#i remember liking it but not so much that i just ghost wrote the plot in my own fic
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analogwriting · 1 year ago
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I'm writing this chapter for iciw and it involves cars and I just unlocked a core memory. I just realized this plot is almost the same as death race. a movie i watched, like, once with my grandpa when i was younger. like over a decade ago
guess it stuck with me more than I thought lmfaooo
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hellfire--cult · 3 months ago
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Johnny Storm x Fem!Reader
wc: 6.7k+
summary: Johnny grows infatuated with you, something he never thought was going to happen to him, at least for a long while. He liked being single, but then you came along, and all he could think about was you... then you got kidnapped thanks to him, and he felt so guilty for it... but not everything was as it seemed.
warnings: +18 smut, p in v (no protection), roughness, hate fucking, some fluffiness, branding of skin, description of getting burnt, slapping, some violence, porn with plot
a/n: I had this vision that needed to be written cause it would not leave my fucking mind, and this was the only chance i would be able to write something like this. I will clarify, this is my first ever MCU fic, and I do not believe I will write anything else for it, at least not now. If you are from the MCU fandom, and decide to follow me, don't expect more really... i mainly write stranger things, i was just... too haunted with this image...
Anyways, I love Joseph Quinn, so I pictured HIS Johnny Storm for this (yes, he triggered the thots.)
thank u to @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby for proofreading this and helping with my editing cause i never wrote marvel and i needed their opinion, i love both thank u
Enjoy and don't forget to reblog!
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BRAND ME
When Johnny Storm saw you for the first time, he thought Cupid fired an arrow his way.
Now, it wasn’t the best of situations of course, he had to save you from a slight altercation regarding some of Doctor Doom’s subjects wreaking havoc in the city and all that, and he saved you by beating up the guy that held you hostage in spirits of saving his ass. 
You had thanked him, smiled at him and he may or may have not thought of having you as one of his conquests. He was known for it, you absolutely knew about it, but he couldn’t really help himself when he started talking to you. He first asked to meet up with you privately and you immediately rejected his advances, surprising him, sure, but not stopping him, so you offered to meet up with him for a coffee after work. 
Coffee was not something he did often. It was usually drinks, and to be fair, no women really ever said no to him. Sure he messed up a few times, but who hasn’t? Still, sharing a coffee with you didn’t sound like a bad idea. It was different, but different didn’t always mean bad. 
So you gave him the address to your building, and at 1 PM sharp on Tuesday, he met up with you right outside of it. You were wearing the typical office attire, skirt to the knees, a nice blouse, a comfortable jacket and he still thought you looked absolutely beautiful. Sitting down at the coffee shop, you two talked, and talked, and he found out so much about you.
You were an only child, and you have been working since you could remember. You lived alone, you liked to cook, and you absolutely disliked pickles. Every small thing he found out about you, he reciprocated with a fact about himself, without giving much away of course.
One coffee date turned into two. Then four. Then, counting didn’t matter anymore.
For a month he has been seeing you, and never once has he made a move on you. It’s not that he didn’t want to… He absolutely wanted to. But you were different. You were completely different from all the flings he had, and he even tried to have one after meeting you and it felt pointless. He didn’t know himself any longer, even Reed got a little worried from all the sneaking around he did, but Johnny couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help it when it came to you.
You were magnificent, a breath of fresh air to be around with. You always greeted him with a smile to your face and he’s never felt more alive when you did. He, of course, had to be careful with you. Not because of trust, but of what might happen to you if you were seen being involved with one of the Fantastic Four. He always picked out private places for the two of you to meet, away from public eyes. 
Coffee shops turned into take-out coffees and parks. Talks that happened at your home’s balcony. Him looking for a comforting shoulder after a long day of being a hero. He was always careful in keeping you away from public. In keeping you a secret. In keeping you safe.
But not careful enough.
When you didn’t answer your phone that day, his heart stopped. You always answered. He tried and tried but you just wouldn’t pick up and he became restless. He flew out of the headquarters, not caring for the waves people gave him, with your apartment as his only destination. He felt himself growing cold despite being up in flames, flying, the horrible feeling that something happened to you making him want to puke.
And when he arrived at your home, he froze. Your balcony’s sliding door was open and what he saw inside made his whole world shatter. Your things were all thrown to the floor. Your furniture was destroyed. Your pictures were all broken and shattered. And then, as he put a foot into your apartment, he saw you. 
You were breathing heavily as you lay on the floor, facing down, and your hair was all over your face. He rushed towards you, jumping over everything that was on the floor, and immediately dropped to his knees in order to scoop you up in his arms and turn you. He pushed the hair off your face as his heart beat loudly in his chest, only for it to come to a stop as he saw the open wound on your eyebrow and the bruise that was starting to form all around it. 
“Crap– fuck!” He felt his world plummeting to the ground as he tried shaking you awake, calling out your name, and he sighed with relief as your eyes slowly opened, only for your face to contort into a wince.
“What…?” He shook his head at you and held onto your form, one arm underneath the back of your knees while the other was wrapped behind your back. He got up on his two feet with ease as he rushed towards the balcony. You made a sound of discomfort as you were moved around, and all he wanted was to keep you safe right now. He needed to take you with him. He cannot leave you alone, not when all of this is probably his fault.
“It’ll be quick, I promise…” He took a deep breath as he controlled his flames temperature, ensuring it would not go towards his arms. Your eyes looked up to meet his, his eyes that were now fiery orbs, looking down at you with sadness displayed on his eyebrows. You whined through the pain again and he immediately leaped out of your balcony.
You could feel the heat off his body, but he made sure to make it as less uncomfortable as he could, but he still knew he had to be quick. He was angry, desperate, and that wasn’t making the flames be any less intense. He knew he was gonna break a rule, but he couldn’t give two shits for the consequences he might face with his family. His sister was going to kill him, but she will understand. They all will have to understand.
He sneaked you in, heading straight to his room, laying you down on his bed. The rage he felt with himself was scorching him from the inside out, so he took the top of his suit as fast as he could and rushed towards the bathroom to get one of his medical kits. 
He aided you, cleaned your wound, put the butterfly strip over it, and even gave you medicine for any impending headaches. He checked for other wounds besides the one on your eye, but there was nothing else, at least from the places where your clothes did not cover you. 
An hour passed and you were slowly coming back to your senses. You opened your eyes to see him walking back and forth, pacing, worry displayed on his features as he seemed deep in thought. You slowly sat up on the bed, looking around, wincing slightly thanks to the throbbing in your head.
“Johnny?” Your voice was small but it was enough for his head to snap towards you and rush to the bed, sitting on the edge right next to you. His hand came up to caress the side of face, making sure to not touch the bruise on your eye.
“Hey…” His eyes were filled with fear, anger, sadness, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat as your eyes roamed all over the room.
“Where… am I?” Your eyes found his again and he gulped, thumb caressing your cheek softly.
“My room… I– I couldn’t leave you alone…” Your eyes widened for just a second to then look down at your hands. Your breathing turned heavy as your eyes filled with tears, shaking your head at him.
“I– I thought it was you… I opened the sliding door and– They wanted information–” Your voice was cut off with a sob and Johnny saw how you winced in pain, your hand flying to press onto your temple and he quickly shushed you, scooching closer to you, lifting his hand to grab yours gently and move it away from your face.
“Don’t touch it– I… I seriously thought I was careful in keeping you safe and hidden… I screwed up.” Your eyes met his, seeing the guilt that was flooding inside, knowing he was torturing himself because of it. His lips were downturned, disappointment written all over. You shook your head at him, your hand grasping his.
“I don’t regret a minute of it…” His eyes met yours as you guided your gaze around the room, frowning slightly as your headache seemed to start to drift away. “So this is your room…” “Fantastic Four headquarters… nobody knows I sneaked you in, but I really couldn’t care less. I won’t let you out of my sight, at least until whoever is stalking me is captured.” You turned towards him again, a soft smile on your lips that made his heart combust in its own flames.
“Probably a fan.” Even now you still joked to him, when you were the one hurt. You were too beautiful. Too incredible, even for his own good. He should be careful with his moves, he should let you know how different you are to his other flings… but his body betrayed him as his free hand came towards your cheek, holding it gently, and his lips surged forward, slotting right onto yours.
Your eyes were wide as a surprised gasp fell from your lips, but you reciprocated that kiss, even if a bit hesitant at first. His lips moved with yours as his body started rising in temperature which he was trying to keep at a warm number. He could easily control his temperature but with you, he was finding it hard to do so. 
He was happy because you were not pulling away from the kiss. You were moving into it, following his lead, not even stopping it after your tongues started to dance together. He wanted you. He definitely wanted to show you just how special you are but– You were hurt, and he can’t do that to you now… so he pulled away. Your breaths were heavy as you looked at each other and he rubbed your cheek with his thumb.
“I’ll tell everyone  tomorrow you’re staying here for a while. You need safety, and I can give that to you… Just stay with me…” He held you so gently, afraid of you running away, or disappearing right before him. You licked your lips as you nodded slowly at him, to which he responded with a satisfied smile. He leaned forward, pecking your lips once more before getting up which alarmed you, getting hold of his hand.
“Where are you going?” Your voice was small and he thought he was going to break listening to it. 
“I’m not going anywhere, just going to get you some clothes for you to sleep in, baby.” Your eyes widened at the new petname, but Johnny noticed how you tried to look away from embarrassment, and he found you too cute. He will definitely protect you. He won’t let whoever is looking for him, or his team, hurt you. 
But when he fell asleep and cuddled up to you after having some tea with you before bed, he didn’t expect to be awoken in the middle of the night to a ring of his cell phone. He was startled, sitting up on the bed quickly only to realize you were not by his side. He looked around frantically and grabbed his phone from the night table next to his bed. He answered it, getting up from the bed to walk towards his bathroom in hopes of seeing you in there.
“Hello?” And all he heard was heavy breathing on the other side until a raspy, robotic voice talked.
“How does it feel to wake up alone?” And Johnny’s blood drained, evaporated, and he knows you are not in the building. How did it happen? How? There were cameras, security, detectors, how?
“What the fuck did you do to her?” His voice was coming from in between his teeth, like a growl, a hiss, a threat. The other voice only laughed, igniting Johnny’s anger even more than before.
“Come find out. We’re at her old apartment. We have to talk, Johnny, so come alone.” And like that, the line clicked. He was breathing heavily as he looked down at his phone and his hand shook as he grunted, his eyes igniting in yellow as the hand that was holding his phone set aflame, destroying the device before he threw it across the room, making it hit and for the plastic to splash onto the wall. 
He ran his hands through his hair, wanting to rip it all out, to burn the whole building down. If he didn’t tell anyone, he might die, but if he does, then you… He couldn’t. He has a chance, even if alone. He has to save you, he can’t let them have you, he can’t let you suffer because of him. 
So he stepped out to his balcony, his body engulfed in flames as he leaped into the sky, headed straight to your apartment. He was trying to go as fast as he could, his breathing heavy with anticipation as he swerved through the buildings. He finally got onto your balcony, the sliding doors were open again but when he looked inside, he couldn’t help but feel confused.
He took a few steps in as his flames subdued, and all your furniture was gone. All your pictures, even the cabinets… it was just empty. Empty except for the big windows that were on the side. What happened?
A chuckle coming from one corner startled him. It was the robotic voice that slowly transformed into a female one. A voice he knew too well. A voice that never chuckled in that manner, always be it a giggle, or a little scoff, but never… this. He turned to face it, and his eyes widened as the figure stepped into the small bit of light that came through the windows thanks to the night sky.
“Aren’t you a little naive Johnny?” 
And there, in front of him, was you. Face hard, wearing a simple cocktail black dress, some black heels… nothing like what you normally wear. You didn’t look dizzy because of your bruise, the butterfly strip he applied to you hours ago was still there. It was you… but at the same time, it wasn’t.
“W-What…?” He stuttered, not feeling the tips of his fingers as he looked at how you slowly walked towards him, throwing a device to the ground, a voice-changing device. 
“I really didn’t think you would take me to your headquarters. Not this quickly at least.” You sighed, looking out the window as you kept talking. “I had a whole large plan for it, but you just had to make it THAT easy.”
You finished with a giggle, the giggle that he knew too well. The giggle you directed to him many times when he told you stories about Sue and him. Stories about how he made a fool out of himself on a few dates. The giggle that he liked so much… all for it to be a fucking lie. You–
“You lied to me… You–” He felt his heart twist as your eyes turned to meet his once more. He really isn’t lucky, isn’t he? The first time he feels something genuine and he gets stepped on by the universe. You took a step towards him as you put your hands behind your back.
“Not all the time. I can promise that, but my boss will be glad to hear I got into the headquarters in such a short period of time…” Your eyes studied his face, seeing how his features turned from shock to anger, slowly, making a wicked grin appear on your face. “Aw… are you mad?”
“What the fuck do you think?” His voice turned low, and it almost made you freeze in your place, but you kept talking, your head high.
“You look cute when mad. I wish I could take a picture right now–”
“Stop–”
“I would hang it up, frame it… Name it ‘My best show yet’.” Johnny felt his body start to burn, and he had to try to keep the flames from igniting out of his suit, but each word you spat out, made it more and more difficult for him to hold himself back.
“I said stop–”
“I just didn’t think it would be this quick. Who would've thought that Johnny Storm would be so desperate for actual love? So much, he throws himself head first like an idiot–” 
A hand came to grab the back of your head, fingers gripping onto your scalp, grabbing your hair, and yanking your head backwards with no restraint, no care. And suddenly your eyes were looking at the Human Torch. His eyes were yellow flames, his face, his hair, his body, everything was on fire and it was burning you. He was baring his teeth at you, your face illuminated by his flames, and you noticed the hand holding the back of your head was not lit.
“I could kill you right now. I could easily burn you to a crisp for no one to find your body.” You trembled under his grasp, and your breathing turned a little heavy as you stared into his flaming eyes.
“But you won’t…” Your reply was soft, making the flames go down, making you breathe out in relief, feeling the cool air again on your body and face. He was still glaring, his nose slightly scrunched up in anger, in disgust. “Approaching you romantically was never the intention.” 
That made him tilt his head at you, his eyebrow twitching at the mention of romance. Of how he was so close to having it but–
“Why tell me this? Why not keep the fucking act until you have more?” And you didn’t answer him, still under his grasp as you looked up at him. He couldn’t describe what he saw in your eyes, but he knew that it wasn’t hatred. He knew that there was a feeling that you shouldn’t be experiencing but you couldn’t help it.
So you stayed silent, swallowing as you kept your eyes on him. You saw him tremble slightly and he raised his free hand, making your gaze turn to it as the flames enveloped it all, to the tip of his fingers. It wasn’t a massive flame, more like embers, small, yet damaging. 
You felt anything but scared of him, and he knows it, yet his anger fuels him in ways he cannot describe, and he wants to show you. He wants to show you just how fucking angry, enraged, he is. He wants to hurt you, burn you, engrave himself deep on your skin and in your mind. 
“Say you don’t want this.” He needs to know if he connected the dots right. Why tell him? Why tell him who you truly were? Why not keep faking it to get more out of him? Did you take whatever you needed in the short period he kept you there? Those few little hours…
You remained silent, looking into his eyes as you struggled in his grasp slightly. Your right hand flew to the wrist holding the back of your head, which only made him pull on your hair once more, making you wince. It was another warning, another chance for you to push him away.
But you didn’t.
His right hand lifted up to reveal that it was slowly being covered in small embers, not yet flames, and he pressed it on your back. Your eyes widened when you felt heat engulf your back, the scent of burning fabric filling your nostrils. You winced when the burning turned a bit painful, his eyes not leaving your face. 
He was still scowling at you, his eyes traveling to your exposed neck as his hand kept moving on your back, making small holes in it, the embers spreading slightly. He knew he was burning you, but it doesn’t compare to what you did to him. You will heal from these superficial burns.
You wanted to tell him to hurry up, but you knew that you weren’t the one with control right now, so you had to be careful with your words. You yelped when his hand started moving to your front, leaving embers fluttering over the black satin. It was burning easily, the material too thin, too flimsy. 
His eyes caught onto yours once more. You were breathing heavily, waiting for his next move. He clenched his jaw as the memories of those picnics filled his head. Those movie nights. Those nights when you told him about your family. You showed him those pictures that were on your wall that you probably faked. Those pictures were all fake.
His fist grabbed onto the front of your dress and pulled on it as he grunted from the force. Your dress ripped easily away from your body thanks to the holes that were burned on your back and side. Your body will probably have scarring, burnt marks, or red spots, but you couldn’t help the excitement in your body when he held your torn dress in his hand.
His eyes turned to it for a second and then back at you. You saw how they glowed in a deep yellow and his hand engulfed into flames, your dress catching on fire and burning into ashes in three seconds. His eyes returned to their natural color as his hand dropped, and then he could finally take a look at your half-naked form. 
You took the opportunity of his distraction to push him away, making him rip his hand off your hair, looking at you with surprise and anger. You were breathing heavily in just your bra and thong, a matching black set, looking at him, the anger in you also coming out to light after how he treated you. 
Anger, but no hatred. Not from your side… nor his.
So you took a sharp intake of breath as you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you slammed your lips against his, connecting your chest to his. He groaned at the kiss, his arms immediately wrapping around your frame, his lips moving against yours instantly, like a starved man. Weeks of wanting this with you, dreaming of having you, but he never thought it would be like this.
You bit his bottom lip, yanking a bit on it with your teeth, provoking a protest on his part but you silenced it by sliding your tongue into his mouth. You moaned in satisfaction as his right hand slid downwards, grabbing onto your ass cheek and squeezing tight. You responded by raising your leg up, thigh against his hip, while his hand moved, leaving your behind to graze your thigh, gripping it tightly to hold you in place.
His hips pressed against your core, earning him a moan from you. You felt his buckle against your clothed cunt as well as his hardness as he rutted himself on you, moaning into your mouth. One of your hands went towards his hair, running your fingers through it and then you gripped tightly, pulling his head backwards and away from the kiss. He hissed at the action, his eyes connecting with your defiant ones.
“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” Your voice came out through your teeth, a taunt. He gave a tilt of his head as if asking if you were really defying him right now. You could almost see the smoke coming out of his nostrils as he huffed in anger, his hands flying to the back of your thighs, pushing you upwards with his strength, making you yelp slightly at the sudden movement.
Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist so you wouldn’t fall, but then your back was slammed against the window, with such force that you were amused by how strong the glass was. You whimpered at the coldness against your naked back and ass, eyes glaring back at him.
“You think you have the right to talk back to me right now?” One of his hands left your thigh so it could get between the two of you. His lips reconnected to yours before you could even reply back to him, and you heard how he started undoing his buckle, that ‘F4’ shaped stupid belt he had.
You felt him move underneath you and you heard the rustling of clothes and then something pressing against your wet thong, making you whimper into the kiss. You pulled away to look down in between the two of you, and he had pulled his pants and underwear mid-thighs, enough to let his cock free, which was now pressing against you.
He got hold of the elastic of your thong, pinching it between his thumb and index finger, pulling it away from your body. You then saw a tiny and quick flame set fire and it quickly snapped the elastic apart, making your thong drop from your cunt, left to dangle thanks to the scraps still holding onto your other thigh. 
You were exposed to him now, and then he pressed himself against your aching clit, rutting his hips against yours, causing a beautiful friction that left you moaning, throwing your head back, thumping against the glass.
He groaned as he looked at your exposed neck, moving forward so he could bite on the side of it, making you wince as your clit kept being hit with the ridge of his dick. It was hot. Literally hot. Not even warm temperature, it was burning and you wondered how that would feel inside of you. 
He was coating his cock with your wetness, and he couldn’t be bothered with foreplay, he didn’t care for it, and you didn’t either, not that you needed it. You’ve been wet the moment he gripped your hair. So he pulled his hips back, letting the tip of his cock kiss your clit for a brief second before it caught on your entrance.
A voiceless moan got caught on your throat, where his teeth still remained, as he slowly pushed inside and– it was a perfect burn and stretch. He was perfect as he seethed himself inside, your walls fluttering in need around him as his mouth unlatched from your throat in order to look at how your face contorted at each inch of him.
“Good. That shut you up.” He held back the groans as he watched how your eyes were wide, looking in between the two of you now, seeing how his cock was disappearing inside of you. He wanted to hate you. He wished he could. It wasn’t fair that even now all he could think about was you, even if it wasn’t like before.
He cracked his neck as he felt his control slipping away, afraid of letting his flames burst out without his intention. He slammed his hand on the glass, right next to your head, as his left one gripped your thigh tightly and he struck his hips forward, bottoming out inside of you in one forceful thrust. 
You gasped as your eyes met his. He was deliciously deep. There was a little bit of discomfort due to not having any prep but it was worth it. He was breathing heavily as he looked at you and your eyes danced with his in uncertainty, in rage, in sadness, in confusion. He was letting you adjust, or maybe he was just catching his breath, either way, you didn’t think you deserved it.
“You’re gonna cum already Johnny boy?” He gave you a glare, which only made you smirk at him. You didn’t deserve the kindness, at least not from him. He started pulling out of you, only to roughly slam back in, causing you to choke on your own moan. You felt it in your throat almost. And then, he set the bruising pace. No mercy, slamming into you like a wild man.
The glass behind you shook, the metal hinges making loud sounds as he kept smashing his hips against yours over and over again, not leaving a single second for conscious thought, not leaving a single second for even a memory to slip through the both of you. All he wanted was to pour his anger out, all he needed was to show you how you made him feel then and how you made him feel now.
The sound of skin slapping echoed through the now empty apartment, an apartment where he spent a few nights with your company. He growled at the memory, his hips picking up a pace as your moans raised in pitch, your fingers digging into his shoulders, scratching on him while your eyes filled with tears. Was it pleasure? He didn’t know.
“Not acting so smartass now, huh?” You choked out a moan as you tried to speak but he was piercing you right where you needed. Your g-spot was being abused at each sharp thrust of his. Punch. Punch. Punch.
You felt your body heating up, more than any other time you slept with someone, feeling as if you were sweating more than you should and you knew it was him. You knew he was raising the temperature of his body, including the one in the entire room. Your forehead was sweaty, your neck, your chest that was still covered in your bra that you now need to rip off because it was just too fucking hot.
You lowered a hand and pressed it against the glass, right next to you, and you grunted as you pushed against it, forcing him to stumble backwards. He fell to the ground, holding onto you, his back hitting the floor, his dick never slipping out of you as you landed on him, which caused you to choke. 
You were breathing heavily as you looked down at him, who only winced slightly at the sudden hit on his ass and back. Your hands were now on his chest, still covered with his suit. You stared at the number 4 logo, glaring at it, and then your eyes found his. He was looking at you now with furrowed brows, sad instead of angry ones. 
You didn’t deserve those.
Your hands went towards your back, unclasping your bra off and ripping it off your body. A sigh of relief escapes you as the air hits the sweat that’s on your tits. Your hips started circling against him, slowly, and he threw his head back as his hands gripped your hips, his digits digging into your skin. 
Your belly coiled as you started rising yourself up and then slam back down again, knees pressing against the hard floor, knowing you will be bruised tomorrow, but you could give two shits about that right now. His hands traveled upwards, grabbing onto your breasts and everywhere he touched just left a lingering feeling of warmth, of burning. 
You threw your head back as his fingers pinched your nipples, making your belly coil as you slammed yourself down again and circled your hips against him, making the tip of his cock rub against your g-spot repeatedly. He moaned your name in pleasure, the first time he did during the night and you looked down at him.
“You sure that’s my name?” And his eyes clashed with yours in new found anger, sitting up as his left hand gripped your waist, while the rest remained on your hip. His face came close to yours as his words became venomous.
“I wonder how many names you had to come up with. With how many you had to whore yourself to in order to get information for your boss. Whoever that might be.” And him calling you a slut was not something you expected. You didn’t want him to think that. You became angry. Not at him, but yet, you had to direct it towards someone.
So you slapped him. 
His head was turned with wide eyes and you had to pretend you weren’t shocked at your own actions. You looked at your hand and then back at him, opening your mouth to say something but as he slowly turned to face you again, you knew you had fucked up. You saved yourself by talking once more.
“I didn’t jump your bones. You jumped mine, back in your room. Who’s the actual whore here, Johnny?” And you let him have the small memory of that innocent kiss he gave you. Of that kiss that made him so happy you had reciprocated, only for that memory to be shattered, tainted. His glare turned murderous as he looked at you. 
You started feeling the areas he was grabbing you at become hotter and hotter. Your breathing became heavy in nervousness as your head turned to look at his hands which were becoming redder by the second. He laid back down and pushed his hips up, making you raise yourself a bit on your knees and before you could say something, he started slamming himself inside of you once more.
Your mind became mush in an instant, your moans choking up your voice as he hit your insides over and over again, the slapping of skin loud and quick. Your belly started turning, the elastic band about to snap as your hands dug into his chest. And then, you screamed as pain took you out of your pleasure palace.
The smell of burning filled the room, very slightly, faint, but still there. You looked down at where he was holding you, and his hands were now almost as red bright as metal against fire. He didn’t stop his pounding either, growling as he looked at you with his yellow irises, filled with flames.
“This is your reminder of who you betrayed. For you to remember me.” 
Tears fell down your cheeks as you felt the pain of your skin being burnt, of being branded by him, and then your climax hit you out of nowhere. You choked out a whimper, a cry of his name as your walls tightened around him, pulsating. His balls tightened with the need for his own release, and he cooled his hands once more but kept them in place on your body.
He groaned loudly at your tightness and he looked at how tears fell down your face as well as the drool that had pooled in the corner of your mouth. He cursed under his breath and slammed his hips upwards one more time, completely seething himself inside as his cum filled your insides and you felt the heat of it. You could feel it. 
He was breathing heavily as he lowered his hips, his hands keeping you in place so you wouldn’t lower on him. He hissed as he pulled out of you, his cum already dripping down from your hole, falling on the red tip of his cock. Your eyes looked down at his hands as they slowly parted from your skin, a squelching sound following after.
You were bleeding in some places, layers of your skin successfully burnt with his handprints. They were hurting you, they were very painful, and you… you couldn’t be mad at him for them. Your eyes connected to his as he lay there looking at his own hands, trembling at the sight.
Pieces of your burnt skin were stuck to his hands, on his palms. He lost control. He didn’t want to hurt you like this. You saw the guilt that displayed on his face and you raised your hand, wanting to touch him and tell him–
“Shit…” You winced before you could say anything else. He snapped out of his thoughts and sat up, pushing you to sit on the floor next to him. Without another word, he got up and you looked as he pulled his pants back up and buckled his belt once more. 
“I guess we’ll see each other again now that you’ve entered the headquarters.” He was asleep while you were there. He was sure you took something, and it was just a matter of time for you to strike the building or him. He walked towards the sliding doors, and you moved on your place, wanting to go after him, but the sharp pain of the burns made you stay put.
“Johnny… wait.” Your voice was choked, but he turned around to face you again. You felt the room becoming cooler, and you didn’t want it to be that temperature… but it had to do for now. “My name… I didn’t lie about my name.” 
His eyebrow twitched in confusion at that. Should he believe you? Should he trust you on that one? He didn’t know, he didn’t want to find out, he didn’t want to see you again, but he knew that one was inevitable. He turned away from you and you saw how his whole body turned into flames and flew out of the balcony, leaving you bruised, branded and alone.
In an empty, cold, room.
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“It’s been a while since your last report, Chameleon.” 
The stupid nickname your boss gave you. You had the ability to infiltrate through people without being spotted. It wasn’t a superpower, just good hiding. 
“Got a little bit busy Boss.” Your voice was flat as you looked at how the man turned to look at you. So many people are afraid of this man, but there was something about Doctor Doom that just made you want to laugh.
“I hope that ‘bit busy’ was to get the information we need.” His voice was threatening, menacing as he looked at you through the screen. You gave him a sharp nod.
“Yes, I was planning my next encounter with Storm.” At your report, he gave a small nod of approval. You felt your bandages becoming sticky underneath your oversized sweater. It was about time to change them again, so you had to make this a quick call.
“I see. So, you still didn’t get into the headquarters then?” And you wanted to smile at his question. You wanted to show him how fucked he was, but you held yourself back because you had another plan in action, one that doesn’t include a boss.
“No sir. I require more time to create a bond with him.” He gave a small nod as his sharp tone filled the speakers.
“Get it done.” And the call ended abruptly.
You stared at the black screen, a smile appearing on your face as you slowly got up from the couch, walking towards the windows that were all blacked out. You pressed a button that was on the side and the windows returned to be transparent, showing the city lights in the night.
But what caught your attention was the orange gleam that was far away, still, floating, as if looking your way. You knew it was him. He has been waiting for you to turn the windows transparent once again. You had blacked out the apartment from his view for a whole week. You had refurbished it again, even hung up a real picture this time, the only one in the room.
One of you and him. One that you took at a picnic you had planned for the both of you. One that wasn’t part of the plan. Like the theater. Like the nights spent in this fake apartment. Like the drinks spent on a terrace. But he didn’t know that. 
And then you saw him fly away, making your heart plummet to the floor. You winced as you turned to walk towards your kitchen, ready to take care of your wounds. Of his markings. Of his handprints that will permanently stay on your skin. 
It was funny. First, you betrayed Johnny, and now you are betraying your boss, someone who might rip you apart the moment he finds out you’ve been lying. Yet, you are more scared of losing the only fire that made you feel alive after a long while. 
You’ll keep that flame alive. You have to. 
You’ll make sure it does.
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end
a/n: um, yeah, the thot was the burning of clothes, like, how was i supposed to do that one with just like, a normal person with no superpowers... with a lighter? not sexy enough.
also, handprints.
ta-ta
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 10 months ago
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Realizations
Dad!Simon Ghost Riley x Wife!Reader
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Thank you guys so much for 1k, it means the whole world for me because now once did I expect to ever have my page grown this big and not once had I imagined that I would make these many friends here who happened to be so sweet. Also to @connorsui who has been most definitely been waiting the answer to this.
So in honor of 1k, I wrote this long awaited backstory for Ghost and Lovie (Ghostie's parents) that I hope you guys will enjoy since it so happens that our beloved @ave661 has posted another Dad!Ghost render. (Credits to her again for the renders in this post <3) (Sweetie, I love you but that tag on Soap with this render was unnecessary 😭🫶)
To the people who congratulated me, through replies, likes and reblogs, I owe y'all a fat kiss. Mwahhh <333
My CoD Masterlist
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @thesnowurzikdjinn @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @trepaika @starryylies @demidemon09
Warnings/Disclaimers: Stalking (not by Simon), Typical mentions of CoD violence?, Mentions of Simon's past abuse, Creepy guy?? (Not Simon), Mentions of violent and a bit gory descriptions on what wanted to do to the stalker, This is not proofread yet.
With the words of my mother and in true reputation style, Are you ready for it?
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I think I need to say this on my account again, English is NOT my first language and all copyrights regarding the plot and some characters within the storyline belong to me. Edit: please help me y'all, I'm losing so much relevance in the span of less than a month, my recent works have gotten nothing and I'm scared that this post proves that. I think I've learned my lesson never to take breaks ever again 😭
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Simon never imagined himself in this predicament, always thinking that he'd be out there somewhere, more likely drowning himself in a mission. Not even a home, he thought that if it hadn't for your persuasiveness to interact with him back then then he'd still be back in that shitty apartment complex.
Simon placed his duffle bag on the wood of the porch, the jingling of his keys while he looked for the correct one. He tried his best to make as little noise as possible, it was passed midnight, the last thing he would want was to disturb his wife and daughter from resting.
Hauling the duffle bag in and throwing it on the couch, Simon opt to see what his girls were up to. The giggling and commotion making him smile, you both were supposed to be asleep by now but you were unable to put her to rest because she's just too hyper, so that left you to entertain her by tossing her up and catching her.
"Dada..!" A squeal from the room came, the little one snapping her head to the opening of the door making you look as well, Simon took a peek from the half-way opened door.
Adorable little thing clapping her hands together, pleased that her dad is home while sitting on her mom. She got off, crawling near the edge of the bed with no sense of danger, fortunate for her that her dad is quick with catching her before you could.
You took a deep breath from the shock, looking at your husband and smiling sweetly at him. He asked you not to get off the bed as you were about to, laying next to you he snakes his arm underneath you on your waist and pulls you in.
"I missed my girls.." He said, voice deep and laced with exhaustion, despite that his hold and gaze was the warmest it could be.
"We missed you too Si, so much." You mumbled as your eyes flutter shut to enjoy his touch. You opened them to the sound of a kiss, he kissed the little one's forehead then yours.
Sometimes you vaguely remember the first time he and you met, how it even came to be, this life of domesticity. You, him and your little girl, family is a heavy word for Simon but it was just perfect. This was the family he wanted, the family that he thought he didn't deserve and never would have.
The feeling of coming home to all this started because you were so forgetful, who knew that would be the skill that brought you to him..?
• ──── ✦ ──── •
He emptied his pockets, to the lieutenant's dismay, the box of cigarettes only had one stick left. Since he was going out to smoke it anyway, he might as well get another box from the convenience store nearby. He took his keys from the kitchen counter and headed out, hearing a little commotion that peeked his interest.
Simon never paid much mind to whatever was going on within his apartment building despite the many gossips that were present within the building and the renters. So it happens that the old lady next to his place mentions how they'll be a new tenant in the other apartment next to his.
'Thank God' Simon thought, not that he was particularly religious but he'd been hoping for the longest time for the former renter to leave because let's be honest, who wants to live next to a frat boy with no sense of shame or consideration given that walls are thin? Little did he know he'd be blessed with the next one..
"Oh- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to.." Simon hears a voice from a little below him, he'd only register what had happened after the fact. Poor girl carrying this box bumped into him a little too hard, so much so that she stumbled back a bit.
You stared up to the 6'4 man blinking, he only shrugged it off to which you smiled to. You tried to make small talk since you were new and it wouldn't hurt to at least know one person right? After all, you were trying to step out a bit of your comfort zone.
"Hi.. I'm [Name].." He only stared at you for a while and replied, "Simon.." you gave him a warm smile before nodding and continuing to bring the boxes into your new apartment while your new neighbor entered the elevator.
You cut the boxes open to start unpacking, a few minutes in and you decided to go on a short break, you rummaged through the small box of food only to find that the recently bought box of tea was empty. You sighed at this, humming as you remembered the convenience store you passed by earlier on the way to the apartment.
Taking your keys and locking the door behind you, you made your way out the complex and walked a few blocks, you only started to notice how late it was with the streetlights coming on even though the sun is only about to set. That's something to get used to, hmm?
The cool breeze hits your skin as you enter, scent of faint instant coffee and many other kinds of foods and products made themselves known. You walked around for a while, checking on what other things you might need but then you tried to remind yourself that you were saving up and on a budget so you took a box of tea and walked up to the register.
You heard footsteps behind you falling in line, after placing the box on the counter, you searched your pockets for your wallet.
'Shit..!' you cursed yourself out mentally trying not to panic as Simon basically watches you frantically patting your pockets, you left your wallet back at the apartment. "You left your wallet-" Simon stated the obvious, "I'll cover it.." there wasn't even a time to argue with him, he just stepped next to you and placed the pack of cigarettes.
"I'll pay you back as soon as we get back to the apartment" You insisted to which Simon only shrugged and declined, it's just a box of tea and it's not like it'll make him go bankrupt, besides he liked your taste, the one you got happened to be his favorite brand.
Since you were headed in the same place anyway, you and Simon walked back together side by side, however one thing you did find odd was when he gently took you wrist and pulled you inward next to him, he was the one now closest to the road.
The walk back was silent, a comfortable silence. A few days after that encounter, you made sure to make an effort for him to know that you appreciated his gesture back at the convenience store. The lieutenant was alarmed by the knock on his door, opening it to find no person but a tupperware filled with buttery shortbread cookies.
He smiled at how tiny the plastic container looked in his hands, how he noticed the note attached "Thanks for the tea, this isn't that special but I hope you like it -[Name]" and the Sanrio themed stickers stuck onto the lid and on the top part of the tiny note. You ran out of sticky notes..
Simon found himself snacking on those cookies later on, oddly enough, they reminded him of his mom.. how she used to love baking back then, it was her way of escape whenever Simon's "father" wasn't home, as well as gardening.
For the first time in a while Simon "Ghost" Riley let out a smile that wasn't smug or a smirk but a genuine smile, one that had warmth to it, one that no matter how hard his mind tried to surppress it, his body refused to.
It didn't take long for you and Simon to get to know each other a bit, little by little it seemed like you two were becoming like friends rather than just neighbors. Let's be honest, who just randomly gives their neighbors weekly baked goods for the sole reason of "just because they wanted to"?
You found yourself always looking forward to the Friday nights chilling with him at the rooftop, mugs with hot tea on hand while he smoked and you read.
Listening to his stupid jokes and remarks that slowly turn into deep conversations and life things. Simon was just... far more open than he's ever been, sure he's talked about his day before to his comrades but never like this, not in a way where he's pouring his heart out, letting you in on how he feels about certain things.
He just got back from a mission, a rough one to be exact. Shoulders slumped from exhaustion as he walked the streets near the apartment complex, no space for his bike so he had to leave it somewhere private while he fidgeted with it's keys.
Simon swore that he almost jumped out of his own body, first instinct being to push you off but he recognized you. He gave you a questioning look, hands were shaking as you so desperately linked you arm around his.
"Hmm?" He hummed, hearing you mumbling something but it was incoherent to his ears.
"Behind us.. please Si, help..." Come to think if it, you never knew when Simon turned into Si. Best believe he knew and still remembers when perfectly.. not the time, there's a serious threat, he didn't look. He didn't need to, guessing by the heavy footsteps, some creep decided to follow you at this hour.
He slowly slipped his arm away from your grip and snaked it around your waist, pulling you in closer to his side while the two of you continued treading closer to the complex. You closed your eyes for a few seconds at a time hoping it would end.
• ──── ✦ A few days later ✦ ──── •
Knocking, frantic knocking was what Simon heard at his door. He wasn't expecting anyone, so why the sudden visit? He opened the door and saw you, Simon knew something was off from the look on your face, you looked pale as if you were sick to your stomach while trying so desperately to catch your breath.
"Can I please come in.. Simon..?" You asked in between breaths. You looked around you, especially behind you, body shivering a bit. He took notice of this and had no hesitation, he pulled you in by your arm. His grip firm but gentle, Simon closed the door behind him.
"Remember that guy who was creeping around when I asked for your help..?" You tried to explain but Simon already knew the moment your mouth opened. You had a stalker.. it was best to call the cops on shit like this.
Simon did his best even though not knowing much about how to comfort someone, he did well in making you feel safe without having to tell you that he'll do so, you just know it in your gut that he'd protect you even if it's just now.
Your breath picked up, slowly backing away from the door as you heard footsteps, clenching your fists and hoping that he didn't see you enter Simon's door. Simon wrapped his arms around you, keeping you in place and from further backing away from the door.
You felt his palm drag up and down your back, it was extremely warm, it stopped for a while. His arm wrapped around your waist, other hand in your hair pushing your head down a bit so it was buried in his chest while you gripped his shirt. Simon felt your trembling body against him slowly relax.
"Deep breaths, angel.." The nickname he whispered would've made you smile under any other circumstance but not right now, you needed to calm your nerves before you panic and make an impulsive decision that could hurt yourself. Like instructed, you followed along Simon's demonstration, pressing his forehead onto yours maybe just a bit too intimately.
You winced at the loud sound of banging on the door, you knew it too well. Simon shoved the handle of his combat knife in your hand, he told you that if anything were to happen, protect yourself with it.
As soon as the Lieutenant swung the door open, you could hear punches, things knocking over and among other things, your stalker's voice.
You'd never forget that, how pitchy it was. Nails on the chalkboard was the best way to describe it, how the man was cackling almost made you annoyed. Simon called on security and the man was dealt with, you came out from hiding and saw both fear and anger in Simon's eyes.
You would never know how much he wanted to tear that man's heart after skinning him alive for even bringing fear into your eyes.
Simon "I care too much for someone I just met" Riley finally saw how his knuckles and fingernails were caked with blood, went off to go wash it and himself.
Getting back to you after half an hour, you reached out for him only for him to withdraw, you looked at him confused and he looks at you with pure guilt..
Your eyes widened in realization, "Oh Simon.. I'm not scared.." you smiled at him. He reached out a shaky hand to you, hesitating before closing his hand back.
You took his hand in yours, bringing it up to your lips and giving it a small kiss, hoping it calms his nerves. Well it did the opposite, it even more overwhelming for him having you kiss his palm while you look up at him, watching you nudge your face into his palm so invitingly.
The way your lashes just sat perfectly atop your cheeks while you slowly blinked up at him. Pressing the same scarred and calloused hands that almost killed a man that night on your face and rubbing the back with you thumb.
Simon had never felt that much guilt before for hurting someone, only after he saw the look in your eyes, which in turn were not something he caused. For the first time in his life too, Simon was comforted by something or rather someone immensely..
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daydreaming-nerd · 5 months ago
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I’ll Crawl Home To Her (Azriel x Reader) 
AN: This was supposed to be based off But Daddy I Love Him but it morphed into something else but I'm kinda happy about it.
Summary: The story of how the princess of Velaris and the shadowsinger came to be.
Warnings: blood, injury, dickhead dads, bit of smut but it's not too descriptive (It's for the plot), angst, fluffy ending.
Word count: 8053
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As a princess I was told that “hate” is a very strong word. Consequently, there weren’t a lot of things that I hated. For example, I greatly disliked when my tea came with too much milk, and I absolutely despised corsets. But if there was one thing I hated, and I mean truly hated, it was my father. 
If it wasn’t for the way he treated my mother and older brother then it would be the way he treated me. How he kept me from my beloved, my brother's best friend, the shadowsinger, my Azriel.  
Azriel had been mine long before my father ever knew about it. When I grew to be 207 my mother finally convinced my father to let me go to Windhaven with her to visit Rhys. I hadn’t seen my brother in years, as he had begun training with the Illyrians. 
He wrote me letters of course, detailing friends and enemies he made along the way. Two of which stood out to me, Cassian and Azriel. However these letters never made up for him in the flesh, which is why during my first trip to Windhaven I had never been so excited. To this day I still remember it…
The winter wind stung my cheeks as snow clung to the furs of my cloak. It was as if no matter how many layers I wore the wind found its way to barrel through and nip at my skin. 
I found myself walking along the edge of the camp, where the light of the fires couldn't reach me and only the moon gave me the ability to see. When my mother and I arrived at the little cabin Rhys was not there, after speaking to Devlon we found he was on assignment and would be home soon. 
After a few hours in the cabin I began to feel claustrophobic, so I took a walk around the heavily wooded area. There was something magic about the first snow of the season. The way the snow covered the ground and crunched under my boots. White capped trees that looked like they were frosted by the gods, and the still silence that came from the insulation the blanket of white provided.  
“It’s a little cold out don’t you-” a voice crooned behind me and stopped abruptly as I turned to face him. 
Standing frozen just a few feet from me was an Illyrian male with his mouth agape at the sight of me. He was large, his wings the biggest I had ever seen. Inky black hair framed his carved face as his hazel eyes frozen in shock as if he had just seen a ghost. 
“Forgive me,” he said, shaking his head a bit, as if to clear the fog from his mind. “It’s just that I don’t see many beautiful things up here, you startled me.” 
My cheeks flush and I pray he thinks it's from the cold and not the butterflies in my stomach. 
“I find that hard to believe when this is your view,” I smile, gesturing to the snow valley below us. “There’s nothing more beautiful than the first snowfall of the year.”
Footsteps crunch behind me as he comes up on my right, “Perhaps, but it pales in comparison to you,” he smirks and this time I know he can tell he’s the reason my cheeks are pink. “Might I have the honor of knowing your name?” 
I turn to meet his gaze once more but before I can answer back I hear a shout coming from far away. 
“Y/N!�� my brother shouts charging towards me. 
“Rhys!” I call back running into his embrace. 
He lets out a groan as I leap into his arms, a pile of furs and wool as I pull him into me. The scent of sea salt and citrus filling my nose, the warmth of him seeping through my clothes. 
“Ahh little sister I’ve missed you,” Rhys says, setting me down to get a good look at me. 
“Little sister?” called the male behind me, his snow crunching footsteps coming towards Rhysand and I’s side. 
“It seems you’ve already met her, this is my little sister,  y/n.”Rhys beams, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Y/n this is my very good friend, Azriel.” 
“Azriel,” I blink, holding out my hand for the shadowsinger to shake. How had I not realized? Rhysand’s letters spoke of his shadowsinger friend, now that I looked at him, and I mean really looked at him, I could see the dark matter swirling around him. 
“Princess,” he says, bowing his head and pressing a kiss to my hand. “It is an honor to meet you. You’ll have to forgive my previous informality, I didn’t know who you were.” 
Rhysand let out a hearty laugh behind me, “Azriel my friend there is no need for such formalities, in fact my sister detests them.” he smiles. 
“It’s true, you can just call me y/n, I’m sure that we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the years to come.” I smile hoping I was speaking the truth into existence. 
“Come, mother has made dinner for all of us and you have yet to meet Cassian,” Rhys said enthusiastically, throwing an arm over my shoulder. 
From that day forward I found myself spending more and more time at Windhaven, in hopes of seeing Azriel. Sometimes I would see him for only a minute or so, other times he would be able to stay and have dinner with my mother, myself and of course Rhys and Cass. 
Those were always my favorite nights when he and I would share stolen glances across the table. Sometimes we might brush hands reaching for the carafe of wine, other times I would feel his boot brush my ankle under the table. Both of us danced around the other like flickering flames. 
It wasn’t until a few years later when all three of them conquered the blood rite that Azriel and I were finally able to admit our feelings for one another…
We stood behind one of the many rows of cabins, the sound of laughing warriors celebrating their victories or mourning their losses ran through the camp. Before he even spoke I knew why he asked me to meet him back here, I could feel the tension between us both. 
“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care about you. I’m tired of saying “nothing” whenever Rhys and Cassian ask me what’s on my mind. I’m tired of trying to hide that everytime I come back to camp that I’m looking for you and hoping I can see you for just one second. I’m tired of pretending I don’t love you,” Azriel confesses, caging me against the back wall of a cabin. 
“Azriel I-” I begin but he cuts me off.
“When we were on the mountain, there was a moment where there was a dagger to my throat and I thought I was going to die. I thought I would leave this world without telling you how much I loved you. If it wasn’t for Cassian that would’ve been the case. I won’t make the same mistakes twice,” he finished. 
“Azriel, I love you too,” I shuddered a sigh, aware of how close he was to me. 
The second the words left my mouth he was on me, large hands encircling my waist as I felt every inch of his body pressed against mine. His breath was hot on my face, contrasting the bitter cold of the night air.  
“Can I kiss you?” he breathed,  lips mere inches from mine. 
“Please,” I begged, but once again the word hung in the air for mere seconds before his mouth was on mine. 
Every part of it felt so right. His hands on my waist, my fingers in his hair, his lips on mine claiming me in a way that made my head spin. My arms pulled him as close as possible, needing to feel him, smell that scent of rain, leather and whatever intoxicating cologne he was wearing.  I was so drunk on him that I was shaken when I heard a hearty laugh ring out through the camp. 
I pulled back immediately realizing what was happening, “Oh my gods, we can’t do this here, my brother he-” 
“Shhh, shhh,” he cooed, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. “I talked to Rhys about it, I have his blessing to court you. He took it rather well, he actually seemed excited.” Azriel laughed, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he held me closer, his body blocking the wind from seeping into my clothes. 
“Oh Azriel,” I smile, kissing him hard as I feel him lifting me into the air, my head spinning just as fast as he spun me. 
We spent the rest of that night lying on a blanket in a field away from the world. The sound of distant celebrations making us laugh every now and then. At some point I could’ve sworn I heard Cassian singing a tale of an old drunk warrior.
I had tried to tell Azriel that he should join his brothers in their celebration but he insisted that he would much rather spend his few moments of peace with me. It was one of the best nights of my life. 
Our relationship was kept secret from everyone but Rhys and Cassian. Even my mother, who always accompanied me to Windhaven, was kept in the dark. No one with close ties to my father could know. That being said, it was hard for Azriel and I to find quiet moments together. 
Most of the time we met in the woods behind camp. Azriel would go away and bring me little trinkets, pretty rocks and feathers he found while in the mountains. In the spring he always came with a freshly picked bouquet of wildflowers. We always ended up making out and getting carried away, on more than one occasion I tried to take things further but he never let me. 
“I won’t have the first time I bed you in the woods. You’re a princess, you deserve a soft bed to be worshiped on.” 
Was what he always said to me. While I appreciated the sentiment, I couldn’t help but wish for more. 
It wasn’t until a few months later that I finally saw an opening. Father and mother were going to be at a meeting in the Winter Court, leaving Velaris in the care of Rhys. More importantly the cabin at Windhaven would be empty. That night was truly the best night of my life.
My back hits the warm sheets below me as Azriel looks at my bare body with hungry eyes. I had never been with a male before, my father and mother dead set on having me intact for whatever husband they shackled me to. But Azriel would be my husband, even if he wasn’t noble or the son of a High Lord he was mine, and I was his. I didn’t care how many rules I had to break to have him. 
“My beautiful, beautiful princess,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to my neck. 
His hands wander the expanse of my bare skin, both warming and leaving goosebumps wherever they trail. I arch my back into him, needing more, needing the very essence of him branded into me. 
“Azriel I need more,” I breathe tugging on the ends of his hair. 
He had already stripped me bare and kissed every square inch of me before falling to his knees and feasting on me like I was his last meal. I had read about such sinful touches before, dreamt about experiencing those sensations with him at night. None of it compared to the real thing. 
“Are you sure about this?” He asks me once more, brushing the hair from my face. 
“I’m sure, I want it to be you,” I nod running my hands through his hair again. 
The wild twinkle in his eyes was enough to make my toes curl as he smiled at me, “I promise to be gentle, to make you feel good,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my lips. 
“I trust you Az,” I nod and his lips kick up again at his nickname. 
I feel him nudge and my entrance and my breath hitches as he inches himself inside. The stretch was painful, but the sting faded as he peppered kisses all over my face, whispering sweet nothings to me.
“Shh you’re doing so well princess…”
“You’re so beautiful…” 
“Can you feel me? Can you feel us?” 
“I love you…” 
I must’ve seen stars a million times that night. His gentle nature only made me fall deeper in love with him. It wasn’t the brutal fucking I had heard about in taverns and from drunk men at balls. He had taken his time, and been even more gentle than he had promised me. 
We made love a dozen times that night. Kissed and touched and worshiped until I fell asleep, bathed and warm in his arms.
The next morning was hard to face. Knowing we had to leave the cabin and act as if we didn’t spend the entire night exchanging souls, and tangled in eachothers arms. 
Az especially was on edge, so much so that when a younger male offered to tie my boot for me Azriel marched over and pushed him into the mud before pulling my foot onto his bent knee and tying it himself. 
Of course I yelled at him for being an Illyrian baby while Rhys and Cassian laughed and poked fun at their friend. Azriel just huffed and shot a warning glance at the poor male who had tried to tie my boot. 
From there on out we spent every possible moment together. I would tell my father that I was visiting friends in other courts just so I could see Azriel, which wasn’t often. As the war between humans and fae grew more iminanent I saw less and less of the shadowsinger. Our meetings became more fervent, and well…passionate. We became careless and it’s what ended up tearing him away from me for good.  
My back was pressed against the cabin wall, my hands pinned by my head as Azriel’s lips consumed mine. We had no longer than an hour together before he would be set back to scout for Hybern’s troops, but we intended to make the most of it. 
“I missed you,” he breathed into my neck. 
“I missed you too, two weeks is too long,” I murmured, breathing in his scent. He always left me one of his many shirts to sleep in but it never did compare to the real thing. 
“I don’t have much time, they’re sending me to the border to scout for Hybern’s troops,” he says in between kisses. 
Scarred hands drift over my waist and graze my bum as I feel him collecting fist fulls of my skirt. Before my dress can be pushed up much further than my knees the door to the cabin barges open, startling both of us. Azriel  placed his hand on one of the daggers strapped to his side, but not even he could defend me from who stepped through the threshold. 
“What the hells is going on here?” My father’s voice boomed from the doorway, the cold air from outside seeping into the place that was once our own. 
I peek out from behind Azriel’s shoulder to find not only my father but Lord Devlon standing before us. My fathers eyes locked on mine, and white hot fear seared my nerves. 
“What are you doing with my daughter?!” My father roared, his power slamming Azriel aside. 
“Father no!” I scream, clinging to his arm to interrupt his antics. 
Devlon screamed for backup to come as Azriel’s feet hit the floor again. The commotion outside beginning to stir. 
“My lord, I-” Azriel starts to explain but my father cuts him off. 
“You will not speak unless spoken to, you bastard born brute!” my father screams as Devlon’s men come to detain the Shadowsinger. 
“Father stop it! He didn’t take advantage of me, we’ve been seeing each other.” I plead with my father as tears start to well up in my eyes. 
“What?!” he scoffed, looking at me like I was a common whore. “You are promised to one of the sons of Spring and yet you soil yourself with filth of his kind?” 
“He’s not filth. He’s Rhys’ friend, and he’s good, brave and kind.” I beseech him as I hear Azriel struggle against the men who have him bound.
My father takes a deep breath and turns his gaze from me. The sound of his boots crossing the wooden floors to stand before Azriel are the loudest most impending sound I had ever heard. He stands before my shadowsinger before raising his hand and letting his fist collide with that beautiful face I had spent so long kissing. 
My gasp reverberates through the room but Azriel doesn’t make a sound, as if he’s challenging my father, or proving his worth. 
“What should we do with him?” my father asks, not taking his eyes off Az. 
“The boy has completed the rite, we can send him to one of the battalions on the border. Perhaps the trash will take itself out,” Devlon laughs. I had known that the Lord had a chip on his shoulder for my brother and his friends. But sending him to the slaughter? 
“Father please I love him!” I cry falling to my knees before my father, grasping his hand. I would never beg my father for anything, never fall to my knees for anyone. But for this I would… for Azriel, I would die on my knees. 
Despite my pleading my fathers gaze never falters from where it is fixed on Azriel. As if he’s trying to decide if he should slit his throat now or let him die on a battlefield. Azriel’s face remains steadfast and strong, showing no signs of weakness, like he will accept whatever punishment befalls him with the grace of a warrior.
“Send him,” he says resolutely before turning away. 
“NO PLEASE!” I beseech as my father hauls me to my feets again, but my knees are giving out under me. 
“It is done,” his gruff voice says in my ear as I watch them haul Azriel to his feet. “One day you’ll thank me.” 
I watch as they pull Azriel toward the door. Dragging him unnecessarily letting his wings drape across the ground. It was all happening so fast and could be the last time I ever saw his face.
“Let me say goodbye! Please let me say goodbye!” I shouted thrashing in my fathers grasp. Needing to touch Az one last time, needing one more moment with him. 
Azriel’s eyes were frantic as he heard my screams, as he watched my father use his strength to detain me.  
“Listen! Listen!” he called trying to get me to stop my frantic blubbering, the guards pulling him out the door. “You have to be strong princess. I love you , and I will find you again, if not in this life than in the next!” he shouts as he is hauled past the threshold of the cabin. 
“Azriel!” I scream, my voice cracking under the weight of my tears. 
“I love you!” he shouts again from the outside of the cabin. 
“I love you!” I call back to him, not knowing if I’ll ever get another chance to say it. 
That was six months ago...
Since then the war had gotten more and more bloody, and unavoidable. As far as I knew Azriel was still alive. I hadn’t seen him since the night he was ripped from my arms, a night I often had nightmares about. I sent him letters whenever possible and every so often I would get one back. 
I could tell he had tried to send more, as every date on the ones that did make it through were skewed. The most recent one, dated two months ago, burned a hole in the pocket of my dress. The folds were so worn from reading  that I feared they may fall apart the next time I opened it. 
My love, 
I am alive and well, though my battalion has suffered great losses. More and more Illyrians are sent to the frontlines every day to take the place of the dead. There are times I wonder if a wide eyed recruit will ever take my place…
At night I lie in bed and dream of you lying next to me, your warmth. Or the way your hair looks sprawled in swirling over the green grass when you’re under me. The sound of your voice calling my attention. The softness of your hands. The night you came undone for me in the cabin.
 My only consolation is that when I look up at the night sky. I know you are looking at those same stars. And if what I’m doing is keeping you safe. Keeping you fed and swathed in those blue silks that drive me crazy. Then I will sleep in this tent and fight alongside my peers happily. My love is safe and warm because of me. 
I love you, and I will return to you. 
Yours eternally, 
Azriel
I fold the tattered parchment with gloved hands and tuck it securely into the pocket of my dress. The shouts of men and the clash of swords outside my tent drown out the peace I had struggled to preserve. 
Hybern’s army had marched on Velaris and while the border hadn’t been breached, my father decided it was unsafe to leave my mother and I there. My mother was sent to a camp with my father where he would watch over her, I was sent to Rhys’ camp.
 The flap of the tent is thrown open, my brother charges in wearing his leathers, his hair disheveled and a letter in hand. 
“What is it?” I stand upon seeing the worry gracing his face.    
Armies had been marching upon another camp a few miles away. If they had breached the encampment that would mean they were coming for us next. We would have just minutes to evacuate and find a safe place. 
“The men were able to hold the front lines,” he says, setting down his swords with a sigh that told me that there was still news to be revealed. 
“Then what is it?” I asked quietly, unsure of whether or not I wanted to know the truth he had to say. 
Violet eyes met my own, in them, a sorrow and worry I had not yet seen from my brother, “It’s Azriel.” he said. 
My heart stopped and my world quieted as I perched myself on a nearby chair, not trusting my legs to keep me upright. Not when my heart lay in the balance, the very reason I was alive.
“He was injured, severely. He may be dying y/n.” he said sadly, coming to stand before me. 
May be dying. Which meant he was alive, which meant there was still a chance. 
My head snaps up to him, a new fire in my gaze that no one had seen in six months. 
“Take me to him,” I ordered my brother as I stood to collect my cloak. 
“You’re asking me to take you, my sister, to the front lines. I won’t do it.” Rhys shakes his head. 
“I am going with or without you Rhys,” I say firmly, wrapping my cloak around my shoulders. 
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before picking his swords up again and strapping them to his sides. With my hood over my head and my brother's hand at my back we made our way out into the night. Once we reached the wards at the edge of the camp we winnowed to the encampment near the frontlines.  
Immediately as we walked through the rows of tents and campfires I could tell that these males had seen hell. All of them looked significantly worse than the males at the camp we had just come from. Most of them were caked in mud and blood, some were drunk on whatever filled their cups. All of them were loud and rowdy and most likely celebrating their last nights in this life.  
Rhys led me through the camp, until we arrived at a lonely tent in the center. It was large and from the outside I could practically smell Azriel. I bolted for the entrance and threw open the flaps, my heart racing, unsure if I would find him alive or dead. 
But there he was, breathing. Leaning against the back of his bed with a large bandage over his left thigh. He was awake and refreshingly himself, as if nothing was truly wrong and most importantly he was alive. 
I run to him throwing my arms around his neck, “Oh Azriel,” I coo breathing him in. 
“Y/n?” he says, his mind clearly still foggy. 
I pull back to cup his face, whoever had healed him has cleaned him up, the small cut above his eyebrow already starting to heal, “Az,” I breathe. 
His hand comes to cup my face, “How are you here? This can’t be real,” his eyes search my face as if to try and wake up from a dream. 
I place a kiss on his lips, “I’m real, I’m here,” I assure him as tears spill from my eyes. “They told me you were dying.” 
“I am well, it was a deep cut but the healers say I’ll be okay,” he assures me as his eyes continue to take me in. 
I let my eyes do the same, taking in every cut and bruise on him, even the patched holes in his wings no doubt from arrows piercing the beautiful, leathery flesh. 
“Faebane?” Rhys’ voice croons from the entrance of the tent as he watches us, it seemed that his nerves were also settled upon seeing Azriel well. 
“Yep,” Azriel said nonchalantly, but his eyes told the truth of how happy he was to see my brother, or maybe how relieved. 
“Hurts like a bitch doesn’t it?” Rhys chuckles stepping into the tent and closing the flap. 
My eyes widened at his causal tone, “How can you both be so docile about this? He could’ve died.” I exclaim, looking Azriel over once more in case I missed any lingering wounds. 
Azriel's chest rumbles with a chuckle, “Shhh my love. Everything will be alright.” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But what are you doing here? It isn’t safe.”
“The border of Velaris is almost breached,” Rhys started from behind me. “We couldn’t leave her and my mother there, it wasn’t safe.” 
“Mother is with father and I’m with Rhys. We found out you were injured and just a camp away and I asked him to take me to you.” I continue Rhys’ explanation. 
Azriel cuts Rhys a somewhat harsh look as if to say ‘why the hell would you take her somewhere so dangerous?’
“You needed to see each other,” Rhys explains further. “If anything were to happen to you and I didn’t let you two say goodbye, I would never forgive myself.”
Azriel’s shoulders softened in understanding before turning to me once more, “You have to go princess,” he said, eyes full of sorrow.
My breath hitches as I stumble back a little from where I sit next to him, “What? No, I won’t leave you,” I say resolutely.
He cups the side of my face, “Please it’s not safe here,” he eyes pleading as his voice falters. 
I go to argue but Rhys speaks up behind me, “He’s right y/n, It’s the most vulnerable camp we have.” my brother says, his words solemn. 
“I don’t care!” I exclaim turning back to brush Azriel’s hair from his face. “I’m not leaving him Rhys, we will be okay.”
Azriel’s eyes flare, “Look at me!” he shouts gesturing to his leg. “I can’t protect you here,” his voice is laced with frustration, not at my unwillingness to leave, but his inability to do the one thing he swore to always do, protect me. 
“Then I’ll die here with you!” I proclaim, fiercely. “If you cannot protect me, then you cannot protect yourself. Please Azriel, please don’t make me leave.” I cry lying down on his chest, gripping the leathers there, as if it might keep my brother from ripping me away.
“I can’t,” I sob as my words get caught in my throat. “I can’t lose you again I-” 
“Shhh,” Azriel coos, his hand stroking my hair as he pulls me into his chest. “You’ll stay here in my arms.” he assures me and I’m finally able to relax into his touch.  
“Y/n, I can’t stay here. I need to go back to my own troops and prepare them for tomorrow,” my brother said softly, not trying to persuade me to return, but to inform me of the increasing danger.
“I understand,” I say standing to say goodbye.
“I’ll come back for you tomorrow morning, before the troops march,” he said, his words tinged with sorrow. 
I take in the sight of my brother looking defeated, a look I so rarely saw on him. It broke me to realize I might never see him after this. If the enemy marched on this camp there would be no one to keep Azriel and I from the slaughter given his injury. 
“Okay,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I threw myself onto my beloved brother. 
Rhys said his goodbyes to Azriel, both of them not wanting to get too deep, say too much, for fear of manifesting defeat on both sides. When my brother exited the tent I took my spot next to Azriel on his large cot and waited for either death or the sunrise.  
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Later in the night, the raucous from outside got louder and louder disturbing my sleep. When I raised my head from Azriel’s chest I found that his eyes remained open and fixed on the tent entrance, like he was ready to challenge anyone who dared to walk through despite his inability to walk. 
“Hey,” I smiled weakly, my voice shaky from sleep. 
“Hey,” he smiled back, pushing a hair from my face. 
I moved back the blanket to check the gash in his thigh. Lifting the white bandage, I could see that it was almost completely soaked through, if I left it that way he would never get better.
I throw my legs over the edge of the cot and search for my discarded cloak, “You need fresh bandages or you’ll get an infection. I’m going to go get you some.” 
“Y/n  don’t you dare leave this tent. There are war bound men out there looking for one last lay before they leave this world,” he pleads, reaching for my hand that’s just out of reach. 
“I’ll only be a moment Az,” I assure him before raising my hood and slipping out of the tent. 
I can hear him shouting my name as I exit, but his protests are quickly drowned out by the sound of drunken men. Azriel was right, these men were drunk and not in their right mind. But if that wound got infected and he died I would never forgive myself. So I kept my head down walking towards the medic tent I passed on my way in, ignoring rambunctious cheers and stumbling men. 
The light of the medic tent comes into view and relief washes over me swiftly before the rug is pulled out from under me and I run smack into a broad chest.
“Well what do we have here?” laughs a drunken male. I can smell the sweat and alcohol on him. 
“Looks like we have a little birdy who lost her way,” laughs a male from my right.
My feet take two steps back before bumping into another mountain of a male. His hand comes up to rip the hood off my head, if all three of them recognized me as their princess they didn’t show it. My pulse began to race as I frantically looked for a way out of this hell. 
“What’s a beauty like you doing out here?” crooned the male behind me.
I put on a stoic face, “I’m leaving if you’ll excuse me,” I state, but before I can even take my first step I feel large hands grasping my shoulders holding me in place.
“Whoever bought you for the night must’ve paid a pretty penny,” jested the man to my right. 
“What do ya say darlin? Are you gonna give these brave men a proper send off?” the man behind me says low into my ear as he grabs me around the middle, plucking me off the ground.
I start kicking trying to break free, my screamed muffled by his hand over my mouth. All the trashing in the world wasn’t enough to break their hold as the other two males descended upon me, as if they were willing to take me right there in the middle of camp. 
“I’ll thank you to take your hands off my princess,” drawled a voice from behind me. 
The eyes of the three men surrounding me went wide at whatever figure stood behind us, all three of them scurrying off to gods knew where. I turn slowly to face whoever my rescuer was, and I’m met with a mountain of sheer muscle and bright red siphons. 
“Cassian!” I cried running to throw my arms around the burly warrior, I hadn’t seen him in over a year. 
He hugs me tighter, the kind of bear hug only he could provide. It was clear to me that he missed me just as much as I had missed him. When he releases me he bends down to cup my face, and wipe away the tears I didn’t know had fallen. 
“Princess, what are you doing here? Where is your brother?” he asked, brows furrowed.
“Rhys brought me here but he’s gone now, he’s gone back to his own camp but he’ll be back tomorrow,” I say as Cassian continues to wipe away the fresh tears, this time tears of happiness and not fear.
Cassain stands up as if to assess for danger before tossing an arm around me, “Stay with me, I’ll keep you safe. Where is Azriel? I was told he was injured,” he asks, remaining vigilant.  
“He’s okay, I was just getting him fresh bandages,” I report, pointing Cassian towards the medic tent. 
“He let you leave his tent?!” he balks corralling me inside the tent. 
“Uh, no. Not really,” I laugh nervously. 
He rolls his eyes and grabs a few armfuls of bandages before shoving them into my arms. We weave through drunken men who do a good job of staying at least three feet away from me, no doubt seeing The Lord of Bloodshed trailing me. 
I throw open the flap of Azriel’s tent, running to his side at once. 
“Oh thank the mother,” he sighs in relief upon seeing me. 
I laugh at his fussing and begin dressing his wound, “Look who I found,” I say nodding my head to where Cassian stands behind me.
“I believe I found you,” Cassian corrects me, sheer amusement in his voice. 
“Cass!” Azriel beams as his brother gives him an affectionate smack on the shoulder. 
“Brother you look a little worse for wear,” Cassian chuckles looking at the wound I was currently cleaning.
“I’ve been better,” Azriel winces as I wrap the wound in a clean bandage.
“I heard what happened and came as soon as I could. Ran right into your princess here, causing trouble as usual,” the warrior chortles beside me making me roll my eyes. 
“What?” Azriel asked, more alert than he previously was. 
“You were right, the men out there are assholes,” I scoff, tying off the fresh bandage. 
“Did they touch you?” he inquired, his eyes ablaze. 
“Az it’s fine Cass was there,” I assure him placing a hand on his shoulder feeling the palpable tension there, like he was ready to pounce.
“Y/n did they put their hands on you?” he asks again, this time more unyielding than before. 
“Yes but look at me, I'm fine!” I say with an exasperated sigh. 
Azriel’s eyes flit to Cassian as he extends his hand to his brother, like he needs support. 
“Cassian help me up,” he orders, already scooting to the edge of the cot.
“Azriel don’t you dare!” I shout smacking his chest. “Enough with the territorial, Illyrian nonsense! You’re injured, you’re going to get yourself killed!” 
The shadowsingers body slumps back into bed in defeat with a huff, clearly upset he couldn’t pummel the shit out of a couple of lowly males who weren’t worth it in the first place. 
Cassian’s chuckle reverberated through the tent, “Good to see you two picking up right where you left off,” he joked, remembering all the times we had similar quarrels. 
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It was the early hours of morning, and while the sun was still hiding behind the mountains, it would be rearing its ugly head soon enough. The partying and cheering from outside the tent had died down. Men either passing out drunk or choosing sleep over thoughts of what might happen tomorrow.
Cassian snored softly in the corner of the tent in the chair he took up. He had elected to stay behind and watch over us at Azriel’s request and I was smart enough to not argue with two Illyrians. 
I layed on Azriel’s chest, waiting for sleep to claim me but it never came. Sleep didn’t find Azriel as well, his hand twirling through the strands of my unbound hair as we sat in silence. 
“You know what kept me alive out there on that battlefield after I was injured?” Azriel whispered into the night. 
“A healer that I’ll be paying a very handsome bonus to?” I laugh squeezing my arms around him a bit.
“No, you” he said seriously rubbing my shoulder 
“Me?” I gawk, sitting up so I could look him in the eye. 
“Yes, you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead.  “When I was downed they thought I was dead. Horses and men clamored over me. It was all so loud, such a blur but then I closed my eyes and there you were.” he said looking at the canopy of the tent, as if remembering the event.
“It was a memory from the first time I saw you, before I even knew who you were. You were standing in the snow waiting for Rhys and your mother and there was snow all over your hair. It was the first snow of the year and you were entranced just like you always are.” He chuckles, pulling me closer. “But I knew then and there that I had to open my eyes. Had to get up. Even if it was just to see your face one more time, kiss your lips, tell you I love you. I woke up in this tent reeling from it. I could’ve sworn you were here, in the vision I felt your touch. And then hours later you storm in here with your fussing and worrying.” he says. 
I feel a tear roll down my face as I cup his face, pulling his gaze from the canopy to me. I pulled his letter out of my dress pocket, the paper flopping about from how many times it had been folded and unfolded. 
“I kept this letter with me every single day. I must’ve read it a hundred times, hells I might even have it memorized.” I laugh, shaking the paper in my hands. “I never once gave up hope that I would see you again. No matter what happens after tonight I still won’t give up hope. I know I’ll find you again.”
Azriel chuckles, pressing his forehead to mine, “I’d crawl home to you if I had to princess,” he says resolutely. 
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I wake the next morning to the sound of men moving about outside the tent and an empty cot. The covers before me are still disheveled from where Azriel slipped out from under me. I threw the blankets off the bed and pulled my cloak from where I set it last night, fastening it to my shoulders. 
When I toss open the flaps of the tent I’m momentarily blinded by the bright sun before the sight of men collecting their weapons and armor come into focus. My eyes darted frantically for a trace of Azriel, surely he couldn’t have gone far, surely he wasn’t going to fight today. 
“Azriel!” I call out roaming around looking for a flash of a blue siphon. 
Heavy footsteps come up behind me grabbing my arm and I turn around to be met with Cassian. I looked back to the tent and realized he had been keeping watch outside. 
“Cass, where is he?” I ask him, but all I’m met with is a heavy gaze from Cassian. 
“Y/n?” calls a voice from behind me and I turn to see my father, mother and brother walking towards us.  
My mother runs over to me taking me into her arms and holding me close. It was clear to me that they had found Rhys and instantly questioned why I wasn’t under his care. 
“Thank the gods,” my mother breathed taking in my unharmed appearance. 
“You smell like that Illyrian brute,” my father sneered and I knew right away he ment Azriel. 
“He could have been dying,” I reply with equal venom, my gaze narrowing at the man who went through such great lengths to keep us apart. 
“Of course, why do you think I sent him to the frontlines again today?” he scoffed, already turning his attention to the hordes of men preparing for battle. 
My blood turned to ice in my veins and my heart plummeted. 
“What?” I cried looking at Rhys who wore a solemn look on his face. “Rhys, you knew?” 
My brother lets out a shaky breath, “I knew before we even arrived last night. When he tried to get you to leave I used daemati to tell him he was being sent to the front lines. He knew it would be the last time he ever saw you.” he confessed.
He knew. 
Haste clouds my mind and I turn to run in the same direction with the rest of the men, my father and brother joining their ranks without another word. My mother catches me around the shoulders and pulls me into her embrace as my knees hit the muddy ground beneath us. 
“No, no, no, no no!” I scream trying to run to the front, as if I could keep Azriel from death myself. 
“The battle is not yet over sweetheart, he may still live,” My mother coos stroking my hair. 
“He was injured mother,” my words come out as sobs as I cling to her cloak. 
“Have faith,” she pleads, kneeling on the ground with me, trying to calm me as best she can. 
“Azriel,” I cry. “My Azriel.” 
I give into my mothers embrace and after a while she ushers me toward a tent. She wipes my face with a cool towel trying to calm my swollen eyes, but it’s no use. Every war cry, and ear rupturing blast feels like the one that takes Azriel’s life. Each one sends me back into a mess of shallow breaths and tears. 
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Only when the battle cries fade, and the blasts of siphons and raw power cease do my tears stop. Soldiers and Illyrains come filtering back to the camp, some whole, some being carried by their peers. My brother and Cassain are the first to find us. Rhys was unharmed, but Cassian was wheeled to a healer immediately. Thankfully, she claimed he would be alright.
I took to the masses, weaving through men making their way back occasionally running into some as my eyes were focused on the skies. Searching amongst the hordes of Illyrians flying in. If Azriel was anywhere it would be there. 
“Azriel!” I shouted, my voice going hoarse from the screaming I had been doing. 
More and more Illyrians fly overhead, not one of them resembling my Azriel. If he was amongst them he would see me standing out like a sore thumb amongst the rabble, going against the grain of everyone before me.   
“AZRIEL!” I call out even louder, cupping my hands around my mouth as if it will help. 
“Y/N!” 
I hear my voice being called, not from the skies, but from the ground. My eyes snap to the crowds before me before I see a pair of wings over the top of a million heads. 
“AZRIEL?!” I call out moving in the direction of the voice that called to me. 
Then I see him, my Azriel. The wound on his leg is split open and his wings are pierced with a dozen arrows which explains his inability to fly. But he’s there, and he’s whole, and alive.
“Y/n!” he calls out to me again. 
I pick up the skirts of my dress running to him, my shoulders bumping into all the men I weave around. I jump into his arms feeling him pick me up, pulling me impossibly close. 
“Oh Az,” I breathe running a hand through his hair as my feet hit the ground again, his eyes assessing me for any injury. “My love, I thought I would never see you again,” I cried. 
His thumbs wipe away my tears as he cups my face, “Death, nor a thousand evil men could keep me from you,” he smiled before pulling me into his chest. 
As we hold each other, the chaos around us fades into the background. For a moment, time stands still, and all that matters is that we are together. He was here, in my arms and he was alive. Both of us were, and there were many more years ahead of us. Many, many more years. 
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Epilogue: third person pov
Rhysand and Feyre stood in the living room of the townhouse. The world outside was near silent as Velaris slept, having spent the day celebrating solstice. Even the faelights in the home seemed to have dimmed. Members of the Inner Circle worked to clean the dessert plates off the table where they had their magnificent feast.
“And that’s their story,” Rhys finished saying to his mate, rubbing her shoulder as they continued to admire the scene before them.
On the large couch before them y/n was asleep on top of an even sleepier Azriel, his arms, legs and wings all but draping off the edges just to keep her comfortable. 
When Feyre stumbled into the adorable scene it had occurred to her that she had never heard the story of how the two came to be. Rhysand was more than happy to tell her the tale of forbidden love and near death experiences. 
“They’ve been through so much,” Feyre said, leaning into Rhysand’s touch. 
“They truly have,” Rhys nods, pressing a kiss to his mate's temple. “But now they get to eat too much turkey every solstice and skip out on dish duty so I think it worked out okay.” he chuckles. 
Feyre slaps him on the chest playfully but laughs right along with them watching as the pair lounges on the couch, mouths open and completely and utterly relaxed. The High Lord and Lady turn from the living room to rejoin the rest of their family in the kitchen. There would be time to make fun of the princess and the shadowsinger tomorrow. 
They had all the time in the world.
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PROVE IT ───
jackson rippner ✧𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “You think you are possessing me / But I've got my teeth in you.” — ‘Unicorn’, Angela Carter
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pairing. jackson rippner x reader
summary. after breaking up with your boyfriend. you meet a handsome stranger at a bar. you tell him your cunt’s better than the girl’s your boyfriend cheated on you with; he tells you to prove it.
warnings. swearing, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, porn with some plot, impact play, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!
word count. 3.6k
a/n. i seriously doubt i wrote jackson’s character accurately in this so please comment anything i can improve on LOL🙏
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It’s not often you spill your entire life story to a stranger at the bar, but this one, this stranger with his watery blue eyes and plush lips, is oddly inviting; charismatic to a fault. It makes you want to give him everything, and absently, in your alcohol riddled mind, you think he’d make a good scammer. 
Or, serial killer, whichever he prefers really.
But it's not entirely his fault; you’re stress drinking, downing too many shots in too little a time frame, and the alcohol’s already hit your system ten-fold. 
You’re there because you’d broken up with your boyfriend the night before. You’d been dating just short of a year. He was required to travel a lot, mostly in Europe, as per his job, and you let him go each time without qualms - love them, let them go, right? 
Wrong. He’d been cheating on you since he went to Copenhagen — four months, now — with a pretty little Dane that wanted to marry. 
You were furious when he told you, of course, it’s fucking insanity for him to marry someone he’s known for four months, but you began seeing all the differences between you and the woman he cheated on you with: she, a perfect homemaker, you, a distressed professional he saw maybe once a month. 
“Hey, hey, don’t beat yourself up,” the stranger across from you said softly, breaking you out of your nostalgic stupor and back into reality. “‘cause he’s a right asshole. For cheating on you like that.”
The man had entered the bar hours after you did, housing a simple drink or two and absently watching the softball game on the bar TV, before you drunkenly inched closer to him, desperate to rant your dilemma to just about anyone who’d listen. He bit, and here you were now.  
You peered up at the man, inspecting him. He’s gorgeous, definitely, but you can’t tell if you actually think that, or your foggy, not-been-fucked-for-months mind just wants him to rail you into next week. 
No matter, you thought, downing another shot. It burned the back of your throat sweetly, fire trailing down your insides. “M’not beating myself up,” you protested weakly, “jus’ — m’just… wondering if her cunt was - so much better than mine,” 
He laughed, boisterously, the kind of laugh you hear rumble out from a close friend while you detail every wrongdoing or shameful memory in your life: he’s comfortable right now, as are you.
“Well,” he inched closer, large hand sitting itself on your thigh and slowly inching upwards, “if it bothers you that much, why not prove it? That your pussy’s as good as you think.” 
This wasn’t the first of his attempts to flirt with you: firstly he’d tucked a stray hair away from your face, later he swiped a drop of drink off your lip, then he’d clutched you by the waist, pulling you close to him when someone squeezed past you in the crowded bar. His brisk touch wasn’t unfamiliar by any means, but it did suggest more than the other ones, especially coupled with the lustful words he was purring in your ear. 
Then, there’s a gap in your memory. One too many shots, a stranger toying with the hem of the skirt you donned for the bar, and his sweet voice in your ear was too much for your dizzy head, and the only thing you remember is this: one moment, he’s getting braver, rough fingers ghosting the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and the next, you’re pressed against a bathroom stall wall, the handsome stranger’s knee pushing your quivering legs apart. 
You’re trading wet, messy kisses, and his hands are sneakily climbing up your shirt till they reach your chest. There’s a sharp intake of breath from him: “Fuck, sweetheart, no bra? You really were looking for someone to prove you right,” he cooed, touching your breasts needily. 
He’s kneading you artfully, fingers pawing at your flesh like he’s never felt something so soft, so plump. Your back arches as he does this; you’re practically putty in his hands. 
It doesn’t slip past you that you’re being felt up in a bar bathroom by a gorgeous stranger whom you don’t know the name of, but you don’t care. “Please,” you beg, his name coming up completely blank on your tongue, “please.”
“‘Please’ what, honey?” The stranger says huskily, one of his hands moving from your breasts up to your jaw, pushing it to the side to gain access to your neck. “Please kiss me? Finger me? Fuck me?”
You’re too drunk - and fucking horny - to deal with his theatrics, so you whine instead of answering, your weak fingers carding through his brown locks. 
“God,” he says, “How long has it been since you’ve been properly fucked? Just some touching and you’re already too fucking dumb to speak.”
His words make your cheeks burn with shame, but it also makes your core throb. The oh-so sweet stranger who listened to your problems all night telling you you’re just a dumb horny bitch is such a juxtaposition it's got you all hot and bothered. 
“Please,” you beg again, more desperate than before, “I need you.” 
The man let out an incredulous chuckle, head cocking back. “Baby, don’t tell me you like it like that. God, you’re such a fucking whore,” he said, before undoing his belt buckle and fly. 
He had noticed how your legs clenched around his knee, how your breathing got sharper as soon as the words “dumb” and “whore” slipped out of his pretty mouth, how your fingers trailed his back needily, desperate for any kind of touch. 
You bit your lip, watching the stranger through bleary, hooded eyes. He’d pulled his pants down just enough for his boxer shorts to be visible, before he grabbed you by the waist and turned you to press your face against the wall. 
One of his arms then draped across your shoulders, pinning you down and arching your back, hard, making your ass press flush against the large tent in his underwear. You let out a small gasp at the feeling, and you could practically see the smirk curling slyly on his face. 
He can’t be that big, right? It was just your drunk mind, making him feel bigger than you thought through his shorts. Plus, you hadn’t been fucked in over a month — you were probably just not used to it. 
Because, that’d be totally unfair - he’s beautiful, charming, an amazing kisser, and has a huge cock? No fucking way — if he was all that, he’s definitely a secret terrorist, or something. 
However, these days, you’ve learned that you don't have the best intuition. First, with your boyfriend, then again, with the man who just pulled out his thick cock, stroking it gently. 
“Oh, fuck,” you cursed, head straining to look at him behind you. Unconsciously, you shyly closed your legs at the sight of him. 
“Ah, ah, ah,” the man crooned, his other hand sliding between your legs and spreading them apart once more. “No take backs, honey. You did say you wanted me, did you not?”
The two of you were flush against each other, and you could feel his hard length resting between your legs. Just that, just him between you, already had you trembling in anticipation. 
“Then fuck me already,” you bit back, feigning confidence. In actuality, you were thinking: how was all that supposed to fit? And, of all people, you, who hadn’t been stretched out to fit any cock at all, not since last month, when your boyfriend made his routine visit. You were a loyal girl, alright, and your fingers never went as deep as any cock could.
But the moment for you to reveal your worries passed, and he simpered. “So fucking eager.” 
Then, his large hands smoothed down the swell of your ass, following the curve, before he lifted his hand up and came down on your cheek, making a loud noise reverberate throughout the empty bathroom. 
Your breath caught in your throat, a choked gasp mixed with a tense moan coming out instead, and you flushed. Thank god you were pressed against the cold bathroom stall wall, for it provided a miniscule relief to your burning face. 
He’d spanked you, and you fucking moaned. 
“So you do like it dirty.” he cooed, fingers returning and hooking into the waistband of your panties. 
“I bet,” he said, dragging the thin fabric down extremely slow, “that you didn’t come to the bar tonight to just drink,” he pressed closer against you, your folds now sitting right above his thick length, “you came, with no bra and a slutty skirt on, looking to get fucked senseless, didn’t you?”
He slowly slid in and out against your folds, his cock just barely grazing your clit, and you swore you could have screamed. The way he was teasing you was absolutely delectable and, in the same vein, incredibly torturous. 
“Answer me, honey.” he hummed, free hand rubbing circles on the skin of your hip. 
You let out an exasperated groan. “I - I came here tonight, to - ah!” you squeaked when the fat tip of the man’s cock poked your tight hole. 
“You came here tonight to… what?” He said, nonchalant, as if he wasn’t slowly driving his large dick into you. 
“I came here to…” you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ground your thoughts, and squarely not think about how mouthwateringly good the handsome strangers cock felt, “to get—“
Then, the loudest keen you’d ever heard tore out of you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, when he suddenly shoved all of his length into your soaking cunt. 
He bottomed out with a breathy laugh, watching your knees buckle and your mouth hang wide open. Then, once more, his calloused hand came down on your ass, a large crack sounding out within the bathroom. 
“Shut the fuck up, whore. Someone’ll hear.” The stranger said, as if he hadn’t just made a loud noise spanking you like that. 
But the way he insulted, complemented, mocked and teased all in a few sentences had you shuddering; never in your life did you think such dirty words could make you so wet. 
You barely kept in another whine, waves of pleasure ebbing throughout your body. The burning pain of the spank in combination to how your walls squeezed around his cock had you barely coherent, your face taut with pleasure. 
“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping all over my cock,” he whispered, leaning down for you to hear. As he did so, however, his dick pressed further into you, and another helpless groan rolled off your tongue. 
“But you’re too goddamn loud.” The stranger growled, and the arm of the hand that was pressing you against the wall shifted, now covering your mouth. 
Before you could protest, he slid out, then snapped into you. Immediately, you saw stars, and a muffled mewl slipped past your lips. 
“Jesus christ,” he murmured, “your little fuckhole’s taking me so well.” He began to slide in and out at a fast, rhythmic pace, so fast you could barely comprehend the ecstacy you were feeling. 
“Oh my god,” you barely stuttered out past his large hand. He was pounding in and out of you relentlessly, selfishly, no regard for your moans or helpless whines, merely focussed on thrusting his fat cock into your sweet cunt. 
Then, the both of you heard the bathroom door open, and you froze. The handsome stranger moved quickly, grabbing you by the waist and planting you on his lap as he sat down on the toilet. His other hand, still trained on your mouth, gripped tighter than ever when he felt the groan bubble up from your throat: this new position of you on his lap had his long length pressed right against your cervix.
“Now you really gotta be quiet, honey,” he whispered, pressing his face into your neck. You shut your eyes helplessly, a dejected whimper exiting your mouth. 
“Just be fucking quiet. You don’t want everyone in this bar to know what a dirty slut you are, spreading your legs for a fucking stranger in the bathroom, right?” He said, words foul and like poison, but actions completely stark to it: he was pressing sweet, chaste kisses on your shoulder, laying his head on your back. 
The man in the other stall was taking so fucking long to finish, and, despite the stranger’s words, he began to slowly rut into you, his large hands coming to rest on your hips and help you slide up and down on his cock.
Your eyes widened. “What are- ah, wh— what are you doing?” you said, a stuttered, hesitant moan leaving  your mouth, but you were completely without the motivation to actually stop him: the pleasure you felt earlier had increased immensely in this slower, riskier pace he took on. 
“Shh,” was all you saw him say, as you strained your neck to look at him. He looked the epitome of smug, lips curled, cheeks flushed attractively, strands of hair falling down onto his forehead.
Without his hand to muffle your groans, you muffled them yourself, biting down on your tongue. One hand of yours gripped onto the stranger's thigh to keep your balance, and your other hand sneakily traveled down to your wet, hot mound, fingers beginning to rub at your clit. 
He noticed this, however, hand gripping at your wrist and pulling you back to pin your arm behind you. “Only I get to touch you,” he snarled, “because this fuckin’ pussy’s all mine. Gonna be all mine.”
You let out a shaky exhale at his words, but you found your cunt more flexible than before, the soft slapping of your skin between each other sounding easier, wetter. Jesus, did you really get more turned on by what he’d said?
Finally, the person who had wandered in and entered the stall beside you exited the bathroom entirely, and you belted out a sharp moan with how the stranger swiftly picked you up and pressed you against the wall once more, this time facing him. 
He plunged his big cock into you like nothing before, animalistically, nails digging so hard into your hips you swore he drew blood. His pace was stuttered, desperate, like nothing could distract him from pounding into you, not even a fucking meteor. 
You, on the other hand, were arching, the pleasure taking your body over completely. Your hands carded through his brown hair, tugging when he hit that particularly spongy spot into you. He groaned, a rough and stuttered thing, feeling himself brush against that spot every time. 
Your tight cunt was stretching and contracting around his dick, like you were made with his fat length in mind, and it drove you up the fucking wall: the pain in your hip, the cold linoleum wall, his cock thrusting in and out — it was all so much, and your orgasm began to spill out from under you. It was slow, like water coming out of an overfilled glass.
“You — god, you’re fucking coming, aren’t you,” the stranger said knowingly. Your cunt had gotten tenser, stickier, trying to grip at him like you were afraid he’d never come back to you. 
You nodded rapidly, opting to do so in fear an unintelligible string of groans would come out instead of your words. 
He grinned, and lifted your legs to wrap around his waist, allowing his cock deeper access into you. Your toes curled, the new angle like being impaled, his dick easily slipping past your slick folds. 
One of his hands lifted off your hip and trailed across your lower stomach, “Can you feel that, honey? Its my fucking cock, so deep m’gonna shoot my come right in your womb,” he purred, pressing the bulge. 
Both of you were affected, a breathy grunt slipping past his lips, and you a feverish mewl. You couldn’t believe how big he was, large enough for him to be fucking visible on you from the outside. 
Suddenly, you remembered the man’s name: he’d said it, offhand, to the bartender before you dragged him to the bathroom. He asked the bartender to put your drinks on his tab, under the name Jackson. 
You face grew taut, your orgasm suddenly switching from a slow, sneaky drip to a hard smack, right across your face. “Jackson! Jackson, please,” you moaned at last, his name sounding right at home on your tongue. 
“Fuck, honey, you remembered? God, that’s so hot,” He whispered sweetly, then dragged you through your orgasm, thick cock pounding in and out of your throbbing core. 
It was like all the pleasure had steadily built up within your insides, all up into a big ball, then had suddenly burst, flowing throughout your entire body like you weren’t already being fucked relentlessly. 
“Such a - fuck - tight and pretty pussy,” he said, leaning into rest his head against your chest. You were weak, sensitively riding out your high, but you knew Jackson wasn’t quite as close. 
His thrusts began getting sloppier, harsher and focussed merely on feeling your walls against every inch of him. Your head rested beside his own, your eyes practically crossing with the overstimulation. 
Despite your orgasm, your cunt was still soaking, definitely dripping and marking a wet patch on both your skirt and his pants. It made you tremble, thinking of you two tiredly exiting the bathroom, disheveled and having to cover the other up. 
At this point, you didn’t know what kind of filthy fucking noises were exiting your mouth, with Jackson’s grunts and groans covering up your whines completely.
“M’gonna come,” he said a few long moments later, almost inaudible. “Say my name, say who owns this tight fucking pussy.”
“You do! Jackson does!” You exclaimed, his cock ripping in and out of you quicker and more jolted. “Jackson owns this pussy!”
Jackson grinned weakly, and with one final, harried thrust, he let go deep within you. He clenched his jaw, piercing blue eyes shutting tight and losing himself within the warm and wet feeling of your cunt squeezing him for every drop. 
You were so fucking full, and even when Jackson pulled his softening cock out of you — which, was still huge despite its idleness — you felt stuffed to the brim. 
His come dripped down your leg, and he promptly pulled your panties up, patting your worn out cunt as he did so. “You’re taking all my fucking come, so good honey.” he said, pressing a hungry kiss to your neck. “You were right: this cunt’s better than whoever your shit ex cheated on you with.”
“Told you so.” You gazed up at him through heavy-lidded, gleeful eyes. He was an absolute darling sweetheart, it seemed, switching from degradingly fucking you to romantically praising you. “Are you… up for round two?” you said, as he slipped his hand within your own, clasping tightly. You didn’t really mean round two - though, you wouldn’t protest it, especially with his delectable way of fucking you - you actually just wanted to go home with him… see where this relationship could lead you.
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to ask. You’re comin’ home with me tonight,” he saw through you cheekily, pulling you close to him. 
So, you did go home with him, and in the morning you laid beside him in the ruffled white sheets, counting the freckles on his face.
His eyes fluttered open when you shuffled. “Were you watching me?” he said, voice low and sleepy. 
You nodded silently, your hand coming up to pet his skin comfortingly. After a beat passed, you asked the question that was bothering you all morning. “Jackson, you wanted to fuck me first, right?”
He blinked, tense for a moment, before smoothing out his expression. “What?” he opted on saying instead, sounding every bit clueless and entirely convincing.
Not convincing enough for you, however. “Baby, you think I didn’t notice the shots you were calling over and inching toward me? I was drunk, not stupid.”
“Are you saying I took advantage of you?” He said darkly, a side of him otherwise unknown to you ‘till now. 
You raised a judging brow. “No need to be offended. I wanted to see where it was going to go: ‘did the handsome stranger want to fuck me, or did he want to kill me?’.”
He pulled you close to him, his arm snaking around your hips. “So, what are you saying?” he said, pressing a patronizing kiss to your forehead. 
“Hm. Well, I jus’ wanna know if this is a one nightstand.”
“And you don’t care about the - drinks, the “taking advantage” part?”
You let out a laugh. “I was confident, darling; I keep pepper spray and a pocket knife in my purse. Even if you did - which you didn’t - I’d make it out alive.”
Jackson bit his lip, looking up at you. This had meant to be a one night stand, considering the job he had, but you were looking at him so sweetly, so accepting, like you secretly knew what he did for a living and wanted him despite it. 
“Not a one night stand,” he murmured, leaning into your touch. 
You beamed, and, later, when you did find out what he did for a living, you merely cocked your head. Thought about it… outweighed the pros, the cons, (and the fact you were completely right: he was perfect, but also a fucking sociopath), and merely shrugged. 
“Honey, you’ll never do anything to me. Why should I care what you do for a living? Just don’t,” you warned, staring at him like you could and would fucking kill him, “cheat on me.” 
You didn’t have the best intuition. And, as it turned out, a great moral compass, either. 
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bettsfic · 3 months ago
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i've gotten very bad about not sharing big wins and i feel like i just don't tell anyone anything anymore, so here we go! furry ghost story is FINISHED
i started it almost exactly a year ago, outlined it, wrote a few thousand words, decided it probably wasn't worth my time (it's about a furry who fucks the ghost of his dead stepmother, that's it, that's the plot*), and moved on. then when i decided to dust off my short story collection to put it back out on submission, i thought, hey this shitty novel i gave up on might make a decent novella. and i don't know if it's a decent novella but it is a finished one
*i swear it makes sense in context. also it's not a comedy it's actually probably the saddest thing i've ever written, maybe even TOO sad and i'll have to dial it back, but the intention really is an earnest exploration of intimacy and spirituality. have you seen the film Somewhere in Time? the 80s time travel romance starring Christopher Reeve? it's like that except part of it takes place at bronycon 2012**
**there was a moment where i thought, "this might have commercial appeal!" and then stepped back and realized that no, no it does not.
anyway it's been a long time since i've had a win and i know not to put too much stock in feeling proud of something right after it's finished (it will get ripped apart and probably completely rewritten), but i want to be able to come back to this post in however many months and remember that i was at one point happy with a thing i made
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lizzaneia-elizalde · 1 year ago
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request for yan!villain Eros: What happens that after the kiss in the garden, mc avoids him like a plague (I wouldn't do that he's hot)
Yandere! Villain x Regressor! AFAB! Villainess! Reader part 2
I'M MAKING THIS A PART 2 OF THE CANNON PLOT BECAUSE HELLO?? THIS IS GOOD (the ask, not my writing LMAOOO)
I'm gonna start answering the recent asks tomorrow after I made my draft for our Theatre play! So be patient please (´∩。• ᵕ •。∩`)
Pookie you wouldn't do that to him, would you?? He would literally cry like a baby then burn the whole empire down 🥲
Don't believe me??
:)
This is short, but I wrote everything I can.
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Eros sat inside his luxury carriage.
He's in front of your chateau, waiting for you to come outside.
It's been a week since he kissed you, and ever since then, you avoided him like the plague.
At first, Eros thought you were only shy. Maybe heartbroken over the fact that your fiance cheated on you.
But no.
No no no no...
You've been avoiding him and leaving him hanging.
What's that called again back in earth?
"Ah... She fucking ghosted me." Eros whispered to himself, gripping his fist. Even the leather gloves wasn't able to withstand the sheer force of his grip that it slowly ripped, and ripped. And ripped.
His patience was running thin.
He's not playing.
"Ah..." He brushed back his hair. His eyebags dark and deep, he stared at the ceiling, wondering where it went wrong. Then, the waterworks came.
Tears started to slowly drip down his cheeks as his eyes stung. His vision blurry, he lets the tears flow down to his neck or drip to his expensive outfit. He doesn't care. All he feels is the longing he had for so long for you.
He wants to see you, hold you, and care for you.
The memories of you dying in front of his eyes as the bitch who shall not be named blasted her magic straight to your chest.
He remembered how your whole body shook with resistance due to suddenly being hit with an elemental magic that is the opposite of you. Golden veins creeping up to your neck. Your eyes turning white. Your hair frying in the ends. He remembered it all.
He remembered how he was actually the one who insisted on you greeting the fucker (prince) and the bitch (Elysia). He naively thought that a closure was in motion.
He remembered how the guards, along with the prince, ordered for your arrest as a dark magic user. Elysia, smirking under her fan, woed about how the prophecy told her of how dark magic users are evil.
He remembered how he immediately fled from inside, running to your side, and hugging your comatose body. He remembered injecting so much dark mana into you so that you'll live. He remembered encasing the both of you with a barrier that no one can penetrate, and declared war then and there.
He remembered how his company became the sanctuary for dark magic users. He remembered how the top floors are converted to a hospital just to house you.
He remembered the pain, the agonizing, torturous pain he went through in order to achieve revenge on your stead.
He remembered blood. So much blood.
He was not the same anymore.
He remembered burning down the empire to the ground, walking in their blood as he carried your body to the throne.
So much happened, yet it felt like it wasn't enough.
And when he killed your comatose body and himself, and woke up regressed, he knew he had to save you.
He remembered seeing you alive and kicking again. It felt like a dream, crying into his bed, relieved.
Now, he's crying once more.
It's because he remembers everything.
He loves you, so much.
He swore in his last life that this would be his last with you.
The life where you are happy. The life in which you're not dead.
A life where you're not constantly being trampled on. A life where you're lifted up rather than being pulled down.
A life in which you're loved.
He's always been kind of an emotional mess since this life. But can you blame the man? He's been through so much for you.
But he will do it once again.
Not to prove himself.
Absolutely not. He doesn't care about himself.
But if it's for you, he will.
You're his beloved employee.
His love is extreme. He always knew this.
But why wouldn't a man bring the whole world to his beloved's feet?
Are they insecure? Do they think their beloved is not worthy?
Mixed frustrations welled up inside him once more.
He wiped his tears and sighed.
He doesn't want to do this, but if he wants to take revenge for you and offer the world to you, he will.
Hid gaze suddenly turned sharp and cold as he saw the Imperial carriage speeding to your gates. It seems that your... Ex fiance is desperate to get you back.
He once loved this guy as his best friend, but he's your tormentor. And he doesn't forgive tormentors. Your tormentors.
Dark tendrils leaked from the bottom of his well polished shoes, threatening to spike up and kill the prince who was yelling for you in front of the gates. Murderous intent leaking from his body as he cracked his neck and planned for an earlier war.
Heroes can sacrifice their love for the world,
But villains will sacrifice the world for their love.
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alltimefail · 11 days ago
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I wrote a ridiculously long response that turned into basically a fic outline for this question from the Save The Dead Boys Twitter account, and I'm sharing it here so I can link the alt text for people who may want or need it (because Twitter's alt-text limits characters for some reason??? very annoying).
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(Source)
Without further ado, The Dead Boy Detectives Zoo episode no one asked for is under the cut 😂
I think a day at the London Zoo would make an incredibly interesting backdrop for an episode!
Edwin has more than likely never been to the zoo, as the London Zoo itself did not open until 1928, years after he died. Charles and Crystal, however, have most certainly been to the London Zoo. Niko has been to a zoo before too, just not the one in London quite yet.
I imagine it happens like this: a ghost client who worked at the London Zoo and died due to being attacked by one of the animals comes in distraught. At first, no one understands the unfinished business or mystery of it; they just feel bad for the person because that's a horrifying way to die obviously, but they know HOW they died/where they died/when they died so it seems pretty cut and dry. That's when the ghost tells them that they'd worked there for years, specifically in the exhibit they died in, and the animals had never so much as bitten the workers in malice, nonetheless had bouts of uncontrollable rage. The only thing they remember before the attack is the animal spasming and acting in pain - that's why the worker intervened, to help - and then everything is muddy from there. The eyes of the animal, however, were the strange part... they had almost a sparkling sheen over them... and that's when the boys realize something is afoot.
They take the case and the client leaves, Charles goes pattering on about how it had been "Literally forever" since he went to a proper zoo, just waxing nostalgic and excited as he does, and the girls are bantering along with him because Niko says she's never been to London's zoo, and that's when Edwin pipes up, nonchalantly like, "Ah yes, I suppose I've never been either, now that you mention it." Charles is just... flabbergasted at this, he's like "MATE, you've never been to London Zoo?" and Edwin good-naturedly rolls his eyes and is like, "I have not been to any zoo, Charles, as the very concept was not even around when I was alive," and he'd probably say more but the look on Charles' face is kind of sad and sheepish because he should have known that, shouldn't of he? Edwin immediately goes to reassure him before Niko breaks the tension (observative as she is) and she's like, "OMG guys, this is perfect! We all get to experience it together, it'll be so perfect!" and Crystal is like, "Yeah, unlike you two who can just waltz right in, Niko and I will have to buy tickets. Might as well get our money's worth and stick around after."
The day starts all fun and nothing really seems amiss until another person is nearly attacked while they're there, and this time it's a child: like the animal is literally beating at the enclosure divider so hard they crack it trying to attack, and fortunately no one ends up hurt but Charles and Edwin do their little signature look at each other because they know SOMETHING is going on.
The case becomes time-sensitive then, and high stakes, so they regroup somewhere quiet where the girls won't get weird looks and that's when they're approached by a shapeshifter deity who has been skulking about the zoo for years (maybe they used to be a God or something before being reborn) and they give good intel, and it'd be funny because you KNOW Charles' hackles are up after Port Townsend and the whole Cat King and Monty debacle, and he's misinterpreting everything this animal shifter does as flirting to the point that eventually the deity calls Charles out for it in a "I don't want your man" kind of way. That's like the B-Plot going on and it would be hilarious, and even Edwin would find that part a little funny/gratifying because he's not dumb and he's SEEN Charles' change in behavior lmao.
Anyway this is now turning into an outline for a fic jfc the TLDR of the rest is that they realize some asshole kid came into possession of some dark magic materials and has been coming to the zoo and practicing the spells on the animals, just being a mischievous shit who thought animals would be easier to start with than humans and wanting to see what they would do. The gang has to fight the little shit, but they're eventually able to get the book away from him and Crystal, the godsend that she is, wipes his memory.
Afterward, they DO actually explore the zoo for fun, and Edwin is transfixed and telling everyone all the facts he knows about the animals. When he doesn't know anything off the top of his head, he reads the displays out loud and jots down the best bits. Charles is absolutely delighted and apologizes for not bringing Edwin sooner, but Edwin is having none of that and they have one of their sweet "Edwin and Charles" domestic moments. They're interrupted by Crystal clearing her throat and Niko giggling, one eyebrow raised because the girls KNOW, okay? But they don't say anything and Charles just steps back (when did they get so close??) and he wraps an arm around Edwin's shoulders and leads the way to the next exhibit. The girls share a lunch of various little junk foods one would only indulge in at a place like the zoo, and all of them leave with a little souvenir (Niko's idea) that they picked out for each other (it ends up working out that Niko picks Crystal's, Charles picks Niko's, Crystal picks Edwin's, and Edwin picks Charles').
From that day forward the group decides to take the time to do at least 1 "Fun" day a month that isn't inspired by casework!
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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year ago
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Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 11
God this arc just keeps getting longer and longer. Luckily after this, I should be able to move ahead with the plot? I'm a few more minutes into the episode at least!
Anyway,
Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.
First, Previous
Word Count: 1.4k
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Cassie sat next to him and bumped their shoulders. “We’ll figure this one out just like we have all the ones before.”
Conner sandwiched him on the other side. “Yep. And the Fentons don’t seem like the type to hide information. They’ll tell us everything we want to know.”
“You’re both right. We’ll fix this and be home before we know it.” Tim pulled out his phone. “I wonder if there’s any old news articles we can look up for more information. Danny told me about the first ghost attack. A ghost called Lunch Lady who used meat to attack people and was upset because Sam changed the school lunch menu.”
Bart blinked at him and sat on the coffee table facing him. “You’re making that up. You’ve gotta be.”
Tim laughed and shook his head. “Nope. We’ll have to see if he has a list of his rogues so far. They’ve all been so gimmicky. Kinda like Condiment Man in Gotham.”
At Tim’s direction, Bart and Cassie also began looking into various news articles and posts about the ghosts of Amity. Conner recorded their findings and Tim supplemented with information he’d gotten directly from Danny.
Research kept them busy for the next hour until the Fentons returned.
“Danny’s friends!” boomed Jack when he saw them.
“How are you four doing? Did you find the pantry? Enough things to eat?” asked Maddie.
“Yes, Ma’am,” said Conner. “Cassie and I also left to explore a bit and found a corner shop where we picked up a few things we knew Tim and Bart liked.”
“That’s great! Now, I see you’ve seen the news, and I don’t want you to be afraid. Jack and I are planning on training some of Danny’s classmates in ghost fighting, would you four like to join?”
Everyone looked to Tim who bit his lip in thought. “I— can we sit in on the first lesson? I’d like to see some more of your work. Danny’s told me a little bit about it, but seeing it in person is something else. But I also want to spend more time just with Danny since we haven’t met in person before.”
“Of course, honey!”
Tim had to force his smile to remain neutral at the pet name. His parents didn’t even call him ‘honey,’ let alone anyone else. “Thank you, Dr. Fenton.”
“Call me Maddie, dear.”
“And I’m Jack!”
“Yes, Dr.— er, Maddie, Jack. When will the others be here?”
Jack looked at…something on his wrist that must’ve had a clock feature and boomed, “Not for another three hours! School’s still in session, you know.”
Conner cleared his throat. “Will you need help setting up? Maybe you can tell us a bit about ghosts while we do. I’d never seen one before.”
“Oh, that’s a great idea! Thank you, sweetie!” said Maddie.
“Conner, my boy, the first thing you need to know about ghosts is that they’re evil and only want to hurt you. If you don’t remember anything else, always remember that,” added Jack.
Tim’s stomach sank at those words. Did Danny have to hear things like that every day? “How do you know they’re all evil?” he couldn’t help but ask.
“Well, Tim! It’s because ghosts aren’t people. They’re post human consciousness imprinted on ectoplasm. They’re an echo of what they used to be and that echo wants to become a person again. But it can’t because it’s dead. So it lashes out at anything living around it. Either to steal their life or make the living like it.”
Maddie nodded. “Exactly. A ghost killed my best friend when we were girls. If you’d like, I can send you some papers Jackie-poo and I wrote about how ghosts form so you can have more information.”
Tim forced a smile. “That’d be great, thank you.” Could the portal be destroyed in some way? Would that keep ghosts from coming through and allow Danny to come with him to Gotham?
“Now!” said Jack. “Who wants to help me carry up supplies from the lab?”
Once again, Tim asked for some safety gear before going into the lab and Maddie shoved a white jumpsuit at him with a sticker of Jack’s face on it.
“This is one of Danny’s, dear. But he doesn’t wear them very often. Here’s another for you, Bart. It might be a bit long, but try it on and we’ll see what we can do. Cassie, Conner, you two will be a bit harder, but I think I should be able to coble something together. Hang tight a sec!”
“I guess we’ll go get changed, then,” said Bart as Maddie and Jack disappeared back downstairs to see what they had.
Tim held out the top and poked at the decal of Jack. Going to the edge, he worked a finger under the image and let out a sigh of relief when it came up. “These are removable,” he commented as he pulled it off.
“Fantastic!” said Bart, ripping his own off. “Come on, Rob. Let’s get changed.”
Upstairs in the guest room, Tim allowed himself to comment, “At least it’s not orange.”
“Everyone will know who we’re staying with, though.”
“Better than stepping foot in that lab with no protection.”
They were just finishing up when Cassie and Conner walked in with matching scowls. In their arms were a mix of orange and blue fabrics.
Cassie glared at them. “Not. A. Word.”
Tim smirked and held up his hands. “Who, me?”
Bart mimed zipping his lips.
“We’re just about finished here, though, so we’ll go help the Fentons while you two get changed,” said Tim. He couldn’t help the way his lips quirked as he looked at the clashing jumpsuit pieces as they passed each other.
Conner made sure to trip them with TTK.
Tim just smiled at him as he pushed himself up and left without another word, Bart a step behind him. The door was barely shut before they were laughing so hard they couldn’t walk down the stairs without gripping the railing.
“Good to see you boys are having fun! How do the jumpsuits fit?” asked Jack when he saw them.
Bart held up his hands to show how he’d folded the ends of the sleeves. “Not bad. Just had to roll up the sleeves and pants a little.”
Tim nodded his agreement. “Little tight in places, little loose in others. But I can move well enough.”
“Good, good! Now, want a detailed tour of the lab as we collect weapons to train Dan-o’s classmates?”
Tim didn’t have to hold back his sharp grin at that question. “Absolutely. I want to know everything.”
And Jack and Maddie were willing to share quite a lot. Conner and Cassie joined them ten minutes later, wearing jumpsuits cobbled together from spares of Jack’s and Maddie’s. Now that they weren’t rushed by trying to get out and manage an active and hostile ghost invasion, the tour of the lab was much more thorough.
Jack and Maddie were also happy to answer any questions the four had. As it looked, there was no actual organization to the lab. And in the fridge, food was stored right next to samples. The fudge hissed when Jack took out a piece to eat and Tim shuddered.
“Want one? My snookums made it! Best fudge you’ll ever eat.”
“Aww, thank you dear!” Maddie hugged Jack at his compliment and kissed his cheek.
“I— No. Thank you,” said Tim.
“Why do you have a stockade?” asked Cassie.
Tim gave her a grateful look and she winked at him.
“That’s to hold down ghosts so we can question them,” said Maddie.
“Yup! Restrain them in there and then you can use toys like this one”—Jack brandished a cat-o-nine-tails—“to force ‘em to talk!”
“Or the Fenton Prod,” added Maddie holding out what looked like an electric cattle prod. She pressed a button and the end sparked green.
Tim swallowed hard and clenched his teeth. Did everything these people make have to look so painful?
The rest of the time in the lab passed in much the same way. The four traded off who had to ask a distracting question as they were all more and more horrified by the casual cruelty displayed by Danny’s parents.
Eventually, the doorbell rang and they were able to return upstairs with armfuls of weapons. Maddie opened the door and Dash Baxter and his cronies stood there with sadistic grins.
“Dash, what a pleasant surprise to see you again,” Tim said with his own teeth bared. “I don’t think we got off on the right foot last night. I’m Tim. Danny’s told me so much about you.”
For a moment, the boy’s face showed confusion before it was wiped away with a polite smile. “He’s told us about you, too. I’m sure we’ll become great friends.”
Well fuck. Looks like the ghosts weren’t all gone after all. Tim held a hand behind his back and signaled danger to his friends. They needed to get away from here.
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Next
We've got more with Jack and Maddie here! Hope you guys like how I write them. We already know this is going to turn into bad-parents Jack and Maddie based on what's going to happen in Arc 3. (Arc 3 will be the original prompt fill and it's fall out.)
Also, I think I'm going to change some things around in previous parts. I won't edit them on Tumblr, but before they go on AO3 they'll change. Tim is going to lie to Bruce a bit more than he has so far. He'll tell Bruce that Danny is Cassie's friend so he doesn't decide to look Danny up if he gets bored.
Next chapter will have Danny and co again!
I will no longer be managing a tag list for this fic, but please check out the Subscription Post if you want to be notified of updates. I'm also want to get the first chapter transferred over to AO3, but I'm going to transfer the first arc of Ghost!Robin first.
I reblogged an ask game earlier today if anyone's curious about me. Check it out and consider sending something in!
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sonicasura · 7 months ago
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Let's be honest with ourselves that Transformers Earthspark has its issues. It isn't uncommon for the series to have a few messy iterations throughout the years. However those at least have something going for them.
Bayverse is a junk pile yet there's a lot of material you can build off on and some pretty interesting concepts. RiD15 is an awful sequel to Prime but does decently well as a standalone although there are much needed changes to be had. Earthspark... Well, it's just there.
I can be lenient with the plot holes and poor pacing as Nickelodeon is notorious for interfering with any show that isn't SpongeBob to the point of cancellation. The issues truly land on the characters themselves. I'm gonna try to simplify it without devolving into a rant like the previous draft.
Edit: Gonna add some further edits as I wrote this in the middle of the night. Plus my simplified version skipped some key details.
Robby. Somehow they made a human character I actually dislike instead of be neutral about. In the official Transformers wiki, he's labeled as a big brother who cares for his siblings but his actions so far say otherwise. Robby literally ran away in the first episode because they moved then decided to try and hide the Terrans from his parents.
Yet he rarely gets enough consequences for his actions. I think we don't just need less Emberstone saves not just because of plot armor but force actual character growth on him. Like a life changing to one of his siblings as consequences for his actions and strained relationship until he gets his head outta his ass.
Edit: Yes, I know Robby is a teenager but that isn't a decent enough excuse for his behavior. Seen the trope about big brothers who do act closed off or at some points rude but they haven't done shit that put their family in serious danger. No, I didn't try to purposely forget the times he was injured badly.
There honestly needs to be less of those and his consequences be adjusted to it affects someone else badly. *
Next issue is lacking confrontation with Optimus choices alongside the obvious misplaced trust in the 13 Primes. Quintus Prime literally emotionally manipulated and scarred Mo through a fake bad ending reality because she doubted herself. No good person would do that, much less an actual ally. Even moreso on a child.
I seen this shit in Trollhunters but at least Jim, the main character, was a teenager. (It still was wrong though.) We also got remember that Liege Maximo and Megatronus/The Fallen are Primes. Yet somehow it is best to trust them.
Don't get me started with some of Optimus' choices when it comes to GHOST. He probably did it to protect his Autobots but what about the Decepticons who are locked away? Why are there so little of his companions with him especially since Bumblebee had fucking went into hiding before the show began.
There needs to be tension between Optimus with his Autobots. Someone is bound to snap and Bumblebee would have the biggest impact. The man clearly isn't okay as he's doing things that even Megatron admits ain't like him.
Mandroid needs to be written differently. He has the making of a sympathetic villain but oh boy. First off it is clear that his depiction is ableist aligned since the reason he doesn't like Cybertronians is because he lost his arm. Major thing to change right there.
Give him a narrative where his interest been genuine but slowly declines as the Autobot/Decepticon war increases the number of destroyed lives. Let him become a victim to this than just 'I lost my arm so death alongside experimentation to all Cybertronians'. Also don't make Mandroid ignore the obvious fact that the Transformers parts he puts into his body is slowly poisoning and instead come up with ways to fight the infection. Kinda like in Ironman 2 where Tony's arc reactor began to do the same thing.
Edit: Mandroid's negative views on Cybertronians are about the war and he's aware of the Energon poisoning. It is just that it is poorly portrayed to the point you rarely see it over his Arachnamechs/his ruined life.
Have the man present various evidence of destruction the war caused by both sides at the Malto children or anonymously spread such info around town to sew discontent with the townsfolk. 'These are the people who you consider heroes. Who you see as family and friends. Or should these tragedies be forgotten?'
Do a Baxter Stockman where you frequently see him try to fix the Energon poisoning than just simple dialogue. Even have testing on organic subjects to see how they react and find ways to counter it. Don't keep these key points as simple dialogue. *
I don't think Karen needs much changes either. 'But her taking over Cybertron doesn't make sense!' It actually does for one reason: hubris. Have you ever seen what happens when you give a control freak power? Their behavior becomes more erratic as they begin to think they deserve more. She is xenophobic in nature so imprisoning Decepticons and ordering around the Autobots is a drug to her.
Karen wants to treat them like slaves so the next step in her mind is Cybertron. Her death is well deserved and well played. Just like Icarus, the bitch flew too close to the sun.
I think the last major issue, other than out of character racist Shockwave, is the Terrans. No offense but they need a bit less screentime so the rest of the cast can shine. We barely see Alex and there's unclarified issues involving Bumblebee with Arcee if he's uncomfortable around her.
I also want their flaws to be at the forefront. Thrash is the only one who gotten such character development from his encounter with Swindle. We need more of that! Like Hashtag's overreliance on the Internet biting her back as she is forced to use real world skills.
Edit: I accidentally put in Terrans when I really meant Twitch. The screentime for everyone needs to be balanced mainly for the Malto family. Alex alongside the three younger Terrans rarely get involved or their characters further build upon. Twitch needs to get benched more.
Also the Dad Number 2 should really be addressed. Wheeljack was clearly uncomfortable when it been brought up. Plus it is way too fast to even consider such ideas unless you plan to have it addressed properly. Like 'Kid. We barely know each other yet somehow I became a father figure in an instant? It's best not to do that until you truly certain "Dad Number 2" doesn't mean harm or feels comfortable with it.' *
Earthspark clearly has potential but these problems need to be handled better. Addong the deleted scenes help add some clarification but canon needs to present it. We are supposed to get a second season so hopefully some of these are addressed.
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meridiansdominoes · 7 months ago
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Hi! I've read Dominoes and Espirit D'Corps (probably butchered that, but it's French, so) like. At least a dozen times each. I love both so much. I always cry at the part where Kyber and Hevy meet--its just. It's so good!!!
Can I ask how you came up with the plot? If you want, feel free to rant about your creative process, I'd really like to know how your brain works
Hi! I'm so so glad you've been enjoying them! Thank you so much!
Oh my, about how I came up with the plot, haha... hm. Well, for Dominoes, it was back when I was in high school and clone wars was in full swing, so I was reading a TON of fanfiction. I had noticed that there were tons and tons of fanfiction where Jedi are thrown back in time or given a chance to try and fix the timeline, and many of them were very good! But there were very few that dealt with clones in that situation back then. I noticed this because of my clone obsession, haha, I really wanted one, but I couldn't find anything to satisfy me. As I thought about it more, I realized it could be really interesting to see how non Force-sensitive characters would deal with such a situation, especially ones that don't have nearly as much authority as a Jedi. Figuring out that dynamic was fascinating for me, and so rough drafts of the first chapter began! In the beginning I didn't even have a reason for how or why they time traveled, either. I just wanted it to happen, so I wrote it! It's been fun putting things together to make the plot more coherent now. Of course, this was before we got news that season 7 would be released, so I had no idea we would get more Echo content, thus his involvement with the bad batch and survival past the techno union nonsense isn't included, but it's still been fun!
For Esprit de Corps... I remember it was new year's eve several years ago and I was having some serious writer's block with Dominoes, so I decided to pull up a blank document. I had just watched the Force Awakened again and was mourning the lack of Finn character development, and started to brainstorm how his interactions with the clones would have gone. That led me to remember the term 'esprit de corps', which basically refers to a sense of kinship or loyalty felt between members of a group... and then 'esprit' looks a lot like 'espiritu', which is spirit in Spanish... so then I thought it would be really fun if ghost clones were helping Finn throughout his adventure. It really evolved from there!
Thanks for the ask haha! It was fun to remember how these fics began! Keep an eye out for updates in the near future ;)
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bisexualnerd · 4 months ago
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Writer tag game
I wasn’t tagged, but I saw the game randomly posted by another user so I want to play anyway! (red for fic links and blue for series links)
1. how many works do you have on AO3?
35 (and only one draft because I don't really like working on multiple projects at the same time)
2. what's your total AO3 word count?
395,306
3. what fandoms do you write for?
I write the most for Batfam, mostly Tim and Jason but usually, the whole fam (more or less) is also there.
I write a bit more for some other fandoms but there are only one or two fics for each (2021 Produce 101 - Chuang Zao Ying, Hollywood Undead (but these fics are not finished), Julie and The Phantoms (1 fic - finished), Arsenal Military Academy + The Legends (they are kinda connected in 1 fic) and I have like, one translation project too.
I'm hoping to write Star Wars fics one day too. Really like the whole time travel thing and Obi-Wan is my beloved.
4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?
The Monster Under My Bed (The Monster Down The Hall)
"Back Away From Him."
if i lose everything in the fire, i'm sending all my love to you
Cold
A Pile of Sleeping Birds
5. do you respond to comments?
All of the comments, definitely. I really enjoy reading and replying to them and sometimes, I even come back to re-read the comments to feel validated 🤣
6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I write angst a lot but I have a thing for happy endings. But if I look at the fics individually and not like, as a part of a bigger series, it might be i have so much to say but you're so far away. But if not just the ending but the whole plot in general, it can be any fic really (I would recommend Restless Heart Syndrome, And Now You're Home, The Monster Under My Bed (The Monster Down The Hall), and What The Heart Remembers).
7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
They all have some sort of happy endings (though some fics that are a part of a series might not but the series will have happy endings). But since all I have talked about is Batfam, I would recommend this from Julie and the Phantoms. I don't write romance often, but this is just a short soft, cute love story of two ghosts (Reggie and an OC based on his real-life wife) plus some humour in the band - ‘Cause I’m Not Too Far And You’re My Favorite Place. I was very satisfied with how it turned out and I still come back to re-read for my own enjoyment a few times so I hope you guys will give it a chance.
8. do you get hate on fics?
My most controversial fic would be Hold Me Close, Don't Let Go (Watch Me Burn) but it's not like people showed hate to me. They just didn't like the story and how I wrote it so there were some unpleasant comments. The newest one, I think I did well with my response. It's a rather heavy fic because I went through a really rough time when I was writing it (along with many others) so if you want to read it, be careful.
9. do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I don't. My fics are all rated G or T (mostly because of swearing and violence, and also some with suicidal theme or idealisation because I did have a really bad time).
10. do you write crossovers?
Just for two fandoms, Arsenal Military Academy & The Legends, because they share the same lead actor and actress so I thought it would be fun to write something about reincarnation. It's Then and Now, Forever and Always.
11. have you ever had a fic stolen?
I don't think I'm famous enough for that.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes, into Chinese, actually. It's The Monster Under My Bed (The Monster Down The Hall). The link to the translated fic is in the fic.
13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?
Not really. I planned my current series How To Steal A Brother with my friend Den and she is also my beta-reader for this series but I still write all of the stuff, which she reads and corrects the mistakes for me later.
14. What's your all-time favorite ship?
That's hard to choose. I really like Robin (Dick Grayson) and Starfire. It was like my first ship ever because I watched Teen Titans as a child. I also like Marinette/Adrien, very cute but the secondhand embarrassment is not very healthy for me (at least she has gotten better at interacting with him). The Doctor (10th) and Rose was one heartbreak that got me crying like a baby in 8th grade.
So honestly, I don't think I can pick because those were the three that came to my mind first, but I still have like a few dozen left.
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?
The Hollywood Undead fic - When Gravity Pulls You In. It was a really fun idea but then I ran into a big writer's block and I haven't recovered for this fic. I have been writing for Batfam again but I doubt I can go back and finish this one (at least anytime soon).
16. What are your writing strengths?
I don't think I'm too good with dialogue but I do have a strength in describing and like some sort of metaphor (English is not my first language so this is a difficult question to answer). I don't know if this is also considered a strength but like I said, I don't really write many fics at the same time so I can manage them pretty well. Most of my fics are completed before I move on to another one.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Dialogue. And I forget a lot of stuff so I have to go back to the earlier part so the plot won't be inconsistent. And of course, I write in English, which is not my mother tongue, so sometimes, I lack vocabulary or my grammar can feel weird.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I mean, I would add translation or explanation very subtly in there. But I saw a Star Wars fic where the writer had like, floating texts or something for the conversations in Mando'a so like, I will research on that if I need to write in another language.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Batfam. Tim-centric.
20. Favourite fic you've written?
Damn, that's like asking a parent for their fav child on national television.
In terms of like, wording and metaphors and descriptions and all the technical stuff - And Now You're Home - because some of my fav paragraphs are in here. In terms of logic, time can never change for the flying bird under the summer sun because I went crazy with all the planning for the whole time-travel-but-nothing-changes-the-future thing. In terms of plot, i'm so out of touch with everyone, and everything's a blur to me. This was one of my earlier ones but when I came back to this earlier this year, I found it so enjoyable and fascinated. I couldn't even believe I wrote this one. But it is a part of a series so you might want to check out I've Got You Brother.
This has been fun and I have been shamelessly PR-ing my fics. I don't really know who to tag so anyone else who wants to play, go ahead and have fun!
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theriveroflight · 5 months ago
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Ghost Trick: Phantom Knight
For an anonymous prompter via @fyeahghosttrick's Ghost Swap 2024. The prompt was:
Genre swap AU! Fantasy, superheroes, classic pulp… how does the plot play out in a setting with different rules?
Now, I've had a medieval fantasy AU in my head for ages, mostly to play around with some A/C/J OT3 thoughts. But! I had thought about before where other characters like Yomiel and Lynne fit in, as well as the equivalent of the Temsik Park incident, so I...sat down and I wrote a retread of the whole game, medieval fantasy edition, Lynne POV. I wanted to pick a prompt where I could write a lot to outdo my contribution from last year, and this is, uh...much longer. Which is why I'm not including the full text in this post like I did for my Ghost Swap fics last year -- sorry! It's just...too long.
Word Count: 13285 (you see what I mean?)
Content warnings: Mostly the Ghost Trick typical stuff -- temporary death, non-graphic violence. There's also a lot of talk about beheading.
Knight Lynne of the Royal Guard has had a very long night. He had asked her to meet by the willow tree in the graveyard — a morbid place, but she had no reason to refuse.
After all, she is out of options. She has her mission, and it is the same as it has been since she first was knighted by the king. Her purpose is to seek justice.
Regardless of what becomes necessary.
“Knight,” he says. “You are…courageous to meet with a man like myself.”
“If you have information, I will take whatever you have to offer.” She grips the ribbon — the representation of her vow to seek justice. “I know your shape. I know you were the mage who terrorized the kingdom ten years ago.” She places one hand on the hilt of her sword. “But I do not fear you.”
“You should,” he responds, grinning larger than life, and those teeth are the last things she remembers before—
There is blood on her sword when she draws it and a decapitated man on the ground. It is simple enough to figure out that someone must have swung it, and the sword is still in her hands, so…
The fault is her own.
read the rest on AO3
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canmom · 4 months ago
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thinking about Deus Ex Human Revolution because I stumbled over its soundtrack in my game OST folder.
it got good reviews in its day but with hindsight it's not really remembered as a great game to endure the way the first one did. there is stuff to praise - art direction for example - but equally, you can criticise plenty: the clumsy handling of the 'augments' theme, the shallow orientalism of the China chapters, the watering down of the immersive sim elements. the clumsy outsourced boss fights and the rubbish ending.
if it's remembered today it's mainly for the "i never asked for this" meme, and the 'Icarus' trailer.
youtube
watching it again in 2024, the soundtrack is doing a lot of the work of carrying this. most of the dialogue in this trailer is really corny cyberpunk-isms, and a lot of its visuals are blatant riffs on Ghost in the Shell, Appleseed and Blade Runner (though I'll credit that it has a great sense of mechanical design in its robots and stuff). but the opening visual motif - the Renaissance dissection tableau transitioning into the flight of Icarus - is just the right level of pretentious for a game like this. that, combined with the wordless vocals rising and falling around the synth line, does so much work to sell the idea of 'this is grand and important'.
cyberpunk has a pretty specific sound associated with it - the electronic sounds are obvious, but in some of the best remembered cases it relies on contrasting the human voice and old school percussion against those synths, typically in some unusual vocal style that is likely to be unfamiliar to viewers - most notably Indonesian gamelan in the Akira soundtrack, and Bulgarian choir in Oshii's Ghost in the Shell. the other major genre touchpoint, Blade Runner, does not generally use vocals in the same way, but still plays the synth off against percussion sounds. in the simplest terms, it's a contrast of 'natural' and 'unnatural' right? what humans were and what we're becoming.
here we're not importing quite such an unfamiliar sound, but we have a lot of long, held notes by a solo singer (either Ariel Engle or Andrea Revel going off Soundcloud, but I'm having a hard time figuring out the specific credit). it's not unrelated to what Emi Evans was doing with the 'chaos language' in NieR, and indeed to the sound that J'Nique Nicole would bring in the sequel there. I really like wordless vocals, the human voice is such a versatile instrument and brings so much texture.
against that the synth here is actually keeping things really simple. it's mostly just repeating phrases, often simply arpeggios. I haven't really learned enough to keep track of the chord movements here, I'm sure someone more well-versed in music theory could easily take them apart because I doubt it's doing anything overly complex. but it's in a minor key, it's gradually rising for the first half of the track, dropping a bit every so often so it can keep climbing for the most part... and then the final third introduces a second synth line with a slower descending motif - goddamn it's literally just the Icarus metaphor again isn't it, rising and then falling? but it's not too obvious with it, like it doesn't climb all the way back down.
against that the trailer plays a montage of General Cyberpunk Stuff, notably Adam killing people in sicknasty ways, robot limbs doing robot limb stuff, newscasters with interesting fashion sense, and protesters getting gunned down by cops. the weakest parts are the ones that refer to the game's plot and aren't just pure vibes tbh.
that trailer wrote a lot of cheques that the game couldn't really pay, but it is interesting to look back at it with a more analytic eye. it makes me wonder how to really get that human voice texture in music I make. I mean the obvious answer is 'learn to sing', and I'm working on that and making progress, but my voice is pretty testosteron'd and inevitably that limits my range. vocaloids are great but mostly for a different kind of sound. ah well, I'll figure it out. the erhu at least has a sound that's pretty close to the human voice, so maybe that can be the ingredient I need to get that Atmosphere(TM).
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wangxianficfinder · 1 year ago
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Fic Finder
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1. Hi I’m looking for this specific fic:
I remember there’s mpreg and lan Zhan is the one pregnant.
It’s a modern day AU where they’ve been hooking up in hotels. So friends with benefit to lovers to husbands eventually. Lan Zhan quits his job eventually to be a stay home and there’s conflict of interest between their two jobs.
Thank you so much!
//
Hi I’m looking for a fix where lz can get pregnant and eventually does. I recall it’s a modern au where they’re in rival companies. LZ eventually leaves the company to be a stay home dad for their kids. They meet up in hotels to have rendezvous frequently before their relationship was open.
They got eloped as well.
Thank you!!
FOUND? sweet as cherry wine Series by cicer (E, 81k, WangXian, Modern AU, Business rivals, Intersex, Mpreg, Barebacking, Pregnancy kink)
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2. hello! for fic finder, may i ask for a great tumblr meta that i cant find anywhere? (i feel like i should disclaim that ppl should read what they find hot. i just saw a recent mxtx interview that said like the exact same thing as the meta and thought it was cool)
the meta talks about how mxtx specifically choosing to write lwj as a top WAS the gnc option. i think op was just frustrated about some people insisting that switching/top wwx was 'less heteronormative' (as a justification for liking it??). i think op mentioned that this seems like a western take on mdzs?
basically, in the meta, they expand on how lwj is gnc-coded. like how touching lwj's headband equals staining his honor like how a cdrama man kissing an unmarried woman would be (this is what mxtx also said herself in the interview), and a bunch of other things (handling money, etiquette, lwj keeping track of wwx's tastes as opposed to wwx buying him spicy food, the incense burner domesticity, and idk more stuff i cant remember)
i *think* they wrote something like "all mxtx couples come with the gnc already built in" which was a cool point imo (one example is hc flipping the gege kink), but i tried searching for that and i couldn't find it for the life of me. thank you! (Huh, I feel like I remember this one faintly 🤔 ~Mod L)
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3. Hi there! I appreciate all the work yall do 🥰 I'm trying to find a fic where LWJ has to do an ascension trial in the moral world and WWX accidentally fucks it up. WWX has to break LWJ's heart in order for LWJ to still pass the trial. I remember that WWX takes the option to forget the trial but LWJ doesn't. Might be a foxxian fic? Thank you!!! @la-voce-to-me
FOUND! Keep Me on Your Pillow by catbrainedschemes (E, 42k, wangxian, fantasy au, pillow book au, high immortal LWJ, red fox WWX, pining, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slow burn, feelings, first meetings, misunderstandings, happy ending, sharing a bed, first kiss, oblivious WWX, oblivious LWJ, sexual tension, hero worship, falling in love)
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4. A) This fic is a modern au, I think that both LZ and WY are cultivators, WY specifically is kind of a witch (?), he messes with dark magic and lives in a haunted town or something like this. There's a reencounter between the two (I don't know if by chance or if LZ tracks WY) and at some point LZ gets worried that WY is sorrounded by ghosts/resentful energy, but he is aware of the situation. I think WY even has a pet crow/cat, but I'm not sure. And the plot may envolve him being isolated, running away or being expelled because of his methods of cultivation. Also, I'm pretty sure there's a fanart featured in the story that has Wangxian and the haunted place WY lives/takes care.
B) The second one is also a modern AU, LZ father is very sick, almost dying and stays in the hospital all the time, but LZ refuses to visit him because of the resentment caused by the situation with his parents. He meets WY in this same hospital, I don't remember if he works there, but I think it has something to do with Yanli. They connect through this situation, LZ eventually goes see his father and I think WY has some part in convincing him to do so.
C) Another modern AU, Lan Qiren is a priest/owns a church, the Lans are very religious and that includes LZ. WY is kind of a delinquent, he starts to go to the church and begins a friendship with LZ, who is very upright and frigid like in canon, plus the super religious part. I think LQ even says WY is a bad influence bacause of his behaviour and the things he did/does, but LZ realizes he is not that bad and there's probably some toutoring/disciplining envolved from his part. They are both teens or young adults and I specifically remember a scene when the two have sex inside the church with LZ being on the receiving end.
Thank you in advance and keep up the awesome work!
4B)
FOUND? 兔死狐悲 (tù sǐ hú bēi) by Anonymous (M, 14k, WangXian, Modern AU, Getting Together, Meet-Cute, Doctor WWX, Hospitals, Canonical Character Death, (But a minor   character - not the ones listed), Angst with a Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort)
4C)
FOUND? Say Amen by Wuxian_Biscuit (Charlie_Biscuit) (E, 6k, WangXian, Religion, Internalized Homophobia, Church Sex, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Bottom LWJ)
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5. Hi! I love your blog and I have found it really helpful in the past. I was wondering if you could help me find a fic? It does have wangxian as the endgame. With wwx and lwj being opposing generals on opposite sides of a war. However, they both respect each other and have worked together to save innocent lives in the past.
In the end the Lan win the war and lwj takes wwx under his protection as a sort of war prize. This fic is very heavy on the Jiang and Jin bashing and in the end I think the Jiangs and Jins have to stand trial for their crimes during the war. While wwx is under lwj’s protection and never committed any crimes thus is not punished. I don’t think it is terribly long and I thought it was finished or almost finished at the time when I was reading it. If you could help me find this fic I would really appreciate it! @kjwaikiki
FOUND! Crossing Paths by Ilona22 (M, 21k, wangxian, shapeshifter au, graphic depictions of violence, war between sects, war crimes, not JC friendly, happy ending)
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6. 👋 I am looking for a time travel/kid fic among thousands. This one LWJ travels back to being a kid, rescues his mother and they escape cloud recesses. He takes then to save WWX from the streets of yiling and they all grow up together I think in Meishan yu sect elser house before war happens. Cam you help this lowly one? 🙏🏻 @the-untamed-stole-my-heart
FOUND? The Dreams of Youth by sami (E, 86k, wangxian, time travel, fix-it, family, not lan sect friendly, canon typical violence & gore, childhood friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, mothers who live, some people live/not everyone dies)
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7. Hi for the next ficfinder please help with this request. This came as a random thought that refuses to leave my mind. I really only remember one scene. Which is someone, I believe it’s lan xichen, remarking that lwj would walk all over jyl. Not in a bad way just that he was more assertive and her being more demure i guess. It was a wangxian fic though. Not sure if it wasabi. Please help @lilly-420
FOUND? In Love and War by Cataclysmic_Calamity (E, 68k, wangxian, ABO, canon divergence, alpha LWJ, omega WWX, arranged marriage, slow burn, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, menace to society WWX, doing his best LWJ, miscommunication, past emotional abuse, dubious consent, consensual non-con, semi public sex, dom/sub)
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8. hiii it's me again I'm sorry I can't seem to find anything rn and you guys are literal lives savers I'm looking for a fit where lwj was raisin A-Yuan and I just remember that they were talking about wwx and lwj compared him to a butterfly going in a dark forest to bring back treasures for other but each time he made the trip he lost some of his light until one day he couldn't come back. that all I have can you help ???🙇🏼‍♀️ thank youuuuuu✨✨ @ihaveasoftspotfora-yuan
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9. Hi, thanks for your time! I'm looking for a(n older), well-written fic where wwx takes the wen away from the cultivation world after breaking them free from qiongqi road. Lan Zhan decides to follow after them. They settle far away, I think, on a mountain. Living conditions are harsh, at some point I believe mud floods washed their crops away and they had to move them elsewhere. Wwx was quite weak for some time. At the end of the fic was a grand scene where wwx and lwj destroy the tiger seal together, almost dying while trying. They don't rejoin the cultivation world. Any idea? @kesterling
FOUND! wide enough and wild by impossibletruths (E, 64k, wangxian, canon divergence, Getting Together, Canonical Accidental Baby Acquisition, Families of Choice, References to Depression, Canon-Typical Violence, Happy Ending, Noping Out Of Society With Your Boyfriend And Your 50 Wen Refugees: The Novel, Overzealous Use Of Imagery, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Well Except Wen Ning But He Was Already Dead So, Fix-It of Sorts, Podfic Available, Spanish Translation Available)
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10. hello mods! I am looking for a fic where wei wuxian is taken over by a phoenix god (?) and is locked up post-sunshot in the cold pond cave so as to not kill everyone with his new phoenix powers. lan wangji willingly enters the cold pond cave as well even though he knows that wei wuxian is being controlled by the god.thank you in advance!! @yourancestorsarefrowning​
FOUND? Breathing Firestorm by ladyshadowdrake (M, 110k, wangxian, angst, fluff, captivity, creepy WRH, no non-con, dreamsharing, politics, people making the best decisions they can, epic length, mythical creature WWX, canon-typical violence, dark, happy ending)
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11. Hi! I was actually searching for a mdzs meta blog here on Tumblr . i have been scrolling for hours now but i can't seem to find the blog.I am very sure that they write a detailed meta on the last scene of the untamed where Wwx says to lwj " You are indeed hanguang jun " and lwj replies with " you are indeed wei ying".They had a lot of other posts too .
I understand you do not find blogs / posts but if you know anything any account like that i would gladly appreciate it .
Please feel free to ignore this ask if you wish to ! Thank you.
FOUND! number eleven might be https://hunxi-guilai.tumblr.com/, with this being the post they mention
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12. Hiya, im hoping you guys can help me find this fic? The only things I remember is it was canon setting, lwj pov, where he kept hiding/fidgeting with his hands in his sleeves and the author kept bringing attention to it to show him being nervous. It was also complete and definitely longer than 10k at least. Thank you!
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13. Hi! I’m looking for a wangxian fic about right-hearted and left-hearted people. In the story, hetero couples have men with hearts on the left side and women with hearts on the right side of their bodies, and gay relationships were either both on the right side or a combo. I just remember that wèi yīng had a right sided heart. I remember that wèi yīng and lán zhàn got together before it was revealed that wèi yīng was about to be in an arranged marriage. I think wèi yīng turns the girl down and she shoots spiritual energy to his right side in an act of rage and almost kills him and because he and lán zhàn had, like become mates(?), he is the only person who could save him. I’m pretty sure it’s not a/b/o, and it is in the canonical time period. Thank you! @fries-n-salt
FOUND? Right-Hearted by 0_Heta_0 (E, 22k, wangxian, heartmark au, canon-typical homophobia, internalized homophobia, hurt/comfort, falling in love, fluff & angst, smut)
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14. Hey ! For the next fic finder i am looking for a work where wei wuxian was a god and so was lan wangji .I think it was a Hades and Persephone au .the clans still existed . Also i think lwj was the god of flowers and wwx the god of death and when lwj visits the underworld he makes flowers grow for ayuan who is wwx adopted son
FOUND? Flowers Blooming in the Dark by TheLegendOfChel (T, 65k, wangxian, WWX & LSZ & LWJ, Gods & Goddesses au, Inspired by Hades and Persephone, Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, but it's still in a xianxia/wuxia setting, Pining, Courtship, Forbidden Love, Kidnapping, kind of, Smitten LWJ, Smitten WWX, Courting Rituals, Secret Relationship, references to wwx's canonical kinks, Child LSZ, Fluff)
FOUND? there will come soft rains by infinite (recursion) (Not rated, 14k, wangxian, gods & goddesses au, Hades/Persephone au)
FOUND? The Radish and the Pomegranate by MissMagus (T, 15k, wangxian, WWX & LSZ & LWJ, Inspired by Hades and Persephone, greek mythology au, kid fic, fluff & angst) could also be this, but in it ayuan is the God of flowers and makes them grow in the Underworld
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15. Hi! It's me again. It's for fic finder. On this fic, Qin Su dies and Jin Rusong lives. Before QS dies, she told JRS to never trust JGY and a few days after she said that, she dies because of drowning (i think). That happen in the flashback. And JRS indirectly help NHS in his revenge. Thats all i can remember. Thank you!!! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername
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16. Hello! I’m looking for a fic and I can’t for the life of me find it… I believe the plot was branching off after qiongqi path or nightless city, and it’s wwx running away from the cultivation world and lwj pursuing him. And while this is happening wwx meets xiao xingchen and lwj meets song Lan on the way. And it goes along with song Lan and lwj tailing wwx and xiao xingchen hoping to find them and explain everything and make up. I know wwx and xxc end up at baoshan sanren’s mountain and that lwj finds mo xuanyu during this and takes him with them. I remember the detail that a-qing brings song Lan to Lan wangji bc she knows they’re looking for a cultivator dressed in white with a white cloth “over his eyes” and she mistakes the forehead ribbon for that description. Any help is appreciated I have such a hankering to reread!
FOUND! These Things Unseen by bonyenne (T, 34k, wangxian, WWX & XXC, WWX & LY, canon divergence, fluff & angst, accidental baby acquisition, getting together, happy ending, found family, alternating pov, pining, kid fic)
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17. Hi, hope you guys are good. I'm looking for a fic I read that I forgot to bookmark. I remember WWX never got adopted by the Jiangs and was instead raised by BSSR. One day he got caught sneaking into Cloud Recesses while helping to pass messages between her and LY. When asked why he was there he panicked and claimed he was a Jiang disciple and JYL rolled with the lie for the drama of it all. I also remember the Wens attacking and he helped defend the place with the help of the other guest disciples
FOUND! Become Tomorrow by ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 39k, wangxian, alternate universe, cloud recesses study arc, WWX is BSSR's disciple)
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18. hello!
i was trying to find a fic but it's as if it disappeared from the internet.
it's one where wei wuxian 'died' at qiongqi path and lan wangji goes to pay respects in burial mounds but turns out he isn't dead.
thank you.
FOUND? Also it’s possible 18 is my fic? in this place where we don’t have a prayer by Cerusee, Mikkeneko (T, 42k, JC & WWX & JYL, WN & WWX & WQ, wangxian, JYL/JZX, JC & WQ, JC & WN, future JC/WQ, character death (WWX), JC shouting, humor?, JZX is ok for a Jin, necromancy)
FOUND? End Racism in the OTW | The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, wangxian, canon divergence, hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, blood & injury, injury recovery, respiratory illness, major illness, fever, grief/mourning, angst w happy ending, implied/referenced suicide, hunger & food scarcity, surgery, Fix-it of Sorts)
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19. Hello! Please help! 🙏 I've been going crazy trying to find this fic. It's post-canon, married wangxian in wwx pov, where lwj is under a spell/curse which makes him emotionless (i think its a long one-shot). I remember a scene where wwx thinks lwj just fell out of love w/ him in the beginning until he sees lwj interact with sizhui and a very robotic sex scene that ends with wwx feeling very uncomfortable. @littleladysilver
I just read #19, I wanna say it was on a recent fic finder ?? it was a 2 part fic, I think it was tagged for curses rather than amnesia
FOUND? Does anyone even read work titles? idk what to call this by Nighttdust (M, 14k, WangXian, Curses, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, though not to much, Both get hurt both get comforted, Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Happy Ending, Protective WWX, Insecurity, a bit only)
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20. Hi!
So i read a canon divergence fic long time ago that wangxian were betrothed to each other since young and wei wuxian always had to wear a mask and besides the jiang family no one was allowed to see his face, also he lived in a mansion in yilling with mian mian and xue yang, plus wei wuxian and lan wangji were pining hard in this fic. Also for the sake of her family wen qing married lan wangji. I feel like it was deleted from ao3 cause i searched a lot but i wanted to get help from you guys too.
Thanks!
20 might be a deleted fic. I've seen people asking about it before, but I can't think of the name.
FOUND? I think #20 might be Price to Pay by Wangxianist and unfortunately it is a deleted fic. I also don’t think it was ever finished.
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toads-treasures · 3 months ago
Text
Writer Interview
I got tagged by @forget-me-maybe and @pouroverpaloma, thank you for the tag!!! I'm sorry that I definitely may have overshared!!
When did you start writing?
This is going to sound cliche but, since I learned how to write at all, I think? I distinctly remember that I got in trouble when I was about six years old, because I took a photo album that had nice sturdy paper pages from the laundry room and wrote a mystery story in it. I remember it was a mystery because on every other page I colored my own version of the old transitions they’d do in cartoons, with a question mark with concentric colorful circles around it lol. Strangely vivid memory of those transition pages, I think I was very proud of them. 
But I’ve been writing and “illustrating” pretty much my entire life. I started writing fanfiction in middle school or highschool, and that’s what I’ve always liked writing the most.
Then I decided to get a creative writing degree, which then led me to developing both a god complex and a crippling sense of perfectionism and self doubt, and completely drained any enjoyment from writing literally anything, because I couldn’t get my professor’s voices out of my head. I loved my professors and I think I learned a lot, but I became so obsessed with my writing being perfect and impressive and something they would want and like, that I stopped writing things that I liked. So, I had a crisis and dropped out! And didn’t write anything for like four years so 🫠 but we’re slowly gettin’ back into it. 
Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?
I don’t think there are any themes I enjoy reading that I couldn't really write, but genres definitely. I don’t know if I could write a contemporary romance. Unless I am doing a modern AU lol but even then I always seem to end up adding some kind of fantastical element.  I love reading a good Emily Henry novel, but I try to write a lighthearted contemporary romance and inevitably some ghosts or fucked up fairies of some sort will appear. I gotta inject a little horror and fantasy into pretty much everything I write, which I think a lot of people are surprised by. I’m surprised by it, because I am such a baby I can’t handle watching horror movies. I think less horror, and more like, gothic elements maybe? IDK man it’s been a long time since I’ve been in a literature class.
Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?
I wanna be Maggie Stiefvater when I grow up. She’s a young adult novelist but she is such a talented writer, I can’t even explain other than her books make my brain go !!!!! 
I cannot recommend Scorpio Races or The Raven Cycle enough. She’s got such a distinct voice, and she is really good at magical realism which I love. I don’t know if I intentionally try to emulate her though I think I’m just a sponge that just absorbs bits and pieces of anything I read, but I think I have unintentionally stolen a line or two from her before.
Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?
I have a home office that I adore and is super cute and cozy but unfortunately most of my writing is done at work on my lunch break. But that’s also a pretty nice place, a shaded courtyard at the hospital I work at that’s got really nice tall trees that blossom in the spring. 
What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?
I always come up with some pivotal character detail or plot point while I’m doing dishes. Then I have to scramble for my phone with sudsy hands to immediately tell Liz I have had A Thought.
Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?
I think a lot of my stories are about grief, which I don’t usually realize until later. Grief and memory and growing out of the place you were born, and the kind of dissonance that comes from wanting so desperately to go home but not fitting when you get there. Or things are different than how you remember, for better and for worse. I love thinking about complicated parent/child relationships, and coming to the realization that more often than not your parents are neither heroes or villains, they’re just people.  Coming of age stories but the protag are in their late twenties? 
I looooove to write about people slowly (or not so slowly) falling in love and the little things you notice about someone when that’s happening. Like the way a slight sunburn sometimes makes blue eyes look even bluer, the way someone’s eyes widen before they start laughing, like they’re surprised at their own amusement. Getting to know someone in so many different contexts. So different kinds of intimacy I guess? It wasn’t until recently that I even considered writing smut lmao and even now when I try the characters just end up having some deep conversation and unearthing some kind of trauma. Let’s not analyze what that says about me. 
But it always seems to come back to grief at some point and living with loss and growing around it. Which is strange because I’m very lucky to have not gone through that process with anyone extremely close to me. It is definitely something I think about a lot though, it’s almost like I’m trying to brace myself, or practice grieving before it actually happens.
What’s your reason for writing?
Escapism babyyy. I say escapism then talk about how all I ever write about is grief….so….but it is both escapism and kind of working through some shit emotionally lol. One of my favorite possibly cringey things to do, but something that has genuinely helped me a lot, is creating a character that has a lot of qualities that I feel self conscious about. They have ADHD, they’re tall and a little clumsy, or they’ve got the same body type as me. They also dropped out of art school. But it doesn’t bother them at all. They’re not insecure about any of those things. Or if they are, they learn not to be. And the other characters love them anyway.
One of the things I’ve really enjoyed doing with a lot of the fanfiction I write is I get a chance to write about the moments in between the big moments. Explore aspects of characters that maybe there wasn’t time for in the game. Or you know if it’s Wyll just aspects that Larian didn’t bother to do at all i’m not bitter 
Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?
Literally any. I crave any form of validation. I love when people can point out themes and stuff to me because I usually miss that myself lol.
How do you want to be thought about by your readers?
Uhhhhhhhhh I have never considered this. Positively? I think more than anything I want people to care as much as I care about these characters, that we’re all being genuine and sincere and sappy together.
What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?
I don’t know if it’s my greatest strength lol but I love writing dialogue. That always comes easily to me. And descriptions of landscapes. That’s always something people in class would point out. I will wax poetic about a mountain or the sea don’t test me. 
How do you feel about your own writing?
It comes and goes lol. I try not to think about it too much honestly because I’ll spiral pretty fast into extremely self critical territory and freeze up. Because I must be a genius, Professor Signor told me so, now I have this impossible standard to live up to. Also my professor never told me I was a genius but she did really like my writing and wanted me to take a bunch of honors classes and be on the school literary magazine and all of that pressure and expectation kiiinda made me freak out and run away. So now I try to just have fun, and that’s what I want to feel more than anything is that I’m having fun, and truly enjoying this part of me that has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. 
tagging @hauntedliz @mars-colonyand @likesomethingblooming if you wanna!
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