#i thought about an old wip and decided to finally finish it

[cyndraws]

fanart for Green eyes by Arrysa_Clair

It's an amazing KHR fic, i love it to bits <3

Orange hue in green eyes, so strange, so contrasting. Two different shades that shouldn’t be mixed together yet simultaneously existed in those vibrant and glowing green eyes he was locked in.

Chapter 12: The limit of kindness

(My art doesn't fully fit the scene but it's a fitting quote ^^)

[dandelion-wings]

I don't know if I'm writing writing this, but I was thinking about it more during breakfast, and I figure I can at least just write this particular scene!

---

Diluc tries to clutch his hand to his side discreetly, under his cloak. The black he wears should hide the red of blood. He should have known, though, that he can't conceal a wound from such an accomplished healer. Especially one who regularly treats Jean.

"Oh, you're hurt!" Barbara exclaims. "I can help!"

Before he can pull away and attempt a leap up onto the wall--a leap that, he has to admit, he's not sure he could accomplish with those muscles torn in the first place--Barbara has come dashing over to push his cloak over his shoulder and pry his hand off the wound. She tugs the fabric back to reveal the rent in his flesh and frowns. He feels an unaccountable stab of guilt at the edge of disapproval in the expression.

"That's not good... but don't worry, Master Diluc, I can fix that! Here, sit on this crate. Take off your shirt- no, right, I understand, you don't have to do that if you can just hold the fabric away for me."

Diluc is too stunned to argue, letting her push him back onto the crate and pulling the torn cloth away as she motions for him to. By the time he can form a question on his tongue, she's already humming to herself, calling a swirl of Hydro out of her Vision to scour the wound painlessly clean and begin closing it from the inside out. He doesn't dare interrupt her work. All he can do is watch, breathless, feeling nothing but an odd tingle on his skin whenever her fingers brush over it.

Finally, last of all, the skin closes, not even a scar left to mark where that deep gash lay. Barbara takes a step back and smiles at him "There you go...." Her smile falters at whatever expression is on his face. "What's wrong?"

"You called me 'Master Diluc.'"

"Oh." She flinches, and he feels another lance of guilt. "I know you- you have to keep it secret, but I was so worried that I didn't think. I don't think any of them heard, though?" She casts an anxious glance over her shoulder at the unconscious bodies of her would-be kidnappers.

"No. *They're* not hearing anything." Diluc is confident about that. "I meant... how did you know? Did Jean tell you?"

"No, of course not. Did... did you think it was that big a secret? Your fighting style is so distinctive, I didn't think you were trying to hide it from people who *knew* you. I did pay attention during training when we were younger, you know," she adds a little defensively, and then, seeming to read something on his face yet again--what good the mask is doing, Diluc no longer knows, "Oh, but I'm sure no one who can recognize it would tell anyone else! I won't, I promise!"

"I'm sure you won't," Diluc assures her, because that, too, he's confident in. Everything he's seen of Barbara this past month tells him that she'll certainly keep such a secret. If anything, she keeps secrets a little too well.

"If you get hurt again like this, you can come to me for healing," she adds. "I know you'd rather go to Jean, since you actually talked to her about this, but... she's so busy, so maybe it would be better if you came to me!"

The moment she mentions Jean, her smile takes on that too-bright aspect that he's learned means she's hiding something. His chest aches, a little too tight, at the sight of it. He hadn't meant to give her the impression that he doesn't trust her. Specifically, at least. He doesn't trust *anyone* easily these days, but that's not a discussion he cares to have.

"Thank you. That... might be best, going forward. I don't want-" To create suspicion for Jean, but he bites his tongue on that, struck with the suspicion that making it all about her sister will only sting her more. "You're a much better healer than she is. Even cleansing the wound didn't hurt."

"Oh... I'm sure that's something she could learn. But thank you! Please, come to me any time you're hurt. I want to make sure you're all right."

Her eyes shine suspiciously in the moonlight, but her smile, while a little less bright, suddenly feels much more real. Diluc feels his chest squeeze tighter, momentarily breathless, and his heart flutters alarmingly in his chest. That smile....

"I will," he says, with the oddest feeling of crystalflies in his stomach as he finds the breath to speak. Slowly, he eases himself off the crate. "Let me walk you back to the Cathedral. I want to make sure these villains don't have any friends lying in wait."

And then, once Barbara's safe, he and Rosaria will come back and find out *exactly* what possessed them in the first place. Diluc isn't sure yet whether he'll insist on turning them over to Jean, who will have her own interest in seeing them punished, or help Rosaria with her usual approach. With Barbara looking up at him like this, touched by just a few words of trust, the second option seems particularly tempting.

I came up with Diluc/Barbara once for one insanely specific arranged-marriage AU and it has lived rent-free in my head ever since. It's always arranged-marriage or marriage-of-convenience and it's never been romantic but tonight I'm rotating the fake-dating version where they're both helping each other with a Social Problem and somehow the Diluc in my head is looking up at Barbara as she heals the Darknight Hero in an alley and feeling something go 'plink' in his heart and oh fuck. I'm doomed. how did this happen, I didn't need another WIP

[zarla-s]

We move forward, 'cause we can't go back...

It's the EIGHTH anniversary of Handplates, and the first one after I finished the comic back in July! I decided to dig up a very old wip that I never finished and finally do it. I've always loved WeMoveForward by The Midnight, and I think it applies not only to the comic itself but also this period after it... there's no way to go back to when I was doing it, only moving forward after it's done.

Even more appropriately, since I did this wip, these characters all moved forward even further... even as this sat in my files, they moved forward, in a sense. I don't know, the song gives me a sort of plaintive, longing, bittersweet feeling... it's hard to explain.

I had a very insistent voice in my head that always made me do a Handplates page over the years I was working on it, no matter what happened. I wasn't sure if that voice would ever stop, even when it's done, but it has! It's gotten quieter now, mostly only nagging me about other projects I should be working on (Defrag, the Ace Attorney/Frozen fic, web design, fic ideas, art ideas...) whenever I'm doing something, much like it did before I started the comic.

How I feel about Handplates finishing though is strange. At times it doesn't feel like it's over, even if I don't feel like I need to do another page. At other times I get sad thinking about it and I miss it, and other times I look back on it with amazement that I was able to do it. Sometimes I look back on it and think about what was happening in my life at that time, and sometimes when I look at it it's unreal and it's hard to believe I even did it, like someone else did the whole thing. It's like it's there but it's not, it's present but it isn't. It's a very strange feeling, it's hard to describe or pin down. I know it'll always be with me in some way, but it is strange to be able to focus so much attention on other things without that feeling of having to set aside a few days to do a page every two weeks... not bad or anything, but I'm not used to it still.

I don't know! When I read the comments on the last page a lot of them made me cry, especially those talking about how the comic had been their childhood, and now their childhood is over. It was sad to think that I had a part in something like that ending... but it ends for everyone, no matter what you do. We, you and me, everyone... we move forward, 'cause we can't go back. That line was so evocative for me that I even used it as a chapter title for the penultimate chapter on Comicfury.

I don't know, just nostalgic thoughts! I don't know if that's the right word for it... but thank you to all of you who read it and enjoyed it. Even now I hear from new people coming to it and reading through it again now that it's done. Even if it's finished, it's still new to people just finding it. It's still "living" in a sense. And thanks to those of you who stuck around even though it's done, I appreciate it. |D

(As a note, the Gaster ukagaka has a surprise if you boot him on the anniversary after seeing the brothers, if you haven't done that)

[index] [patreon]

[melanchol1cs]

CHERRY FLAVORED

childhood friend!leon x reader

wc: 1.6k summary: sweet and sour motivation, wish i could keep concentration. masterlist | taglist | wips

no warnings. just alot of angst, mentions of marriage, cheating/infidelity, kissing. based on ‘cherry flavored’ by the neighborhood.

a/n: daddy’s home ;) super happy to be back, missed you guys so much mwaa! so i was actually working on this piece before i decided to take a break and i’m super happy i finally finished. but be warned, this doesn’t make any sense and i strongly encourage you to ignore the grammatical errors and my horrible writing. p.s. i swear the next part of ltts is almost done, just need to fix a few things and proofread (yes, this is for u @lottiies)

he had always liked cherries.

ever since you we’re kids, he would go out of his way just for those silly fruits.

you used to tease him about how much he loved them, but deep down, you enjoyed his enthusiasm too. he claims to remember how cherries were your favorite too, which is why he'd share his stash with you, and you'd pretend to savor each bite, even though they always made your face scrunch up in an exaggerated grimace.

you never really liked cherries. you found them too sticky, too sweet, but you had always made an effort for his sake.

the sticky fingers and cherry pits were all worth it though, just to see that slight, knowing smile on your face when you humored him. those small, secret moments were like little treasures he'd collect in his heart, each one more precious than the last.

he remembered the times when they'd steal a few from the farmer's market, giggling as the juice stained your fingers and lips. now, as adults, the habit remained. sometimes, on late summer mornings like these, he'd swing by your place with a bag of fresh cherries, a nostalgic smile on his face.

"hey," he'd say softly, as you opened the door to greet him, the sunlight catching the wisps of hair escaping your bun.

"thought you might like these. still got a sweet tooth, right?" he'd hand over the bag, watching as your expression transform from a sleepy haze to something short of appreciation.

“leon,” you rub your eyes begrudgingly, stepping aside as to let him in. “it’s like.. six in the morning. you can’t keep doing this,”

“i know, i know,” he chuckled, stepping into the dimly lit foyer, the overpowering scent of the fruit carrying over to you. "sorry, couldn’t help myself," he said with a shrug, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "old habits die hard, you know." he set the bag of cherries down on the entry table, the red fruit seeming to glow in the morning light that filtered through the front window.

“no, seriously.” you deflect, hands on your hips.

“you’re getting married next month, leon.”

he winced at the reminder, his free hand raking through his hair. "i know," he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.

his smile faltered slightly, the corners of his mouth dipping into a small, regretful frown. the cheerfulness draining from his features like water down a drain.

"can't wait." he forced a smile, but you were certain it looked more like grimace. "ada’s been planning everything for months... i’m just along for the ride at this point." he laughs awkwardly, trying to deflect the underlying tension in the air. but he trailed off, unsure of what to say next, the words sticking in his throat like a cherry pit.

he swallows hard, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. his eyes dart away from yours, unable to hold your gaze any longer. he fidgets with the strap of his bag, his knuckles turning white from the pressure.

“okay,” you try to ease the awkwardness. “do you.. wanna go sit on the porch? i can make us coffees,”

a small, relieved smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he looks up at you, some of the tension dissipating from his frame. "coffee sounds great, thanks,"

he follows you to the kitchen, the silence between you thickening like a dense fog that clung to the trees outside. he’s perched on one of the bar stools, his long legs stretching out before him as he watched you move around the kitchen with practiced ease. the morning light highlighted the subtle lines of fatigue around your eyes, the tiny creases on your forehead, your shoulders hunched slightly in a gesture of quiet contemplation.

you hand him a steaming cup of coffee, the warmth of it seeping into your palms as you slid it across the counter. he took a sip, the flavor both bitter and sweet on his tongue. a small, contented sigh escaped him, his eyes closing briefly in appreciation.

“c’mon,” you tilt your head towards the door, and he’s quick to follow behind.

the morning air is crisp against his skin as he stepped outside, the chill of it seeping into his bones. he followed you to the porch steps, its wooden planks worn smooth with years of use. the world seemed to come alive in the golden glow of dawn, the leaves rustling in the gentle breeze and the smell of petrichor carried by the wind.

he sat down beside you, the cool wood biting into his thighs as he shifted to get comfortable. you were quiet for a moment, the only sound being the soft crunch of cherries as he munched on the fruit. his fingers stained a deep red from the juice, the color matching the rosy hue of your cheeks in the soft morning light.

"i— i know i shouldn't keep doing this, i'm not supposed to still have feelings for you." his words trailed off, lost in the gentle lapping of the breeze against the porch railing.

he took a deep breath, steeling himself. "but i do." he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. "i always have. and i probably always will,”

“leon,”

"you're still my best friend, you know? my person." he let out a short laugh, the sound a little shaky. “and—“

“leon.” you know what’s about to come next, and you don’t know if you can handle it.

“i love you.”

“i know.”

“i…” he lets out a strangled laugh, the bitterness of it written plainly across his features. “i’m sorry, don’t know why i’m like this,” he bowed his head, his elbows resting on his knees as he buried his face in his hands, his long fingers tangling in his hair. “i’m awful.”

“yeah,” you scoff, offering a pitiful smile. “yeah, you are.”

he laughed mirthlessly at your words, the sound raw and broken. “i know." he shook his head, his hair swishing against his wrists.

"never thought i was good for you, ‘ts why i stayed away for so long." he laughs bitterly, the sound hollow and empty. "i thought i could move on, forget about you.” he breathes, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his own inadequacies.

he turned to you, his eyes, normally a bright, warm blue, were dark and heavy-lidded, the rims a deep shade of red. "please," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rustling of the leaves. "just one kiss. for the sake of what we could've been."

"please?” he repeated, his hands dropping to his knees, fingers curling like he wanted to crawl towards you and envelop you in his arms. your shoulders form something short of a shrug, your mouth dry, unable to respond.

he leaned in, hands coming to cup your cheeks, eyes closed, his lips pressed against yours in a soft, chaste press of mouth to mouth. he lingered for a moment, every fiber of his being silently begging you to reciprocate, praying that you'd meet him half way, that you'd kiss him back.

and for a moment, you really do think of doing so, to kiss back and feel him as more than a friend one last time. but you didn't. your lips were cold and unresponsive under his, your body stiff and unyielding. he taste of cherries and bitter regret that eventually seeps into your very core.

the warmth of his breath ghosted against your lips, lingering, yearning. he didn't move away, didn't pull back, just held himself there, suspended in the moment of his foolish hope. after what felt like an eternity, he broke the contact, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

"okay," he whispered, his voice small and defeated. "okay, i get it." he pulled back, sitting up straight and wiping his lips with the back of his hand, the ghost of your lips lingering there. "i shouldn't have..." he trailed off, unable to bring himself to finish the sentence.

“know what, i think i should go,” he stood up, his movements stiff and jerky, like a puppet with its strings cut.

“you should,” you swallow.

he nodded, not trusting himself to speak. his eyes downcast, feet shifting nervously on the porch steps. "yeah," he mumbles, voice barely audible. "yeah, probably for the best." he picks up his bag and turns to leave, but hesitates, his hand on the railing. he spares you one last glance, his eyes a deep, aching blue. you look down, not being able to bear the weight of his gaze.

he’s out of sight the next time you look back up.

he doesn’t call or text after that, his visits become infrequent, until he they stop completely.

the world didn't slow down for you, nor did it wait for your heart to catch up. everything seemed to keep spinning, the sun rising and setting, the seasons changing, though your feelings remained stagnant. you tell yourself its for the best, that moving on is inevitable. reality is cruel that way — it never delivers on the promises of our fantasies.

eventually, you’ll start to miss him a little less, the hollow ache in your chest slowly starting to dull. life will move on, and so will you.

though the thought of him would still occasionally cross your mind, it no longer feels like a stab to the chest, but a nostalgic memory from a bygone era. something that could’ve been.

maybe you did like cherries after all.

tags: @crowleyco

[kunikinnie]

a/n: the angst writer lives!! this has been in my wips for a long time and just decided to finish it (sorry that Kunikida's is much longer than the others lol)

warnings: some profanity

watching you marry someone else

featuring: Kunikida, Akutagawa, Fukuzawa, Fitzgerald x F!Reader

Kunikida Doppo

a/n: based on my aunt's story + this is sort of a sequel to this short fic

He didn't know why he came here. Was it because the entire Agency attended? Most likely, but he's not quite sure himself.

It might be wrong for him to be here in the first place. It was he who dumped you, after all. But he supposed that your working relationship after that wasn't too strained - if anything, it seemed you were still good friends. Perhaps your romantic history had been superseded by your more recent interactions, so there's nothing for him to be worried about.

The venue of your wedding was an excellent choice. Nothing flashy yet elegant, and the decorations were quite refined. It seemed well-planned as well. He mentally took notes for his own - if he were ever to have one, that is. At the back of his mind old drafts of the wedding you two could've had suddenly reappeared along with old memories that should've long been forgotten.

Fortunately the pain growing in his chest stopped momentarily when you finally appeared at the entrance. His eyes widened, shocked at how beautiful you looked. It was perfect. From the way your dress showed off your figure in all the right places to the way your hair fell lovingly on your shoulders to the way the sunlight emphasized the brightness of your eyes - it was truly perfect.

Somehow he imagined it was him you were walking to. It was as if his greatest dream was suddenly becoming a reality, and the ideal life he had been chasing for so long was finally within his grasp. The millisecond-long glance you showed him felt like you were intently gazing at him for hours.

But the harsh truth came crashing down as you continued to walk past him. The moment your eyes met the grooms', Kunikida saw the invisible link you two had. It was something to admire, really, but also something to be envious about.

The pain in his chest returned with ten times the force it had earlier. As the minutes passed so did his frustration rise, and every thought he had from the moment you two broke up - no, from the very first time you two met each other suddenly overwhelmed him.

Kunikida loved you so much. Nothing has changed and it never will. If he simply never became ambitious, if he simply never lied to himself, if he simply never trusted his stupid brain over his heart then maybe-

"Kunikida-san, there's an emergency at the office."

Tanizaki's whisper caught him off-guard. But within seconds he recomposed himself. Although the wedding was far from over, duty came first.

He discreetly said goodbye to his coworkers and silently left the venue with his junior. Of course, he stole one last glance at you before finally leaving.

Surprisingly Tanizaki took the wheel, but Kunikida paid it no mind as seconds could not be wasted when more urgent matters were at hand.

"What's the situation like? What happened?"

Strangely, the younger detective continued to drive off in silence.

"Oi, Tanizaki. Didn't you hear me?"

The more he hesitated, the more the older detective became suspicious. What the hell was he up to?

"A-actually," Tanizaki finally replied. "Nothing happened. It's just that Dazai-san said-"

"What?!"

"I-I mean we could all feel it, Kunikida-san. We thought you just needed some space to let it all out."

"There's no need." He sighed heavily. "Really, you're all worried for nothing. We should head back."

Still, he did not stir. "They'll be exchanging vows by the time we get back."

It was Kunikida's turn to be silent. Even if the car continued to travel further away from your wedding, it was almost as if he could hear those vows being recited right in front of him.

His eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, focusing on nothing in particular. A single tear fell down his cheek which he promptly wiped off with the back of his hand.

"It's okay, senpai. You can pretend I'm not here."

Kunikida wasn't sure why he broke at those words. It was quite unbecoming of a senior to show his emotions this openly to a coworker, let alone someone much younger than him.

Yet the tears won't stop coming. It was as if the frustration that built up across the years finally let itself free. When was he ever honest about his feelings on the matter? When has he ever shared the truth with anyone, even with himself? The bitterness at each sob was so great that he was sure his voice would be hoarse by the next day.

His ideals should've brought you happiness - that's the most fundamental rule he completely forgot. Yet maybe it was his failure in keeping that that ironically brought you to the one who will truly bring you everlasting joy. He'd have to learn to accept this fact, even if it meant forgetting the what-ifs, even if it meant letting you go, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

The whole place was so... bright. Everything was white and fluffy, from the flowers on the aisle to the lights hanging on the trees. It was strange. It felt like he was in a children's book.

How unfitting for someone like him whose very being was, in essence, black. From his hair to his shoes, his coat, and perhaps even his soul.

But it's not like the guests noticed a shadow silently standing between other shadows. If anything, his whole outfit made him blend into the background perfectly as he intended. After all, Akutagawa wasn't in the strictest sense (or perhaps even loosest sense) invited to your wedding. He peeked behind the trees blocking your own little heaven from the noise of hell-like earth.

In fact, he could barely see what was happening. People in light colored formal garb, both male and female, the groom sporting something that stood out even more from the guests - he felt dizzy just looking at the scene.

But the moment you stepped in, all the color and light seemed to dim. Your white dress dazzled in the sunlight and your face shone brighter than he remembered. Has it really been so long since you last met?

All he could do was stare at you from the shadows. Your light was so blinding to his darkness, yet his eyes refused to shift their focus. How could he, when he knew that this would probably be the last time he'd ever see you?

You were better off without him. If you stayed with him, your smile would never be like the one you wore now. It's not like he could ever force himself upon you, either, even if it seemed that you cared for him more than anyone should have-

His chest began to throb painfully. The searing pain was much greater than most attacks he's had, rendering him almost completely helpless. Shit. If someone were to attack now, he'd be dead. Or if he were to give himself away and you spot him - ugh. He'd rather die.

Akutagawa struggled to walk away slowly, deciding to forget everything he saw there. It didn't do anything good for him. Why did he even decide to come here? Was he such a masochist to remember everything "good" you ever brought into his life? Wasn't it enough that he'd dream of you more often than he'd like, only to wake up in total darkness?

Each step he took triggered a memory for him. Each smile, each laugh, each embrace that you so cruelly bestowed upon him felt more real than the scene he just witnessed. Your... love had not yet disappeared, at least not in his mind, and how dearly he wished he could've relished in it a little bit more before it truly faded away.

Still, he was somewhat thankful he didn't. If it were granted, he would've craved your love more and left him with more pain in the end.

He still had that stupid sunflower keychain you gave him. It was a small crocheted piece, tattered but still quite vibrant in its colors. He never understood why you gave him that specifically in the first place. He only knew that you wanted it to make him happy.

Well, it still somewhat accomplishes that goal. It's the only physical remembrance of you he still has left, after all.

But like the sunflower that dies without the warmth of sunlight, he promised to let his feelings wither along with the memory of your smile.

Fukuzawa Yukichi

Unspoken words last longer. Deny it as much as he'd like, the truth is Fukuzawa's feelings for you had only grown deeper as the years passed by and only now did he wholeheartedly regret not telling you sooner.

He'd convinced himself that being friends - no, best friends was the best thing that could've happened between the two of you. No matter how much time was spent away from the other, each moment you two had together was only made more precious; it was as if you had never been separated in the first place.

All your dreams, all your hurts, all your pains - everything, he knew. And it was mostly true vice versa, except for that one very fact that stubbornly kept secret all this time.

He wasn't sure if he was truly glad to have been invited to your wedding. Sure, it was an intimate friends-and-family-only occasion that he was honored to be part of, yet the meant having to face the ultimate reality that he had for so long ignored.

He was present at your side of the wedding preparations. While others were scurrying along to bring you things you needed, he stood idly as clueless as ever. Maybe he should've just headed directly to the venue instead...

Suddenly, you requested him to enter your room. Well, if he could finally be useful then what was he to-

Astonished isn't even enough to describe his reaction. His hand froze on the doorknob the moment his eyes landed on you. Were you always this beautiful? Because it felt almost wrong to look at you, especially when his heart was holding things it shouldn't be.

"Hi Yu-kun," you spoke as usual. "I hope I'm not bothering you." Of course you're not a bother. You could never be a bother. "Just wanted a little chat to ease the anxiety, you know? My mind's been all over the place since last night."

You began spilling out of some of your true feelings - or perhaps intrusive thoughts is the better term. Worries about how you looked, how the guests were feeling, but most importantly worries about the future occupied your headspace.

He did his best to comfort you in his own way. Pre-marriage jitters are completely normal, and there was nothing he'd do to ease your nerves, wedding at hand or not.

"Actually... there's something I want to ask you. Before everything, you know, gets set in place..."

From that it was his turn to get nervous. He had an inkling as to what you were going to ask, and he wasn't sure if was ready to handle where this was going. He held his breath as each syllable escaped your lips.

"D-did you really... did you really never-"

"It seems they're looking for you, Y/N."

No, he was not ready. He couldn't be honest to you right now. How could you ask him now of all times? But at least he did not lie with his 'excuse' - you did have to leave soon and head to the wedding.

Without a hitch, everything went as planned. You walked down the aisle with all your loveliness, took the hand of the love of your life, and exchanged vows with him. Everything went so smoothly Fukuzawa nearly forgot about your earlier conversation.

It was during your dance with your now husband that he remembered everything. He silently watched the way your skirt flowed with every gentle step you took. Would he ever have been lucky to have danced with you like this had he been honest earlier?

Perhaps. But at this point, should he even think about that? He wished for nothing more than a peaceful married life for you, and disturbing that with a belated confession would do no good. That's why he dodged your question - not that he was worried your relationship with him would strain somehow.

Well, it's not like you actually asked him the question about that. He just assumed that's where it would go. And he's just assuming that you too had feelings for him that never went anywhere because of his own cowardice.

Agh. Maybe he should have waited for you to finish speaking. That way he'd never be left with unanswered questions and that he could have the closure he needed.

The night ended with neither of you bringing up what happened in the dressing room. You'd never bring it up in the future either, and in a way spared Fukuzawa half the pain. Seeing you happy, albeit with another man, was more than enough to satisfy his aching heart.

Francis Scott Fitzgerald

You two were quite young when he fell madly in love with you. But unlike youth, Francis was convinced his love for you would never go away. You didn't seem to agree, however.

Time can be cruel. He'd been working his ass off just to make a future with you possible - not just so that he could live another day, but also so that he could provide the future you wanted. So why? Why didn't you wait for him to come back?

In a way, he blames you for it. You could've been at least a little more patient. He never lied to you when he said he's been spending most of his waking time at work, or that not for a second did he forget why he was working so hard to begin with: to be with you and only you.

Yet for the most part, he blames himself. Had he been more efficient, he would've earned more and been able to return to your arms. Perhaps he could have gone down a different route that would've made him financially secure faster. Maybe you also felt unloved as he had little time for you - had he addressed your emotional needs better perhaps this story would have a different ending.

No. The story had yet to end. You loved him the way he loved you, right? You didn't lie to him, did you? So he still had a chance before you finally tied the knot - all he had to do was make it in time.

He'd raise an objection at the marriage. You'd suddenly snap your head to the source of the voice and meet his eyes, then you'd run into his arms and envelope him in your loving embrace, asking him why he only came back for you now. "I missed you so much," you'd say as he'd sweetly kiss your forehead like he did so many times in the past.

But he didn't make it in time. As he ran to the entrance the ceremony had already finished, and lavishly dressed guests were leaving to make it to the reception. That's alright, he said to himself, maybe he could still convince you if only he could meet you during the reception somehow.

The opportunity never came, however. He followed the trail of guests to the banquet your now husband without doubt had prepared for you. Francis recognized some of your favorite dishes among those being served, and it slowly broke his heart seeing how this new man of yours took good care of you.

He finally saw you seated beside your husband, dolled up perfectly to the role of a rich businessman's wife. He would've wanted to enter the hall and try to approach you, but the guards wouldn't let him take a single step inside.

There was still the end of the reception, right? Just one moment with you was all he needed. Good Lord, please just grant him this one opportunity to talk to you, even if there was no chance of getting back together with you. Francis just had to know - he just needed to talk to you one last time.

You finally left the venue, but there was no opening for him. You couldn't even spare him a glance. It was already hard for him to take one last proper look at you, so imagine how much harder would it be to talk to you again.

He couldn't sleep properly that night. The tears silently flowed down as he gently clutched a picture of yours, pretending that you were right beside him caressing his hand.

Why did everything go wrong? Why did nothing go his way? Was he truly a nobody, even to you, the love of his life?

From then on he vowed to make himself a man worthy enough to stand on your level. Someday he'd be able to speak to you once more, and the time will come when he'd provide you a better life than what even your filthy rich husband could. Someday, you'd learn to love him again.

taglist: @stygianoir, @requiem626k , @irethepotato, @kisara-16reblogs, @thatdazaikin, @dazaee, @menshusband, @celestair, @bloobewy, @renaxnnas, @kunikida-simp, @fyodorisbbg

[shes-an-oddbird]

WIP Wednesday - The Suncatcher

Thank you @annoyingcloudearthquake for tagging me! I've been working on this fic for actual years now, since the end of season 3, and I'd really love to finish it as a sort of thank you now that the show is ending. Unfortunately it's one of those fics that has grown out of control and has multiple main characters, alternating povs and is nowhere near done but I made fun little moodboards for each character to help motivate me to finish and thought I would share them and a little snippet with each. Fair warning the story was inspired by my niche obsession with Cirque du Soleil and an odd fascination with Las Vegas.

Summary: When a wealthy group of investors decides to save a struggling Las Vegas hotel, The Suncatcher, former performers Owen and Tommy are asked to revive their first Cirque show and turn it into the must-see attraction on the iconic strip. Together they recruit a misfit group of artists who deserve a second chance at the high-flying circus life and are determined to put on the best show they can even when they run into obstacles around every corner.

Neon - A Night in Las Vegas TK Strand - The Visitor - Aerial Straps/Duo Straps Artist

'The sun sets and a first time visitor falls in love with the heart of the city itself '

He passes Jonah’s door and moves towards the kitchen, stopping again when he hears voices.

“So what do you think?” To TK’s surprise it’s his dad’s voice. He didn’t even know his dad was in town.

“I think-I think you ask very good questions Owen Strand.” His mom answers. “I mean I have complete faith that he could do it, physically he’s there, mentally he’s there – “

“But – “ His dad asks and the long pause that follows makes his gut twist uncomfortably. But what?

“Emotionally I think he’s getting there,” Gwyn finally says, “Alex may have set him back a little bit.”

Alex? Why would they be talking about Alex? Why were they talking about him at all?

“Doing a show would get him out of New York, might be good for him, a way to move on?”

“Yes, but to do a show in Las Vegas of all the places, and a love story at that, especially this love story.” His mom reasons, pouring out all her concerns at once.

He hears a small amused scoff from his dad. “He’s a grown man Gwyn, surely he’s come to terms with the divorce by now.”

“I’m sure he has but it’s a bit more complicated than that, he’s always loved love but it’s never been very kind to him in return.”

“Maybe this time it will be.” Owen urges. “It’s an opportunity to start over, to try again.”

There is a long pause. TK debates whether he should round the corner to the kitchen, back track to his room or stay put in hopes of more information. His dad was talking about a show. It had been a long time since he performed although he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to get back at it. Nothing really compared when your old day job title could be simplified to circus performer.

“He always did love Neon, it would be nice for him to have that back.” Her voice is wistful now but his gut clenches once more at the name.

Neon. As is Neon, Neon. The old Cirque show he’s spent hours of his young life absorbed in? The show where his parents fell in love both in real life and in front of the audience every night? They wanted him to be a part of that Neon.

“So you think I should ask him?” Owen asks.

“I think you already did, good morning TK.” TK flinches. She knew he was there the whole time. He’s not surprised, his mom always could see through walls, but damn does he wish he could have had a minute longer to process everything.

[castlebyersafterdark]

Hello babes ❤️😊 I often journal about my day to day, and do a lot of write-ups about major events, things weighing on my mind, or retrospectives. The turning of the New Year is as good an event as any to write and reflect, so I'm posting a CastleByersAfterDark themed journal online to my dear blog to start off 2025. Thoughts, thanks, and resolutions/goals:

FANDOM

The last year has been such a game changer. I wasn't having very much fun online anymore which was bothersome for me, since fandom and nerding out over stuff I'm into has been one of main hobbies since I was really young. I still was massively invested in Stranger Things but felt stagnant and burnt out as all I was doing was scrolling and reading and was kinda bored. Found a few blogs on the "spicy" side and the gossip side and lurked with intrigue and envy. Tired of watching and never interacting, I created The Castle and joined all the fine folks I admired. My maelstrom of an imagination finally had a place to process and settle again.

This blog took on a life of its own - where I thought I would use it to simply track ideas for wips and maybe converse with other writers, I never anticipated this interactive space where we can all hang out and chat and share secrets and be totally open at our pseudo, perpetual sleepover online with friends both named and anonymous, from all over the globe. The content might get strange or emotional or filthy or silly here, but I never feel alone in letting my nerdom or freak flag fly and I hope many of you feel the love I certainly feel here and enjoy joining in and doing the same. Fandom feels a lot different than it did when I was thirteen years old, but this corner of the fandom has captured that old school magic. Creativity and freedom and connection.

In 2025, I look forward to this wonderful show we love airing and getting to experience the final season after immense anticipation. I eagerly await watching our beloved Will and Mike play out their beautiful storyline on screen. I am excited for all of the mysteries to unravel and finally be understood and to discover which theories were correct and what none of us could have predicted. I'm anticipatory about seeing a slow burn romance play out and pay off between two boys in an unexpected era and to feel joy and catharsis from a storyline I did not expect in a mainstream show. I look forward to the fun and peace to follow once the truth is finally known without a shred of doubt. I don't plan on going anywhere. Going to be a long year. And nebulous time after. Looking forward to continuing to theorize and draft ideas and hear visions and gab about the actors and Byler. I have so many stories to post. Incredibly happy to be here hanging out with yall. ❤️🫂🫶

REALITY

Something... major... happened to me this past year. Hmm. Wonder what that was? Oh, right. That man of mine decided I'm ok enough and put a ring on it. Hahaha I kid, you all know by now that we are madly in love 😉 2025 I will be married! Gosh. It's been months. Still cannot believe.

We're getting married in the summer and I'm also leaving the country for the first time for our honeymoon. Excited, nervous, filled with joyous anticipation. I always wanted to be someone's boyfriend - check. Found my absolute perfect person and we've helped each other become better people and be the best versions of ourselves. Soon, I will be and have a husband which is the most surreal thing, to have each found our The One, our soulmate. Mentally, I'm telling teenage me "you'll never believe what happens - everything you dream about comes true. Hold on for me, bud." 💙💙

RESOLUTIONS/GOALS

Write more. FINISH writing projects. Stay creative. Practice practice practice art. Continue to strive to be kind. And be kinder to myself. Be more present in real life and ensure time spent on hobbies is time spent worthwhile. Have fun and stay out of discourse. Never stop learning and enjoying the pursuit of knowledge.

Follow the colors as mantra. 🏳️‍🌈 Sex 💗 life ❤️ healing 🧡 sunlight 💛 nature 💚magic and art 💙 serenity 💜 spirit 💖 PEACE AND LOVE TO ALL FOR 2025 😘😘😘

[bethpencilart]

Have some sketches I made the last couple of months since discovering Moral Orel

I did some doodles before this to learn how to draw Orel and this was my first attempt at drawing him in my style. I also drew Christina.

I love Stephanie, so I made a page dedicated to her. The flag is supposed to be the lesbian flag. I decided that I should also draw some of the other adult characters. From left to right: Bloberta, Clay, Reverend Putty, Miss Censordoll, Principal Fakey, and Miss Sculptham. I had a theme with the right page, the adults of Moralton that should be role models for Orel but constantly let him down /lh

Adult Swim canceling this show is my Roman Empire. They really canceled it before the main character could go through his entire arc. I made these design mainly to work on something else, but I'm happy to have made them. I have definitely been inspired by other designs fans have made, but I did try to be original. Also made one for Christina! She's kinda inspired by pastel goth cause I imagine her parents are more strict and wouldn't let her wear traditional goth attire. She's probably already pushing the line.

Finally, some OCs I made. I'm sorry. First two are friends for Christina, I wanted to do something more then make a female Doughy and I had fun making them. The second is an OC I designed for a fic that is currently a wip. Yes, I did have a fun time creating the punny names.

Laika Lyukanida is Christina's childhood best friend. She is a second-generation Russian-American, her grandfather defected the USSR and moved to the US. I wrote that he was KGB, but I'm thinking that him being a spy makes more sense. I thought it would be funny for her to quote her grandfather sometimes and it being obvious that the quote was about his previous work, but neither her or Christina recognize it.

She is more resistant to Christina's chaotic plans, but she always finds herself working on them anyway. She has an interest in science and is often sneaking in the library against her family's wishes. As she grows older, she probably becomes more agnostic but keeps it a secret. Her first name is mainly a reference to the claymation studio, but I imagine in universe she was named after the dog that made it to space. Her last name is a reference to an old stop motion film from Russia.

Komugi Nendo Jingorō is Christina's friend who has a friendly rivalry on who's the better Christian. She is unfortunately very aware of how much her and her family are outcasts due to being Japanese in a mostly white protestant town. Christina and Laika are her closest friends due to them being more accepting of her. Laika understands what it's like for her name to be constantly mispronounced and relates to her. Christina's parents, much like Orel's, are racist and she has to keep their friendship a secret from them.

Her first and middle name is a reference to flour clay. It's a type of clay that children play with, and I thought it would be a cute name for a kid character. Her last name is both a reference to an old Japanese artist known for working with clay, and a reference to a stop motion short film that is about the same guy.

Will Plasticine is a gay florist in Christina's hometown. He grew up there, and when he turned 18, he ran away from his parents to go to college out of state. He met Stephanie there and they immediately became friends due to them being able to relate with growing up closeted in a very religious environment. She made one of her first tattoos on him, a pink triangle on his upper arm. He opened a shop in his hometown once he finished college, but he still has contact with Stephanie and sometimes they visit each other.

His first name isn't a pun or a reference, his last name is a reference to material used for claymation, especially earlier on. I thought it would be funny to make him a florist to Stephanie's tattoo artist, ie the florist and tattoo artist au thing. Obviously it's not romantic, they're just good friend. I imagine he has a story that parallels the episode, "The Blessed Union", where Christina hears a sermon about how wives should treat their husbands and she becomes curious on what husbands should do for their wives and she ends up in his shop.

[majosullivan]

Works in Progress and Writing Ideas

At the moment, I have a bunch of different writing ideas that have been building up in my notes. Some are new, some are older, but they are piling up and I want to make an attempt to get through them. Problem is: I haven’t been the best at consistently working through them and need an additional source of motivation to help me get through them. As a result, I’ve decided to make a post listing all my ideas, since from my experiences, putting something solid out there can help me lightly bully myself into working since ‘you have already put it out there that you’re working on these, you’re going to feel real stupid for you don’t do anything’. Mostly importantly, I would love to hear people’s ideas and thoughts, both since I have been stuck on certain points, so hearing some outside thoughts would be beneficial , and being able to talk with people and possibly answer some questions people are curious about would also help with motivation.

So, feel free to talk about or add on anything you’d like! Whether it’s in replies, reblogs or my asks, I don’t mind

Castle Swimmer Ideas

-Theory post on the season 3 finale (currently in the works)

-Siren and Mono having a talk about relationships after Siren inadvertently finds out that Mono has a big old crush on Galoo

-Monoloo, with Galoo thinking back to a conversation she had with Shoal where Susca was brought up

-Playing around with Susca and Shoal’s potential dynamic before they got married because they make me feel things

-Mono, Neth and an exploration of their relationship with Mucku and each other after Labbu’s attack

-Vampire/Supernatural au that has been plaguing my brain for far too long

-Hades (game) au that has also been plaguing my brain for a while

Nevermore Ideas

-Reeking Rememberance (Working title)

Featuring: A main focus on two characters, some exploration into the experiences the Nevermore students must be going through with their missing memories and how well they’re coping with it all

(I am currently in the middle of working on this one. As a result, I won’t be going into the characters involved. This is so when I hopefully finish it (and it doesn’t end up stuck in WIP jail), it can be a surprise)

-Exploration with Duke and his use of names, both with names connected to himself, and more centrally to this work, his continuous use nicknames for everyone. It’s all fun and games for him until the man he’s been calling ‘Mon minou’ playfully calls him Fortunato a singular (1) time, and while external he’s mostly holding face, the same can’t be said internally because ohhhh this fucker is GONE

-Interpretation of what happened with Berenice and Eulalie before they met the others (spoiler alert: the sapphics will be sapphicing a little)

-Analysis into Annabel and her similarities with the misfits (main focus on similarities with Duke and Pluto) along with a possible series of one shots where I could have fun with those dynamics

-The time between Lenore’s and Annabel’s first meeting to Annabel having to leave from Annabel’s perspective, using inspiration from Absence by Rio Romeo

-Exploring the dynamic between Annabel and Ada, with Ada asking Annabel about her engagement

-Misfit polycule shenanigans in a modern au, with a focus on Lenore as she slowly discovers the relationships that have literally been right in front of her

-Life is Strange au that I’ve been slowly trying to cook up

[romaine2424]

For the Love of WIPs (Drarry style)

There's a lot of things I miss about LJ, but right up there was the weekly posting of the H/D Prophet run by @sassy-cissa and groovelover at the conclusion. It began posting in 2005 and It stopped posting in 2021. I know it was a ton of work for the mods to run it, but it truly kept Drarry fandom informed of all the one-shot fics, art released that week, and chapter updates for current Drarry WIPs, recs, etc... Also listed were the fests and what state they were in. Take a look at the links I posted above and see all the goodness. It was very centralized. *sigh happy times*

What made me think of this was I love reading Drarry WIPs but keep finding recent chapter fics that I missed while being posted and only found them completed and others that I'm currently reading but found by chance.

So, I thought I'd share the WIPs I'm keeping track of and those that have been completed recently that I've read.

Notes: Most WIPs (chapter fics) are long fics (over 50K and up to 1M). There are readers that see some lengths of completed fics and wince. That is one reason why chapters are often released weekly or whenever, so you have digestible amounts (5-15K). Sometimes as an author I feel in a Catch 22, readers don't have time to read long fics, but then won't read a WIP until completed. LOL

Below the cut are WIPs that I've read and that have been recently completed. I'll post ongoing WIPs that I'm reading tomorrow! I'm not listing the Warning and Tags for these fics as I'll leave that up for you to decide on what to read or not. But, there are a few here that do have strong warnings in the tags and/or Author Notes. One final note: I'm listing WIPs (chapter fics) that were posted over a time period, not completed chapter fics that were listed on one date as a whole. OMG this is a long post!

Recently completed Drarry WIPs

Passing Stranger (53K) by @lettersbyelise This just completed yesterday! I have 2 chapters left to read. :) Summary: Five years after the war, Harry, listless and depressed, stumbles upon Draco Malfoy playing the violin in an underground bar in Muggle London. The catch? Draco lost his memories five years ago. Ignoring his friends’ advice, Harry befriends an unwitting Draco, overlooking the fact that their mutual attraction might not survive if Draco’s memories return. Comment: Haven't quite finished but I love, love, the Draco in this fic. You could feel that this is Draco stripped of all the heavy responsibilities he grew up with including having a bigoted father. The tension is palpable with Harry being attracted to this Draco but feeling that Draco needs to be Draco Malfoy to move forward. *ugh*. 2. The Boy from the Piano Shop (90.5K) by @soliblomst completed 2/25/24. Summary: After going blind in a reckless attempt to avenge Ginny's death, Harry battles with severe depression. One day, he stumbles upon a quaint piano restoration shop in the heart of London and meets the owner, a kindly old man, and his introverted young apprentice, whose voice sounds strangely familiar. As Harry and Draco slowly reconnect through private piano lessons, the small workshop becomes Harry's refuge, offering him a glimmer of hope in a world without eyes. Set five years after the Battle of Hogwarts. Comment: I binged this fic bad!!! There is so much to love in this fic but one of the standouts is the OC Richard. You will love him, too. The gradual build up of Drarry is so well done. The dealing with Harry's depression is so raw and real. No cutting of corners. The ending was one of the best I've read in celebrating what is to come for Harry and Draco. And Draco, in the final scene will make you cry *happy tears*. 3. The Star Splitter (219K) by @oflights completed 3/22/24. Summary: On a routine time travel assignment to the past, Draco stumbles upon 7-year-old Harry Potter and witnesses his neglect and mistreatment by the Dursleys. In the moment, there is only one solution, even if it goes against all his training as a Time Agent: he has to bring Harry back to the future with him. In which Draco burns his life down for the sake of his former school rival. Comment: I think I followed this one from the start as I do everything @oflights! OMG the action, the tenseness, the magical lore, the worldbuilding, and the sweetness of Draco raising young Harry will have you banging that "next chapter" button. The Drarry in this happens slowly and has its ups and downs but so so worth the wait. The bond is strong and at the end and you will recognize and cheer for this Harry who says Fuck it all, I ain't letting this go.

4. Spotlight (All Eyes on Us) (58K) by @pixiedunhoff completed 3/15/24. This is the 5th and final installment of the Dark Arts to Dance Floor Series (317K) which began posting in July '23. Spotlight Summary: The spotlight can scorch.

“Has the wizarding world ever seen a couple quite like Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter? Though the pair remain frustratingly private and out of the spotlight, hardly ever seen in public together, our readers understandably demand to know more.

‘They’re happy together,’ Minister of Magic Hermione Granger exclusively tells the Prophet, before quickly ducking into a meeting for Squib Rights. ‘They’re so very happy.’”

- Daily Prophet, 2 February 2018 Comment: Pixie says in the notes, you may only need to read the 4th installment to completely get this fic, but hell, I say read them all. Pixie is newer to Drarry writing (longtime reader). I love the casualness and realness of the characters and how they interact. In Spotlight they so capture the feel of being backstage to a 'music rock star' (in the Muggle world) and on the rise in the magical one. As you're reading this fic, it might come across as being a lighter AU type fic, but don't be fooled there is much depth and layers upon layers to both Harry and Draco. Pixie just eases you into it. There were points that I just had to stop reading for a moment and digest exactly what was going on. Pixie will be on my Current WIP list, too! 5. Skybound (61K) by @xanthippe74 Summary: No matter how much Harry Potter wanted to believe he’d left danger behind when the war ended, it found him again anyway. All he had to do was step out his own front door on a Tuesday morning. A Drarry re-imagining of Howl’s Moving Castle.

Comment: I haven't finished this one, yet, but wanted to list it here. It's 6 chapters and I'm only 2 chapters in, but holy hell what world building and magical lore (and one very nasty curse). I'm not familiar with the original source, but that's okay. I'm very happy being carried along in one floating house! I'm a big fan of @xanthippe74 and am fully confident I'll love this as much as the author's other stories. Okay, I'll be back tomorrow with a list of currently posting Drarry WIPs, including two stinging hot A/B/Os, but in very different ways.

Enjoy!

Rom

[cruise-in-your-glow-bus]

Intro Post

Hey everyone. I'm Cruise. I write fic. Mostly for Ghost (the band) but it ain't my first fandom rodeo. My blog and writing are intended for adults. Minors, I love you, and I lied about my age too.

My Writing (so far)

As the Bridegroom to His Chosen (WIP | 8/10 chapters)

He's ascended to the highest peak of his career, reigned over the stage and screen as Papa Emeritus IV. Now, settling into his role as Frater Imperator (and all the duties that go along with it) will take some adjustment. Papa V is here. The Ghost project is running smoothly, more or less. Seeking solace and guidance for his new path, Frater Imperator intends to muse in prayerful solitude about his next instruction to please The Old One. Luckily enough, The Old One offers many gifts to His beloved servants, and although it might not initially compare to wobbling thousands of asses across the globe, our newly-ordained Frater gets one very special ass to wobble, all for himself. (Or, alternatively: You meet a stranger in the woods when your car breaks down during a sudden storm. Your life changes forever.)

A post-RHRN Prime Mover AU

Ghost Kinktober 2024 Scripture Memory Verse Award Winner (WIP | 26/?? chapters)

A tasteful charcuterie board of sinful temptations, including (but not limited to):

I Will Spit You Out of My Mouth aka Seminary Student Copia’s Heathen Bisexual Awakening (Copia/OMC; Wax Play; Temperature Play)

Being with a man is, as they say, a whole new world of undiscovered desire, and he’s not sure if he’s ready for that. He wants it, sure, but the way he wakes up flustered and achingly hard with the thought of just a look from the librarian.

Dwell Richly Within You aka a mid-concert quickie (Copia/OFC; Creampie)

“Inside,” he growls, and you feel the tension when you wrap your hands around his neck, the palpable need. 

Hatred Stirs Up Strife... aka Terzomega CNC Hate Sex

“I know you love me… But… what if you didn’t?”

Bless the House of Your Servant aka the one with the Suburban Dilf / Realtor roleplay, for Satanic reasons (Copia/OFC)

He glances up to the Live, Laugh, Love sign over the headboard, then back to me. “I’m just not sure it suits all of my needs.” My face heats; he has to know what this is doing to me, talking about his needs.  

And They Shall Be One Flesh aka the Historical Arranged Marriage First Night one (Secondo/OFC) and its follow up chapter, A Helper Comparable

“Who has struck you?” His voice was calm. “You cower before me like a whipped dog…” “Please,” I started to say, desperation evident in my voice. I didn’t even care that he’d called me a dog. “Please, I’ll… I’ll do whatever—“ “Who. Hurt. You?” “Don’t make me say it.” I shook my head, fear tightening in my chest. “Please don’t send me back.”

Suffer A Witch aka the Witch Hunt one where a difficult woman finally gets a good reward from all of the Papas

She was on the wrong side of thirty, and her chin had a stubborn set to it that screamed of her defiance.  She was loud. She was untamed. She was difficult. She had no man to give her headship. In short: She was a witch.

The Word at the Beginning aka the one where Copia is a Camp Director at a Christian youth camp, and wears short-shorts. (Copia/OFC; loss of virginity; purity culture)

God, I pray, please. I don’t want to feel like this. It’s wrong to feel like this. If this is Your will, then give me the strength to pass this test, all for Your glory.  ...why would God make me this way, so full of desire and need, for someone I know I can’t have?  Or is this God at all? Is this Satan, tempting me to sin?  And if it is Satan, then why is God so silent? With a bitter laugh I feel grateful, at least, that God hasn’t decided to kill my whole family just to prove a point about my faithfulness, like He did to Job.  Kind of a dick move, really.  Instantly, I amend that thought with another prayer: Forgive me, I trust in you, I’m sorry…

And other one-shots. I will be finishing this when Bridegroom is complete.

I also take fic prompts/requests!

Okay bye!

[prepare4trouble]

So, after my post about finding old fic, I decided to make a post, of fanfics I’ve loved over the years. I thought maybe other people might enjoy them too.

It’s not a complete list, there are a lot of other fics that aren’t in the list, mainly because I have and have had favourites saved all over the place, and I’ve got still more that I probably haven’t remembered. I’ll add more later.

All of these are complete, I haven’t included WIPS as much as I have some I loved, I doubt they will ever be finished now. Maybe I’ll add them later too, with warnings of course.

Most of these are pretty long. They are all ones I’ve gone back and read over and over, some though, I haven’t read in years, so maybe they’re not as good as I remember. Hopefully they are though.

This list is mainly for my own benefit, but I hope someone else gets some enjoyment out of these too, and please feel free to reblog and add your own faves.

So, in no particular order:

Cruel Necessity by Epona Harper - Real Ghostbusters fanfic. 79k words.

Summary: An attack on Peter has far-reaching repercussions.

No Little Charity by Perspi - House MD fanfic. 37351 words.

Summary: It was an old ritual, old magic from before the world had rational explanations and cold science. Cold science had failed House; Wilson had nothing left to try but this. (You need to be logged in to view this one)

Tarred and Feathered by Crydamoure - Good Omens fanfic. 75735 words.

Summary: It was the most obvious punishment. The Archangel created to carry Her voice suddenly rendered mute.

(Gabriel falls, personally inconveniencing Beelzebub)

One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster) by Atalan - Good Omens fanfic. 10452 words.

Summary: "All right, I know I'm going to regret asking this," Aziraphale says. "What exactly does this wager entail?"

Crowley grins like the cat that not only got the cream but has absconded with the entire cow. He grabs the bottle and swigs straight from it despite Aziraphale's tut of disapproval.

 "The pot goes to whichever demon can get an angel into bed by the end of the evening."

 AKA The Fic That Tumblr Made Me Write. Heaven and Hell share a corporate party once per millennium. This time someone's had the bright idea of issuing a challenge to the demons of Hell. Crowley has no intention of missing the opportunity; Aziraphale's just enough of a bastard to make him work for it

Eclipse by AconitumNapellus - Star Trek TOS fanfic. 82773 words.

Summary: Spock is blinded in an explosion on the Enterprise and relocates to Earth for his rehabilitation. While he grows used to his new world and finally returns to the Enterprise, he and the crew must find out if the explosion was an accident, or terrorism.

(This one is part of a series, but you can get to the others from this one)

Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm. Good Omens fanfic. 99423 words.

Summary: As soon as Aubrey Thyme, psychotherapist, had opened her office door and seen her new client, Anthony J. Crowley, sitting in her waiting area, she was observing and assessing him. At first glance, she paid attention to the following:

--His clothing was expensive and stylish;
--He wore very strange but noticeable cologne;
--His relationship to the seat he occupied could only, very loosely, be described as “sitting;”
--He looked angry;
--He was wearing sunglasses.

What Aubrey Thyme, a professional, thought, upon first seeing her new client was: you’re going to be a fun one, aren’t you?

The Manipulation of Julian Bashir By The Tystie. Star Trek DS9 fanfic. 218000 words

SUMMARY: When you have lived a lie for over half your life, how do you cope when the truth comes out? A story about Julian Bashir, set in season 5.

[queen-tashie]

Happy Storyteller Saturday! I'd love to hear about your earliest writing attempts! How old you were when you started writing, what you wrote about, the first story you finished, etc... feel free to ramble on :)

Happy Storyteller Saturday!

My absolute earliest writing was way back somewhere between grade 2 and 4 (ages 7-9ish). I tried writing my own episode of Pokemon as a picture book. (I thiiiink my parents still have it somewhere, I kind of want to take a look at it again).

I didn't really write much back then, I was more into drawing line art and making OCs that way. When I got to grade 4 or 5ish I stopped reading on my own almost completely, besides an occasional book or two, and I was more likely to read non-fiction to learn about animals (like sharks. I really like sharks.). I think as I stopped reading I also stopped writing, because I didn't start reading for pleasure again until I was 15. And then suddenly I started writing again.

Around then I mostly read YA fantasy in my free time, so I started writing a story about dragons (two brother dragons, Valdore and Arian, their father Failias, and their mother S... something with an S at least. (I could literally check this right now but I just had a huge meal and I'm feeling sluggish haha). Ok it was bugging me not knowing and I got up to look for it (and it took like 5 minutes instead of the 10 seconds I thought it would lol) and her name was Sarhina. I attempted this story a couple times but was fully pantsing it, not really sure which direction to go in. I wrote about three or four very, very short chapters before I started writing something else. Valdore was one of the OCs I had come up with back in elementary school, I think as young as 6 years old, so I was still happy that I attempted writing a story about him.

The next story I wanted to write was a futuristic apocalypse story where the main characters fought demons as they came out at dawn. This one I progressed even less than the dragon story, the OCs were much newer. Originally I had called this story Survival of the Fittest, then I changed the premise completely to the main characters either appearing in a new world or already living there (I suppose it was a genre change to a portal fantasy). I kept some of the apocalyptic vibes the same, the world had time seasons that went through the life and death of the ecosystem and structures on the land, then back to rebirth. One season was new growth, buildings were small but structurally sound, even people felt refreshed. Another season was abundance, buildings were large and had character to them, people felt their best and were at their strongest. The third season was scarcity and death, buildings crumbled from age, people were struggling to survive. Then it would start again with the rebirth of the land. Again, didn't really know where I was going with this story but the world building was much better developed than the first.

Somewhere in between both of these stories in my teens, I wrote some more Pokemon fanfic that I had started to share on DeviantArt.

There were also a half dozen or so other WIPs that I had started and didn't get further than a paragraph or two. For some reason I deleted many of these :(

Then the first novel-length story I ever finished is (BEING RELEASED TOMORROW!!!!) The Quiet Forest. Runnicka is an old OC from my elementary school drawings (though she's changed since then, I happened to get an ask earlier today that reminded me of this). It took me 11 years to finish writing it (from drafting to giving up and redrafting to finally writing my first outline to finishing the actual first draft, then many, many edits), plus a year to query over 100 agents. It's the longest I've ever stuck to anything before, and so it's been a huge accomplishment finishing it, finishing querying, and now deciding to share it online (more about the story here).

I've had a series of smaller writing wins (ie finished stories) before The Quiet Forest was finished, though! I wrote about 10 flash fictions in 2020, some that I'd like to revisit and edit to better match my current writing skill level. One of them is already ready to read on my AO3 account! And last year I wrote over 80k words between two first drafts for two separate novels, and two finished short stories, one a Legend of Dragoon fanfic (also on my AO3), and another that I wrote as a writing sample for a contract writing position (almost got in but there were hundreds of entries and only about 5 or 6 spots), but I am working to get it published! And speaking of publishing, in 2023 I got randomly inspired to write All You Hear Is My Voice which got published early this year. It's a sci fi/speculative romance where a lonely queer man has reverse telepathy--instead of hearing everyone's thoughts, he's involuntarily projecting every thought he has into the minds of others nearby. Makes it hard for him to meet understanding people, and even harder to date. The thing that makes it sci fi is that it takes place on Mars :)

[storybycorey]

From Deep Within storybycorey's WIP Files

I've recently discovered various snippets of WIPs that I'd somewhat forgotten about, so I'm going to start publishing them. Some of these are more recent (2-3 years ago?) and some are from much longer ago. I make no promises of ever finishing them, but thought it would be fun to release them!

No clue where this next one came from. I assume it was a sex scene I wrote for an existing fic but then I must have decided to go in a different direction. Who knows? Not me! It must be fairly old because it's written in 1st person, which I only did in the very beginnings of my writing 'career', which also accounts for the less than stellar writing style. But hey, it's porn, so I figure that makes up for it.

.

.

But then he slows to a stop.  “Wha…?” I whimper desperately, grasping at his shoulders.

“Shhhh, hold on,” he says.

He flips us over so that I’m now on top, lying against his heated chest.  “Oh!” is my startled reply as I prop myself up with my arms on his shoulders.

He grabs hold of my hips and grinds them against his own, then says, “Show me, Scully,…. show me what you like….”

“Mulder, I don’t…, ” I sputter.

“Show me…,” he interrupts me before I can even finish.  And then, still inside me, he arches his hips.

I grunt, surprised.  My body responds before I can even think, and I undulate right back against him.

“Yeah,” he rasps, ”…just like that…”

I grip his shoulders and begin to slowly rock, rolling my hips with every thrust so that his cock will rub against my clit.  So good. It’s so good. 

He fills his hands with the flesh of my ass, squeezes.  My breasts lift and sway with my movements and he stares, lips slack.  His awe-filled expression would be comical if it weren’t so erotic, if it didn’t turn me on so damn much.  I move more aggressively, arch my back just to watch what he does.

“Touch them…,” I beg, aching for him.

He looks me in the eye. “No,” he denies me, “Show me first.”

I gasp.  My God.

“I want to see, Scully,” he urges, “Show me what makes you feel good”. 

His hips are still gently thrusting as I take my hands from his shoulders and sit up.  What makes me feel good… He makes me feel good. But I know what he’s asking. I know what he’s fantasized about the last seven years, the things we thought would never happen but finally did.

I nod. He grunts in encouragement.

I want to give him what he wants.  I want to show him. 

My eyes slip closed, and I lick my lips. He bucks slightly beneath me, squeezes my hipbones with his thumbs. Then I slowly draw my hands up my body.  From knees to thighs, then my fingertips over his thumbs at my hips.   Across my belly to circle around my navel.  Then finally, I tickle along my ribs until I’m cupping the undersides of my breasts, flirting with the him, lifting them towards him in offering.

My God, I can’t believe how much this is turning me on.  The thought that he’s watching me tease myself like this is unbelievably erotic.  I allow my eyes to slip open briefly, to see him watching me.  His eyes are dark and hooded, his lower lip slack and wet.

He watches my hands, waiting for me to take the last step, and I feel the pace of his thrusts slow in anticipation.  I’ve never felt like this before. Jesus, my skin is so sensitized right now, so hungry for touch. I trace slowly along the curves beneath my breasts with my middle fingers, back and forth, back and forth, rolling my hips at the same pace against him.

“Scu…,” he breathes, mesmerized.

Finally, I can’t stand the tease anymore, and I allow myself to cup their fullness, squeezing the soft flesh, kneading it. And oh, it’s glorious. My head falls back on my neck and I groan at the sensation. 

“Jesus!” he grunts, bucking up hard beneath me.

I try to imagine what Mulder feels when he touches me.  As I knead, I notice how soft my breasts are, I pay attention to the wonderful, sexy weight they’ve got to them. My head rolls on my neck in pleasure. By the time I circle closer to my nipples, he’s panting. I touch my areolas first, the skin even softer there—so sensitive. My back arches in anticipation as I tease myself. God, him watching changes everything.

I can’t take it anymore; I finally give in. I pinch my nipples and roll them between my forefingers and thumbs. My hips buck at the sensation, and we both groan. I tug them gently away from my body before letting them snap back. I do it again. And again and again.  With my knuckles, I brush softly over their tips, alternating between this and pinching them between the webbing of my fingers. It’s too much, it’s not enough, it’s just so, so good.

Mulder grips my hips and grinds me harder down against him. I’d lose my balance, but he holds me steady, does all the work for us where we’re joined so that I can continue with what I’m doing above. I start to feel frenzied, out of control. I pinch my nipples harder, twist and tug them more roughly. He growls beneath me, snaps his hips so erratically, I finally lose my battle with balance and fall forward, dropping my hands from my breasts to brace myself against the sheets.  

I needn’t worry though, because immediately one of my breasts is in his mouth and the other in is hand, picking up right where I left off. What finally drives me over the edge are his teeth—gentle but nipping, taking what’s left of my sanity and tossing it away.  I fall against his chest, mouth wet and open at his shoulder, my desperate whines muffled against his skin. He follows me over the edge just moments later, fingers clutching at my back so hard they’ll leave bruises.

[renabe4life]

As I start physio for my wrist, I've been thinking now's a good time to reread some wips and decide which one I might try to work on first once I have less pain from all these exercises. I also thought it might be fun to do a poll to see which fics folks wanna see updated soonest:

Propaganda (read: current wip status) below the cut!

Take Root- the modern AU of two old men supporting each other and learning to grow around their scars. The bulk of chapter 17 is written. There is one small scene I need to add, and one other scene needs some serious editing before it is ready to post. We're hitting a big emotional beat in this one, so I want to get it right.

Ebb- feesh lad! aka the mer AU that wasn't supposed to become a chaptered fic, but alas Qrow decided to have some secrets that need time and trust to reveal. There is enough written to call it a chapter, but... I gotta figure out what's bothering me about it and fix it, along with general editing that needs doing. A fun little reveal in this one, plus a cagey bird who flusters a lot.

Stop-Off- the camping AU meet-cute featuring widdol Yang and Rubes (and their mom being a complete menace while dad is oblivious). Chapter 2 is about three quarters of the way written. It needs at least a scene at the end to finish out the day, with a little editing needed on what's already written. Cloves is having a bit of a crisis at the start of this one, followed by Qrow having one in the second half lmao.

Distraction- the two part hurt/comfort plus spice recovery fic. Very little written for the second and final chapter. It is going to require a delicate balance to keep the tone I want throughout those heated moments. Depending on the vibes, I could bang this out in a feverish trance or take forever on it- hard to say!

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Hell's Belle ||

Outlaw Frank Castle x Saloon girl reader

Tags/warnings: sex worker reader, oral (f rec), p in v unprotected sex (wrap it B4 you tap it!), blood, bit of angst, mention of death, mentions of canon typical violence, fluff.

W/c ~ 5300

A/n: thank you to @e-dubbc11 who showed me gunslinger Punisher art and had me cranking this out ahead of all my other wips! Huge thanks to @stress--relief for beta reading! If you enjoy my writing please comment/reblog it would be much appreciated! 💕

You finish rolling up your stockings, smoothing the band of silk and lace neatly over your thigh before arranging your dress, then you dab on the lightest touch of rouge and perfume before it's time to work.

As you descend the staircase to the bar you feel the eyes are on you as usual, men and a few women too. Among them are those belonging to a man dressed hat to boots in black, sitting in the corner of the bar with Billy. He'd been in here for the past few nights, stealing looks when he thought you didn't notice, but you noticed everything. It was a survival skill in this environment. You could tell so much about a person by the clothes they wore, how they carried themselves, who they spoke to and what they drank. It paid to be perceptive and aware of the little things, if you missed the subtle way a man was about to reach for his weapon, things could get very dangerous. Everything about this particular fella screamed danger, and even seated you could tell he was big. He had stubble on his jaw you could strike a match on and yet he hadn't yet worked up the cojones to try his luck with you. Or maybe women just weren't his thing.

You take your seat at the bar and Josie hands you a drink as you cross one leg over the other, getting comfortable.

As the evening draws on you shoo away the sleezy advances of the normal punters, but you can't help note that the newcomer has barely taken his eyes from you all night. You were used to it, you had that effect on people. All of the girls in Hell's Belles were sweet, but you were the sweetest, a gilded lily if there ever was one. You were in demand, your reputation surpassed you, and you were therefore able to charge whatever you wanted for a night in your chamber, and could afford to be fussy with who you let in.

However, tonight Mr Tall, Dark and Menacing finally decided to approach the bar and so you prepared yourself for the usual shit you had to endure from outlaws and so-called sharpshooters who thought they could walk in and take whatever they wanted. 

He was in for a shock.

"Buy you a drink, miss?" His voice is deep and thick, like gravel mixed with molasses, and at this close distance your first impression that he was handsome was not wrong, although in a rugged and rough kind of way, with a nose that you'd wager had been broken more than once.

"You can buy me a drink, but don't think it'll get you anywhere, mister. I've seen you sitting with Billy Russo, and I don't doubt he's told you I don't just lift my skirts and lay down for any old gunslinger."

Frank nods politely. "That he did miss, but uh, if you pardon me, nobody said we gotta be layin' down…"

He's bold, and smooth, you'll give him that. He might have even raised a tiny smile from you with that cheeky remark, but still you roll your eyes.

"Whatever the lady's having." He says to the barmaid.

"Charge him for a double, Josie." You add.

"Thank you ma'am." Frank says as he passes his last wad of notes to Josie without any reluctance, tiling his head to the side. "Any reason, or you just like messin' with strangers?"

"As I said, you're with Billy, and he's on my shit list so you get to suffer too."

"What'd he do, if you don' mind me askin'?"

'He talks too damn much."

At that Frank chuckles, raising his tumbler. "Ain't that the truth. Boy definitely has a mouth on 'im."

"Mm." You look him up and down unashamedly. "I get the feeling you're more of the strong, silent type."

"Maybe. Could be whatever you want me to be Miss." Frank rumbles and you decide that you like his attitude. You're not giving over so easily though. You sigh and take a sip of your drink. "How about gone? You can't afford me."

"S'funny, I was thinkin' of knocking over a bank this week, that change anythin'?" Frank proposes, despite your thorny exterior he's not lost one iota of confidence.

You laugh. "Oh you're very funny, mister…?"

"Castle. Frank Castle." He offers his hand and you place your empty glass in it.

He gestures to Josie for a refill. "M'serious though, s'why I'm in town. Got some business to take care of." He's got an edge to his look, a hint of something heavy hanging over him.

You nod towards the twin pistols that hang from either side of his chest.

"That kinda business? Those are some big guns you've got there mister Castle."

"The size don't matter sweetheart, it's knowin' how to use em, but I'll warrant you know all about that."

"Mm, careful with the 'sweethearts' Castle, I'm not yours yet, and sadly I'm rarely impressed." You reply with a shortness.

"Apologies Miss, but maybe you look out from your balcony at dawn tomorrow if you want your proof."

You shake your head and smile. "Hmm, it's gotta be a damn special man that'll make me get out of bed before dawn."

Frank's mouth quirks up at the side and he tips his hat as he finishes his drink, pushing off the bar. "Maybe. S'been a pleasure talkin' with you Miss. G'night."

His drawl settles deep within you bringing with it a hint of heat and you curse yourself, hoping he'll prove your doubts wrong that he's a drifter just like any other, that he'll actually be worth the gamble. Or at least worth losing a lie in. You could do with the money after all.

You prop your chin up on your hand on the bar. "C'mon Jose, spill."

Josie gives you a knowing look as she leans across to share what she knows. Josie hears everything. "Well, he's an outlaw, but you knew that already."

You click your tongue. "Yeah, and? Surely you've heard some talk."

"Mm. Word is he's an outlaw that's been killin' other outlaws, maybe just for the money, or revenge. Dunno what he's gettin' revenge for though."

You glance over your shoulder to where Russo is laughing heartedly but Castle isn't giving away any emotion.

"Careful honey, that there's a rough road you don't wanna go down. He might be charmin' but he sounds like bad news. I heard some folks call him The Punisher."

When you eventually retire for the night you find you can't rid your mind of him, and you're up and pulling on your silk robe before the first rays of the sun break above the horizon. 

The air on the balcony is blessedly cool and the street mostly empty but then you see a few figures gathering on the dirt road, one of them an unmistakeable tall, dark silhouette. They talk for a while and then Frank Castle and his dueling opponent slowly walk to opposing ends of the street.

The air grows tense as they stand there, ready, waiting for the signal to draw. When it comes everything moves like lightning. It's over so quickly, Frank's coat swirls around his legs along with the dust cloud he's kicked up as he spun around. Your gaze flits to the other end of the street and you see his opponent is still standing, but his pistols have been shot straight out of his hands and lie on the ground.

Billy is down there too, laughing and demanding that the other bystander pay up a wager. You watch Frank holster his own pistols, a shiver of a thrill climbing up your spine as he turns to look up towards your window, subtly tipping his hat because he knew you'd be there watching. Of course he knew, and now you're even more intrigued to see if he'll approach you again later tonight, and put his money where his mouth is.

Sure enough that night he walks up to the bar beside you and orders a full bottle of whiskey. 

"Fine evenin', Miss." He says, tipping his hat. You accept the glass that he slides over to you and then stand up, your heels clicking as you cross the wooden floor to the stairs.

"You can bring the bottle." You call over your shoulder.

He follows after a beat, shooting a look towards Billy who just shakes his head in disbelief.

"Yes ma'am."

You're sitting on the edge of the bed when he knocks and enters, removing his hat and coat and hanging them on the hook on the back of the door. 

"Like what you saw this mornin', Miss?"

"Maybe. Are you always that flashy?"

The ghost of a smile appears on his grizzled face. "Nah, just a bit of fun. 'sides, it got me here didn't it?"

You walk over to him, standing close, sliding your hands over his black waistcoat and shirt and then down to his harness, releasing his guns from their soft leather holsters and pulling them out. They're a nice weight in your hands and you notice the handles are expertly inlaid with tiny white skulls bright against the ebony.

"Wanted to see if you can handle a woman as well as you handle these." You invite, placing them down gently on your bureau. He grabs you then and you gasp as he holds you fast, one strong arm wrapped around your waist and the other sliding into your hair as he allows his dark brown gaze to roam over you. You heat up instantly at his gall.

"Ain't gonna rush this." He says, before dipping his head to kiss you. Despite all appearances his lips are pillowy soft and slow against your own. He's right, he's in no rush but you open up for him a little as his tongue lightly trails the seam of your mouth. He kisses at your bottom lip, tugs on it just enough to get you to release a pained sound, and then he's kitten licking, teasing the taste of him as your hands snake up around his thick neck and shoulders to pull him closer. You want more.

He lifts you up easily, walking you to the bed and setting you down to sit on the edge again and you watch him, feeling yourself grow wet between your thighs as he steps back and carefully rolls up his sleeves.

"What happened to not needing to lay down?" You ask as he gently persuades you down onto your back. He hikes up your dress skirts, sliding his big hands with surety up your legs, bunching the fabric around your hips. He has a darkness and hunger in his eyes and it scares and arouses you in equal measure.

"I told ya Miss. Gonna take my time. May I?" He gestures to your skimpy underclothes and you nod, lifting your hips as he gently pulls your soaked frilly knickers down your legs and throws them aside. He gets down on his knees on the rug and your heart is thumping hard against your bustier. It's not so often that a man will go down on you for your pleasure alone, and this man, this dark brooding beast, looks like he's waited all his days to do just that.

His hands smooth up the outsides of your thighs over your silky stockings and grip your waist as he carefully pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. You sigh deeply as he spreads your legs apart. 

"I gotta say Miss… you're a true beauty. The sweetest balm for the eyes." He licks his lips and it's all you can do to moan long and loud as he puts his sweet-talking mouth to work on you. He knows exactly what he's doing, pushing all of your proverbial buttons and driving out the most desperate sounds that you've ever heard yourself make. He licks and laps, sucks on your clit and fucks you so damn good with just his mouth and tongue, but your pussy aches with need and so you paw for his hand, urging him to slip his fingers in. There's a rumble deep in his throat as he covers two thick digits in your slick and slowly pushes them in your entrance, stretching you just a little.

"Mmm, oh fuck, just like that…"

"Yeah?" The low tone of his voice makes your cunt squeeze around his fingers and he watches you react. "Y'like that Miss?" He asks eagerly as he starts to curl his fingers, stroking your inner walls in a way that has you panting for breath as you feel your orgasm being easily teased from you.

"Yeah, that's it girl," he rasps, "let it go."

You cry out, your back arching. He holds your legs apart with his free hand as you shake, trying to close them on him but he makes you come, leaning back down and flicking his fucking insanely dexterous tongue over your sensitive clit as you fall apart, clenching around him over and over until he finally slows and stops, leaving you a breathless mess.

You watch him as he gets to his feet, licking his fingers and lips with an admittedly well deserved satisfaction. He takes a sip of whiskey and offers you one too, before he sets it aside to unbutton his waistcoat and shirt. When you were close you could feel that he was built, but seeing him unclothed from the waist up had you drinking every chiseled inch of muscle in with a deep thirst.

You tugged at the bow to your bodice lacing, loosening it and turning so he could unwrap you. He said he was gonna take his time, and take his sweet time he does. He kisses every inch of your skin he exposes with reverence, repeating his praise of your beauty until you are naked but for your stockings. You push him back against the wall running your fingers through his hair, scratching your nails over his jaw as you kiss your way down his neck and broad chest. Your hand slides lower still, feeling every ridge and dip of muscle until he hisses and groans when you palm over his hard confined length. 

"It's how you use it," you squeeze and he makes a gruff sound. "So use it." 

He untangles himself from you only to strip off his boots and britches in a hot second, and then he's spinning you around, taking hold of your leg, lifting it up and sliding himself inside your slick heat with a grunt. You moan with the relief you feel as he fills you. He's perfect, hitting your spot as he thrusts into you slow and steady, like he could keep this up all night long if you asked him to. Your teeth graze along his collarbone as he fucks you up against the wall, his own pleasure quiet and restrained while you let the whole Kitchen know that some lucky guy is ringing the queen of the bordello's bell.

You wake up late, alone, sore but sated. The covers had been pulled up around your shoulders and you stretch out your body contentedly, until the realisation hits you that you hadn't taken any money from him.

Fuck. 

You usually made your clients pay it up front but he had you so distracted… 

When you roll over to push yourself up you freeze. There's a sizable stack of notes sitting there on your nightstand, way more than you were planning to charge when you counted them. You'd have to take it to your stash soon, it wasn't wise to have that much money laying around on the premises. 

Frank Castle had proved himself, in more ways than one, and the girls were quick to grill you about him when you went to bathe. 

"So, you survived, and how was he?" Madani smirks as you settle into the tub.

You can't stop the sly smile from spreading across your lips. "Thorough." 

Karen laughs. "Yeah we kinda noticed you're late up, you never sleep in!"

You sigh softly, sinking into the hot water that was easing your sore muscles. "Oh you girls should get a piece for yourself, he sure knows how to treat a lady." 

He had put your pleasure before everything else last night, and that was a rare thing in your line of work, especially from a drifter.

"Oh, believe us we've tried. I reckon all of the girls have been to his table. He was polite and all but he wasn't interested in any of us. Seems he only has eyes for you, sugar. How about that?"

You only raise a brow and carry on washing your hair, the gorgeous rose scent carrying in the steam of the baths.

Karen leans across nudging Madani. "Just look at her, she's smitten."

You throw your washcloth at them, splashing water everywhere. "Am not! It's just refreshin' to get a good customer once in a while."

Madani grins. "Oh you are sugar, you got them dreamy eyes, wonderin' if you're gonna see him again."

Karen cackles. "Yep, you get one good dick and you're already pickin' out your weddin' dress!"

"Quit it you two!"

-

You take half of your earnings to the bank that afternoon, the rest of it tucked securely in your garter to be deposited elsewhere. You never entirely trusted the banks to keep your nest egg safe. The church at the end of the street was quiet as usual, there were less and less god-fearing residents these days; it was more for decoration than worship.

"Father, it's just me!" You call as you walk down between the scruffy termite-ridden pews towards the altar. Reverend Murdock was arranging the bibles for Mass and lifted his head to flash you a smile.

"Haven't seen you here for some time, come to pray, confess, or make a deposit?" 

Of all the people in this shithole of a town, it was perhaps surprising that the reverend understood you the most. He was a peculiar man in terms of the religion he supposedly practiced and preached. He didn't judge you harshly for your career path, and he always had an ear to lend whenever you needed it.

"It's the latter today, I'm actually getting close to having enough."

He chuckles, "and here I thought you'd drained the pocketbooks of all the men in this town! I kid, I'm happy to hear it although I'll miss you when you leave."

You retrieve your stashed bundle of notes and hand them to him as you embrace. "Well there's always fresh blood, father, and thank you, again.

"That's what I'm afraid of. Alright, I'll keep this safe for you. Will you be coming along tonight for prayer?" 

You giggle. "I'm sorry father, I've been on my knees so much recently they're practically red raw, I don't think I can!" You slap him playfully on the arm and he chuckles along with you as you say your goodbyes.

-

"You know just how lucky you are, you mangy dog?" Billy was also grilling Frank on the previous night's activities.

"I do. You ain't gettin' anythin' outta me though. Gentleman never tells." 

Billy just grins. "Gentleman… pah! Can see it already, one night Castle, and you're soft on her."

Frank shoots him a stony glare. 

He holds his hands up in defense. "Don't blame you brother. You ready to go do this?"

-

The next night Frank appears with bloody knuckles and another thick stack of bills. He takes you apart on the bed. First with his fingers as your own hand curls around his cock and you pant into each other's mouths before you let him fuck you. Most men would take you from behind like you're only a hole for them, but not him. He lays you down, and you get a sense of just how big he is as he holds himself above you, his lips trailing tantalising kisses all over your skin before he enters you slowly. He treats you gently, he's making love to you, and it's not without a fiery passion. You wrap your legs around him tightly as you drag your nails lightly up his back at the unfiltered bliss you're experiencing.

"This okay, Miss? Goddamn y'feel fuckin' heavenly..."

You murmur your agreement. "Y'don't have to call me Miss anymore." you breathe. He rolls his hips deliciously, kissing up your neck and under your jaw as he moves like a wave. 

"Mm, what should I be callin' you? Darlin'? Honey? Sweetheart?" He thrusts deeper with every term of endearment he suggests and you start to lose your mind.

"How 'bout just… my name?" And you whisper it to him, nipping gently at his earlobe.

"Such a pretty name, for a pretty girl." When it rolls off his tongue full of sin as he says it back to you, you're gone.

Afterwards, he uses your basin to clean up and starts reaching for his clothes and you make a decision.

"You got somewhere to be tonight Castle?" You ask, watching him pause at the question.

"Depends. Didn't think you'd want me to stay the night." 

You pat the space on the mattress he's left beside you. "A girl can get lonely."

He hesitates for a mere moment before he climbs back in beside you. "Much rather be here than the boardin' house, that's for sure."

You smile and take his hand, your expression fading to concern as you kiss over his raw and bruised knuckles. 

"Just business." He says in answer to your silent question.

"Not the fun kind." You offer.

He shakes his head and takes your hand in his with returning kisses. He wasn't going to tell you he bloodied his fists beating information out of someone, information that moved him ever closer to his revenge.

"You get the money alright?" He asks, changing the subject.

You nod. "It's more than I expected." 

"Worth every penny." He looks down at your joined hands, his thumb passing mindlessly over your soft skin. "And uh, if you'll have me, I'll keep comin' as long as I'm around."

You find yourself stunned by his admission, yet another rarity to be asked if you wanted to see a man again. "You keep throwing all your money at me Frank, I'm gonna be outta here in no time."

"S'that right? You savin' up to escape?" 

You nod.

"Know where you're gonna go?" 

You don't normally talk about your plans with your customers, but for some reason you feel like you want to with Frank. "I dunno, just… somewhere else. Far away. It's been fun but I don't wanna be doin' this forever."

Frank nods and grabs the whiskey bottle, taking a slug. "So uh, s'that mean I might just be your last?"

You smile as you straddle him, stealing the drink from him. "Mm. You might just be, Frank."

You set the bottle down and idly trail random patterns over his bare chest with your fingers. "How long are you planning on staying?"

He gazes up at you, his expression suddenly solemn and hard and it makes you regret probing further.

"Until it's done." He simply says.

You're still half asleep and barely register when he kisses your cheek in the morning before he leaves. "Might be gone a couple days…" he whispers, but you only murmur softly as the bedroom door closes behind him.

-

He didn't bank on this, he was just following the trail of blood from town to town, and making a trail of his own as he tortured and despatched those that had wronged him in pursuit of vengeance. He thought it was so clear and simple, but now there was you. He had only meant to ease the weight of his task, to forget why he was doing this for a little while, to lose himself in a pretty girl. 

Frank tightens the strap of the stirrups and pulls himself up into the saddle, checking his pistols are fully loaded before clicking his tongue and coaxing his horse onward.

-

You visit the church again to stash more of your savings. On the way the streets are rife with reports that there's been a massacre in the county and Reverend Murdock meets you at the door. "You hear the news? Bank got shot up in the next town, total carnage. Folks say there wasn't even money stolen, just the owners and the guards shot clean through the eye."

'What?" Your first thoughts go to Frank. You shouldn't have been surprised, you knew his reputation and it was clear he was in the area for a specific reason. You just hoped that if it turned out to be him that he did what he did for a damn good reason.

-

It's late and you're dozing as you're woken by a knock at your door. It's Josie.

"M'sorry to wake you love but it's the outlaw. Should I tell 'im to git? It's mighty late and frankly he's a mess but figured I should check with you first."

You could have just ignored him but something makes you pull on your robe and follow Josie downstairs. You thank her and open the door to find Frank leaning up against the frame. You already know the truth of what's happened. You can't see his face but you can tell he's injured. 

"The bank?" You ask him.

He nods. "There's somethin' I wanna tell you, I know you don't owe me nothin' but…"

"C'mon," you beckon him in. "Leave your coat and shit down here."

You lead him through the empty bar up to the private bathroom and get the kettle from the range, sitting him down and taking a good look at him in the oil lamp light. 

"M'fine." He protests, but you motion him to take off his dirty shirt and instantly spot an angry graze on his side. You grab a towel and wet it, dabbing the blood from the wound and making sure it's not deep. It's when you're in front of him that he finally speaks as you're cleaning a cut on his cheek.

"Few years back, a gang run by someone I owed money to broke into my home while I was outta town." Your eyes flick to meet his but you stay silent as you work, letting him continue.

"House wasn't empty though, my wife, my boy, my little girl were there…"

You sit back, feeling a coldness creep into the room.

"They uh, turned the place over lookin' for the money y'know, an' when they couldn't find none they killed them. Killed my family."

Your hand moves to cover your mouth in shock. You can't imagine what it would be like to face such horror. Your eyes brim with tears for both them and him. "Oh Frank! I- I'm so sorry."

He reaches for you, stroking the side of your face with a gentleness that used to contrast his demeanor. But not now.

"You don't gotta be sorry for me sweetheart. I've done my grievin'. Been searchin' for so long, tearin' up the world since then, and I finally found the fucker behind it all, and the fuckin' scum that worked under him, the ones that did it. Rotten to the fuckin' core, all of em."

"...and last night, you did it, they're dead aren't they, it's done?" You looked right at him, his gaze didn't waver.

"Yeah, It's done. My family, they can rest now." He sighs, saying those words out loud feels like a ten tonne weight has been lifted off his shoulders. 

"Listen, they'll be lookin' for me, I gotta get outta here. I just- I guess I didn't wanna leave without sayin' goodbye."

You cup his face in your hands and lay a soft kiss on his lips. "Stay, rest. It ain't the kinda night to be riding off right now. You can set off at dawn." 

He nods, conceding instantly. He's dog-tired from fighting, from riding, from thinking, but the thought of spending one last night in the haven of your bed was just what he needed.

You make sure he's fed and watered before you lead him to your room.

Frank promised himself that once this was over, once he had gotten closure, he'd allow himself a new life, one where there was peace. Maybe one day even happiness. As he curled his body around the warmth of your sleeping form he wondered if maybe you'd feature in it.

It was a stupid thought as you barely knew each other but maybe you knew enough. But either way he couldn't stop his dumb mouth from moving.

"Sweetheart," he calls into your skin. "I was thinkin'..."

You stir, turning in his arms and blinking open your eyes. He looks different, the darkness is gone. "Yeah Frank?"

"Know you were thinkin' o' leaving this place. Thought that maybe-"

You finish his sentence before he can. "I could go with you?" 

He tucks a few stray strands of hair behind your ear. "Only if y'wanna. I know you're a strong woman, but the world's a dangerous place, an' I'd feel better knowin' that you're safe, least until you find somewhere y'wanna be."

"You'd protect me?" You ask, enjoying the way he suddenly turns bashful when you're looking at him the way you are, like he's offering up something that he's kept locked away for a long while. 

"Would do my damned best. And, y'know, although he's good company, Billy ain't as pretty as you."

You smile at his charms and it coaxes one from him too. He pulls you closer, kissing you as he rolls you on top and you're careful to avoid his injury as you place your knees on either side of his hips. His hands run up your back, pulling your nightdress up and off over your head.

"Beautiful." He murmurs as he guides you back down to him, his lips laying sweet kisses along your neck.

"C'mere Castle." Your purr, working his underwear off and releasing his thickening cock. You moan into mouth as he captures your lips again, grinding up against your bare pussy. 

A whispered fuck leaves him as you grasp him in your hand, lining him up and lowering yourself slowly down on him. "Yeah, that's it darlin'," his eyes are full of adoration as he watches you, he can't stop running his hands over you, feeling the softness of your skin and furrowing his fingers in your hair as you take him.

"Think you'd be happy enough only havin' me in your bed from now on?" Frank asks you. 

You try not to laugh, to give him the satisfaction of knowing that if every time was gonna be like this then yes, you couldn't ever ask for more.

"Think I just might get by, Castle." You smile before your mouth meets his, your hips moving fluidly as you ride him slow. His hands hold your hips, the rough pads of his thumbs stroking your skin and the combined sensations drawing a sweet moan from your throat. He can't help but join you, the thought that there might be room for a little real love in both of your lives is a welcome one.

You draw nearer your peak, your breath hushed and clipped as Frank commands your pleasure. His thumb dances over your clit, his eyes transfixed on your face as you unravel for him. Your sweet cunt pulses and flutters around his cock and he follows you into that euphoric state, spilling inside you with a freeing moan.

He holds you as you're laying on him, tangled in the sheets and each other. 

"So where we headin' to first?"

He strokes your cheek and cocks his head. "S'that a yes?"

You kiss him on the bridge of his nose. You'd miss your girls, Josie, the reverend… but this was what you'd been waiting so long for.

"Yes, I'll come with you Castle." 

.

.

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