went downstairs to meet him, walking towards the subway station without being asked. Mingi was sure that they normally would have called an Uber, but they finally seemed to be acknowledging his aversion to riding in a car.

They met Yeosang, dressed as a vampire, at the bar.

Mingi did well for a while, but after a few hours out around so many people, noticing things he normally would have acted impulsively on - people discreetly exchanging small baggies of white powder, someone making eyes at him from across the bar, a woman trying to grind on him on the dance floor - added a sharp edge to the situation that he wasn’t accustomed to. He felt his heart rate begin to pick up, pounding in his ears, which had also started to ring.

His instinct was to dart off out the front door alone, but he remembered his promises to ask for help if he needed it. He searched the room, finally spotting Yeosang leaving the bathrooms.

He rushed over, grabbing his friend by the arm, “Sangie.” His grip was too tight, he knew.

His vision started darkening around the outer edges. Unable to take a full deep breath.

“Mingi?” Yeosang studied him, seeing his chest heave, eyes looking like they were having trouble focusing, “Come on, let’s get you outside.”

Mingi’s brain couldn’t make sense of his words, “Am I in trouble again?” His voice sounded small.

“No, honey, you just need some air, I think.” Yeosang looked at him more seriously, trying to ensure his words got through, “Mingi-ssi. You’re not in trouble. You need fresh air. I’ve got you, come on.”

Mingi let himself be led outside, gulping the cold air down like water as fast as he could get it inside his lungs.

“Just breathe through your nose, Mingi, you’re okay.” Yeosang instructed as he helped Mingi sit against the wall of the building.

Sobs racked his body unexpectedly, “I’m not trying to make everything about me, I swear!” Mingi looked at Yeosang, eyes pleading, desperate for his friend to understand.

“Mingi, no. No one thinks that. No one should have ever made you feel like that.” He grabbed one of Mingi’s hands, crouching in front of him, “You just got overwhelmed. It’s okay, really. I promise.”

Wooyoung and San had noticed their absence, evidently, as Mingi could hear their voices, tight with worry, coming towards them.

“Oh, thank God.” San said, sitting down beside Mingi, “Hey, you’re okay, Mingi.”

“He got overwhelmed, I think he may have been having a panic attack. But he came and found me.” Yeosang explained.

Wooyoung took Mingi’s other side, pulling his other large hand into his lap, “Good job finding Yeosang, honey.” Wooyoung squeezed his hand, “You did exactly the right thing.”

Mingi still wasn’t back to reality, but his brain had started to clear somewhat, “No one is mad at me?”

San put an arm around his shoulder, pulling him over so his head fell to his broad shoulder, “No, Mingi, I promise. No one is mad. You did the right thing. Let’s get you home, yeah?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you guys leave early-”

He heard more footsteps approaching, “Of course we’re sure.” Hongjoong’s voice, “Come on. We’re all going to Wooyoung and San’s.”

“We’ll get takeout.” Seonghwa added.

“We can watch Avatar: The Last Airbender. I know you’ve been wanting us to watch it.” Wooyoung offered.

Mingi finally sat up, tears tracking down his cheeks, “Okay, yeah. That sounds good.”

Who knew letting your friends help you would be so nice.

Back at Wooyoung and San’s place, they piled together on the couch and the floor in front, pizza slices in hand as they watched Aang and the gang fight the Fire Nation. Mingi was wedged between Seonghwa and Hongjoong and he let his head fall to Seonghwa’s shoulder as he started to get sleepy.

He awoke a few hours later to find that everyone had stayed. He was in Seonghwa’s lap, everyone else snuggled together with blankets and pillows on the carpet or curled into armchairs. It felt like a sleepover they might have had in college. His heart ached with love for his friends. Jongho would have scoffed and acted opposed to it, but Mingi smiled as he pictured the man begrudgingly staying, probably ending up cuddling close with one of them on the floor.

For once, the thought of his friend didn’t send him spiraling.

He had agreed to stay another week at Wooyoung and San’s on their way back last night. He knew it was the right call. He laid his head back into Seonghwa’s lap and fell back asleep once more.

Three Years Ago

The roof of the bar was crowded, but Mingi and Jongho had managed to carve a spot on the railing for it.

“I’m confused why we’re drinking for this particular occasion!” Jongho had to practically shout over the music and voices.

“We’re celebrating for my mom!” Mingi said it like it was an explanation. It wasn’t.

“For her getting cheated on?” Jongho was still lost.

“For my dad finally signing the divorce papers!”

“Ohhh!” Jongho nodded, “Okay then why aren’t you drinking with your mom about it?”

“Because she’s not ready to celebrate it, but I am!” Mingi held his cup up, expecting Jongho to clink theirs together.

Jongho shook his head, finally doing what was expected of him, “To cheaters! May they learn their lesson and never do it again!”

“Cheers, I guess.” Mingi laughed, confused by what exactly his friend meant. “What’s worse, the cheater or the person they're cheating on with?”

Jongho considered, “The cheater. But it really depends on how close the other person is to the situation.”

“So you don’t think cheaters should be punished for cheating? Just learn their lesson and never do it again?”

“Their conscience will be punishment enough, I’m sure. Plus, I mean, I don’t think anyone is born a cheater. Or a mistress. Criminal. Everyone has things in their past that can explain their behavior, I think. It doesn’t mean they should never live a good life just because they do something bad.”

Mingi thought about what had just been said, unable to come up with anything to rebut with. “I think you’re one of the most empathetic people out there, Choi Jongho. Good work keeping it so well hidden. I fear if anyone knew, they would just take advantage of it.”

Jongho chuckled, “Shut up.” He took a sip of his drink, “But thank you. Don’t tell anyone.”

~part two~

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez mingi #ateez yunho #ateez fanfic #fix on #yunho packs #mingi packs #bittersweet #ow owie ow ow ouch #inspired by fleabag

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odetolithium · 4 months ago

Text

Snapetober 2024 Masterlist

⋆ angst, hurt/comfort, severitus ⋆

Day 1 - Warmth

TW: domestic abuse

There's a warmth to the voice of his mother, especially when she reads to him. 968 words

Day 2 - Garden

Severus escapes a heated Order meeting for a smoke, Sirius has the same idea. 740 words

Day 3 - Haunt

Young Severus visits his usual haunt on his free evening. 879 words

Day 4 - Torn

Severus visits Grimmauld Place after he's forced to kill his mentor. 227 words

Day 5 - Pillow

Severus experiences his first night at Hogwarts. 455 words

Day 6 - Roots

Harry is in detention, and Severus notices something is off. 657 words

Day 7 - Flame

Young Severus wants to do something nice for his mother's birthday. Making a cup of tea shouldn't be this hard. 314 words

Day 8 - Cosy

TW: suicide ideation

Severus cannot cope in the aftermath of Lily's death. Grieving in his bedroom, he is visited by an old friend. 594 words

Day 9 - Morning

Insomnia rears its ugly head, Severus takes a walk. 287 words

Day 10 - Dream

Severus looks after his most vulnerable students. He knows the pain of sleepless nights. 352 words

Day 11 - Buried

Severus is struggling to stay on top of all his roles and responsibilities. Minerva notices. 477 words

Day 12 - Victory

The news of Voldemort's demise reaches Hogwarts, Severus knows Lily hasn't survived. 250 words

Day 13 - Journey

TW: self-harm

Madam Pomfrey has always looked after Severus, his deteriorating mental health concerns her. 286 words

Day 14 - Trick

Lupin attempts to apologise after "the prank", Severus has enough to deal with. 555 words

Day 15 - Treat

Lily celebrates Sev's birthday, he's not used to the fuzzy feelings that come with the fuss 302 words

Day 16 - Tangle After a torturous evening with the Dark Lord, Severus is suffering with fever-induced visions. 466 words

Day 17 - Mirror Severus would be dead but at least Harry could see him. 187 words

Day 18 - Hush

Severus meets the new DADA teacher, facing his bully after all these years. 487 words

Day 19 - Discovery

Severus discovers Harry's secret and Umbridge's torture methods. 675 words

Day 20 - Fantasy

All his life, Severus wanted to believe in happy endings. 171 words

Day 21 - Play

TW: bullying and implied abuse

No one ever wanted to know Severus until Lily found him. 672 words Day 22 - Youth

The Dark Lord has returned. Severus considers the youth who will bear the consequences. 385 words

Day 23 - Watched

TW: self-harm

Severus is struggling with the return of the Dark Lord. He knows things are only going to get worse. Albus knows how much he suffers. 839 words

Day 24 - Shadow

TW: implied child abuse

Harry didn't expect Snape to find him in the hospital wing. He didn't expect him to be so attentive. 663 words

Day 25 - Doorway

TW: self-harm and implied suicide attempt

Severus was found trying to destroy the mark on his arm after he learns Lily is dead. Poppy and Minerva try to keep him safe. 324 words

#pro snape #severus snape #severitus #snapetober #snapetober2024 #snapetober 2024 #snape #severus

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inevitably-johnlocked · 3 months ago

Note

hewwo!! :3c

do you know any fics where one of them faints? purely scientific reasons...

Hi Lovely!

Here's what came up on a tag search of my offline MFL list:

Five Times John Fainted Inappropriately by theonlywater (T, 1,996 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Humour, Established Relationship) – And the one time Sherlock did instead. (FFNet)

All we do is hide away by AnneCumberbatch (E, 3,895 w., 38 Ch. || Post-TRF, Depressed John, John’s Blog/Epistolary, Paternal Mrs Hudson, Meddling Mycroft, Hospitalization, Mental Breakdown, Reunion, Fainting, Delusions, Pre-Slash, POV First Person John, Suicidal Ideation / Implied Suicide Attempt) – It's been 35 days since Sherlock threw himself off of Bart's hospital in front of John's eyes. 35 days since John threw himself onto the pavement at Sherlock's side, his knees soaking up the blood from his best friend. 35 days since John's world shuttered closed and dried up. 35 days. Part 4 of the I saw London without you series

Something terrible by ezzier (NR, 34,498+ w., 17/? Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Overdose, Suicidal Ideation / Attempt, Referenced/Implied Self Harm, Drug Abuse, Developing Relationship, Heavy Angst, Big Brother Mycroft, Protective Mycroft, Seizures, Fainting, Crying, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks) – John goes out of town with Mary for the weekend, but has a nagging feeling that something is very wrong with Sherlock. When Mycroft calls, he realizes he should have never left in the first place.

Define Vulnerabilty by TheGracefulBlueCat (T, 240,606 w. 97 Ch. || Canon Compliant, Aftermath of Torture, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Scars, Sherlock's Violin, Doctor John, John is a Good Friend, Flashbacks, Case Fic, Sedation, Sherlock is a Mess / Not Okay, Nightmares, Big Brother Mycroft, Asperger's Sherlock, Fainting, Sherlock's Mind Palace, Triggers, Panic Attacks, Hurt Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation, Blood and Gore, Drugs / Drug Use, Helpless / Vulnerable Sherlock, Protective John, Painful Repressed Memories, PTSD Sherlock, Medical Procedures, Drugged Lestrade, Lestrade Whump, Drugged Sherlock, Recovery, Crying Sherlock, Dissociation, Forehead Touching) – Shortly after Sherlock's return John realises something is very wrong with his friend. He, Greg and Mycroft try to help Sherlock as he falls deeper and deeper into the abyss called PTSD. But Sherlock is not ready to allow anyone in, but then the events of the current case cause him to hit bottom hard. Part 8 of the Lessons in Friendship series, Part 1 of the Hiatus series

====

If anyone has something to add, please do attach them in the notes or anon messages! <3

Sorry I'm not much help otherwise!! <3

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #johnlock fic reqs #fainting fics #help steph find fics

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serickswrites · 1 year ago

Text

Whump Series

Eyes--status complete. 8 parts. TW: kidnapping, self-sacrifice, coma?, blood, weapons, honestly this is magical shit so i have no idea how to tag it, some team elements, but not overt team whump

Roadtrip--status complete. 12 parts. TW: kidnapping, restraints, drugging, sexual assault, rape, non-con, stabbing, blood, hospital, dehumanization, gagging, creepy/intimate whumper, escape attempts (I hope I got all the tags). Has some team elements, but not overt team whump

Annoyed--status complete. 6 parts. TW: captivity, torture, whipping, blood, creepy/intimate whumper, sexual assault, noncon, videotaping, rescue

Fit--status complete. 5 parts. TW: kidnapping, captivity, restraints, muzzle, noncon, sexual assault, physical assault, drowning, collapse, broken bones, implied hurt/comfort/hurt/aftermath/hurt/recovery

Nothing--status complete. 7 parts. TW: emotional manipulation, noncon, dissociation, physical violence, broken bones, bruises, choking, suffocation, emotional whump, caretaker and whumpee

See--status complete. 5 parts. TW: captivity, restraints, torture, blood, rescue, hospital, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery. Has team elements, but is not team whump

Where--status complete. 4 parts. TW: blood, torture, captivity, emotional whump, hospital, unclear character status at the end

Mutual--status complete. 7 parts. TW: kidnapping, captivity, restraints, whipping, blood, knives, beating, bruises, wounds, suffocation, choking, rescue, explosion, self-sacrifice, video tapes, emotional whump

Prepared --status complete. 3 parts. TW: mcd, blood, emotional whump

Know--status complete. 6 parts. TW: blood, kidnapping, torture, restraints, two whumpers, rescue, hospital

The Gift--status complete. 7 parts. TW: captivity, torture, physical violence, blood, noncon, buried alive, two whumpers, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hospital

Alive--status complete. 5 parts. TW: torture, captivity, restraints, water torture, electrocution, hospital, emotional whump, self sacrifice, hurt/comfort, hurt/recovery, hurt/aftermath, rescue. Has team elements, but is not team whump

How--status complete. 6 parts. TW: captivity, torture, restraints, whipping, blood, wounds, botched escape, actual escape, two whumpers

Take--status complete. 5 parts. TW: captivity, torture, rescue, scars, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt recovery.

Dearest Forsaken--status complete. 10 parts. TW: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, wounds, gore, knives, physical violence, electrocution, drowning, choking, white torture, sensory deprivation, rescue, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery. Has team elements but is not team whump.

Late--status complete. 2 parts. TW: drowning, kidnapping, cpr; rescue. Has team elements, but is not team whump

Dramatic--status complete. 4 parts. TW: hostage situation, self sacrifice, guns, gunfire, gunshot, blood, mcd. Has team elements, but is not team whump.

Choke--status complete. 5 parts. TW: captivity, choking, strangulation, drowning, passive suicidal ideation, temporary character death, cpr, rescue, hospital, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery

Rescue--status complete. 5 parts. TW: captivity, failed rescue attempt, torture, blood, wounds, sickness, rescue, hospital. Has team elements, but is not team whump

Bloody Valentine--status complete. 6 parts. TW: mcd, blood, gore, wounds, kidnapping, physical violence, hospital, yandere whumper

Hunger--status complete. 2 parts. TW: captivity, torture, starvation, cruel whumper, fawning, feigned fawning

Ice--status complete. 3 parts. TW: captivity, escape/rescue, drowning, hypothermia, cpr, mcd. Not team whump, but has team elements.

Secrets--status complete. 5 parts. TW: kidnapping, restraints, blood, torture, forced to watch, rescue

Want--status complete. 5 parts. TW: captivity, restraints, kidnapping, yandere whumper, physical violence, drugging, sexual assault, noncon, rescue (x2), MCD, knives

Good Times, Bad Times--status complete. 6 parts. TW: captivity, restraints, torture, noncon, two whumpers, sadistic whumper, creepy/intimate whumper, rescue

52 Weeks--status complete. 8 parts. TW: captivity, restraints, torture, blood, wounds, video tapes, rescue. Not team whump, but has team elements.

In Plain Sight--status complete. 5 parts. TW: captivity, torture, blood, wounds, burns, restraints, medical care, hospital, caretaker and whumpee

Not of This World--status complete. 10 parts. TW: kidnapping, captivity, blood, murder, death (not mcd), noncon, aliens

Say It--status complete. 5 parts. TW: captivity, restraints, knives, blood, wounds, unconsciousness, emotional whump, escape, hospital, hurt/recovery, hurt/aftermath, hurt/comfort, caretaker and whumpee.

Morning --status complete. 5 parts. TW: referenced captivity, referenced torture, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

Reaper at the Gate--status complete. 7 parts. TW: restraints, blood, torture, captivity, botched escape attempt, physical violence, electrocution, drowning, illness, fever, rescue, caretaker and whumpee, unclear character status. Not team whump, but has team elements.

The Sea Inside--status complete. 9 parts. TW: blood, wounds, stabbing, potential drowning, captivity, torture, cruel whumper, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee (mostly comfort tbh)

Legends Rise--status complete. 8 parts. TW: public humiliation, whipping, torture, restraints, blood, stabbing, knives, unconsciousness, defiant whumpee, threat of death.

Song of the Siren--status complete. 6 parts. TW: yandere whumper, captivity, magic, soul sucking, manipulation, drowning, implied mcd.

Awake--status complete. 6 parts. TW: head injury, drugging, broken bones, noncon, yandere whumper, unclear character status.

Come On--status complete. 5 parts (including epilogue). TW: captivity, blood, wounds, infection, bandages, drowning, knives, stabbing, mcd, grief, mourning, hurt/no comfort, caretaker and whumpee.

Every Breath--status complete. 5 parts. TW: referenced torture, referenced captivity, sick fic, medical whump, yandere whumper, drugging, creepy/intimate whumper, unclear character status.

Royal Pain--status complete. 6 parts. TW: torture, restraints, bruises, blood, wounds, emotional whump, cruel whumper, self sacrifice, mcd, caretaker and whumpee, hurt/no comfort.

This Means War--status complete. 8 parts. TW: kidnapping, torture, choking, strangulation, restraints, unconsciousness, rescue, caretaker and whumpee, hospital, unclear character status (multiple)

Secret Agent Man--status complete. 7 parts. TW: captivity, torture, restraints, broken bones, bruises, wounds, injury, blood, knives, hospital, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, rescue, caretaker and whumpee, two whumpers

On a Limb--status complete. 3 parts. TW: captivity, torture, rescue, broken bones, amputation, hospital, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery

Lethal Weapon--status complete. 7 parts. TW: conditioning, manipulation, captivity, hidden injury, gunshot, blood, wounds, unconsciousness, hospital, self sacrifice, hurt/comfort, hurt/recovery, hurt/aftermath. Team elements, but not team whump

The Night We Met--status complete. 4 parts. TW: captivity, torture, restraints, noncon, blood, wounds, drugging, mcd, two whumpers, creepy/intimate whumper, cruel whumper

At Last--status complete. 4 parts. TW: captivity, torture, wounds, blood, bruises, unconsciousness, hospital, escape, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hurt/comfort, caretaker and whumpee

Words--status complete. 2 parts. TW: emotional whump, threats, torture, captivity, restraints, wounds, blood, stab wounds, mcd, grief, hurt/no comfort, caretaker and whumpee

Once and for All--status complete. 7 parts. TW: kidnapping, restraints, gags, physical violence, torture, blood, bruises, broken bones, noncon, choking, unconsciousness, mcd, two whumpers, hurt/no comfort

Forever--status complete. 5 parts. TW: yandere, drugging, magic, poisoning, unconsciousness, self sacrifice

Stuck On You--status complete. 3 parts. TW: captivity, torture, broken bones, escape, hospital, hurt/recovery, hurt/aftermath, two whumpees

Quake--status complete. 3 parts. TW: earthquake, head injury, blood, unconsciousness, rescue, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hospital.

Undercover--status complete. 3 parts. TW: blood, gunshot, wounds, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, blood, gunshot, mcd, hurt/no comfort

Grateful--status complete. 3 parts. TW: referenced torture, referenced captivity, scars, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

Chatter--status complete. 5 parts. TW: restraints, torture, exposure, hypothermia, unconsciousness, noncon touching, noncon, escape, defiant whumpee, creepy/intimate whumper, hurt/aftermath

Higher Love--status complete. 7 parts including epilogue. TW: captivity, torture, drugging, noncon, sexual assault, rape, hospital, rescue, dissociation, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hurt/comfort, caretaker and whumpee, yandere whumper, cravings, substance abuse, recovery.

Sweet Nothings--status complete. 2 parts. TW: injury, hospital, unconsciousness, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

Hook, Line, and Sinker--status complete. 8 parts. TW: captivity, restraints, gag, self sacrifice, torture, stabbing, blood, gun, gunshot, mcd, hurt/no comfort, caretaker and whumpee

Touch Them--status complete. 7 parts including alternate ending. TW: captivity, restraints, torture, unconsciousness, blood, head injury, forced to watch, choking, strangulation, suffocation, begging, noncon, rape, broken bones, mcd, caretaker and whumpee, creepy/intimate whumper. Alternate does not have MCD

Are You Scared--status complete. 2 parts. TW: captivity, torture, restraints, buried alive, temporary character death, cpr, rescue, hospital, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

On Three--status complete. 3 parts. TW: captivity, torture, restraints, forced to watch, strangulation, broken bones, physical violence, escape

Good Things Come To Those Who Wait--status complete. 5 parts. TW: captivity, restraints, torture, blood, nail, wounds, rescue, unconsciousness, physical violence, unclear character status, hospital, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

Ready, Set, Go--status complete. 8 parts. TW: captivity, restraints, torture, suffocation, asphyxiation, unconsciousness, rescue, physical violence, temporary character death, cpr, hospital, hurt/aftermath, hurt/comfort, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

Two Birds, One Bullet--status complete. 6 parts. TW: captivity, threat of death, forced to watch, self sacrifice, gun, gun violence, falling from a great height, potential mcd, blood, broken bones, torture, gunshot, gunshot wound, blood, unclear character status, hospital, intubation, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

Compass--status complete. 3 parts. TW: captivity, torture, restraints, hunting, cruel sadistic whumper, pursuit, gun shot, unclear character status

Close--status complete. 4 parts. TW: captivity, restraints, torture, forced to watch, electrocution, forced to hear, rescue

Unhand--status complete. 5 parts. TW: captivity, torture, restraints, self sacrifice, physical violence, unconsciousness, blood, burns, cuts, appears to be mcd, but is not actually, nightmares, rescue, hurt/aftermath, hurt/comfort, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

In Your Arms--status complete. 3 parts. TW: kidnapping, torture, restraints, bruises, beating, rescue, gun fire, gunshot, blood, wounds, bleeding out, unconsciousness, temporary character death, cpr, hospital, bedside vigil, emotional manipulation, self sacrifice, lies, caretaker and whumpee, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery

Still With Us

Make Me

You're Awake--status complete. 3 parts. TW: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, wounds, blood loss, rescue, unconsciousness, hospital, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

So Tired

Miss Me?

Strength in Your Bones

Tender is the Night

We've Had a Good Run--status complete. 3 parts. TW: captivity, restraints, torture, drowning, temporary character death, rescue, cpr, failed rescue, mcd, hurt/no comfort

Shake and Shiver

Silence

Electrify

Frozen Tears

Heavy Burden--status complete. 5 parts. TW: captivity, restraints, torture, botched escape/rescue attempt, strangulation, cruel whumper, blood, cuts, wounds, mcd, escape, failed rescue, hurt/no comfort, caretaker and whumpee

Walk

Devil's Advocate

Thin Ice--status complete. 3 parts. TW: captivity, torture, brands, burns, restraints, cruel whumper, hurt/no comfort, mcd

You're Doing Great

Twenty-Three and Me

All Quiet--status complete. 4 parts. TW: escape attempt, torture, captivity, restraints, drugging, experimentation, blood, broken bones, unconsciousness, physical violence, blood, forced to watch, hospital, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, guilt

Let Me Help You--status complete; 2 parts. TW: bruises, blood, broken bones, unconsciousness.

Another catatonia request--status complete; 2 parts. TW: referenced torture, referenced captivity, catatonia, caretaker and whumpee, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery

Dangerous Game--status complete; 3 parts. TW: captivity, restraints, torture, threat of death, pursuit, escape, stabbing, blood, mcd, hurt/no comfort, failed rescue

Lonely Place of Longing--status complete; 17 parts. TW: captivity, restraints, dehumanization, manipulation, torture, blood, unconsciousness, wounds, medical care, gore, stabbing, cuts, knife, gun, gunshot, cruelty, heartbreak, self sacrifice, mcd, cpr, failed cpr, heartbreak, hurt/no comfort. Living weapon whumpee

Electric Feel--status complete; 5 parts. TW: captivity, restraints, torture, electrocution, incontinence, drowning, gag, unconsciousness, rescue, cardiac arrest, cpr, mcd, hurt/no comfort

It's Over--status complete. 4 parts. TW: captivity, restraints, torture, blood, knife, stabbing, wounds, mcd, rescue, hospital, revenge, recapture, unconsciousness, unclear character status, rescue, too late rescue, mcd, grief, hurt/no comfort

Lake Lachrymose

On My Way

Antidote

Rope

Wake Up

#serickswrites #whump #whump writing #whumpblr #whump community #not writing #writing organization

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