#fanfic writing is not easy folks

[mercale]

Hiii!! I read your thinkfast fictions and I wanted to tell you that I love them!!! I wanted to ask if you are going to update them. Thank you

Hello Anon.

Short answer: yes.

Long answer? Let's have a really real discussion here for a moment. I have a feeling you're asking this because you follow my Ao3 account and I posted something for another fandom last night with a note that I'm going to post it daily for the next week to completion. If this is not what triggered this ask, feel free to disregard everything I say next. But if there's even a chance that is what motivated this comment, I beg you to read on. And for people that don't follow me for Thinkfast writing, it's probably a good read for insight into fan writers also.

While I am not going into details in any way shape or form, things have been very hard for me these last three months. Hard in ways that are my personal business but that have undeniably affected my writing. The thing I posted for the other fandom is literally the first time I have been able to put words down in a creative format for three months.

If you knew me IRL, you'd know how shattering that is to me. Writing is not just my hobby. It's my vocation and aspiration. I have not been able to write a single word for my novel in three months either, which is a project nearer and dearer to me than anything.

I was terrified of putting that piece of writing up last night. Because I was afraid someone was going to show up and ask why I was working on that and not something else. The answer is simply because things have been very hard. And being able to write something, anything was just shy of a miracle. It gave me a small boost in confidence and hope for myself.

A question like this, therefore, hurts. Loving my work is this great thing. It makes me feel good. It can be a confidence boost. But I know I am far from the only writer who gets a comment that basically summarizes to 'update soon plz' and is left a bit more broken by it. No matter how softly it is phrased.

I will return to my Thinkfast fic. Do not worry about that. All of them. I intend to finish out my fills that were requested. I will be finishing the Omegaverse one. I will finish The Space Between. But the first task I have to do is get myself to a position where I can write at all. And the first step in that is putting down literally anything that I am capable of, no matter the source of the inspiration or where it leads me or what ends up on the back burner.

Again, if you didn't ask this because of the other piece being posted, I'm sorry to have accused you of this behavior. But given how terrified I was posting the first piece of writing I've done in almost a quarter of a year and how proud of it I was to have written anything, I'm very sensitive at the moment. This is not meant as me as a person biting the head off of someone, though. It's meant as a 'sometimes the way things are said, while intended in good faith, are damaging. please let me explain to you why.'

In general my advice to ALL CONSUMERS of ALL FAN CONTENT is to find a way to scrub the word 'update' from your lexicon unless it's specifically following a statement like 'omg i loved this update and here is why'.

You'll do a lot of good by your fellow fans in this way.

[starry-bi-sky]

No.

No, no, no, no, NO!

He's shaking. His heart is burning in his chest, pounding like a jackhammer against his ribs, and there's a trembling, aching rage building beneath his tongue and pressing against his teeth.

In his hands, his fingers tense and wrists locked, the article reads in big, black font: JOKER LOCKED IN ARKHAM ASYLUM AGAIN!

Danny shouldn't feel so angry about this, this is a good thing. Gotham doesn't have to deal with him for another few months at the least. He should feel relieved, a little more at peace.

He is not.

He cannot swallow the fury thudding behind his eyes, the burning white heat searing a deeper hole in his chest. A searing green filling static in his ears in the way only the rage of the restless dead can have.

How is he going to kill him now?

Arkham may be the only asylum in America made entirely of tissue paper, but it's still an asylum. There are cameras, guards, other patients resting inside. Danny can think of a million different ways to sneak in and kill Joker, but someone will hear his screaming.

It'd have to be rushed.

He doesn't want it to be rushed.

It's a cruel thought. Cruel and cold and merciless, but Danny doesn't feel an ounce of shame, not an ounce of guilt, for it. He wants to be alone with the Joker when he kills him, that's all he wants. In Arkham, you are never alone.

He forces his anger to bubble back down into his chest, stuffing it between his heartstrings and his ribs like a blanket you're trying to bunch up into a corner. It sizzles and burbles. The static begins to fade out into a high-pitched ringing; it sounds like distant screaming.

Danny is still trembling, but he can think a little clearer now.

He can wait.

He can wait. He can wait. He can wait. He canwait. Hecanwait. Hecanwait.

He can wait.

He's waited five years for this. He can wait one more week. One more month. One more year. However long it takes for the Joker to break back out, Danny can wait.

And when the Joker does, inevitably, break out.

Danny uncrinkles his fingers around the edges of the newspaper, loosens his limbs just enough so he can pay for it.

He'll be waiting.

The dead, after all, have all the time in the world.

[brichan132]

Hey, hi, hello! Brichan132 here with your daily reminder to click off when you don’t like something. Whether it’s fanfics, books, or movies and tv shows, just walk away from it. Some of you might think it’s common sense to not engage with stuff you don’t like, sadly this isnt the case sometimes. For those whom this might benefit from this reminder, please do sit down, to those who don’t need it, please take the exit on the right.

Let me clear my throat, Ahem…

CLICK OFF OF SHIT YOU DON’T LIKE!!!

That is all, thank you.

[bigalockwood]

well we’ve officially almost reached 10k and there’s still one scene left to be written. I’ll do my final read through tomorrow so I’ll probably cut some words but. this wasn’t planned to be as long. do ppl actually like 10k chapters or is that a myth?

I fear chapter 2 of come closer has turned into a bit of a monster length wise. Oops

[ao3-shenanigans]

Ao3shenanigans I request some advice if you can spare a moment. I am a fanfic writer and my m/f , m/m, and gender neutral fits do very well. But I'm a lesbian and I find myself so much happier writing f/f content. However only a small small amount of people support my f/f content. Many people comment on my f/f fics requesting an m/m couple to cameo rather thsn anything supportive. Even my reading and kudos count is higher on works that took me an hour than on the big f/f project i spent MONTHS on. I'm so discouraged and starting to feel invisible. Any advice? I've started no longer publishing the fics I want to write and just keeping them to myself because I feel so invisible.

Oh hey Anon, that sounds really disheartening, I’m so sorry that’s been happening

I would hate for you to stop a hobby that sounds like it’s brought you a lot of joy, but I definitely understand wanting folks to engage with your work — especially one you’ve put so much love and effort into.

In regard to the commenters asking for m/m ship cameos on your fic, I’d suggest saying something in your author’s note politely asking them to stop. While there’s a chance they don’t mean any ill will or have light hearted intentions, it’s still upsetting to you and as the author, you totally are in the right to request they don’t make comments of that nature.

I’ve noticed it’s an unfortunate trend where f/f ships get somewhat regularly overlooked and bypassed for m/m ships, there’s probably a whole easy to be written about that somewhere

While it’s ultimately up to you in what you decide to do, I hope that you give it one more shot; your writing is a gift to the community and even if fewer people are reading it, for those who are, I guarantee it means something to them

Best of luck <3

[what-even-is-thiss]

Part of the reason I stopped writing fanfic was because my audience expected sanders sides from me and I was sort of petering out on that series already. There was more to it than that though. I could’ve moved on to other fandoms. Maybe gotten an ao3 account and just been someone that writes for a lot of fandoms. But there’s other things about it I don’t really find fulfilling anymore.

Fanfiction is by its nature really limiting. You’ve gotta stick to certain characters, certain archetypes, certain specific tropes if you want to get back a lot of positive feedback. Or feedback in general.

And constructive criticism doesn’t really exist in fandom space either. People are either really positive about your work or huge dicks to the point of easy dismissal. And that’s partially because of all the unspoken rules. Only say nice things or don’t say anything at all. Which I don’t necessarily disagree with because fanfic is free brain candy made for you by a person who’s just passionate about what they’re doing. It’s nearly cruel to try and offer unsolicited criticism in that kind of situation.

But people just want certain things from fanfiction. Fantasy fulfillment, love, very specific types of catharsis, 14 year old goth kid levels of dark and edgy. And there was a point in my life I was fine with that but I can’t anymore.

My ideas got too different. People stopped reading. I stopped wanting to finish things. My prose style is often abrupt and short and poetic. I enjoy being experimental. Experimentation isn’t generally appreciated in fanfiction. Not as much as it is in published fiction in my opinion.

Yes published fiction has its own issues. Its readers are also creatures of habit. But not quite as much as fanfiction readers. And at the end of the day, I realized I want to be a writer. Like a professional writer. Even if that just ends up being a side thing for me. And fanfiction doesn’t really get you there most of the time. For some select few it has, but those folks are often in the romance or smut marketplace. I am not.

Fanfiction has its place. It had its place in my past. I got a lot of practice. I met some good people. But I don’t really read or write it anymore.

I guess what I’m saying is that if fanfiction isn’t fulfilling for you anymore, you’re under no obligation to keep writing it or reading it. I’ve got a perfectly happy online life these days hopping from one fandom to another on a whim without any fanfiction at all. I feel a lot better getting feedback on my writing by talking with other writers and my friends and family about it. I no longer feel like I’m just sending something out into the world to be met with silence. I’m no longer embarrassed to show people I know in my personal life my writing because they haven’t seen the source material the work is based on. My work is just my work, unconnected to the baggage of a source material. I get more ideas from reading, I’m reading a larger variety of things, I’m meeting people who like reading and writing published fiction.

Fanfiction can be great, it can be for some people the kind of writing they want to do forever. But there’s a whole world outside of it. And depending on who you are, it might be holding you back. Just something worth thinking about.

[kaleidoscopecth]

In the Night I Dream of You (Two)

MDNI

paring: poly!lashton x reader

summary: a game of truth or dare in a hot tub with your two long time crushes definitely is bound to go somewhere

warnings: lashtonnnn threesome!! oral (m&f receiving), mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it folks, this is a fanfic), cum play, cursing. lmk if i missed anything

word count: 6.2k

a/n: lord this took me ALL DAY, it was surprisingly hard to write LMAO. anyways this is the first threesome i’ve ever written, i tried my best i’m sorry. anyways thank you to my sweet friend for this request and im sorry to my other friend for the lack of mermen… i did try to keep the water theme LMAOOO. anyways, i edited this myself so if you catch any mistakes lmk. as always, SEND IN YOUR REQUESTS!!!

Copyright © 2024 kaleidoscopecth. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“We kept up the lie the whole livestream,” Michael snickered, taking an exaggerated swig from his beer. “Told everyone Ash was sick, but really, the idiot was just getting laid.”

“A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” Ashton murmured with a casual shrug, his eyes flickering briefly toward you.

Luke sat next to him, seemingly lost in his own world, not paying much attention to the conversation. He was absently toying with the lip ring that adorned the corner of his perfectly plump mouth, drawing your gaze and making it impossible to look away.

“When it comes to sex, we’ve all got our fair share of stories,” Calum chimed in, rubbing his eye with his knuckle. “Like when Ash and Luke both hooked up with that Hailey girl.”

Luke’s gaze snapped to Calum, his attention fully drawn back into the conversation as a faint crimson blush crept up his cheeks.

“Wait a minute,” you piped up, furrowing your brows as you looked between Ashton and Luke, zeroing in on Luke’s bashful expression and Ashton’s sly smirk. “At the same time?”

“No,” Luke groaned, covering his face with one hand and leaning back dramatically. “Definitely not at the same time.”

“Missed opportunity,” Ashton quipped, his grin widening as he nudged Luke with his elbow. “Gotta cross that off the bucket list at some point.”

Luke let out an exasperated laugh, dragging his hand down his face. “Not a chance, mate.”

“You say that now,” Ashton teased, winking in your direction. “But I’ve got a feeling it wouldn’t take much convincing.”

You had to admit, the two of them made an undeniably captivating sight. You’d known the boys for a few years, first crossing paths at a party thrown by a mutual friend. Back then, they were just getting started—touring with One Direction and living the kind of chaotic, carefree life only rising rockstars could pull off.

From the moment your eyes landed on Ashton and Luke, that familiar heat rushed to your face. Over the years, they’d only grown more mesmerizing.

Your gaze drifted to Ashton first. His sandy hair was darkened by the water, strands clinging to his forehead, and those ever-present dimples creased his cheeks when he smiled. Rugged and effortlessly handsome, his hazel eyes had a mischievous glint that seemed to see right through you. His hands bore the evidence of countless hours spent drumming, knuckles rough and calloused, a stark contrast to the elegance of his long neck and easy confidence.

And then there was Luke—an entirely different kind of beauty. His piercing blue eyes seemed to put the sky to shame, and the sharp lines of his jaw and the subtle curve of his perfectly slanted nose were enough to make anyone falter. Tall and slightly reserved, Luke carried himself with an air of quiet mystery, the kind that drew people in without him even trying. Yet there was a softness to him, a hesitance that Ashton seemed to balance effortlessly.

“Y/N,” Michael’s voice snapped you out of your daze as he waved a hand in front of your face, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “You good, or…?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you mumbled, forcing yourself to focus on Michael, even as your stomach tightened at the sight of Ashton’s sly grin. He’d definitely noticed the way you zoned out looking at him and Luke.

You cleared your throat, trying to shake it off, but it didn’t help when Ashton leaned over and whispered something into Luke’s ear, making the latter chuckle softly. Their easy banter was magnetic, almost as if they were entirely unaware of just how effortlessly they commanded the room—or, in this case, your full attention.

“I was just going to ask how you were feeling—you’ve been quiet,” Michael said, his expression curious as he studied you.

“So has Luke,” you shot back without hesitation, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

Luke, already watching you, let his gaze linger on the curve of your neck, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m actually pretty entertained right now,” he replied with a shrug, his tone casual. “I’ve participated more than you have.”

Calum let out a small yawn, clearly unimpressed by the bubbling banter between you and Luke. “Well, whatever,” he muttered, standing up from his spot beside Michael. He stretched lazily as he stepped toward the stairs leading out of the hot tub. “I’m spent. Think I’ll call it a night.”

Michael pouted, looking at Calum as though the betrayal was personal. “You’re tired? Really?” he asked, standing up to follow him.

Calum turned back with an exaggerated frown, crossing his arms dramatically. “If you stop looking at me like I killed your grandma, we can head upstairs and play some Call of Duty.”

Ashton chuckled, running a hand through his wet hair. “Don’t wanna pass up on that opportunity, Mike.”

Michael looked torn as he glanced between Calum, Ashton, Luke, and you. “Are you guys coming, or not?” he asked, clearly hoping for backup.

“I’m not much for video games, Michael,” you teased, your tone light as you brought the neck of your beer bottle to your lips, taking a deliberately slow sip.

Ashton’s eyes flicked to you immediately, his focus unshaken as his gaze lingered. A sly grin formed on his face, and you noticed the way his fingers absentmindedly drummed against the edge of the hot tub, his telltale sign of interest.

“I think I’ll stay, too,” Ashton said with a grin, tossing you a wink.

Nothing had ever happened between you and Ashton—just harmless flirting. It was mostly because the opportunity never seemed to arise, though part of you held back because of your budding crush on Luke.

Having the hots for two members of the same band felt like too much to unpack. You didn’t even want to think about what could happen if you pursued both.

The idea seemed almost too rapacious, but when Luke glanced between you and Ashton and the corner of his lip quirked up and his eyebrow rose slightly in intrigue, you wondered if maybe it could be possible.

“Me too,” Luke chimed in with a cheerful grin, and Michael rolled his eyes, muttering something before climbing out of the hot tub and following behind Calum. The two quickly disappeared into the night, their figures growing smaller as their conversation faded into the distance.

The night felt much quieter now, the air heavier as reality settled in. You were alone in the hot tub with Luke and Ashton—completely alone, the faint buzz from a couple of beers still lingering.

Oh Lord.

“Okay, so I think we’ve officially hit that point of the night where we can play stupid high school games,” Ashton said with a mischievous grin, his tone laced with challenge. “What do you say?”

“What, like seven minutes in heaven?” you asked, causing Luke to let out a soft snort. The sound sent a jolt of satisfaction through you, and you watched as Luke shook his head in amusement.

“We can do that too,” Ashton replied, completely unbothered by your joke. “But I was thinking something a little less… you know, down bad.”

“Truth or dare?” Luke’s brow furrowed as he played with the ripples created by a nearby jet in the tub. “Could be fun, I guess.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I could definitely be convinced to play truth or dare.”

Ashton’s grin widened, his confidence radiating like the warmth of the hot tub water. He leaned forward, his eyes darting between you and Luke, lingering on you a fraction longer than necessary. “Who goes first?”

“Well, Ash,” Luke replied, leaning back and propping his arms up on the edge of the tub. “It was your idea, so you should go first.”

Ashton frowned playfully. “Is this you stalling for time to come up with something to ask?”

Luke shot him a smug grin, winking. “Exactly.”

Shaking his head with a soft chuckle, Ashton ran a hand through his damp hair, the motion flexing his bicep just enough to catch your attention. You quickly pulled your knees to your chest, hoping to steady the rush of nerves coursing through you.

“Alright, Luke,” Ashton said, his grin turning devilish. “Truth or dare?”

Luke paused, his fingers brushing over his stubble-covered jaw as he considered the question. His lips were slightly parted, his mind clearly elsewhere, and you could barely focus on anything but him.

“Truth,” Luke said finally, his voice calm but laced with uncertainty.

“Boring,” Ashton pouted dramatically but pressed on. “Alright, have you ever lied to anyone in this room?”

Luke froze, his expression tightening as the question sank in. His cheeks flushed, and his gaze flickered briefly to you.

“You lied to me?” you asked, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise as you tried to piece together what he could mean.

“Not about anything serious,” Luke mumbled, clearly embarrassed. “You remember that time I liked that really old picture on your Instagram? I told you Michael had taken my phone and did it to mess with me, but… the truth is, I was just stalking.”

Your jaw dropped, and a stunned laugh escaped you. “Luke!”

“Yeah,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, his blush deepening. “Not my finest moment.”

“Well, talk about loser central,” Ashton teased, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “Can’t blame you, man—she’s hot.”

The casual compliment caught you completely off guard, and you stammered, struggling to regain your composure. Thankfully, neither of them seemed to notice your flustered reaction.

“Is it my turn?” Luke asked, breaking the moment.

Ashton nodded, leaning back lazily against the edge of the tub. Luke let out a sigh, clearly thinking hard about what to say next. Finally, his shiny blue eyes locked on yours. “Y/N,” he said, his voice steady, “truth or dare?”

Without hesitation, you shot back, “Dare.”

Ashton smirked, draining the last of his beer before stepping out of the tub and perching on the edge. “Atta girl.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head as you waited for Luke’s challenge. He didn’t keep you waiting long.

“Tell us someone’s secret,” he said, his lips curling into a mischievous smile, “without saying who they are.”

You let yourself think for a moment, wracking your brain for a good enough secret that wouldn’t give anyone’s identity away. But then your eyes landed on Luke as he titled his head, looking at you expectantly and your mouth went dry.

You could always say your own secret, because neither of them would ever figure out who you were talking about. “Alright,” you cleared your throat, straightening up. “I know someone that has been aching to be in a man sandwich between you two.”

Luke’s eyes widened comically as he leaned forward, his tone dripping with curiosity. “Who?”

“Nuh-uh,” you grinned, shaking your head. “That was not the dare.”

Pouring, Luke’s shoulders sagged. “Fine, whatever, you win.”

Ashton watched the exchange with a wide smile, leaning back on his hands as he studied the scene before him. Your gaze trailed over the smooth, tan skin of his chest and abdomen, lingering on the faint trail of hair leading beneath his swimming shorts.

“Ash,” you murmured, your voice soft, almost breathy. “Truth or dare?”

Ashton’s eyes flicked to Luke for a brief second before returning to yours. “Dare.”

A small smile curved your lips as you considered your next move. Finally, you leaned in just slightly closer. “Alright,” you said, grinning. “Let me draw something on you with a permanent marker.”

Ashton furrowed his brows, tilting his head in disbelief. “Where the hell am I supposed to pull a permanent marker from?”

“My purse,” you replied, shrugging with a sheepish smile.

Luke’s confused laugh broke the moment. “Why the fuck do you have a permanent marker in your purse?”

"You never know what the night will bring," you teased, flashing him a playful look. Slowly, you stepped out of the tub, feeling both sets of eyes on you as you grabbed your purse. Rifling through it, you pulled out a Sharpie and turned back, catching the unmistakable way Ashton and Luke's gazes lingered on your body. A wave of heat flushed down your spine.

Settling down beside Ashton, you gave him a nudge. "Lean back on your hands like before," you instructed, uncapping the marker. Ashton obeyed, a hint of curiosity in his expression.

Grabbing a towel from a nearby pool chair, you wiped at his skin to dry the area. Your fingers brushed lightly against the sensitive skin of his hip, and you didn't miss the sharp inhale he took at the contact.

You bit back a smile, pushing his shorts down just enough to reveal the sharp definition of his v-line. Carefully, you scrawled your name across it with the marker, pulling back to admire your work. Ashton's pupils were blown wide, his chest rising and falling a bit faster than before. Luke, on the other hand, stared at the two of you with an almost fascinated awe.

Clearing your throat, you placed the marker on the floor and slid back into the water. “Who's next?"

Luke's voice cut through the tension as he leaned toward Ashton with a sly grin. "I've got one," he said. "Truth or dare?"

Ashton frowned slightly, his brow furrowed in thought before he shrugged. "Truth."

Luke's eyes darted briefly to you, the corners of his lips curling into a wicked smirk “What's your real opinion on a threesome?"

Ashton raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised at the sudden turn of events in the conversation. He let out a small laugh, shaking his head in disbelief before meeting Luke’s gaze. “Really? That’s where we’re going? Threesome?”

Luke shrugged unabashedly, leaning back against the tubs edge with a smirk. At some point, he had moved closer to you— his body brushing yours as his arm rested behind your head. Ashton’s eyes flickered between the two of you, and he licked his lips.

“Alright,” He said slowly, running a hand through his dampened hair as he considered the words of his response. “I guess it could be fun. Right group, right vibe… I could be convinced.”

Your breath caught as Ashton’s eyes met yours, the glint of arousal almost unmistakable in the dim light. You briefly wondered if he knew that you had shared your secret, your most intense fantasy.

"Y/N, what about you?" Luke asked, his smirk deepening as he leaned in closer. You could see every detail of his face-the curve of his nose, the subtle quirk of his brow-and it made your mouth go dry.

When you glanced over at Ashton, his eyes were flicking between you and Luke, his chest rising and falling unevenly, as if he were bracing for whatever came next.

With a sudden surge of confidence, you tilted forward, your nose brushing against Luke's. His breath fanned across your face, still tinged with the scent of beer. "It's my turn, pretty boy. Wait for yours."

Luke's eyes dipped to your lips, and you caught the flicker of his tongue as he licked his bottom lip, drawing in a sharp breath. "That's no fun."

"Truth or dare, Lu," you murmured, your voice light but laced with challenge.

"Dare," he replied, his voice low, almost a growl.

You smirked, pulling away from him completely, letting the tension linger as you turned to Ashton. His darkened eyes were fixed on you, and the intensity in his gaze sent a thrill down your spine.

"I dare you to make out with Ashton," you said, your tone playful yet daring.

Everyone went quiet, and for a moment you wondered if perhaps you’d gone too far. But then, Ashton’s mouth quirked into a challenging smirk, and Luke slowly glanced at his best friend.

“Fine,” Luke murmured, pushing up from his sitting position and slowly walking over to where Ashton sat by the edge.

You watched as he lowered himself back into the tub, looking between you and Luke. “You’re not gonna back down?” He asked.

Luke shrugged, his smirk only deepening. “A dare is a dare. Plus, the lady requested it.”

You watched as they closed the gap between them, Ashton’s jaw slightly tightened as he titled his head and met Luke’s lips with his own.

The kiss was slow at first, and you supposed it was only natural since neither of them made a habit out of kissing other men. Still, after a few seconds, Ashton’s hand came up to grip the back of Luke’s neck, pulling him closer.

You watched in stunned silence, your breath caught in your throat as the kiss quickly deepened. Waves of desire washed over you, and you clenched your thighs in an effort to find some semblance of relief.

Luke responded to Ashton with equal fervor, his hands coming to curl into his damp hair— and you caught the hiss he let out as Ashton gently bit his lip ring.

It was over all too soon though, because Ashton and Luke both pulled away. They were slightly out of breath, looking at each other in surprise. Luke was the first to sit back down, his cheeks having a faint flush to them.

“Is that you wanted, Y/N?” He asked teasingly, his expression daring.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to remain composed as you met Luke’s desire ridden stare. Everything was about to change, and you couldn’t be more ready for it. “Oh absolutely,” you grinned, keeping your voice smooth despite the heat that flooded your cheeks.

“Alright then,” Ashton stretched, closing in on Luke and you. “It’s your turn. Truth or dare.”

Your mind was running wild with possibilities of what Ashton could ask of you with either choice. Still recovering from what you just had witnessed, though, you found that you didn’t want to just answer a simple question. “Dare.”

Ashton exchanged a quick glance with Luke, leaning closer and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I dare you to kiss Luke exactly like you just made him kiss me.”

Your mouth went dry, and every nerve in your body seemed to hum with anticipation as you turned to face Luke. His hand slid to the back of your neck, his touch firm yet gentle. A small, cocky smile tugged at his lips as he leaned in, his breath brushing against your skin. "I don't bite," he murmured, his lips grazing yours teasingly. "Unless that's what makes you moan."

Before you could respond, his lips crashed against yours with intensity. Your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders, seeking stability as his mouth worked eagerly against yours. The cool sensation of his lip ring against your skin sent shivers down your spine, and without thinking, you tugged at his hair, earning a low growl from him.

Luke's tongue grazed your lower lip before slipping past, exploring your mouth with fervor. His hands slid from your neck to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. When he bit down gently on your bottom lip, a soft groan escaped you, and his smirk deepened against your mouth.

"Ashton," Luke murmured between heated kisses, his voice dripping with challenge. "Truth or dare."

"Dare," Ashton replied, his voice steady but laced with curiosity.

Luke's lips paused for a moment as he grinned wickedly. "I dare you to kiss what you think her most sensitive spot is."

The words sent a wave of heat through you, leaving your head spinning. Luke's hands steadied you as Ashton moved closer, his gaze burning into yours. When he was within reach, Luke pulled back just enough to slip behind you, his lips trailing warm kisses along the side of your neck.

Ashton's hand ghosted over the knot of your bathing suit top, his eyes dark and questioning. "Can I?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, breathless, and with one swift pull, the knot came undone, leaving you bare before them.

Ashton leaned down, his lips brushing your skin as he kissed along your neck, his teeth grazing your collarbone before trailing lower. The cool air made your skin prickle, but it was quickly replaced by warmth as his mouth hovered over your chest.

He blew gently against your hardened nipple before capturing it in his mouth, his tongue flicking against the sensitive skin. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you threw your head back against Luke's chest, a moan spilling from your lips.

One of your hands tangled in Ashton's hair as his tongue circled your nipple with expert precision, his teeth grazing it gently. Luke's free hand joined in, kneading and teasing your chest, causing a wave of pleasure to ripple through you. A desperate whimper escaped your lips, trembling as you felt Luke's growing hardness pressed against your back. "Truth or dare," you murmured, your voice trembling. "Both of you."

"Dare," they both responded in unison, their eyes locked on you as they continued their ministrations, seeking more of your moans.

"I dare you both to fuck me."

The words lingered in the air, igniting a spark of heat between the three of you as they both nodded in agreement, their gazes heavy with desire.

"Let's get out of the tub then," Luke murmured, his voice low as he nipped at your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine.

The three of you clambered out of the hot tub, steam rising off your skin as neither of their hands left your body. They guided you to one of the pool chairs, their touches gentle but deliberate, the tension thick between you.

Ashton was the first to move, laying you back on the chair with a smirk. His mouth immediately returned to your chest, his lips and teeth exploring with an eagerness that made your breath hitch. Luke, meanwhile, hovered over you, his hands sliding up your thighs as his gaze locked on yours, full of intent.

You watched through half-lidded eyes as Luke kissed down your stomach, his hands firmly gripping your thighs. Ashton momentarily pulled away, his heated gaze flickering to Luke. Without a word, Luke hooked his fingers into the side of your bathing suit bottom, pulling it aside with precision.

"Let's see just how fun this can get," Ashton murmured, his voice thick with amusement and desire. His lips captured yours in a heated kiss, his hands framing your face as Luke's mouth descended lower, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

The anticipation coiled tightly within you, every touch, every breath sending waves of electricity through your body.

Luke's lips trailed up the inside of your thighs, nipping at the sensitive skin and drawing soft moans from you into Ashton's mouth. Anticipation built with every graze of his teeth, every brush of his lips, until his hot breath fanned against your now-exposed clit, sending a shiver down your spine.

When Luke's tongue dragged a long stripe up your heat, your back arched instinctively, pleasure flooding your senses. Your mind was hazy, barely able to register Ashton grabbing your arm and guiding it between your bodies, pressing his cock—still constrained by his swimsuit—into your palm.

Luke's tongue swirled expertly over your clit, his movements drawing sharp gasps from you. Your free hand found its way into his hair, tugging lightly whenever he sucked just right. Meanwhile, Ashton had slipped out of his shorts, leaving his length exposed. You let your fingers trace teasingly along his shaft, earning a shaky groan from him.

“C'mon,” Ashton murmured against your lips, his voice low and breathless. “I dare you to touch me.”

At that exact moment, Luke slid two fingers into your entrance, curling them perfectly to hit every sensitive spot while his tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit.

"Fuck, okay-" you panted, finally wrapping your hand around Ashton's cock and stroking him slowly.

He let out a sharp hiss against your mouth, and you felt the deep vibration of Luke's hum against you as he sucked harder, sending waves of pleasure through your trembling body. “You’re so pretty,” you heard him mutter between licks. “Taste so fucking good— just as good as you look.”

Your hand increased the speed at which it worked in Ashton, your own body growing heavy with desire. “Look at you,” Ashton purred into your mouth. “All needy for us. You thought we didn’t know? You didn’t think we noticed the way you were practically gagging for our cocks? You’re such a whore.”

His lips pressed against your neck, sucking into the skin and biting— no doubt leaving marks. “Your hand feels so good,” he groaned breathily, and Luke’s mouth didn’t falter on you. “You’re such a good girl for us.”

You nodded eagerly, flicking your thumb over Ashton’s tip and relishing the groan that escaped from deep within his throat. “You gonna let us destroy that pretty little pussy?” He asked.

“Please,” you moaned, feeling the warmth in your belly begin to reach a boiling point. You began grinding against Luke’s tongue, and he moaned into you, his fingers increasing their speed.

Luke was relentless, the rhythm of his fingers and tongue so perfectly in sync that your thighs began to tremble uncontrollably. Pleasure coursed through you in waves, pulling soft, breathless cries of both their names from your lips.

Your hand continued its steady pace along Ashton's cock, the smooth glide drawing low groans from him. Unable to resist, he started thrusting into your hand, his movements needy and unrestrained, a clear reflection of just how badly he wanted more.

“What do you think, Luke?” Ashton asked, his hands coming up to play with your pert nipples and your chest. “Should we let her come?”

Luke pulled his mouth away to answer, and you whined at the loss of contact. However, his fingers didn’t stop moving. “I wanna see how much we can make her come.”

Ashton smirked, leaning forward— his lips brushing against yours in the barest ghost of a kiss. “I think I’d like to see that,” he murmured.

When Luke’s tongue returned to work on you, it became quickly evident that you wouldn’t be able to hold off for much longer. “I’m so close,” you gasped, the hand that was tangled in Luke’s hair tightening slightly.

“Come for Luke, pretty girl,” Ashton urged in your ear, his voice strained.

Ashton’s words sent her over the edge, waves of prickling pleasure crashing down on you as you squeezed your eyes shut, your legs clamping on Luke’s head involuntarily as you rode out your high.

Luke's licks softened into gentle kisses before he finally pulled away, a satisfied smirk playing on his swollen, glistening lips.

The mix of your release and his spit left a sheen that only made his confidence more intoxicating. "I wanna fuck you," Luke rasped, his voice rough as he tugged at the knot holding his swim trunks snugly against his hips. His eyes bore into yours, the heat in them unmistakable.

Still dazed from the aftermath of your orgasm, you nodded, your breath hitching as you turned your attention to Ashton.

"And you're gonna let me fuck your mouth while Luke fucks you, isn't that right, babygirl?" Ashton murmured, his tone a low rasp that sent another shiver down your spine. His fingers brushed your chin, tilting your face toward him.

With shaky hands, you sat up, adjusting yourself until you were on all fours, your body positioned perfectly before Ashton. Your lips parted slightly in anticipation as you waited for what would happen next.

Ashton’s hand cupped your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Can’t wait to see what that pretty mouth of yours looks all full,” he murmured, slipping his thumb past your lips beckoning your mouth to open wider.

“That’s it Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with arousal as his other hand gripped his cock, giving it a few strokes before brushing the tip against your lips and pushing in.

The salty taste of him on your tongue made you moan around him, opening your jaw as wide as it could go to take in as much of him as possible. Slowly, you began to work on his tip with your tongue, tracing the underside of it and drawing out a long groan from him.

Behind you, Luke was gripping your waist, his hands wandering. You could feel his fingers teasing your entrance and clit, gathering the moisture on them. “You look so fucking good like this,” he hissed, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock.

You hummed around Ashton, the vibrations pulling a deep groan from his chest as his grip on your hair tightened. His head tipped back briefly before he looked down at you again, his pupils blown wide with desire.

Behind you, Luke slowly pushed in, the head of his cock dipping deeper until he was fully sheathed inside you. The stretch was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and pain that left your body trembling.

Despite the sensation, your rhythm on Ashton didn't falter. You hollowed your cheeks, drawing him in deeper as he bit his bottom lip, a low growl escaping him. “That's it, baby,” he murmured, his voice laced with praise. “You're taking us both so well.”

“Fuck,” Luke groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he began to move. His thrusts started slow, deliberate, before picking up pace. “You feel so good, so damn tight around me.”

The combination of their movements left you breathless, your body a slave to the pleasure building with each stroke. Ashton's cock slid wetly between your lips, his hips rocking in time with Luke's thrusts.

The air was thick with the sound of skin meeting skin, your muffled moans, and the groans falling freely from both men. Ashton's hand tangled further in your hair, guiding your pace as he watched you through hooded eyes. Luke's grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts becoming more erratic as his breathing grew heavier.

“You're perfect like this,” Luke rasped, his voice rough. “Taking us like you were made for it.”

His thrusts intensified, each of them hitting deeper and deeper inside you, making you moan around Ashton.

Ashton’s hands tightened on your hair, moving your head on his length and you hallowed your cheeks, swirling your tongue. Tears sprang into your eyes, and you could feel Luke’s fingers digging into your hips as he continued his relentless pace.

Shakily, you raised a hand and wrapped it around Ashton’s cock, pulling back to catch your breath as you moved your hand up and down. “Just like that,” he groaned. “Look at you— taking Luke so well, you’re such a pretty slut.”

His hips bucked slightly, meeting the motions of your hand as you let out a small whimper after a particularly harsh thrust from Luke. His hand had snaked between your legs, beginning to rub at your clit in tight circles as he continued to fuck into you.

“God, baby, you’re squeezing me so tight,” Luke’s voice was strained, letting you know he was fighting back his own release. “Are you close?”

You shut your eyes tight, taking Ashton back into your mouth and whimpering. You could feel the tears beginning to stream down your face, the sensation of Luke filling you and the moans falling from Ashton’s mouth were almost too much.

Your body tensed as the pressure built, Luke’s fingers never letting up from your clit and he made stars spring in your vision with every thrust. He was relentless, sending jolts of ecstasy through your body with each snap of his hips. You opened your eyes, meeting Ashton’s.

“Come for us,” Ashton growled. “Show us how good we can make you feel.”

“Please baby,” Luke whimpered from behind you. “Come with me.”

The combination of Luke's relentless thrusts, the pressure of his fingers on your clit, and Ashton's lewd words proved too much. The tension in your core snapped violently, sending you spiraling into another intense orgasm. You cried out around Ashton's cock, pulling back slightly as your body shook uncontrollably and clenched tightly around Luke.

Luke groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. Ashton cupped your face, guiding you into a needy kiss. His tongue swept over your bottom lip before diving into your mouth, tasting you deeply. You struggled to kiss him back, overwhelmed by the pleasure still coursing through your body.

With a guttural moan, Luke finally reached his peak, spilling inside you as he murmured your name like a prayer. His hips stilled, and his forehead dropped against your back, his breathing ragged. Ashton pulled away from your kiss, his thumb brushing softly over your swollen bottom lip as he studied your dazed expression with a smirk.

“You're so perfect,” Ashton murmured, his voice low and full of desire. He stood, his commanding presence making your pulse quicken. “Now, clean Luke up while I fuck you,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

Without missing a beat, Ashton and Luke switched places. Luke leaned back against the edge of the hot tub, his chest still rising and falling from the intensity, while Ashton positioned himself behind you. You turned toward Luke, your hand brushing over his thighs as your lips ghosted over his sensitive tip.

Behind you, Ashton ran his hands along your waist, gripping you firmly as he aligned himself with your entrance. “You ready for me, baby” he asked, his breath warm against your ear.

You nodded, your lips wrapping around Luke's still-sensitive length as Ashton began to push into you, filling you completely. A shudder rippled through your body at the overwhelming sensation of being taken by both men, their combined dominance driving you to new heights.

Ashton didn't hold back, his thrusts hard and relentless as your cries filled the night air. You barely had time to register the shift before Luke's hand gently tilted your face back toward him. “Mouth on me, baby,” he murmured, brushing away a strand of hair that clung to your damp skin.

“God, your ass looks so good like this,” Ashton groaned, his voice dripping with lust. His hands gripped your hips firmly, ensuring you met each of his thrusts. “You're such a little cockwhore, aren't you? One wasn't enough; you needed both of us to fill you up. Dirty girl.”

Each of Ashton's movements sent waves of overstimulated pleasure through your body, leaving you trembling and breathless. The sharp edge of sensitivity from your earlier orgasms only heightened the intensity. “Fuck, yeah,” you gasped, your voice breaking. “Need to be fucked by both of you.”

Your mouth returned to Luke, your tongue tracing the length of him as you tasted the mixture of yourself and his release. His head fell back briefly, a satisfied groan slipping from his lips.

“I'm so close,” Ashton growled, his grip tightening, his nails digging into your skin as his rhythm became erratic. Luke leaned down, pulling his cock from your lips and guiding your chin upward to meet his gaze.

“Look at me,” Luke commanded softly, his voice a low rumble. He crouched before you, his lips brushing yours before trailing down your jaw. His teeth grazed your neck, and he sucked on the sensitive skin just below your ear, making you shiver. “You're such a good girl,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “Took me so well, and now you're taking Ashton like the perfect little thing you are. Making us feel so damn good, pretty girl.”

Ashton groaned behind you, his pace becoming erratic before he buried himself deep, releasing with a guttural moan that sent a shiver through your already trembling body.

Luke's hands cradled your face with surprising tenderness, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he murmured soft praises. He kissed you deeply, his lips coaxing yours despite your shaky, breathless state.

Ashton, still catching his breath, began trailing warm kisses down your spine, his lips pressing softly against the heated skin. You gasped when he dipped lower, his tongue gently lapping at the evidence of their shared release, cleaning you with slow, deliberate strokes.

The sensation sent jolts of overstimulation coursing through your body, and you moaned weakly, your muscles quivering under his touch. By the time Ashton pulled away, you collapsed onto the lawn chair, your chest rising and falling heavily as the last waves of pleasure ebbed away.

"Truth or dare, Y/N?" Luke asked, his tone light as he helped you sit up. Ashton's hands worked carefully to redo the knots of your bathing suit top, his touch gentle as he tried to keep you decent.

Ashton pressed a sweet kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering for a moment. “Truth,” you answered, your voice soft as you slumped back against Ashton's chest. Your legs found their way onto Luke's lap, and his hands instinctively began to massage your calves.

A small smile tugged at his lips, and your eyes flickered to the black lip ring gleaming under the light. “So,” Luke began, his voice teasing, “did we live up to that man-sandwich fantasy you mentioned?”

Despite your exhaustion, a wave of heat surged through you at the memory of what had just happened. You let out a quiet laugh, your cheeks warming as you smirked. “Only if we can do it again.”

The two of them didn’t hesitate when answering. “Deal.”

Ashton laughed. “But let’s get out of here before Mike or Calum realize what they missed out on.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

thank you for reading pookies!! i hope this was a fun read, this really was out of my comfort zone but it was really exciting to write!

as always, send me your requests <33

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Hi, could i request Alastor x reader where one of them does something nice/gives something to the other not realizing that in their culture it's equivalent of courting/proposing? And since the other is in love with them, they don't mention the connotations and it takes someone else to point it out for them to realize? :)

Going to be honest, I wasn't sure how to write this one, since I'm white and to my knowledge Alastor's a Creole man from 1930s, so I wasn't sure what from either of those cultures could be mistaken for a proposal. After doing some research I'm going to tweak this ask a bit, simply because I am not entirely comfortable representing other cultures that I am not a part of and only have a few hours worth of google research knowledge of. I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted. If you or anyone has more specific traditions to use as examples, I'd be happy to try and expand on the idea.

(Or reinterpret this as like, flower language, gift giving symbolism by pagan standards, or crow language. Which not gonna liez my ADHD ass really wants to write a crow sinner giving them weird random stuff they find that they think the others would like.)

Anyway, I'm going to do things you'd do for each other that make you both wanna get married. Hope that's ok!

Alastor

It's not so much a single thing you do, but more like there is a single moment where he realizes he wants to marry you. And to be clear, his idea of marriage is going to be based off of what he grew up with and his own personal level of comfort with romance and intimacy (remember folks, aromantics have a spectrum as well and can get married and have perfectly happy, functional, healthy relationships and marriages).

It's probably not even a big grand gesture or anything. It's more likely something domestic and really sweet. Like it's post the finale fight with Adam, and he already knows he's getting attached because he let you help him get patched up. He lets you in his room, his space, and being touched by you is as easy and comfortable as it is with Rosie and Niffty, who have pretty much a free pass whenever.

Yet you're still always so respectful of his boundaries, of giving him subtle ways to avoid or redirect your touch if he's not feeling up to it. You never push, chosing to take what levels of affection he's willing to express but always letting him know you love him, and this last small thing is the thing that makes it click in his brain.

You bring him his coat, newly patched, cleaned of any trace of blood. The stitching is a little sloppy, crooked, and the fabric isn't lined up as well as it used to be, but you tried. He can see the effort and knows you spent hours holed up in your room after patching him up.

"I know it's not perfect, but it'll hold until you feel well enough to visit your tailor again." You say timidly, as if you expected rejection or critique. And while criticism wouldn't be unwarranted, he's just too emotional to say anything. His smile is gentle, a little wobbly, and he reaches out and brushes the coat aside to grab hold of you and pull you into a hug.

You're just so sweet and considerate, you understand him. He's not going to change, he doesn't want redemption, he thrives off the bloodshed and chaos of hell, but at the same time he's still just a man. And he wants you to be by his side for eternity, if he you want that too. He's never thought of marriage before but now...now he can't stop. He wants to have that with you. Domestic life, something to come home to.

He won't say anything right away, he wants his proposal to be perfect. He's going to have Rosie help him plan this every step of the way, but regardless, one day, you will be his partner.

As for what your moment with Alastor is, I think it entirely depends on what you value most in a partner. However, a general consensus I've seen in most of the fanfics and tumblr posts is the idea of Alastor showing us a softer side.

Not just showing us that he's more than a serial killer and cannibal with his own sense of morality. More than just feeling comfortable enough to let us initiate touch, hut genuinely letting us see past the Radio Demon persona.

Maybe it's by cooking for us and talking about how he learned the recipe from his Mama, which leads into him slowly opening up about her, how much he adored her. What she meant to him.

Maybe it's him and you at the bar in the hotel or in his room, sipping drinks, his jacket off, sleeves rolles up. Letting himself be casual and in a compromised state around you. Maybe he'll even take your hand and spin you across the dance floor like he used to with Mimzy. He doesn't even care if you're not that good, he can teach you, practice makes perfect, he just has fun with you.

Maybe it's a moment where he let's you touch him. Or seeks you out for help because he knows you won't say anything. Or if he humors you and flirts back when you tease him. Or let's say he has a tail and he doesn't snap your head off for accidentally touching it as you go by. Or he agrees to watch a movie with you or listen to a podcast despite how he feels about technology.

Maybe it's just a quiet night, sitting next to each other, each reading a book, his radio playing softly for background noise, and you look up to him to ask a question or say something and he's already watching you, a small, adoring smile on his face.

Take your pick of which one is the moment where your heart stops, your breath catches, and you realize that you wanna marry this man.

And then your delulu ass wakes up, lol.

Decide for yourself if you'd go through with a proposal or if you just accept how things are.

[angrybathbomb]

“Are you two a couple?”

  MODERN AU

Touchstarved LI x gn! Reader

SUMMARY: On a coffee date with each ts LIs, both of you are stopped by what one can assume a street interviewer/youtuber who seems to be quite eager on talking to couples. What do our lovely LIs have to say?

WARNINGS:  None

NOTE:   This is my first time writing a fanfic, please go easy on me if I made some mistakes as I am still learning. Constructive criticism and tips to improve are very much appreciated. Thank you for reading!

INSPO: I saw a YouTube channel (@meetcutenyc) and felt like writing this for our lovely ts LIs!

WORD COUNT: <1.7K

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-PROLOGUE-

Strolling leisurely down the bustling streets for a cozy, romantic coffee date, fingers entwined, greedily savouring each other’s warmth. Each step the two of you took, resonated with a rhythm on the footpath that stretched ahead in the bustling cityscape. Amidst the bustling chaos of the city, snippets of conversations floating around and the distant hum of traffic, a comfortable silence stretched between the two of you with occasional exchange of shy yet mischievous glances and tender smiles.

However, the romantic stroll came to an abrupt halt when a young guy holding a camera, most likely recording, blocked the path ahead of you two.

“Sorry to interrupt, but are you two a couple?”, he inquired with a friendly smile. His eyes, subtly reflecting guilt, silently apologized for the sudden intrusion.

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AIS

LEANDER

VERE

MHIN

KURAS

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KURAS

Kuras is momentarily taken aback, but he quickly conceals his surprise behind an aloof facade. His grip on your hand tightens instinctively.

“Excuse me?” His tone though courteous and polished remains devoid of warmth.

 “I was asking if you two were a –”

Kuras interrupts, polite words laced with an unmistakable icy edge, “I heard you the first time.”

The stranger stiffens, feeling diminished under Kuras’ gaze. 

Kuras stands tall, skilfully leveraging his height to shield you behind him.

“Um, I apologise, I just –”

“And so you should,” Kuras interjects again, his gaze hardening. “Is the concept of consent unfamiliar to you?”

“Kuras, let him speak,” you say gently from behind him,” You are scaring him.”

“Am I?” Kuras replies with a dry touch of humour, glancing down at the stranger with indifference.

He then steps back, silently waiting for the stranger to continue. 

The stranger takes a shuddering breath, unable to hold Kuras’ piercing gaze.

“I am a street interviewer for YouTube,” he explains, voice trembling despite his polite smile.

“I ask couples about their first meetings, first impressions of each other and any advice for folks navigating dating.”

Kuras’ eyes widen almost imperceptibly, his lips parting in quiet astonishment.

In a blink of an eye, he regains his composure. ”I see,” he says, his gaze shifting to you. ”Had you explained your intentions earlier without a camera in our faces, I might have been more patient,” he adds, a trace of apology in his tone.

“I suppose we don’t mind sharing our story, do we?” He glances at you, a mischievous smile curling his lips, golden irises swirling with mirth enough for you to notice.

“It was quite the introduction,” you reflect with an amused smile.

Kuras releases a subdued chuckle, his thoughts briefly swept away by memories of the shared past with you.

The stranger arches an eyebrow, glancing expectantly between you and Kuras.

Your cheeks heat up as you recall the encounter and instinctively run a hand down your face in an attempt to compose yourself.

“I was admitted to the hospital for surgery,” you begin,” and naturally, before the doctor and medical staff could proceed, I was put under anaesthesia. I had no idea who was operating on me because I was unconscious before I could find out,” you explain, clearing your throat and stealing a quick glance at Kuras who meets your eyes with an mischievous gleam on his own.

He was enjoying your bashful glances at him, watching you squirm as you prepare yourself to continue the story, closer to the part when things actually start getting interesting.

“Go on, tell him what happened next,” he teases, his impish smile revealing his intent to corner you. “What happened after you woke up, hm?”

“I hate how much you are enjoying this,” you glare at him.

The stranger chuckles, pleasantly surprised to see the aloof doctor displaying such an endearing side; it's clear he adores you.

“So I wake up, and the glaring white light in the room blinds me,” you begin, continuing the story. “My eyes hurt so much,” you exaggerate, dramatically gesturing towards your face and Kuras bites back a laugh at your antics.

“I honestly thought I was dead. I remember thinking ‘if this is death, it’s not as bad as I imagined’ ” you continue. “But then I hear this smooth, low, rich voice.” You pause, casting a knowing smile at Kuras.

 “ ‘Do not be afraid’ ” you mimic Kuras’ voice as you remember it. “That startled me and let’s not forget I was still under the influence of anaesthesia, ” you clarify. “And when I looked at him, the first thing I asked was, ‘Am I in Heaven?’ ” You laugh at yourself, the memory is still fresh.

“And I replied, ‘What makes you think you would reach Heaven?’ ” Kuras adds in his calm, monotone voice, though the mischief in his eyes reveal his enjoyment of the conversation.

You nod, continuing, “And then I said, ‘Well, clearly, I am in the presence of an angel, so the only logical conclusion is that I am, in fact, in Heaven.’ “ You mock your own voice, speaking exaggeratedly for comedic effect.

Kuras chuckles, enjoying your witty delivery and playful nature. It’s a stark contrast to his usual aloof facade, which he maintains to conceal his mischievous side, reserved for a special few with you foremost among them.

“That must have made quite an impression,” the stranger laughs.

Kuras joins in with a chuckle. “They had no filter, blurting out the first thought that came to mind,” he says with a cat-like smile.

You give a carefree shrug, ”I barely remember what I said. All I know is my mother kept shushing me to stop my endless rambling.” you laugh, your eyes thoughtful.

“Allow me to assist,” Kuras interjects. Though his tone is plain, you having known him for quite some time, can detect his enthusiasm.

“They confessed how ‘beautiful’ I am. In fact, If I recall their exact words,” he pauses for dramatic effect, glancing at you for any sign of discomfort, but you only smile patiently. “‘You are so beautiful, one look at you and half of my illness vanished.’ ” 

He shakes his head with amusement as he continues, “Another memorable one was, ’If an apple a day keeps the doctor away then I wouldn’t dare touch or look at such a cursed fruit’ ” He teases you, ”Such dramatic words” and lets out a breathy laugh, reaching out to affectionately pinch your cheek.

You blush, attempting to maintain a poker face, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

“So how did you end up together like this?” the stranger asks, looking between them with genuine curiosity. “It must have taken some time, huh?”

“Time is always a factor or perhaps I just like to take things slow when it comes to romance,” Kuras shrugs, glancing at you.

“Even after the surgery, they had to come in regularly for check-ups. Initially, they were quite shy, a stark contrast to their drugged version,” he gives an amused smile as you laugh at the memory. 

 “But eventually, they began to open up and we grew closer. Our friendship gradually blossomed into romance,” Kuras says with a warm smile that reaches his eyes.

“To this day, I can hardly believe it.”

“In a good way or bad way?” you ask teasingly.

Kuras closes his eyes thoughtfully, intentionally leaving your question unanswered to tease you, the smile never quite leaving his face.

The silence lingers and then both of you break into laughter, the tension dissolving with shared amusement.

The stranger joins in their laughter before posing his next question, ”What were your first impressions of each other?”

Kuras smiles thoughtfully, encircling your waist and pulling you closer. “I meet so many patients every day from different walks of life. Some leave an impression,” he begins, pausing to choose his next words. “Their intoxicated rambling was quite amusing” he says, giving your waist a gentle squeeze. 

“But as we got to know each other, I found myself looking forward to my work hours more than ever,” he adds, casting a knowing glance at you. “I would count down the days until their next check-up, eager to see them again. Never have I encountered such a fascinating patient.”

You blush and laugh softly. “Well, my first impression was that I was in Heaven, so I guess I set the bar pretty high,” you tease. “But seriously, he was pretty curious himself. And once I got to know him, I realised how compassionate and dedicated he is. It was hard not to fall for someone like that.”

Kuras smiles, his eyes twinkling with affection. “And it was hard not to fall for someone who made every day a little brighter with their presence.”

Both of you exchange a tender look, leaving the stranger smiling at the genuine connection he witnesses.

“Any advice for those looking for love?” the stranger puts forth his final question.

You and Kuras exchange a look. “You go first,” Kuras urges you lightly.

“I was hoping you’d go first,” you chuckle, ”but if you insist.”

You turn to the stranger, “Engage in intellectual conversations, debates, and discussions on ethics, morals, politics and even mundane subjects. Stimulate each other with meaningful conversations,” you say, then add with a smile, “And most importantly don’t forget to tease and goof around with each other.”

Kuras jumps in to elaborate, ”Basically, connect with each other intimately on an intellectual level. See how your views align, and if they differ, can you find common ground peacefully? Keep each other on your toes,” he says with a mischievous smile, nudging you. 

“The more you value each other’s opinions, the more respect you’ll have for each other even if they contrast.” He teasingly adds, ”Their eccentric nature and unusual takes on our discussions drew me closer to them.” He chuckles, bumping your head playfully.

“Unusual, sure, but they made sense. I wasn’t just spewing nonsense,” you defend yourself.

“Sure,” Kuras teases.

“Which side are you on? Mine or against me?” you poke his side playfully.

“I like to play the devil’s advocate,” Kuras replies, sneaking in a tickle to your waist.

You squeal in surprise, pulling away from him, laughing.

Kuras reaches out, interlacing his fingers with yours and gently pulling you back to him.

He turns to the stranger with a courteous smile. “That was a delightful conversation,” he says politely, his tone elegant. “I hope we answered all your questions.”

The stranger nods respectfully, the doctor’s presence commanding deference. “Thank you very much,” he smiles appreciatively at the two of you “This interview was a pleasure to record.”

With a final nod, he parts ways with the couple.

As you and Kuras resume the walk, he pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. “You handled that beautifully,” he murmurs, his voice warm.

“You weren’t too bad Mr. Devil’s Advocate” you smirk.

He chuckles, giving your waist a gentle squeeze. ”I can’t help it, you bring out the mischief in me after all.”

You laugh softly, leaning into him. “Well, I am glad I can keep you on your toes.”

The two of you continue your stroll, hand in hand, to the planned coffee date, enjoying the comfortable silence and each other’s presence. 

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A/N note: Hey! sorry to gatekeep this for so long I had exams going on ugh. I used to watch some hilarious videos of people on anaesthesia after surgery and it was hella entertaining to watch so the idea of their first meeting came from that and hopefully Kuras didn't come off too OOC cause I think we all can agree he does have a playful side behind that aloof doctor façade he keeps on work even Ais said something about his 'endearing side' and he does subtly engage in teasing with the MC if you observe some of his dialogue closely. There's no way him and Ais get along ..he has to have a playful side for that XD But anyways I hope enjoyed this..

[redsrooftopprincess]

SOBBINF I LOVE YOUR DISABILITY HEADCANONS SO MUCH,, MIKEY'S IS A STRAIGHT PUNCH TO THE GUT <33

May I possibly request reader x Mikey where they find out how he copes and helps make him feel more comfortable? Maybe they find him stoned and snuggles are just exactly what he needs at the moment? Possibly even attempting to help him through his unhealthier coping mechanisms? Bonus points if reader has depression as well!

Of course, no rush and you totally don't gotta do this if you don't want!! Headcanons or one-shot would be rad either way, if you are interested in this req!

Your writing is just so real and I love it so much oml. You are doing AMAZING (in general- as a fanfic writer as well I understand the effort that goes into this stuff and maintaining a regular life ontop of it) and thank you for all your hard work!!

I hope this is okay! 😅

Crushed

Warnings: Drugs/Alcohol, Inebriation

"That's what this is, isn't it? A drive by?" he says, standing, and putting his clothes back on. 

You're on the couch in the club's green room, after the best sex of your life. The party ended hours ago, and in your E induced haze, you'd taken his hand and dragged him down here. 

"What? No! Why would you-?" You swing your legs over the side of the couch and walk over to him a little unsteadily, "Mike, no..." He doesn't look up at you. "I mean... is that what you want it to be?" You ask, hesitantly.

"That's what it is," he says simply.

You swallow and inhale, tears threatening.

He finishes putting on his belt and looks up at you, he tries to ignore the tears in your eyes. Regret, that's all it is, that you ever let him touch you. It didn't matter, it was almost sunrise, "That's what it is," he repeats, "That's always what it is."

You hear it, the bitterness, the acceptance in his voice. He just doesn't have it in him to hide it tonight. It breaks your heart. "Michaelangelo, please..." 

"Look, it's almost morning. I gotta get back underground. I'll see you Wednesday," he said, not really sounding like he was looking forward to the next party. He leaves before you can protest further. 

He knows what you're going to say. He's a great guy, but he's not exactly normal, you know? He's not exactly someone you can bring home to meet the folks. And he really doesn't need to hear it. He gets it. He does. And he feels like shit would be a lot easier if he didn't. If he didn't know *exactly* how unwanted he is. Only good for a good trip, and a decent fuck, if you're feeling adventurous. He snatches a bottle off the empty bar as he makes his way out into the alley. 

It had to be you tonight. He already hadn't been in the best place when the party started, so there was no resistance when you took his hand. On a good day, you could lead him into hell, and he'd follow with a smile on his face. On a night like tonight, he'd thank you. You're friends, but in these circles the line between friend and lover blurs easily. You've slept together a number of times and he always leaves right after. You mean everything to him, so he'd let you do anything to him. Use him however you like. As long as he doesn't have to hear you let him down easy.

You dress quickly. You know what's happening. It keeps happening. He's shutting down. Shutting you out. He assumes you got what you wanted, end of transaction, and honestly the sex was great, it's *always* great, but what you want is him. Not sex. And your not letting him run away. Not this time.

You follow him down into the sewers, and find him sitting against the wall of one of the tunnels, knees curled up to his chest and tears staining the fabric beneath his eyes. You startle him and he tries to get up to face whatever might be attacking him, but stumbles, drunk. 

He sits back down once he realizes it's you. Now everything is so much worse. He never wanted you to see him like this. He didn't need you to feel bad for him. You ask him what's wrong and he doesn't want to talk about it. You say that's okay, and move the bottle out of reach, sitting next to him. 

You sit together in silence for a few minutes. You're terrified that saying the wrong thing will send him running from you faster. 

"Mike-" 

"I don't wanna talk about it, okay?" He gets up to leave, taking the bottle with him, and has to catch himself on the wall when he sways. 

You sigh and stand, but don't move to follow him, "Why not?"

"Because there's no point." 

"Why not?"

"Because you..." He looks at you and his heart clenches, he sighs, "forget it." He stumbles a few steps away and stops with a heavy sigh, "I can pretend all I want, and so can the rest of you, like I'm normal... I'm not," he turns around to look at you, his face a mask of escalating pain and injustice as his fists clench tight, "I'm not. I'm not normal. I'll never be normal..." he shakes his head with a sickening smirk, "It's just a game. Everyone gets dressed up to be freaks for a night and we dance and drink and trip and fuck, and at the end of the night, everyone else gets to stop playing and go home because they can. But I can't take the costume off," he says, grabbing his plastron where it meets his chest, "This isn't fucking make up. I can't even walk around in the FUCKING DAYLIGHT!!!" He roars, hurling the bottle he's holding against the wall of the tunnel, a shard of glass ricochets back and cuts his cheek. "I'm not a person. I'm the fucking party mascot." He spits, venomously,

You take a step forward, "Mike, you know that's not true." 

Bitter laughter echoes in the enclosed space. "Funny. That's... That's funny. Really. Because I've been coming to these parties, meeting people, for seven years now. I've watched *seventeen* people end up just like Sarah and Ben." Your friends had been celebrating their engagement tonight, Michaelangelo had introduced them at a party three years ago. 

"I don't get to have that... I'll *never* get to have that," he chokes, "even as a joke. Honestly, at this point I'd take a joke. I'm already pretending to be a person, wouldn't be that hard of a jump to pretend to be loved, too. I'd just have to find someone willing to lie to me..."

He trails off and the silence that hangs in the air once the echoes of his voice fades is heavy and oppressive. 

"Like I said, there's no fucking point..." He turns around and starts walking down the tunnel towards home, one hand on the wall for support. "Don't worry, I'll be back to all smiles by Wednesday. We can pretend like this never happened. This doesn't have to be a thing and you don't have to pretend whether or not it matters if I'm okay." He hears you take a step toward him, "Go home, Y/N," he calls back without turning around. 

Fine. If he's going to leave anyway, you have nothing to lose. "No." 

"Okay, fine," he sighs continuing down the tunnel, "do whatever you want." 

"Okay," you say, simply, as you begin to follow him. 

He stops, shoulders tight, face toward the ceiling, and sighs heavily, "What are you doing?"

"Whatever I want?" you reply, closing the distance. 

He turns to face you, tired and hurting. If you want to go another round, he isn't exactly in a place where he can say no. At the very least, he could use the dopamine. He used to imagine it would be different with you. He should have known better. Jaw tight, he sighs before reaching for his belt.

Your eyes widen as you realize what he thinks you're implying, your heart shattering all over again. You bring your hand up to rest gently on his, stilling his movements. His eyes meet yours. Hesitant. Guarded. Unsure of what you're playing at. Your hand tightens gently around his as you step forward, and he tenses as if he might run. 

You reach up, and pull him down into your arms. He stiffens for a moment, he's already hanging on by a thread, but he can't help it, it's you. Instinct takes over, wrapping his arms around you and buying his face in your hair. 

You feel his grip tighten as the dam breaks, and despite his best efforts at keeping his shit under control, a ragged sob rips through him. 

You hold him as he cries, moving the two of you back to sitting against the tunnel wall. Eventually, the tears dry up, and he pulls himself away. He quiet for a long time, and looks down at his hands in his lap. He can't even look at you, ashamed and embarrassed. You didn't deserve that. To feel obligated to take care of him. You have better shit to do than this.

You reach up and twist one of the tails off his mask around your fingers, tugging once, gently. It draws his attention, and he meets your eyes, begrudgingly. You reach up and wipe the blood from his cheek, meeting his eyes again. "I'm sorry," he whispers, "I'm sorry, I..."

You hush him gently and sit up on your knees. Taking his face in your hands, you bring him down to you, kissing his forehead. 

He doesn't get it. Why are you being so nice to him. You got what you wanted, why did you follow him? Why are you comforting him? Why do you even care? He looks at you in bewilderment. 

"Tell you what," you say, "I'm not super comfortable with the idea of leaving you alone right now, and it's going to rain, and I don't want to get flooded out down here, so... What do you say we head back to my place. I can order us a pizza, and we can watch a movie, and you can head home once you're feeling a bit more sober stable..." You smile, you hope persuasively. 

"Yeah... Okay..." He says, as you help him to his feet. You aren't wrong. It is going to rain, and as fucked up as he is, traversing this set of tunnels in particular will be a little iffy if the storm drains start to flood. 

You bring him home. You do exactly as you say. Pizza. Movie. Ice cream for good measure. He's not sure what to do. He's usually the one doing the entertaining, and now here you are making sure he was happy and comfortable. 

It takes time, but by the end of the movie, Mikey's mostly sobered up, both physically and emotionally. You even get a genuine smile out of him as sunrise looms and he begins to make his way out. 

"So... thanks... for this," he says, looking at you softly. It was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him.

You smile, walking him to the window. "Anytime," you say, taking his hand and turning to face him as you come to the window, "and I mean that. Next time you get into that headspace will you do me a favor and try to reach for a phone instead of a bottle?" 

He smirks, nodding, "no promises, but I'll try."

"Thank you," you say as he reaches for the window. You touch his arm, gently "hey, one last thing," he steps back from the window to face you, and you stand up on your tiptoes and kiss him softly. It's simple, sweet, honest, "there's no reason you can't have what Sarah and Ben have," you whisper, before pulling away. 

He freezes. He's misunderstood. There's no way you're saying what it sounds like your saying, because it's what he wants you to be saying, so there's no *way* it could actually be what you're saying... Right?

You watch the torrent of emotions play out in his eyes, and you reach up to tug n on his mask. "Sunrise, Sunshine." You say. 

"Sunrise..." He repeats before he blinks, shaking his head, "Right. Yeah. Sunrise. I, uh, I'll see you -

"Wednesday."

"Tomorrow."

You say at the same time, before you laugh nervously under his gaze, "If, you know, you're not busy." You don't want to have to wait until Wednesday.

Hope flickers in his eyes. It's tiny and buried under so much hurt and insecurity, but it's definitely there, "I, uh, yeah... I mean, I gotta work, but I'll be wrapping up around two... so, if you're still up..."

"I'll be up," you say quickly, and he can't help but smile as both of your faces grow warm and you laugh gently. 

"Okay... I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then," he says quietly, almost in disbelief. Is this... What? What is this? He doesn't know, but it feels... better. Warm. Comforting. The things you said, the things you did for him tonight, this... He wants more of this. He'll do whatever he has to to have more of this. 

You can't help the grin that brightens your face. "Until tomorrow, then," you say, and kiss him one last time before he slips out into the desaturated predawn light, and is gone. 

.....

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins

[bluestjayy]

This feels like an appropriate time to remind folk: before blindly accusing authors of using AI based on an arbitrary list of 'obvious AI tells' remember that non-native speakers of a language often display these tells too. That autistic folk often display these tells too. That new writers who picked up a pen for the first time only a few months ago display these tells too. Writers going through transitional periods in their life and style often display those tells too. Creators trying a new medium or style just for the sake of experimentation often display those tells too.

It takes no effort at all to practice empathy and kindness, and to simply avoid any works you don't enjoy, or think may be AI, without publicly making a false claim that many authors would struggle to disprove.

Voting with your feet (or clicks) is always going to prove more effective at combating actual AI than just being outright mean on a social media platform. If you think it's AI, don't click on it. It's really that simple. Without the clicks, what incentive do AI authors have?

But if you just go to a different site and scream into a main tag in a vague and accusatory way? You know what's going to happen?

A fanfic author decides that maybe writing fic isn't worth it if they're going to have every other word scrutinised against a standard that shouldn't apply to them. Other readers start picking apart every fic they come across based on a set of rather unspecific (and in some lights, discriminatory) bullet points that 'make it easy to spot AI' and then it turns into unsubstantial finger pointing.

Fandoms lose more genuine fic authors this way than we would ever gain in AI writers. Just saying.

The epitome of this is just... be nice. For god's sake. Just be fucking nice. It's fandom. It's supposed to be the nice place.

Don't turn it into a battlefield.

[elucienweekofficial]

Elucien Fanfic Crossword Answer Key- Multi Chapter In Canon

How did you do? It's our hope through this week of puzzles that folks are able to find an existing fanfiction that speaks to them! Consider these a small masterlist filled with recommendations from the community itself. Below you'll find every fanfiction recommended attached to the author who created it, added in the order they were submitted! Fics were also categorized to their best of our ability. Check them out below!

Dear Lucien, Dear Elain by @crazy-ache & @zenkindoflove

“Perhaps you can speak them to me, if you so wish. I apologize if that is too forward, but I yearn to know you beyond simple pleasantries. Yours truly, Lucien P.S. My lady, your secrets are always safe with me.”

Epistolary (adj., of a literary work) in the form of letters. After the winter solstice in ACOSF, Elain and Lucien exchange letters as a means to get to know each other away from prying eyes. This fic is a collection of those letters.

Future Rust and Future Dust by @areyoudreaminof

While Elain and Lucien have settled into their relationship in the mortal lands, time is running out for Vassa. When Koschei comes for the firebird queen, he also wants his payment. Meanwhile, Beron Vanserra has worked with the Mortal Queens and Koschei for power in Prythian. Amid war and magic, can Koschei and Beron be defeated?

The Sun Rises by @starry-mantle

Fate has tied their souls together; now they just need to get to know each other. (Post-ACOWAR Elucien fic, rated for future chapters.)

All You Have Is Your Fire by @clockwork-ashes

'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Elain goes to the Autumn Court demanding an audience with the High Lord to save the mate she can barely stand to be in the same room with. She ends up having to stay much longer than she bargained for.

Burn Forever With Me by @zenkindoflove

End of ACOSF. After Feyre's traumatic birth, Elain writes to Lucien seeking comfort and company. She soon realizes that opening up to him in letters is much easier without her family's constant presence. But how long can she keep falling for Lucien a secret?

Call It What You Want To by @separatist-apologist

I brought a knife to a gun fight. They took the crown but it's alright.

Elain has spent three years in Night Court trying to find the same belonging her sisters have found with little success. When she looks in the mirror, all she can see are pieces of the person she once was. She's looking for a way out. Lucien spends more time away in the mortal lands than he does in Night Court, unable to stand looking at Elain, the mate he didn't want and, in turn, is so terrified of him she shrinks in his presence. Keeping distance makes the bond bearable, though after three years, he's ready for her to reject it and let him move on.

Enter Helion, High Lord of Day Court. Realizing Elain is looking for something more, Helion offers her an opportunity she can't pass up and a reason for Lucien to stick around for longer than a day. Helion has more up his sleeve than just a little matchmaking, and his actions have far reaching consequences for everyone in Pyrthian.

In The Darkness Before the Dawn, Leave a Light On by @infinitefolklore

Elain is sent to the Mortal Lands to live with Lucien, Jurian, and Vassa to work on her Seer abilities, find a way to break Vassa's curse, and try to discover information about Koschei. Elain and Lucien are forced to live and work together, and get to know one another along the way.

Never Not Mine by @separatist-apologist

Elain Archeron has been betrothed to the seventh born son of Autumn for as long as she can remember. With her family's reputation in the balance, Elain is resigned to her fate.

That doesn't mean she has to like it...or that she has to make it easy for him.

Found In the Sunlight by @cauldronblssd

Elain and Lucien have spent the past several years politely avoiding each other. When Elain has a vision about Lucien becoming the High Lord of Autumn, she agrees to accept the mating bond to a male that she hardly knows. Bound by the bond and a couple unexpected bargains, the newly mated couple form an alliance.

Turning Saints Into The Sea by @ataraxiasflame

Elain Archeron overhears a conversation between Lucien and Rhysand late one night that results in an unexpected emotional reaction. Her mate, Lucien Vanserra tried to resign as emissary to the Night Court, and she suspects the human queen may be responsible.

Despite being at odds with one another, Elain and Lucien discover that forces beyond their control now require their cooperation with each other. When Rhysand sends the reluctant mates on a mission together, they are finally forced to acknowledge the bond forced upon them both.

Phoenix Rising by @annaskareninas

It has been twenty-five years since Elain Archeron was Made fae. Ten years since the death of her husband and the love of her life, Azriel. Eight years since Beron Vanserra claimed Prythian as his own, and she and her friends scattered to the four winds to protect each other and their home.

Now the world is torn by endless war - between Beron's forces, the resistance, and the humans. All alone in a dark hospital on the Eastern Front, Elain works as a nurse and waits to die. Until one day, she recognises a patient: Lucien Vanserra, the last free Heir and their only hope. Charged with healing Lucien's mortal injuries, Elain finds herself drawn into a deadly game of warfare, with allies and enemies - both new and old - around every corner.

But as she and Lucien grapple with war, powerful magic, and a prophecy that may change everything, it is her heart that faces the biggest battle. For Lucien has secrets too - including one he's been keeping since that first day in Hybern. All Elain wants to do is survive, but it seems Fate has other plans for her.

The Seer of Dawn by @theirisworld

Set after the events of ACOSF. Elain still finds herself struggling with some aspects of her new fae life. A certain redhead seeks to help her.

A Court Of Eternal Sunshine by @mogitz

Lucien Vanserra is tormented by an unreciprocated bond with Elain. After witnessing a heartbreaking encounter between her and Azriel, Lucien begs Rhysand to erase his memories of their connection.

Transformed, he returns light-hearted and unburdened, bewildering the Inner Circle… especially Elain.

Icarus In Armor by @highladydawn

War is finally over in Prythian, but when the Inner Circle receives word that the Spring Court is on the verge of collapse, they must send help. At first, Lucien seems like the obvious choice. But after a startling vision, Elain is determined to keep her mate from crossing into Spring and putting his life at risk. Driven by determination and her own strange desire, she offers herself up as emissary in his place.

However, when Elain arrives at Rosehall, the High Lord is gone. It's up to her to save the people of Spring and prove she has unfathomable power of her own.

{In which Elain becomes the auxiliary High Lady of the Spring Court\\Post ACOWAR, bits of ACOFAS}

Dont Look Back by @velidewrites

Five hundred years ago, the humans fought hard for their freedom in the Great War and won. Now, their former masters seek retribution in a rebellion that grows stronger year by year.

When Elain Archeron finds out marrying Greysen Nolan might be the only solution to keep her family safe from the ancient, cruel Fae, she doesn't hesitate to fulfil her duty. What Elain doesn't know, though, is that the man with the fiery hair and russet eyes is not her fiancé, but his killer—and when she finally finds out, well...it will be far too late to turn back.

To Be Set Alight by @running-on-backstreets

Elain Archeron is frustrated. She didn't choose to be immortal, she didn't choose to become a seer, and she certainly didn't choose to be mated to Lucien Vanserra, a male who refuses to be anything but a stranger to her. But when she starts having dreams about Lucien that are driving her to distraction, she starts to wonder if there is a way they can satiate the bond while getting to know one another.

If she can do that, then maybe she can finally decide what she wants and make a choice all her own.

Courting Lucien Vanserra by @crazy-ache

“I think it may be too late for us, that I was a wretch for far too long and now he wants nothing to do with me—” Elain blurted out in a teary confession to her sisters. Nesta, face like stone, hissed. “Then there is only one thing left to do. You must thoroughly and ardently court him.”

Elain’s tears stopped rolling down her face with utter confusion. “Court him?”

“You need to seduce Lucien,” Feyre clarified with a feral grin.

Summer Heat by @zenkindoflove

Lucien nodded his head, looking for any cue that he was dismissed. “Got it. Keep everyone in line and try not to make an ass of myself in front of my mate. I’ll see what I can do.”

Summer Court is hosting the Summer Solstice Summit and the Night Court is sending their best emissaries to attend. It will be Elain's first time mingling in another court, and it's a good thing she has an expert guiding her: the mate she's been ignoring for the last two years.

Meanwhile, Eris has been sent to the summit to spy on Summer's developments. What he doesn't anticipate is entangling in a steamy, forbidden romance.

Kings, Queens, and Vagabonds by @gingerwritess

Elain is wasting away in the Night Court, and is well aware of it. She lets it happen, seeking out a destructive last hope to return to her human life and human love, but withers into nearly nothing when it doesn’t go as she hoped. Her unwanted mate wants nothing more than to see her healed, and takes her to the Day Court, in hopes that true sunlight can bring her back into herself.

Freed of the suffocating darkness of the Night Court and resigned to being fae, Elain demands Lucien show her this inescapable new world, intent on seeing the world for herself; not through the prophetic eyes of the Cauldron.

But being a seer is a valuable, rare thing—and unwanted interest in her abilities makes her a much-desired commodity across Prythian. And Lucien won’t lose yet another person he holds dear.

Instincts by @lucienarcheron

A lovely anon sent me this prompt: "Could I please request a fic based on elain reading a really sad book where 1 of the characters dies and she's absolutely torn up over it and Lucien sees her sobbing but he doesn't know what to do cause he doesn't get being invested in fictional characters (plss the irony has me ded) like she does, so he just sits with her and follows his mate bond instinct."

I took the idea and ran with it lol.

Tales of the Fox & the Fawn by @lucienarcheron

A series of short snippets to fill my Elucien heart <3

Four Minutes by @infinitefolklore

The Night Court attends a party in Dawn Court. Lucien finds out some information and turns into an absolute flirt. There's ballroom dancing, except hot. Elain can barely contain herself.

Exile by @separatist-apologist

We always walked a very thin line

Humans have been bred for the Fae for as long as the Archeron sisters have been alive. Nesta, Elain, and Feyre are used to the world they lived in and had a plan to escape to the continent, where open revolution has already happened thanks to famed General Jurian. They don't expect Tomas, human overseer for the Fae, to exact his revenge against Nesta's rejection of him, by sending all three Archeron sisters to Fae-held Prythian and the High Lords that govern that land.

Separated, Feyre and Nesta are sent to shadowy Night Court with feared High Lord Rhysand and his unpredictable winged General Cassian while Elain is taken by Eris Vanserra to terrifying Autumn Court to serve the High Lord's wife. Desperate to reunite, the sisters form their own plans for escape, unaware that fate is lurking in the form of Rhys, Cassian, and Lucien Vanserra.

The Archeron's are about to learn that the ties that bind sisters are strong…but those that bind mates are stronger. Set against the backdrop of looming war, each sister will be forced to choose between the person they've been their entire lives and the males desperate to keep them for all of eternity

A Court of Ash and Sunlight by aturner1205

“I know you’d rather not get help from me. I know you’ve rejected our mating bond and I’ve accepted that. But I still want to make sure you’re safe.”

Her heart twisted in its cage, filling her whole body with icy tears that would not spill.

Tell him. He deserves to know the truth. Tell him.

And because this time the voice inside was hers, because it was strong and clear and right, she did.

“I haven’t rejected the mating bond with you, Lucien,” she said quietly, her chest pounding so loud she could hardly hear the words. “But I think I damaged it, because—because I’ve never felt it.”

I Know Places We Won't Be Found by @separatist-apologist

They'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down

Elain Archeron and Lucien Vanserra are two sides to the same coin, not that they'd ever know it. After nearly four years of ignoring each other, the mating bond between them, and their trauma, Lucien has had enough. While Lucien is ready for resolution, Elain is still trying to figure out who she is now that she's not human, and unravel her cauldron-blessed powers which seem to intensify with each passing year. When an accidental street fire prompts Elain to call Lucien for help, Lucien decides to take Elain from the Night Court entirely, effectively kidnapping her. Tucked away in the Spring Court, far from prying eyes, Elain will have to reconcile who she was as a human with who she is as a Fae, and decide if the man she's mated to is who she wants to spend the rest of her immortal life with.

Above All Shadows Rides the Sun by flamesandshadows

“Above all shadows rides the Sun and Stars for ever dwell: I will not say the Day is done, nor bid the Stars farewell.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien

It's been ten years since Lucien's mating bond was rejected, and he's moved on as best as he could -- soaking up every moment he can with the human woman he knows he can't have forever, helping his friends rebuild their courts post-war, and above all, avoiding the Night Court and any reminders of Elain Archeron. But when he and Tarquin finally convince the High Lords to meet and discuss equality initiatives for lesser fae, and the human refugees still living in Prythian, he'll have to face old ghosts of the past.

All I Wanted by fluffy_cloudz

Elain and Lucien have shut each other out of their lives almost completely. Lucien is drowning himself in the human realms and Elain has possibly found someone to bring her back to life in the Night Court. When tensions rise and Lucien witnessed a private moment between Elain and Azriel, he abandons his emissary duties to the Night Court and flees to the Continent.

Months go by with no word of her estranged mate’s whereabouts, and Elain finds herself once again alone amongst the Inner Circle. However, an accidental slip of fate brings her back to Lucien, and an impossible amount of trouble ensues.

The Sun Is Fading by @velidewrites

Lucien Vanserra has lost everything: his lover, his home, his friend. Now, on a Solstice night far too cold for the fire in his blood, he watches his mate slip away from him, too—right into the arms of another male.

He makes a promise then, to the stars who have never listened—he will no longer dream. From now on, Lucien is going to burn—and he’ll make sure the rest of the world burns with him.

The Joker and the Queen by climbingmountains

“And who was I to say That this was meant to be? The road that was broken Brought us together“

Elain couldn’t help her slight guffaw even as she tried to hang on to her annoyance. “You can’t just decide to be my best friend.”

He leaned back on his arms nonchalantly, “Too bad. I just did.”

Elain and Lucien decide to ignore the mating bond and work on being friends. But the more they’re together the more they want to be. Can they move past who they were to discover what they could become?

A Little Bit Of Light Reading by @infinitefolklore

Elain is all alone at the Town House and Lucien makes a surprise appearance. They decide to "explore the mating bond," but for how long can they keep it a secret? And what happens when the Inner Circle starts meddling in their business?

[curator-on-ao3]

fic author q&a

I was tagged by @deadheaddaisy for a fun and great fic author game. Thank you for tagging me, @deadheaddaisy! ❤️ As happy as I am to be tagged, the thing is, y’all, I’ve done that particular game a few times already and, even though it’s a great game, I was in the mood for something different. So, I’ve made new questions — and answered them — and I’ve tagged some folks in case they want to answer them, too.

1. Why do you write fanfic?

Life can be stressful, and writing fanfic can be like a little vacation. It’s not my life, anymore, it’s the characters’ lives.

2. Which of your posted stories do you think about the most, even though the story is “finished”?

I think about Malleable and Unmalleable Orders (Mirror Pikeone, E) probably because it’s so different from what I usually write. I also think about The Light Before Dawn (Pikeuna, M) because, even though it would have bogged down the story, I do think they eventually get married and the details of all that sometimes cycle through my brain.

3. If you could give yourself fic advice from when you first started writing fic, what would that advice be?

Enjoy this time of not really knowing fic conventions or expectations.

4. What’s your relationship to fic stats?

I try to avoid them. I love every kudos and comment and bookmark and subscription. But I don’t go looking for the numbers unless I have to.

5. Is there a pairing or scenario or friendship you miss writing? If so, why? If not, why not?

I miss writing Kathryn Janeway/Tom Paris. I had a lot of fun with that pairing for a while.

6. What motivates you to write?

If I don’t write the stories down, they get stuck in my brain. So I guess setting them free (in good ways) is my motivation.

7. Why do you write for the fandom(s) that you write for?

I really do believe in the ideals of Star Trek — IDIC and peaceful coexistence and all that stuff. Even though I often write for the spin-off series, not the original Star Trek, creating stories in that universe lets me be part of it, even in a small way. Also, as a bonus, I do think Trek readers are great about comments, kudos, etc., and that helps a lot.

8. If you’re stuck writing a WIP, what do you do?

I might work on something else or take a break. The problem will rotisserie in my head and probably work itself out if I don’t push it too hard.

9. What do you wish people knew about comments?

That any nice comment is welcome and appreciated and, if the person doesn’t want a reply to their comment, they can just say so and it’s easy enough for the author to honor their wishes.

10. Maybe there’s a question you wish had been on here. What’s that question (and answer)?

How about, “Do you read public AO3 bookmark notes on your stories?” Yes. Because of bookmarks like these on The Autobiography of Kirsten Clancy (Gen, T):

Tagging with no pressure: @deadheaddaisy, @iamstartraveller776, @fiadorable, @sun-lit-roses, @coffee-in-that-nebula, @grissomesque, @enterprise-come-in, @starrybouquet, @lorcaswhisky, @marymoss1971, @emilie786, @cnrothtrek, @elephant-in-the-pride-parade, @pc-corner, @divinemissem13, @meddow, @missparker, @jazzfic, @the-lady-general, and you. If my tag anxiety got the best of me and I didn’t put your name here, please consider yourself tagged. ❤️

[not-poignant]

Hey Pia! Have you ever written or considered writing fat characters? Not because I think anyone is obligated to, just genuinely curious. I hope you’re doing well!

Hi anon!

For main characters, I think the only ones have been Hank from Eversion (a fanfic on my thespectaclesofthor account) and The Iron Bull from Stuck on the Puzzle, though Cullen doesn't mention it much, the one time he specifically mentions Bull having a thick layer of fat over his muscles, it's specifically to say that he likes that soft strength. As side characters in fanfiction there's also Aidhe, and I feel like I'm forgetting someone but I don't remember all the characters I've written T.T

As side characters in my fiction, there's also Aleutia, Fenwrel, Mikkel, an unnamed wolverine shifter in The Ice Plague, and probably others I'm forgetting. For characters who would be considered smaller fats in our world, there are also characters like Ondine!

It's still not as much representation as I'd like, but I experience dysmorphia when I write characters due to my own internalised fatphobia (I'm a fat person with an EDNOS around restrictive eating, my dietitian has me under pretty firm instructions to avoid triggers where possible / in my control, so when I do write fat characters, it's overwhelmingly in worlds or contexts where no one views that negatively, which is why it's sometimes easy for folks to miss. But I do also under-describe it, which heads back to my own personal issues, I think).

[kingofbodyrolls]

PSA: Support Your Fanfic Writers! 📣 (Yes, this is a rant, but a fun one, I promise)

Listen up, folks! This isn’t about money—put your wallets away. This is about engagement. Yes, the glorious trifecta of likes, comments, and reblogs (especially reblogs, but we’ll get to that). So buckle up, because this is a love letter/rant/public service announcement that your favorite writers desperately need you to hear.

Let’s start with the bad news: I’ve seen way too many amazing writers pack their bags and leave this platform, and honestly? It hurts. It makes me sad, angry, and frustrated enough to scream into the Tumblr void. Why? Because there’s a big ol’ elephant in the fanfic room, and it’s called low engagement.

What is Low Engagement?

Let me break it down for you:

A fic gets few likes.

A fic gets even fewer reblogs (😭).

Comments? Barely a whisper.

Why does this happen? Maybe people don’t vibe with the story. Maybe they forget to reblog. Maybe the Tumblr gods are punishing us. Who knows? But here’s the thing: engagement matters. For a writer, reblogs are the gold standard. Reblogs = love. Reblogs = visibility. Reblogs = “Hey, world! This story is awesome—check it out!”

Why Low Engagement Is a Confidence Killer

Let’s be real—writing takes time, effort, and soul. Writers pour their hearts (and sometimes their sanity) into crafting stories for their readers. But when the engagement is low? It feels like screaming into the void. It’s disheartening. It makes writers second-guess themselves. And yeah, sometimes it makes them leave altogether.

And let me tell you about silent readers—those sweet, well-meaning souls who read but don’t interact. Look, I get it. Not everyone wants to leave comments or reblogs. But when a writer hears nothing—nothing—they often assume the worst: “No one likes my story. I should just stop writing.”

That’s why I’m here, yelling into the Tumblr abyss: Engage, people! Even a simple “OMG I LOVED THIS” or a string of heart emojis can make a writer’s day. And reblogs? Reblogs are the holy grail.

Tumblr ≠ Instagram (Stop Treating It Like It Is!)

Can I get this tattooed somewhere? Tumblr doesn’t work like Instagram. There’s no magic algorithm that boosts posts. If you want your favorite writers to stick around, you have to help their stories reach new eyeballs—and that means REBLOGGING.

Here’s the cheat code: If you like a fic, reblog it. If you really like it, reblog it with some tags or a mini-review. Want to go full superstar? Add a screaming reaction in the comments. Seriously, it’s that easy.

“But What If I Didn’t Like the Fic?”

Great question! Not every story will be your cup of tea, and that’s okay. Here’s what you can do:

Leave a like. It’s the bare minimum but still appreciated.

Maybe highlight something you did like in the story. No need for harsh critiques unless the writer explicitly asks for it.

How to Be a Writer’s Favorite Reader

Here’s a handy guide to becoming the MVP of your favorite fandom:

Like. Comment. Reblog. (The Holy Trinity!)

Reblog with tags or a quick review. Examples:

“This broke my heart in the best way 🥲”

“Chapter 3? Perfection. That plot twist? I gasped.”

Highlight specific parts of the fic you loved (a line, a moment, a character's sass—whatever made you feel something).

Send the writer an ask! Scream about your favorite scene. Yell about your emotions. Writers LOVE this.

Want bonus points? Make fanart. Create a playlist inspired by the fic. Recommend their work to others. Write a heartfelt thank-you message. These little gestures mean the world to writers.

Why This Matters (Yes, I’m Wrapping This Up, I Swear)

At the end of the day, we’re all here because we love stories—reading them, writing them, sharing them. But if we don’t support the people creating these stories, they’ll stop. And that’s a loss for everyone.

So, my plea to you is simple: Show your favorite writers some love. Hit that reblog button. Leave a comment, even if it’s just “!!!” or “cries in emotions.” Scream about their work in the tags. Your engagement keeps the fandom alive.

Got thoughts? Other tips? Throw them in the comments or reblogs—let’s keep this conversation going! And to every writer out there feeling discouraged: You’re amazing. Don’t stop creating. We need your stories. 💖

[alpaca-clouds]

Why Does Everyone Struggle With Solarpunk Stories?

Fun Fact: My own introduction to Solarpunk happened in Germany on a German convention. I met a friend, who I had not seen in quite a few years in the creator alley, and they and their partner had just brought out an indie comic, which they introduced as a Solarpunk comic.

I do however wonder whether it really could be considered Solarpunk now, as it was mostly fantasy (which in itself is not a criterium), but the main overlap with Solarpunk generally was this idea of using the Art Noveau aesthetic for everything. From what I remember, it was not really very concerned with any of the Solarpunk themes - nor with anything considered Solarpunk technology - though I do remember some flying machines that were powered by sun energy.

But it makes me think about one thing: There are still barely any explicit Solarpunk novels out there. Like, there are a few, yes, but barely any. Most of what is considered Solarpunk works is stuff that folks among the Solarpunk community have looked at and gone: "Oh, yeah, this kinda feels Solarpunk, doesn't it?"

Most of the Solarpunk books out there are in fact anthologies. (And yes, I plan to continue reviewing those, I right now just struggle with reading because of health-related issues.) And even among those anthologies I will look at half the stories and think to myself: "Well, but are they really Solarpunk?"

In some cases that is because the stories in question are really build around too much of a dystopia. In other cases it is, because even the technology/ecology part is not really there.

And sure, I am talking a lot about how it is fairly easy to tell a Solarpunk story if you just let go of the idea that a Solarpunk story has to be one certain thing - rather than any kind of story that is set in a Solarpunk setting and deals with Solarpunk themes. But on the other hand it is not like I am writing a whole lot in the genre either, is it?

Admittedly the reason for me might be a bit of another one than for other writers. For me it is simply that I find it currently hard to motivate myself to write anything in terms of original fiction, because... Well, writing fanfics is just a whole lot more fun, and also will get me a lot more feedback and such.

And of course, on the side of the publishing industry I just don't know if anyone but Android Press and World Weaver Press even do much in publishing of Solarpunk stories? I am honestly not entirely certain.

But there definitely is some sort of struggle here right now. And that is without me going into the fact that half of what is published in Germany with the lable of "Solarpunk" is actually Cyberpunk but with some mild ecological themes in there.

And yeah, all in all it really makes me wonder, where the issue lies.

Is it a thing of a missing community for Solarpunk creatives, especially writers? Because I know that most online Solarpunk communities focus a ton on guerilla gardening, second hand clothes, and right to repair - but just don't have a ton of striving creative groups among them. The one Discord Server for Solarpunk writers I was on got deleted by the mod for being inactive.

So, yeah. I don't know.

Would someone be interested in another sort of community for Solarpunk creatives? And if so, what kind of community?