#and I’m 7k into on that is going to be a one shot but god damnit I could make it into a series

[hellsbellssinclub]

Too many fic ideas 😠😠😠

Too many WIPs 😠😠😠

Too many forgotten plot points to continue stories 😠😠😠

Too many new fandoms 😠😠😠

[mononijikayu]

here with me — ryomen sukuna.

Nanami Kento, who had been silently observing, took a sip of his beer and sighed. “You could just admit you miss your girlfriend and put an end to this.” Sukuna scoffed. “I don’t miss her.” His phone buzzed again. [My Wife]: Don’t lie. I know you do. Sukuna clenched his jaw. Yuuji, peeking over, gasped dramatically. “Oh my God. You totally miss senpai right now, captain!” “Shut up.”

Genre: Alternate Universe — College! AU;

Warning/s: Short Fic, General Rating, AFAB! Reader, Use of She/Her, Use of Female Centered Identification, Pet Names (Babe, My Love, Loverboy, Etc), Romance, Fluff, Humour, Love, Comfort/No Hurt, Established Relationship, Lovers, Dating, Feeling, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Idiots In Love, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Healthy Relationship, Friendships, Profanity, Swearing, Teasing, Volleyball, Volleyball Captain! Sukuna, Boyfriend! Sukuna, Girlfriend! Reader;

Words: 7k words.

Note: i was like, 'you know, this is just going to be 5k' and then there is 7k. anyway, that's better than going to 10k right now. also, tokyo great bears is a v.league team in japan!!! i hope you enjoy this anyway. it missed doing sukuna fluff, so this is that. the satosugu one will be massive, so please look forward to that too!!! i love yall <3

masterlist

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kayu's playlist, side 2500;

lovesick — ryomen sukuna.

══════════════════

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE CRYING AGAIN, BABE.” Your boyfriend’s voice carries through the quiet apartment, dripping with amusement. You don’t even have to look up to know that Ryomen Sukuna is standing over you, arms crossed, head tilted, thoroughly entertained by your suffering.

You sniffle, rubbing at your tired reddish eyes as your laptop screen blurs in front of you. The godforsaken research paper that’s been ruining your life sits half-finished, paragraphs merging into nonsense as your brain screams for sleep.

Meanwhile your boyfriend Sukuna is still in his volleyball uniform, sweat-damp hair sticking to his forehead, his jersey slightly loose from late night practice. The way his muscles flex as he runs a hand through his hair would normally be distracting, but at this moment, your academic despair takes priority.

You groan dramatically, slumping forward so your forehead rests against the keyboard. “I’m so tired. I think my brain is melting. I swear I just hallucinated my professor sending me an email saying, ‘Just give up.’”

Sukuna snorts, nudging your chair with his knee. “Yeah, I doubt that. But if he did say that, he’s the only smart one in your department.”

You shoot him a glare, cheeks puffed in frustration. “You’re so unsupportive.”

“I literally support you every damn day.” Sukuna scoffs, crouching beside you. His gaze flickers to your laptop screen before landing back on your tired face. “Besides, this is too much. You shouldn't be crying over this thing.”

You sniffled dramatically. “I gotta get it done now or I won’t finish it. I need to graduate. I need to—”

“I’m taking that laptop.”

You gasped, glaring at him as you wrapped the laptop in your arms. “Don’t you dare, Ryomen Sukuna. I’ll bite your hands if you don’t let me finish this!”

“Hey hey, slow down on that government naming me.” He frowned at your words, raising his hands as though to surrender. “My name is my love or nothing, babe.”

“Well, you’re being mean to me.” You snicker back at him, glaring at him. “So deal with it, I’m not in the mood to be less cranky. I’m dealing with using 200% of my neurons here!”

Sukuna scoffed and plopped down on the floor beside you, stretching his legs out. “And some of us have to use our muscles, which is way harder.” He flexed his arms for emphasis. “You try jumping five feet in the air and smashing a ball down someone’s throat.”

You shot him an unimpressed look. “Oh, sure. Jumping and smacking things. Such an intellectual feat.”

He grinned, poking your forehead. “Hey, don’t disrespect the art of spiking. Meanwhile, your brain is overheating just from looking at some stupid numbers.”

You swatted his hand away. “Not all of us were blessed with freakish athletic ability, you freak.”

“And not all of us are dumb enough to cry over physics.”

You, the top Astrophysics major, gasped dramatically. “Excuse you! Physics is literally the reason you can even play volleyball! The trajectory of the ball, the force you apply, your jump height! All the work of physics!”

Sports Science major Ryomen Sukuna blinked at you. Then, in an exaggerated show of rebellion as he rolls his eyes, he tossed his head back and groaned. “This nerd talk all around, my god, babe. My ears are bleeding from all this.”

You glared at your boyfriend and quickly grabbed the nearest pillow, launching it straight at his face. He caught it with one hand. Because of course he did, before launching himself onto the couch beside you. You make a hmp! sound at him as you turned away from him. He snickers at your reaction, slyly grinning.

“You’re so annoying, you know that?” you grumbled as he sprawled across your lap like a cat.

“And yet, you still tutor me before every test.”

Your boyfriend’s voice is smug, so unbearably smug, that you feel like the confidence about it was blinding you more than this laptop is. But there’s something underneath it, something warm and soft that makes your heart flutter in the most annoying way possible all at once.

You roll your eyes, refusing to meet his gaze as you take your notepad from the side and start flipping through your notes. “That’s because if I don’t, you’d bomb half your exams and embarrass both of us.”

Sukuna huffs out a laugh, stretching his arms behind his head like he has all the time in the world. “Nah. I’d do fine. But I like it when you explain things to me.” His grin turns just a little sharper, more teasing. “Your nerd voice is cute.”

Your cheeks heat up instantly. “I do not have a nerd voice—”

“Face it, babe.” he interrupts smoothly, tilting his head with that lazy confidence that drives you insane. “Like it or not, you love me with everything you’ve got.”

You hate how easily he gets under your skin. Your grip tightens on your pen as you fight to keep your expression neutral, but the burn in your cheeks betrays you. “I tolerate you, at most.”

He laughs, the kind that shakes his shoulders, before reaching out and ruffling your hair like you’re some child.

“Tolerate, love. It’s all the same thing, babe.”

You swat his hand away with a scowl. “Go shower, you stink.”

“You love my stink, don’t you?” he teases, waggling his eyebrows.

“Absolutely not.”

And yet despite that, you still find yourself watching as your boyfriend carefully stands, stretching his arms over his head, his massively toned muscles flexing eagerly under the dim glow of your desk lamp.

“Anyway, babe.” he continues, voice still laced with amusement. “Let's make a deal. One more hour of this, then you come set for me at practice tomorrow.”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m not your personal setter.”

He leans down slightly, smirking. “No, you’re more than that.”

His voice drops, just enough to make your breath hitch.

“You’re my favorite person.”

You blink back at him.

“The love of my life.”

Your heart stutters.

“My one and only.”

Your brain is short-circuiting.

“My forever.”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Sukuna grins at your stunned silence, clearly reveling in it. “You get the jazz.”

For once, you have no comeback. Because despite how much you bicker, how stubborn you both are, this has always been your rhythm. He was your rhythm.

He was the first one and only one. He always has been, always will be. And you can’t think of anyone else better than him. You couldn’t think of anyone you loved more than him.

You both were there together at every late-night practice, at every study session, at every stress-induced breakdown each exam and competition season. He was there. And so were you.

Together, that's what matters. Always together. Through the teasing, through the arguments, through the absolute chaos that was being with Ryomen Sukuna, you always found your way back to each other.

Because at the end of the day, it wasn’t just volleyball, or studying, or endless banter. It was love.

And damn it, Ryomen Sukuna knew it.

The next evening, you found yourself exactly where you swore you wouldn’t ever be—wearily standing on the volleyball court, tossing a ball to Ryomen Sukuna like his personal setter. You scowl as you set another perfect pass, and he jumps, spiking it down with ridiculous ease.

“Good set, babe.” He smirks, jogging up to you. “Almost like you wanted to be here.”

“This is literally the last time I’m doing this!” you grumbled, feeling so tired of all of this. 

“Aw, c’mon, babe.” he drawls, throwing an arm around your shoulders, sweat dampening your sleeve. “I think you like spoiling me.”

“I think I’d like to throw this ball at your head.”

Sukuna just laughs, ruffling your hair like you hadn’t just threatened him. 

God, you absolutely hate it when he is like this.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe.” he teases you with a grin. “Now, let’s go again. Setter of my heart.”

You groan dramatically, but even as you roll your eyes, you toss him another ball with all the effort you have in you. Sukuna smirked, taking an effortless approach before leaping into the air. His body twisted, his arm cocked back, and with an earth-shattering force, he slammed the ball over the net. 

It hit the ground so hard that even the team manager, who was watching from the sidelines, gave an approving nod. From the other side of the gym, the coach merely nods at him. His teammates on the bench, throwing a thumbs up. His grin only grows wider.

“Tch. Too easy, babe.” Sukuna said as he landed.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, look at you. The volleyball prodigy. The greatest of all time.”

“I mean, you said it, not me.” He winked.

Before you could throw a snarky remark back, one of his junior teammates strolled over, grinning. “Hey, you’re pretty good at setting, senpai! Ever thought about joining the team?”

Your eyes widened. “Absolutely not.”

Sukuna, however, laughed. “Yeah, no way. She would probably fight the referee if I got a bad call.”

You scoffed. “Excuse me, I am a civil person.”

“Bro, you threatened a vending machine because it ate your money before we came here.”

You crossed your arms. “That was different. That was war.”

His other junior teammate whistled. “She’s scarier than you, Cap!”

“I know, right?” Sukuna grinned, draping an arm over your shoulders. “That’s why I keep ‘em around. Gotta have someone to fight my battles when I’m too tired.”

You gave him a flat look. “I will actually fight you.”

“You love me too much, babe.” he shot back, tapping your chin playfully.

And the worst part? You couldn’t even argue.

How could you argue, when he’s right?

Because deep down, you knew that through everything he puts you through, all that annoying bickering, all that busy schedules and never having enough time, all those late-night study sessions where you argue, and all grueling practices and games you never got to see.

Ryomen Sukuna was your person, through thick and thin.

And you already knew you were his.

“Ugh.” you groaned, shrugging him off. “Just shut up and spike the ball.”

He laughed, grabbing another ball. “Anything for my favorite setter.”

“Don’t push it.”

══════════════════

YOU HAD A LOT OF MEETINGS FOR YOU THESIS TODAY. And he already missed you. Perhaps people noticed. Perhaps they didn’t. But he was moping. It wasn’t dramatic, no slumped shoulders or audible sigh. But it was there. 

The quiet shift in his mood, the slight downturn of his usual cocky smirk, the way his scarlet eyes flickered to his phone every few minutes like he was waiting for a message that hasn't come yet. If you were here, you’d have called him out already. Probably teased him about how ridiculous he was being. Maybe poked his cheek and told him to stop sulking, loverboy.

But you weren’t here.

And that was the problem.

The six of them sat around a table at their usual late-night hangout spot, half-empty glasses and plates of food scattered across the surface. Gojo Satoru was leaning back in his chair, lazily spinning his straw around his drink, his sunglasses perched unnecessarily on his nose despite it being well past midnight.

Geto Suguru was mid-laugh at something Itadori Yuuji had said, shaking his head with that signature smooth amusement. Yuuji, oblivious as always, beamed at his own joke.

While Fushiguro Megumi just sighed, clearly regretting every decision that led him here. Nanami Kento, ever the responsible one, merely sipped his drink, casting a side-eye at the chaos unfolding before him.

And then there was Ryomen Sukuna. Sitting at the edge of the group, arms crossed, brow slightly furrowed, barely engaging in the conversation.

“You know, my love.” Gojo drawled suddenly, stirring his drink with a knowing grin, Sukuna glaring at him. “If you miss your babe sweeeetheart so much, you could just call her already.”

Sukuna scowled, clicking his tongue. “I don’t miss her.”

Geto snorted. “Says the guy who’s been checking his phone every two minutes like a middle schooler waiting for a text back.”

“I’m checking for team updates, dumbass.”

“Uh-huh.” Geto smirked, unimpressed. “And the way you’ve been pouting all night?”

“I don’t pout.”

Yuuji, eyes twinkling with mischief, leaned forward with a conspiratorial grin. “It’s okay, bro-senpai. You’re in love. It happens.”

Sukuna shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

Megumi, sipping his drink, muttered. “I feel like I shouldn’t be here for this, senpai.”

Nanami, ever the instigator, took a sip of his beer and sighed. “Senpai, if you’re going to mope like this, at least be productive about it.”

Sukuna groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m not moping.”

“Oh, you definitely are.” Gojo grinned before gasping dramatically. “Wait—does this mean you’re the clingy one in the relationship?”

Yuuji’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God, you totally are!”

Geto clapped his hands together. “Wow. This changes everything.”

Sukuna slammed his hands on the table, face burning as he growled. “I AM NOT CLINGY.”

And yet, as his phone buzzed in his pocket, his hand immediately shot down to check it. There was one new message.

[My Wife]: Miss me, my love?

Ryomen Sukuna blinked, staring at his phone like it had just personally attacked him. The words sat there, glowing mockingly on his screen, and despite himself, he felt something stupidly warm unfurl in his chest. 

You always did this, you always loved this. You liked sending these cheesy little texts at just the right moment, as if you knew exactly when he was missing you most. It was infuriating. It was annoying. It was—

“Ohhh, he finally got a text!”

Sukuna’s head snapped up, his glare cutting straight through Gojo, who was grinning like he had just won the lottery.  Before Sukuna could tell him to shut the hell up, Geto leaned in, eyes glinting with amusement. 

“Let me guess. It’s from senpai, isn’t it?”

Yuuji, who had been stuffing fries into his mouth, perked up. “From who?”

“Oh, come on, Yuuji! Are you already so drunk that you forget?” Geto drawled, tossing an arm over the back of his chair. “Who else could make Sukuna go all soft like that?”

Gojo Satoru’s grin widened. He slammed a hand on the table and whooped, loud enough to make half the restaurant turn their heads.

“LOVERBOY SUKUNA, EVERYONE!”

The words echoed through the room like an explosion.

Ryomen Sukuna froze.

A second later, he flipped them off so fast it was almost impressive.

“Shut the hell up!” he hissed, his face heating up as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

Gojo, entirely unbothered, just leaned back in his chair, sipping his drink. “Aww, don’t be shy, loverboy. What did they say? Do you miss me, my darling, my love? My heart aches in your absence?”

Sukuna’s eye twitched. “You really wanna die tonight, huh?”

“Pfft.” Geto Suguru smirked. “You wouldn’t kill me. Who else would call you out on your romantic tendencies, captain?”

“Romantic tendencies.” Megumi repeated dryly, unimpressed by the entire conversation. Yet, he snickers.

Nanami Kento, who had been silently observing, took a sip of his beer and sighed. “You could just admit you miss your girlfriend and put an end to this.”

Sukuna scoffed. “I don’t miss her.”

His phone buzzed again.

[My Wife]: Don’t lie. I know you do.

Sukuna clenched his jaw.

Yuuji, peeking over, gasped dramatically. “Oh my God. You totally miss senpai right now, captain!”

“Shut up.”

Another buzz.

[My Wife]: See you later! I’ll come home later. Let’s have late night ramen~

Sukuna groaned, dragging a hand down his face before standing up abruptly. “Shit.”

“Groaning already like this missing her, my lov—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

Gojo laughed. “But I want to!”

“WHIPPED.” Geto called soon after.

“PATIENT ZERO OF THE SUKUNA SIMP DISEASE!” Gojo added.

“Tragic.” Nanami muttered. “We’re gonna get kicked out of this place soon, if you keep screaming like this.”

Yuuji laughs. “I’m sure the owner doesn’t mind! I mean, we're they're only customers right now! And we ate a lot!”

Maybe he was a little whipped. Not that he’d ever admit it. But as he checked his phone again, staring at your message, fighting the smile threatening to creep onto his lips. He couldn’t even be mad. Because yeah, maybe he was a little clingy. But for you? He didn’t mind.

“So…..” Megumi started, arms crossed as he stared at the three seniors. This takes Sukuna out of his thoughts. “You guys are really leaving, huh?”

Gojo grinned. “Aw, are you gonna miss us already, ‘gumi?”

“No, not really.” Megumi deadpanned.

Yuuji, however, looked genuinely sad. “Man, it’s gonna suck without you guys around.” He turned to Geto. “Who’s gonna treat us to food now?”

Geto placed a hand on his chest, pretending to be offended. “So I was just a meal ticket to you, huh, Yuu?”

Yuuji nodded shamelessly. “Yeah, senpai! You are!”

“Graduation’s a good thing, no?” Nanami said, adjusting his glasses. “We’ve all worked hard to get to this point. But…” He suddenly glanced at Sukuna, a knowing smirk on his face. “Oh, Cap, have you told them?”

The table went quiet. All eyes turned toward Sukuna, who immediately shot Nanami a warning glare. “Shut up already, Nanami.”

Gojo and Geto perked up together like wolves smelling blood. 

“Eh? What’s this? Is Sukuna hiding something?” Gojo grinned.

“Oho, now I’m curious, Nanami.” Geto added, resting his chin on his hand.

Nanami Kento casually sipped his drink, completely ignoring the way Ryomen Sukuna was silently mouthing, Don’t you dare, I’m not making you captain if you say anything, you punk!

Yuuji leaned in, eyes sparkling. “What is it? What is it?”

Megumi, though not as outwardly excited, was definitely paying attention now.  “Yeah, senpai. Just be out with it.”

Nanami finally set his glass down and smirked. “Our captain here is getting offers to play for the Japan National Volleyball Team. And from several V.League teams, from Division 1.”

The entire table erupted.

“WHAAAT?!” Yuuji nearly choked on his drink.

“YOU SNEAKY LITTLE—” Gojo grabbed Sukuna’s shoulders, shaking him. “YOU WERE JUST GONNA LEAVE WITHOUT TELLING US YOU’RE GOING PRO?!”

Geto whistled. “Damn. A future Olympian among us, huh?”

Megumi raised an eyebrow. “That’s actually impressive.”

Sukuna groaned, shoving Gojo off him. “Goddammit, Nanami.”

Nanami simply adjusted his glasses. “They deserved to know.”

“Yeah, Cap! How were you gonna just keep that to yourself?” Yuuji pouted. “Dude, that’s so cool!”

Sukuna ran a hand down his face. “Because it’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, shut up, it’s a huge deal.” Geto said. “You’re about to play with the best in the country.”

Gojo gasped dramatically. “Wait, does this mean we’ll see you in the Olympics one day? Oh my god, I’ll tell everyone I knew you before you were famous.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes. “I swear, I’m not taking any of you to my games. Also, what the fuck are you talking about Gojo? Aren’t you receiving offers too?”

“That’s cute, you know?” Gojo said, wrapping an arm around him. “You think you have a choice. I’d be there whether I was a player or not!”

Yuuji was practically vibrating with excitement. “Wait, when’s your first official game? Do we get free tickets?”

Megumi sighed. “You just want free tickets.”

“Of course I do! My captain, oh my captain is gonna be a pro athlete! I have to be there!”

Sukuna clicked his tongue, but there was a hint of a smirk on his face. “Tch. Whatever. Just don’t embarrass me when you guys come.”

Gojo gasped again. “So we are invited?!”

“Shut up.” Sukuna scowls.

Too late. The group was already planning how they were going to support him, talking over each other with excitement. And despite Sukuna’s grumbling, there was no denying it—he was lucky to have these idiots around.

══════════════════

HE DOESN’T KNOW WHY HE WAS HESITATING. But he was. Ryomen Sukuna leans against the counter, arms crossed, staring down at the contract like it personally offended him. The crisp white pages sit on the smooth surface, the official emblem of the Japan National Volleyball Team and the V.League teams staring right back at him, almost taunting.

The offer is everything he’s worked for. Everything he’s dreamed of since he was a kid, chasing after a ball bigger than his hands, swearing that one day, he’d make it. That he’d be the best. He’d risked everything to get here—the grueling training, the late nights, the injuries, the sacrifices.

And yet, he hesitates.

“You’re thinking too hard, ‘kuna, my love.”

Your voice is light, teasing, as you nudge his side. He doesn’t budge, still staring at the contract, but you see his jaw tighten. You lean closer, resting your chin on his shoulder. “This is a no-brainer, my love. You should go for it.”

His only response is a sharp tch as he exhales through his nose. You know that look on his face. It’s the same one he wears after a lost match, after a bad set, after a moment of hesitation that costs him a point. It’s the look he gets when he’s thinking too much, overanalyzing, masking his real concern behind that layer of indifference he wears like armor.

Finally, he mutters, “I’d miss your graduation.” His voice is quiet, but the weight of it lands heavy between you. “You said it was that date, right? The first game for V.League is during your graduation.”

Your chest tightens at that. He says it like it’s just a fact, but you hear the frustration underneath. The regret. Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t say things outright. At least not when it comes to this. He’s bad at being sentimental, but you know what he’s really saying.

Your boyfriend has always felt like he’s missing too much when it comes to you. He never likes it. Hates it, even. That he can’t be there for you the way you are for him. You smile, softer this time, bumping your forehead lightly against his shoulder. 

“And I’d miss seeing you play on the national team if you don’t take this.” You straighten up, turning to him fully. “We’ll make up for it, I promise.”

His gaze flickers to yours, hesitant, searching. He holds it longer than usual, like he’s measuring the truth in your words. “…You sure?”

“Absolutely.” You reach for his hand, squeezing it tight. “I’ll be cheering for you from wherever I am. Whether I’m in the crowd or watching from a screen.” You nudge him gently. “So go. Do what you were meant to do.”

He lets out a breath, shaking his head with a smirk. “Tch. You’re annoying.”

But when he finally picks up the pen and signs the contract, his grip on your hand doesn’t loosen. If anything, it lingers—solid, warm, unspoken reassurance. When he looks at you after, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s fighting back something softer, you can’t help but smile.

You loved this man too much.

The pen drags across the paper, his signature bold and final. It’s done. There’s no going back now. Sukuna leans back against the counter, exhaling like he’s been holding his breath this whole time. His gaze flickers to the contract, then to you. 

“Well, that’s it. Guess I’m officially a V.League and National Team player. Just gotta call my new agent to send this in.”

You grin, squeezing his hand again. “Damn right you are, my love.”

He clicks his tongue but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, watching you with something unreadable in his crimson eyes. “You’re really okay with this?”

You roll your eyes. “My love, if you ask me that one more time—”

“I’m just sayin’, babe.” he interrupts, lips twitching. “I know you get all sentimental about stuff. Wouldn’t want you crying during your graduation ‘cause your favorite person isn’t there.”

You scoff. “Oh, please. I’ll be too busy collecting my diploma and looking hot in my graduation photos.”

He smirks. “Damn right you will, babe. I look forward to the pictures!”

“I’ll be there for your graduation, though, my love.” You smiled at him. “We’ll take pictures there together.”

“Oh, we better. I’m showing off my hot, beautiful, fantastic, girlfriend—”

“Okay, okay.”  You laugh, but there’s a brief pause after. 

A quiet moment where you both let the reality sink in. He’s really doing this, after all this time, after all his hard work. You’ve always known Ryomen Sukuna was meant for something bigger, you always knew he was born to be a star, to be the very best. 

You’ve seen everything behind the scenes, you’ve known why he got here. You’ve seen him fight, sweat, and bleed for this sport. And now, the world is finally catching up to what you’ve always known all this time. Ryomen Sukuna is a star, he always was. And still, a small, selfish part of you wishes time could slow down. Just for a little while.

Your boyfriend Sukuna seems to read your thoughts because his smirk softens, and he tugs you closer to him by the wrist, until you’re standing between his legs as he leans back against the counter. 

“I’ll make it up to you, babe.” he says, voice quieter now. “After the first game, we’ll do something. Or—hell, I dunno, I’ll send you something on the day.  What do you think? You like flowers, right?”

Your heart does a stupid little flip. “Are you actually offering to buy me flowers?”

He shrugs. “What, you want chocolates instead?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No, it’s just—you’re bad at this.”

He scowls. “At what?”

“Being sweet.”

He groans, head tipping back. “See? This is why I don’t try.”

You grin, wrapping your arms around his neck, ignoring the way he grumbles. “It’s cute.”

“Tch.” He flicks your forehead. “You’re annoying.”

“You love me, don’t you, my love?”

Sukuna doesn’t respond immediately, just exhales against your shoulder before resting his forehead against yours. When he speaks again, it’s low, meant just for you. “Yeah.” he mutters. “I do.”

You close your eyes, smiling. “I do too.”

He smiles softly. “Good.”

This was what mattered, that was for sure. No matter how far he went, how many games he played, how many trophies he won. At the end of the day, it was still just the two of you, tangled up in each other’s worlds, refusing to let go. And that would never change.

══════════════════

YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE WORN HEELS FOR TODAY. It was so impractical thinking about wearing this at all while running around like this, trying to make it to the game. No one would have even noticed you wearing sneakers. You huffed and choked as you made a mad dash through the arena like your life depended on it. You need to make it, you need to get there as soon as possible.

The second your graduation ceremony ends, you don’t waste a single second. You didn’t want to. No mingling, no pictures, no celebratory speeches—just a quick thank you! to your professors and a half-hearted wave to your friends before you’re bolting out of the auditorium. Your graduation cap nearly flies off your head as you sprint toward the exit, shoving your diploma into your bag with one hand and hailing a taxi with the other.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, several messages from your friends asking where you disappeared to, one from your family reminding you about dinner, and a single unread message from Sukuna from earlier that morning.

"Don’t stress about missing it. Go enjoy your day."

Yeah, right. Like you’d ever miss this.

The taxi ride feels endless, traffic dragging on at every red light, and you’re bouncing your leg the entire way. You check the time over and over again, your eyes shaking as you impatiently wished the taxi would just move now. 

Shit. Shit. I gotta make it, I need to make it! You were cutting it close. Your Sukuna’s first official game as a professional volleyball player was about to start, and you refused to be late.

By the time you arrive at the arena, you barely have time to breathe before you’re dashing toward the entrance. People are flooding into the venue, decked out in the merch of the Tokyo Great Bears, holding bright big banners and chanting names of players. It’s loud, it’s packed, and you’re still in your damn graduation gown as you push through the crowd.

A security guard eyes you weirdly when you hand over your ticket. “Uh, congrats?” he says, clearly unsure why someone in a full graduation outfit is here. “Your seat is there.”

“Thanks.” you wheeze, gripping your ticket like a lifeline as you rush inside.

The arena is absolutely massive. The energy is bright and loud and electric. You can feel the anticipation buzzing in the air. Thousands of fans are already seated all across the arena, the voice of the announcers echoing through the speakers as they continue hyping up the game as the players warm up on the court.

And then—you see him.

Ryomen Sukuna, standing on the polished court in his official Tokyo Great Bears uniform, looking completely in his element. His jersey is crisp, the number eight proudly on his back in bold, just down his last name. Your heart skips a beat. He chose eight because you’ve been together for eight years and eight looks like forever, that’s what he told you. 

You take a moment to enjoy your boyfriend’s beauty, as much as your love for him bellows through with you. But rather quickly, you noticed that his signature smirk is nowhere to be found. Instead, it was replaced with something sharper, deadlier. He’s focused on this and only this right now. He’s locked in.

Your heart swells with pride.

This is what he was meant to do.

The people around you start whispering, probably wondering why a random person in a graduation gown is sitting in the middle of the arena like this, but you don’t care. You’re here. That’s all that matters.  

Soon enough, the whistle blows. 

The teams take their positions.

Sukuna steps up for the first serve, rolling his shoulders before tossing the ball into the air. You barely register the countdown, the way the crowd is holding its breath, the announcer hyping up the moment. And almost all the sudden, you forget that he was too focused. 

Because you’re already excitedly screaming his name.

“RYOMEN SUKUNA, NUMBER 8!”

It’s so loud, so unexpected, that a few people near you flinch. Some fans turn to look at you, half amused, half impressed. And down on the court, just for a split second. Ryomen Sukuna hesitates.

You swear he heard you over the roaring crowd because his shoulders tense, and as he follows through with the serve, you catch it—the tiniest smirk curling at the edge of his lips. Your chest fills with pride as you see it.

You made it. You weren’t in the front row. You weren’t in a VIP box. But you were here, watching him chase his dream, just like you always said you would. You are watching him become what he had always worked so hard for. That was all that matters.

Ryomen Sukuna’s serve slams heavily into the opposing court with ridiculous force. The crowd erupts all at once as Sukuna’s serve lands with brutal precision, an absolute missile that leaves the opposing team scrambling.

The scoreboard flashes—1-0, Tokyo Great Bears.

You barely hear the announcer hyping up the play over the deafening cheers, but all you can focus on is Sukuna. He barely reacts to the point, just shaking out his arm as he moves into position for the next play. But as he turns slightly, his sharp eyes scan the stands, just for a split second. And then, he finds you.

Even from across the arena, his scarlet gaze locks onto your own. You know that look in his eyes. It’s the same one he gives you before a game, before a serve, before a moment where he knows he’s about to own the court. Your heart stutters.

You grin, raising your arms and waving wildly. You probably look insane, still dressed in your graduation gown, jumping in your seat like an excited idiot. But the corner of Sukuna’s mouth twitches, his version of a full-blown reaction in the middle of a game. He saw you. He knows you’re here.

Then, just as quickly, he turns back to the match, focusing razor-sharp once more. The next serve comes, the rally starts, and you’re glued to the game. You knew Sukuna was good, so ridiculously good. But seeing him on the national stage, playing against pros, dominating the court like he was born for this? It was something else.

Every spike, every block, every calculated movement. He played like a monster. Like nothing could stop him. The crowd was eating it up. Every time he scored a point, you could hear his name being chanted. Fans were cheering for him, shouting about how insane his plays were, about how this rookie is already terrifying.

You beam with pride. And then, during a timeout, as the team huddles near the bench, you see it. Sukuna, grabbing his water bottle, listening to the coach’s words, before his gaze flicks up to the stands again. To you.

You don’t even think. You just cup your hands around your mouth and yell. “SU-KU-NA! YOU’RE A BEAST!”

A few people around you snicker, but your boyfriend Sukuna just raises a brow before shaking his head, exhaling like he can’t believe you right now. But he’s smirking. Fully smirking. 

Then, as if just to show off, he mouths back at you. "Obviously."

You laugh so hard, you nearly fall out of your seat.

The game resumes, the intensity ramps up, and the Tokyo Great Bears dominate. Every time Sukuna touches the ball, it’s like he’s playing in his own league. The entire team is incredible, but he’s making his presence known, playing with the kind of skill and confidence that makes you certain. This is only the beginning of his reign.

And when the final point is scored, sealing their victory, the entire stadium erupts into cheers.

The Great Bears win.

You’re on your feet almost instantly, screaming so loud your throat hurts. You don’t care about that. You yell his name again, waving like a lunatic, watching as Ryomen Sukuna stands in the middle of the court, surrounded by his teammates, soaking in his first official pro win.

Then, as his teammates pat his back, as the cameras flash around him, as the celebrations continue. His eyes find you one last time. And this time, there’s no teasing, no cocky remark. Just a single, small nod. A quiet acknowledgement.

You came.

And you nod back, smiling.

Because of course you did.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket a little while later. When you pull it out, a single message from Sukuna lights up your screen: "Meet me outside. Give me 5."

Your stomach flips. You practically shove your way through the crowd, ignoring the weird looks from people still noticing that, yes, you’re still in your graduation gown. By the time you reach the arena exit, you’re bouncing on your heels, adrenaline still pumping through your veins.

And then, finally, Sukuna steps out.

His hair is profusely damp from sweat, jersey clinging to his frame, still riding the high of the game. But the moment his eyes land on you, something shifts. His expression softens. Just a little, just enough that you notice. He barely gets a word out before you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You killed it out there!” you exclaim, grinning against his shoulder. “That was insane, my love!”

Sukuna snorts, arms looping around your waist as he effortlessly lifts you off the ground for a second before setting you back down. “Tch. You’re so dramatic, babe.”

You pull back just enough to look at him. “And you are literally him.”

He raises a brow. “Him?”

“Yes, HIM. Like, the moment, the legend, the pro player who just made his official debut and carried the entire game on his back.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes, but you see the way the corner of his mouth twitches. “Didn’t carry that hard, babe. I’m still a newbie.”

“Shut up, you definitely did.”

He scoffs, but then his gaze drops, scanning your outfit. “…You really came straight from graduation?”

You blink, looking down at yourself like you just now realized you’re still wearing your gown. “Uh. Yeah?”

Sukuna just stares at you, lips pressing into a thin line, and for a second, you think he’s about to scold you for skipping out on your big moment. But then, to your utter shock, he reaches out, grabbing the edge of your graduation cap. He tugs it off your head and twirls it in his fingers, inspecting it like it’s some foreign object before finally giving you a look.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” he mutters, but it’s so fond that your heart damn near bursts.

You grin. “But I’m your idiot.”

Sukuna huffs out a laugh, shaking his head before handing you back your cap. And then, in the quiet space between you, his voice drops just a little. “…Thanks for coming.”

You don’t tease him for it. You just nudge his side, your smile softer this time. “Like I’d miss this big moment, my love.”

He holds your stare for a moment longer, something unspoken passing between you. Then, clearing his throat, he glances away. “So, are you hungry or what? I need, like, ten thousand calories after that game.”

You laugh, slipping your hand into his. “I know a place.”

And with that, you walk off together, the roaring stadium behind you, the future bright ahead.

══════════════════

epilogue

The brightly lit restaurant buzzes with laughter, the smell of grilled meat and fresh drinks filling the air as you and Sukuna settle into the booth with the rest of the group. Tonight was a double celebration for all of you — your graduation and Sukuna’s ridiculously successful pro debut.

Gojo raises his glass first, grinning like he’s been waiting for this moment all night. “To our favorite rookie phenom and our beloved valedictorian!”

Everyone clinks their glasses together, cheers ringing out, and you bask in the warmth of the moment. Sukuna, on the other hand, just grumbles, “Don’t make it weird.” before taking a long sip of his drink.

But Geto? Oh, Geto is on a mission.

“So, Sukuna…” he hums, scrolling through his phone with a concerning amount of interest. “Did you know your fans have a lot to say about you?”

Sukuna freezes mid-bite, narrowing his eyes. “What?”

“Ohhh, bro.” Gojo cackles, practically vibrating with excitement as he leans over Geto’s shoulder. “You haven’t seen these yet?”

You perk up instantly, curiosity piqued. “Wait, wait, what are they saying?”

Megumi, already tired of all of this, merely sighs. “Do we have to do this?”

“Yes, we do.” Yuuji says immediately, shoving more food into his mouth while watching like this was the best show of his life. “Geto–senpai, get it on!”

Geto clears his throat dramatically. “‘Ryomen Sukuna’s debut was INSANE. The way he moves? The power in his spikes? The confidence??? Absolute KING behavior.’”

Sukuna shrugs, smirking. “Obviously.”

Gojo pats his shoulder. “Congrats, you’re a king.”

Then Geto snickers and continues reading. “‘Also, did anyone see that person in the graduation gown losing their mind in the stands? Cause same, bestie. That energy was UNMATCHED.’”

You gasp. “Wait, they saw me?!”

“They definitely saw you, senpai.” Geto laughs, scrolling further. “Oh, here’s a great one. ‘SUKUNA HAS A NUMBER ONE FAN AND IT’S HIS GIRLFRIEND??? SHE EVEN DITCHED GRADUATION CELEBRATION TO SEE HIM??? IMAGINE HAVING THAT KIND OF DEVOTION.’”

Sukuna groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“Oh, we’re just getting started, captain.” Gojo says gleefully, leaning in. “‘Sukuna is literally a loverboy. The fact that he kept looking for his girl in the crowd??? The way he lowkey smirked when he saw them?? I am sick. Love is real, y’all.’”

Silence.

Then, you burst out laughing. 

Absolutely cackling.

Sukuna looks at you betrayed. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“You’re—you’re trending as Loverboy Sukuna.” you wheeze, clutching your stomach. “Oh this is better than my love, actually.”

“I hate all of you.” Sukuna mutters, stabbing at his food aggressively while his ears burn red.

“Oh, oh, here’s another one.” Geto continues, barely holding back his laughter. “‘Sukuna plays like a beast but has the biggest heart eyes for his lover. Man’s out there dominating while also making sure his personal cheerleader is watching. A man in love. We love to see it.’”

Gojo wipes a fake tear. “It’s just so beautiful.”

Nanami, who has been silently eating the whole time, finally sighs and says. “I warned you all about this.”

Megumi is shaking his head like he wants to be anywhere else, and Yuuji? Yuuji looks proud. “Man, I wanna find love like that. Captain, can I date your sister?”

Sukuna glares at him, harshly. “Shut up, brat.”

You lean into Sukuna’s side, still giggling. “It’s cute, my love. They’re just saying what we all know. You’re soft for me.”

Sukuna scoffs, crossing his arms. “The internet doesn’t know shit.”

“Oh? Then what’s this?” Gojo grins and holds up his phone. It’s a picture someone took from the game, posted on Instagram by his fans. A moment you hadn’t even realized was captured.

It’s Sukuna, standing on the court, sweat-slick and focused. But what makes the photo perfect?

The small, barely-there smirk he had when he spotted you in the crowd.

Sukuna stares at the image like it personally offends him. “Delete it.”

“Oh, buddy.” Geto smirks. “It’s on the internet forever.”

“Gojo, send me that picture right now!” You say, pulling out your phone. “Need to make it my screen saver.”

“Roger, roger, senpai!”

“Oi, Gojo!” Sukuna barks. “Don’t send it to her, goddamn it!”

You snuggle closer to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek just to tease him further. “But I want it, my loverboy.”

Sukuna groans. “I’m leaving.”

Gojo, Geto, and Yuuji lose it as you laugh, tightening your grip on his arm so he can’t actually go anywhere. Megumi and Nanami shakes his head, but smiles at this. Yeah. This was the perfect way to celebrate.

[cry4mina]

Take Me Back To Eden - Are You Really Okay? - Part 6.5

(Mina x gn!reader)

Take Me Back To Eden Series Page

Word Count: 7k

Angst/Fluff/I don’t know what to call this

Summary: This takes place at the end of place after reader passes out in Part 6! Please read that for context! This is also in FIRST PERSON (gasp!) from Mina’s perspective! See what Mina sees at the end of *THE* scene and some of the consequences of Nayeon’s actions.

TW: Guns, violence, abuse, sex/mentions of sex, medical stuff and lemme know if I miss anything! (I so did)

A/N: We are experimenting a little bit on this one with first person pov! Thank you to @2wiceasnice9 for making these gifs for this! I appreciate it very much 🖤

Thank you guys for reading as always! Ask/Dms always open! 🖤 Love yall, have a great day!

—

“Nayeon, you can’t do this!” Oh my god, she’s really going to shoot me. Y/n is on the floor bleeding out right in front of both of us and she’s going to fucking shoot me?!

Panic ices my veins as Nayeon opens her mouth to reply. Tears are filling my eyes and I can’t seem to blink them away fast enough. I hear Nayeon hit the floor, shouting out and the gun skidding out of sight.

Nayeon’s rage is heard but no longer seen, the sounds of struggling bouncing off the walls from behind the desk. Hearing Y/n’s grunts of pain make me nauseous and panicky. A hefty sinking feeling that weighs me down, physically trying to slow me while I come up with a plan to stop everything around me.

If I want to put a stop to this, I need that gun.

Now.

Seeing a glint from the metal on the edge of the room against a baseboard, I race over to pick it up.

In my race to turn around I see Y/n getting the shit beat out of them on the ground. Nayeon gets up, scanning the floor to try and find the gun that was already in my hands.

I don’t want to do this! God, I really don’t want to fucking do this! Deep breath in, exhale slowly, finger around the trigger and…

The shot louder than any sound I’ve ever heard, reverberating the ache in my heart harder as the scene before me unfolds in slow motion and deafening silence. Nayeon mouth opens and face turns red, reflecting anguish when her knees hit the floor. She coddles her abdomen, mask contorting from hatred, to pain in the blink of an eye.

I drop the gun and immediately run over to Y/n. She’s bleeding all over the floor, I cup the back of her head to try and halt the loss of her life force but I’m so worried it’s already been too much spilled, the puddle of blood growing larger with passing seconds.

Y/n is so disoriented, I can barely catch her attention. Pulling her head into my lap, trying to talk to her to keep her here but she keeps looking at me with fluttering eyes. I can’t even hear my own voice, crying out for her without even an echo in my head.

I can’t hold myself together anymore, my tears start to fall endlessly down my cheeks. I can’t lose her. Even in such a short time, I’ve grown to truly care for this human that lays in my lap, bruised and bloodied.

The look of hope beaming through her eyes in an attempt to focus on me. My heart cracks just a little more. Someone had to have heard the gunshots. Someone had to call for help, right?

“Y/n! Y/n! Look at me, it’s going to be okay! We are going to get you ou-”

A heavy jolt of pressure slams into my chest.

Air ripped from my lungs at a pace that’s indescribable.

Unable to even hear my heart beating in this deafening silence, my eyes water and my breathing tries to regulate but hyperventilating was the only response my body had.

I look up and see Nayeon with her hand over her wound, slouched in the corner of the room with the gun pointed right at me.

At…me?

Y/N’s body starts to vibrate in my arms, I look down for a split second to see them screaming in agony. The thick crimson liquid drips down my torso rapidly when it registers what’s happened. That’s where the burn starts. A stinging, fiery, gut wrenching blaze of panic that drench the tension in something that can only be explained as pure terror. Nausea and sweat are immediate following the outpour of blood.

My breathing picks up rapidly, my body finally catching up with my brain and trying to save itself. I keep my hand on the back of Y/n’s head, and bring my other up to cover my own wound. Watching as Nayeon keeps her eyes on the scene unfolding, a grimace on her face when Y/n passes out in my arms.

“Mina, you should be happy!” mockingly loud, spat at me through the ringing of my ears.

“At least she won’t have to watch you suffer!” Nayeon brings the gun back up, pointing it right in my line of sight before her head swings to her right and she locks eyes with something behind me.

Nayeon’s eyes widened at the door that’s violently flying open. My hearing fades slowly back in. Turning my head towards whatever Nayeon was looking at, Jihyo storms in and is yelling and aggressively flailing her arms.

Jihyo?

What is she doing here?!

Confusion sets in, the blood spills from my chest, and it’s getting harder to breathe.

Jihyo continues to point when she looks over and sees the state of Y/N and I. Her eyes widened with pure terror and rage, storming over to Nayeon and attempting to grab the gun from her. Nayeon points the gun at Jihyo and kicks her legs out weakly, trying to keep Jihyo away from her.

“I don’t want to shoot you, Hyo! Baby, please!” Faintly heard through the ringing of my eardrums trying to reset.

“LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE, NAYEON! The police are already on their way, I told them everything about your plan!” Jihyo snatches the gun from her. She’s absolutely bawling her eyes out in disgust at how far Nayeon was willing to go.

My vision starts to blur leaving light trails behind every thing that moves. Nayeon stands and lunges at Jihyo, throwing punches and kicking her, trying to reach for the gun again.

“Why would you FUCKING tell them?! I thought you were loyal! I thought you loved me!” Nayeon screeches in a fit of rage, mustering every ounce of energy she can to wrestle Jihyo to the ground.

My body starts swaying back and forth. I'm losing the will to stay awake. I look down at Y/n, passed out in my arms. Her breathing is shallow.

I have to keep my eyes open for her.

I start coughing harshly, tasting the blood that is spewing out of my mouth, coating my tongue in an iron laced flavor. The taste of defeat is present in the moment, if I’m coughing blood…that mean that the bullet is probably in my lung…I’m going to drown if I don’t pass out from the blood loss first.

I’m trying my best to keep pressure on my chest and on the back of Y/n’s head but my strength is wavering far too much to be successful in both.

A warm hand on my back that has a sense of urgency startles me. Attempting to focus, I look up to see Momo bawling her eyes out next to me. Her hand flies over mine to put more pressure on my bullet wound.

Momo is trying to understand everything happening around us, eyes frantically trying to absorb everything one by one. The bullet hole in my chest, Jihyo and Nayeon fighting it out on the floor, Y/n’s bloodied state, and then right back to her hands, that are now covered in my blood.

“How did you know we were here?” I choke out between shallow, hoarse breaths.

“Jihyo called me on her way here. I was on the phone with her when I heard the first shot.”

My head feels too heavy to hold up. I slouch a little, swaying and trying to keep my eyes open and the pressure tight when a loud smack startles me and Momo both.

Both of us looked up immediately to see Jihyo shaking her hand in pain, knuckles bloodied, and Nayeon trying to stand back up but struggling to stand on her own two feet.

Nayeon tackles Jihyo to the floor again, large hands around her neck, tensely squeezing our leader's throat. Jihyo is trying everything in her power to pry Nayeon’s fingers off her throat, gasping and tugging at her digits, trying to hit Nayeon but nothing would remove her.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I couldn’t end up with you. You just aren’t Y/n.” Nayeon hisses above Jihyo before lifting her head by her neck and slamming it into the ground.

Momo stands up to try and come to Jihyo’s defense, ready to defend her and help her get Nayeon subdued until the police arrived.

A bang shatters every reality between what should have happened and what did happen.

Colors wash out of my sight when I see how Momo freezes in front of me, unmoving in a statuesque fashion, breath being held in a death grip.

I call out to her, barely hearing my own voice when her body shudders, turning away and bringing her attention back to me and y/n. I can see and hear her sobs in whispers and grey wash.

Looking over to where the struggle happened, Jihyo is still laying flat on her back sobbing with Nayeon on top of her, too still for comfort.

“Momo…what happened?” I squeak out.

Her eyes are lifeless. Someone who has just witnessed something horrific squatted before me, hands shaking, struggling to apply pressure to my chest and unable to look me in the eyes.

“Why did you do this?…why?” Jihyo cries out through sniffles and rage filled tears.

The clunking sound of someone rolling into the floor catches me off guard, watching Jihyo stand. She’s drenched in blood and making her way over to me.

“Momo…” I croaked with the last bit of my energy, when my vision started to fade to black.

“Stop…Y/n’s blee-…”

The last thing I felt was my back hitting the floor and coldness.

—

Everything is hazy and unfamiliar for a moment, lucidity is not something my brain feels like it’s familiar with. I can’t tell if my eyes are closed but I feel cold. Prickling in my skin does nothing but annoy as a rush of chemicals tells my body it’s okay to be okay.

It’s going to be okay, right?

The burning sensation I can’t quite pinpoint eases rapidly after the sharp stick in the divot of my arm. The voices I hear are unfamiliar, except one. The tone brings comfort, but I couldn’t tell you who it was or what they are to me. All I know is this clouded darkness behind my eyes.

I fall into what feels like sleep. Calm, quiet, almost nurturing in the way of comfort. It envelops me completely. What a joy to feel something other than fear and pain.

Just calm.

I hope she’s okay.

A loud slam of something metal around me brings me into a state of conscience that I have never felt, shifting me into something recognizable and familiar. The darkness in my eye lids slowly fades into warm lighting, laughter and playfulness is heard through out the room I find myself in.

I’m at Jihyo’s house?

How did I get here?

“Oh my GOD! Baby, what are you doing here?!” Nayeon screams and runs out the front door.

Baby?…What is happening?

Y/n and Nayeon walk in, hand in hand. Smiling at each other and everyone is running over to meet the girl that Nayeon has been gushing about. I feel a pang of jealousy in my stomach. Y/n would never do this to me, after what Nayeon did.

Trying to stand to confront them both, I can’t force my body to move.

Wait…

This is the party where we met for the first time.

One of my favorite memories.

She’s sitting there quietly and I just can’t help but watch her take everything in. Her energy is so warm. So peaceful.

I mirror her, silently taking her in, watching her body language, watching how she is with the other members. Politely listening to others speak about their individual interests. I see her eyes shift to me.

“Mina, I know we actually have some hobbies in common! You like legos and video games too, right? Minecraft is what Nayeon told me.” quizzically from across the way.

I can’t believe this is who Nayeon was with. This is not what I pictured at all. Usually she dates obsessive fangirls that she can use and throw away when she’s done, but this person she has just introduced us all to…was nothing like that. She was kind, considerate, very good looking, and someone who brought life into a conversation.

The first of a few conversations, usually that she started. I was always too nervous to speak to her without her prompting it, though I desperately wanted to. I was and am so fascinated and intrigued by the fluttering in my stomach with every word spoken in that angelic voice.

Faces start distorting when I come to the conclusion that this must be a dream.

I must be dreaming.

The walls drop and everything snaps to darkness. My legs whisking me forward trying to find some sense of direction when I blink, I’m in a hallway? Where am I? And then I see her.

Walking down the same hallway laced in gray paint, the embodiment of sunshine, the light in this monotone building. Y/n walks right past me and offers up a small smile. A soft “Hey Mina. It’s so good to see you.” And a somber wave in my direction, the gentle tears streaming down her cheeks, I remember this…

The corridor zips out from underneath me, shrinking in the distant void to a mere sparkle. I’m alone in the darkness again. Why did I just hop from a memory to another memory…?

The sound of yelling brings be to another familiar place. Half warm, half ice. The energy here was a weird sense of home, comfortably uncomfortable.

I’m at Y/n and Nayeon’s apartment…the girls are in the living room but Nayeon and Y/n are nowhere to be seen. The music is just loud enough to muffle the shouting in the other room but I’m close enough to the door to hear it.

“Fine! Do whatever you want, Nayeon!”

“What do you mean? You’re supposed to come with us!”

“I don’t want to be around you, so you go! Do whatever you want, you’re going to anyway!”

The door opens, Nayeon steps out and I see Y/n hunched over in a chair with her head in her hands, body shivering, obviously holding back sobs. Nayeon closes the door quickly to avoid the detection of the fight.

Making eye contact with me as she spins around, I smile at her and pretend I didn’t see. Y/n needs her right now, and she’s just going to leave with us? What kind of a partner are you?

The sound of her cracking open a beer can throws me forward, through a sliding glass door.

I’m on a balcony? I can hear the girls inside laughing and having a good time. A sniffle rings out against the laughter in a contrast that makes my stomach sink.

Looking to my left, I see Y/n sitting with her back against the wall, curled into herself, elbows resting on her knees and hands covering her obviously crying face.

My heart breaks in that moment, in a way it didn’t the first time. In a way I didn’t know was possible. Just as I did in the memory, I sit next to her in silence. The memory wouldn’t allow me to change it’s already pathed out course, this moment I would never change.

She looks up at me when our shoulders touch, eyes red and swollen.

“Oh! Mina…Hey!. Sorry, I’m okay. Just…uh…having a bad day.” through the tears that descend down her soft cheeks.

“Are you really okay?” I wish I could say more. I know she’s not okay. I’ve known for a while but it’s not my place to tell this person I barely knew to leave her partner. It seems like Nayeon has manipulated Y/n into thinking that what was happening between them was healthy.

Super sweet love bombing.

Calm conversations with carefully chosen words to belittle, betray, and knock down.

Nayeon’s perfectly crafted nightmare of subtle abuse was so laced in other tastes that it was almost impossible to spot from any perspective, you had to be paying attention very very closely to see it. It makes sense why she lost her mind when she did. The plan falls apart when the object of your manipulation realizes they have free will, or you get too sloppy and they flat out leave.

She stops moving, frozen in the question. The pain behind her eyes sears my heart in ways unexplainable. How I wish I could take that pain away from her.

Y/n leans her head on my shoulder, tears stop falling momentarily. Her body relaxes in a way I was unfamiliar with before…was she always this comfortable around me?

A knock on the slider blends with the sound of something being thrown across the room that materialized right in front of me.

Suddenly, I’m in Japan for our group interview, walking in on Jihyo and Nayeon having a very heated conversation.

“What am I supposed to do? If the public finds out…the company will have a fit!” Nayeon is in tears, fists bawled and red in the face. Jihyo is holding her, rubbing her back in a soothing manner. Her hand glides up Nayeon’s spine in a very…intimate…way.

“Don’t worry, honey.” swiping a tear gently off Nayeon’s cheek, the loving look in her eyes was something I’d never seen them share. I had never seen Jihyo react this way to anyone’s tears like that, not even Sana.

“We can figure it out, okay? We can make a plan for when Y/n and you talk and keep our story strai- Hey, Mina!” Jihyo jumps back from Nayeon, seemingly nervous about what I’ve seen.

“…is everything okay?”

“Yes, Nayeon and Y/n got into a fight…they’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” Jihyo assured me, though at the time, I didn’t know what I was hearing in that conversation. Nayeon’s glare at me was enough to speak volumes.

She must’ve always known my fascination with Y/n.

“Alright girls, I’ve got a plane to catch back home…are you going to be okay, hon- I mean unnie?”

A freudian slip.

“Honey.” said out loud, just like when I heard it for the first time and again, without my own free will.

Nayeon scowls at me, Jihyo is shocked I said anything and I’m not so confused about what was happening here anymore. At the time I had not realized how close they were, or what was transpiring between them. I can still hardly believe it, even with proof.

The sound of footsteps towards me sends me to memory, turning into my own steps while I pace on the phone with Momo, talking about how Nayeon and Y/n have broken up and what Nayeon did to her.

The upset that all the information she is telling me over the speaker floods me with upset. A rage unseen by most, even hearing it a second time causes me to seethe. An innocent person, broken by the hands of someone unworthy.

Little did I know how broken she would actually get. I thought maybe I could help put the pieces back together, I never imagined it would turn into what it did…

“Hey, Momo, will you send me Y/n’s number? I’d like to check on her.” I still feel the nervousness behind the question along with the cheerfulness of seeing her again.

Even if this broken record moment in my brain is just a figment, it’s making me feel the same way, almost layered in a sense. The before feeling, and the after feeling.

If you really think about it, memories are just mental photobooks. Bottles of feelings and images contained for when you hear a sound, smell something familiar, or are around a specific person that makes your heart scream in agony at the sheer amount of love that seeps into every orifice you have when in their presence.

I am simply living in them.

“Sure, I’m sure she would love to hear from you, Mina.” replied when the phone in my hand vibrates. The text Momo sent has a contact labeled “Y/nnie” I can’t help but chuckle at the cute nickname again. I watch myself, from my own eyes, save it and not change the name.

I hesitate to call, the worry of if she would agree to hang out with me sits on my stomach again. I can do this, I know I can…Okay okay, here we go.

Reliving the excited feeling of calling her for the first time was less excruciating this time, the phone ringing until I heard her yell through the speaker.

“Can you stop calling me? I obviously don’t want to talk to you.” the tone heavy with annoyance, I remember thinking this was a bad time to call.

“..Y/n?” the hesitation when she realizes that I wasn’t the person she assumed I was adorable. Small notes of confusion in her silence was something I wish I could have witnessed sooner.

“Oh…uhm, sorry…I thought this was Jihyo. I don’t have this number saved in my phone…”

“That’s alright” I giggled, feeling a little awkward just as I remember.

“It’s Mina.”

“Mina?”the shock in her voice was noticeable, voice pitched up, and I could visualize her brows furrowing.

“Momo told me what happened and I asked for your number… I hope that’s okay.” the sounds of the call change drastically, going from crystal clear to a little hazy and to the sound of squeaky brakes.

“Yes, that’s totally fine…uhm, sorry, I’m…a little all over the place right now.”

“I know we don’t really know each other too well but…uhm, I know we have some common interests and that you could probably use a friend right now…so I figured I would call and see if you wanted to get a coffee or something…or maybe just sit on the couch and play videogames or…  something.” I really should’ve thought about what I was going to say before I called her.

“That sounds…really nice. I’d love to. Would you…want to text me your schedule for the next week or two and we can plan it from there?” My heart flutters again when I hear the sound of her smile beaming through the phone.

“Sounds good, I’ll text you.” hanging up before I got too giggly on the phone. I wasn’t trying to be weird about it to her…I just wanted to get to know her and be around her warmth again.

The sound of my phone locking sends me to her front door, 2 coffees in hand. A deep breath before the door opens. I was so nervous to see her and a little worried about the anxiety that she had been feeling.

The crack of the door ushers me inside and I offer her the coffee she didn’t ask for. We curl up on separate couches and play video games together and just talk.

We have intellectual conversations about almost every topic we stumble upon, I see her back unclenching as the day goes on and I know that we both need to eat.

Heading to the Japanese cafe that was so close by we could walk, our hands brush against each other. To feel that all over again ethereal. Bursts of adrenaline, the flashes of cold, the fluttering of the butterflies, the way it ignited something in me. I was meant to hold that hand.

“These shops seem cool, maybe we should come back another day and explore them.” My ears are burning at the question and the overwhelming tension I feel inside myself about her. I do hope we can go back to those shops someday.

We ordered sake and I asked her if I could order food for her. Paying attention to what she said when we spoke earlier when I was describing the food my mother makes, it seemed like it would be a fun idea.

I ordered the food in Japanese so the meal would be a surprise when it arrived at the table. The way she looked at me when I did was absolutely adorable, seemingly nervous now- scratching the sides of her fingers.

Reaching my hand out, I lay it on hers. Her shoulders relax and her jaw unclenches, our eyes are locked and I’m swooning. Even in a nervous state, this celestial being in front of me was devastating to my heart.

The way the emotions flickered in her eyes and on her face were telling of the last person who held this hand and the damage she left behind.

I touched her without permission, my hand retracted rapidly as I apologized. The food arrives in the middle of her trying to tell me why she reacted the way she did, cutting off the conversation all together.

She notices the similarities in our plates, asking me if we got the same thing. I tell her I remembered the little details from what she used to eat when she came to the studio, so I took off what she didn’t like and had them rearrange things.

She tells me the entire story of what happened with Nayeon over the food that night. I still can’t fathom the type of human that could hurt someone so tender.

The clinking of the plates after we finish our meal puts me in the cafe, paying for the bill. I thanked the lady at the podium and turn to walk out the front door when I see them.

Nayeon is outside with Jihyo, trying to throw herself at Y/n, what the hell is she doing here? I get so angry thinking about the pain that she’s gone through and with a little liquid courage from the sake, I take my stance next to Y/n and grab her hand.

“Are you ready to go, my love?” I make sure to raise my voice a little so that Nayeon and Jihyo can hear what I’ve said. I refuse to let her try to bully Y/n into submission. There will be no opportunities for that, at least not with me around.

“You can’t be serious right now, Y/n! After last night, are you on a date with Mina? A member of my group? Do you not have your own friends to filter through? Did I not satiate you enough? …Maybe we should’ve gone one more round.”

Nayeon is absolutely floored, so mad that she’s here with me. Seeing it all play back in my mind's eye, I should’ve noticed the signs. I should’ve seen what was going to happen. Maybe I could’ve protected her.

Wait…did she say a date?

I mean…I guess this is a date…I never thought about it like that. I wonder how Y/n felt when Nayeon said that…I know now how she feels about us, but I can’t help but wonder what was going through her head while we were here.

Jihyo is silently crying and getting back into the car but I don’t think anyone else notices. While I view her as a huge part of the problem, I can’t help but feel bad for her. Look at her standing there so uncomfortable she can barely even function.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her from now since you can’t satiate her, apparently.” I wink at Nayeon and lead Y/n away from this mess.

A sneeze places me on Y/n’s couch with her wrapped around me, cuddling into me with her hand on my torso. My heart is full like this. I hope to experience more of moments like these with her.

My body jolts from her pushing down on me, gasping for air in a way that’s rushed and eager. She’s immediately up crying and pacing back and forth in the living room. A panic attack happening before my eyes, I spring into action and comfort her the best I can.

Y/n parts from me, stripping her hoodie off so she’s just in a sports bra. I’m attempting to be respectful about not staring at her half naked but having the hardest time with it. I just want to give her everything she deserves.

I catch her by her wrist as she paces, pulling her into my arms and telling her she’s safe. Y/n pulls back, looking me in the eyes from mere inches away. I can feel her breath against me, I just want to lean in and press my lips on hers when she scoots in a little closer to me.

I take this as permission, meeting her in the middle and the lightning that shoots through me is so powerful that all my nerves burn with the essence that is Y/n. Trying to keep things calm but she starts to lean in harder so I take control.

I push her onto the couch and once my hands hit the couch, the glass shatters and we are surrounded by police and clothed again. The police are questioning my poor Y/n. I wish she could catch a break.

The click of the officers pen and I’m taping up the window for her, turning around to see her completely lost in thoughts with glass in her foot.

The snap of the first aid kit brings us back to her bed, where she’s telling me she feels safe and my heart is racing to tell her all the feelings that have built up.

Next thing I know, I’m between her legs tasting the slick off her folds. She’s moaning underneath me and the sound is godly. I just want to devour her but this isn’t the moment. That will come soon enough. Right now, this is about her.

What she wants.

What she needs.

Cumming into my mouth, the sounds are that of angels singing to me and only me in that moment. I wrap my fingers around her throat and squeeze a little just to hear her moan for me again.

Leaning down to kiss her again, when our lips part I’m on the phone with the police.

“Hello, we’ve called to update you on the case that you filed last night. We’ve arrested Park Jihyo. She admitted guilt when confronted about the vandalizing of house.”

“What?” I still can’t believe she would have taken the fall for Nayeon like that.

When I hit end on the phone call, I spin around to Y/n telling me to lay in her lap and I happily do so. There’s so much comfort in her touch, I can’t explain the calm. It’s calmer than the void at the beginning of this weird live action trip down memory lane. I sink into a deep sleep while she plays with my hair.

When my eyes open, I’m on the phone with Momo. At this point, I’m just letting this memory train whisk me away. I’m not going to question why this is happening.

She’s wondering where I am, I remember the banquet and then I’m throwing my shoes on by the front door when Y/n asks me on a date…an official date. I’m consumed with joy. Finally, Ill get to show her what love actually looks like.

When the door shuts behind me, I’m suddenly at Momo’s house getting ready with her and Dahyun.

“Soooo…you and y/n, hm?” Momo pokes at me to get more information.

“Well…I think so. These past 2 days have been…kind of magic? Even with all the crazy stuff that’s been happening with Nayeon.” I want to shout how excited I am from the rooftops but my body won’t allow me to.

“I really hope yo- wait, what did you say?” The confusion on Momo’s face is laced in concern as she stares at me, waiting for me to fill in the blanks.

I tell her everything. The confrontation at the restaurant, the way Nayeon called Y/n that morning, the rock through the window, and lastly Jihyo taking the fall.

Momo and Dahyun both are stunned by this new information, jaws on the floor. I just nod my head at them, trying to not think about the negatives of this because I have a date with Y/n and the closeness we have has made me so smitten.

“Wait…you were with Y/n this morning? I thought you had plans yesterday…?” Dahyun is confused about the story she has just overheard.

“Uhm…yes. She didn’t want to be alone last night so I stayed with her.” I admit quietly, hoping for no further questions. Not that I don’t want to talk about it, but it feels so fresh.

“…did you sleep on the couch? Or?” Dahyun is smiling so big at me that I can’t help but laugh.

Momo doesn’t even try to stop her from asking questions because she’s curious as well, it’s not like Y/n gave her any information while she was on the phone with her.

“I did not sleep on the couch.”

They both gasp at this. They aren’t stupid. They know what happened.

“Wait did you guys have se-”

“I’m going to go call Y/n and see if she’s on her way.” I step out of the room and dial the phone, stepping outside to get some privacy.

When the door clicks behind me, I’m blasted into the memory of her crying in my arms because Nayeon showed up to her apartment and bombarded her, yet again.

I tell her to stay with me tonight after she expresses she doesn’t want to see Nayeon again. Y/n announces she doesn’t want to impose and I just kiss her to shut her up.

I pull on her blazer to keep her close and feel her hands travel up to my neck. I’m going to take her here.

Right here.

I untuck her shirt, run my fingers along the edge of her waistline when the door flings open.

“Hey, Mina did you talk wi- OH?!” Of course, it’s Momo interrupting the moment. How embarrassing.

“Sorry to interrupt! Should I go back inside or?” Dahyun sneaks out behind Momo through the door and shuts it.

The sound of the lock latching sends me to the table we are all sat at, eating dinner and making light conversation. I’m focused on Y/n, who is toying around with her food and not really present in the moment.

Leaning over to her, I make sure to look Y/n in her eyes when I ask her if she’s okay the first time. A small nod of the head, I lean back into my chair, and continue eating my dinner. I know she’s lying, it’s written in the way her eyes are tracing every detail of the table and avoiding mine.

Maybe she just doesn’t know how apparent it is. I take another few bites, leaning in one more time.

“Are you su-”

“I get that we aren’t together but can you stop doing whatever this-” moving her hands around in a dramatic fashion. “- is, in front of me? Kind of rude, don't you think?”

You are kidding me. I can’t believe she just said that in front of everyone. We are not supposed to be the focus tonight.

“Nayeon, not now.” Momo chiming in like she already knew what any sane person would be thinking watching this all play out. More annoyed than I will allow myself to display, especially after knowing what was going to happen after this.

Especially now, knowing exactly what Nayeon was capable of.

“You think she can do for you what I did? You think she can be who you need her to be for you?! WE are supposed to be here together, not you and Mina! Mina, of all people!” body language threatening and almost violent in nature.

Me? Of all people? What the *fuck* does that mean?!

Everyone around us is completely in shock, with the exception of those who knew what Nayeon was, who Nayeon could be. I see some avoidance from a few of the members, not wanting to encourage her or draw attention to the situation.

Reliving this makes me just as enraged as it did the first time.

“I bet she doesn’t fuck like I do or do you need another reminder of how I fuck you?”

Oh, good god. I still can’t believe she said that out loud for everyone at this table and around us to hear. This is not the fucking place for this.

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t want to work on thi-”

“ENOUGH!”

Boom.

I take another bite of my meal, before setting my utensils down. Looking over at my stunning date, making sure to make eye contact. The fury behind my eyes is enough to prompt her to do what I so desperately wanted to.

“Nayeon, why don’t you tell everyone where Jihyo is?” the malice inflected in the statement sends chills down my spine. This assertive dominant part of her that I was meeting in full form for the first time…I was happy she was spending the night at mine.

I feel the way the warmth fills me, starting between my legs and creeping up as she puts this vicious bitch in her place.

“Y/n…I- I don’t know what you mean. H- How should I know?” That’s right. Panic.

“Oh, sure you do!...Weren’t you with her last night?” Everyone is staring at her now, confused and concerned.

“Wait-” Tzuyu starts and then everything is silent. I look around, waiting for the room to change to the memory I know is next.

Everyone around me is frozen in place, unwavering in complete and total stillness. I stand and fix my dress, this is the first time that I have control over my body since this montage of memories started.

Walking towards the room.

The room.

The room where everything happens.

The room where Y/n gets hurt.

The room where I get shot.

The room where Jihyo ends Nayeon’s life…

I step in with no hesitation, before I realize that the entirety of the room is pitch black and there is no floor.

I fall.

Dropping through a tunnel of nothingness, just trying to catch anything that will keep me from descending into this pit of darkness. The void calls and I’ve returned against my will again.

A halt jerks me out of the dissociated state that I found myself in. How long did I fall for? How long have I been in this state?

A small pinhole of light shines through the ether, steadily growing and getting brighter.

Is it getting closer?

“Mina?” An echoed whisper reverberates every bone in my body. Shaking me violently, the void cracks, shining the beams of another realm through the shattering façade around me

“Mina…darling, you have to wake up.”

Y/n?

Dull beeps pipe through the whispers and into my brain. My throat feels hot, why doesn’t my throat feel hot?

“Mina, please…”

The light is blinding now as a vision of my parents shine through, my eyes flutter open and try to focus on their faces when the smell of hospital breaks all my senses.

The tube down my throat keeps me from speaking, my parents are crying in happiness that I’m awake but the tears I cry are of fear.

My eyes search helplessly, unable to communicate what I’m looking for.

Who I am looking for.

My father notices my panic, trying to calm me when the pain starts. The same burn in my chest from earlier. I try to look down at my chest at my wound when the nurse comes in and greets me.

“Mina! Welcome back! Your family missed you!” cheered through a beaming smile.

I start weakly mimicking writing with my hand, looking around the room for someone to understand what I’m asking for.

My father grabs the whiteboard at the end of the bed with my medical information on it, wiping it clean and holding it next to me. He uncaps the marker with his teeth and spits it out onto the floor, wrapping my hand around it so that I can write.

“Mina, we are going to pull the tube from you now to make sure that lung is functioning the way that it’s supposed to, okay?” the nurse chimes in as I’m writing.

The doctor comes in, trying to usher my father to the side so he can do what he needs to. I grip my dad’s forearm to signal him to stay in place.

“Please, she’s been asleep for so long, can you just give us a moment?”

I write the last few letters quickly before the doctors get to work, I watch my parents brows furrow at what I’ve written. My father takes the whiteboard out of the room, my mother staying with me for the remainder of the removal of the tube.

Gasping for air, my body is trying to recalibrate to the new surroundings. To reality.

“Where…” my voice is gravely and horse, barely coming out in a whisper.

“Is…” I swallow, trying to build up my strength to say the last word I needed to.

“Y/n?”

Thanks for reading! 🖤🖤🖤🖤

[readingbcilovecrying]

Introduction & Fic Masterlist

Hi there! I’m Mem (she/they). Haven’t been on tumblr in over a decade, but these are the things I do for Gale brainrot. On that note:

I write fanfic on ao3 under this same name (readingbcilovecrying). The last time I wrote fanfic was more than a decade ago and it was for Naruto (lmao). But now I write BG3 fanfic featuring the wizard man/fem!tav or fem!durge (Gale/Tav & Gale/Durge). I love angst and romance and hurt/comfort and smut and everyone is traumatized always. As they say, write what you know ;)

Below is a list of my currently published fanfics with summaries! Hope you’ll check them out <3

One-shots

Devotion (21k words; explicit)

His agenda has always been clear: to be a different kind of god—a god among people, a god who responds to the ephemeral beings of Faerûn and their needs. And with the help of his friends and trusted advisors, he’s accomplishing exactly that. He has everything, can do anything, and nothing is missing except that which he will soon take.

Or: sometimes, the God of Ambition walks around Baldur’s Gate in a semblance of his human form. On one such walk, he begins to learn that he is very, very wrong about something very, very important.

-

[A very long one-shot directly spurred and heavily inspired by giveon’s beautiful fic “glory to the god of mercy”]

Safeguarding (9k words; explicit; pt. 1 wizard foreplay series)

Tav already likes that Gale casts Mage Armor on her at the start of each day. Loves it, actually.

…She’d still like to know the full reason *why* though. And, once the moment arrives, Gale is happy to explain himself—along with a few other things.

—

Or: in a slightly altered timeline where Gale and Tav fall in very horny, very intense love right away, they struggle with the possibilities of the Crown of Karsus. And the future after the Elderbrain. (And Tav really just wants to fuck her wizard in PEACE!)

Beloved - (7k; explicit; pt. 2 wizard foreplay series)

It is their first Simril together.

It has been three months since they defeated the Netherbrain. It has been three months and a day since Shadowheart married them on the eve of Enver Gortash’s death.

And Tav is three and a half months pregnant.

To The Point of Invention - (13k; explicit; pt. 3 wizard foreplay series)

He’s concerned. It’s just how Gale is. He loves her and their growing child, so he can’t help but be at least a little frantic at all times about her and the pregnancy.

She knows. She knows he means well. She does…

But he’s driving her insane.

—

At Tav's insistence, Gale goes away on a trip to Candlekeep and begins to work through some pregnancy-related anxieties with the help of a certain… tool.

Multi-chapter fics

Tonight I can write the saddest lines (complete; 200k+ words; explicit)

He isn’t much of a partygoer, but he’s fairly certain that this—Tav, on her knees in front of a postdoc, with his cock buried in her mouth—is not how these things usually go.

—

Gale’s only concerns are pleasing his advisor and setting himself up well for an elusive tenure-track job… and then Tav transfers into his doctoral program.

Regression (complete; 50k words; explicit)

They were close once, during college. So years later, when Gale runs into Tav at a bar, he's happy to see her. She’s a widow, his divorce proceedings are in full swing, and hey, maybe they get drunk and sleep together, but do they really need to make a whole thing out of it? It's not like they can remember it anyway.

Or: They don’t pick up from where they left off so much as they bulldoze a new path entirely.

ABD (in progress; act 1 complete; 31/? published; 140k+ words; currently on hiatus until Summer 2025)

“It’s different from Waterdeep. Good. But it’s still a university. And being an academic is still a job, no matter how much some like to pretend it is much more.”

“That’s…” Tav breathed in no small amount of surprise, “not what I was expecting.”

“Hm?”

“You just strike me as someone who is very… attached to their academic persona. I was sure you’d rank ‘Doctor Dekarios’-ing quite highly among your favorite pastimes.”

-

Tavelle is a disillusioned grad student on the cusp of finishing her doctorate in Interdisciplinary Magics. Gale is a new Wizardry professor looking for happiness after his life falls to pieces.

Inside and outside of the university apparatus, they find their way. Together.

Tav of Somewhere (in progress; 1/13 published; on hiatus until I finish TICWTSL)

Sceleritas says her father gave her a gift. Tav wants him to take it back.

Unfortunately, traveling long distances with the constant impulse to murder is even harder than you might think. Thank the gods she meets an entirely-too-handsome and nice prince, as well as a few other weirdos, to ease the way.

-

A Resist!Durge/Gale adaptation of the movie Ella Enchanted (2004)

The Warm Quiet (in progress; 7/~20 published; on hiatus until I finish TICWTSL)

Gale is infatuated with Tav... and then he starts noticing things.

--

A canon-ish retelling of the Gale/Durge romance.

[cuephrase]

2024 Writing Review

tagged in this by @androxys, tysm!!

number of stories posted to ao3: four- three drabbles, one one-shot and one multi-chap fic

word counted posted for last year: 37, 886!! that's so much for me, crazy (both 2022 and 2023 were around 7k, for comparison)

fandoms i wrote for: batman - all media types, babyyyy. two of the drabbles were very comic specific so i have batman (comics) and nightwing (comics) tagged. wait. lmao that was wrong, i've edited it now, was supposed to be batgirl (comics) someone help me oh my god

pairings: we've got two hits for Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, then Cassandra Cain & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Everyone, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, and Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne

so, bc that's giving me a headache, five Dick tags, four Tim tags, four Bruce tags, four Jason tags, and one Cass tag. all but three of those are one fic tho lmao.

stories with the most kudos, bookmarks and comment threads: penance, far and away. that fic got (is getting?) so much more love than i could have imagined or hoped for. absolutely mind-blowing fr

work i’m most proud of (and why): okay so this is a tie between penance and plea for two completely opposite reasons! penance is the first multichap fic i've ever completed and that's a huge milestone for me. plea i'm really proud of bc it's only 100 words but i feel like i managed to accomplish absolutely everything i wanted to and it's sooooooo satisfying to me.

work i’m least proud of (and why): hmmmmm. maybe inventory? it was supposed to be fluff and i corrupted it. so that frustrates me when i think about it even though the finished product isn't bad.

share or describe a favorite review you received: oh gosh ummmmm. help. i really loved every comment letting me know they'd cried real tears bc i am Evil. but if i had to choose one comment, i think this one has stuck with me the most (some parts blocked out bc Spoilers)

the fic has an ending spoiler now that it's complete, but when i was posting it i hadn't totally nailed the ending down. that apprehension meant so much to me, that willingness to follow the story- i could be reading into it idk, but i really value the trust that early readers had because, quite frankly, i don't think i had earned it. i also loved that they both couldn't decide what to think about tim and that they liked it- what i was portraying is messy and complicated and i think there's a really fine line there between stuff being ooc or frustrating or exhausting or dissatisfying with that kind of thing, so it was super !!!!! to have successfully walked that line for them!

but my favorite part of this comment is easily "the power of love is truly an ugly and beautiful thing...made me appreciate life". i don't really write romances, but the power of love is one of those things i end up wrestling with thematically a lot because it's just so captivating and it's one of those things i feel like i can't ever find the words for actually, i need you to just feel it and they felt it and- yeah. just yeah. and then writing/storytelling is something i use to help me appreciate life so overall just 🥹😭🫶 x1000

a time when writing was really, really hard: after i finished penance, rip. i got psyched out by all the positive attention and couldn't write 😅. there were plenty of times this year where i just wasn't trying to write so like i guess that was hard, but being paralyzed by overthinking when i had plenty of ideas and wanted to write Sucked. it's okay, i talked to my therapist finger guns

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: slight penance spoilers lol, but in ch 3, the dick and tim hug surprised me. not that it happened, bc i knew it was going to, but i just had the image of the scene, yk, not like. how it would truly feel to be in dick's headspace in that moment. and omg. it just attacked me. i couldn't stop crying it was so frustrating. i'd pause to collect myself, come back and just nope. the scene is actually shorter than i originally envisioned bc i physically couldn't smh

a favourite excerpt of your writing: oh gosh. um um ummmmmm i really like this bit from ch 1 of penance-

this moment was just incredibly fun for so many reasons, not least of which is that i got to break tim for the first time 😇

how did you grow as a writer last year: i learned that i can, in fact, start and finish something that isn't a one shot. idk if my writing has improved on a technical level at all? but, despite it being a bit of a one step forward, two steps back thing at times, i do think i gained some confidence in my ability to write and that'll be really nice in the long run if i can, yk. take the steps forward without going back.

how do you hope to grow this year: by writing more. i want to actually write things instead of daydreaming and maybe getting down like twenty words and then never looking at it again. at my most ambitious, i build a habit.

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.): oh shoot. i got so much support from so many people i almost don't know where to start. i am so beyond grateful to everyone who has supported me, and i'm going to single out @a-canceled-stamp, @canonicallyshort, and @koraesrambles for enabling the crap out of me. love you guys sm!!!! (that extends to everyone not just those three ofc!!)

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: the grieving process haha.

any new wisdom you can share with other writers: oh gosh ummmmmm. follow your gut. forget about audience, and rules, and whatever- if you know the story you want to tell, tell that story. just get it out. it deserves to be told.

any projects you’re looking to start (or finish) this year: the sequel to penance. my jason fic, my dick fic. i don't want to get ahead of myself or anything, but i hope i've got a handful of fics to look back on next year!!

no pressure tagging @sunflowersandink, @goldenraeofsun, @fleur-de-violette, @byrambles, and @elegitre (plus everyone already tagged)!!

[royal-ruin]

red, white, and royal blue fic recs (part 2)

other rwrb fic recs here personal favorites are starred, by the way. everything is complete unless stated otherwise.

five times henry's competency turned alex on and the one time it turned him into a pile of romantic goo by helenblqckthorn (~4k)

Alex has a fucking thing for competency. A competency kink, if he wants to be crude. And it just so happens that his boyfriend is one of the most competent men in England. Well, Alex, he thinks. You sure know how to pick ‘em.

*ever so careful (heartbreak remix) by everwitch (~7k)

Did you know about me and Henry? Henry is a singer in the mega-popular boyband Honey. Alex is an award-winning actor. But before either of them made their claim to fame, they were something else entirely.

so heart-breakingly beautiful

*i see you (your whole heart) by indomitablelove (~7k)

‘I think he’s excellent,’ Arthur says, picking up a knife from the pot of jam to spread over his toast. ‘It’s refreshing to see someone be so unapologetically themselves. I think we need more of that.’ He glances at Henry. ‘I think that everybody should be able to be exactly who they are, without shame.’ Five times Arthur tried to tell Henry he knew (and one time Henry told him).

when i tell you this had me tearing up

*fleeting seconds (wish you would hold me for more) by zellymaybloom (~9k) incomplete

Henry and Alex have a tradition where they kiss on New Years. 5 times they do, 1 time they don't. Henry isn't sure how much it means. OR in a world where Rio doesn't spark a rivalry, but instead a friendship, Alex kisses Henry every year instead of Nora.

more of the boys being completely oblivious (mostly alex ofc)

(baby) don't make me spell it out by extasiswings for letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (~2k)

One night near the end of first semester 1L finals, just a few weeks before the two-year anniversary of their first kiss, Alex finds himself looking up from his desk with its messy piles of color-coded notes and tabbed textbooks to see Henry asleep on the couch, clearly having dozed off waiting for him to come to bed, and unbidden he thinks, God, I’m going to marry this man. It startles him, the spike of adrenaline that floods through him waking him up and bringing the parts of his brain turning over concepts like proximate cause and strict liability to a standstill as he stares at Henry.  I want to marry this man.

a must-read. i never get tired of alex's pining. (should clarify, they are dating here)

I'm Fine With My Spite and My Tears (and my beer and my candles) by Megg1223 (~8k)

Henry leaves Alex at the lake house, but Alex doesn't storm Kensington. What happens when they see each other after three months? With the election right around the corner can Alex keep it together enough not to cause another international incident? Alex just needs to get through the night and then he can forget about the boy who broke his heart, but he's finding it increasingly difficult as the night goes on.

tagged with a happy ending, but it is angsty :(

**God Save the Blessed American President Mom by zipadeea (~31k)

["June stopped by at lunch; she showed me a delightful channel called Hallmark, which repeats the same story every hour after they swap one round of white, straight, small-town conventionally beautiful actors for another. It was entertaining.”  “June and I used to play a drinking game with those. Take a shot every time someone goes ice skating, sledding, or leaves the big city for their tiny hometown.”  “Good lord, you must’ve been sloshed in the first ten minutes.”] --- On December 4, 2021, an attempt is made on President Ellen Claremont's life.  Alex gets shot instead.

if you haven't read this, you definitely have to now. be warned it is very angsty though.

[bottomlouisficfest]

We hope you’ve enjoyed the fics from weeks 5-6 of the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2023! Every two weeks, we’re compiling all of the fics from that period into one roundup post so they’re easy to find for anyone looking to catch up on fics they missed. Enjoy these amazing fics and give them the love they deserve!

splash me across the silver screen

A fic by pleasinglouis on AO3 | @pleasing-louis on Tumblr | @pleasing_louis on Twitter

23k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry shrugged. “Maybe you just need to get even more outside your comfort zone. Maybe we need to try something a bit more… adventurous?” Curiosity successfully piqued, Louis tilted his head and toyed with the fringe dangling from his lace shrug. “Like what?" “We, uhm—maybe we try filming you in more compromising positions,” Harry suggested carefully. He kept his tone low and even as he studied Louis’ expression, hands skating over his curves soothingly. If Louis didn’t know any better he might have thought that Harry was talking about filming him naked. But that couldn’t be right—could it? “Like porn?” Or Louis is a struggling actor who gets nervous when he's being filmed and Harry comes up with a plan to help him relax when the cameras are rolling.

--

Spiders Don't Fly But Gods Do

A fic by SunshineBoy742 on AO3

7k | Mature | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis Tomlinson is an underpaid photojournalist in NYC. He leads a pretty average life, getting shots of town heroes, dodging flirtatious remarks from old coworkers and being the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. But what happens when a sex god comes to crash in his apartment?

--

i've got something to confess, i keep you in my pocket to use

A fic by babylwt on AO3 | @finelineangie on Twitter

17k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

"You made Harry Styles practically swoon over you, admit you’re beautiful to basically the world, he asked for your number and you said no. Like, you have to be joking.” Bella tsks as she sits up straight, grabbing Louis’ computer off his lap and putting it off to the side. Louis moves to reach for it, sighing in defeat as he leans back against his pillows. “You know how it goes with those sports guys. They’re just after having a good time before they have to go to the next city and play another game and find another person to swoon.” Louis explains. “It just wouldn’t have worked and I’m too busy right now.” Louis shrugs. “Too busy to fuck Harry Styles?” Bella asks with a raised brow. “Yes, even too busy to fuck Harry Styles.” Or Prompt 251: Harry is a hockey player and he's in the middle of a press conference when Louis, a journalist, asks him a question. Harry sees him ans says something like "oh my god, he's so beautiful" to his teammate and only realized his mic was on when the pretty boy blushes and the room breaks in a laugh

--

The Knothead Neighbor

A fic by Kbbean on AO3 | @Kristen09924842 on Twitter

8k | Mature | Tumblr post | Twitter post

This was my prompt: Prompt 3: Neighbors AU, preferably ABO! Harry works evenings/nights (maybe like a surgeon something that requires him to be gone for long hours) and has a cat. The cat has a little kitty door at the back so that it can explore and such. Louis just moved next door and the cat seems to always end up at his door. Eventually, Louis lets the cat in, as he’s new and he’s feeling quite lonely. They become fast friends, so much so that the cat prefers to stay with Louis rather than go home. Harry gets concerned that the cat starts to stay out all day/night so he eventually leaves a note attached to the cat’s collar with its name and phone number. Louis texts him telling him he’s his neighbor and not to worry, the cat just likes to hang with him as it might be lonely. Harry gets pissed that this stranger is stealing his cat so he goes to confront Louis and tell him to stop stealing his cat. Of course, as soon as he sees Louis, he falls in love with him and the rest is history. (If ABO could be cute that both Harry and Louis like to cuddle with the cat because it holds the other’s scent)

--

I found an angel so divine

A fic by april_iris on AO3 | @april_kmm on Twitter

31k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Arishem should have abducted a human instead, to fiddle with their memory. Would have been more effective.” Thena, who had been staring into space for a few minutes, looked up. “Why don’t we just bring a human with us?” Everyone turned to stare at her. “What?” she retorted sternly. “Why not introduce him directly to a human being, so he can see how special the human race is?” Pip, who had dozed off against a wall with his pint still in hand, woke up with a start, while Druig tried to make sense of Thena’s words. “Not a bad idea, but what human being could be worthy enough to represent the rest of humanity?” Angel. Eros thought. “Louis!” Pip shouted. Or Eros/Harry is a dreamboat with singular powers who loves love more than anything and longs to feel it one day, and Louis is the kind human who shows him the way.

--

always had that heart of mine

A fic by localopa on AO3 | @voulezloux on Tumblr

8k | Mature | Tumblr post | Twitter post

louis is nesting, though he won’t admit to it. between being ill, the stress of uni, and near drops, the only thing keeping him afloat is harry’s scent. the fact they don’t get along is neither here nor there

--

you know it ain't fiction, just a natural fact

A fic by anditsonlyforthebrave on AO3 | @HARRYSC1NEMA on Twitter

13k | Not Rated | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Look, Lou” Harry whispers, “I can’t do it, and as much as I like having dinner with you, and hanging out, I think we should just do it without the tutoring part because I am not smart enough for school.” “That’s bullshit,” Louis answers quickly, “what do you like?” he asks, “I mean, other than football and asking me stuff about my family. There must be something else you’re good at.” “I play football and fuck, Louis. That’s it.” Louis definitely doesn’t flinch at that. He does not. --- Harry is the golden boy of the college football's team, Louis is their professors' golden student and they definitely don't have anything in common. Falling in love would be dumb.

--

The Bluest war and peace

A fic by Hazzaslittle28 on AO3 | @hazzaslittle28 on Tumblr | @Hazzaslittle28 on Twitter

27k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

For centuries the Black Haven pack had a tradition where the first born omegas and alphas were to be introduced to each other. The pups were barely ten, dressed in their finest clothings and made to look presentable. That's when he first saw his ruins and he knew that he was never going to be the same.

--

could start a cult

A fic by nouies on AO3 | @nouies on Tumblr | @_nouies on Twitter

9k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

He lowers down the top that Louis is wearing, successfully unclasping his nursing bra as well, letting Louis’ tits bounce at the sudden movement. Harry massages both breasts to stimulate the milk flow, and he can feel his cock hardening inside his pants. or...Harry can’t get enough of Louis’ breast milk.

--

Deleted Scenes

A fic by Stria (Asia117) on AO3 | @nooradeservedbetter on Tumblr | @Striaaaaaaaaa on Twitter

34k | Explicit | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Do you trust me?” asks Louis in a whisper, mouth pressed on the crown of Harry’s head. His voice has that raw quality to it that Harry has only heard a few times, and he takes a deep breath. “I do,” he responds, and he could add something to keep up the charade, tell Louis that of course he does, he’s here for him, to support him, but he doesn’t really feel like doing anything. He’s going away in a very short while, after all. He can’t find the strength to keep up the farce. “I told you everything would be alright,” says Louis. “I told you we will be alright. Do you trust me on this?” Harry hesitates. He feels Louis’ arms tighten around him, and he brings one of his hands over Louis’. He doesn’t want to lie, he doesn’t. Agent Harry Styles was injured on the job a few months back, and gets roped in one last mission before he can retire prematurely: playing house with Louis, a widower who has amnesia. The assignment seems simple at the beginning, but soon enough Harry's twisted in a web of his own making, and can't get out anymore.

--

Remember to give these fics kudos and comments, and spread their fic posts!

--

All roundups will be linked here:

Weeks 1-2 Roundup

Weeks 3-4 Roundup

Weeks 5-6 Roundup

Weeks 7-8 Roundup

Weeks 9-10 Roundup

Week 11 Roundup

[dreaming-of-mossballs]

Happy New Year, Captain. - (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: The Captain of the Silvermane Guards is away for a military expedition. Although he isn’t here to celebrate the new year with the rest of Belobog, you’re determined to make sure he knows he’s loved. By both you and everyone around him.

▸ Genre(s): fluff

▸ Word Count: 7k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: food mentions

A/N: This is part of my florist!reader series, but can be read as a one-shot. Check the masterlist for more! If it’s broken (I swear to fuckijg god—) you can use the tag search function. Type in Mossball_Writing into the search bar.

Love you all and Happy New Year! (SHUT UP I KNOW ITS FEBRUARY I MADE THIS TWO MONTHS AGO)

MASTERLIST

Midday in Belobog was as crisp as ever.

You stood in the open-air plaza of the administrative district, leaning against the wall of the quaint little newspaper shop.

Vaska— your co-worker and friend at the Eversummer Florist’s— had her back turned to the blustery winter wind, which was only offset by the mocha-colored coat draped over her head and shoulders. Her teeth chattered like a broken phonograph, and her cheeks had been burned red by the cold. You stared at her, brow knitted worriedly.

“Hey uh… Vaska? Don’t you think it’s time we get going?”

Tilting your head at her and pulling your coat closer to your form, you gave her a sheepish smile. “We’ve been here for forty-five minutes,”

Her head shot up from where it was buried in the book grasped between her hands. The trademark green beret of the flower shop clung onto her head for dear life.

“What??” Vaska protested. “No, no, no. I’m a hair’s length from the good part! Just—,”

She resumed staring at the page again.

“—a few more pages. I swear. I can’t afford this book until next week. By the time I can get it, spoilers will be everywhere!”

You sniffled, wincing at the cold air that nipped at your nose. “If you want, I can always stuff potting soil in your ears. Free of charge, too,”

“Five more minutes,” she said, pursing her lips. “You won’t regret it,”

“Maybe I won’t, but you will,” you retorted. “Your lips are purple!”

Vaska raised a mitten in a visual effort to block your words. “I can survive a cold. What I cannot survive, however, is someone SPOILING the long-awaited sequel to Tale of the Winterlands,” Your friend tossed her head dramatically, causing strands of light brown hair to catch on her eyes and mouth. She spat them out indignantly.

You lowered your head, dragged your palms over your cheeks, and let your jaw go slack with a groan.

“Fine. You win. Just let me get my mail in the meantime, okay?”

Vaska whipped her head towards you with sparkles in her eyes. “(Y/N),” she gasped. “You’re a godsend!”

You promptly turned your heels and headed off in the direction of city hall, chuckling to yourself as you went. You remembered the way you used to bounce with excitement every time a new mining robot was delivered to your division and you got the honor of testing it out.

We all deserve to be a little giddy about our hobbies sometimes. She works as hard as I do, if not more.

You felt the corners of your lips rise into a smile as you strolled briskly next to the flower beds lining the sidewalk. Aside from a thin coating of frost, they looked bright and lively against the backdrop of the yellow brick wall.

Ah. First snow. I wonder if Gepard has had any luck resurrecting those, you pondered, bending over to peer at them. You lifted your head, only to jolt backward at the sight of familiar (and dashing) blue eyes in front of you.

“OHMYAEONS—“ you shrieked before clamping your hands over your mouth.

But a wave of disappointment soon swept over you. Those eyes you longed to see so badly were merely the centerpiece of a poster, advertising recruitment for the Silvermane Guards. Gepard’s eyes stared imposingly at the plaza behind you.

The artist did a really good job capturing his likeness. You sighed. It was almost uncanny how accurate the determination in his face was.

You rested a hand against the worn parchment, trailing it over a caption that read, ‘You are the pride of the Architects. Help defend their city! Join the Silvermane Guards Today!’, and ‘Great dental benefits!’

Of course, you knew that the reality was far less than glamorous.

Your friend, Gepard Landau, the Captain of the Silvermane Guards and a Belobogian noble, had been away on a mission for a month and a half fighting the Fragmentum. You’d had your fair share of run-ins with the monsters birthed from the residue of a stellaron. They dragged their feet and uttered ghastly moans as they wandered about the abandoned sectors of your hometown. You were immediately swept into the undercurrent of anxiety as images of threats he had to face began to bubble up within your brain.

To quell the simmering fear inside you, you slapped your face lightly with your mittened hands.

He’s perfectly fine! He’s the captain, for Qlipoth’s sake. He’s probably been on the field since he was able to walk, you exhaled heavily, your worries escaping into the air in the form of a small cloud of condensation.

Doesn’t change the fact that I miss him, though,

You weren’t allowed to contact Gepard. No one was, for fear of compromising military safety. Since the Fragmentum managed to attach itself to automatons, there was a possibility that they could receive unfiltered transmissions and determine the location of the troops. The thought in itself made your skin prickle.

Shaking yourself to clear the pangs of loss from your chest, you rounded the corner to City Hall, or the Administrative Office, or as others called it.

It had an air of business about it, maybe due to the constant stream of robed officials streaming out from its doors. They all barked orders at each other— filled with unnecessarily complicated words, you might add—, and pushed up their glasses in the same way. It bored you to death. But until you could get a permanent residence on the Surface, you’d have to keep collecting your mail from this labyrinth of grumpy office workers.

But today, you could hardly see the grilled glass doors past a crowd of people. Through the rapid chatter and the collision of bodies, you heard an official’s voice you recognized,

Manya.

You raised yourself on the balls of your feet to get a better look. Her hair, the color of artificially minty ice cream was frizzy and unkempt, and her thickly framed glasses were taped together at the end piece. Her words barely made it past the clamor of the crowd.

“If you want to register for a—“ She grunted in pain sharply. “Ugh! Esteemed citizen, please stop elbowing me. If you want to sign up for a telephone time, please form a single file line to the right of the lamp post. I repeat, the right,”

Any attempt to take a step forward was futile. You immediately got jostled by a heavyset woman from the right, causing you to collide with the metal bearings of someone’s briefcase. Ouch.

Against all odds, Manya’s piercing red eyes landed on you.

“Manya—?” You raised your voice, hoping to reach her above the crowd. “What’s—,”

She pushed through the throngs of people while her robes billowed with fury. Her hand grasped your forearm, harshly enough that you thought it might bruise, and proceeded to drag you into the building, which was heated with Geomarrow lamps and the sweat of panicking managers. It looked like a scene in a thriller opera, where the vengeful protagonist tears an office apart looking for information about his father’s killer.

Manya practically shoved you into the wall of cluster box units. “Get it—,” she hissed, “—and go,”

“Yeesh,” you exclaimed, fiddling with the key to your mailbox (and nearly dropping it in the meantime). “Can I at least ask what the commotion is all about?”

She turned around from where she was stalking off, a vein on her forehead suddenly becoming more pronounced.

“I do have matters to attend to, but I suppose it’s my duty to attend to the concerns of the citizens, no matter how trivial they may be,” she replied through gritted teeth. “For the new year, Qlipoth Fort allows citizens to contact family in the Guards using their telecommunications system,”

You widened your eyes as she continued.

“Although, they haven’t quite flushed out the system yet. The one for organizing time slots. It’s like herding warp trotters,”

“Um,” you paused. “Okay, how would you sign up for a time then?”

She grimaced. “Oh, not you too. Are you actually interested in one or just curious? Because I think I might burst a blood vessel if—,”

“I am interested, I swear!” You cut in. “I know I’m usually just curious, but I wouldn’t waste your time at a time as hectic as this,”

You’d think a City Hall official would actually enjoy answering questions, you muttered inwardly.

Manya sighed heavily. “Fine. Take a ticket from the dispenser outside and wait in line. When you’re called, they have a form you can fill out to make an appointment to speak with your family member,”

And as quick as she came, Manya spun on her heels and went back to managing the crowd at the door. You collected your mail and did as she ordered. The mass of people had since gathered into a more manageable line, although it was anything but single-file. Peering at the ticket, which was printed in very light ink, you were able to discern the number you were given. 122. You squinted your eyes in order to make out the fine print and gasped.

“Expected three hours until service?!?” You choked out.

Well, in that case, I can get back to Vaska, you shrugged. On your way out, you spotted a few complimentary hand warmers stationed at the front desk, along with the latest edition of the* Crystal* Daily at the front counter.

“Actually… you wouldn’t mind if I took some of these, right?” You inquired the bleary-eyed receptionist.

He blinked tiredly in response.

“Sweet. Have a good day,”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Vaska was looking a little worse for wear when you got back. It had been less than ten minutes, but she had chosen a foldable sign as cover and was squatting behind it. Her green eyes flicked upwards as she heard the plodding of your boots towards her.

“How’s the book so far?” You said, glancing around at the passerby before joining her on the ground.

“(Y/N), if I’m being honest with you,” she paused. “I am so happy I could literally die right now,”

Vaska stared at you stone-faced before her expression became giddy. She pressed the book close to her chest, squealing with glee.

“Whoa there, don’t you think that’s a little extreme?” You said, amused.

“Not in the slightest,” she swooned. “Oh Artem, I missed him so much! His fiery passion hasn’t dimmed a bit,” she stated dramatically while fanning herself with her hand (Which she immediately regretted, as it was the middle of winter).

“Oh Vaska, you’re blushing so hard you could melt a glacier,” you teased.

“Two glaciers,” she corrected you matter-of-factly. Her eyes widened as a sudden shadow fell over the two of you. Fizz, the girl who manned the desk at the newspaper shop, was standing with her hands on her hips, blotting out the sun reflecting off the snow-covered buildings.

“While I do appreciate a fellow Tales fan,” she mused. “This is beginning to get a bit concerning. If you guys aren’t going to make a purchase, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave. Sorry!”

Vaska’s soul seemed to leave her body that very moment.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up. “That’s fine! We’re sorry for overstaying our welcome. I know you have a business to run here,”

“No worries, you two! I’d give it to you, but a girl’s gotta put food on the table,” Fizz shrugged. “I’m pleased you’re interested though,”

Fizz’s cheerful demeanor did little to ease Vaska’s thousand-yard stare.

As soon as you got far enough from the newspaper stand, the onslaught of your co-worker’s crushing despair was unstoppable. She crumpled to the cobblestone-like a wad of packing paper.

You groaned as you bent over to grasp her hood, which you used as a sort of anchor point to drag her across the ground. She made a pitiful sound that resembled a mouse being stepped on.

You sighed. “Come on. Let’s go home,”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

After tending to your wounded slug of a co-worker, you hopped downstairs to beat the frost off your jackets. Your eyes lit up as your phone rang in your apron with the signature ringtone you had assigned to Serval.

“Serval! What can I help a lovely lady such as yourself with today?” You greeted her while picking up the phone.

“Aw, you big sap!” Raucous laughter could be heard on the other side. The corners of your mouth rose into a smile.

“Molly and I just went on lunch break and I figured I’d give you a holler. Are you doing anything this Belobog Eve?”

Before you could say, “Solarflowers,” you had an answer.

“Yes, actually. I went to city hall today, and as it turns out, they’re doing this thing where you can call a loved one using the radios at Qlipoth Fort. All you have to do is sign up!”

“No way! They haven’t done that since things started getting bad in the Snow Plains,” Serval’s voice crackled. “I tried reaching them a few years back with a radio from the workshop, but Pela chewed me out, saying it was a ‘breach of military safety’,”

“Couldn’t imagine why,” you said with a snort.

“Hey, genius. I’m the main arms dealer for the Guards. I know what I’m doing,” she said, a smirk evident in her voice.

“Uh huh, uh huh,” you responded, touching your fingertips to your thumb absentmindedly. “Anyways, I signed up for a slot at ten o’clock, and I was thinking we could all go together to talk to Gepard,”

“Heck yeah! I’d really enjoy that!” Serval exclaimed. “By ‘we’, do you mean Lynx, Pela, and I?”

“You got it,” you said with a chuckle. You peered out at Qlipoth Fort through the windowpanes of the flower shop, the sunlight warming your face. “It’s alright if they can’t make it though. I know you’ve all got your plates full with all that military jargon,”

“Nonsense,” she tutted. “It’d be outrageous if they didn’t let us off for the New Year and… I’ll be honest with you, (Y/N). Sometimes us military folk are so caught up in our own business, we forget to connect with each other. It’s really nice to have you here to remind us we’re human too,”

You stifled a squeal of glee that was welling up in your throat. “Ah—“ you stuttered at the compliment. “I’m not sure how to respond to that. Just glad I can help out, I guess,”

Serval snickered. “Don’t worry your little heart about it. I’ll make sure we all be there. Meet you outside Qlipoth Fort an hour before?”

“Sure. See you soon!” You chirped.

She chuckled. “Rock on, (Y/N)!”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

The Belobog sky was especially mesmerizing that night, you thought.

It had a comforting simplicity you’d grown to appreciate ever since arriving on the surface. Every smattering of white against the royal blue backdrop seemed to hold your gaze as you wondered; just how old was that light reaching your eyes?

Some of the tapestries hung around the city attempted to emulate this feeling of smallness. They were woven with silk as if to imitate that same heaviness the night sky had.

Whilst you gazed at the stars, notes of soft jazz floated down from the balconies above the city where a group of street musicians were playing. You could feel the tremors of the bass beneath your feet thrumming slightly like a heartbeat, as the night ambiance blanketed you in a figurative sort of warmth.

Aeons, your neck was beginning to hurt.

“Hey— Jarilo-VI to (Y/N)—,” Serval’s voice reverberated loudly in your left ear.

A yelp of surprise sprang from your throat as you jolted away. Serval, Lynx, and Pela were standing directly in front of you, evidently enough they had been for some time.

“We were worried we’d be late because we were tuning up the instruments for a New Years show, but it seems like our worries were unwarranted,” Serval laughed, shrill and high. The lamplight glinted off of her multitude of metal accessories.

“Ack! You guys—,” you blurted. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here?!”

“You seemed very intent on keeping your eyes glued to the sky,” Pela pushed her glasses up thoughtfully, trying to hide her labored breath. She looked disheveled, as if she had run here.

Lynx sided closer to you with wide eyes. “Perhaps… you observed an anomaly?”

You chuckled. “No, nothing of the sort. I was just thinking that the star I was looking at was really bright,”

She hummed in response— the ears on her adorable fluffy hat bouncing side to side— and reached for your forearm, raising it to point at the same patch of sky you were looking at before.

“Ah, that star?” Lynx closed one eye to better align her field of view with your own. “That’s Altair. The one underneath the edge of the Tundra Star System,”

“Altair? That’s a pretty unusual name,”

“Yep. I heard it came from somewhere far away, from a small planet called Earth. They believed this particular star was waiting to reunite with another,”

You paused in thought for a moment, the silence causing the other two to tilt their heads.

What a cute little story.

Maybe these kinds of stories were easier to think up when you’d lived under the stars all your life. But even before the Underworld had closed, all you had of the sky were distant, blurry memories. These ideas struck an unfamiliar chord within you.

“Does it ever meet the other star?”

“I’m not certain,” Lynx mused. “The only other star we know of that fits the legend died a long, long time ago unfortunately,”

“Aw,” you pouted. “That’s a shame,”

Pela cleared her throat. “I hate to ruin an intellectual conversation such as this, but it’s in our best interest to get going. The line is already growing at the top of Qlipoth Fort,”

“You can see that??” You squinted. “Crud. I got you guys some gifts but those will have to wait,”

Pela nodded. “Yes, let’s hurry while we—,”

Your face split into a wide grin. “Race ya!”

You dug the soles of your shoes in and ran straight for the stairs to Qlipoth Fort. The others followed suit, a string of indignant shouts and laughter echoing into the night air.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

If being in the mines had been stifling, that was nothing compared to the crowds outside the Fort. Red-faced officials cupped their hands and yelled in an attempt to be heard over the clamor of the mob. You spotted Manya leaning against a wall, any light she once had in her eyes totally gone.

“—a line! Get into three lines! Please for the love of the Preservation—,” someone shouted.

Pela received a particularly hard bump to the shoulder, sending her hurtling directly into your rib cage with a squeak. Through the midst of the chaos, you caught a glimpse of Serval’s arm, adorned with wristbands, flailing a ways away. She pried the people in front of her apart with vigor; a grunt that sounded like a creaking glacier erupted from her mouth to the shock of the strangers closest to her.

“Hold tight you two!” She ordered. “I’m trained to deal with this— you’ve seen Luka, right?”

“And just how is that supposed to be relevant??” You barked back before a stray elbow caught you in the face. You let out a pained grunt and held your nose.

Serval’s face peeked over the crowd as she wove closer to you. “His boxing stance— do that. Arms in front of your face, legs a shoulder-width apart. It’s saved a few of my concert-goers from gettin’ crushed,”

You did as she instructed; the next time someone jostled you and Pela, you felt far less shaken up. Swiveling your head, you realized something was off.

“Hey, has anyone seen Lynx?”

You scanned the crowd for her signature blue hat but to no avail.

“Lynx? Lynx???” Pela called frantically. Out of the blue, you spotted a small figure clad in blue and purple clinging to one of the pillars supporting the overhanging roof of the fort. Lynx looked unbothered, a red rope anchored around the pillar and her feet planted firmly into the side in a classic climber’s stance.

Well, that’s one way to get around it, you shook your head vigorously. The hair on your neck stood up as the speakers belonging to the fort’s PA system crackled to life.

“Attention, Belobog citizens,” a male voice announced. “We’re aware that it has been a few years since the Fort has been able to do this, but please refrain from physically assaulting each other… And to the climber on the right-hand side of the building, that was clever, but this is not the Snow Plains,”

A good-humored chuckle rippled through the crowd. Finally, officials were able to sort attendees into lines depending on what time their call was. You were able to take a long, relaxing breath and bask in the warmth of the heaters surrounding the building, your chest rising and falling as you rested the back of your head against the wall. Serval hummed contentedly beside you as Pela combed through her book.

Blinking your eyes open, your hands darted for your leather messenger bag.

“Oh! About those gifts I got you guys… here!” You tossed the items one by one to your companions. “Glasses straps for Pela… a multi-tool for Serval… and fish pot warmers for Lynx!”

Serval’s eyes sparkled as she fiddled with out the multi-tool, and then proceeded to fill with tears of laughter as you wrapped a scarf around Lynx’s head so that only her eyes were showing, and she waved her quilted fish hands around like some sort of pot warmer ninja. The deadpan expression on her face made the whole ordeal even funnier.

“You know…” you spoke up. “We oughta meet up for holidays more often,”

“Too right!” Serval nodded with a bright smile. You honestly thought you could wait there forever with them, laughing and talking like this.

However, you would find that possibility was closer than it seemed.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

“Hey uh— Pela, do you have a watch?” You asked after some time had passed.

“Yes, why?” She replied.

“I just think it’s been a little longer than an hour,” you said offhandedly, flicking your gaze to the side.

Maybe you were just impatient. From your fast-paced life in the mines, of course. (Not because your heart was swelling with more anticipation than it could handle.)

“Erm…” she peered closely at her gilded watch. “No, you’re right, (Y/N). It’s been an hour and 45 minutes,”

You let out a withering sigh as Lynx piped up.

“Maybe there’s a holdup? There’s a lot of people, after all. If one person goes a minute over, the entire schedule gets pushed back a minute,”

“Yeah… that sounds about right, I guess,” you shrugged. Waiting a little more wouldn’t hurt, you supposed.

That is until another 45 minutes passed with you four waiting in the cold.

“Aeons, I am SO. HUNGRY.” Serval pounded her fist lightly on the wall. “What in the Snow Plains is going on in there??”

“Didn’t you get something to eat before you came here?” Pela quipped.

“Yes, but waiting makes me pretty damn hungry,” she groaned. Her stomach growled in agreement.

Lynx looked up at her sister from where she was sitting by a fire hastily scraped together. She outstretched her arm, a tin of sardines in the palm of her hand.

“Thanks, Lynxy,” Serval said wistfully. Her eyes shot open as the large mahogany door to the fort creaked open. An aide accompanied by two guards stepped out into the turmoil.

“Attention, Citizens of Belobog,” she droned. “I know you may be confused as to why this is taking so long. Well… we’ve received reports that the line connecting our radios to the Silvermane camp has been taken out by the high winds. We’re not sure if it will be able to be repaired tonight, but, you are welcome to stay if you are able,”

And with that announcement, the aide whisked inside, her robes trailing behind her as the crowd began to clamor in anger.

“You have got to be kidding,” Serval hissed. Pela nodded, her eye twitching with irritation. “If— if they had trusted me with the handling of the tech division—,”

You stopped listening as your hands fell to your sides in exasperation. But out of the corner of your eye, through the blurry silhouettes of people fettering away for the night— you caught a small but unmistakable glimpse of sadness on Lynx’s face.

Her face was downturned, her nose, scrunched up. You remember making that face in Natasha’s clinic as you did your best not to break down in front of her.

Placing a hand on Serval’s shoulder as waves of anger rolled off her, you spoke up.

“We’re staying,”

“Stay—? I can’t believe they just blew everyone off like that!” Serval snorted, followed by a sigh. “Why don’t we go to the workshop and break out one of my old radios?”

Pela shook her head frantically, curtains of her indigo hair flying everywhere. “We should definitely not do that. The logistics that that would succeed are very, very, low. Also—,”

“Not everyone is leaving,” you commented. You swiveled your head around. At least fifty of the original 120+ people remained. (Belobogians couldn’t be deterred that easily, you supposed.)

You glanced down at Lynx out of the corner of your eye. “If there’s even the off chance that they can get them working again, I want to try. I’ll even run to the florists to make us some sandwiches!”

Serval paused, seeming to think this was adequate.

“Hmph… You know I can’t pass up a good sandwich,” she put her hands on her hips with a smile. “And, you’re right. Maybe we’ll have a better chance of getting in touch with him if we stay,”

“That’s right,” You smiled. “Now, I’ll go take the trolley real quick. Call me if they fix them!”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

A few of the amenities you brought back included: a large wool blanket, a picnic basket with sandwiches and cookies, and the hand warmers you had grabbed earlier, which were especially for when the queue moved away from the heaters.

Serval was right. Waiting did make you hungry. You licked your lips contentedly after fishing a chilled veggie salad wrap. With your belly full and your body finally warm for the first time that night, you nearly drifted off to sleep until the doors flung open once more.

“Alright, everyone. We’ve gotten permission to fire communications up again. Thank you for being patient,” the same lady from earlier announced. “Please come this way and form a single-file line,”

Your head whipped around in confusion from the sudden turn of events.

“What happened? Just how long was I out?” You inquired Lynx.

“Approximately seven minutes,” she stated. “It’s around 23:50 right now,” The golden-haired girl turned away from you and darted into the building, along with Serval.

Things are finally coming along, you smiled to yourself.

In contrast to the curt PSA earlier, the inside of the Fort was well-rounded with good customer service. It ran like a freshly oiled automaton, with workers directing attendees to different booths, each with a trained operator. The room was filled with chatter echoing off the tiled floor and the sounds of dial tones coming from the radios, which were large blocks of metal with a handheld receiver attached by a wire.

The operator at your booth handed you the radio first, much to your surprise. The other line picked up with a slight buzz of static. Your heart began to race.

“Who would you like to speak to?” The voice on the other end crackled.

“Ah— Gepard Landau, please. Is he available?” You said, with a little less confidence than you’d have liked.

“The Captain? I’m sorry, but I don’t think we have the security clearance for that—,”

Serval vaulted across the table in the booth and grabbed the phone.

“Tory? Tory is that you?? We need to speak to Gepard,”

Pause.

“Like, right this instant. Could you go get him? Thanks. No— if anyone asks tell them I told you to do it. Now go get him!”

She smiled self-satisfactorily, sat down, and tossed the receiver to you while kicking her legs up. You swore you saw a bead of sweat roll down the operator’s face as you fumbled with the device— it was only saved by your pinkie miraculously hooking on the wire.

You tilted your body closer to Lynx and Pela as you listened to the sounds of idle chatter on the other end.

“[—for me?]”

You knew that voice. Your heart leaped as you held the receiver closer to your face.

“[Ahem— Hello?]”

“Why— yes. Um— h-hello!” You blurted out, caught off guard. You craned your head away from the radio with a start towards the jittery-looking operator. “Is there any way to turn this thing up?” You hissed.

“Yes, but please take care not to be too loud,” He rotated a dial at the top of the radio as your group sided closer together.

“[(Y/N)? Is that you?]” You caught a note of surprise in Gepard’s voice, which also had an edge of roughness to it as if he had been shouting orders earlier that day.

“Yep. Not just me though. We got Serval, Pela, and Lynx here too!” You smiled, making eye contact with the others. “Say ‘hi’ everyone!”

A chorus of greetings rang out, the words “big brother” and “Captain Gepard” sneaking into the mix.

“Geppie! So happy to hear from you,” Serval’s blue eyes sparkled as she chimed in. “How’s it holding up out there?”

“Ah, hello, Serval. I’m glad to see you’re doing well,”

Gepard wasted no time getting her up to date, just like a military briefing. You stood by, perplexed.

“We’re working hard to clear up the remaining Fragmentum. The weather has been on the unpredictable side, and it’s caused some of the tech to freeze over, but it’s nothing the Guards can’t handle. At the rate we’re going, we might finish early,”

You let out a small cheer.

He continued. “I hope you and Pela aren’t too swamped before the new year,”

“Hardly,” said Pela, who was pushing up her glasses. “Lady Bronya has done a wonderful job of managing the workload in the intelligence division,”

“That’s no small relief. How about you, Lynx? You’re not doing anything risky in the Snow Plains, are you?”

The golden-haired girl’s shoulders dropped petulantly. “Yes, brother. Our team is doing quite adequately, and it will continue that way as long as I am leading it. Don’t worry about me,”

Her cheeks began to puff up. You smiled. No one had ever worried about you like that before. (Although now that you had Vaska, all the worrying was done for you.)

Lynx handed the phone to Pela first, who cycled through her greetings in a somewhat robotic manner. Next came Serval, whom the operator had to tell to quiet down more than four times. It seemed that their banter never ceased even when they hadn’t seen each other for a whole month. Maybe she was taking this time to catch up, you thought to yourself. She nearly shouted goodbye at him by the time Pela had the sense to drag her away from the table.

You reached for the handheld radio next, confused at where to place your fingers because it was nothing like a traditional phone—

“[Ahem. Ahem— is this thing working? Captain, can you hear me?],” A pause. “[It’s Bronya,]”

Pela’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. You held the phone in your outstretched hand awkwardly as you eyes the others to see if they’d tell you what to do.

“[Lady Bronya, it’s a pleasure. I hope all is well in Belobog?]” Gepard inquired.

Bronya held steadfast conviction in her voice that struck you to your core.

“[As well is it could be, Captain, much due to your unyielding diligence in the Snow Plains,]”

You heard him exhale through his nose slightly. “[I’m not sure I deserve a compliment so grand, but I appreciate it nonetheless, Lady Bronya,]”

You stood rooted to the ground as you heard them hurl very formal-sounding compliments back and forth like snowballs. It was like a soap opera.

“[Ah, and don’t let me forget. (Y/N), thank you for your routine delivery of flowers to Qlipoth Fort. It really does boost morale,]” Bronya said.

Your heart swelled with pride. “It’s no matter at all, Lady Bronya,”

Something compelled you to bow to no one in particular. When you raised your head, more than one person had a raised eyebrow at your spectacle. Serval picked up on your sheepishness and leaned in close, her breath tickling your ear.

“I may have clued her in a bit,” she whispered to you. You covered your mouth with a devious smile.

“[Now, I’ll have to let you go now. There are a few last-minute orders I have to take care of. I wish you all a Happy New Year,]”

“You too, Lady Bronya!” Everyone cheered.

What an honor it was for the Supreme Guardian to grace you with her voice— you swooned. Oh dear. Is this how all Surface-dwellers felt?

It must be contagious, you thought as you wiped your forehead nervously.

“A-anyways, Lynx, how about you take the phone now?”

“Me—? Oh,” she seemed startled.

She picked it up gingerly. “Hi, big brother,”

Something about the way her voice sounded made you take a small step away from the table.

“[You sound healthy, Lynx,]” the Captain said with a softness to his voice you weren’t familiar with. “[Is everything all right there? How is father?]”

Lynx seemed to cradle the radio in the crook of her neck like a penguin would its chick.

“Yes, everything is fine, I— uhh— sorry,”

She paused for a moment, seeming to have lost the words she wanted to say. His voice filled the silence she left.

“[I hope you all know I do miss you, and I’m happy you decided to call,]”

Lynx’s eyes were locked on the table and you could see her feelings churning inside of her. You reached towards the radio slowly, turning down the dial that controlled the volume, and motioned to the others to take a few steps away.

Whatever Lynx wanted to say was her business and her business alone. You could wait a bit.

For a few minutes, she whispered into the phone, her eyes still downcast. When she called you all back over, her cheeks were tinted light pink and it was almost as if a large weight had been taken off of her shoulders.

The orange-haired operator interrupted your moment of bliss. “That was a nice gesture… but please don’t touch the radios,” he pleaded with you.

Your cheeks felt hot with embarrassment. Oops.

You grinned sheepishly, turning back to the radio as the others gathered around you once more.

“So… Gepard,”

The sound of clanking metal reached your ear as you looked off to the side. You could almost imagine him leaning in with that trademark intent expression on his face.

“I’m happy we were able to reach you today,” you spoke, a smile creeping into your voice.

“We really, really miss you. It’s because of you that we’re able to gather here today safe and sound,”

How badly you wished you could see him right now.

“We wanted to wish you a happy new year, so—,”

You cut off for a moment to build up anticipation. Everyone’s eyes were trained on you as you dipped your head down with laser focus and mouthed a countdown to them.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Happy New Year—,”

“Gepard!”

“Geppie!”

“Captain!”

“Elder brother!”

The other families at the other booths looked at you quizzically as a wave of silence swept over the high-ceilinged room.

“Um,” you cleared your throat. “Anyways, we’re almost out of time! Keep fighting hard out there, okay?”

“[Thank you. May the new year bring us prosperity,]” he said with steadfast resolve.

You smiled a soft smile, one filled with so much longing that you could no longer put into words.

“It will, I’m sure of it,”

“[Wait, (Y/N), listen closely. They’re firing the cannons,]”

They’re what?

Your next breath never made it past your throat. The faraway boom of three cannons firing reached your ears, followed by the raucous cheers of soldiers.

“[Happy New Year,]”

And with that, the dial on the side of the radio rang, signaling that your time was up.

You glanced at the group around you in the silence that followed. Lynx’s eyelashes were slightly wet.

“Well, I guess we should get going then,” you sighed.

“We didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Seval pouted, crossing her arms. “We’ll have to make up for it later when he comes back,”

Lynx and Pela nodded, gathering their belongings and pushing open the door to the chilly night air of Belobog.

You trailed behind the others as you exited the building, glancing up at the sky one last time. It wasn’t often you were out long enough for the lights of the city to finally dim and give you a splendid view of the nighttime theatre.

The others turned around, hearing you gasp out loud. A streak of light filled your vision, passing right next to the bright star you were looking at earlier. Than another. And another.

“Guys— look, it’s a star shower!” You pointed excitedly at the sky and spun around quickly; which in turn, caused your messenger bag to hit Pela in the face.

“Now that’s a stellar lookin’ sky if I’ve ever seen one,” Serval raised her hand above her eyes and laughed as you apologized profusely to Pela.

Now, you wondered, was Gepard seeing this too? It was the same sky, after all.

Lynx bounded up to you excitedly and with a slight smile, asked,

“Do you have a wish?”

A wish?

“I think…” you rested a hand on your chin thoughtfully.

“My wish? I want all of us to be safe and happy… For many, many years to come,”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Bonus scene:

As you all went your separate ways, you noticed the light at the newspaper stand was still on.

You moseyed your way over there and rapped on the shutters with a fist.

“Hello? Is anyone still there?”

A shuffle and a groan was heard. Fizz, the bookkeeper, rose from behind a pile of boxes rubbing her eyes roughly.

“Oh! Aeons—,” you couldn’t stop yourself from exclaiming. “Are you okay??”

“Urgh…” Fizz stumbled over to the counter and checked her watch. “I must have fallen asleep while reading. I should have closed up four hours ago!” She groaned again. “What can I help you with?”

You stammered for a second. “I’m not sure if this is the appropriate time to ask, but do you have any of the sequel to Tale of the Winterlands?”

“Ah, I’m afraid we don’t. I can check when the next shipment is coming in though,” she replied helpfully. Fizz pushed aside a sheaf of papers. “Oh?”

You peered over the counter inquisitively.

“It looks like we do have one,” she said, matter-of-factly, turning back to you. “You want it?”

“Yes, please!” You bounced on your heels.

“That’ll be 2,500 credits. Would you like a bag?” She bent over to grab a notepad for your receipt.

You nodded. Fizz handed the book to you, taking less than a minute to prepare a card and tissue paper. She obviously had a lot of experience under her belt.

She handed the brown paper bag to you and you took off towards the hills.

“Thanks!” You shouted back at her. “Happy New Year!”

“You too,” Fizz said as she watched you sprint like a soldier coming home.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Quiet as a mouse, you discarded your boots after entering the florist’s and started towards the back, not bothering to turn the lights on. Everyone was likely already asleep— the shop was all closed up for the night and the plants were bathed in comforting blue moonlight.

You climbed the small spiral staircase to the second floor where everyone slept, wincing as the floorboards creaked. You could spy a small sliver of light emanating from the bedroom you and Vaska shared.

Tapping the door lightly with your fingertips, you opened it. Vaska was in the midst of getting up to answer the door; she had a small candle in her hands and her favorite book lay on the hardwood floor. You didn’t even have to look at the cover to recognize the trademark dog-eared pages and dirt stains.

“(Y/N)!” She whispered. “Where on Jarilo-VI were you??”

“I’ll tell you in the morning, as I’ve had quite the eventful night,” you chuckled. “On the other hand, I got you something!”

You hoisted out the brown paper bag decorated with simple printed patterns to her. She took it from you and peeked inside.

A glass jar of popping candy and a book lay at the bottom of the bag. You watched in real time as she forgot how to breathe.

Vaska pulled the book out with one hand. Glanced at you. Glanced at the book again. She made a sound resembling a whistling kettle and flung herself at you with the force of a soldier, wrapping her arms around you.

“Shh—! Vaska, it’s like, one in the morning. If the boss hears you, you’ll be DEAD,”

You shot a warning glance towards the door. Thankfully, no sound was heart at the end of the hallway, where Meg’s quarters were.

She sniffled, her grip as tight as iron. “I’ll die happy then,”

You sighed. You patted the back of her head in the crook of your arm. How lucky you were to have a friend like her.

“Now, let’s get some sleep, shall we?”

2024 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

[tomionefinds]

Hello, admins! Just wanna ask if you have any other recommended fics under Tom: Virgin. Thank you sm!! ❤️

Hello!!! So I have a few recs and a self rec that I’ll put at the end. ~ AprilRose

Your Secret to Collect by Tempest E. Dashon

E | Complete | 168k

Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr was not someone that anyone wanted to get close to or trust. He was known for being cold and ruthless and unyielding. That is until he meets one untamed and unafraid witch who enjoys watching his temper as she says anything she likes to him. Savior or Destroyer...he was not sure but he was determined to find out.

Nightmare by provocative_envy

E | Complete | 156k

A broken time turner shouldn't have sent me back so far. It was unprecedented. Stepping on it--smashing it--nothing should have happened. At most, I should have lost a week. At worst, I should have disappeared altogether. I shouldn't have traveled back fifty-two years; half a bloody century.This should not have happened.

era appropriate by esotyric (devilrie)

E | One-Shot | 7k

Tom Riddle is pretending to be infatuated with her. Hermione wants to know why.

put your iron hand (into my velvet glove) by foolishlywandwaving

E | One-Shot | 6k

“I confess, I hardly knew what to think when you suggested this at dinner,” Tom breathed over her lips, and then chuckled.Oh my god, Hermione thought in horror.He thinks I’m Astoria. He thinks I’m Astoria, come to seduce him. Or:Tom, Hermione, and misadventures with Polyjuice Potion.

Portrait of an Angsty Teen by April17Rose

E | WIP | 16k

AU that is set in the 1800s. Hermione does not know she is a witch. She lost her family in a fire at a young age and was put in a home where the girls are sold to wealthy buyers. I wonder who is going to buy her ...

Or:Voldemort buys Hermione and imprisons her in his manor where there is a Portrait/Horcrux of an eighteen yr old Tom Riddle.

Or: A fic where I get Hermione to bang Experienced!Snake face and Virgin!Tom Riddle

Also gonna link the Tom:Virgin tag

[goddess-in-heaven-and-hell]

Blessed Be - Gwynriel One-Shot in Celebration of Gwynweek2023

Gwyn’s future will be bright, I just know it. She is one of the strongest characters in the Acotar fandom, and I can’t wait to see what SJM has in store for her story. That being said, you know I’m a Gwynriel shipper - this one-shot is both a celebration of them getting together, as well as a celebration of Gwyn as she is growing into her skin. 

Day 6: Future; @gwynweekofficial​ 

If you don’t like having religion dragged into any type of sexual situation, this one isn’t for you! In no way am I trying to be disrespectful to any religion or religious practice... I just read too much priest smut lol. 

Warnings: roleplay dynamics (priestess-sinner), bondage, wing play, orgasm denial, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, witnessing me going to hell for this  

Word count: 7k oh my- get comfy

I mean it. Get off if you feel uncomfortable.

“Az, have you seen my veil?”

Gwyneth Berdara, Valkyrie and priestess of the Night court, stood in the center of her and Azriel’s shared bedroom, already clad in the dusty blue layers of her robe, her invoking stone around her neck, hair neatly clipped out of her face. The sun hadn’t yet peeked over the horizon. This time of morning was her favorite – quiet, consoling, the perfect opportunity to cast your gaze inwards and give thanks. She was ready for the dawn service underneath the house of wind to do said things with her sisters – if she could find her veil in time and pin it in place.

Azriel, still in a haze from the night, simply pointed to the bathroom from his place on the bed. This was one of the many perks of living with the Shadowsinger: your missing things never went missing for long.

With a swish of her robes, her auburn hair trailing behind her, she made her way to the bathroom, tracking down her veil with only a little pointer from the shadows. In a few minutes most of her hair was swept behind, only the very front of her hairline a shock of color against the soft, blue fabric. Right in the middle, Gwyn thought with a heavy heart while looking in the mirror, would be the place for her invoking stone. She felt the outline of it now, pressing insistently against the skin of her chest, taunting her with its presence. She hadn’t worn it again after her sister died. She wouldn’t start wearing it now.

Sufficiently pleased with her appearance, Gwyn moved back to her side of the bed with silent steps, not wanting to jostle Azriel out of bed just yet. He technically had more time to sleep before he joined her in training, but he also couldn’t resist the opportunity to spend more time with his mate in the early hours of the morning. Not that Gwyn complained – a sleepy, disheveled Azriel was such a deliciously devilish sight it made her hurry to service every morning without fail.

From the little table perched by the bed she pulled her copy of the Sacred Manuscript, flipping it open to the page she had marked the day before.

Azriel had asked her once why she sometimes studied the Manuscript and prayed in the quiet of her room before doing the same at the official service. Gwyn didn’t really know why – only that some days, her mind rested easier, her focus remained sharper, when she did some extra reading all by herself. Both her forearms perched on the bed, her hands joining together as she knelt before her Gods and Goddesses and gave her gratitude and prayers.

Praying had always been a part of her life. It made you feel small, almost insignificant against the big workings of the universe, in turn lifting some of the stress off your shoulders. At the same time it singled you out, made you feel special and protected wherever you went. She didn’t stop praying after Sangravah. Her Gods hadn’t left her, instead giving her a hardship to overcome with grace and strength.

Azriel sometimes joined her, having never been particularly religious beyond the basic rituals the Illyrians taught their race. Or he would watch with half-closed eyes, waiting for her to be ready and engulfing her in his arms one more time before he started the day himself.

This particular morning, he watched again, his gaze trailing over her face. Gwyn could sense he was more awake than just a second before. The bond pulsing between them was more than clear on that. It was the third or fourth time this week she noticed his unusually focused stare, but thought nothing of it, deep in her own thoughts.

With her mind sufficiently settled, her heart light with divine blessing, she kissed Azriel on the cheek and made her way downstairs, through the library and into the chapel.

If she had lingered one more minute in the bedroom, she’d have noticed the scent now emanating in waves from her mate. He had done his best to keep it contained while she was praying, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from her to save his life. Seeing Gwyn pray has been his very own form of torture this past week, one he could only escape through either feigning sleep, or venturing in the bathroom to take a very long, very cold shower.

Gwyn should gut him for even thinking the depraved thoughts that raced through his mind when he saw her dressed in full priestess attire, one more vivid and consuming than the other. He imagined her standing before him, her robes brushing against his knees as he sank to the ground in front of her. He imagined how she’d either bless him or punish him, and he honestly didn’t know which one he liked better. He imagined her astride of him, her robes discarded save for the invoking stone between her breasts, as she chased her own high – using him and his body for her own pleasure.

His desire burned so deep that he had no other choice than to take care of himself before getting dressed, hating every second of his own hand now that he knew how his mate’s hand felt instead. surely sensed his frustration, followed by a little spike of satisfaction, through the bond. He hoped she wouldn’t comment on it.

Azriel didn’t have to worry. They saw each other only sporadically throughout the day. During training, Gwyn stayed in the advanced group with Cassian while Azriel instructed the never-ending inflow of new recruits – some priestesses, some Illyrian girls straight from the camps. By the time he trudged upstairs to his and Gwyn’s bedroom after a long day of work, he was sure his mate had forgotten all about the mixed emotions she must have felt through the bond this morning.

“Hi, Shadowsinger!”, Gwyn’s melodic voice greeted him the moment he set foot into the room. He liked it. Loved it, even, to now come home to a room filled with love and light.

Azriel stalked through the space in only three steps before reaching the bathroom and finding his rightful place between Gwyn’s legs, who sat perched on the counter of the sink.

The deep, slow kiss he gave her in greeting spoke volumes about how much he missed her, craved her. Taking the edge off this morning apparently did nothing for a male when he was mated to Gwyneth Berdara. Gwyn wrapped her slender arms around his neck, prolonging the kiss. As if she couldn’t get enough either. Mate, mate, mate. His heart sang to hers.

“I like this kind of ‘hello’.”, she smiled against his lips, her fingers tangling through his hair and lightly scratching his scalp.

Azriel closed his eyes at her ministrations, only mumbling his answer in return. “You should wait until I show you how I say ‘I love you’.”

Gwyn snickered. “Hopefully by feeding me cake.”

Azriel opened one of his eyes, playfully glaring at her through it. “A damn cake? Are you really that easy to satisfy, priestess?”

Gwyn stopped her massage, much to Azriel’s chagrin, and placed her hands on his chest instead. “A little sugar goes a long way with me.”, her face neared Azriel’s again, her nose brushing his gently, “And it has a 100% rate of satisfying me. Unlike other things.”

Two scarred hands grabbed hers and flung them away from his chest in mock affront. Gwyn had already started laughing before he could open his mouth in defense. One fucking time of cumming before her, and he never heard the end of it. Even though his mate had gotten her orgasm through other ways after.

“I don’t want you to talk to me for the rest of the evening, Gwyneth.”, he put extra emphasis on her full name, showing her exactly that she overstepped dearly. Menace.

Gwyn just jumped off the counter, sashaying over to where he stood, arms crossed. She cooed at him while stroking his arms. The action could have been described as caring, if it weren’t for the big, shit-eating grin on her face. Azriel flexed when her arms travelled over his biceps. Just a little. Lest she forget that he was more than capable of making her cum.

“Poor baby. Getting so salty when I dare to question his manliness.”, she petted his forearm, “What might I do to make you feel better, my mate?”

Azriel had some suggestions lined up in his mind, the images from this morning right at the forefront. But he couldn’t possibly voice those. Not with her faith, not considering the immense compromise she’s already making by indulging him in some of his kinkier fantasies.

But he didn’t ban the thoughts quick enough. Just this one second of picturing Gwyn dominating him and his heartrate spiked, his scent with it. Gwyn noticed. She was too damn observant these days.

“Ohh.”, she breathed out, her head angled to the side and searching his face for answers. “That was what I felt this morning. It’s your scent, but muted. Why would you mute your scent from me?”

Gwyn had noticed the weird behavior from her mate. Noticed the prolonged stares and his quick change in demeanor when she caught onto him. But she was his love. If one person might deal with that kind of thing, it was her. The self-doubt started creeping up on her slowly, but surely.

“I just didn’t want you to be late for your service.”, Azriel said quietly. But the answer had taken him too long for her liking. What if he didn’t want her anymore and rather satisfied himself? Gwyn was more than elated with that side of their relationship, even venturing out beyond anything she could have imagined for herself. But was he?

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Are you unhappy with the way we are intimate?”

His face crumpled, she noticed with relief. He hides genuine emotion slower, or he doesn’t hide it at all with her. “Are you kidding me, Gwyn? Of course not!”

His arms uncrossed from his chest, instead drawing Gwyn into a hug. “I’ve never been happier my whole life. And that goes for all aspects of this relationship.” He kissed the top of her hair.

Gwyn was happy to hear that, especially considering that she had to ‘compete’ against an army of past lovers. But it didn’t explain his behavior. “I’m glad. But why did you suppress it then? I could have gone to service, then meet you before training.”

Azriel signed, contemplating, while his hands brushed up and down her back. After a while, he took a deep breath, and Gwyn was slightly scared at what was about to come out of her mate’s mouth.

“I was fantasizing about you in a different way. Didn’t want you to find out. Because you might have discovered the root of that fantasy if you paid attention.”

Gwyn furrowed her brows, craning her neck to look at her Shadowsinger. “Since when are you hesitant to voice fantasies?”

Sure, he was a private person. But not with her. And given the track record of her agreeing with whatever thing he wanted to try, he shouldn’t be hiding it. Gwyn scolded herself for the thought the second she had it. Just because he was her mate and usually open with any act of intimacy didn’t mean he owed her an answer for everything. Before he could indulge her in a reply, she stepped out of the hug, shaking her head. “I apologize. I don’t want to press you for answers if you are not ready to give them.”

She had already turned to go to bed when his rough hand found hers, gently tugging her back. His features were still set in contemplation, his mind probably working on the mildest way to communicate his wishes. “The sight of you praying,” he started carefully, “and the way you dress for services, that’s what triggered it.”

Gwyn’s breath caught in her throat. Never would she have thought that that was the reason for his fantasy. She raised her brow in question, hoping he’d elaborate.

“I was thinking about how – Gods, this is more difficult than I though.”, he chuckled to himself. Gwyn didn’t understand. The outfit she wore was common, modest. And she had worn it often, even before they were mated.

“Remember the book you read last week? About the couple who pretended to be boss and employee and then had sex while pretending?”, he asked instead. Now Gwyn was utterly confused.

“Yes?”, she said, flushing a bit at the memory of that book. And Azriel teasing her with its contents.

“Well, it’s like that. A kind of roleplay. Just instead of boss and employee, it would be priestess and parishioner.”, he started to speak faster now, as if he wanted to get as much of his thoughts out before she stopped him. “Usually it involves a dominant-submissive dynamic. In this case you’d be the dominant part. And you’d be wearing you priestess attire during the play. I know it’s weird and probably violates your faith in ways I can’t even imagine, but that’s what it was. I didn’t mean to hide it because of trust reasons, I only meant to save myself from embarrassment.”

Gwyn stopped his rambling with a raised hand, eyes wide. “Allow me to clarify: seeing me in my robe and veil turns you on and you’d like to have me dominate you while wearing them?”

Azriel nodded slowly, searching Gwyn’s face and the bond for any signs of judgement – be it good or bad.

“And it would be within a roleplay that made you a parishioner, and me your priestess?”

“Essentially.”, one of his beautiful hands reached back to scratch his neck. She never saw him display so many signs of nerves before. Never.

“I’m sorry. I’ll never bring it up again. I already feel better now that you know, and I’ll get it out of my system eventually.”, he pecked her cheek, conversation ended, and headed to change for bed himself.

Gwyn was still stunned, not quite knowing how to deal with it. She was thankful he didn’t press her for any thought either, because she had too many. She was flattered, confused, and intimidated all at once. That he wanted to use her faith that way didn’t bother her. After all, the Mother and her Gods supported sexual freedom among the priestesses, and that surely extended to the religion itself. But was she ready to command a force of nature like Azriel in bed?

She wanted to laugh at the mental image of her restraining him, taunting him like he had done so many times now. But the laughter never came. Instead, a wave of warmth filled her stomach, spreading through her chest and core. The longer she allowed herself to dwell on it, the easier the request settled within her.

When she lay in bed next to her mate after her evening routine, the room already painted in the comforting darkness of night, she was sure she could do it. At least to some capacity. “Azriel?”

“Mh?”

“I was thinking.”, she started, her voice quiet but determined, “I could do it. Be your priestess, I mean.”

She felt Azriel sit up straight next to her, the mental link to him going just as taunt as his body.

“You could?”, was all he asked, angling his powerful form in her direction to seek her gaze through the shadows.

“Well, maybe with a tiny modification?”

-

And that’s how, with some days of mental preparation, Gwyn found herself in front of the bathroom mirror, veiling herself like she normally would. She had tied her robes, like she normally did, her invoking stone resting against her chest. All perfectly normal.

What was hidden underneath the robe, though, was anything but.

Azriel and her had agreed, at the end, that they’d both switch between dominant and submissive. Her mate would start off in his signature role, then easing Gwyn into her power. They’d agreed on a vague storyline, too, and had spoken about some rules. Azriel’s eyes had been practically glowing when he talked her through his fantasy, growing more and more excited with every affirmative nod Gwyn gave. He had truly looked like a child on winter solstice. And after they were done discussing, he had undressed her slowly and reverently, and made love to her until they both fell asleep, tangled in each other’s embrace.

As Gwyn looked at herself once more in the mirror, she couldn’t help her own excited smile. As unusual as this would be for her, making her mate happy like that did something for her in return. And the fact that she had an ace up her sleeve helped with the nerves too.  

She knew he was coming before the door creaked open, his heady scent cutting though the chill winter night. His shadows were first to reach her, as always, winding up her bejeweled wrist in silent greeting.

Stepping out of the bathroom, she faced her Shadowsinger.

He was leaning against the wall, clad in his usual all black attire, hair slightly disheveled from his day of work. Everything about him seemed perfectly normal, too. Everything but his eyes.

His gaze was intense, set on her form the second she stepped over the threshold, raking over her body in anticipation. Months ago, she’d have cowered under attention like that, especially from someone as powerful as him. Now, her spine straightened and her lips curled. Plan or not, she already had the upper hand right now, and she felt the power surge through every cell of her being.

She hadn’t even shown him the main attraction yet.

“What a pleasure to welcome you here, Shadowsinger.”, Gwyn greeted him in her best soft and demure voice. She tried to simulate the melody her High Priestess took on during rituals – feminine, but confident. “To what do I owe the honor?”

Azriel smiled for a split second, unable to keep his emotions hidden for once. Then, his features shifted into the cold mask of the Shadowsinger, and with a few self-assured steps, he stood right in front of Gwyn.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve received the blessing of a priestess.”, he spoke his part of their little play, voice already going raspy, “Especially from one as beautiful as you.” His scarred hand found her cheek, cradling her face in its warmth and comfort.

His words struck a chord in Gwyn that she was unable to name. The way he looked at her, like she was his salvation and only purpose in life, made her heart race. Azriel had a way with making her feel special, beautiful. Even before they were mated, his words helped in building up her confidence. Now, with him practically eating her up with his eyes… Gwyn smiled a little innocent smile.

And then grabbed his wrist with unrelenting strength. “I wasn’t aware that I allowed you to touch me, Shadowsinger.”

Surprise flitted across his face at her words and as she forced his hand off her face. Then, taking a respectful step back, he said. “I apologize, priestess.”

“Mh.”, Gwyn assumed a pensive look, stepping forward, which in turn made Azriel take another step back. Her hand found his chest, pushing him further until his back hit the wall, wings shifting to accommodate.

It was strange, how this massive male was so easily controlled by the priestess. Gwyn had to admit that she loved every second of it.

“Azriel Shadowsinger – I know it is a blessing that you seek,”, her fingertips travelled feather-light across the expanse of his chest as she spoke, “but given your rather infamous reputation, I think our Mother deserves a confession before she is ready to give the salvation you came here for.”

Gwyn stopped, looking at his face for any signs of discomfort, checking if this change of plans was okay with him. What she saw was a Shadowsinger in awe, eyes wide and focused like a doe in the headlights. She took the time to check if he was still breathing. And then, the connection between them opened, their bond pulsing with his need and her excitement. He must have had a dampener on it until now, only releasing it so Gwyn knew exactly how much he wanted this, needed this. “You’ll get anything you want from me, priestess.”

He made it easy for her then.

“But I’m afraid I have nothing to confess.”

Or not. Doing anything with Azriel was a struggle for dominance, she should have known he was in the mood to make her work for it. Admittedly, she did that to him from time to time too. Well, a lot of the time. Gwyn eyed up his Shadows who were watching raptly, waiting for something to happen. And a plan formed.

“Nothing?”, Gwyn whispered, raising on her tiptoes to make her lips brush lightly over his, eyes never breaking their contact. For all his defiance, he didn’t dare move to kiss her. “How disappointing.”

She nodded to his Shadows, praying they got her intention right. And in a split second, Azriel was moved from the wall to the foot of the bed, facing the room. His arms spread up to either side, restrained by his very own shadows. The tunic he was previously wearing seemed to have been lost in the process too.

Gwyn barely suppressed her smile. She was going to have the time of her life with this.

“I guess that some people need a little push to face their sins.”, she said, her eyes travelling languidly over his tanned, tattooed skin. Her hands reached for the ties of his trousers, daftly starting to work on them.

Azriel got cocky now, sure that if Gwyn untied his trousers, she’d find a way to ‘punish him’ using her mouth on him. What he didn’t know was that Gwyn anticipated that thought and had no plans whatsoever to be the one kneeling tonight.

“Like I told you, priestess, I have no sins to confess. As much as I would like to please you.”

Gwyn stopped her movement on his laces. She worked them open just enough to make a little room for the rock-hard length they retained, but didn’t touch him otherwise. Then she fell back, out of reach, sitting on the edge of their small armchair.

With steady hands, she untied the belt that held together her robes around her waist. And when the fabric slid to either side, revealing the lace underneath it, Azriel looked like he regretted his sassiness very much.

Gwyn had put on a light blue bodysuit underneath, basically see-through despite the delicate scraps of lace. The leg was cut so high, her hips were practically naked, showing off her long legs. Her invoking stone completed the look, resting perfectly between her breasts.

Some shadows came slithering forward, dragging the heavy robe off her shoulder completely.

Azriel let out a raspy sound at the sight of her that sounded suspiciously like a whimper, hazel orbs flying over her form nearly frantically.

“I take that back-“

Gwyn just raised a hand, and Azriel fell silent once more. “You will not be allowed to speak to me unless I allow it.”

Azriel swallowed, then nodded. She wasn’t sure he blinked even once after she let the robe fall open for him.

With a newfound confidence and grace, Gwyn pushed herself off the chair, swaying her hips on the way over to her bound Shadowsinger. She let her fingernails scratch over his abs, grazing the hairs that led to the part of him he desperately wanted her to touch. After giving him a lingering kiss on the neck, right where his shoulder joined a strong column of muscle, she gave her first order of the night. “Spread your wings for me, Azriel.”

He gaped at her, pupils blowing impossibly wide. And then his mighty wings started moving, expanding to either side of him, baring the sensitive membrane for Gwyn to command.

Gwyn hummed at the sight, letting her nails travel up and over his shoulder, reaching for the wing behind. “They are so pretty, aren’t they?”

With another quick agreement between her and his shadows, Gwyn suddenly stood on the bed behind Azriel, in full view of his wings, the feather he sometimes used for writing in her hand. She let the softest part of it touch the place where his wings connected to his back, brushing it up and down gently.

“So strong and beautiful.”, she murmured, letting the feather caress every inch of skin and membrane. The tips of his wings twitched already, Azriel’s breathing going irregular. Gwyn smiled to herself. “But so sensitive.”

She leaned forward, pressing kisses along the skin connecting his wings to his back, sometimes letting her tongue dart out to give it a little lick. Then, she honed in on his left wing, dragging her fingertips along the endless expanse of membrane.

Before her, Azriel let out a ragged breath. “Gwyn, please.”

Gwyn stopped her movement. A few minutes in and he was already begging? “I didn’t know we were on a first name basis.” Her hand wrapped around the strong column of his neck from her position behind him, squeezing slightly and leaning forward. Her lips poised right by his ear, she whispered, “You will address me as ‘priestess’. Any deviation will lead to a punishment. Did I make myself clear?”

Azriel nodded, as best as he could while his neck was held by her. But Gwyn decided he needed to taste his own medicine. Squeezing harder, she added, “I asked you a question, Shadowsinger.”

She felt him swallow beneath her palm, then his voice vibrated along her hand. “I understand, priestess.”

A little kiss on his neck as a reward, then Gwyn was back to teasing his wings. Alternating between the feather, her fingers and her lips, the priestess covered the whole expanse of his wings with attention. She honed in on the extra sensitive parts, dragging her nails over them again and again until the skin of his back was covered in goosebumps. Gwyn was sure he was close to cumming about two to three times, but whenever he started to shake and moan the priestess quickly withdrew her fingers. Need pulsed through the bond with an intensity she never expected. Just as he started to sag slightly, his Shadows having to hold him up, Gwyn decided to play nice for a second.

“I think I am ready to hear your confession, now, sinner.”

His head shot up, sensing his opportunity to cum. With his voice low and breathy, he finally played his part. “I – I confess to having depraved thoughts. I confess that I never needed anything more in my life than to fuck this special priestess of mine. Even though I am not sure she wants it as well.”  

Gwyn’s own blood boiled at the admission. Probably because it was definitely not something he thought of just now. “That sounds sinful indeed. Tell me, Shadowsinger, have these thoughts been weighing heavy and hard on you?”

“They did – they do. Please, priestess. Relieve me of them.”, he ground out, probably sensing her own arousal through the bond as well. She needed to be careful with unbinding him, she thought as he started to tremble with need.

“With the Mother’s blessing, so will you be relieved.”, she whispered against his neck, giving it a few lingering kisses before resuming her caresses on his wings. His talons, sitting perched at the top of them, deserved some special treatment. She moved her mouth over to his right talon, brushing her lips over the hard surface. A swear escaped Azriel at the touch.

He had told her once that the talon might as well be the equivalent to his cock. If handled gently, he’d be able to cum just from that. Gwyn was about to test that theory.

Enclosing her mouth completely over the talon, she started to suck. Her tongue swirled over it, licking up and down and coating it in salvia. She knew it didn’t take long now. After just a few seconds of gentle sucking, he came undone. As Gwyn peeked over Azriel’s shoulder, she saw him explode, muscles contracting from head to toe and cumming right into his trousers.

He panted heavily, barely hanging onto the shadowy restraints. If this is what Azriel felt like whenever he made her cum in a vulnerable position like that, she began to understand his preferences.

Moving around the Illyrian to face his front again, Gwyn cupped his face with both of her hands and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, reaffirming her love to him without having to use her words. Azriel looked up to her, hazel eyes molten and wet with unshed tears. She flashed him an alarmed glance at the sight – the bond hadn’t informed her of any pain or discomfort despite the obvious frustration. Azriel just grinned back, shaking his head slightly. Warmth and love seeped through the bond – I’m okay, it seemed to whisper to her.

“The shadows will release you now. You’ll get rid of the rest of your clothes as soon as they do.”, stepping back, voice again going firm, she watched as the shadows did as she commanded. Azriel had regained most of his strength back and went to work as his hands were freed.

Gwyn moved over to the chair, sprawling on it with an ease she didn’t really feel. Especially after seeing Azriel’s length spring free, slapping against his stomach as he was either aroused again or never really stopped being aroused, she felt more than hot and more than ready to give in. But he would make her work for it harder, so that’s exactly what she was going to do to him, too.

Raising her hand, she moved her pointer finger in a ‘come hither’ motion. Azriel obeyed, if not dragging his feet at bit to be annoying. When he stood right in front of her, her finger simply pointed downward. The command was clear, and the Shadowsinger sank onto his knees before the priestess.

It was a sight to behold. The mountain of a male, scars littering his skin and power pulsing in every inch of him, had his head bowed in reverence, his hands resting on his knees. Between them, his hardness still looked to be kind of painful, oozing pre-cum that mixed with the actual cum from before. She didn’t allow him to clean himself, but he didn’t seem to mind too much. He waited, preternaturally still.

“Aren’t you so good for me?”, she said gently, watching his cock twitch at her words. Gwyn leaned forward, spreading her legs to enclose the Shadowsinger’s form inbetween her. Her hand sneaked out to lift his chin, his eyes instantly finding hers.

“I think you deserve a reward, mh?”

Azriel nodded slightly, lips parted.

“What do you wish for?”, she asked, feeling extra generous. His damned face did that to her. She didn’t understand how he stayed so firm and harsh when the roles were reversed.

Azriel’s eyes travelled from her face, all the way down her body, to her wet core. “May I please you, priestess?”

Gwyn’s own breath turned ragged at his words, her heartbeat quickening. She hadn’t even noticed her own need, so absorbed in every moved of his. But she tried to attain a façade of boredom when she nodded and scooted forward, right to the edge of the chair. “Make me cum.”

Azriel’s hands came forward to wrap around her calves, gently nudging her legs open even more. Then his lips began to trail a way from the inside of her knees all the way across her inner thighs. He was so soft, so reverend in the way he caressed her skin. Repeating the motion on her other leg, he began stroking his hands up and down her calves. Until his face was poised right in front of her core.

“Go ahead, Shadowsinger. Be good to me.”, Gwyn breathed, hopefully sounding more in charge of the situation as she felt.

His nostrils flared, probably taking in her considerable wetness. And then, he started kissing her. Gwyn’s whole upper body fell back on the chair, only her hips remaining in place to receive his attention. Even though his lips and her skin were separated by the thin layer of lace, she felt every brush of his mouth, his heat, on her. It sent fireworks right up her spine. After a few seconds, her bodysuit was already soaked, revealing the outline of her pussy to him.

He honed in on her clit, sucking it in between his teeth and then resuming his languid, open-mouthed kisses on her. Gwyn’s hand found it’s way to his hair, pressing him into her further. Azriel groaned into her wetness, applying more pressure now.

After another minute of the delicious torture, she reached for the fabric covering her crotch and pulled it aside. “Another reward.”

The next touch of his tongue nearly undid her all by itself. Azriel wasted no time, licking up and down her slit, circling and sucking her clit with never-ending patience. He grabbed onto her ankles and brough both of her legs to rest on his shoulder while he worked her expertly, drawing little moans and whimpers out of her in the process. His hot tongue eventually found her entrance, circling it and dipping in ever so slightly. Gwyn was so wet, she probably stained the chair underneath her.

As he began plunging his tongue deep inside her, stroking her inner walls, his hand came up to her core as well, rubbing her clit in tandem with his mouth fucking her. Gwyn was completely gone at this point and only needed one, two more brushes of his tongue to come undone.

With a loud moan, her walls spasming around his tongue, Gwyn arched her back off the chair and came right into his mouth. Azriel’s answering moan vibrated along her pussy, drawing out her own release even longer. It might have been the most intense orgasm she’d ever had. When she couldn’t take the stimulation anymore, she shoved Azriel’s face away from her.

“Go-“, forming words had become hard for the priestess, “Go and lie on the bed.”

Azriel stood on slightly shaky legs, obeying without any show of resistance this time. Gwyn took it as a sign that he was just as far gone as her, but she needed another moment to collect herself, to not break character and just let him manhandle her for the rest of the night.

After her breath had returned to normal, her desire muted but not gone, she stood from the chair herself. She peeled the bodysuit off her skin, now only wearing the stone and her veil.

Azriel waited for her patiently, lying on his back, wings spread underneath him. As Gwyn crawled up over his legs, her body brushed his cock, forcing a curse out if his mouth at the contact.

Gwyn tutted at him, now straddling him without connecting their intimate parts. “I don’t care for your filthy words, not when you are about to receive what you came here for.”

The Shadowsinger took her in now, completely bare on top of him. She must have looked possessed at this point, skin flushed with desire and heat, eyes glowing. Whatever he saw in her made him swallow again. “Please, priestess.”

Gwyn smiled down at him, brushing his sweat soaked hair from his face and caressing his cheek. She leaned down to connect their lips in a searing kiss, her tongue stroking his. When she drew back, a wicked thought crossed her mind.

“Shadowsinger”, she started and waited before he trained his eyes on her, visibly fighting with himself to remain submissive and not just fuck into her, “Do you know the prayer of forgiveness?”

The Shadowsinger nodded, biting his lip. If she’d have asked him for the moon on a string in that moment, he’d have flown up to the sky in seconds.

“Then recite it for me, for our Goddess. So that you might find your blessing.”

She smiled, actually curious if he’d remember.

“Holy Mother, blessed be-“, he started with a shaky voice.

“Stop.”, Gwyn’s fingers danced on his chest as he tried so hard to pray for her. “Be loud and clear, my love. Otherwise you have to start over.”

Azriel ground out a breath that would have been a curse had he not a little slither of control left.

“Holy Mother,” he started again, this time firmer, “blesses be Your divine power and blessed be the fruit of thy womb”

“Good”, Gwyn murmured absentmindedly. Then she sank down on his cock, not taking it in her yet but rather between her lower lips, rocking back and forth. Azriel lost it immediately, stopping his prayer and moving his hips at the first bit of friction he received all night. Gwyn shot him a stern look that made him go still immediately, letting his priestess control the movement.

“I justly deserve to be cast away from Thy presence.”, he continued, eyes switching between being closed in pleasure and cast up towards Gwyn’s face and body. “Yet-“

Gwyn sat up again, grabbing his slick cock with her hand and positioning it at her entrance. “Yet?”

Azriel fought for dear life. “Yet out of Your abundant love and mercy-“

Gwyn sank down on him, engulfing his length in her heat completely. She let out a loud moan while Azriel practically shouted the last word at her, abs contracting and shaking with restraint and pleasure. That she spread his own cum in herself probably didn’t help his situation either.

“You were saying?”, Gwyn giggled, breathless but so incredibly full it made her happy.

“Mercy.”, was all he said, before his memory gave out. The priestess was a forgiving female though.

“I pray for Forgiveness for my sins.”, she recited for him, slowly rocking back and forth and driving him absolutely insane.

Azriel repeated after her, then remembered the last bit of the prayer himself. Gwyn guessed it was some kind of survival mode that kicked in at this point.

“Let your wisdom pierce my heart, and let my heart be changed.”, he prayed quickly and with a voice close to gravel. “Please...”

His eyes found Gwyn’s, and if she hadn’t thought he looked at her like she was the Goddess he prayed to, she sure as hell did now.

“Please cleanse me, Gwyneth, with your sweet love.”

This was the last straw. Gwyn moaned loudly, now moving on his cock in earnest. Azriel’s head fell back on the sheets, done with his work, and let her use him – give him as much as she wanted and deigned appropriate. The priestess felt every ridge and vein of his proud length in her as she rode him with abandon, her necklace and breasts moving with her passion.

“Azriel, touch me.”, she groaned, already reaching for his hands and placing them on her body herself, too impatient to let his slow mind process her words on his own.

It didn’t take long for Gwyn to feel the pressure building in her lower belly, coiling tighter and tighter with every bounce on his cock. She was impressed that her Shadowsinger held it together that long when she knew he must be close as well, and had been close for the past half-hour.

“Gwyn, please.”, he pleaded from underneath her, now tilting his lips in time with hers, chasing his own high.

“Cum, Shadowsinger.”, her last command of the night was barely spoken when Azriel arched his back, shouting profanities and her name into the room and coating her insides with his essence. That was all Gwyn needed to feel before she, too, released the tightness within her. Gasping and panting for air, she let herself fall onto his chest, her head finding the crock of his neck to rest.

She felt to spent, so completely elated she might as well be floating on air. She watched with rapt attention how Azriel’s chest went from frantic movement to the slow and steady rise and fall she was used to. Then, she raised her head. “Why don’t we take a nice bath, mh?”

The house was listening in it seemed, as she heard the faucet turn on in the neighboring room. With care and slowness, she raised herself off Azriel, his cum trickling out of her and down her thighs. The feeling made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Gwyn went to pee quickly, then returned to the room.

The Shadowsinger hadn’t moved, just lying on his back with his eyes closed. Which was so untypical it alarmed Gwyn slightly. He needed some aftercare, and quickly, it seemed.

She leaned down to press soft kisses all over his face and chest, before grabbing his hand and tugging him up. When he finally glanced at her and moved his tired body to sit on the edge of the bed, Gwyn shimmied in-between his legs.

“You were fantastic, Az. So perfect.”, she cooed, hugging him into her so his face rested against her upper belly. Gwyn’s hands caressed every inch of skin she could find until his own hands came up to wind around her. “Thank you.”, he murmured against her, “Thank you for this.”

Gwyn untangled herself from him, tugging him to the bathroom in silent answer.

She spent a long while washing his body and hair, stopping here and there to give out kisses freely. If he had looked at her like a child on winter solstice when she agreed to do this, he now looked at her like she single handedly cured the world of all evil.

When they lay in bed that night, cuddled so closely they might as well melt into one another, Azriel seemed to have gained control over his mind once more.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”, he said, arms tightening around her naked body.

Gwyn grinned into his chest. “Ask the Mother next time you pray to her, she might answer with that level of devotion you displayed today.”

Azriel just snorted. Then fell quiet once more.

“I love you, Shadowsinger.”, Gwyn admitted.

A kiss to her forehead before he answered, “I love you more.”

[away-ward]

oh my! Your blogs are lively these day, we love to see them! Happy valentines day KO, hopefully you have a good week 🥰

You reply to latest anon "Let me know what it would take to make WinterMichael work (joking)." HAHAHAHAHAHA IM SO SORRY WHATTTTTT im not gonna lie, i just bust out laughing when i read that. They never even come across my mind, now, but i'm very 🤨🫣 what have you done to me KO!! Damon Rika would end us!!

i love the damon-will-emory discussions that had been going on here too, so fun to see how people interpret characters and stories so similar yet so different than others! I can't lie, not until this week did i only notice about will being deceitful and cunning, maybe because it was never highlighted as much in other DN discussion & platforms? I only ever heard him being sunshine and suffering, but now that i took a step back and look at his personality... hmmm 🤔🫢 maybe these anon readers are onto something! Thank you all for this enlightening, maybe i should read this series more critically, how could i miss this!!

KO, question for you, list any 3 aspects of DN that you like a lot, doesn't matter if it's about the style, plot, characters, writing, feeling, etc. I don't think you've talked about this before right? Or maybe you did, but i never saw it, because i'm new ✌️😗

Hello new friend!

The frequency of asks definitely goes through phases. It’ll be silent for weeks and then a flood, but I don’t mind.

Damon Rika would end us!!

I’m still convinced that this is the reason PD made them siblings. They’re too easy to ship otherwise. But I also feel that they want to ship them, too, so they sort of shot themselves in the foot with that.

i love the damon-will-emory discussions that had been going on here too, so fun to see how people interpret characters and stories so similar yet so different than others!

It’s a lot of fun to see how other people interpret the series! It can be frustrating too, at times, but it’s mostly so much fun because it’s not really that serious. And a lot of readers have really good thoughts and insights that I would never have thought of. As long as it stays fun and respectful, I’ve loved getting asks of people just going off with their thoughts and interpretations.

Not until this week did I only notice about will being deceitful and cunning,

Seeing Will this way gives him so many layers, I highly recommend! I don’t want to toot my own horn, but if you haven’t read my 7k word Will analysis, you might find that interesting.

KO, question for you, list any 3 aspects of DN that you like a lot

Ooooo, okay! DN actually ticked a lot of boxes for me. I’ve touched on it before but no harm in going over it again.

I think the main thing I enjoy in any piece of entertainment is layers.

I really enjoyed the dual timeline aspect.

This is one of my favorite tools of storytelling. I love when the story starts in the middle and then takes us back and forth to tell the story. We get to watch everything unfold in layers instead of a straight shot. Don’t tell it to me straight, make me piece it together.

Friendship groups

I love strong friendship groups/dynamics. There’s been a rise in the core “3-4 Boys Rule the school” trope, and those don’t always hit with me, so it’s not that.

How relationships between people in the group grow and develop at different rates, and how different types of people show love in different ways, and how people band together to cover another’s area of weakness.

There’s a few quotes from Devil’s Night that I feel really hit on why this is interesting to me, but I ran across one the other day from Fire Night. Talking about Damon (who else, really?) Kai says,

“God, I hated him. I mean, I definitely jump off a bridge for him, but…”

It just drives me crazy wondering why? And I love that.

I’m debating on what a third thing was. I think the other two things hooked me enough to keep me reading, but…

The writing wasn’t terrible all the time. I loved Thunder Bay as a concept, and I think I was really hoping that the books would lean more into a crime/heist plot than they did. I remember in Conclave when Rika was like “but we’re not criminals” I was really disappointed.

They are criminals, and I wanted them to own it and do something with it. In my head, that’s were I would have taken the story. I don’t really care how they ended up in jail. They played with the law, they faced the consequences. The lesson they should have learned was be better criminals. Instead, we focused on how traumatizing that was for them, which… okay I guess.

I mean, overall the story caught me. If it wasn’t for Willemmy high school, I probably wouldn’t still be around. But I loved them so much that I sort of built up what I did enjoy and wish had taken place over the pieces that I didn’t really care for. A lot of what I talk about is just headcanon, but that’s okay. That’s what I use fandom for.

Thanks for the question, that was fun. Feel free to let me know what you enjoyed/why you're still here! It seems everyone loves to hate on the things that didn't work for them, which can be fun too. But there has to be a reason this series is occupying a space in our heads, right?

Looking forward to it

Ko

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

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1. Hi Hi! There’s this fic that I feel might have been deleted but I wanted to try to find it anyway. The fic was about Wei Wuxian dying and getting reborn as the son of a massive wangxian fangirl. Wei Wuxian grows up with his mom reading fanfic of him and Lan Wangji and he also reads the actual novel and learns a few things he didn’t know before. They even bring Lan Wangji into their world through the novel I think at some point. 🙏🏼 Please help

FOUND! What Your Heart Desires by pupeez4eva (M, 7k, Humor, Crack, WWX is reborn in the modern world after his first death, where the MDZS novel exists, WWX becoming VERY well acquainted with the whole novel)

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2. Hello! Can you help me find a fic? :< I've read a fic where wwx is a human sacrifice and he is residing in Cloud Recesses. He cannot go outside his house. He also has chains on his ankles. Also, lwj is his guard. I forgot the tags :(( thank you ver much! <3

FOUND? The Sacrifice's Last Guard by 0_Heta_0 (E, 24k, wangxian, falling in love, hurt/comfort, smut, angst w/ happy ending) The GusuLan Sect is in charge of guarding the gods' chosen sacrifice until their twenty-second birthday. For years, Lan QiRen has held that duty. However, after he is called away on urgent clan business, Lan WangJi is asked to step in and guard the sacrifice for his last few months of life.

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3. Ok, not sure if I’m doing this right. But could you please help me find a wangxian fanfic. The premise is that LWJ is on a night hunt and is somehow transported to a modern world. And while he is silently panicking little A-Yuan runs into him and starts crying which brings WWX running. He thanks LWJ and offers to get home lunch. That’s all I remember, I don’t know if it was a one shot or a WIP. Thanks for your help. @gwencaer

FOUND! CH. 4 of Cosmic by apathyinreverie (T, 10k, WangXian, Modern AU, Time Travel, Oneshot collection)

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4. Hi! I can't find I fic I've read so many times and hope you can help me! It's one where wwx is a ghost and looks after jl, and becomes more aware after saving jl from a fierce corpse. Wwx kinda haunts lotus pier and jc eventually finds out after an intersect tournament(?) where jl uses one of wwx moves to beat lan sizhui. Then jc accepts wwx and wwx disguises as a new jiang sect member. Does this seem familiar at all?

FOUND? Death of a Ghost by Gotcocomilk (E, 107k, Family bonding, Fluff, Angst, Parental WWX, BAMF WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Ghost sex)

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5. Sup! I'm looking for a fic where wwx is in a coma, and the fix mostly takes place through his dreams. A lot of what people are saying to him outside of the coma comes through the dream, and I remember I think Lan Qiren notices that he has a boner? And they're excited irl bc that means his body can move? I know it's such a weird thing to remember but it did stick out. I think in the dream hes trying to keep custody of a-Yuan as well. Thanks for looking!

FOUND! From Underneath by steppjes (M, 15k, WangXian, Major Character Injury, Modern AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Supernatural Elements, Demons, Ghosts, Hallucinations, Grief/Mourning, Mutual Pining, The Troubles of Baby Acquisition)

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6. I’m looking for this one fic on ao3. Wangxian are married and Lan Zhan decides to compliment wei ying. Wei ying gets so flustered that he like you can’t compliment me without a schedule meeting three days in advance. Lan zhan does that and continues to compliment him and make him blush and it end with lan zhan writing a formal letter stating that he plans to compliment him in 3 days and it will eventually lead to “Everyday” @harrypotter55

FOUND? Content Warning: Romance by Ariaste (M, 5k, WangXian, BDSM, Praise Kink, nonsexual kink, which turns into sexual kink, wwx's canonical fetishes, Kink Negotiation, basically my ongoing mission to demonstrate to fandom that Kink Can Be Unbearably Soft Actually)

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7. Hi, I hope you are doing well. I am looking for a fic where wwx is a rapper (i think he was part of a boyband before??) and big fan of classical musician lwj and asks to work together which is great for both. Set btn NYC&LA. On scene i remember is wwx falls sick due to old knee injury at AMA afterparty but media paints it as drug addiction. I am desperate to find the fic. Please help!!

FOUND? Melodies series by sassybluee (T, 241k, WangXian, Rapper WWX, Classical musician LWJ, Modern AU, Slow burn, Fluff, Hurt/comfort, Light angst, Knee surgery)

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8. Do you remember the name of the fic where wwx goes to gusu with lwj to submit to cleansing, but lwj doesn't realise it will kill wwx as the demonic cultivation is what's holding his body together? There's a bit where wwx asks lwj to do the cleansing and he thinks that the lans know it will kill him?

FOUND? 🧡decay by antebunny (G, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, the fluffiest ending, Hurt/Comfort)

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9. I was wondering if you knew a post-canon fic where there's a scene in which JC, WWX, LWJ, maybe LXC and the juniors(?) All end up in the forest during a night hunt(?) And are forced to relive the Nightless City massacre and see Jiang Yanli die. And not sure if it's the same post-canon fic but one where the Elders of some sect (I think it's the Moling Su?) accuse the Jin(?) Sect of something during a discussion conference and Nie Huaisang helps out.

Mikkeneko asks: For #9 - is this the same fic where Jiang Yanli gets brought back to life following revisiting the massacre?

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10. hi there! sorry again to bother and thank you so much for everything you guys do 💕 i'm looking for a fic where it's a yunmeng shuangjie reconciliation if i'm not wrong. i don't remember the exact plot, but i think on a night hunt (?) jc and wwx get separated from the group and they encounter a dog yaogaui and jc has to fight it in order to protect wwx (i think they're both injured or sth as well and they're not in great terms yet), thank you! @bi-bi-bitteraf

FOUND! many envies by newamsterdam (T, 21k, JC & WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, Night Hunting, Ghosts, Action/Adventure, Reconciliation, Brotherly Love, Complicated Relationships, Cultivation as Plot Device, Novel Spoilers, Post-Canon, Yunmeng Shuangjie) JC and JL rescue LSZ and a cowering WWX from a pack of dog guai (and *then* JC and WWX get separated from the party.) / in many envies, after JC and WWX get lost, they’re confronted by the Baihu of Carnage—which looks more canine than feline.

thank you so much!! the one i was looking for was definitely many envies 🥰

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11. Heyo Mod L and Mod C. Looking for a fic where i only remember one weird fact. WWX can only drink alcohol and eat meat? Not sure about the meat part but I remember it’s on CR and WWX need alcohol to sustain? Please help me. It feels like something i made up!(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ @sandriya-artemis

Hi! Fic finder #11 here. It’s not the tiger verse series. I think WWX is a demon? Another titbit I remembered is i think WWX almost collapsed before they found out. JC is a good brother here! Thank you trying!! I’m kinda losing my mind over this. I even went thur the demon WWX tag but i dunno it’s deleted or i just couldn’t find it

NOT FOUND! 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) hi, for no. 11 on the fic finder, id love to know if the asker meant the tiger fic because it does have a scene where lwj overhears jc commenting that without alcohol itd be unbearable for wwx (hed even get him poppy to be able to sleep), and they also mention the meat thing

FOUND? The Beast of Gusu series by Netrixie (T&M, 212k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Eventual Happy Ending, Unreliable Narrator, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Angst, Wolf-shifter WWX, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, Fix-It, Werewolf, Shapeshifters, Sunshot Campaign, Canonical Lan arm strength, Supportive LXC, Good Parent JFM, POV Alternating, Time Skips, LQR is a bad parent and so is QHJ, LQR Being an Asshole, Found Family, WWX is LXC’s anger translator, Super Soft, Зверь из Гусу by Den_Allen)

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12. Hi! It’s @lustinyiling again. I really appreciate you guys running this blog as well as Mojo running @wangxianficrecs !! For the next fic finder, couldu help me fund the one where Wei WuXian was a servant for the Wens and when Lan XiChen and Lan WangJi visited they wouldn’t let him eat so Lan WangJi shared his food with him? The next time they go back Wei WuXian is with the pigs where he’s barely moving and waiting for the pigs to eat him. Then the jades take him back to cloud recesses and nurse him back to health.

FOUND? The Dawn Shepherd by FairyGardenCorgis (E, 145k, wangxian, hurt/comfort, angst w/ happy ending, PTSD, trauma, emotional & physical abuse, sexual abuse, torture, trust issues, slow build, gang rape, MIND ALL THE TAGS!)

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13. I’ve got a Fic Finder ask, because the answer will fulfill #14 on this post: I recall a fic where WWX, having lost a hand either to YZY or during his ordeal in the Burial Mounds, formed a prosthetic hand of resentful energy. Mondengel is a likely suspect, but I’ve failed to find it.

NOT FOUND! ❤️Love made visible by Moominmammashandbag (M, 31k, zhuli (jiang yanli/wen zhuliu), wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, major character injury, amputation, hurt wei wuxian, angst, JYL is a ROCK, and she cultivates with food, Hurt/comfort, Mojo's Post)

NOT FOUND! brave enough to breathe by Sour_Idealist (M, 10k, JC & WWX,Canon Divergence, Golden Core Fix-It, canon-typical family dysfunction, Torture, secondary character death, Canonical Character Death) #13 MIGHT be brave enough to breathe by Sour_Idealist YZY cuts off his hand, and in later installments of the series WWX makes a prosthetic hook which he cultivates with, but not with resentful energy, since the core transplant doesn't happen in this AU.

FOUND! A Leg Up for a Helping Hand by @mondengel (M, 650, WIP, WangXian, Amputation, Angst) That sounds like they couldn't find the bit I wrote here. I put it as part of a longer work: but I just posted that first chapter to AO3 incase they wanted to read it

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14. Hi Mods! For the fic finder - I remember a very angsty fic, from LSZ’s POV. He grows up in the cloud recesses with LWJ and WWX after LWJ saved them after the siege. No one else seems to interact with WWX. He teaches LSZ to play wangxian, and he plays it to LWJ, who is stunned and sad. It turns out that WWX was either a ghost or a figment of LSZ’s imagination. There’s no happy ending. Does anyone remember it? Thanks!

FOUND? The Intervening Years by roserocksrapidly (G, 11k, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & LWJ, bg wangxian, canon divergence, LSZ centric, parent-child relationship, fluff & angst, hurt/comfort)

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15. Hi, how are you? I'm looking for a time travel fanfiction on AO3, but I can't find it. I remember a scene (in the first chapters, if not the first chapter) where shortly before WWX discovered the rest of the Wen (where he had discovered them and was just about to talk about it, I don't remember, sorry) but a "wind" swept through the whole room and everyone came back with their memories from before they died except WWX.

And he wonders who Patriarch Yiling is and, ironically, pities him for having more than the majority of the cultivation world at his back

FOUND! second verse, same as the first by Cerusee, Mikkeneko (T, 41k, WangXian, ChengQing, NieLan, Time travel, Crack treated seriously, Everybody lives, Implied/referenced suicide, Memory loss, Canon Divergence) I would add one comment: the scene that the asker describes is actually from "yakety sax arrangement for guqin and xiao" rather than "second verse same as the first." Just mentioning since 2nd Verse is the second in that series, so you won't find the scene in question if you start there.

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16. oh god ok so I read this fic a while ago and i can't find it TT_TT wwx is drowned in the lotus lake by madam yu as a punishment and he nearly dies? lwj takes him to cloud recesses and his siblings also come along and it is mostly about wwx healing. i specifically remember him being unable to smell lotus flowers anymore, or even look at them bc of the trauma of drowning with them.

FOUND! 🧡 rain falls and soaks into the earth series by RoseThorne (T, 36k, WangXian, WIP, Near Death Experience, Attempt Drowning, Madam Yu Bashing, Recovery, No war AU)

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17. Hi im looking for this fanfiction where wex turn into a kid and Lwj put him in little Lan robes that use to be a yuan. Then like Wei ying tried to drink the tea Lwj was drinking and spit it out and started banging his cup on the table singing. Then like Jin ling said he'll get the dog on wwx if he doesn't take a bath and wwx starts bawling yeah that one

FOUND? I think this one is 💖 sugar stains by lanjingyeet (T, 18k, wangxian, post-canon, de-aging, shenanigans, child WWX)

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18. Hi! I was wondering if you could help me find a fic please. It was a time travel fic I believe. In it WWX was killed by a mob of people while he was left alone and when LWJ found his body he held him until LQR came and yelled at him for doing so until LWJ cut his head off for shouting while WWX was sleeping. Any ideas? I read it when I first dived headfirst into the fandom and it got buried in the hundreds of fics I read like it. Help Please! @kasey1939​

Oh damn! I've read 18 but can't remember it either! 🤦🏽‍♀️😆 It wasn't that lwj killed lqr right away, he took wwx's body home and was looking after it like he was "just sleeping" then when lqr was like this is gross and has gone on long enough is when lwj kills him...

18 has been itching away at my brain for 2 days now! I'm pretty sure it would be ragged under time travel and the scene described is.. a vision? Glimpse that wwx observes after he has died/time travelled. Wwx died post canon I believe and the time travel is so that lwj never goes that dark... but this is only a small part of a larger fic :/ tricky tricky!

FOUND! Third Times the Charm by Kyerian and LadyLilyAnne (E, 117k, WangXian, Major Spoilers, Crossdressing, Happy Ending, Time Travel, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Minor Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Mentions of self-harm, Romance, Weddings)

NOT FOUND! they would call you my queen by HeavenlySkyfarer (E, 10k, wangxian, major character death, dark LWJ, decent to madness, royalty AU, murder, attempted rape/non-con, insanity, dark musical cultivation, ghost WWX, resurrection)

NOT FOUND! The Ones Left Behind by JaenysBloodcourt (T, 3k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, major character death, not Lan elder friendly, dark LWJ, dark LSZ, dark LXC, heavy angst)

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19. hey, hello! looking for two fics, and this is driving me nuts bc i read both of these not long ago and now I can’t find them anywhere. A) the first one is time travel, but the reader doesn’t find that out for sure until the end. it’s told from lwj’s pov, but it’s wwx who time travelled back to the day when he and the jaing arrived at cloud recesses. he goes back to the inn to get their invitation, and then never returns. lwj has never met him, but he’s deeply influenced by jyl’s desperation to find him, and he keeps looking for him, even as canon begins to diverge greatly. many years later he does run into wwx, who is living happily as a rogue cultivator with his son a’Yuan and their donkey. it ends with him joining them ofc

B) the second one, i’m kind of hazy on. it’s an au with shapeshifter clans. the lan are dragons, i think, not sure about the rest. one thing i remember is that jin and jaing (and yu maybe) attack wen (and nie?) unprovoked (i think wen ruohan is dead and wen xu is the sect leader), and the war is very different. the lan dont come into it until later, and they do it for the sake of the nie, I think? Anyway, wwx is unhappy abt the war, he advised against it, knows they’re in the wrong, but he’s loyal. Also, he’s full human, not a shifter, which is rare for a sect general. He and lwj clash on the battlefield, and they’re pretty well matched as long as lwj isn’t in his dragon form. They form a truce to help civilians out, try to stay out of each other’s way, and after the war ends, lwj asks for wwx as, idk, his prisoner or war prize or smth, but he does it to protect him. NOT jiang friendly, as i recall. if anyone recognizes either of these, i’d be so grateful 🙏

19A)

FOUND! Strange Regrets by sunrise_and_death (T, 6k, wangxian, time travel, angst w/ hopeful ending, everyone lives au)

19B)

FOUND! Crossing Paths by Ilona22 (M, 21k, wangxian, shapeshifter au, war between sects, not Jiang friendly, war crimes)

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20. I have a fic finder request if you don't mind :) The scene I remember is just after the Sunshot campaign and the Jin (I think?) have been holding Wen cultivator prisoners during their trials. WWX meets with a Wen prisoner scheduled to be executed who has agreed to give WWX his golden core and it turns out the Wen is A-Yuan's birth father. I remember that the transplant does occur and the man is executed and WWX and LWJ still end up AY's parents. Ring any bells? Thanks! @airmidcelt

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[ionlytalktodogs]

Sorry for the shameless self promo but I’m actually not sorry at all, here’s some quick descriptions for my fan fiction if anyone feels like they’d like some new fan fics to read.

The Art of Cooking - Literally horrible Breaking Bad x Hannibal crossover. Everyone is OOC, the plot is elaborately put together but barely explained, nothing makes sense but it’s super fun and also hilarious. Plot: Will decides he’s sick of the FBI and takes his adopted daughter and TOTALLY platonic roommate (who he sleeps with and kisses with tongue) Hannibal Lecter across the country to take a job at the DEA. Hilarity ensues. 27k words, was updating every Sunday but I just posted the finale today.

Shatter Me (And Bring Me Together Again) - Kind of my pride and joy. For once I’m actually attempting to be good at writing fan fiction? Gasp. Also tons of head canons. Will and Hannibal are T4T. You cannot tell me otherwise. There’s a lot of metaphors in this too and like...an actual message. Just you wait, shit’s gonna go off the rails in the coming chapters. Synopsis: Years after the Fall, Will and Hannibal are working as international assassins until they realize someone is trying to kill them, and Alana and Margot. The four of them have to figure out who, but can they even trust each other? 7k words uploaded but 20k words written (and yet I haven’t even gotten to the core of the plot yet lmao), updates every Monday.

We’re Conjoined, I’m Curious Whether Either of Us Can Survive Separation - Weird, probably poorly written Hannibal short stories. Wrote a lot of these while severely concussed. You can probably tell. Enjoy. 4k uploaded but 31k written. Updates when I feel like it.

You Belong to Me - First Hannibal fan fiction I ever wrote. I had just started the show a week prior and I was coping hard. Didn’t have a good handle on the show, my head canons, or anything really so it’s not consistent with the rest of my writing. Poorly written but I actually think the plot is a bit compelling when you really get into it so...idk. Wrote the entire thing in three weeks (and had not finished s3 when I wrote it but I went back and rewrote some bits after finishing s3). Plot: It’s just the plot of the show completely rewritten. 44k words, completed.

This Is Home - Batfamily one shots. Started writing this during 2020, when I was 16, because I was coping immensely with some horrible shit going on in my life. I doubt I’ll ever update it and I even privated it for a while but it’s public again by popular demand. Who knows, maybe some day I’ll update it. Or at least upload what the rest of what I wrote for it. It’s not my best work and I’m not proud of it but it brought me comfort in one of the worst times of my life so, if you feel like that’s something you need, enjoy. 4k words uploaded, 14k words written. Updates probably never but maybe someday.

Future fics to look out for:

Fugu - A Hannibal fan fiction I wrote entirely while very drunk. I have no idea what happens in it because I’m too afraid to reread it but if I ever get up the nerve then I’ll post it. My roommate read it and says it’s fantastic but I don’t trust him. 14k words, completed.

Adam - Literally just rewriting the movie Adam because I’m autistic and I felt like it could've been better but it kinda turned into a Hannibal AU. 1k words currently but I’m still working on it for whatever reason.

Meat and Bonbons - Wip name lmao. Blood and Chocolate x Hannibal...crossover? AU? God only knows. Will is a comic artist from America researching Lithuanian werewolves (Vilkacis). Hannibal is a Lithuanian werewolf. They fall in love. 5k words, I’m working on it. I’ll probably start uploading chapters when I have around 10k words.

Oh and in case you’re wondering, in total I’ve written around 140k words of Hannibal fan fiction since I was introduced to it in October. No I’m not okay.

[geraskierbrainrot]

This is a collection of modern AUs where Geralt, Jaskier, or both do porn

Do No Harm by @grassylampshade | E | 3k

“Why are you here?” Geralt’s voice is unbelievably deep, a growl that resonates differently in person than it does through Jaskier’s tinny laptop speakers. Jaskier clears his throat and says, “I need your help.”

Jaskier wants to improve his stamina and Geralt is willing to lend him a hand.

Socially Acceptable Ways to Meet Your Soulmate by @elpiething | E | 4k

Jaskier's parents weren't precisely keen on their oldest Omega child going to Oxenfurt to learn art. So they told him to pay off his own student debt. Which means they can't technically get mad at him for going in for a camera test at Vengeance Studios. - An AU where Alphas can't knot without medical assistance. Or their soulmate.

(we should just kiss) like real people do by @thewalrus-said | E | 6k

Jaskier is a dime-a-dozen independent porn star with a party trick. The mononymous Geralt, owner and star of Rivia Studios, is one of the greats in the industry. So Jaskier is a little surprised when Geralt contacts his agent to set up a scene together. Surprised, but very, very willing. (A porn stars AU.)

your two tongue kisses by @krytella | E | 7k

It’s not like Jaskier would want to be in the scenes with Geralt. That’s all highly choreographed, completely stripped of romanticism. No, what Jaskier fantasizes about is ridiculously sappy by anyone’s standards: kissing him, wrapping their bodies around each other in shapes that don't angle to the camera, running fingers through his hair, touching him when he’s not hard, or not to keep him hard, just for pure pleasure. Or: Jaskier is a porn cameraman and Geralt is his favorite performer. Probably not the porn AU you were looking for.

I Can't Take My Eyes Off You by JustSimpleThings | E | 7k

Jaskier is a porn star who can't stop staring at the fit new camera man. The situation spells 'trouble'.

boogie nights by spqr | E | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings | 8k

“This isn’t nothing.” His eyebrows draw together. “Jaskier. What happened?” Jaskier fists his hands in his own hair and contemplates pulling it out. “I got shot.” “Shot,” Geralt echoes, in a tone Jaskier’s never heard before. “Only a bit,” Jaskier hedges. “I took some vicodin, it’s perfectly fine. I can hardly feel it.”

Sweet by TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG | E | 8k

Sugar and Spice Witcher Bingo Prompt: rough

They Were Roommates by Nowaki | E | 11k

Geralt finds Jaskier’s porn. A surprising amount of the videos are about him.

Geraskier OnlyFans AU series by @ghostlyfallows | 19k

→ The Tower of the Swallow | M | 2k

The man had a very handsome face. His face wasn’t exactly a problem - Jaskier was used to keeping his cool in front of many beautiful and handsome people. The problem was this wasn’t the first time he’d seen this face. More specifically, the problem was: the last time Jaskier had seen this face, it was when he’d confirmed the $11.99 purchase for a month’s subscription to his OnlyFans.

Geralt opened his mouth - that mouth jesus holy fucking christ on a stick - and Jaskier stuck his hand out for a hand shake.

“Julian Pankratz,” he introduced himself, praying to whatever god was listening that his face hadn’t turned an embarrassing shade of red.

Judging from the look on Yennefer’s face, he wasn’t so lucky.

Geralt nodded, not betraying even a hint of a smile. He shook his hand back and answered in a gruff voice, “Geralt.”

But of course, Jaskier already knew that.

→ Baptism of Fire | E | 5k

A continuation of my previous fic, in which Geralt is an OnlyFans creator and Jaskier is his (simp) twitter manager

→ Weak and Wanting | E | 7k

Not surprisingly, Geralt didn’t budge. “Jaskier, how much have you had to drink?” he demanded after Jaskier’s palms bounced off of his chest. “It’s not the alcohol! I’m serious! It's like you have no understanding of the stages to these kinds of things. I’ve seen you naked and talked you through fucking yourself but I haven’t even kissed you yet.” Jaskier clapped a hand over his mouth. “On second thought, I didn’t say that. Stop it, Geralt, why are you laughing?” The corners of his mouth still twitched, but he did his best to hide his mirth for Jaskier’s sake. “So, you do want to kiss me?” Geralt’s head tilted to the side. Despite his confident posture, he seemed...stiff. He had the nerve to look embarrassed. Jaskier clenched his hands into fists. “Are you hesitating?” Jaskier seethed. “You’ve been playing all these games, but you have the nerve to be shy about it? Let me repeat myself, since you want to act all coy: I’ve seen your cock. You called me while you were - while you were fingering yourself to ask me to help. Why the hell are you looking at me like that? Of course I want to kiss you.”

→ Give Me One Good Movie Kiss (give me one good honest kiss and I'll be alright) | E | 4k

"It was...different from any other job he’d taken. Certainly a step up from backbreaking labor for minimum wage. At least he was making tips. He’d never worked a job with tips before. Geralt clicked his cellphone into the tripod by his bed and stripped his t-shirt over his head. He tossed it, along with his jeans and boxer briefs, into his clothing hamper in the corner. Usually, his audience liked a show. He’s learned to tease, make them wait, instead of turning the camera on fully nude with his cock hard in his hand. He got all dressed up just to slowly peel the clothes away. It was an art form, he’d learned over the past few months. Nothing like the clumsy or cheesy fumbling he believed it to be when he first signed up for an account. It was more like dancing. He’d never been good at dancing, but he was good at sex, and that counted for something in this profession." AKA The Bottoming Video from Geralt's POV

Electric Kisses and Lace by SweetestHoney | E | 21k

What Jaskier expected from parent-teacher night was some demanding parents, some stupid questions, and maybe some gossip about a few of the couples. What he got, however, was Geralt, father to one of his students, letting him know that he knew about Jaskier's second job and threatening to tell the school that Jaskier was a gay porn star. How does Jaskier handle this little revelation? Anything but gracefully, of course. Or that one where Jask is on onlyfans and Geralt calls him out on it, leading to the worlds stupidest morons being dumb at each other for 20,000 words straight.

Show love to all these authors by leaving kudos and comments, and happy reading!

[peeterparkr]

between lightning and thunder|harry styles.

summary: he’s your best friend’s boyfriend, you have feelings for him, you know the drill.

“In thunderstorms, you count the seconds in between the lightning and thunder, the more you counted the furthest the lightning had struck. 5 seconds equals 1 mile. In matters of the heart, and considering this situation. The more you counted, the closer you were.” 

word count: 7k

pairing: Harry Styles x reader

warnings: alcohol mention, a bit sad, Little Prince, some songs. 

PART TWO: thunderstorms and shooting stars PART THREE: stars and fate

So, here’s my first official Harry Styles one shot (kind of two-part one shot), thanks to @peachybloomss and @laurieteddy for helping me out with beta reading. Yes, there will be part two if you guys want it. I’ll see if you like it, please send feedback, reblog, be kind. 

The rain pattered against the asphalt, now bright and dense, reflecting the tinkling lantern that barely gave an excuse of light to the street. There you were, in that corner, shading the sidewalk with those sneakers that used to be white. You were getting wet, that was an understatement, you  knew you would have a cold the very next day. You clutched your dark blue umbrella as you waited for a miracle.

You saw the sky light up and counted the seconds.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

The lightning struck with such a crash it made you shiver.

It seemed like it was the worst day of your life. It probably wasn't, but that's how it felt. It is difficult to understand why a relationship ends. It’s even more difficult to understand when you’re an outsider. You were not one, though, not really. You wished you were. 

Your best friend’s boyfriend, now ex. Probably ex. 

Harry. 

You saw him, right outside of the building where you were supposed to be in, leaning to give a shoulder to your friend. You would, of course. 

But you wondered what would happen if you didn’t. If you instead went to him. Of course the imagination can go as wild as we let it go but this was just not what you needed. 

Harry. 

It felt weird, and you didn’t know if she’d seen her. He was pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to breathe in. They’d probably had another fight. One of those loud arguments where both of them made absolutely no sense at all. The relationship both of them were fighting for but there was barely any relationship to be saved at all. 

Harry. 

There are secrets in life we all like to keep. This was one you’d kept for a long while right now. 

But you didn't know how longer you could keep it. You were in love with your best friend’s boyfriend. Probably ex now. Who wouldn’t be? 

It was the same old story, coming of age kind of story with no happy ending whatsoever and which led to this absolute mess, with every day your feelings growing deeper. It was your fault for becoming so close to him. 

You saw him again, cursing at the rain as his hair was soaking, he only cursed between his teeth again as he was debating whether or not to go back into the building, he kicked the puddle forming in front of him and groaned. That’s when he saw you. 

With your dark blue umbrella, and coat. Calmly watching him, not moving, not doing anything at all. 

You wondered if he knew. 

If he’d ever notice how your eyes brightened up when he was in the room. Maybe he had, all those years, with you in the shadows. 

When you met him, him sitting down with some friends, they’d introduced you to one of his, and Sierra had insisted on pairing you up with that guy. Teenage years, when one escapes to parties and tries not to come back home drunk for your parents to notice. A Halloween party, you’d dressed up as Wednesday Addams, he’d dressed up as Elton John. 

You had noticed him first, his green eyes had crossed with yours. It wasn’t really his zone, it had seemed. Sierra had caught his eyes, though. 

You barely remembered anything from that party, it was like any other party from that time. Drunk teenagers, gathering around to smoke and play a bare excuse of beer pong. 

It had been raining but it had stopped, that you could remember. You had gone outside, tired from the buzzing music that you could barely recognize, just loud strums and unnecessary words put together. Songs talking about material things and partying. Not feelings. 

You remembered walking outside to the wet grass and you avoided some other people making out on the floor, Britney Spears making out with Frankenstein, that was something. Some other kids yelling through their phones as they assured their parents they weren’t drunk when they clearly stung like warm cheap beer. 

You didn’t remember why you had walked out. But you did remember seeing him there, too. 

“Got bored of the games?” He asked you, he was leaning against the wall. 

There it was, the reason you went outside. He had intrigued you, why hadn’t he stayed with his friends? Why was he staring at the night sky? Was he that drunk? 

You had crossed a few words with him throughout the party, nothing important or particular. Very… forgettable. You’d played beer pong against him and his friend, the one Sierra had insisted that he liked you. 

But nothing too important. 

However you’d seen him walk out. It had awakened something in you. 

“I’m terrible at beer pong,” you admitted. “Not even risking playing.” 

“That’s the fun of beer pong, though,”  he commented. “Ge’ing your ass drunk enough.” 

You chuckled. “Well why aren’t you playing anymore?” 

“I’m too good,” he sassed. “Ain’t nothin’ fun in that,” he pointed out. “So, Wednesday Addams, huh?” 

“Yes,” you smirked. “Be afraid, be very afraid.” 

“You’re too smiley to be Wednesday, very pretty smile,” he grinned. 

“Thanks, Elton,” you grinned. You didn’t know if the warmth in your body was from embarrassment or if it was the effect the alcohol was having on you.

He winked at you. “So, no beer pong for me.” 

You rolled your eyes, and laughed a little. “I’m sure that’s not the reason why you’re here outside, your friends are having fun.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I just came here to see the sky—That sounds so pretentious.” 

“It does,” you conceded. “But I’ll give it to you, it’s pretty, can’t judge you, I partly came outside for it, too.” Although you hadn’t. It was no secret his eyes had staggered in your mind for the whole night and that the constant smiling had caught your attention. 

He had smiled, you still remembered it to this day. “Haven’t had a clear sky in days,” he commented. 

You shrugged, “haven’t noticed.” 

“You haven’t noticed,” he sounded incredibly offended, “didn’t you miss this?” He pointed at the sky, he was just slightly tipsy you could tell. “The stars?” 

That had made you smile and even laugh. “Oh, yes. I missed it, I just hadn’t realized how much.” 

“You hadn’t noticed how much you missed this beautiful night sky!” His movements were big, hands up in the air. He even caused some of the other teenagers to stop making out. 

“Shh! You’ve interrupted them!” You pointed out as the couple walked away angrily. 

“Tha’s great! Look at the sky fellas!” He reached out for them. 

You laughed. “Oh my god.” 

“Huh, they can be horny teens else here. Why ruin m’moment with the sky and a beautiful girl,” he grinned at you. “This only happens in the movies!” He yelled again. 

You couldn’t help but blush and cling to the red cup in your hand. He was drunk. 

“In the movies though, the guy isn’t as drunk,” you mocked. 

“I’m not even that drunk love,” he said. “I’m just concerned how you haven’t noticed the stars.” 

“I had noticed the moon was gone,” you admitted. “Bigger fan of the moon, alright?,” you said. “Right up there, see it?” 

“She’s gorgeous,” he grinned. You stared at it, bright and round, and you turned to him shining bright enough in his nose. “She’s the love of my life,” he stated. 

You had chuckled. “It’s a shame she disappears once every month.” 

“She’s reborn,” he chuckled. “Maybe we should learn from ‘er, huh?” 

“Really?” 

“Each month she rises up again and she’s beautiful in each one of her stages,” he commented, “no matter if she’s on her way to the darkness, she’s stunning.” 

You only scrunched your nose. “We’re getting a bit too poetic, are we?” 

He laughed. “Maybe,” he admitted. 

“I’m kidding, I like that,” you’d said. “We should all be like the moon.” 

“Hm, but if we were, who’d be the stars,” he commented. “It’s funny, we take the stars for granted but y’know what?” He chuckled. “Each one of ‘em is very particular.” 

“No one would notice if a star was gone,” you pointed out. 

“I would, the sky would look sadder,” he said. “And even if I love the moon, everyone does really, the stars are what paint the night sky so beautifully.” 

“Well the moon works hard to be seen,” you grinned. “I think we should compliment her effort.” 

“What about the stars? They’re so far away yet they’re freckling the dark sky,” he smiled and then turned to you.“This does feel like a movie scene, innit?” 

“A bit, yeah.” 

“It’s not one,” he added. “Or else you would’ve kissed me.” 

You coughed, blushing. You had felt butterflies. The kind of butterflies that hadn’t disappeared in all those years. “Yeah, it’s not—Not a movie scene.” 

You should’ve kissed him, though. But he hadn’t kissed you either so maybe that was the answer you needed.

“Is it the Wednesday Addams in you?” He wondered with a chuckle. 

“Maybe,” you shrugged, trying to get as serious as you could. 

He blushed. “What would you do if a guy worshiped and adored you? Who'd do anything for you? Who'd be your devoted slave? Then what would you do?” 

“I’d pity him,” you quoted Wednesday. 

He laughed. “You do know her, great.” He kept staring at the sky. “It would be great if a shooting star passed by, would add to it.” 

“Shooting stars, are they like the moon?” You asked.

He chuckled. “No, they’re one of a kind and shall be treasured. If you miss your shot then it’s gone, you should take the chance when you get it.” 

“Never thought of it that way,” you admitted.”hm who would’ve thought a drunken teenager dressed as Elton John would teach me of this.” 

“A wise drunk teenager dressed as Elton John,” he corrected. “You’re a lil’ bit tipsy yourself huh.”

You grinned. “Yeah, just a little.” 

“Besides, you proved my point!” He chipped. “You hadn’t noticed the stars!” 

You smiled. “Now I will, I guess, thanks Elton.” 

“I love the stars,” he pointed out. “Shame they’re barely seen.

“The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart,” you said. 

“The Little Prince,” he grinned. “You know that book?” 

“Everyone knows it,” you chuckled. “But yes, it’s my favorite.” 

“But everyone barely does,” he grinned. “It’s my favorite book, too, read it each year.” 

“Me too,” you beamed. “Helps me out when I’m lost.” 

“I always learn something,” he said. 

You grinned. 

“I’m Harry,” he had introduced himself to you. “Harry Styles.” 

And it rolled on the top of your tongue every now and then, that named you crushed and cursed. It had lingered until now. Of course his stupid name was perfect, too. 

You should’ve kissed him or ran along with his—had he attempted to flirt? Was he trying that? You knew you had liked him. One of those stupid connections, like he’d said. It had felt like one, one of those coming of age films. But it wasn’t. 

Short conversation that you couldn’t quite put your head to it. Didn’t make any sense, if you were honest. You should’ve kissed him, and to this day you still wondered what would’ve happened if you had. 

The story of how Harry and Sierra had officially met was his favorite to tell. He’d say it over and over, how a beautiful girl dressed like Puglsey Addams, because of course best friends always match, had accidentally ran to him and he’d spilled his drink on her moments after meeting you. How he had helped her in the bathroom to clean herself and they’d instantly laughed. How he had fallen in love with her the second he’d met her. 

Funny. 

They had walked out of that party, they’d probably gone for a walk. You remembered it. How since that day you couldn’t stop thinking about him. 

How since that day you always stared at the night sky and watched the stars. 

Funny thing, he was the one to call you out for being in love with the moon and never paying attention to the stars, yet he had never noticed you. Taken you for granted. 

You couldn’t blame him, after all, the moon was the love of his life. 

You’d grown fonder of him, and Sierra had made sure you both got along. 

“My best friend and my boyfriend have to get along.” 

You shouldn’t have, though. Because with time you both were hanging out a friendship was forming, from his side. And then a growing feeling in yours. 

Had he ever noticed? 

Each time Sierra dragged him so you wouldn’t feel left out, but it was counterproductive because you’d fall for him. Because it seemed that his jokes were just made for you, and you couldn’t help but think that you were meant to be. 

Maybe he’d noticed that time near her birthday, years ago, when he’d call you to bake cookies together for your friend. He probably had noticed then. Maybe he had felt something, too. 

Licking a spoonful of cookie dough, and laughing against each other, how he would hide his smile, and how he’d give you those shy green eyes before avoiding a laugh when you’d said a very bad joke. 

How both of you were tiptoeing and dancing in the kitchen, music playing loud, as you were sitting on the counter and he leaned against it, scrolling on his phone as he played songs. 

“Okay, so this,” Harry had said, “this is one of my favorites,” he said before a guitar started to play. 

“The Zombies, She’s not there!” You guessed quickly. “A classic, please, you have to be kidding me, play something difficult.” 

“How do you know it?” Harry frowned, jokingly turning to you. “I swear—“

“I love them, what do you mean?” You chuckled. 

“But you’ve guessed every single song I’ve played,” he pointed out very dramatically. “Every single one, I swear Sierra wouldn’t have guessed one.” 

“Sierra has bad taste in music,” you pointed out. “I love her, but really, but she’s got great taste in cookies so she’ll love this.” 

Because you knew him. Sierra dated him but you knew him. And sometimes you wondered how Sierra couldn’t really see his magic. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about it, back then, how you fit so well together. How your laugh would synchronize with his and how every single joke he’d make, no matter how stupid, was funny to you. The way you’d try to hide some smiles, and how the tension would be broken when she arrived. She whom he loved. 

A usual friend. Should’ve remained as friends. You still were. You felt dirty each time they looked at each other, it hurt, so much. And they talked too cute, and they were always adorable. 

You had to stop thinking about him. 

Except you loved him, and you had realized it, that one time, around Christmas, one of those Christmas parties that you always had with your friends in which eventually Harry had joined in. You remembered how you got his name in Secret Santa. 

Cozy night it was, they were cuddling each other. 

You remembered how he had opened it, Love is a Dog From Hell by Charles Bukowski, a book he’d constantly mentioned, a book he loved. He had thanked you and hugged you and it had been the perfect Christmas present. 

You knew that. 

You saw them, kissing under that mistletoe that he’d jokingly placed on top of them. You wished you were her. Sierra being pretty and lovely. And Sierra having him. 

But then he’d decided to give everyone presents, maybe for accepting him on your Christmas party, or whatever he meant. How he was the life in the party, and how he had made you smile. 

And everyone got presents, and each of them proved how much he put thoughts into it, because he really wanted to make them. How he had given that one friend some brushes so they could paint, or a new camera to that other one. 

You remembered how perfectly unevenly wrapped yours was, with that silly wrapping paper that had  little Santas on it. He probably had wrapped it himself, you could see how it was cut, and the tape all over it, with a hand-made bow, so pretty. It felt warm, and it felt like him. You opened it, he told you you could rip it off, and you hadn't, you had so slowly opened it, you still kept that wrapping paper to this day.  The Little Prince. As if he was joking with you. 

He had only winked at you, probably unaware that he was digging a deeper way into your heart. 

And you kept loving him, watching him from afar as they kissed over and over again. 

How you’d help her with gifts for him, when his own birthdays came around, like when you told her to give him more rings for his fingers, because you knew him. And how he would share his news with you first because he knew you’d listen. 

You wondered if Sierra ever noticed he was more than the guy who had nice clothes, and the guy with that pretty smile. Did she ever stop to listen to his thoughts? Those that came at 2 in the morning. Those you’d been able to listen to at a party, where both of you were away from the crowd as Sierra was partying with some other of your friends. 

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Harry had asked you, that New Years party. They had kissed at midnight, of course. He had brought his guitar, a new habit that he had earned over the time. You loved every time he sang, raspy and quiet. Over the years he’d sing more and more with you, and less and less with crowds. He thought nobody wanted to listen, you did, you always wanted to listen. 

You only looked up to see her, she was. Dancing as the lights were jumping around with her, the music bouncing with her. Harry had his fingers brushing against the strings, barely stroking it, as he was so mesmerized watching Sierra. You always wanted to be seen that way, you never would. 

You could never be Sierra, and of course, why would Harry ever turn to love someone like you? When Sierra was so perfect and lovely. 

You’d never say anything, maybe Sierra did notice. But she trusted you. 

“Yeah,” you had answered. You had been cold. 

He could tell, you knew that. 

“You’re cold,” he pointed out matter-of-factly. 

“I am,” you admitted. “Tis cold, though.” 

“You’re never cold, though,” he pointed out. 

“I am today.” 

“I’m not cold,” he had said. “Want my jacket?” 

And he had given it to you, and Sierra had seen it. And she didn’t mind. Because Sierra trusted you, and she trusted him. 

So she didn’t mind when Harry had taken your hand to shove you into the dancefloor with him. Sierra had said it once: ‘he sees you as a best friend, I think he’s claiming you’. 

And you remembered being silly while dancing with him, how he put his hands in fists and shook them in front of his chest, giggling to himself, and gave you that damned smile. And by then by that time you aready had your own way with him, always singing to each other, being stupid really. 

Heroes by Bowie was playing, a song he loved, and you did too. 

“Just for one day.” 

You still thought it was your song.

And though you were the one to wear the sweater, she’d be the one to go home with him. So in love. It didn’t matter. 

But life goes on, the birds sing, the sun keeps rising.

It had been a long time since you thought of him that way, he was just one more, another broken heart. And you knew it, that life does not stop, she did not either. And crying for a love that never had a chance to be sounds foolish, insensitive and useless.

At some point you did move on. Because you had to, and you wanted it to pass but then it would always come, how he’d smile at you and you’d think of it, the start that one time when you should’ve done something. 

And it was weird listening to Sierra talk about him, she was so desperately in love with him. That’s what mattered, they made each other happy. And so, so happy. And though it hurt, you knew it had to be that way. 

You were the one to listen to both of them, whenever they had a small fight or whatever, both sides. You usually agreed with both, honestly, but always took Sierra’s side. She was your best friend, after all. 

And you couldn’t tell the world that he made you oh so happy, and you new Sierra probably didn’t even think of it, because you weren’t obvious and you had dates of your own, you dated other people of course, but you always ended up wondering what would happen between you and Harry. 

It probably didn’t ever occur to Sierra. Not to Harry either, probably. Because everything was so platonic. Like when he picked you up in the middle of the night just because he wanted to drive around the city, whenever him and Sierra had a fight and he needed to understand her and he knew that the way to understand her was through you. And you’d end up sitting on the trunk of his car, watching the stars, listening to him, making him laugh until the sun was rising. 

You knew everything about him, meaning behind every single tattoo, favorite movie, favorite song. You always had to stop yourself, so patient, but sometimes you couldn’t help it, your hand would brush his hair and you’d think about it, if you could only kiss him. Would it feel the way you dreamed of it? 

An indentation between you and him, always stepping back. But then he’d smile at you and you’d want to close it. Please, please, please, just once. How would it feel? To seal the notch, close the gap.

And once it had happened. Nothing serious, really. A few years ago, around spring, nothing serious. Not at all. It was an accident. 

Really was, of course.  

Harry had been excited about Spring, and Sierra always said that whenever spring came around love was in the air, and Harry wanted to plan out a picnic for Sierra so of course he asked for your help. 

It had been so stupid, an accident. He had asked you to go to the supermarket with him, and you were prancing around, laughing and having fun. He was always so sweet when it came to be so domestic. He was singing in the hallways as he was choosing the pastries, picking out the wine. 

“Something in the way she moves,” he sang along to the song, hand movements as he reached out for a feeling with his hand, exaggerated movements as he threw his head back. 

“The Beatles,” you said, matter of factly. But you knew the Beatles weren’t singing that version. It didn’t feel like a usual supermarket song, but he was moving his head and singing. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “However, they’re not the-”

“Not the ones singing, I know, that’s a woman,” you answered before he could fight back. 

He giggled, “Yea, this is Phyllis Dillon,” he pointed out. “Such a song. I’m impressed, y/n, you didn’t know her.” 

“Didn’t, now I do,” you grinned. “Unusual song for the supermarket.”

He watched you, tiredly with that bright smile that could light up the entire world. Sunlight. 

“This is going to sound rude,” he said. 

You raised your brows at him. 

“But like, if Sierra and I ever break up who’s gonna keep you?” He joked. 

You had laughed. “Like a dog?” 

He scrunched his nose. “I didn’t mean it that way.” 

“Oh, I’m most certain you did,” you teased. 

“Did not.” 

“Well I don’t think you guys will break up,” you had said, and you had meant it, because you really didn’t want them to. He made your best friend happy and your best friend made him happy. All that matters. 

He smiled, “you think?” 

“Yeah, I’m making sure you don’t,” you winked at him. “Also, that wine, Harold?” You asked before putting it back and choosing a better one. 

“Thanks for helping me,” he had said. “Y’er always such a good friend.” 

“Just making sure everything is—“

“Perfect for Sierra, I kno’,” he smirked. “And you always make sure tis perfect for me too.” 

You grinned. “I'm the mastermind behind the relationship.”

And the problem was he had leaned over to kiss your cheek, you guessed in an attempt to thank you for being a friend, but it had been an accident or maybe you had turned to him, subconsciously longing for your lips to meet his. Barely a peck. Yet it had felt… electric. As if a lightning had just struck you. 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

Four. 

And he had backed away. 

Had he felt it? That buzzing and flickering spark? That thunder You’d kissed. 

In a grocery store. Planking a picnic for his girlfriend. Your best friend. This was wrong. 

“I’m—sorry,” both of you had said at the unison. 

“I—was going to—“

“I didn’t know—“

But both of you knew it had been four seconds. It’s funny, someone had once taught you to count the seconds between thunders and lighting. In thunderstorms, you count the seconds in between the lightning and thunder, the more you counted the furthest the lightning had struck. 5 seconds equals 1 mile. 

In matters of the heart, and considering this situation. The more you counted, the closer you were. 4 seconds had been until he had pulled away. 

4 stupid seconds. 

Could mean a lot of things, could mean nothing. 

Harry and you had stopped talking for a while after it happened. Neither of you told Sierra, but she had noticed you were avoiding her boyfriend which brought her to doubt him. No she didn’t think you had kissed. She thought you had fought or whatever she had come up with. 

“Don’t you like Harry anymore? Why are you not hanging out with us anymore?” She had asked you. 

“Maybe I don’t want to third-wheel anymore,” you snapped. “Enjoy your boyfriend, Sierra. I don’t have to be around twenty four seven.” 

That’s when the problems had started. Not between you and Sierra, but him and Sierra. It was no secret you had been the “mastermind” behind their relationship. But you had walked out of there. However it had been coincidental, or so you told yourself. It didn’t really have much to do with you walking out. 

Or had it? 

You had guessed you’d feel that way each night, with the light of your phone illuminating your face while the dark room paled your tears. You’d see his initial on the screen, and doubt if calling was a choice. He was never a talker, really. He barely liked to speak up. He was more of...actions. So whenever he didn’t do anything, you knew something was up. He wasn’t... really, he wasn’t like this. 

At least a text but he didn’t like texting. Nothing. His silent treatments were like others. The ‘H’ is silent, you thought to yourself. 

Funny.

Sierra had mentioned he had been distanced. It was around the time you started dating Daniel. Danny.

And you saw Sierra arguing over and over through the phone, and coming back crying to your shared apartment. Giving her your shoulder to cry on.

She said that Harry had told her he wasn’t sure about it. 

Which led to the first breakup. 

One that didn’t really last. But you remembered it perfectly, you were at a museum, date with Danny. Nice, romantic. 

And then you’d received a call, Harry. He hadn’t called you in a while and you weren’t sure why he had called you. 

You had looked down at the caller ID. He wasn’t a texter, you knew that, but—you answered the phone. 

“Hello? Harry?” You answered, with fear. 

Danny hadn’t questioned you. 

“Sierra and I broke up,” he stated. 

You felt cold. “Oh.” Your first instinct had been to call your friend. See if she was okay. 

“I—“he sighed. “I… can I see you?” 

“I—sure but—“

“Okay, I’ll pick you up in ten,” he said. “Please don’t—“

“Oh, Harry I’m on a date right now.” 

“You—what?” 

“Yes I’m here with Danny,” you had said. “On a date.” 

He had gone quiet, dangerously quiet. 

“But-I’ll call you when I get home, alright?” 

“Yeah.” 

When you got home, Sierra had her door locked and didn’t want to talk to you. 

“I need some time alone.” 

And you had called Harry but he hadn’t answered. 

One. 

Two. 

Three.

Four calls until he answered. Before you knew it, you were with him, driving again, he liked to drive, you knew that. To watch a sunset. As they said in The Little Prince, you see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad.

And he was sad, and he was quiet. ‘Could it Be Another Chance’ by The Samples was playing in the background. 

“I guess Sierra told you,” he had said, gulping. 

“She didn’t,” you said. 

He hadn’t dared to look at you. It felt weird, you hadn’t talked to him a while and seeing him standing there with tears wanting to come down. 

He coughed. “Well.” 

“What happened?” You didn’t know. 

He hadn’t answered, and there was that usual frown upon his face, thoughtful, very thoughtful and dark if he wanted it to be. He was sad or disappointed. You didn’t blame him, of course, breakups are hard enough. 

“Dunno,” he admitted. Endless nightmare when he didn’t actually say what he wanted to. He actually had that habit, but he usually showed it, with his eyes. 

“Then?” 

“Are you afraid of me, y/n?” He blurted out the question. 

“Why would I?” 

“Not in the--scary way,” he said quickly. “But in the way that we both know each other,” he said. “The way that it feels off.” 

“I’ve never felt off with you,” you admitted. 

“That’s the thing,” he sighed. “That’s the thing,” he repeated. “I don’t get it,” he said. 

“Did you feel off with Sierra?” You asked. 

He didn’t answer. Maybe he should’ve. 

“We haven’t talked for a while so I have no inkling on where you were standing,” you admitted. “Not from Sierra’s perspective, either.” 

He shook his head. “That’s the thing,” he said for the third time. “That’s the thing.” 

He had only turned the music louder, and sang along to it. 

“Danny, then?” He asked eventually. “Danny?” 

“Yeah,” you said. 

“And do you feel off with him?” He asked. 

“I don’t.” 

He had clenched his jaw.  “Is it going anywhere?” He asked. “Or is it like any other guy you’ve dated?”

“No.” 

“You like him, right?” He asked. 

You smiled, slightly, feeling warm on your cheeks. “I-” 

“When someone blushes, doesn't that mean 'yes’?” He asked. 

You didn’t answer. 

“I’m just, I’ve been wondering I’ve always wanted to feel with Sierra the same way I feel with you,” he had said. “Not in-” 

“Harry that’s-” 

“Sounds mental, doesn’t it?” He sighed. “To want a friend in someone you love.” 

“Someone you love should be a friend,” you said. “But I…” 

“Did you ever wonder about it?” 

“About what?” 

He shrugged. “If that night I had ran into Wednesday instead of Pugsley.” 

“You did run into me,” you pointed out. “It just wasn’t meant to be.” 

“Yeah, could’ve been.” 

But it had you thinking. Maybe it  had been stupid, but you had broken up with Danny after a few weeks of thought. Or maybe led Danny to break up with you because you had been off. And it had felt off, and it hadn’t but with one simple question Harry had made, it had you thinking. 

And maybe it was stupid to think that now that Harry and Sierra had broken up you could simply get your shot, but he had been the one to say it, hadn’t he? 

Shooting stars are chances. And he was one and you hadn't taken it. 

Just after you’d walk in to your apartment with Sierra, you’d seen them kissing again. They were back together. 

So there was your chance, gone again but then again it was stupid to think that you could get a shot, besides it was Sierra’s boyfriend. 

Yes, heartbroken you were. 

And it continued, for a long while. They were fine again and you had to be quiet again. Halloween, Spring, New Years, Christmas, Birthdays, parties, every single season they were there. All the time. And they were fine. For most of the time, other times not so much, and the second, and third breakup came around. Yet, they always got back together, even with all the fighting and yelling which you never understood, not really. Why would anyone stay in a relationship like that? 

You guessed that at the end of the day they still loved each other, and their fights were simply stupid and they always, always, always got over them. You didn’t, you remembered them yelling and fighting and just searching for an excuse to stay together, and then they’d kiss and forget it and they’d be calmed. 

It still ached, to have him around nd think of the stupid ‘what if’ that would certainly never come because even if you were given the chance, you’d never take it because Sierra was and would always be your best friend. 

Did she know? Had she seen it? The way your world stopped when Harry was around? How you’d make time for him or how whenever he was around you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Your bright and true smile, and how you’d listen to every song he told you to, or how you’d always be there to listen to him, no matter the time. 

How you looked away each time they kissed and how you wished you could find someone like him and yet it wouldn’t be enough because it wouldn’t be him. Because his mind was the place where you wanted all your secrets to be hidden. His lips were the only one thing that could make you feel, or so you thought, that could make you get to paradise. His voice was supposed to tell your story, and his ears were meant to listen to you. 

Yet, it was Sierra. 

Not you. 

Sierra. 

And Harry would tell her. He loved her, he lived for her, spared his entire life and love for her. And though you knew they weren’t happy, you wondered if you were allowed to tell them. Maybe you were biased, and you did hear them say how they loved each other but then it… You could tell it was off. 

The moment you had given up had been barely a few weeks ago, finally given up. You remembered how he had asked for your help. 

“I’m picking out a ring, y/n.” 

“Another one?” You had chuckled. “You’ll need more fingers, Harold.” 

“For Sierra.” 

“Oh, she’s not really a ring person-” you had started. 

“No, I… y/n I’m asking her to marry me,” he had blurted. 

You had paused. 

“Seems like it’s time,” he said. “And she’s been hintin’ it. Doesn’t get any better than this.” 

It hurt. But you had gone with him. 

Walking through the store, seeing rings and rings, jewelry.

“I dunno anything ‘bout marriage,” he admitted. “It’s ironic, I love rings yet this one I can’t seem to know….” 

“This one is pretty,” you had pointed out at one. 

He had made a face, scrunching his nose. Always making faces.

“Why are you doing this?” You had questioned. 

He had looked up at you. He knew why you were asking. Because things hadn’t been right but he probably thought this was the way to make things right, but he probably wanted you to question him. Harry couldn’t be tied, yet this seemed like he was tying himself. 

It made you sad, how he had lost what made him oh so beautiful, oh so perfect. His freedom. He was willing to take away his freedom. Not because marriage per se was taking away someone’s freedom but for Harry this particular decision seemed like it was. 

He didn’t smile anymore, not that much, he wasn’t as silly. 

“She’s my moon,” he had said. 

“Yet I remember you were a bigger fan of the stars,” you had called him out. 

“The shooting star passed, y/n, this is what’s meant to happen, I lost a shooting star, but I love the moon,” he said. “The moon is meant to be loved.” 

“Marriage won’t solve your problems.” 

“I know, but it might make me get back to my senses, I’ve spent all these years with her, I love her, that’s it, no other explanation, and that’s--” 

“Harry.” 

“it is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important,” he quoted. 

“Love doesn’t mean wasting time.” 

And the conversation had continued and you kept playing it over and over your head, and tried to understand if this was your fault, which you were sure led to the fourth breakup, to the one you probably were witnessing now. 

To this day, of you standing with your dirty sneakers, with two options. To offer a shoulder or to finally try and fight for something that probably would never work. To risk everything for once. 

Standing with your umbrella, watching him staring at you. Wondering what could’ve happened if it had been Wednesday instead of Pugsley. Wondering what would’ve happened if you kissed him. Wondering what would’ve gone by had you made a wish to that shooting star. 

You were willing to do it. Risk it all to count the seconds between the lightning and the thunder. 

-

part two: thunderstorms & shooting stars

part three: stars and fate

I’ll tag some friends who might like this: 

@saintlavrents @annathesillyfriend @tanyalooovesyou @harrysrightchelseaboot @harrysleftchelseaboot @wholesomestyles @whatevsholland @eerieharrie​ @pparkeramorr​

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Fic Rec Fridays 12/17

Alright, coming in a little late with this one, but you guys seemed to enjoy the last one so I’m continuing this series with a little Bagginshield and a little Nandermo.

BAGGINSHIELD

Child of Earth and Sky by orphan_account- Mult-chapter 22/22, 140K+, Rating: M

Summary: Certain events in Bilbo’s life were always destined to come to pass, but the will of Belladonna Took is not to be trifled with, and her choice may yet change the lives of many.

This is the story of how Bilbo became the kin of the Eagles of Manwë, and all that happened after.

Why I Recommend: Honestly, I’m a little embarrassed I’ve never read this one before now after seeing fanart for it on tumblr for a couple of years now, but I love the culture explorations of the Eagles of Manwë and its honestly just a badass story.

Reaper of heart by ahenid- One-shot, 7K+, Rating: M

Summary: Thorin is a reaper, that is, someone who refused to be reborn. His task is to convince souls to go to the Other Side, to stand in front of Mahal and be given the Choice. Most of them wish to go and forget their previous life, whereas others, like him, prefer to keep their memories and serve their god.

And then there is Bilbo Baggins, a soul mysteriously clinging to the realm of the living, and who Thorin is strangely drawn to.

Why I Recommend: Just read this one this morning actually! Love the concept! Beautiful AU setup and perfect reveal at the end. PLEASE BE CAREFUL WITH THIS ONE THOUGH! SENSITIVE MATERIAL SUCH AS CHARACTER SUICIDE IS IN THIS ONE!

new morning by vtforpedro- One-shot, 11K+, Rating: M

Summary: In which Bilbo doesn't like living in a world where soulmates exist. Maybe it's because his own seemingly doesn't want to be found after a long while spent looking for them, but it turns out his soulmate is not all that far away, and his search for Bilbo is immortalized in stone.

Why I Recommend: If you guys don’t know this about me already, I am an absolute sucker for soulmate AUs! And I love little twists in them as well. This one is just so down to earth with such realistic reactions. I love it! And would read 100K of it if it existed!

NANDERMO

the lion’s devotion (the lamb’s downfall) by UnfortunatelyObsessed- One-shot, 20K+, Rating: M

Summary: Guillermo pauses, eyes wide. He tries to say something. He can’t.

“I killed a man because he made me angry. I have done this— many times.”

“That’s— that’s a mortal sin, you—““I do not wish to be absolved. I want to know why. Why do I feel this… this ache where my soul should be?”

Guillermo’s breath shakes as he exhales. The grate is thin, so thin that a determined man could crash through it and wrap hands around his neck, force the life out of him. “You feel guilt.”

“Why now? Why at all? Why— fuck-ing hell.” The last bit comes out as a pained gasp, and Guillermo can see the man’s head duck, his shoulders hunch. “Can we do this outside? It hurts in here.”

Why I Recommend: Oh my gosh. OH MY GOSH! THIS FIC RIGHT HERE! It’s incredible! The blossoming love between Guillermo and Nandor is so... 👌 And not going to lie, got strong Castlevania vibes from the religious ideology that God exists and is on the opposite side of creatures of the night, but that churches and the people who run them can still be corrupted. Just an AMAZING story summed up in 20K words.

Nandor the Restless by LuluBear- One-shot, 3K+, Rating: T

Summary: Nandor the Relentless was fully aware he was dead. He died as he lived, relentlessly persuing his enemies and slaughtering them for the glory of Al Quolanudar. However as he stood, ripped away from his peaceful slumber, he realised it seems that his body hadn't gotten the memo and was therefore going to be dubbed Nandor the Restless.

Why I Recommend: I am all on board with the Nandor Ghost having a boner for Guillermo trope!  😆 And this is by far my favorite one! Not just because Ghost!Nandor is like ‘great, I’ve become an idiot’, but I love that he is like ‘oh look at this hot piece of warrior ass I keep around, I sure hope I’m banging that’.

 Transcendent Heart by foxymandy3100- WIP 1/?, 2K+, Rating: T

Summary:  One minute Guillermo had been protecting his master from witches, the next he was hurdling back over 700 years in the past. He landed in the war-devastated ruins of a town being pillaged by the Persian army. He was captured and held prisoner. What does the Nandor of the past intend to do with him and how will he get home?

Why I Recommend: Okay...okay. So normally, I don’t recommend fics that are just getting started because you never know if the author is going to lose interest...*cough, cough, calling myself out here* but I had to try this one because it looked so interesting and I am HOOKED! I’m so excited to keep up with this one and hope they will continue because it is an AWESOME AU!