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bokettochild · 2 days ago
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đŸŽ¶For the twelfth day of Christmas, my Ketto gave to me-đŸŽ¶
Closure!!!!!
So, I've been talking about this for a fair bit now and debating the logistics, and I have decided to do it: A Christmas of Closure!
I have so many unfinished/on hiatus fics, some that never got past the first part, and this is my effort to (1) relieve myself of the guilt of not finishing them and (2) give a bit of closure to the readers who still wanted more from the story.
How does it work? You guys can choose any story of mine that you wanted to see more of, and the first twelve will get a little love this holiday season, with me posting one update every day leading up to Christmas, and ending on Christmas day with either whatever I was most excited to share, or what took me the longest and I needed more time for LOL
They key to this is that it's stories I've already started, so rather than spending half my writing time trying to figure out what it's going to be about, I'll hopefully just be giving words to something that's sat in my brain for the last few months/years. I'll get to share with you what was supposed to happen, while maybe jump-starting my own creative process so maybe (no promises) I'll actually be able to finish the story! (Again, NO promises, but also I hope so!!!)
(Specifics below)
All stories are on the table with the exception of TBBU, since that's already a work in progress and I will get there independently (*she lied, like a liar*). There might be others that have reached their natural end as well, and I'm not up to making zombies, but I can't name any right off, so go nuts and choose whatever you feel has been on life support for too long :)
Whumptober/Sicktember/Febuwhump prompts are up from grabs, but only in the form of continuations of already written pieces. I will not be writing prompts that I failed to post on time in this challenge (maybe another time)
The age of the fic doesn't matter, but be aware I might not be able to capture the same voice as I used to use. My writing style has changed and developed, but I will try and match my own freak when I can.
You CAN ask for specific things! I will not take unkindly to you popping in to say "write an update for story XYZ and maybe have ABC happen?" I can't promise that ABC will happen of course, because maybe that's not what was meant to happen, but I promise to consider any and all suggestions regardless, and try and make a Christmas present that you'll enjoy :)
The stories will get posted starting on the 14th of December and ending on December 25. There will not be an Ao3 collection, but I will have a master-list here on tumblr.
I hope that covers everything, but if you have any questions I didn't answer, please feel free to send an ask, so I can answer publicly, in the case others had the same question <3
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branches-of-time · 4 months ago
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The House That Built Me
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“Figured you’d either still be at the tavern, or were already home wondering where I was.”
He smiles at you, soft, before looking away. “I was at the tavern most of the day, like I planned this morning. But
 something didn’t feel right. I wasn’t really
 giving it my all, and I think the patrons could tell.”
You frown. “What didn’t feel right? Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine, Windblume. I’m just fine.”
You aren’t convinced. “Then, uh
 do you feel like sharing what isn’t fine?”
His gaze drops to the dark sea below. “I think you know what it is, actually.”
Cryptic as ever, you take a moment to ponder what he might mean. He takes the silence as an opportunity to elaborate. “I never really wonder where you are, you know?"
~~~~~~~
Inazuma, all raging storms and war-torn, is calling your name. Shamefully, you find yourself running north instead, searching for something, anything to fill this home-shaped void in your heart.
Maybe, just maybe, you’ll come to find that home is a person, more than a place.
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Pairing: Venti x Reader - Established Relationship, GN!Reader
Word Count: 11,033
Contains: [angst (with a happy ending)] [crying] [cuddling] [emotional hurt/comfort] [lack of communication] [loneliness] [memories] [not canon compliant] [pet death] [Reader & Venti are both adults] [Reader is not Traveler but they essentially take their place in the game's plot] [self-deprecating reader] [separation anxiety] [set prior to Version 2.0] [songfic]
A/Ns: This is a songfic! Title and verses written throughout the fic are from the song- "The House That Built Me" by Miranda Lambert.
Lastly, some context- Reader is a Riftwolf-Human hybrid, can manipulate all seven elements but has an affinity for Geo.
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I know they say you can't go home again.
Sand, warmed by the afternoon sun, swells between your spread fingers as you press your hands down into the ground at your sides. Summoning a modicum of Geo elemental energy, your hands meet no resistance as they sink into the compacted grains like a hot knife through butter. You drop your raised shoulders and let your hands bury several inches into the beach until the sand surrounding them is cool, untouched by the heat of the day.
Dismissing the energy you’d been using to repel it, you allow the ground to resist you again. You note the weight of the sand as it presses down on the backs of your hands, and the firm bed of grains packed beneath your palms. You shut your eyes and flex your fingers slightly, focusing on the soft grit of Falcon Coast as it surrounds your hands in its weighted embrace.
Breathing a heavy sigh, you reopen your eyes, dropping your head and cursing the earth beneath you. This attempt at grounding yourself is doing little to ease the knot in your stomach, nor the tightness in your chest. Looking up and out across the expanse of ocean before you, the sight of Musk Reef looming in the distance doesn’t help either. You refuse to allow your gaze to drift any further south.
You begin to ask yourself what you’re even doing here, and why you thought this was a good idea. You’re no stranger to fleeing to Mondstadt whenever the world overwhelms you, but this specific beach perhaps wasn’t the wisest choice. Certainly not when the very thing you’re running from is the sea.
You hadn’t put much thought into where to go, you just knew you wanted to go home. Materializing at the waypoint east of Windrise was simply instinctual. Though, when you arrived, you didn’t turn and head north like you had so many times before. No, you took a running jump off the cliff below, gliding south and landing on the coast.
Sitting here now though, hands buried in the same sand you first washed up on after clawing your way out of the abyss
 it’s not as comforting of a spot as you thought it might be. You don’t feel grounded at all, caught up between memories of the past and fears of the future.
Tugging your hands out of the sand with a frustrated huff, you turn your head to glance behind you at the cliff to the north.

Maybe you should’ve gone that way instead. Maybe you should go home.
 I just had to come back one last time.
Materializing at the earlier waypoint once again, you pause to collect yourself for a moment. Making frequent use of the waypoints, especially in your current state, isn’t very wise. Then again, you aren’t in a very wise state. Taking a deep breath to dispel the dizziness, you let the warm breeze caress your cheeks. Looking around from your current vantage point, you find yourself grateful for the lack of people in the area. Even Chloris is currently nowhere to be found.
Well, at least you can think in peace. Jumping down from the crumbling ruin, you steady yourself against an archway, narrowly avoiding crushing a small patch of lamp grass. 
Perhaps you should’ve taken another moment to collect yourself. Perhaps you shouldn’t be wandering through the wilds all on your own, in such a state.
You scoff at the latter thought. This is Mondstadt, and you’re
 you. What’s the worst that could happen?
Pushing aside the thought that more alone time may not be what you need right now, you think yourself through your predicament once again as you set off on a walk.
-
You’d been reluctant to leave Mondstadt and set out for Liyue, despite knowing that you’d get no further answers to your myriad of questions here. Not to mention the nagging, relentless tug of fate, pulling you away from the nation you’d come to call home. You knew full and well that you’d have to leave. You’d find no peace in an attempt to ignore the call, and settle here indefinitely.
Still, that didn’t stop you from milking your time here as much as possible. You’d gotten to a first name basis with nearly every soul in the city by the time you ran out of tasks to busy yourself with. Gained quite the notable reputation for yourself in the process too, although that hadn’t been your goal. You truly just didn’t want to leave.
You’d trekked over every hill, passed through every valley, climbed to every peak and turned over every stone and leaf along your way. You explored the nation’s ruins, deciphered inscriptions half faded into their stone, and felled every field till- 
ruin guard that stood in your way. You’d braved the frozen peaks of Dragonspine, and gained a newfound appreciation for the Pyro element in the process.
You stood atop the celestial nail, looking out through the blizzard and over the expanse of land to the southwest.
The vast, foreign land that laid before you scared you more than the journey to the top of the nail had.
After all, you didn’t fear falling. The wind at your back would surely catch you, you had no doubt.
Flecks of Cryo stung, colliding with the flushed, exposed skin of your face. You closed your eyes, balance wavering slightly as a result. A small arm was quick to wrap itself around your waist.
No, you didn’t fear falling. You feared leaving.
You leaned into the safety of your Archon’s hold, their concerned voice perfectly audible in spite of the blizzard winds surrounding you. “Are you alright? Do you need to get down?”
You feared leaving him.
-
Leaves from the end of a tree branch brush against your perked ears, pulling you back into the present. Shaking your head and drawing your ears down on instinct, you look around and realize your muscle memory has carried you the rest of the way home. Tucked away against a small cliff south of the Thousand Winds Temple, stands an even smaller cottage, forgotten to time. An Anemo Samachurl paces in circles in the yard, and its Geo counterpart sits on the old stone stairs leading into the home.
Ma'am, I know you don't know me from Adam.
The Geo Samachurl turns to look at you, and you give it a small wave in acknowledgement. Its attention lingers on you for only a moment longer, before turning back to continue watching its Anemo companion instead. A smile plays on your lips, tight and bittersweet.
You make no move to continue approaching, instead opting to back up a few paces and lean against a nearby tree, observing.
They can sense enough of your shared origins, or- maybe it’s the lingering abyssal energy on you
 regardless, they can sense something on you that they recognize. Nothing specific, but something familiar enough that they feel no need to take up arms upon the mere sight of you. In all honesty, you feel the same. Their presence here doesn’t pose any genuine threat, so you’re content to leave them be.
In the many months that have passed since Venti and you moved out of this place, it’s become a haven for others. Whether it be traveling adventurers seeking shelter for a night, wildlife seeking refuge from a passing storm beneath the awning, or even your old Khaenri’ahn kin seeking a place to camp, the cottage has served many.
The both of you have kept a distant eye on the place since your departure. Though, Venti has found himself remaining more distant than you since these Samachurls have set up camp. While your presence doesn’t ring any alarm bells for them, the same cannot be said for Venti. While he holds no ill intent toward them either, something about the aura he emits sets them instinctively on edge.
You can hardly blame them. You’d raised your hackles and bared your teeth at the bard, defensive upon your first encounter as well. Looking back, he was hardly posing any threat then either, but at the time, you viewed everyone and everything as a potential enemy. After all, you’d just escaped the abyss and been tossed to the shore of Falcon Coast by the waves, your weaker control over Cryo failing you halfway across your attempt at an ice bridge. Waking up on hot sand to find a humanoid being with an unsettling gaze emanating a suspiciously divine aura above you was more than enough to kick your fight or flight into gear.
You attempted both, in that order. You immediately dug your hands into the sand and threw fistfuls of it at the stranger, successfully disorienting them and giving you an opening to flee. With nothing but ocean to the east, you bolted west, and then north, headed for higher ground intent on gaining an advantage.
Looking back now, you know nothing could’ve stopped Venti if he’d truly wanted to catch you. At the time, though, you felt pretty confident in having outrun him. By the time you felt like you’d lost him, you found yourself also lost amidst trees, the uneven terrain obscuring your sense of direction. So- tired, thirsty, hungry, scared, and confused- you dropped from a run to a walk. Pressing forward in the direction you’d run in, you kept your ears at attention to catch any threat before it could catch you.
-
The Anemo Samachurl breaks from its quiet chanting and pacing, its sudden cry pulling your focus from the past. From the way it points and takes off in a run, and the way its Geo counterpart rises to follow behind, you assume it must have seen something in the woods that caught its attention. You see nor sense nothing of note, and dismiss the likely false alarm. Probably just wildlife, or perhaps a Dendro slime looking to play. As the two little shamans run off into the trees, you take advantage of the vacancy they leave behind.
But these handprints on the front steps are mine.
You figure you’ve got enough time for a quick visit before they return. Besides, the worst that’ll happen if they do catch you in their “camp” will be a few disgruntled spells cast toward you as you hightail it out of there. It’ll be fine.
Approaching the trio of old stone steps that lead to the front door, your gaze catches on two handprints engraved into the highest stair. Memories begin to surface.
-
Sitting on the stairs with your back pressed to the door, you found yourself growing frustrated with the green-clad individual in your yard. Well, perched in one of the trees in your yard, to be precise.
You’d taken up residence in this old run-down cottage once it seemed that no one else had been occupying it. The first few days had been blessedly peaceful, it seemed the area was rather devoid of other life. Well, threatening life, at least. There were plenty of plants and animals, plus a little pond close by, providing far more sustenance than you’d grown used to surviving on. You figured it was as good of a place as any to try and sort out your next move. You hadn’t put much thought into what you’d do once you escaped, after all. You found yourself feeling
 lost. After charging ahead with your focus locked on a single goal for so damn long
 you didn’t know what to do with yourself now that you’d achieved it.
You weren’t lost for long though. The nosy stranger that found you on the beach proved to be the next target of your focus. Your peaceful existence in this cottage overlooking the sea didn’t last long before you found yourself in their unwanted company once again. They might’ve thought they were subtle, hiding amongst the treetops and watching you quietly.
They weren't. You could sense them. Hell, even if it weren’t for the strange aura they emanated, you could smell them. They carried a strong scent of fermentation with them, and you could easily pick up on the pungent smell in the wind.
On the third day of your silent standoff, you grew fed up with this stranger’s odd behavior. You only knew one way of settling things, and that was face-to-face, not through some weird game of observation. You cleared your throat, preparing your underused voice and searching for your words. Tilting your head back to look at the trespasser, you snarl at their relaxed stance, laid back across a branch like they’re asleep.
“Come down.” You bark the command up into the trees.
The stranger doesn’t comply, but they do acknowledge you, opening their eyes and turning their head to look down at you. “So you can speak!”
You’re in no mood to entertain their conversation, certainly not before making sense of their intentions. “Come. Down.” You repeat, voice flat and serious.
“Are you gonna throw sand in my eyes again?” Light and playful, they question you.
You huff. “No.” Not without good reason, at least, you think to yourself but fail to vocalize.
They hum in thought for a moment before going quiet again. You let the seconds pass, growing more irritable with each one. Just as you’re about to call them down once again, they roll to the side, willingly falling from the branch they’d been laying on. Your muscles twitch and lock for a moment as you stop yourself from
 from
 from what? What were you going to do, run and try to catch them? Why would you do that? They’ve done nothing for you.
Your lack of action proves itself inconsequential as the stranger falls at a remarkably slow speed. It’s less of a fall and more of a
 decent, you suppose, seeming to effortlessly defy gravity. Righting themself midair to land on their feet, they pull their cape forward on their shoulders, beginning to approach you.
You plant your hands firmly on the stone at your sides, readying yourself for anything.
“While that wasn’t the most convincing answer, I suppose I can extend a bit of trust to you. I sure hope you don’t make me regret it though!” They come far closer to you than anyone with a sense of self-preservation ought to. They hold a hand out between you, and you stare at it, waiting for something to happen. “I’m Venti, a bard from the city.”
Finally getting your first proper look at them up close, you’re struck with the strangest sense of recognition. You couldn’t pinpoint it to save your life, but
 something about this person feels
 familiar. Distant, hazy, and inexplicable, but it’s there nonetheless.
You don’t like it.
When you make no move to do
 whatever they seem to want you to do with their hand, they drop it, and you flinch at the sudden motion. Frowning, they question you. “Might I ask for your name in exchange, my dear trespasser? We can hardly get to know one another without exchanging some basic information.”
Your brows pinch in frustration at the stranger's many words. They say a lot, and they say it fast. It’s been
 you can’t recall how long it’s been since you last held such conversation. One word stands out to you, though. “Trespasser? Me?”
He nods. “Well, technically, yes! I don’t know much about you yet but I do know that this isn’t your house.”
“How?” You question, eyes narrowing, watching as they stupidly step even closer.
“How do I know that this isn’t yours?” They question you in return.
You nod, claws sharpening, palms itching with pent-up Geo energy crackling beneath your skin.
“Because it’s mine, silly!” They laugh, reaching out toward you.
Your instincts take over as the stranger moves to grab you, and you force your hands into the stone beneath you. Releasing the Geo energy you’d been holding onto, you use the repelling force to launch yourself up off the stairs and at the fool standing before you.
You don’t make contact with them though, stumbling forward into what suddenly becomes thin air and tripping over nothing, sending yourself straight to the ground. Righting yourself before you can even register the impact, your claws tear through the dirt and grass as you turn back to face your opponent on all fours.
You freeze at the sight of them, casually propped against the railing of the stairs, clearly not poised to fight. With no weapon in their hands, and refusing to take on any sort of combative stance, you find yourself locked in a one-sided stand-off.
Not taking their eyes off you, the stranger pats the banister they’re leaning against. “I wasn’t reaching out for you, friend.” As you process their words and the seconds turn into a minute, they make no move to attack you, so you slowly let your guard down. Just slightly. Bending at the knees, you settle in a deep squat on the ground.
When the stranger seems confident enough that you aren’t about to throw yourself at them again, they allow their attention to leave you and fall to the step where you’d just sat. Following their gaze, you notice two handprints now carved into the stone, the very edge of the stair chipped away in places where your claws had caught on it.
You ready yourself for an attack, as this stranger surely won’t take kindly to destruction of, apparently, their property. But they make no move to do any such thing. They simply look back up at you with a knowing smile.
“You take after Morax, I see.”
Up those stairs in that little back bedroom, is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar.
Smiling and shaking your head at the memory, you make your way into the small home. It’s rather bare, even more so than it had been when you first found the place. The two of you had taken all of your personal possessions with you into the teapot, leaving nothing but the basic furniture behind. After all, you had far better options awaiting you through Tubby’s sub-space creation.
Seeing the cottage in its original state, it once again becomes clear to you just how little Venti had customized the place prior to you moving in. He didn’t, and still doesn’t have much to his name, truly living the life of the wandering bard he identifies as. Most of what he does have he keeps on his person, whether that be in the physical sense, or dematerialized and stored away.
The cottage turned into a bit less of a shelter and more of a home over the many months you spent there with him. You stocked the little kitchen with far more than just his assortment of fruits, and an array of objects you collected from your outings lined the shelves. Looking back now, with a bit more insight on your own mental and emotional states, you venture a guess as to your behavior. You were likely hoarding whatever you found as a means of making up for how long you spent having nothing.
Venti never shamed you for it, even though he likely understood the behavior from the beginning. He was incredibly empathetic, and kinder than you felt you deserved, even once parts of your past became known to him. It took some time, given your struggle to keep up with his words, and the bigger struggle of finding your own. You managed to get it across to him eventually though, and he’d been benevolent enough to take you in.
-
You come to a stop in the bedroom doorway, surveying the place through the lens of the past.
You remember countless hours spent at the small desk in the corner, hunched over paper with text on it that you couldn’t decipher. Venti stood beside you, one hand on your shoulder, patiently teaching you how to make sense of the symbols you saw.
You remember less stressful hours spent sitting on the floor, curiously plucking at the strings of the bard’s various instruments with your claws. He’d sit on the bed watching you, naming the notes and teaching you how to turn your discordant noise into beautiful music. You were never as good as he was though, and you really didn’t mind. You preferred to listen to him playing, anyway. The bard possessed a beautiful voice, and the soft songs he’d sing to you in the dark of night never failed to put your tormented mind at ease.
Staring at your designated spot on the floor, you laugh at the memory of countless nights spent refusing his invitations. He’d offered his bed to you from the beginning, insisting that you deserved it more than he did. Besides, he said, he was used to sleeping in trees and fields, on barstools and street corners. He claimed he wouldn’t miss the bed at all.
You wouldn’t hear of it. Vehemently denying any offers, you stubbornly slept- atop as many blankets and pillows as you’d allow him to give you- on the floor by his bed like the dog you were. He wasn’t the only one used to sleeping in uncomfortable places, and you weren’t about to lose your edge by getting too comfortable too soon.
You think of the way you woke up this morning, wrapped in soft, warm blankets on a wide, plush mattress, face nuzzled into his neck, arms around his waist.
You’ve both come a long way.
You hear the familiar sound of distant hilichurlian chanting, and make your move to leave, bidding your old bedroom a quiet farewell once again.
Slipping out of the cottage and rounding the side of the building in a few long strides, you narrowly manage to evade their notice. Peeking around the corner, you watch them return to their prior posts. The Anemo Samachurl diligently paces between the trees, its Geo companion keeping watch from the stairs.
You smile, and turn to make your silent departure.
-
Checking in on your old home had been a successful distraction from the thoughts you’re trying to avoid, but you couldn’t linger there forever. Still, feeling unprepared to return to the teapot and try to put on a brave face for Venti, you find yourself wandering. With no particular destination in mind, you let your feet take you where they may.
You try to think of nothing at all for a while, failing over and over again as your mind searches for something to latch onto. Apparently counting your steps wasn’t entertaining enough for it.
After a while of failing to meditate on your walk, you find yourself leaving grass and stepping onto a dirt path. Looking up and around, you realize you’ve made your way to the road leading to the Thousand Winds Temple.
Turning and looking south, you can see the massive tree at Windrise, off in the distance. Far, far, beyond that, bringing your eyes to the horizon, you can see the snowy peaks of Dragonspine beyond the tall cliff of Galesong Hill. You sigh.
And I bet you didn't know, under that live oak, my favorite dog is buried in the yard.
A few months after arriving in Mondstadt and settling in with Venti, you found yourself exploring the icy riverbank that borders Dragonspine. The stubborn bard, wrapped in the thickest cloak he owned, trudged along behind you.
You’d told him he didn’t have to join you that day, but the thought of you exploring unfamiliar territory without him apparently just didn’t sit right. So, in spite of his occasional grumbles over the increasing cold, he never left your side.
The area was predictably desolate, save for a few Cryo Hilichurl archers lounging on the icy banks like they were on summer vacation. You weren’t looking for a fight that day though, just to explore, so you avoided drawing their attention given the divine company you were in.
Later on, as you were focusing hard on what Pyro energy you could summon in an attempt to melt the ice encasing a chest, you found something far more valuable. Venti saw it first, having been eyeing the surroundings while you were focused on the task at hand. Calling your name, he summoned your attention with ease.
Turning to look at him, your gaze followed his pointed finger and landed on a dog, slowly making its way toward you.
The animal was fairly large, but certainly far from threatening given the state it was in. As it drew closer, Venti lowered himself to his knees in the cold wet grass, suddenly forgoing his prior reluctance to endure the elements. You smiled. It seemed like he’d learned a thing or two from you about dealing with fearful dogs.
You followed suit, crouching down beside him and getting on the dog's level. The shivering animal hesitated, coming to a stop about fifteen feet away. Materializing some fresh meat you’d caught on the journey there, you quietly held it out toward the dog.
It sniffed the air, but refused to move.
Tearing a chunk off, you gently tossed it in the dog’s direction, and it landed a few feet in front of it. Sniffing harder, the animal carefully approached the offering, sticking its head out as far as it could to reach the food and avoid coming closer.
The two of you spent the better part of an hour luring the dog toward you, slowly but surely winning it over with continued offerings of fresh meat.
Upon closer inspection, you were honestly shocked that it was still standing. Skin stretched tight across its ribcage, hip bones two sharp peaks, spine a long mountain range down its back
 the thing was clearly starving. You weren’t sure if it was the stress of a difficult life, a sign of old age, or both, but what you assumed had once been black fur was almost white from graying, particularly in its face. It trembled incessantly, and as soon as it came close enough and didn’t seem apt to bolt, Venti untied his cape and wrapped it around the dog, who shockingly didn’t fight it.
Maybe Venti had been serious when he claimed he could talk to animals.
You fed it more bites of meat as the two of you quietly discussed the best way to get it home. Blessedly, once the dog realized that neither of you held malicious intentions, it switched gears surprisingly fast. More than just tolerating your presence, the dog actually began to cling to you, frantically whining when you both stood up, fearful that you’d be leaving it behind.
Abandoning your half-melted treasure, you knew it was time to leave. You were quite a ways from home and you weren’t about to try teleporting the dog in its current state. So instead, you carefully picked her up, frowning at how little she weighed. Venti took the remaining meat and distracted the nervous dog with more offerings of food as you began your long, slow journey home.
“Don’t- don’t feed her too fast. I know she’s hungry but I don’t want to make her sick.”
Venti nodded, tearing off smaller bites. “I remember.” He cryptically confirmed.
You adjusted the dog in your hold, pulling Venti’s cape up around her neck. “
Remember what?”
He suppressed a shiver, but you still noticed. “You ate yourself sick on fruit and raw meat the first night you spent here.”
Your head turned quickly, staring down at him. “You were watching? Even then?”
He nodded, expression solemn. “I followed you home, you know? It just took a few days for you to notice that I was there.”
You walked in thoughtful silence for a while after that, wondering if your scattered senses had failed you, or if he was actually better at hiding his aura than you thought.
-
The dog lived with the both of you in your little cottage for a few good months. She gradually put on weight, and some life returned to her alongside it. She still moved slowly, though, and you feared she was in pain.
By that point, you’d befriended a timid alchemist with mint-green hair, and sought her assistance. She’d kindly offered you a medicine of her own creation, advising that the dog seemed rather old, and likely suffered from joint pain. You offered her payment in Mora, which she politely refused. You eventually got her to accept a small assortment of bones you’d gathered in exchange, correctly surmising that the offer would be too tempting for her to refuse.
Sucrose’s medicine seemed to help, because the dog moved with noticeably more ease once you began giving it to her. She was far from spry, but she seemed comfortable, so you were content. She was also content, in the precious, innocent way that only a dog can be. Just happy to be alive, happy to be fed, happy to be safe. Happy to be near someone that loves them, and happy to be near someone they love.
“Adagio.” Venti had once said, gently raking his nails through her fur on a warm, sleepy afternoon.
“What’s that?’ It was far from the first time he’d said a word you didn’t know.
“In musical terms, it means played slowly
 I think it would be a nice name for her.”
You considered it for a moment, and found it rather fitting, nodding in agreement with a smile. “I like that.”
Adagio spent her days laying in the shade near the cliff’s edge, watching the waves lap at the small shore below. Looking back, you can thank her for teaching Venti that you can survive a half a day on your own. She could hardly chase you all over Mondstadt, or weave her way after Venti through the busy city streets, so when one of you needed to go out for something, the other would stay home with her. One of the two of you were always there, and she never knew the pain of being alone again.
She spent her nights curled between the two of you. She couldn’t make the jump up onto the bed, and you were still stubbornly sleeping on the floor, so Venti made the executive decision to heave the mattress onto the floor as well. As silly of a sight as it may have been to an outsider, the three of you were comfortable, curled together amidst blankets and pillows on the too-small mattress, bed frame abandoned on the other side of the room.
Nothing lasts forever though, and it seemed to you that the best of things were always the quickest to go.
As months passed, her movements went from slow to slower, and she started struggling with more things. She could no longer steady herself to make it up and down the three stairs to your home, so one of you carried her every time. She slept more and moved less, and her love of food began to wane.
This wasn’t your first experience with something like this. Though it had been an awfully long time since you lived through it last, you still knew what was coming.
That didn’t make it hurt any less, though. Not at all.
Both of you sat awake with her through the final night, keeping her comfortable and telling her how much you loved her. You’d never hoped harder that Venti’s communicative abilities held true.
You kept it together until she released her final breath, and when you knew she was gone, you allowed yourself to fall apart.
Up until then, your walls had been an impenetrable fortress. No emotion escaped unless you allowed it. Venti had never seen you cry.
So when your pain escaped you this time, falling in heavy golden tears and landing in her gray fur, he could only stare. He knew this wasn’t his moment to intrude on, so he didn’t. He didn’t rush to wrap you in an embrace, nor did he try to offer any hollow words of comfort. This was pain. This was loss. He was intimately familiar with it, and he knew it had to be felt.
There isn’t a single detail of that night that you don’t recall, and the teal tears that fell next to your golden ones are no exception.
That was the first time you saw him cry, too.
-
The evening breeze cools the hot golden tracks running down your cheeks. You watch tears fall onto the dirt path beneath you, and then you close your eyes.
-
You both sat there with what remained of her until the morning sun slipped in through the window. You were surprised when Venti broke the silence, offering to bury Adagio beneath the Windrise tree.
You spoke through a voice thick and strained from your cries. “That’s
 that’s a really special place.”
He nodded. “She was a really special dog.”
You wiped the fresh tears from your eyes before they could fall, turning to face him.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” He put his hand out, laying it next to Adagio on the mattress. “Unless you’d prefer elsewhere?”
You knew what to do this time. Reaching out and laying your hand in his, you shook your head slowly. “No. I think Windrise would be perfect.”
-
Opening your eyes, you raise your head to glance once more at the massive tree across the sprawling field. Bidding Adagio another quiet goodbye, you pull in a shaky breath, and turn, heading north.
Walking in silence for a while, you try to let your emotions settle. The tears you just shed seemed to help a little, but the knot in your stomach won’t leave you.
You follow the road a little while longer, but when you find yourself nearing the temple, you take a detour and head west, off the beaten path. You aren’t keen on running into whatever random explorers might be camping there this evening. Besides, the scent of cecilias is on the breeze, and you’d rather follow that instead.
Making your way up the uneven terrain that comprises the base of Starsnatch Cliff, your mind returns to its ruminations over what brought you here today in the first place.
You leave home, you move on, and you do the best you can.
The reason for your reluctance to leave Mondstadt became abundantly clear on the day you finally set out for the neighboring nation. As you left Dawn Winery behind and crossed the border, headed for Stone Gate, it sank in quickly.
Venti wasn’t beside you.
Up until that point, he’d been the literal wind at your back every step of the way. Every commission you completed, every request you fulfilled, every inch of land you explored, he was right behind you. Or beside you, or above you, or in front of you

Regardless, he was there. Answering your questions, telling you stories, helping you make sense of the unfamiliar. Whether it be words you couldn’t yet read, customs you didn’t yet understand, or emotions you couldn’t yet identify, he was your guide through it all. The Stormterror crisis came and went, as did the
 incident with Signora, and the two of you grew ever closer as a result of it all. You could fill a book with the stories of what you two went through in the mere year you spent in this nation. But, as you sat together beneath the Windrise tree one evening discussing it all, it slowly grew clear that it was coming time to move on. As if the notion alone wasn’t stressful enough already, there seemed to be an unspoken understanding that it was a journey you must undertake alone.
So, you did. You’d packed your things, said your temporary goodbyes, and set off on your own without so much as once giving in to the urge to ask him to come along. The goodbyes were, after all, only temporary. You hoped. If you made it through whatever awaited you in Liyue alive, you always planned on returning home.
And you did. Many times.
You, scared as you’d been, made it through the lively adventure that was your initial trip to Liyue, and you’d come out much stronger for it. You found a confidence that you’d forgotten you possessed, forced to show itself once there was no travel companion for you to rely on.
Quite early in your journey, you gathered that you weren’t completely alone anyhow. Sure, in your day-to-day there was no talkative bard trailing behind you, and the nights proved themselves awfully lonely indeed. But Venti’s parting words, “may the wind protect you”, proved themselves surprisingly literal as you took note of one particular Yaksha. After a few nights at Wangshu Inn, and a few bowls of almond tofu shared in relative silence, the man had made himself into your shadow shockingly fast. He never seemed to be around when your gaze searched for him in a crowd, but was always conveniently there the moment you ran into trouble.
Still, in spite of his protection, not to mention your growing, innate connection with the God of your favored element, you longed for home. You longed for your home. You longed for your God.
I got lost in this whole world, and forgot who I am.
So, once the dust, or, well, waves had settled and Rex Lapis had been “officially” laid to rest, you found yourself headed northeast.
In spite of how proud you’d been for making it on your own, all of that crumbled the evening you first crossed back into Mondstadt. You could've used any of the waypoints you’d resonated with, could’ve gone right back home to the cliff overlooking Falcon Coast. But something about that just didn’t feel right. Not for your first return.
Walking the path back toward Dawn Winery, you tried to keep your composure. You tried to not get irrationally emotional over the familiar sight of Anemo crystalflies fluttering over the grape vines. You ignored the warmth in your chest at the sight of soft yellow candlelight illuminating the cottage windows along your path.
Your weakening grip on your emotions completely failed though when you caught sight of a small, green-clad bard, legs dangling from the edge of a rooftop, plucking at his lyre.
You burst into tears on the spot, folding in on yourself and crumpling to the dirt beneath you.
He dropped the nonchalant act instantly, dematerializing from his perch on the rooftop and reappearing beside you in a small, warm burst of Anemo energy that you didn’t see through your tears, but definitely felt. He’d questioned you frantically, worried you were hurt, not understanding what was wrong. Eventually, largely thanks to his embrace, the sobs wracking your form eased enough to assure him that you were fine.
You’d just missed him, was all.
The array of conflicting emotions that flashed in his eyes at the admission would've intrigued you, had you not been so absorbed in your own at the time.
In spite of how badly you craved his company, you’d already proved to yourself that you could travel on your own. So, you continued to. After an extended stay in Mondstadt to recover from your first eventful excursion, you began traveling between the two nations more regularly. Having resonated with most of the waypoints and Statues of the Seven in Liyue as well, it was easy to hop over for the day and still come home to Venti at night.
I thought if I could touch this place or feel it, this brokenness inside me might start healing.
Such was your routine until Madam Ping had introduced you to her Teapots. Adeptal magic was quite the wonder, capable of impressive feats, and the new home offered to you was no exception. When you learned that not only could you live in it, but you could invite others in as well, you were over the moon. You were, of course, reluctant to bid a more permanent farewell to the little house overlooking the sea that you’d grown so familiar with. But when faced with something as convenient and extravagant as the teapot, you could hardly turn it down.
Venti had been more than interested in your offer when you brought the thing home and showed it to him. After bestowing a permanent invitation upon him, he took a liking to the space quite quickly, happy to help make yourselves a new home. Having already been informed of your penchant for Mondstadt, Tubby had crafted a world for you that resembled the land of freedom’s sprawling hills, cliffs, and beaches to an impressive degree. Your new home was far grander than your old one, but with a little time and personalization with what you both brought from the cottage, it really did start to feel like home.
It was
 nice, having a safe place to return to every night, regardless of where you were or what you may be caught up in. It was even nicer that Venti seemed to quite enjoy spending time there as well. There’d scarcely been an evening where both of you hadn’t wound up in the teapot together, sharing stories of your respective days over dinner.
Things carried on like that for the remainder of your time in Liyue. You spent more and more time in the land of contracts, and less and less in Mondstadt as a result. Sometimes you’d have reason to return, and somehow you’d almost always run into Venti while you were there. Time spent with him in the teapot was no less real, but it always felt
 special, when the two of you were together in Mondstadt again.
Out here, it's like I'm someone else, I thought that maybe I could find myself.
Still, just as it had been with Mondstadt, you couldn’t linger in Liyue forever. You’d built a reputation for yourself there to match your standing in Mondstadt, making a slew of new connections, exploring, finding answers and more questions alike. It was time to move on. Inazuma loomed far, far off on the southern horizon, and it was up to you to make the first step to reach it.
You didn’t want to.
You stood on the docks, looking out at Guyun Stone Forest, and at Beidou’s ship anchored nearby.
You found yourself feeling something you hadn’t felt in a long while. You felt the same as you had when standing atop the celestial nail, only this time it was somehow worse. It scared you. Yes, the prospect of setting off effectively alone to yet another unfamiliar nation, but more than that. It scared you because you thought you’d grown past this. You thought you could handle this. You thought
 you thought you’d outgrown this immature sense of homesickness.
You were wrong.
If I could walk around, I swear I'll leave.
That’s how you found yourself here, ambling through the wilds of Mondstadt. You really, really don’t want to leave. But you know that you have to.
You think of the stories you’ve heard in Liyue, of the terrible war raging in the island nation to the south.
You release a shaky breath into the cooling air.
You pray that you’ll make it back alive.
Won't take nothin' but a memory, from the house that built me.
Following the cecilias as their trail grows thicker, you weave your way up to the peak of the massive cliff.
You’re only slightly surprised to see a small figure, dressed in a very familiar shade of green, sitting with their back to you at the very edge.
Tension you didn’t notice you were holding melts from your shoulders at the sight of him.
You do your best to push aside the emotional storm you’ve been caught up in, and you call out to him, playful. “Fancy seeing you here!”
He twists at the waist to face you, following your movement as you approach. “I could say the same, love. What brings you here?”
You laugh softly as you come to a halt beside him. “Well, I could ask the same of you.” You carefully lower yourself to the ground, letting your legs dangle off the cliff beside his. “Figured you’d either still be at the tavern, or were already home wondering where I was.”
He smiles at you, soft, before looking away. “I was at the tavern most of the day, like I planned this morning. But
 something didn’t feel right. I wasn’t really
 giving it my all, and I think the patrons could tell.”
You frown. “What didn’t feel right? Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine, Windblume. I’m just fine.”
You aren’t convinced. “Then, uh
 do you feel like sharing what isn’t fine?”
His gaze drops to the dark sea below. “I think you know what it is, actually.”
Cryptic as ever, you take a moment to ponder what he might mean. He takes the silence as an opportunity to elaborate. “I never really wonder where you are, you know?”
You glance at him, bemused for a moment before growing serious. “Oh, what, were you- like- watching me today? How
 Wait, how long have you been up here, actually?”
He doesn’t look at you, but he shakes his head. “I don’t have to be watching you to know where you are, dear.” The wind tousles your hair. “I’m already everywhere. All the time. If the wind can reach you, I’m there.”
“...Oh. Right.” You let your own gaze fall to the sea. “Maybe I let myself forget sometimes, just how
 literal that is.”
You remember the warm sea breeze from this afternoon, the brief gust that cooled your tear-stained cheeks early this evening, and the wind that brought the scent of cecilias down toward you.
“...So you could tell that I was here today.”
“Yeah.” He confirms quietly. “There was something
 discordant, blowing in from Falcon Coast this afternoon. It didn’t take long for me to identify you.”
Guilt blooms within you. “Is that when you left the tavern?”
“No, I didn’t head out immediately. I mean- I can hardly turn off my omniscience, but I do still try to give you privacy in spite of it. I figured if you needed me, or
 wanted me, you would call out.”
The way he says “wanted” makes your frown deepen.
“But, when the tone of the air only continued to sour as time passed, I did eventually give in to my concern.”
You pluck at the grass beneath you to busy your hands. “I’m sorry for distracting you. I really didn’t mean to, I just
”
He turns to you, cutting you off. “Please don’t say that. I couldn’t care less about losing out on a few mora at the tavern. I care about the fact that you’re out here, crying to yourself, all alone.”
A familiar tension makes itself at home again in your throat. “I
”
You trail off, lost for words. Venti makes up for it though, seeming to suddenly have quite a bit to get off of his own chest. “I can sense the difference between someone who wants to cry on their own, and someone who’s crying because they’re on their own.” His pained voice nearly cracks. “I never thought I’d feel the latter coming from you. But I’ve felt it more than once now, and
 I don’t know what to do.”
At his confession, honesty slips out of you, and you can’t hold back the tears that come with it. “I miss you.” You turn to face him, and then look past, gesturing weakly out to the sprawling land of freedom behind you. “I miss this! I miss home! I miss you!” Voice breaking, you choke on your tears and lean into him, crumpling pathetically down onto his lap and curling yourself around him like the needy animal that you are.
His hands settle on you, one on your back and another reaching for your legs, pulling you against him so you don’t slip off the edge. His winds would cradle you if you fell, but he’d rather prevent the problem before it can happen. His own voice is tight with emotion when he speaks. “You have me, love. You- you hold me every night, I bid you goodbye every morning, you can visit Mondstadt whenever you please!”
You shake your head vehemently in his lap, crying harder.
“I’m sorry, love- I- I really don’t understand. In what way do you not have me?”
You practically shout your answer into the fabric of your sleeves, turning your head just enough to pointlessly attempt to wipe your face. “When I leave! I have to leave! I have to leave, and leave you behind, and you aren’t with me, and I’m alone again every time I go!”
One of his hands comes up to carefully comb the damp hair from your face, the black tips now wet with shimmering gold. “When you leave Mondstadt? Like
 like when you go to Liyue?”
You nod, almost hyperventilating as your fears spill from you. “I should've never gone there alone! I wanted to ask you, I wanted you to come with me so badly but something told me that I shouldn't ask, that I should go alone, and so I went and I was so fucking scared but- but- but I was fine- I was fine- I made it back alive and so what if I cried every night because I missed you? I had a fucking nation to save it’s not like I could come home crying to you about it! And- and I mean Xiao was there but I- I- I can fight I can hold my own I don’t need protection I need a friend! I need company! I need you! I- I knew I’d be fine but fuck I felt so alone and I missed you, I missed you, I missed Venti, I missed Barbatos, I missed you SO MUCH-” You suddenly heave for air in the middle of your spiel, breathing in too hard and choking on your own spit. Feeling about as vulnerable and pathetic as you’ve ever been, you give in to the misery, grasping for purchase at any part of him you can reach. Your claws dig into the thin fabric of his tights in a way you know you’ll be frantically apologizing for later, but in this moment you can’t bring yourself to stop. You can't bring yourself to do anything but cry, and cry, and cry.
He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, the only sound he makes instead being a quiet, gentle hush, over and over, focused on calming you down. The cool hand that finds its way beneath your hair and settles on the back of your hot neck feels like heaven, and for a moment you cry harder at the relief. His other hand pets across the broad expanse of your back in slow, rhythmic, sweeping motions.
When your cries have quieted enough for you to focus on his words, he says something that surprises you.
“I’d have gone, if you’d have asked me.”
You hiccup a question. “Wh-what?”
“To Liyue. I would have been more than happy to go with you, if you’d have only asked.” His lithe fingers gently massage at the tension in your neck.
You twist in his hold just enough to look up at him. “Seriously?”
He gives you a weak smile, but it’s more sad than anything. “Of course. The only reason I didn’t invite myself along was because I wanted you to have the freedom to choose. I figured
 if I offered to go with you, you might feel obligated to bring me with you.”
You laugh, but there's no humor in it. “This whole time
 this whole time I really thought that you didn’t want to go.”
He’s visibly pained by the thought. “Why in the world wouldn’t I?”
You shake your head. “I don’t know
 I just figured you had your reasons. It is another nation after all, and I’m still
 not too sure how Archons feel about crossing into one another’s territory.” You clear your throat and scrub at your eyes and cheeks with a fist. “Figured maybe you didn’t want to run into Morax or something
”
He laughs, and there’s a bit of life in it this time. “Even the prospect of running into that old block-head wouldn’t be enough to stop me from accompanying you.” He takes your hand in his, stopping your aggressive assault on your messy face. “And while certain Archons might be
 less than enthralled to see me again, just because I’m with you doesn’t mean I have to be recognized.”
Your brow furrows. “Venti and Barbatos don’t look all that different
”
He smiles down at you good-naturedly. “True. But I could take another form if it came down to it. Something unrecognizable to even them. If there’s anything I know how to do, it’s how to hide in plain sight and not be found.”
In spite of the tears still staining your cheeks, you give a small smile to your absentee God. “You’d really go to such lengths? For me?”
He gives you a confident nod. “For you and you only, love.”
His hand continues its gentle ministrations across your back, and your muscles gradually relax. You run a hand along the fabric of his tights, waiting for your breaths to come steady. As your senses slowly return to you, your fingertips brush across a few small tears in the material, and you cringe. Venti notices as much, and reassures you. “Hey- It’s alright. Don’t worry about that.”
His words are too late to stop you from raising your head enough to observe the damage, your hand gently cupping his thigh. “I didn’t scratch you
 did I?”
“Nope! Just caught the fabric is all.” You aren’t inclined to believe him, given that with his abilities he could’ve healed any minor wounds before you even knew they were there.
You huff, dropping your head to his lap once more. “I’m still very sorry. I’ll buy you-”
“That won’t be necessary-” He tries to cut you off, but your insistence overpowers his own.
“I am buying you a new pair.”
He sighs in reluctant acceptance, knowing better than to challenge you. “Alright, alright. If you insist.”
You lay there for a moment, idly kneading at his thigh and letting the soft sounds of the evening wildlife fill the silence. Still, you struggle to wrap your head around the recent revelation. “You’d really be willing to leave this place?”
He laughs beneath his breath at your disbelief. “I mean, not permanently. If you’ve hatched some plan to move to Snezhnaya that I don’t know about, then I might have to disappoint you
”
You relax further at the familiar, playful edge that returns to his voice. “Nah, nah, nothing like that
 just- on my journey away and back. Not- not even every time! Just
 sometimes. It
 really would’ve been nice to have you by my side the first time, actually, but I know it’s too late for that now. I just
 wouldn't have felt so lost.”
His smile fades a bit at the confirmation of a long-held suspicion. You had been missing him as badly as he’d missed you.
You catch the shift in his demeanor, no matter how slight. “...I’m making you sad
”
One of his hands finds yours. “Only at the realization of how oblivious I’ve been.” He laughs, humorless. “All those nights I couldn’t sense you in the wind, all the time I spent wondering if you were okay
 you weren’t. You were holed up somewhere, crying, alone, afraid
”
His eyes pinch closed and you squeeze his hand. “It’s not on you. I should’ve been more honest with you before I left.”
He huffs, and then he’s quiet for a moment, thinking. It’s times like these in which you wish you could read him as well as he can read you. “...I could say the same.”
You stare up at him for a moment in confusion. “What do you mean?”
He holds your gaze for a moment and opens his mouth to speak, but seems to think better of whatever he had to say. His focus shifts from you and out to the sea. “...Like I said, I would’ve been happy to follow you. I never should’ve let you grow to believe otherwise.”
You pout just slightly at the less-than-complete sounding answer, but another question overrides your focus. “Is Liyue
 the limit?”
The hesitation in your voice gives him pause. “What do you mean?”
“Is Liyue, like, as far as you’re willing to go.”
His eyes brighten in understanding, and you’d collapse from relief at the shake of his head if you weren’t already on the ground.
“Oh! No, not at all. I really meant it when I said I’d risk running into the other Archons for you.”
You release his hand and reach up to pinch the fat of your cheeks between your claws. He pouts, reaching down to stop you. “What’s that for?”
“I’m afraid I’m dreaming or something
”
He laughs properly, a beautiful sound. You crane your neck up to glance southward. The wall of storms barricading Inazuma are still there, an awful sight. You drop your head back to his lap with a heavy sigh.
He pats you gently on the cheek. “You’re wide awake, I assure you.”
Reaching up, you gently bat at the braids that hang at the sides of his face, chewing on your lower lip. He reads you like a book. “I think we’ve learned something this evening, dear.”
“What’s that?”
He catches your hand mid-air, splaying his fingers out and lacing them between yours. “It’s that when we have something to ask of one another, we should do it.”
The corner of your mouth turns up, and you meet his gaze. “Is that your fancy way of telling me to spit it out?”
He giggles. “Maybe.”
You sigh, letting your gaze drift away from him and up to the stars far, far above. “Would you be so kind
 as to accompany this scared old dog all the way to Inazuma?”
You close your eyes, waiting for a “no.”
It never comes. Instead, he squeezes your hand in his, and you’re shocked to hear relief in his tone when he answers you. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Your eyes flicker open, unsure. “Is
 is that a yes?”
He nods vehemently. “It is.”
The tears that spring to your eyes catch you by surprise. He wipes them away with his thumb as they fall. Sniffling, you question him again. “There’s- There’s a whole war going on over there right now, you know?”
The blue in his braids brightens, and in the dark of the early night, you notice the same turquoise light begin to shine from his chest, beneath the thin fabric of his white shirt. “I’m no stranger to war.”
You reach up, tracing a gentle finger across where you know one of his Archon marks to be. “...That you aren’t.”
His thumb swipes across the black star at the base of your neck, half hidden by your collar. “...Guess that makes two of us, huh.”
It’s a rhetorical question, but you hum in confirmation nonetheless. Rising from your spot on his lap, you wiggle your way around until you’re seated beside him properly again. Reaching an arm out, you wrap it around his shoulders, and he leans into you. Both of you stare out across the sea, watching the lightning flash in the storm to the south.
“I don’t even know what I’m gonna be able to do to help.” You sigh. “But I know I have to go.”
One of his hands finds yours again. “Whatever may come, I consider it an honor to fight alongside you.”
You bark a laugh, shaking your head at the notion. “Hey now, I just asked you to come with me, I never said anything about putting you in the line of fire.”
He smiles. “I know, I know, but still
 if it comes down to it-”
“If it comes down to that, I’m hauling you over my shoulder and taking us both home.” You cut him off in a no-nonsense tone.
Your seriousness doesn’t cause his mirth to falter. “I fear I’m gonna be the one dragging you home if we run into Signora while we’re there.”
A low growl reverberates from your chest at the mere mention of her. “We’ve still got a score to settle.”
He pats you on the thigh placatingly, humor in his words. “Darling, how many times must I reassure you? I let her take it from me.”
“Still, she didn’t have to be so fucking rough about it. I’m not after the gnosis. She made this personal.” You snarl.
His soft laughter subsides as he shakes his head, but he doesn’t argue.
The two of you watch the lightning show for a short while, before you grow tired of the dreadful sight and opt to focus on something better. Unwrapping your arm from the God at your side, you stifle a laugh as he voices his sudden startled displeasure. You apologize as you reposition yourselves, moving away from the edge a bit and turning the both of you around. “Sorry about that, didn’t realize you’d almost fallen asleep on me.”
He pouts. “Can you blame me? You’re warm, and it’s been a stressful day
 and speaking of-”
You nod. “I know. We should be getting home soon. But- look.” You point at the beautiful sight of Mondstadt City, lit up for the night, a beacon of hope and freedom standing strong in the distance. “Isn’t that a sight worth sticking around a little longer for?”
He sighs in content as you pull him against you once more. You can’t feel the swell of pride in his chest at the sight, but you can hear it in his voice. “It sure is.”
Lifting his hat from his head and placing it in his lap, you comb your fingers through his hair, finding your own satisfaction in the way he melts against you. The two of you admire the city for a long few minutes, and a thought occurs. “As much as I want you beside me
 I feel bad taking you from your people.”
He shakes his head and the motion tickles as his hair brushes against your chin. “They don’t need me, love. At least, not in the day-to-day sense.” He huffs. “Honestly, I think the most prominent place that my presence will be missed is the tavern, and that’s of little consequence in the grand scheme.”
You know he’s right, but the guilt still nags at you. “I guess
”
He leans away just enough to turn and look you in the eye. “You are one of my people too, you know?”
You hold his gaze, considering it. Have you really been here long enough, or made a big enough impact on the region to be bestowed with such an honorary title? “...I suppose I do.”
He reaches up and cups your cheek, eyes pleading. “Then let me be there for you.”
You breathe a sigh of acceptance. “...Okay.” You turn your head and plant a quick kiss against his palm before he can pull away.
He lets his hand drop, but doesn’t turn away. “I’m really sorry that you’ve been carrying all of this pain with you for so long. I should have questioned you on it sooner.”
You pick his hand up from his lap, taking it in yours. “It’s not your fault. At least, certainly not anymore than it is mine. I should've just asked you to come, the worst thing you could’ve said was no.”
“I still hate that you even thought I might’ve said no. I
 should have made my willingness clearer.”
“Nah, I mean, after a year of following me around Mondstadt I think you were quite clear. I’m just
 dense.” You summon a few tiny Geo shards in your palm before allowing them to crumble into a shimmering pile of dust. “Comes with the territory, I suppose.”
Venti scoffs. “Well if you’re dense, then I’m diffuse.” A tiny gust of Anemo swoops in and lifts the dust from your outstretched palm, scattering it to the wind.
You watch your two energies mix and dissolve into the night air. “I guess they do say that opposites attract.”
He hums. “That they do, love.”
You expect him to turn back toward the city, and he almost does, but then he hesitates, and calls you by name. “I want you to remember something.”
Your interest piques, brows raising above tired, lidded eyes. “And what’s that?”
His tone is serious. “You are not alone. Ever. Not if you don’t want to be. I don’t want you hesitating to call on me ever again. If you need me, if you want me, I’m there. No exceptions.” Maybe it’s the day’s exhaustion catching up with you, but the light in his eyes feels like a beacon, guiding you home. “You don’t ever have to be alone again. Remember this, please.”
Something warm blooms in your chest, and it’s in this moment that you realize the knot in your stomach has loosened. It isnïżœïżœïżœt gone, but it’s hardly noticeable anymore, and you finally breathe easy. You hold his gaze for a moment before nodding, serious. “I will.”
He brings his hand up, holding his pinky out toward you. “Promise?”
You smile, reaching out and wrapping yours around his. “Promise.”
He exhales, satisfied. “You wanna stay out here a bit longer?”
You open your arms in invitation. “I’d love to.”
Shuffling around once more, you help situate him between your legs, pulling him back against your chest.
“Alright, but don’t hold it against me if I fall asleep out here. You make for quite the comfortable bed, you know.”
You smile, nuzzling into his hair and breathing him in. The heavy scent of fermentation he once carried is now nothing but a faint whisper. “I won’t mind.” Lifting your gaze from the distant city lights, you quietly admire the stars above. “Not at all.”
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A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! You can find my commentary on this fic in the notes right here on Ao3. For more info on my OC Saoirse (aka this fic's "Reader"), along with links to various relevant playlists and moodboards, you can find it all here, in the notes of my fic series "This Is Unconditional." This is fic 4 of 16 that I'm doing based on combining prompts from this list! [Day 6 (Singing) & Day 21 (Memory)] Header Image Source: Me, for once! It's an in-game screenshot that I took myself.
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longagoitwastuesday · 3 months ago
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I'm three interactions away from spreading my Ijichi/Gojo agenda
#The most trusted person of the strongest sorcerer in hundreds of years is the man who drives him places#because he's so weak when it comes to powers that even a first year kid considers irrelevant in a fight#With the implications that has in this world#Wish we had breakfasts in this manga#(scene of Shoko‚ Megumi‚ Yuta‚ Ijichi and perhaps Utahime and Yuji reacting to Gojo's death as his death and not just in a Sukuna context)#But in five chapters I doubt we'll get even the main arcs sufficiently closed#so I don't dare hope for the impact of the loses in a 'normal' sense#But I would give an arm for some breakfast interactions so to speak#The second ending plays with that idea a bit. A pity I don't consider endings and openings canon#So I don't count them. As much as I would like to think somewhere in the time line they painted Megumi's sleeping face jigglypufflike#and went to give a walk by the beach while Yuuji wistfully looked at them#I talk too much#I should probably delete this later#With so many tags I forgot what this post was about xD#This is half a joke. Conceptually they're not bad but I'm also not invested at all in anything in a shippy way#I just pointed the Ijichi/Gojo thing out a bit in the context of how I have never seen something with them#while I see a lot of the ships with the other characters#Also not that it's bad the lack of a shippy air. And probably it's for the best considering the lack of breakfast scenes so to speak#I'm loving the potential of the platonic dynamics and it's already messing me up that there's no real depth to them#Megumi and Gojo could have been everything to me. Everything. I can't say it enough haha#Edit: Actively looking for this now and I can't find Ijichi x Gojo stuff here on tumblr. I'll try twitter and ao3 later or something maybe
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ereborne · 1 year ago
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WIP ask game: "backflip, faceplant", please! (also what's your ao3 handle? if you got one/don't mind/other)
Backflip, faceplant!  Of all of these working titles, this is the one I think might work best as an actual title.  It’s fun to say—imagine me tilting my head one way and then the other as I say it—and more importantly it doesn’t require a full six-degrees-of-kevin-bacon word association game to make sense to a viewer outside my head:  it’s what happens in the first scene of the fic.   
Essentially, this is my Dick Grayson character exploration, turned sort of emotional fix-it.  Dick gets kicked around so consistently in canon that he often doesn’t actually have the opportunity to live up to the Eldest Daughter characterization fandom loves to give him, and I am in the fashion of comics fans everywhere creating my own timeline mishmash to allow for a different outcome. 
What if before Jason died, Dick had managed to carve out a little space separate from his anger with Bruce, for the foundations of the brotherly relationship we all want them to have?  What if the first time he laid eyes on Tim, Dick turned a piece of his grief for Jason into determination to grow an even better brotherly relationship with him?  And what if Dick’s choice to grow those relationships had knock-on effects all the way down the line? 
Featuring such highlights as:  Tim and Babs conspiring to make sure Dick is never without backup in Bludhaven, professionally emotionally and otherwise; brain-scrambled Jason still pretty much autopilot adopting Damian in Nanda Parbat because when a kid falls over in front of you, you pick them the fuck up; ongoing ‘who can spill punch on the worst gala guest’ competitions between the Foxes and Waynes (surprise winner Kate Kane); the Titans and the Teen Titans and Timmy’s Weirdass Friends Too all working together better and more often; me rejecting p much everything New 52 except Strix, Strix can stay; a gargoyle with Dick Grayson’s perfect butt being commissioned for the Gotham Belltower as a loving and heartfelt tribute to everybody’s best big brother. 
I’m just writing whatever nonsense makes me happy with no regard to pacing, so it's gotten pretty sprawling—past sprawling, really, probably if I were going to post it up, I'd have the main story as one work and then a second work with multiple chapters of excerpted scenes—but it’s emotionally rewarding and an excellent thought exercise for me trying to decide what parts of DC’s bonkers-ass timeline(s) I think are important. 
Crime Alley natives only respond well to respect, and they never feel comfortable unless they’ve got the advantage.  Dick settles at the edge of the mat, dropping into an easy flat-footed squat, eye-level with the kid.  The kid immediately stands up from his crouch, and Dick doesn’t smirk, just tilts his head up to keep meeting his eyes.  “That was a good tumble.”  The kid’s looking for a lie, but he won’t find one.  He’d landed on his face in the end, sure, but he’d fallen well.  “You’ve got good balance, got reach—great instincts, which is more important.  Once you get the footwork down, you’ll be set.”  Dick, looking up into those suspicious eyes, realizes as he says it exactly how true it is.  It’ll be tricky, walking the line between Crime Alley and Bruce’s particular brand of do-goodery, but once the kid gets his feet underneath him, he’ll be amazing.  Well.  Nothing else for it, really.  There’s nobody better at finding a tricky balance point than Dick.  “Here, let me show you.”
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leiakenobi · 2 years ago
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nuria-schnee · 3 months ago
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Hi, everyone! ❀
When I said I might write this, I didn't think I'd be going so insane over it, but here we are. The brainrot is strong, and I'm determined to create as much as I can. I love the series with all my heart, and I love this beautiful fandom, and what happened won't stop us, dammit.
I was so angry and sad yesterday that ideas didn't stop coming, and before I knew I had most of the fic outlined and was already working on the screencaps for it.
Anyway, this is my attempt to write the season we deserved. I wanted to bring a bit of content in this hard time for all of us. I hope it works, even if only for a bit. This is just a preview, but I wanted to share even so.
A bit of information
Publication date of the 1st chapter: September 14th
I'll update every two weeks (hopefully)
Every chapter will be an "episode"
Every Wednesday I'll be sharing a "sneak peek" of the next chapter here on Tumblr, so you don't have to wait so long
Every chapter will have a playlist.
I'll be sharing the screencaps of the chapters as the story goes. No spoilers in them, don't worry.
The work on AO3 is already posted, in case someone wants to subscribe already and get the notification when I post the first chapter. Now, there's only an index with what I'm sharing on Tumblr, and I'll update it regularly.
Don't forget to take care of yourselves ❀ See you very soon!
Transcriptions of the summary and chapters below the cut!
Summary
Ghosts are going missing all around London. The disappearances lead Edwin and Charles directly to a mysterious entity, known as The Summoner, that is about to make their afterlives very complicated.
Chapters
The Case of the Flashing Light: Months after returning from Port Townsend, the Dead Boy Detectives find themselves overloaded with cases of ghosts disappearing all around London. As they investigate this mystery, someone seems to be trying to catch Edwin's attention through the agency's mirror.
The Case of the White Realm:
The Case of the Explosive Garden: Things are tense in the agency after the last case, but none of them wants to address it. They are too busy for that. The cases of missing ghosts are piling up on their desk and the Summoner is still out there, hidden in the shadows of the city, causing trouble. The boys manage to track him down and end up in an enchanted mansion, where nothing is what it seems.
 The Case of the Ghostly Masquerade
 The Case of the Blurred Painting
 The Case of the 80s Deathday Party
 The Case of the Star-Crossed Lovers
 The Case of the Dark Void
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singukieee · 5 months ago
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—my all time favourite bts fics (pt. 1) ᯓᥣ𐭩
consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.
For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!
I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!
red means unfinished
blue means finished
đŸ—Żïž editor's note
(sorted by alphabetical order)
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A Place Called Home by @agustdakasuga
Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.
Accidental Friends by Erakun06
Meet Bangtan, international superstars, the pride of South Korea, the love and hope in the dark of many lives, the role model and celebrity crush of so many people, and a group of people you often stumble across in your day to day life. You become acquaintances, slowly become friends, and- that's it. You are in a platonic friendship with Bangtan. Let me say it again. clears throat PLATONIC. Or One day, you meet a member of Bangtan, the next day, another, and another, and another, and one day, they become a group of people you often stumble across in your life. They become your acquaintances. Then your friends. Then your source of comfort, just like they are the source of comfort of millions of people in the world. What you didn't expect is that you become the same to them. It's inevitable. You are friends.
đŸ—Żïž a theme that I don't find much of, and this one was excecuted quite neatly I'd say
Ace For Hire by tokki-maknae
Who is Ace? Besides being the deadliest hitman on the market in the underground, whose really under the hood? The answers simple, well for you at least, because you are Ace. When you're not busy blurring yourself into the background noises of school, you were making a killing in the underground, both literally and figuratively. For years now Ace has become an infamous name among the other gangs and holds the reputation of being lethal and untouchable. But that all changes after a slip up that causes you to attract the unwanted attention of one persistent seven member gang. A gang that's been dying to know, who is Ace?
đŸ—Żïž badassss
At Your Service by @untaemedqueen
In which Yn is looking for an escort to accompany her to her nightmare ex and ex best friend's wedding, only to ended up falling in love with him.
Baby (you complete us) by @purpleyoonn
Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches. Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.
Back Home by AlexLorchan / @alexlwrites
Secretly, he was selfishly hoping that you didn’t age well. Dealing with a small crush was easy enough when he was young and knew next to nothing about girls, when you were just a cute albeit slightly weird girl he had a soft spot for. But he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if his feelings came back with a vengeance while you were living together. God, he would probably lock himself with Jungkook until you went away. OR The one where, after living abroad for years, you move back to Korea and your old high school friend Namjoon offers you his place to stay while you get settled, casually forgetting to mention that: a) he still had a massive crush on you. b) he lived with six other guys.
đŸ—Żïž crack fic! my fave category and this one makes me giggle in both funny way and butterfly-in-my-stomach kinda way
Beauty of Love by @imnotlauriane
When you cross eyes with your soulmate, you get flashes of memories that have yet to happen. You can't see the same memory as the other and it can be either good or bad. It's not always terrible, but a thing is for sure. No matter what you do, it will happen. But are things always what they seem to be?
Between The Bloodshed series by @agustdakasuga
đŸ—Żïž this series... I just love. plot is super neat, relationship doesn't feel forced, etc etc
❶ Between The Bloodshed
Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that you would have to leave your life behind and build a new one.
❷ Everything Between Us
They left you hanging, they broke your heart. You didn’t get your happily ever after. But now they’re back and they’re searching for you to make things right. Could you look past the betrayal to take them back into your life and back into your heart?
Beyond The Stage by Alysheart
Alexis was going through the days simply. She was a college student in Florida, working towards her degree. When she scored tickets to the BTS concert in Korea, she didn't hesitate. She never expected to be soulmates with the seven idols.
Bound by Blood by PurpleQueenie
In a world where vampires and humans have to co-exist, where the line between tolerance and animosity blurs, how can you ever expect to get your happily ever after when your soulmates hate your very existence?
đŸ—Żïž love all the details, the slow burn, gosh just so good
Boyfriend For Hire by @remedyx
Unsatisfied with your life was an understatement. Being under the thumb of your father can have that effect. He wanted someone capable of running the company, but you wanted to pursue your passion. Countless unwanted blind dates and the threat of losing your freedom drives you to seek help from a group of individuals you'd least expected.
Breakthrough by Alphathyx
"My dreams haunt me like past memories that never existed" The Memory Dive, an invention that allows the user to dive into anyone's memories just from the collection of their DNA. Made by Professor Kim Seokjin, he created this device for the worlds secret service to solve mysteries that the ordinary field agents are unable to. With seven agents, ranging from ex military, to a university professor, college student and even a criminal, only these seven are able to use this machine to extract memories of others. They are also the only people that know how to escape it. Discover through their eyes of uncovering the darkest truths of the world, through the minds of victims.
đŸ—Żïž this one's super neat plot with complicated and technical world, just so good
Bright Colors and Loud Soulmates by Mostmouse
You resented soulmates, the whole damn concept. It just wasn't your thing, and you couldn't help but feel jealous of those who were born without soulmates, who could see the world as it was intended to be from birth. When you run into your soulmate, you're determined to stay in your own sphere of the world. Focusing on you. But, because nothing is simple in your life, it turns out he's one of seven - better yet, your seven soulmates are the globally famous band BTS. Because why wouldn't they be? OR you learn how to let your soulmates past your carefully crafted walls, and they’re more than happy to show you what a loving and supportive relationship should look like.
đŸ—Żïž a funny and cute one! (with extra h0rny characters lol)
BTS Office CEO AU by @jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue
You work for seven CEOs who have called you into their office due to a complaint
Can't Wait To See You Again by AlexLorchan / @alexlwrites
The one where Jungkook develops a huge crush on a Youtuber he found after falling into the rabbit hole of his recommended videos. Unbeknownst to him, you were also recommended to his hyungs. Unbeknownst to you, all across the world seven idols were slowly falling in love with you.
đŸ—Żïž I just love the concept of the boys being fanboys :3
Choco Bun by @nunchiimagines
When you moved to Korea after finishing college to continue pursuing latte art and baking, the last thing you were expecting was to open up your very own coffee shop under BTS Corp, Korea’s biggest entertainment service company for idols, models, singers, and more. Thanks to your hard work, creativity, and approachable personality you managed to become friendly with some pretty big named individuals as well as up and coming talent. As exciting and fun as it was for you, you slowly began to realize how much your 7 bosses weren’t particularly fond of this, acts of jealousy, pettiness, and aggression poking through in the most unsuspecting of ways. But what could 7 big named dragons want with a little foreign bunny?
Combined Beings by @numinousher
You are bullied on a constant because korea’s beauty standards do not fit girls on the heavier side. the bullying gets worse once a ceo is attracted to you and he mentioned you to the other 6.
đŸ—Żïž minus the bullying elements, this story is like a comforting sweet cloud
Comfort by http-lostforever
Hybrids have been introduced into society for a handful of years now, the fighting for their rights is still happening but doesn't look promising. But when one girl finds a hybrid in danger she jumps at the chance to help, yet what she didn't know was how upside down her life was about to become. But a word of advice, not everything is as it seems.
Could We Be Together Someday? series by BTS_Mommy / @babyboy-bangtan
đŸ—Żïž mann Idk what to write lol. this is another one that I've re-read thousand times, bcs some of the boys started as fanboys then became clingy friends. also yn's so supportive I just lovee.
❶ By Chance
A misunderstanding gone viral puts you on BTS's radar, which leads to a series of events that finally culminate with you meeting them for the first time.
❷ The Moments in Between
As you become close friends with BTS, you begin to realize that the feelings you have for them are slowly turning into something you're not ready to deal with. Unbeknownst to you, the same is happening to them.
Crave by sweetinsanityy
The boys don't do well with being controlled, but for their group, they'll bite their tongue and put on a smile for management. Yet when you, a new little rookie, stumble upon them, they're like a pack of hungry wolves. Or, the boys are all Doms and they want you to be their perfect little sub.
Cursed Fate by PurpleQueenie
The universe has designed soulmates- someone that completes you. But what happens when you don't have one but seven? And all you want to do is run in the opposite direction when you see them...
đŸ—Żïž queenie's stories are just so good, you should check them all out! this one also has such great details and writing.
Deep Down by sleepingbearandbunny
Jae, unlike everyone else, has nothing against the hybrid species. She likes being alone, where she is safe from ridicule and her controlling father. When a group of hybrids save her from some trouble, fate brings them together once more.
đŸ—Żïž a harsh and complecated world this one, so they went through a lot together and I love that!
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PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | NAVI
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zepskies · 3 months ago
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What Does "Supporting Writers" Mean? ✍
Apparently it's Fanfic Writer Appreciation Day! To all my fellow writers, I truly appreciate you for bringing me joy, making me smile on rough days, and giving me my weekly/daily dose of escapism and warm fuzzies. (Shoutouts to you personally below.) 💓💓
But what does it mean "practically" to appreciate your favorite writers, especially on Tumblr?
For example, I know some fanfic authors are starting to block "serial likers": people who'll go through someone's entire masterlist and hit the "like" button on 20-something stories without commenting or basic reblogging.
While I think blocking them is extreme, I understand the authors' frustrations. I've actually been asked if I'll ever leave Tumblr, since many of them have dropped off over the past few months, or even the past few years.
I'm still here for two very important reasons:
I love to write about my favorite characters. I write primarily because I love it, not just for the kudos.
I'm friggin' blessed to have a lot of friends and lovely readers on here and Ao3 who support me immensely on my writing and on this blog in general. I love and appreciate each and every one of you! Which is why I do my best to reply to your comments and reblogs. 💖💖
Of course, there are many reasons why a writer might take a break or stop writing entirely, but one of those reasons is also why the #supportwriters tag exists...
And why you'll see us include banners like this on our posts:
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(Credits: cafekitsune, me, inklore)
That being said, here's my own rule of thumb on how I try to support my fellow writers when I read something I enjoy:
If I "liked" something, it means I had the time to read a story all the way through and I enjoyed it! (Or I'm bookmarking it for later in the day lol)
If I have the time to read it, I have the time to leave a comment on what I liked the most about it.
If I have the time to write out a comment (anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes), I typically put that comment in a reblog -- maybe even add a gif or two for ✹razzle dazzle.✹ That way I can share it with the rest of my followers, so they can see it and hopefully enjoy it too...
Why? Because Tumblr isn't TikTok or IG. Reblogging is the best way to help a post gain traction on Tumblr. The algorithm doesn't care much about likes.
But on a more human level, supporting writers is just the basic thing of -- if you enjoyed something you read (that a writer shared for free), just let them know what you liked about it.
Remember that there's a person behind the content you enjoy. They might have been working on that story for weeks or months, or even years before they got the courage to post it.
They might really be putting themselves out there, writing about a topic or subject matter that they're not sure people will even like or engage with.
Maybe they're exploring something new, like a character or trope they've never written before.
Maybe they're expressing part of themselves that they haven't even told another living soul.
Maybe they just wanted to write something fun and smutty or angsty or fluffy and want to share the escapism with you.
Whether they've been writing for years or are just starting out, any and all is valid.
For me, as a writer and a reader, supporting my fellow writers often means supporting my friends. And 9 times out of 10, the way we became friends was by leaving feedback on their work and asking them questions, or responding to their awesome feedback on mine.
If you want a little jumpstart on how to leave feedback, whether encouraging or constructive, here's an awesome post about it (not mine).
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Shoutout to some of my favorite writers 💞:
(In no particular order)
@waynes-multiverse @luci-in-trenchcoats @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @thatonewriter15 @rizlowwritessortof
@waywardxwords @tofics @kaleldobrev @deanbrainrotwritings @deanwritings
@jawritter @deanwinchesterswitch @justagirlinafandomworld @ravengirl94 @waywardxwords
@spnbabe67 @deanwanddamons @ejlovespie @kittenofdoomage @venus-haze
@talltalesandbedtimestories @sam-is-my-safe-word @jacklesbrainworms @artyandink @princessmisery666 (I just starting reading your stories, but I'm continuing with Samnesia soon!) -- and I'm sure many more! 💋
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zakumipink · 4 months ago
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Hi tumblr friends!
They always scold me because I don't share links, I don't promote, I don't have comments open or I disappear from the networks... But I forget, I even lose accounts very often, so I will make this post for the two people who read me in english because they asked me for translations and I try, but you already know it's not my language.
I made lists on Ao3, according to language, in case you find it easier to use:
★ Fanfics in Spanish ★ Fanfics in English ★
and here separately:
♡ One Shot ♡
A Picture ~ Spanish | English
Beach ~ Spanish | English
Bunny ~ Spanish | English
Choice ~ Spanish | English
Complicated ~ Spanish | English
Option A ~ Spanish | English
Option B ~ Spanish | English
Date ~ Spanish | English
Debt ~ Spanish | English
Escape ~ Spanish | English
Evasive ~ Spanish | English
Event ~ Spanish | English
I Need A Wish ~ Spanish | English
Invocation ~ Spanish | English
Mistake ~ Spanish | English
Offering ~ Spanish | English
Party ~ Spanish | English
Promise ~ Spanish | English
Red ~ Spanish | English
Room ~ Spanish | English
Surprise ~ Spanish | English
Uniform ~ Spanish | English
What? ~ Spanish
Wish ~ Spanish | English
♡ Fanfics ♡
Another Way ~ Spanish | English
Blue ~ Spanish | English
Lucky One ~ Spanish
Space Baby ~ Spanish | English
Sapphire ~ Spanish | English
Secret ~ Spanish
Summer Love ~ Spanish | English
Sweet Home ~ Spanish | English
The Drowned Song ~ Spanish | English
Vacation ~ Spanish | English
♡ Serie ♡
Interview ~ Spanish
Film Red ~ Spanish | English
Laundry ~ Spanish | English
Masterchef ~ Spanish | English
Nightmare ~ Spanish
About from fanfics: "Lucky One" and "Secret", I don't think I can translate them, I just don't have that much free time. I'm really sorry. I'll try to let you know when I update or do something new... I miss my WordPress blog, I lost three years of posts *lol*
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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 1 year ago
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How to Leave Comments on Fanfiction
So, I recently made a poll to know if people might find it helpful to have a list of things they could talk about when leaving comments on fanfictions, be it on Ao3 or on here. A majority of people were interested in seeing the post so, well, I'm making it. I started writing and posting stuff online when I was a teenager, on a website where leaving constructive criticism was the norm. It's by far the place where I've gotten the most feedback and it was an incredibly formative experience for me as a young writer — and it taught me how to leave detailed comments.
Writing comments doesn't necessarily come easy. It's something that you may need to learn how to do, but the good news is that you can learn how to do it, so don't worry if you don't know what to say at first. Hopefully this list will give you some pointers on how to do that.
This is more or less the list I go through when I want to leave a detailed comment. Even if I don't have a specific idea at first, I'll go through the steps and I never come out empty-handed.
Comment etiquette:
What became apparent with the poll I made was that a lot of people worry about how they'll be perceived by the writers if they leave a comment. Now, obviously, writers aren't a monolith, but 99% of the time writers will be thrilled that you took the time to leave a comment to let them know what you enjoyed in their fic. I cannot stress this enough. We're not going to judge someone based on a positive comment they leave.
As it stands, on Tumblr and Ao3, it's seen as rude to leave negative feedback, unless the author has explicitly asked for it/agreed to it, so that's what I'll be going over here. Since quite a few writers did say on that post that they would like to get constructive comments as well, stay tuned, I'm trying to get something together to do that for authors. Other than that, you're good to go.
The main ways to let an author know your thoughts on a fic on Tumblr are:
reblogging a fic with your thoughts underneath it
reblogging with your thoughts in the tags, which is often less formal
leaving a comment as a 'reaction'
sending in an ask if they're activated on the blog (which means you can stay anonymous, if anon asks are allowed)
Reblogging means that your followers will see the post as well, and is therefore really appreciated on Tumblr.
As a note, you may find different systems work for different fics! Maybe leaving tag rambles works for you when commenting on drabbles, for example for me it's the system I use to leave comments on smut.
General advice:
Everything I'm saying in here is for people who want to be able to leave longer/more detailed comments and don't always know where to start. If, for whatever reason, you're not comfortable or you don't have time to do it at the moment, a simple "I love the fic, thank you for writing it" always goes a long way for an author.
The key thing to keep in mind if you're trying to find something else to say, I think, is to try making the comment specific to the fic you're leaving it on. It shows the writer what you took away from the fic and the fic's strong points, which is both meaningful and helpful to an author.
Comments don't have to be long to be meaningful. Don't stress about writing a ton; a one-sentence comment highlighting the fic's humor or how emotional it made you can be incredibly impactful.
With this out of the way, I'll go through things you can talk about in a comment, starting with what I think is the easiest and moving on to things that could require more thought. You don't have to do all of that. You may never use some of the things on that list. Leaving comments should not be a source of anxiety. So take what you want from the list, maybe come back to it if you need more inspiration, and don't worry too much about it :)
Favorite line(s) : pull from the fic to let the author know what your favorite line was. If you wish, you can expand on that by saying why it was your favorite: did it make you laugh? Did it make you feel something specific? Did the author nail the characterization with it? Was there some incredible metaphor? Did you find it beautiful or poetic even if you can't go into detail? Is there one line in particular at the beginning of the fic that hooked you in and made you want to keep reading?
All of that is very valuable for a writer to know. Some of my favorite comments I've gotten were a list of a reader's favorite lines from a fic with one or two sentences to explain why they liked them, so don't hesitate to do that more than once if you can!
Emotions:  if there’s one thing I know about writers, it’s that we’re thrilled when we’ve made you cry. So tell us: how did the writing make you feel? Did you laugh out loud? If you did, was it the dialogue, or the narrator? Did it make you cry? Which part? Could you relate to one of the characters? Did it make you feel seen? Did the fluff make you feel all fuzzy inside or did the angst twist knots in your stomach? This isn't an exhaustive list, and emotions are great to draw from when you're leaving a comment!
Favorite element of the writing: Is there one thing in the writing that struck you as being particularly good, or what was your favorite thing to read? Is the author a master at writing dialogue? Are their descriptions so good you could see the whole scene? Are they really good at getting in a character's head and describing their emotions? Were you hooked from the start and couldn't stop until you reached the end?
Characterization: Now, this might be less instinctive, but if you've been in a fandom for a while, you'll probably be able to identify these things fairly easily. You can tell the author if you think they've nailed one aspect of a character. Did you have a favorite character in the fic? What did you think of them? Did the author manage to capture their voice? Was the attitude spot-on? Which parts of the character, if you can name them? Were there aspects of the character you particularly enjoyed? Did the author shine a light on something you hadn't considered or on something you don't think is highlighted often enough? Is there one thing from the fic you can actually picture/hear a character doing/saying in your head?
Style: I'd argue this is the hardest part, and you shouldn't feel bad if it's not something you can really comment on. As someone whose first language isn't English, I know I struggle with it. Style can be perceived as the way the author's voice comes through in the text. It can come through in punctuation, in the way sentences are formed, in the choice of the words themselves. If, when you read, you feel something intangible that doesn't fit well in the other categories, it just might be the author's style.
Here are some things (non-exhaustive list, of course) you could say about an author's style: it can be direct, straight to the point. The author doesn't bother with ornaments. Every sentence feels impactful. Maybe the writing feels intense. You're overwhelmed by the characters and their feelings and you feel truly engulfed in the story. Maybe the style is light and airy. It's so easy to read you don't even notice you are reading. Maybe the writing is intricate. Going through it is like piecing a puzzle together, sentences are foreshadowing and metaphors reveal deep truths about the characters. Maybe the style is rich. While not always the easiest, it's a pleasure to read through it, the author has a wide vocabulary, and you might want to compare it to a well-written novel.
If you identify specific elements of that style (metaphors, interesting use of punctuation, etc.), don't hesitate to point them out and let the author know you enjoy them!
That is it for this post, hopefully it doesn't look too daunting — again, you absolutely do not need to do all that in any comment, but maybe going through this list can help you leave comments for authors you enjoy.
I like to end my comments with 'Thank you for writing and sharing this with us', so I'll tell you thank you for reading, I hope this was helpful, and please consider reblogging if you'd like to save this or if you think it could help someone else!
As a bonus, my friend @elidebrey and I (but mostly her) made a 'checklist' for commenting, to help remember all this if that's something you'd like, so use at will!
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A big thank you to @elidebrey, @yoongihan and @antoniorhinothethird for their precious opinions on this ♄
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ktredshoes · 3 months ago
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HBO War Fanfiction Stats
Let me start by saying that I am not in any sense criticizing anybody's taste in HBO War relationships. In my opinion, any well-written fanfic, regardless of ship, is worthy. Heck, any fanfic is worthy — it takes a special type of creative courage to write and share a fanfiction story so that others might appreciate what you see in characters you love. So, that's the first thing.
Buckle up, I get wordy. More under the cut.
Tagging a handful of folks who showed interest in my decidedly unscientific findings: @onyxsboxes @jesslovesboats @itstheheebiejeebies @onekisstotakewithme @sparkling-strychnine
Trying something here: @meyerlansky @anachilles @astolovewithallmyheart @dano-png
I started down this fanfiction stat rabbit hole about four years ago when I started looking at The Pacific tags on Archive of Our Own (AO3). I was trying to figure out if it was just my imagination or not that everything other than Sledgefu in TP fanfic felt like a rarepair. I was not surprised to find statistical backup for what anecdotally felt true.
I love all the HBO War series — and for the record, I consider Band of Brothers, The Pacific, Generation Kill, and Masters of the Air to all be part of this fandom community. I won't get into trying to rank them or make the case that one is better than another — they are all related in being stories of men at war, and three specifically stories of men at war during World War II — but direct comparisons, in my opinion, are apples to oranges to prosciutto to tiramisu. They all have different raison d'etres. So that's the second thing.
(I will admit to a particular soft spot for The Pacific as the overlooked "younger brother" to Band of Brothers, precisely because of the tendency of some to negatively compare it to BoB. TP was never intended to be "part two" of Band of Brothers — I was listening recently to a podcast with Tony To, an executive producer of both shows, who asserted that BoB was, yes, about the brotherhood of war, but TP was about the cost of war. )
Anyway.
A couple of days ago, I saw someone post about the fact that the Cleven/Egan ship in Masters of the Air was about to hit 1,000 stories on AO3 — and since I knew that the total number of stories was only about 1,400ish, I figured it was time to take a look at MotA stats too. And that led to looking at GK stats and BoB stats and once I finished, I was really struck by what I saw.
I have a whole spreadsheet looking at the four shows, with breakdowns by relationship and character, with percentages of total stories. (I've posted some graphics from those spreadsheets below, not to worry.)
So what did I learn?
The Pacific and Masters of the Air both are overwhelmingly dominated by a single ship — Sledgefu in the case of TP and Clegan in the case of MotA.
As of August 10, 2024, there were 1,500 stories on AO3 tagged for The Pacific, and 1,485 tagged for Masters of the Air. Sledgefu features in 884 of TP stories, which is 58.93% of the total.
You might think that's an astounding total — but Clegan features in an astonishing 986 of MotA stories, or 66.4% of all stories. The falloff in the next highest ship in each fandom is precipitous: Hilldane in 14% of TP stories (210), and Crubbles in 8.82% of MotA stories (131).
If you are a fan of any ship aside from the most popular pairing in these two fandoms, that has got to be terribly discouraging. You wouldn't think the dropoff would be so high if you're at all active in the HBO War fandom on Tumblr, based on what's posted on a daily basis, but if your entry to HBO War fanfic is solely on AO3, what would you think?
I will once again state that I'm making no judgement on anybody's favorite pairing — I'm making a case on behalf of all the other ships. I'll also note that there are many, many fics posted to Tumblr that never make it to AO3, and I would very much encourage those authors to please please please consider posting your stories to AO3! (If you don't have an account on AO3, it currently takes about 10 days from requesting an invitation to receiving it, which is not that long in the scheme of things.)
The popularity of TP and MotA characters in these stories shows a similar disparity between the most popular and everybody else. In The Pacific, Snafu features in 63.53% of AO3 stories (953) and Sledge in 62.6% (939). No one else is as high as even 20% -- Burgie is in 17.2% (258) and Ack Ack is in 15.6% (234) and Hillbilly in 14.73% (221). The other two ostensibly lead characters in TP are Bob Leckie (12.53% or 188 stories) and John Basilone (1.67% or 25). I find that just shocking.
MotA is both better and worse. There are 10 characters who appear in 10% or better of posted stories on AO3 — but the dropoff from most popular to next highest is even more dramatic. Bucky Egan features in 77.9% of stories (1,157) and Buck Cleven in 74.28% (1,103). The next highest is not, as you might think, Harry Crosby or Rosie Rosenthal, the other featured lead characters in the series. It's Curt Biddick, who is in 25.19% of stories (374), followed by Croz in 23.7% (352). Next is Rosie, who is tied with John Brady — both in 16.9% or 251 stories. What a steep drop!
But, hey, at least there are a baker's dozen plus one of characters who feature in at least 100 MotA stories:
Egan: 1,157 stories (77.91%)
Cleven: 1,103 (74.28%)
Biddick: 374 (25.19%)
Crosby: 352 (23.7%)
Brady: 251 (16.9%)
Rosenthal: 251 (16.9%)
DeMarco: 243 (16.36%)
Payne: 225 (15.15%)
Lemmons: 181 (12.19%)
Hamilton: 167 (11.25%)
Marge Spencer: 146 (9.83%)
Douglass: 139 (9.36%)
Kidd: 130 (8.75%)
Blakely: 111 (7.47%)
After 14 years, will TP ever develop more diversity on AO3? Probably doubtful — though since I first checked the stats in 2020, Hilldane has gained 2%, so there's slow change but some change. Eight months in since the birth of the MotA fandom, and Clegan, and by extension Bucky and Bucky, are steamrollering the rest of the MotA relationships and characters on AO3 — based on what I see on Tumblr, I don't know if that huge disparity will hold up, but who knows? It's still a very new fandom.
But what about GenKill and BoB, you say?
Well, as you might have guessed, there's a clear delineation in GK between the top ship and the next ones below it, but the dropoff is not nearly as dramatic as in TP and MotA.
There are 3,024 Generation Kill stories on AO3 as of August 10, 2024, and the number one ship is Brad/Nate, with 1,261 stories, or 41.7% of the total. Next highest is Brad/Ray, with 677 stories, or 22.39%. The top three characters are Brad, featured in 63.82% of stories (1,930), then Ray, featured 52.35% of the time (1,583 stories), followed by Nate (45.44% or 1,374 stories). Next is Walter Hasser at 571 stories (18.88%), followed by Poke Espera at 284 stories (9.39%), Mike Wynn at 262 stories (8.66%), then Doc Bryan at 254 stories (8.4%). There's that dropoff again!
And as for Band of Brothers? After nearly 21 years on AO3 (the oldest story dates from November 2003), there are 5,016 BoB stories on AO3, with a huge number of ships and characters — albeit some quite small. Frankly, I stopped counting after getting to 70 relationships and 55 characters — I just got tired!
Still.
Let me add that the earliest BoB stories on AO3 are not well tagged for ships or characters — many don't have any tags at all. I don't know the reason for it — whether the tagging system in the early AO3 days wasn't easy to navigate, or maybe the lack of tagging was a holdover from earlier systems or archives? I have no idea how well-tagged stories were on LiveJournal, Dreamwidth, or Fanfiction.net. So anyhow, early BoB stories on AO3, if tagged according to current standards, would definitely change the stats but I have no insight on how it might shift them, except definitely upward for the most popular characters and ships.
At any rate: onward.
The top BoB ships on AO3 are 1) Winnix — 1,250 stories or 24.92%, 2) BabeRoe — 771 stories or 15.37%, 3) Webgott — 663 stories or 13.22%, and 4) Speirton — 662 stories or 12.4%.
Moving on to characters, there are a dozen that feature in 10% or better of the BoB total. Take a look:
Winters: 1,173 stories (34.35%)
Nixon: 1,652 (32.93%)
Roe: 1,380 (27.51%)
Speirs: 1,135 (22.63%)
Heffron: 1,125 (22.43%)
Luz: 1,063 (21.19%)
Liebgott: 1,058 (21.09%)
Lipton: 978 (19.5%)
Webster: 790 (15.75%)
Toye: 749 (14.93%)
Guarnere: 686 (13.68%)
Malarkey: 514 (10.25%)
That's a much more even distribution here, without the massive dropoff in the other three fandoms. Or as @itstheheebiejeebies put it to me: "BoB fans feast on variety. It's a grazing table instead of main and side courses." Just so.
So what do I take from all this? I mean, in the case of MotA, I came into the fandom all gaga over Callum Turner and thus Bucky Egan. But then I quickly veered off into following Benny DeMarco (Adam Long) and for the past several months I've fallen under the spell of Everett Blakely (David Shields). Will I stay there? I have no idea! And that's kind of exhilarating.
But here's what I know for sure: as I continue to read and write HBO War fanfic, I'm going to be doing my best to support the ships and characters out of the top tier.
Creators: Don't just post your fanfic to Tumblr — post it to AO3 and tag it.
Be the change that you want to see.
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Now, as promised, here are the stats in graphic form.
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moonchild701 · 1 month ago
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Dream Demon
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[NSFW] ‌ 18+ >MDNI<
Summary: Incubus Dabi comes for a meal
Pairing: Incubus!Dabi/Human Fem Reader
Content Warning: R*pe/Noncon, Dubcon, DARK FIC, Aphrodisiacs, Incubus Dabi, Nightmares, Sleep Paralysis, Paralysis, Mutilation, Genital Mutilation, Blood, Gore
Word Count: 2.4k
Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi
A/N: This is for a Halloween Challenge in one of the communities here on Tumblr. I used four prompts from the challenge, plus my own for funsies, so I'll be posting every Thursday up to and including Halloween.
Promt: Incubus & Nightmare
As always, cross posted on AO3
Happy Halloween and Enjoy!💕
My Masterlist
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You're used to the haunting nightmares. Of things from your past, of all sorts of horrible possibilities, of people and things that scare you, that could hurt you.
Sometimes they're so vivid and realistic, when you wake up, you mistake it for reality.
Sometimes they're so hazy and random, you can barely remember them.
Sometimes you wake up jolting upright, scream tearing from your throat, voice hoarse afterwards.
Sometimes you wake up frozen and stiff, unable to move but wide awake. Breathing is hard, and you swear you see shadows, hear whispers, feel puffs of breath on your skin, raising goosebumps in their path. You don't know what is real, what is dream, how to breathe, how to move.
It lasts mere minutes that feel like hours, and when it's done, you feel drained.
You don't know how to explain this to someone in a way they can understand, so you don't bother.
You are accustomed to it, have accepted that it's simply another aspect of your life.
And then something shifts.
At one point, you swear you see the silhouette of someone hovering over you in your paralyzed state. It was towards the end of it, for maybe two seconds, and then you could breathe and move, and the silhouette was gone.
You dismissed it as a trick of the light.
How naive.
It kept happening, for longer periods of time, randomly. Sometimes it's there, sometimes it isn't.
And now, today something changes.
It's a vivid dream, vivid nightmare, vivid memory. Something you've dreamt about and relived over and over, and nothing ever truly changes. Not the dark, the moon, nor the cold.
Except for this time.
Because this time, you feel the warm pressure on your chest.
It's almost pleasant at first. Something different, something warm in the cold loneliness and fear that usually saturate your dreams.
And then it gets warmer. And warmer. And hot. Hotter. Your very blood boils, your skin blistering, the fear of your nightmare fading to the pure terror of burning up inside out from the unknown source.
Your surroundings are so heated you can see the heatwaves in the air around you, yet your bones are cold, heavy to the point of weighing you down and pinning you to the spot. You can't move.
You try to find your voice, to scream and get this to stop, but it feels like there's a hand wrapped around your throat, blocking your air and your voice. You want to scream, to cry, but you can't.
A near blinding flash of a pale blue light forces your eyes shut instinctively, making you stumble and fall backwards, but it only lasts a second. You snap your eyes back open only to be confused and even more terrified, which you didn't think was possible.
Because though the scorching heat subsides back into a low warmth, there's someone looming over you, his hand on your throat.
A pair of glowing twin flames of blue stare at you. The slitted pupils are unnerving, the intensity of them overwhelming.
The skin below his eyes are an inky purple, almost black, and a gradient of the same colouring creeps along his jaw and cheeks, down his neck and collarbones. There's the same dark pigmentation creeping up his arms to his biceps, piercings seeming to hold the colour to pale skin. You can see more of the same colouring and piercings on his bare lower torso.
The low light illuminates the silver littering his face, body and pointed ears, and the gleam of sharp teeth in his wide grin.
Tall, sleek black horns that curl up and back from within his dark hair, and large leathery, batlike wings on his back are surely a hallucination.
The hold on your throat mercifully loosens as he leans in to whisper into your ear.
"Oh, you're going to be delicious." His voice is low, smoky and deep, the words a saccharine whisper, his warm breath hitting your cheek as he traces a short, sharp claw along your other cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.
You shudder, in both fear and something else that scares you even more, as you stare up at him when he pulls back.
He grins that wretched grin as he coos, "I can smell your interest, Sweetheart." Leaning in, his forked tongue licks up the stripe of blood on your cheek, the cut stinging. "I can taste it."
He can taste the tang of despicable arousal that mixes with your fear, and you hate yourself that bit more for it.
You try to move, try to scream, but nothing happens. Nothing moves but your eyes as they frantically look around for the nonexistent way to escape.
So lost in your terror, you don't notice him move again, until you feel the soft brush of lips along your throat; that forked tongue following the touch, hot and wet against your skin. 
His claws tear through your thin clothes with frightening ease, before heated hands start to move over your now bare body; up your sides and across your chest, toying with your nipples, while his mouth roams your skin, leaving bites and licks, and marks and bruises in its wake as he makes his way down the length of your body.
The stimulation sends betraying heat through you, down to your core. You feel yourself getting aroused, the wetness between your legs mortifying.
Yet, it is tempting. Hypnotizing.
The desire to just give yourself over to that heat, to let this creature do what he wants, make you feel good with whatever he's doing to your body, be it here in your dreams or in the waking world, is vicious and strong.
But the moment that thought barely even occurs, instead of the hands bringing soft touches and treacly pleasure, there is agony.
Searing and blinding as his claws drag slow and deep into the flesh of the sides of your thighs, yet you cannot scream. Warm blood pours out of you as the gashes weep, tears stream down your cheeks as you try and fail even to sob.
He chuckles darkly.
“How rude of me,” he murmurs, biting into your inner thigh, just enough to leave a deep bruise. “I forgot my manners. I haven’t even introduced myself. You may call me Dabi. I want to hear you scream my name, after all.”
There's no time to process what he said as your autonomy is returned, though barely. You immediately let out a ragged sob, in pain and terror, as you uselessly try to escape.
He wastes no time in going right back to playing with your body, with the places where you're sensitive. His hands alternating between pinching at your sensitive nipples and pressing along the tender edges of your wounds as he licks a stripe up your wet folds, to your clit, making you gasp, writhe, and moan.
His tongue feels like hot velvet, your cunt tingling from his aphrodisiac-laced saliva, and you can’t help but cry out his name when he slips the slick appendage into you; and you find that it feels like a curse and a plea on your tongue, your pussy dripping.
“Mmm that’s it,” he growls against your drenched heat, the sound distinctly not human. “Let me hear you scream my fucking name.”
You're delirious and disoriented as the contrasting sensations of terror, pain and pleasure writhe under your skin, soaking your brain and heart.
You let out a broken, whimpering sob as you feel something wrap around your thigh and force your legs open a little wider, tight around the gash he left there, making it bleed even more, the blood pooling beneath you.
Looking down, you notice that it's a long, spaded tail, the colour of his marks, that's holding you open for the demon. 
Because that's very obviously what this thing is. A demon.
Spread wide enough for clawed fingers to press against your—no.
No, no, no, no, NO!
You thrash and scream, but the hot hand and tail around your thighs tighten to keep you still, and clawed fingers tear their way inside, no matter how slowly they go.
The pain is blinding. Nauseating.
Pain radiates through your entire being, and the trembling and sobbing certainly don't help you, only furthering your mutilation as he spreads them wide, stretching you out.
Warmth trickles down your legs, the mixture of your previous arousal and blood soaking your skin and the surface below you.
And oh.
You forgot that that was only the entry.
You forgot to prepare yourself for the exit, and so you scream as he tears you open freshly when the fingers leave, your eyes clenched tightly, and then something much bigger presses inside your unwilling body.
That sensation paired with the pulsing pain of his tail around your injured thigh has you letting out a sobbing scream as your eyes fly open.
The sound is abruptly cut off as you wake up, with terror soaking your mind and soul, hazy with disorientation, and nothing moves but your eyes, and your throat that spasms for air. For a moment, your body is locked up and paralyzed again, feeling like a volcanic rock rests on your chest, and just as your ability to move and see clearly returns, the barely shaken terror of your nightmare slams back into you with full force.
Because it was not simply a nightmare.
If the pulsing pain coursing through you isn't evidence enough, the glow of the demon's eyes in the dark of your room as they look at you, illuminating his markings and piercings around them with the little light being cast, certainly is, and you give a broken sob.
But the sound breaks off into a traitorous moan when his hips rock into yours; your fear-saturated mind finally realizing that the pain is rapidly going away, making way for heady pleasure.
You can feel the way your skin knits back together until the only evidence left of the wounds are the blood soaked sheets, and the smear of crimson on your skin.
A low, breathless moan escapes you as Dabi rolls his hips, and you tremble and writhe beneath him for a whole different reason, as you feel how full you are of the demon's cock and the treacherously delicious stretch of your cunt around him.
Heart pounding in your ears, you feel a bead of sweat trickle down the side of your forehead as he pumps into you, slow and deep, hitting your sweet spot on every thrust; the fear and arousal swirling as one in your stomach. His pace gradually picks up, until he's fucking into you mercilessly, and your eyes roll back.
Your pleasure builds and builds, and you can do nothing to stop it, you don't even know if you truly even want it to stop, and then you feel something inside of you, alongside your approaching climax, shift.
It's a foreign sensation, like something is under your skin, tangled along your veins, moving. It doesn't hurt, but it feels strange. Your heart is racing, and you're sure that he can hear it.
You're on the edge, so, so close, and then, you feel that strange shifting thing start to crawl up; into the back of your throat, and spilling out into your mouth, though you can't taste anything on your tongue, as your orgasm crashes over you with a sob, wisps of blue spilling out from your lips. Your cunt clamps down around him as you shudder and pant.
His eyes glow a little brighter as he grins, a monstrous, depraved thing, sharp and cruel and mocking, as he coos, "Thank you for the meal." His voice is a low purr, the tone all dark pleasure he leans in close, bracing his weight on one arm, his other hand catching your chin and forcing your mouth open, as his hips slow to a deep roll. Your fear spikes sharper as you once again can't move, as the thought that this man, this thing, is going to kiss you, and your eyes sting with tears, as though he hasn't already taken your body.
But no, he simply leans in close, enough for your noses to brush.
You see a faintly glowing blue cloud of mist pour out from between your lips, almost the same shade as his eyes, as he opens his mouth, sharp fangs bared, shotgunning it, and you can do nothing but lay there in your terrified confusion and let him do what he wants to you, whatever it is he's doing to you.
He groans, deep and guttural, as he swallows the mist, his hips moving a little rougher. You're sensitive and overstimulated, a whine stuck in your immobile throat.
You feel his cock twitch within you, his eyes rolling shut as he spills his release deep inside you, filling you with his hot cum; a confusing heat settling into the skin of your lower abdomen.
And when the fog finally stops pouring from your lips, and he gets his fill, he smiles; indulging in your fear and whatever he just took from you, be that the fear itself, your nightmare or your very soul.
You take a shuddering breath as control of your limbs comes back to you, but they feel like lead and you still can't make yourself move.
Glancing down, your breath hitches as you see the cause for the heated sensation in your abdomen.
Just below your navel, above where the monster's cock is still buried inside of you, is an intricate mark, a tattoo, the colour of his eyes etched into your skin, and your tears finally fall, because deep down, you know what it means.
Branding you as his, there is no escape.
And you want to fight, to scream, to do something, but exhaustion is taking a hold on you.
"Go to sleep," he instructs, his voice is a whisper, yet seems to echo, and you struggle to keep your eyes open. A futile effort, as you don't manage anything else before the dark is swallowing you back up in a blissfully dreamless slumber.
The last thing you hear is his haunting voice chuckling,
"Time for seconds." 
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steddieunderdogfics · 10 days ago
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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: thisapplepielife! @thisapplepielife has 37 works posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 24 of them are in the Steddie tag!
Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @thisapplepielife:
Tuesday's Gone With the Wind
Take the Money and Run
You Oughta Know
Never Not Mine
Let the Boy Be Merry
"They are my favorite Corroded Coffin writer. I found by accident their fic “Tuesday's Gone With the Wind” and loved everything they wrote since!" -- Anonymous
Below the cut, @thisapplepielife answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!
Why do you write Steddie?
Steve Harrington. I found myself not connecting with S4 when it premiered, and decided that I probably just needed to rewatch the other three seasons again first, since it'd been a while between seasons. Well, Steve was always my favorite, but I left that re-watch with his voice fully lodged in my brain. So, I had to write something for him, just for myself. That was You Oughta Know. We all knew Eddie identified as a runner, and that just felt like the story to tell. Then somehow, for some unknown reason that I still cannot possibly explain, I decided to actually post it. I still don't know what possessed me to do that, honestly.
What’s your favorite trope to READ?
I love a good second chance fic: A divorced couple that eventually rekindles. A missed first chance that they get to take another crack at, later in life. I also like a good heartbreaker of a fic. I know, I know. Don't get me wrong, I still love happy endings, but I don't require them. Break my heart. Do it.
What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?
Slice of life? Is that considered a trope? I know I like to write about things we all deal with in real life, from the small and inconsequential: a mattress with a bad spring. The delight of clean sheets. Or the bigger: the real life heartbreak of unavoidable loss and grief.  And older Steddie is my favorite, I think. I love to spend time writing for them. These boys that turned into men, who made a full life together, and it's great. Maybe not perfect. But they wouldn't trade it for the world. That makes me happiest.
What’s your favorite Steddie fic?
The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting by badpancake is the one I think of that grabbed me first, and did not let go. I still need to read the final part of the trilogy! My fic TBR is so, so long because I definitely struggle with writing and reading at the same time. I know there is amazing work out there that I've just never read yet. But I look forward to it, absolutely. It's just something I've never figured out how to manage well. Joining Tumblr has helped that immensely, though! Reading the shorter fics here has been wonderful, and I've enjoyed it so much. There are amazing things being posted every single day! And I gotta say that don't start (too late) by Ark is one of the best "first time" fics I've ever read in any fandom. Eddie's inner voice is wonderful. I believe every word he thinks while he experiences this brand new thing with Steve.
Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?
It's not brand new to me, but there's a found family one that I've been tinkering with for a very long time, and that excites me.  And I do love events for tossing me situations or prompts to write for that I may not have thought of, independently. @steddiemicrofic especially has been so, so fun. I think it was the very first event I wrote for on Tumblr, and the challenge of having a very limited amount of words, but still trying to make it feel like a whole story has been told, has been a blast. Thanks to @wynnyfryd and @steddieas-shegoes for challenging us all each month!
What is your writing process like?
I don't outline or anything. I just write, and edit, as I go. And I'll edit obsessively. I'll tweak and change small things over and over, ad nauseam. And even then, I know I still miss mistakes. But my mistakes are my own, I have no beta, because I kind of like being solely responsible for anything I write. Right or wrong. Here it is, take it or leave it. I also talk things through things in my own head a lot, especially dialogue, or I'll open a document, and just see where that takes me. And if I'm writing a long fic, like Tuesday's, I write totally out of order when scenes come to me. I wrote on every single year of that fic all at once. Then kept writing until they'd stitched themselves together into a full story. That's my last part of writing. Putting in the transitions from one scene to the next, when needed.  Sometimes ideas are more fully formed before I start putting words to the page, and other times I literally just start and figure it out as I go. There's one fic I wrote for Steddiemas last year where I sat Steve down at a mall food court and then just started writing. I had no idea what that was going to be. (It was Eddie turning up as the Mall Santa.)  Also: Research, research, research. I love the research aspect of writing. I'm curious in general, and if I can even think to look something up to see if it's true, or of the right time period, I will. And I like to add mixed media to my fics. That was a huge part of Take the Money & Tuesday's. All the newspaper articles and such. I felt like they were needed to make it feel like this really happened to these characters we all love so much. I did newspaper articles all throughout writing Tuesday's. In fact, I think that main article, the one at the top, was written and designed very early on in the writing process. They weren't all done at the end, they were done as the story needed them.
Do you have any writing quirks?
Short paragraphs. I love 'em. You'll pry them from my cold, dead fingers. Also see: Long sentences.  Honestly, I do like to throw out the rules, a bit. I write by feel. How does it sound, to my own ear? If it works, for my character, my fic or just me in general, I'll use it. "Don't use two "ands" in a sentence." Okay, but sometimes I'm gonna when that flows the best. Or: "That's a run-on." Okay, but I like the way it reads. "You don't need a comma there." But, I like the way that it breathes, so it's getting one. All this is especially true if writing from someone's POV. I know I don't always think in proper grammar, and I don't expect them to either. I don't want things to feel hard to read, but I do want them to feel natural. If that makes sense. I walk around, pacing as I write or edit on my phone, as if the moving somehow lets me see it differently. I think it does! And I don't know if this is a quirk, but some of the characterizations formed while writing Tuesday's have stuck, hard. Gareth is Gareth Jones, and where you find him, you'll probably find Di. Freak is Goodie. Jeff is Jeff Williams. These things have been decided in my brain, and now I feel compelled to take them with me, fic-to-fic. I didn't intend to build a headcanon I wouldn't be able to shake, but here we are.  I feel like I can transplant Steve and Eddie anywhere, into anything, and be comfortable changing things up. But the Corroded Coffin boys are cemented, as they were created, for the most part. Maybe that's because I did have to do so much shaping for them. Steve and Eddie, we know. We're all working off a decent amount of canon content. Corroded Coffin only had a few moments on screen to help flesh any of us flesh them out into real characters. And now that I've made my choices, for good or bad, they're here to stay.
Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?
Finished, definitely. My three long fics were all mostly written before I started posting, and I still struggled to get the last part of All of Across the Universe out in a timely fashion. Tuesday's was posted over one week, one chapter per day, and I really enjoyed that fast schedule. It didn't give me any extra time to overthink the finished product. It was going out, and that was that. I had to trust that I knew what I was doing when I deemed it finished.
Which fic are you most proud of?
Tuesday's Gone With the Wind. I truly thought I was done after Take the Money and Run. And then this idea slapped me in the face, and I spent five months just lost in their world. These versions of the characters came so naturally, and they are still with me today. I feel like most of what I've written since then is shaped by those versions. Also, that was the last fic I wrote without anything else coming down the pipe. The last one before I joined Tumblr. The last one that had my full, and utter, undivided attention. It's really special to me, and I'm beyond grateful to everyone that has embraced it and recommended it to friends. I know it's got some scary warnings, but for those that have dove in and let me know that it spoke to you in some way, you've made me so happy. It spoke to me, too.
How did you get the idea for Tuesday's Gone With the Wind?
By watching the documentary "If I Leave Here Tomorrow" about the band Lynyrd Skynyrd. As I was watching it, there was an interview section where one of the band members spoke about their assistant road manager, saying: "He was like a bartender roadie. Where he took care of us really good, you know? Anybody who was sick, or needed a little more attention, he was just there for you. He was like the big brother, and sister, and your mama and everything." My brain whispered, Steve Harrington.  And that was that. Corroded Coffin were going to get Road Manager Steve Harrington, and he was gonna take care of them as they headed towards this unavoidable disaster. I wrote like 5k words the first night. It was just in there, waiting to spill out, somehow. And I think it's also an anomaly for me, but I'm fairly certain I started that fic with what turned out to be the opening. That first bit of Eddie's first interview section. I think that's where I started telling the story, and it held throughout. That's pretty rare for me. (Fun fact: I wrote all the interview bits in a separate document, and then just fit and tweaked them into the story, as needed. But not that opening. That was the launch pad into everything else.)
When writing Tuesday's Gone With the Wind, what was something you didn’t expect?
It's not exactly a Steddie answer, but - Gareth! Gareth Jones, my beloved. I wasn't on Tumblr when I wrote Tuesday's or any other social media in a fandom way. I was in my own bubble, doing my own thing. So, I didn't know the fandom had given him a fanon surname. I chose my own, and now he's just Gareth Jones to me, and always will be. He's also Eddie's best friend. I've pondered on more than one occasion on if Take the Money and Run would be different if I knew that first, lol. Just exploring my version of a character that had so little screen time to work off was incredibly fun. And has remained fun. Gareth is definitely gonna show up again in my future works. He's to Eddie, as Robin is to Steve in my head now and forevermore.
What inspired Take the Money and Run?
These lyrics from the song "Me and Paul" by Willie Nelson: Almost busted in Laredo But for reasons that I'd rather not disclose But if you're staying in a motel there and leave Just don't leave nothing in your clothes I had a literal shower thought that made me laugh. And thought, well, why are they even in a motel? Oh, they must be on a road trip. So, I wrote that little scene mainly in my head, but jotted it down, just in case, and assumed that was the end of it. But then I just kept writing it. Until I was knee deep in maps and mileage and research trying to figure this road trip out from a logistics standpoint. All because I thought it'd be funny if Eddie left weed in his pants and Steve got all put upon because of it.
What was your favorite part to write from You Oughta Know?
I loved getting to include all the fun 90s things, since that's when I was a teen, and can remember a lot of it very distinctly, first-hand. And I loved getting to use El's powers to look in on Eddie, so while they might not know where he is, they did know that he seemed to be doing okay out there in the world. Also, if I could go back and change one thing about it, I'd fix that I said Eddie's never had an acoustic guitar. I didn't notice his acoustic in his room until my re-watch. Oh well. This version of Eddie didn't, I guess, lol. (This might be from the second part, Eddie's POV. But still. It's my Roman Empire. I think of this mistake at least once a week and beat myself up. If I'd been on Tumblr at the time, I feel this would have never happened, because someone would have blogged about it, drawing my attention to it, surely.)
How do/did you feel writing Never Not Mine?
This one is heavily inspired by the Taylor Swift song imgonnagetyouback. It was fun to dig into a slightly angstier world for a bit. Because things don't always work out, or if they do, not always the first time around. I like to think they'll find each other again, in any universe, but they might not take the easiest path. They aren't perfect, and that's realistic.
What was the most difficult part of writing Let the Boy Be Merry?
Crying while writing it. This one slapped me around a little while writing. Life isn't always as romantic as fic leads us all to believe which, the audacity, honestly, lol, but the kind of love and relationship in this fic? That feels real to me. Old, and familiar, and even as well as you know a person, you can't read their mind. You don't always get what the other needs immediately, you don't get how important things can be to them, but figuring out how to compromise is love. Real, lasting love.
Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?
This question was hard! I'm gonna pick two from Tuesday's: For the first, I cried while writing and then cried again while editing the scene where Eddie and Steve hash out how serious their relationship is, and realize they've kind of been on different pages. There are two scenes in Tuesday's that got to me, and made me cry while writing them, over and over, and I don't even know why. (The other is Gareth picking that fight with Steve. Yeah, yeah, I know. Neither of these parts are the saddest parts of Tuesday's. But they stripped me raw, for whatever reason.) And a second, more fun, favorite: I'm gonna go with the scene where Eddie's naked and tripping on mushrooms in the backyard while Steve hangs out with him, and Eddie thinks they've written "Tom Sawyer" by Rush. That was so fun, and just a feel good write, if that makes sense. That whole summer they spent at the lake I look back on writing fondly. They are so in love there. They are all happy. And this scene is carefree in a way that they won't always be, due to circumstances coming down the pipe.
Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?
I run @corrodedcoffinfest and I've got a whole list of planned pop-up events coming up over the next few months for that. Steddie is absolutely welcome, so if anyone would like a little more Corroded Coffin works in their life, consider coming to join us! I also finally updated my masterlist, so everything I've written for Stranger Things is finally gathered together. There's a lot that's still only on Tumblr and not on Ao3 at this point.
Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?
Thanks so much for including me and my works in this! And to the person who nominated me, thank you, thank you! You really made my day. It was fun to think about these fics again, and answer these questions. I've really enjoyed writing for Steddie, and I've also enjoyed making friends in the fandom. Thanks for welcoming me. Thanks for showing my fics love, and commenting or leaving kudos or reblogging. Just, thank you all so much. And I'm sorry if these answers were too long, lol. As a habitual "end notes" kind of writer, that's just the way I roll. 
Thank you to our author, @thisapplepielife, and our anonymous nominator! See more of thisapplepielife's works featured on our page throughout the day!
Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!
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carryonthroughtheages · 4 days ago
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Carry On Through the Ages 2024 Masterlist
COTTA is a Simon Snow fandom event where content creators celebrate their love of history along with their love of Snowbaz. We had open posting this past week, and I am so excited to see the incredible content everyone came up with!
Here's a handy list of contributions:
Fanfiction:
(You can also view our collection over at AO3 here)
"give them hope, give them strength, give them life" by @wellbelesbian (Tumblr post) Rated M, Chapters 2/2 posted, late 20th century AU.
A look into Simon and Baz's life through the years. Set after Shoulder To Shoulder, Hand To Hand (from COTTA 2023).
"Fin de siĂšcle" by @ninemagicks (Tumblr post) Rated T, Chapters 1/5 posted, a turn-of-the-20th-century AU.
It's 1900, and as one century is set to be put to rest, its successor seems destined for a treacherous start. T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch, famed Book Keeper, spends his days repairing magickal texts infected by a rampaging spell-chewing malaise. When he receives a knock at the door late one night, he allows a stranger to slip into his life whom it might prove difficult to ever be rid of... ...Simon Snow, naturally, is no ordinary customer. He couldn't tell you the last book he read if his life depended on it, for one thing. The other thing is that he's really a thief, and one on a mission. No magickal bookshop or much-maligned Book Keeper is safe...
"The Bishop's Escape" by @run-for-chamo-miles (Tumblr post) Rated M, Chapter 1/1 posted, medieval era AU
Simon and Baz find a connection. Then, they try to hold onto it. Baz has to battle the conformist voices in his head, and Simon needs some time before he’s ready to open up about his past.
"My Favorite Things" by @run-for-chamo-miles (Tumblr post) Rated T, Chapter 1/1 posted, 1960's AU
1965; Simon gets Baz tickets to a show at ABC Theatre.
"In Truth" by @fiend-for-culture (Tumblr post) Rated M, Chapters 3/12 posted, Regency era AU
A Regency Era AU in which the long absent Tyrannus Basilton makes a reappearance in society at the start of London's Social Season much to the thrill and torment of his former roommate one Simon Snow.
Fanart:
“Spit it out Pitch, I know you’re plotting something!” by @alexalexinii (Film Noir)
"An old photograph" by @ic3que3n (inspired by a vintage photograph)
"Hostis Humani Generis" by @lamentable-comedy (Pirates!)
"Soda Jerk" by @rimeswithpurple (Norman Rockwell inspired, 1950's)
"A Prophesied Rivalry" by @iamamythologicalcreature (Ancient Egyptian AU, collab with @monbons)
"Baz and the Prophecy" by @monbons (Ancient Egyptian AU, collab with @iamamythologicalcreature)
Thank you everyone for a truly phenomenal event!
And a huge thank you to @bazzybelle for creating this fandom event in the first place. Thank you so much for trusting me with this <3
See you again next year for COTTA 2025!
(If I missed anything in this list, please let me know! And if you submit something after this goes up, lmk and I'll edit your entry in. Cheers!)
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stellar-solar-flare · 3 months ago
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The Literary Universe Of StellarSolarFlare
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Welcome to my little library of fanfiction! Please note that my blog is a 18+ only space, and all content is intended for adults only. Minors do not interact - you are not welcome here and will be blocked.
I currently have my requests CLOSED. My side blog with only fic updates is HERE.
Reblogs, comments, thoughts, asks and everything along the lines are very welcome! I also welcome constructive criticism, emphasis on constructive. My replies to things might be delayed due to life & using the queue function (although my tagging of queue posts is inconsistent at best), so it's definitely not personal if I don't reply immediately.
LATEST WORKS:
Reboot | B. B. | M | fluff, established relationship, 500 words Cinderella Magic | S. R. | T+ | fluff, friends-to lovers, 828 words a 3-sentence fic about Steve being a good dad | S. R. | G showing Nat your Halloween costume | N. R. | T+ tempting Steve at a Halloween Party | S. R. | T+ coming home to Steve after a long day | S. R. | G
Latest Sunday WIP Update: 29th of September 2024.
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About my writing:
mostly Steve Rogers x Reader and Steve Rogers x OFC (some Bucky Barnes /Reader and Tony Stark/Reader thrown in too!)
Readers that tend to be described as smart, intelligent, slightly socially awkward types that often have STEM-related jobs in-universe.
romance, romantasy, and healthy relationships, usually combined with an action-adventure plot.
Slow Burn, Protective Steve Rogers, Idiots In Love, Mutual Pining, Forced Proximity, Pretend Relationship, Chosen Family, Fluff & Hurt/Comfort, and Fix-Its.
If you were around during the 'Everyone lives at the Tower' era, I never really left that place: Most of my work takes place in an AU where SHIELD fell right after the events of the first Avengers movie, and something called The Avengers Initiative, funded by Tony and strategically led by Steve took its place.
I am a longfic person at heart. For logistical reasons, my really long longfics live on my AO3 - the links on this list that lead to AO3 have a little (AO3) after them. I don't have plans to post all my past work onto tumblr, but my fics on AO3 are open for guests, and guests can leave comments too. I will also make a post on tumblr when I update a story that is on AO3.
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HALL OF FAME - my own favorites!
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For Centuries (AO3) | Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader | Explicit
As the only daughter of King Howard Stark of Richford, you have always known that you are expected to eventually enter into a political marriage. When King Howard attempts to save his kingdom by marrying you off to the conqueror of half the world, you accept the responsibility bestowed on you. But as you arrive at the court of Emperor Steven the Righteous to be wedded and crowned the Empress of the Centurial Empire, your husband-to-be is not what you expected.
Reader is the daughter of Howard Stark and his second wife, who is not named or described. This is a 'From Political Marriage to Love Marriage' story, featuring lots of romantasy elements, court politics, and protective, righteous Emperor Steve Rogers. The 'Touch her and I'll kill you.' vibes are strong with this one. The slowest of burns.
WIP - 18/x chapters published.
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Astronomical Odds (AO3) | Steve Rogers x Reader | Explicit
When you met Steve Rogers, the spark was definitely there, and the way you two hit off made one thing lead to another. But the consequences of that night will reach a lot further than either of you thought. Because now that you're pregnant - despite the astronomical odds - you and Steve need to navigate the situation after having known each other for exactly one night (and the two and a half weeks he spent off the grid on a mission). That wouldn't be an easy thing to do, even if he wasn't a superhero and you weren't trying to become the next Nikola Tesla (or Tony Stark).
So, people really need to stop implying that this is sign you two are meant to be, because honestly, it's just a mess. And Steve really needs to stop proposing to you.
An accidental pregnancy fic with lots of chosen family themes, and Steve and Reader figuring out each other and the upcoming baby situation. Heavy on romance, fluff, and not only Steve but the rest of the Avengers, too, being protective and caring of Reader, who is a literature nerd studying to be an aerospace engineer. Features some discussion of medical realities of pregnancy, and some supersoldier biology related issues.
WIP - 24/x chapters published.
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Brilliant Steel (AO3) | Steve Rogers x OFC, platonic Bucky & OFC | Explicit
The AI Head Strategist, Captain Steve Rogers's world implodes as a wave of inexplicable, supernatural events washes over the globe. The blame is quickly pinned on former HYDRA operatives, the recently de-programmed Sergeant James Barnes among them. With no good options left, Steve and Bucky go rogue in an attempt to uncover and neutralize the threat before it swallows the world whole. The problem: the brilliant mind that might be the key to solving all this belongs to a woman Steve once scorned, and she won’t be happy to find him standing at her doorstep.
In an effort to save the world, Steve and Bucky team up with a woman that Steve once thought would be much more than a teammate. In a universe much more vast and stranger than anyone ever thought, they’ll have to learn to rely on each other — wits and gifts and weirdness and all — to keep said world on its rails.
WIP - 5/x chapters published.
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LONGFICS
A Fairytale Of A Disaster | Steve x Doctor!Reader | Explicit
Reader has been stood up by her Valentine's Date. Or has she? Romance, fluff, meet-cute, hurt/comfort. WIP, 3/4.
Equinox (AO3)| soft dark mob boss Steve Rogers x superpowered Reader | Explicit
When you’re caught in the crossfires of a war brewing underground, Steve does what he has to. And as you get pulled deeper into his world, it may very well turn out that starlight can scorch, too. A dark romance story about a woman scorned and a man who is so much more than he seems. WIP, 10/x.
Volatile | Steve Rogers x Scientist!Avenger!Reader | Explicit
Reader has been subjected to an aphrodisiac while on a mission. Steve and the medical team attempt to find a solution. Smut with feelings, eventual fluff, eventual happy ending. Complete, 3/3.
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ONESHOTS
(Headcanons and drabbles have their separate list HERE.)
Cinderella Magic | Steve Rogers x Reader | Teen and Up Audiences
The entire thing had been like something out of a movie, starting from how Steve – to you just Steve, one of the regulars at the bookshop you ran – had barged into the store yesterday and blurted out that he desperately needed a date. Fluff, romance, friends-to-lovers. 828 words.
Reboot | Bucky Barnes x Reader | Mature
“Oh, what does the gossip magazine say?” Bucky said as he stalked closer and lifted his sunglasses, revealing his dark eyes. Fluff, romance, established relationship. 500 words.
Warmth | Steve Rogers x Chronically Ill Reader | Mature
Steve is the most caring husband and the best heating pad in the world. Even on the bad days when you don't feel easy to love. Hurt/comfort, established relationship, protective Steve Rogers. 1,771 words.
Worthy | Steve Rogers x Reader | Mature
You and Steve Rogers have been dating for a year. When a journalist is out to get you, you will have to stand together and come out stronger. Romance, angst with a happy ending, fluff & hurt/comfort, protective Steve Rogers. Reader has past trauma and unspecified mental health issues. 2,045 words.
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(This list is a work in progress and will be updated as I publish more things on tumblr!)
My taglist is open! Drop an ask / reply / reblog and I'll add you on (must be 18+ to join). Let me know if you'd like to be tagged to all fic, Steve fic, just a specific story, etc.
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genshinluvr · 1 year ago
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Sick Days
Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader
Summary: Eighteen out of twenty-five men are sick, and you (and the other seven men who aren't sick) try to take care of the sick men who have fallen ill. Just when you thought they were already needier, they're even needier when they're sick.
Note: Just a mini-fic of the majority of the Genshin men being sick. I typed this at 2-3 AM, and I don't know how I feel about this. This was an answer to someone's ask, so that's why it's a minier mini-fic. Since I typed this out in the middle of the night, don't expect it to be half decent since I'm tired and want to go to bed before I have to get up early morning đŸ„Č I don't think I'll be tagging people in this mini-fic đŸ€”I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).
Warnings: Some of the Genshin men are sick
Word Count: 2.4k
Read Part 2 of Sick Days [HERE].
Almost everyone at the estate is sick except for Zhongli, Venti, Xiao, Scaramouche, Albedo, Baizhu, and Dainsleif. Oh, and yourself, of course. Which is a shocker because you’re usually the one that gets sick often out of everyone in the abode, but now it’s the other way around. Baizhu and Albedo are the ones that do the check-ups and prescribe medication for the men who are sick, while you and the others are the ones that try to nurse them back to health.
Childe rings his bell from his bedroom upstairs. “Snookums!” Childe hollers from the top of his lungs before having a coughing fit.
You peek your head into Childe’s room. “Yes, what do you need? And don’t shout! You’re going to make it worse for yourself, and you’re going to wake the others up,” you say, walking into his room.
Baizhu pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “I was able to get him to take his medication, but he refuses to go to sleep because he wants to cuddle with you,” says Baizhu, turning to look at you with a look of defeat.
You look at Childe, propping your hands on your hips. “Is that true, Childe?” You ask.
Childe nods glumly and holds his arms out, making grabby motions with his hands. You chuckle and sigh. You nearly forgot that Childe is even clingier when he’s sick, which is unfortunate because it makes it harder for you to care for the other sick men. 
Venti knocks on the door, pops his head into the room, and sighs, giving you a sympathetic smile. “[Y/N], the others are calling for you.”
“Which others are we talking about? The ones that aren’t sick, or the ones that are sick?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at the anemo archon. 
Venti purses his lips and clears his throat. “What would you do if I said both?” asks Venti, tapping his fingers on the doorframe while leaning against it.
Childe’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head, kneeling on his bed as if he’s prepared to get off it to convince you to stay. “No! Don’t leave me! You know I can’t go to sleep without you cuddling me!” Childe whines, giving you puppy dog eyes before coughing and sneezing into his elbows.
Baizhu gives Childe a fake smile before handing the eleventh Harbinger a face mask while keeping a safe distance between the two of them. “Please wear this face mask while you’re sick. You don’t want to get other people sick now, do you?” Baizhu says.
Childe lets out a huff, grabs the face mask from Baizhu’s hands, and puts it over his mouth and nose. You walk over to Childe and gently push him to make him lie on his back. Even though Childe has a mask over his nose and mouth, you know he’s pouting. You tuck Childe into bed and kiss his forehead.
“Get some rest, alright? I have to check up on the others,” you say, stroking Childe’s soft hair.
Childe huffs and nods before turning over to his side and closing his eyes. You, Baizhu, and Venti walk out of Childe’s room.
The minute you and the two men step out of Childe’s bedroom, you realize how much chaos the estate actually has. You hear occasional coughing, sniffling, and people calling your name for your attention from each person's room.
You walk to the room beside Childe’s room and knock on the door before peeking in. Diluc stares at you with bleary eyes with tissues stuck up his nose. You give the redhead a sympathetic smile before entering his room.
Diluc sniffles. “Don’t come any closer. I don’t want you to get sick,” Diluc says.
You can’t help but giggle at Diluc’s nasally voice and continue to walk to his bed. Diluc frowns at you before taking the tissues out from his nose and tossing them into the trash bin beside his bed. Diluc reaches for another tissue and stares at you while you sit across from him on his bed.
You give his leg a squeeze. “How are you feeling right now? You took your medication, right?” You ask, looking at Diluc worriedly.
Diluc nods while wiping his nose. “I did take my medication. I’m waiting for it to kick in. I hate being sick. It prevents me from getting my job done at the winery.” Diluc frowns, sniffling again.
“I understand your frustration, Diluc. But please take this time to rest. You won’t recover from your illness if you don’t get plenty of rest,” you say.
Diluc frowns and lets his hands fall onto his lap. You get up from Diluc’s bed and walk closer to him. Diluc looks at you with wide eyes while you lean down to kiss the top of his head. Diluc mumbles something under his breath before lying on his bed and closing his eyes. You press the back of your hand on Diluc’s forehead, nearly sighing in relief. Diluc’s temperature is going down, thankfully. 
You leave Diluc’s bedroom to let him rest, closing the door behind you. Venti and Baizhu went somewhere you’re not sure— probably to check up on the other men in the estate. Zhongli steps out from one of the men’s rooms, carrying a tray of food in his hands. Zhongli sighs and gives you a look, shaking his head.
“It’s strange how they got ill simultaneously,” Zhongli comments, gesturing for you to follow him as he starts making his way toward the staircase.
“Oh, uh, I’m about to check up on the others! I’ll join you downstairs after I finish checking up on all of them. Is that okay?” You ask, getting ready to enter the room Zhongli had left not long ago.
Zhongli smiles. “You’re not obligated to join me, [Y/N]. I heard everyone has been asking for you,” he chuckles, shaking his head.
You give Zhongli a weak smile, nodding. “Yeah, they are, and I’m going to check on each of them to make sure they’re okay. Childe wanted to cuddle with me, but I can’t join him this time since, you know, he’s sick, and he could get me sick as well,” you reply. 
Zhongli nods before bidding you goodbye and walking down the stairs. You walk into the room to see Dainsleif pinning Itto down while Xiao tries to shove a pill down Itto’s mouth. You stand at the door, unsure of what to do other than watch.
You clear your throat. “What in the world are you guys doing?” You ask, grabbing the three men’s attention.
“[Y/N]! Help me! They won’t let me go!” Itto screams, thrashing under Dainsleif’s grasp. “Is this how you treat a sick person!?” Itto exclaims, glaring at Dainsleif and Xiao.
Dainsleif rolls his eyes and tightens his grip on Itto’s wrists. “You need to take your medication. I don’t care if you’re an Oni, Itto. You need to take your medication because it’s prescribed to you by Doctor Baizhu,” Dainsleif replies.
Xiao lightly smacks Itto’s head. “This wouldn’t have happened if you complied and took your medication without a fight,” Xiao says, glaring at Itto.
You walk over to the three men and pull Xiao and Dainsleif away from Itto. Itto gives you a grateful look before sitting up and fixing his hair and clothes with a huff. You hold your hand out to Xiao. Xiao gives you a look before placing the pill in your hand.
“Good luck trying to get him to take his medication,” Xiao mutters.
You sit on the edge of the bed and hand Itto the pills. Itto stares at the large pills with horror, then back at you. Judging by the look on his face, Itto was asking if you’re insane for wanting him to swallow a pill that’s almost the size of his entire pinky.
You purse your lips. “If you take them, you’ll feel better after! Plus, it’s not fun being sick, is it?” You ask.
Itto frowns and shakes his head.
“If you don’t want to take medicine that’s this big, I recommend taking these right now, and you should be feeling a little bit better after a few hours.” You suggest.
Dainsleif hands Itto a cup of water. “Unless you want us to pin you down and force you to take your medicine, I recommend you take your medication like an adult.”
Itto glares at Dainsleif and tosses the pills into his mouth before downing the water. You give Itto a pat on the back before kissing the side of his head. Itto smiles and places the cup on the nightstand before he pulls you onto his bed.
“Itto, I can’t stay long! I have to check up on the others, too, you know?” You mutter, trying to squirm out from his grasp.
Itto ignores your comment and continues to snuggle into you with a wide smile. You look at Xiao and Dainsleif. The two men pinch the bridge of their noses, mentally cursing at the Oni. 
You sigh in defeat and pat Itto’s arms. “Alright, I guess I’ll be staying here for a little bit, alright?” You ask, glancing up at Itto.
Itto smiles and nods wordlessly. You look at Xiao and Dainsleif, gesturing for them to give you and Itto some privacy. You continue to let Itto hug you to his chest, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You close your eyes and slowly drift off to sleep without even realizing it. Time passes by, and you wake up to the sound of whispering around you.
“Dammit, Itto! You decide to hoard [Y/N] for yourself and not let them check up on the rest of us?” You hear Aether whisper.
Heizou sighs. “Poor thing must be exhausted. Everyone wants their attention, and for them to check up on us must’ve worn them out,” says Heizou.
You crack your eyes open to see the men sitting around you. You blink at them and look at Itto, who’s staring down at you while combing his fingers through your hair. You rub your eyes and sit, blinking at everyone.
Kazuha chuckles, coughing into his elbows. “It looks like [Y/N] slept really well,” Kazuha smiles at you.
“Sorry for not being able to check up on all of you. As you can see, I fell asleep. Unintentionally, of course,” you say sheepishly. 
Ayato sighs and walks over to the bed, sitting beside you. “There’s no need to apologize. You tried your best to care for those who are sick and didn’t get to rest because people were pulling you left and right.”
“We decided to make it easier for you by coming here after we heard Dainsleif and Xiao say something about Itto hoarding you for himself,” Thoma says, putting on his face mask and sitting at the edge of the bed across from you and Itto.
You blink at the men before you and at Itto. Itto seems content with the situation. Itto presses his back against the wooden headboard of his bed and reaches for the cup of water. You plop over on your side and close your eyes. Dear Archons, dealing with sick men with the help of seven men was not easy. Zhongli, Xiao, Venti, Dainsleif, Albedo, Scaramouche, and Baizhu did everything to help the men that are sick, and you’re eternally grateful for their assistance. Despite their trying to help, it didn’t stop the others from wanting you and only you. You crack your eyes open and pat the bed.
“You guys might as well join us in bed then. You all wanted to be near me or be in the same room as me,” You say.
Al Haitham stares at you. “We’ll get you sick, you know that, right?” asks Al Haitham.
“And? I’ve gotten sick many times since my arrival at Teyvat. It’s nothing new!” You reply, brushing Al Haitham’s worry to the side.
Kaveh stares at you and tosses a pillow at you. “That’s the point! You’ve fallen ill so many times in Teyvat already. We don’t want you to get sick again because of us,” Kaveh replies, letting out a huff of breath before having a short coughing fit.
“Remember how a lot of you would tell me to rest up?” You ask, closing your eyes.
“Yes, we tell you that because you do need to rest. You push yourself to the point where you get sick,” Tighnari replies, clearing his throat. 
You sputter and rub your face. “Yeah, well, you all need to rest! And since you’re all in here already, you might as well make yourselves home for now until we’re all rest up!” You say, patting the bed.
“But you’ll get sick,” Cyno states, frowning at you.
“Hand me a face mask, then! You know that one part of a wedding vow? Something about in sickness and in health?” You ask, reaching out toward Baizhu while he hands you a mask to wear.
Kaeya snorts, sitting on Itto’s bed and lying across from you. “You really are stubborn.”
“Wait, are we all going to just lay on Itto’s bed? I don’t think we’ll fit,” Gorou says, counting the number of people in Itto’s room.
You wave Gorou’s worries away. “We’ll probably Tetris it, don’t worry! If that doesn’t work, then we’ll figure it out somehow,” you say, scooting over to make room for the others. 
Scaramouche asks, “What if I don’t want to be near any of these losers and only with you?” Scaramouche smacks Childe upside of his head as he walks by the eleventh Harbinger.
You stare at Scaramouche. “Then we can do that later! Just you and me!” You reply.
“And chaos begins,” Albedo chuckles, shaking his head as everyone starts pushing and shoving each other, trying to get to you. 
Surprisingly, no one has fallen over yet. You made sure everyone wore a mask because you didn’t want them to get each other even more sick than they already were. You’re in the middle of the bed while people are scrambling to lay beside you or at least close enough to you. At this point, it’s a cuddle pile, and you’re all for it because imagine being sandwiched between many men.
In the end, you had to give up your spot because they didn’t want to crush you. So, they have you lay on top of everyone because they want you to feel comfortable and not claustrophobic. That and because they want to be able to pass you around so the other person can get their turn cuddling you. Just when you thought you were needy when you’re sick, you’re wrong because these men are needier than you are and constantly crave your attention. Not that you’re complaining, of course. They’re just clingier when they’re sick, and it’s something you’re going to have to get used to if you ever get married to them.
Note: Not tagging people for this mini-fic since this was supposed to be a response to someone's ask. Plus, it's also nearing 4 AM, and tagging people can take a while. This is just a mini-fic/response to an ask. It's short, it's not the best. But this is what I imagined would go down if the reader were to take care of the sick Genshin men. Some of them aren't sick because they're immortal, so yeah! To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!
Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^
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