#fanfic by maven

[twochildreninamoteldemo]

and right outside the door, nobody knows

M; dean/john; 880 words

Dean knows his father's taste in whiskey from only sight, not taste, but that changes one winter night when he's twelve.

a note: nothing overtly sexual happens, this is not a john-takes-advantage-of-a-very-underage-dean kind of fic. it's kind of a messiness that serves as pre-slash and something that blossoms down the road. i may continue it, and add a few more parts of the same verse, if anyone's interested!

[nyrasbloodyclover]

when the lights go down (maven calore x reader)

cw: nightmares, hurt/comfort

a/n: this is my first ever fanfiction i think, originally posted on ao3

I got up, gasping for air, not being able to see clearly. The room spun in front of my eyes making me sick to the stomach. I desperatly needed to puke.

I was almost used to it by now. Waking up in sweat with fear that just behing my closed bedroom doors death is waiting. That's what years of terror did to a person. War was cruel and had no mercy towards anyone.

I brought shaky hands to my wet face- from sweat but now burning tears slid down my cheeks as i let out quiet sobs. It was so stupid but understandable at the same time. In front of my eyes—it was so real i couldn't breathe sometimes— i was losing everyone i loved all over again. Everyone i cared about on the verge of death. I saw him, barely breathing, silver blood sliding down his neck—dying—and i just stood there, not being able to do anything.

I had never even admitted that to him- my feelings or the nightmares because i knew his mother took all of it from him. He wouldn't understand so it was all pointless.

The memory, not real, and it will never be real, i swore to myself, made my chest hurt, i started sobbing even harder this time.

And it was desperation or need for comfort that made me get out of that haunted place i called my bedroom and walk out the door.

The marble floors were cold underneath my bare feet as i walked slowly still with tears in my eyes.

The palace was huge and anyone could get lost in it, even me, but there was one path i always knew- towards him. Maven's chambers stood out to the rest of the palace, at least to me. Anytime i was with him i felt as if no one could hurt me. Like i was safe from the rest of the world. In his head we probably weren't that close, but i could comfort myself by pretending.

I was still convinced this was one big mistake, but now that i found myself in front of big doors that led to his private rooms, i couldn't go back. Maybe he will toss me out, laugh at how weak i am, after all we lived through the same experience.

I didn't care. All i wanted is to at least see his face or hear his voice, no matter what he was saying to me. So i knocked once and secretly prayed that he wouldn't hear me. If he doesn't open i will have to suffer alone for the rest of the night, afraid to close my eyes. It was familiar to me that my sleep was cursed by nightmares. It would be easier than to appear weak in his eyes.

But no one heard my prayers as he opened the large woden doors. I tried to wipe my tears as much as i could.

His eyes were still half closed, soft white shirt crinkled from sleep and hair rustled. He didn't seem very happy that someone woke him up. He looked so unfamiliar to me in that moment because i was so used to his organized-put together self. If i hadn't been so miserable i would even laugh.

At the sight of me it was like someone had sobered him up.

"What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep." My voice was weak. It was the longest explanation i could give him.

After studying m for a moment Maven crooked his head, "Are you okay?" He spoke gently, like i was some wounded animal that needed his saving. And in some way, i really was.The look on his face made me know that he was aware of my cursed dreams

That was it, i thought, my breaking point. Something really cracked in my chest as i practically threw myself at him.

He was caught off guard he froze for a moment. I didn't care if he's going to mock me for the rest of my excistance for this, i needed it, needed him.

Few seconds passed and he relaxed a bit wrapping his slender but strong arms around me. Then i started sobbing into his chest.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He whispered into my hair, "What happened?"

He closed the door behind me and guided me to the edge of his bed. I sat down and he kneeled beside me, looking up with his blue eyes, searching for the answer.

"I watched you die," my voice cracked mid-sentance making it sound even more painful. And when he realized what i said his eyes grew wide. I wasn't sure what was going through his head now, but i still continued, "I watched you die, and i wasn't able to do anything—"

Now was my time to feel caught off guard as he took me into his arms. I never saw Maven hug another human being, but he should do it more often because now, he held me so i don't break.

"I am alive," his hand brushed the back of my head, "I am alive because of you, don't ever doubt that." His words made me sob harder into his chest.

His scent consumed me as i closed my eyes against him.

Maven never broke the hug and we sat there, in the dark of his room, until i parted us and looked at his beautiful, beautiful face.  

"I hate nightmares," i said after minutes of silence. "Sometimes, i wish your mother took them from me too."

He frowned at that, still holding my hands, "She took my nightmares, yes, but with them she robbed me of my ability to love, to care."

His fingers traced invisible patterns on the back of my hand. He wasn't looking at me. "Sometimes, you make me forget that." And i felt as if my heart was beating again.

I didn't know what to do after that. Did i get the comfort i wanted? I wasn't sure, but his words did make me feel better, so i got up and started walking towards the door. I hope our relationship wouldn't change much after tonight. I knew i would feel stupid and even more miserable in the morning but i guess it was worth it.

Then suddenly i felt the burning hand around my wrist, "Why are you leaving?"

Did he want me to stay? "Well, i tho—"

"You thought wrong. Come here," he said as he pulled me closer to him, and under the red covers. 

I layed my head on the burner prince's chest that rose and fell with each of his breaths. The proof that he was alive. Alive and well and beside me.

After a while, when the lights completely went down, i wasn't sure if i was asleep yet but i heard him whisper, "I will take your nightmares if it means you'll sleep peacefully."

[imperatrice21]

You know, I think it would be pretty interesting if in War Storm they actually did find a Newblood to cure Maven but when he gets cured and back to normal he doesn't remember a single thing he did while under Elara's control because it wasn't him at all and he's like super confused or something when they tell him how long its been and something something idk

[lucy-the-cat]

In my insomnia and internet chatting I have vaguely maybe jotted down the start of a fic using two Sabrina Carpenter songs that might never be finished but here have some snippets:

If there was one thing Maven was counting on, getting a call from Mare Barrow wasn’t one of them.  His mom had threatened to block her number (she had access to his contacts, as all good mothers did), and have her arrested for good measure.  He’d insisted there’d be no reason to.

Maven picked up the phone, scowling.  “Who are you, and why have you hijacked my ex’s phone?”

and

“If I can’t have the one I love, I might as well have you.”

[daffodilsinspring]

Can someone write a fanfic of the red queen characters reacting to/reading King's Curse??

Like omg red queen characters reading the books will be soo good💞💞

[blaithnne]

AU where season 2 Kaisa meets the fandom's interpretation of her pre-season 2

[imjulia-andilikecats]

So I've been working on Limbo Chapter Two and it's a 6K WORD CHAPTER 😭😭😭. Here is a teaser.

Might post it tomorrow. 😬

[ironwoman359]

A Thief's Gamble Masterpost

Summary: Brynjolf is certain that the only way the Thieves Guild will return to its glory days is by bringing in new, talented members. Unfortunately, Mercer doesn't agree, and it's not like Brynjolf's latest attempts at recruiting have gone well. But when he meets a stranger in the marketplace one morning, he's willing to take the risk and bring her on board....only time will tell if his gamble pays off.

Content: Brynjolf POV, Thieves Guild quest spoilers, game typical violence

Ships: Brynjolf x Dragonborn OC (slowburn)

Read on AO3 Here!

Chapters:

No Risk, No Reward

All Eyes on Us

Honeyed Words, Bitter Deeds

Bedlam and Burglary

The Renegade from Cyrodiil.

Unhindered Insights

A Dampened Pursuit

Caught Red Handed

Every Cloud...

...Has a Silver Lining

Misdirection

A Ghost From the Past

(coming soon)

[maveys-baby]

I have a fanfic where there was a girl working for Anabel and every time Cal and Maven would visit as kids they would go and hang out with her (and vis versa) and Cal considers her as a sister- once they see each other again they're still really close and her and Mare become great friends as well

Not to mention Gisas crush... ;)

I need opinions please and thank you

I NEED THIS NOW PLS OMG

Why have I never thought of wlw!Gisa before!?!? Amazing idea, there's a lot of potential in a character like this and the story could go in a bunch of different directions! I would love to read if you post it :)

[skiiyoomin]

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© skiiyoomin - all rights reserved. please do not copy or steal my work, and always ask me for permission before reposting, translating, or using my work.

[rainstorms-moonrivers]

Thomaven One-shot // Writing Prompt: “I was singing in the shower and you heard me and you asked me to sing louder”

[twochildreninamoteldemo]

hey joey, happy dadfucker friday :)

i'm asking everyone whose opinions i love, so in your world, how and when does deanjohn start?

HAPPY DFF (saturday version) LANA!!! okay i'm a month and a day late to this ask basically, but i finally have the time (company time, heh) to answer this. here's a drabble.

Whatever this turns into begins with a drink. Dean knows his father's taste in whiskey from only sight, not taste, but that changes one winter night when he's twelve. John's always touchier when he's had a few too many, Dean's used to that. And he's used to the tears. He's used to the roughness of his father's beard when John asks to hold him, the redness it'll leave behind on his own chin. He's used to the Marys and the Deans, the way they blur into mumbles. He's used to the way John starts out angry before he dissolves into a slump in whatever armchair--or bed, if there isn't one--the next motel offers. He's used to the ensuing apologies, though Dean's never sure if they're meant for him.

Tonight Sam's at a friend's house for a sleepover, something rarely permitted, but there's something far away about their father this week, something distracted. Dean's seen this before, though it doesn't come around too often. Maybe once every couple of years. It always starts kicks up into a frenzy by the end. Last time John got like this, Sam was five and Dean was nine and John nearly broke his youngest's arm when Sam got too grabby. He was five, and John was drunk, and Dean was crying because he didn't know how to stop it.

And tonight, while Sam probably watches Rugrats while getting a run down on all the episodes he's never watched from a snot-nosed classmate on a grimy suburban basement couch, Dean's feeling the painful grip of his father's hand around his wrist, not angry but forceful, pleading, a slight shake or vibration of his father's fingers. "Mary," he sobs, and Dean knows he's really gone this time.

"Come on, Dad, just lie down--"

But John won't, jerking hard when Dean tries to pry the bottle from his free hand, golden liquid sloshing inside. Dean decides that's a broken cause. One step before another. "Let's sit down," he says.

John's nodding, and his lips speaking incomprehensible words, silent and quick. His lips press together over and over. Mary, Dean reads. It's always the same.

He lets John believe he's making his own decisions, as if his son isn't urging him along to sit on the mattress, the two of them tucked together where the springs force them into a lopsided dip. Dean's nearly in John's lap, and under his weight, his father sighs, wrapping an arm around his waist. John's head is on his shoulder, and Dean finds himself running a hand across his head, through his hair. It's matted and greasy, but Dean finds he doesn't mind that so much. It's his dad's.

Once John is calm, nearly crooning into his son's collarbone, Dean slips the whiskey out of his father's loosened grip, setting it softly on the bedside table next to the yellow lamp and the telephone and the complementary notepad bearing the motel's name at the top of each slip. He lets his arms wrap around John's back, feeling his father's hot breath on his chest, that slowing breathing, almost wet in its heaviness.

Gently, he pushes John until his dad is lying down, but before he can climb off to haul his legs onto the bed, John's pulling him down on top of him, and that's when Dean feels it--something strangely poking at his thigh. He both understands and doesn't--it's something that happens to his own body, but mainly when sneaking a peek at John's skin mags, looking at glossy spreads of beautiful blondes with perfect tits. He's not sure what to make of it now, so he swallows, and lies there awkwardly, afraid to move a muscle. "D-dad?" he asks, shakily.

"Shh-shh--Mary, shh," is the slur of sound that tumbles from John's mouth, big hands wrapping around Dean's jaw, holding his face up. Dean's frozen when his father's lips meet his, scratchy at first, then slimy when he feels a tongue prod at him. It tastes sour, a bit firey. His mouth. The whiskey.

"Dad, stop," Dean murmurs, and the word makes John pause, eyes opening a bit more. Dean's not sure if he really meant it. His father's hands are so big and warm, his face cold, and the roughness of them right, somehow.

"Son?" he whispers, pulling back, licking his lips. "Oh, god, Dean--"

"S'okay," Dean mumbles in reply, shaking. He's heard the girls giggle about their first kisses in the hallways at school between the slam of lockers and the scuff of sneakers on the tile. That's what it was, he realizes. My first kiss. He feels like he should be feeling sick right now, but for some reason, he doesn't. There's something warm in his belly. His heart is pounding, and he wants to curl up beside Sam and forget this ever happened, but his belly is warm.

When he crawls off the bed again, John's head has fallen back onto the mattress and his eyes are closed. The threat of a snore leaves his nose. Dean finds the cap for the whiskey and tucks it away in their duffle bags, then goes over to the radiator to adjust the heat. It's cold in here, he thinks. The snow begins to fall outside.

[nyrasbloodyclover]

masterlist

☆smut

• one shot

°multiple parts

HOTD

daemon targaryen

• dragons, blood, fire & sex ☆

• speak now

— TOM GLYNN CARNEY

aegon targaryen

• no light

• hands (un)tied

• who would ever want to be king?

• going out hc ☆

• who else decodes you?

• a hot welcome ☆

malachy granger

• so high school ☆

• guys my age ☆

aemond targaryen

° the great war

• parallel lines

AHS

kai anderson

• hypnotic ☆

tate langdon

° summer nights

° summer games

• insomnia ☆

•ghost stories☆

kit walker

• i tried to be the bravest soldier

james patrick march

• ultraviolence☆

BOOKS

maven calore

• when the lights go down

will herondale

•watchful eyes

X-MEN

peter maximoff

• leave it to me

CLASSICS

alexei kirillovich vronsky

• a real fucking legacy ☆

OTHER

billy hargrove

• angels roll their eyes

[imperatrice21]

Does anyone know any fanfics where Cal chooses Mare in the first book instead of taking her and Maven to the king?

[lucy-the-cat]

I don't know when it takes place I picked Regency at random but I don't know maybe a vaguely Jane Austin AU if I knew how to do it

Edit: I was at least a century off BUT MY POINT STILL STANDS

[snow-acotar]

Maven

A project I did for diary entries. This is a diary entry I wrote from Maven's perspective. It's his thoughts after the events of the first book, his questionable ideologies, and a lot of existential dread

"Dear Diary, 

Mare is nothing to me. As I stood in the fray of panicking civilians and soldiers I saw her beg desperately at my brother's feet for his loyalty. She trusted him and she trusted me when I told her he would choose her. I saw the rage that took over him when he realized what she had done, what we had done; it was just as I had predicted he shook his head at the sorry sight of her and called for the guards. I took up the act and ran towards them shouting and pretending that I was angry at him and scared for her when in reality I felt nothing. Nothing at all just a cycle of thoughts. Memories flashed through my mind as I saw me and Cal as children playing pretend with swords, watching young Cal be lectured at dinner on his prosperous future, training to be a king at 7 years old, and seeing a girl in uniform fall from a high house box into the arena, watching the same girl waltz around the castle with the mask of a princess, late nights hiding in the shadows of the castle planning our rebellion, seeing the tapes of her and Cal dancing, watching her slowly fall for us both It was almost sad to watch, almost.  

My entire life I've been invisible. From the moment I was born to the night on the bridge, I’ve been in Cal's shadow. Always, he was invited to more lunches, his face pictured on the screens, and his name would be whispered among the people. I was nothing to Norta, just a title and an empty facade they never cared to know more about. I watched in the throne room as Mare was told how she was to be married to me, and one would think I would have the spotlight then right? Of course not, she didn’t even glance my way, her eyes hardly ever left Cal. That is why she never got a chance. As she exited the throne room my mother pulled me aside and told me of her plan to make me king. How could I say no?

Some might call me heartless after reading this, but I must disagree. If Mare had been in my position, if she had grown up in my family she would have done it too. She's just as selfish as me, just too cowardly to admit it. How she betrayed that guard who had trusted her and most likely would have died to protect her, and she didn’t even think twice. She used him with no remorse and would do it again, as long as it benefits her and her opinion. The first time the targeted killing was suggested she agreed on the spot, not stopping to think about her choices, not considering what that would do to those families. If you're telling me this is what a kind genuine person looks like, then you would be correct. 

It’s human nature to be selfish. Every day you are selfish, from walking past people in less fortunate situations than yours on the streets without even glancing at them; to killing a few nobles to make a statement. We’re all the same, I'm just the only one with enough sense of self to realize it. 

You're probably still asking “but how could you watch her face fall when you turned your back, how could you watch her walk hand in hand with your brother towards their death?" It’s not all that complicated really. If everyone else is allowed to walk around sinning and getting away with it why can’t I? I’ve seen plenty of privileged people get away with murder (literally) and they appear to go on and lead happy powerful lives. If they were that bad, you would think they would have to pay for it but from what I can see most don't. So please tell me why me of all people, me who has lived my entire life to be the backup just to be the second choice, the overlooked and discarded son. Tell me why I have to live as a side character when I could play the main role or even better, the villain.  

I think there was a time when I did love Mare, it wasn’t all a lie. 

In my unbiased and humble opinion, she's very difficult to get along with. She’s self-centered and obsessed with her own miserable life. How is that my problem? While I am more concerned about how people interact with each other and study people's character and try to look more outside the box, she has a blind vision. She is the type to agree with one opinion and stick to that with her life; never looking at the other side of the coin or acknowledging others' situations. It’s just me, me, me; but somehow I'm the villain.

My brother on the other hand is neither of us. He’s loyal beyond compare, he was raised to be loyal to his family and his blood and he struggles to see past that. I don’t necessarily think that's a bad thing but I could certainly never see Cal and Mare having a remotely stable relationship, and I’m not just saying that because I’m bitter. There's a difference between a teenage fling and a healthy long-lasting relationship. Cal would be much better off staying out on the battlefield or adventuring than inside a castle with a wife. And I think he knows it, Mare is just too obtrusive to give him space. I don’t think she realizes it and that makes it even worse.

I have a feeling you're about to call me a narcissist or egoistic but hear me out; I am and have always been the best in line for the king. Sure I may have some loyalty issues and most would think of me as a sociopath, but I'm more fleshed out and reasonable than any of you could ever dream to be. While I am open to all sides and opinions, I do not accept arguments that do not include everyone. If the fairytale doesn't end with happily ever after (for everyone) then I think it’s probably not a very good fairytale now is it? 

How does this not make me a reasonable king? Was it because I betrayed you, Mare? Is it because I sent you to die? Is it because I let Cal kill our father? Because I think all of those are justified. The only way I could become King was to betray you, which, in my opinion, was the right choice for Norta's wellbeing. I let you in that arena because frankly, I don’t see how you serve this world anything. You dying would be no loss for anyone besides you’re family, and I do feel sympathy for them but everyone must cope with loss. It's a part of life. Mare has reasons to die those nobles did not. I do not believe the Red Rebellion will benefit this country. I will deal with the unjust situation of the reds, but I will do so reasonably. 

I have a meeting coming up with several heads of the high houses. We will discuss how to move forward from this dark time and continue with our normal lives. I will have to inform them of my revised plans but do not worry I've modified my words to where I hope they’ll at least give it a chance.

  If someone is reading this right now which I sincerely hope there isn't, remember that life is never fair. We are all just retainers of the universe."