#i've never written a prompt fill on tumblr before i hope this is how the etiquette works

[sunnonymous]

"Barely."

"The hell do you mean, 'barely?' Being in love-"

"Is an extremely private predicament-"

"-generally involves at least two people, whose business the matter very much is."

"Yeah, well I didn’t know two people were involved, did I?"

"Of course you did. You love me. That’s two."

"How was I supposed to know you were in love with me, too?"

"Oh, I don’t know, maybe because we’ve going to the ends of the earth for each other for years now, braving thick and thin, always standing by one another’s side?"

"Purely coincidence."

"You’re a dolt."

"I am not. Besides that’s not love, that’s dedication."

"What else is love supposed to be?"

"It’s… more that that."

"More. Very specific."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Maybe you could tell me just what exactly you think is more loving than wholehearted commitment?"

"I don’t know! It’s, love’s not just always being around someone, is it? It’s not just duty. It’s… a searing feeling going up your throat every time they look at you for more than a second. It’s not being able to think straight then they press up against your side, and going insane trying to make them crack a smile when they’re blue. It’s the drop in your stomach whenever they’re in danger, doing anything and everything in your power to save them. It’s-"

"Drinking a deadly poison to free them from a curse, even though it means sacrificing yourself?"

"… When you put it that way, it sounds obvious."

"I was under the impression it was."

"Clearly not, or I would have noticed."

"You’re literally the very last one to notice."

"No, that can’t be true. I don’t know how you found out about me, either. I hid it well."

"You absolutely didn’t. But it stings a bit that you tried."

"I- but I thought… I never expected you’d want me to be in love with you."

"Why ever not?"

"Well, you’ve had suitors clamouring for your hand left and right since the day you came of age. I saw the lengths they went to, how they bored you, how they treated you like a prize… most of all I saw how badly it hurt you to be regarded that way. Like your affections were a plaything to be won with the right combination of words and gifts. I never wanted you to think I saw you that way. I didn’t want my love to hurt you, like theirs did."

"… None of them were ever really in love with me, though. You know that, right?"

"I know. How could they be?"

"Oof, I know you’re in a snippy mood, but that’s taking it a step too far-"

"No- oh, shut up! I meant, how could they be, when they didn’t know you like I do? They’d gift you gems and jewellery and I’d have to stand there silently rolling my eyes, knowing you’d have much preferred a book. They’d complement your hair and all I could think about was how you loathed brushing tangles from it every morning, or about the time I snuck you a pair of scissors and your mother went bezerk about the short cut you gave yourself-"

"Pfft, her face was as red as a beetroot."

"-and how you hate sitting still at fancy dinners, how your heart yearns for adventure, how you’d fight the world if it stood between you and doing what’s right."

"Goodness… you think awfully highly of me."

"I know, it’s a problem. You’re a brat who makes my job extremely hard."

"Is that all?"

"Obviously not. Though, they are your most defining qualities."

"But you still love me."

"Regrettably."

"Hey! I’d say it was quite fortunate that you do, or else that kiss wouldn’t have worked and I’d be cold as the grave right now."

"And I’d definitely be fired."

"We can’t have that."

"Good grief, I’m probably going to be exiled the minute we get home, anyway. What kind of bodyguard lets their charge drink from a poisoned chalice?"

"The kind of guard who can awaken them afterwards with a quick peck to the lips?"

"… I didn’t know it would work."

"I did."

"How?"

"Didn’t I explain already? Despite your best efforts you’ve been quite obvious-"

"No, that’s not- I meant how did you know that I… would kiss you?"

"Oh, love. It’s simple, really. You only let yourself care when you think I can’t see. It’s only once you think I’m asleep that you’ll stroke my hair, pull a blanket up over me, stoke the fire to make sure I keep warm. You slide extra food onto my plate when my attention’s pulled, you dim the lanterns when I pass out with my head in a book, and you always - always - fight for me. Even when I’m not there to thank you for it."

"I… don’t do it for thanks."

"I know that, too. You never ask me for anything, even when I wish more than anything that you would."

"You want me to ask things of you?"

"Of course. How else am I supposed to show you how much I love you, too?"

"… No wonder I didn’t figure it out."

Prompt #966

"Why did you never tell me?"

"It was a personal issue."

"You being in love with me kind of also involves me."

[i-am-vita]

Someone Looking for You (pt. 1)

👉 Previously: Someone Who Loves You

Bogard x Ghost Rose Oc (afabReader)

+2,000 words

👉 My Masterlist, Oc Ghost Rose Masterlist, Scruffy Bogard Inspiration, Bogard's Sexy Spy Wife Headcanons

Sorry I haven't been as active as before in the fandom. Got a new job and a flu barely two weeks in, started some character design classes, went to a Dia de Muertos weekend to Michoacan (to foreigners, the place where Pixar went to look at for Coco) and came back with a stomach infection... I swear I've been back a officing for a month and a half and already went to the doctor three times.

But more importantly, I reached 100 followers in October and didn't realized!!!

I noticed I had some new followers here and there but never thought to look up the numbers. Thank you so much, people, for choosing me, even with my inconsistency. Have the first part of Some Who Loves You next chapter as a little treat. I've had it started for a while but unsure of how to proceed. Maybe some peer presure helps.

Moots and interested people I remember: @fanaticsnail @jintaka-hane @cinnbar-bun @gingernut1314 (look how swiftly I play around that new Tumblr rule of not letting you tag more than five people in a row) @writingmysanity @feral-artistry @indydonuts @since-im-already-here

Summary: After your night together weeks ago, Bogard is set to find you and uncover the mystery of your identity. Could you really be the love he thought lost all those years ago? Warnings: Scruffy Bogard. Swearing. Hidden identity. Regular canon violence. Expect: They Have History. Lovers to Strangers to Lovers. Use of You, not Y/N. Change of pov. FemOcReader, fem pronouns. Probably better English, but don't hold your breath. I've been subjected to testing crappy Visual Novels for a month and a half. My time tenses may be worst than ever.

.

His footsteps were hardly the only noise in the lively nightlife of this island.

Cantinas and dance clubs filled the main street with music and laughter. Their patrons too busy to pay attention to the solitary scruffy man in the brown overcoat wandering the night, aiming his time.

Any other time, Bogard would be eager to be back in his room for the night, get rid of these street clothes, shave the scruff off of his face and report back to his superiors after a good night of sleep.

It hadn’t been like any other time since that night.

The night he was ailed by that damn cheap interrogation serum. When you stayed to nurse him and, eventually, helped him bear the side effects with your body. Only to wake up the next day alone with a small note of yours. The calligraphy style too similar to that of the notes from his lost love he still kept. Read and reread so many times over the years he could recognize the lines and letters like the palm of his hand.

Hope flooded his heart.

That dreadful emotion had been crushed years ago when he accepted his one and only love was lost to him forever. Bogard had buried himself in work, focused only in his career at the marine and serving along Garp. His leisure time was occupied in activities to engage in logic rather than indulge his feelings.

If a need arose, he took care of it with promptness and no attachment. And if his eye catched a likeness to the one he had lost… then maybe he could indulge himself after all.

Until he had entered that bar one night and you were there.

The alluring new guard of The Contact.

How had he wished for you to turn around and let him see your face. To be just a regular man getting in a bar, free to revel in the company of a beautiful stranger, instead of an undercover marine agent meeting with one of the most notorious intel dealers in the Grand Line.

By some chance, his wish was granted and his properly ordered life was shattered.

He had gone to a graphologist to analyze the written notes and see if it was possible to be from the same person. The expert told him that, despite the similarities in the calligraphy style, there were details that suggested they still could have been written by different people. The inclination of letters, some twirls here and there.

That specific style was popular years ago among the young women of society. It only proved that both women had similar upbringing and were taught by private tutors during the same period of time.

To the expert it wasn’t much, but to Bogard it was everything. Because to him it couldn’t be a coincidence. Not after that night and how you were with him.

Oh, he had come to question his sanity over the last weeks.

Wondering if he was just so desperate for sincere affection and connection that he was projecting his longing for his lost love in an unsuspecting woman who happened to show him more kindness than he was used to from a one time lover.

Both you and her memory deserved better than that.

He thought he would see you again soon and confirm or deny his suspicions. Bogard didn’t know which he preferred.

The next reunion with The Contact came and he couldn’t find a trace of you after the meeting.

While he and your boss discussed and exchanged intel about the group trafficking with those serums that were after them the last time and how to take them out, his eyes kept returning to your figure standing guard at the bar. Long hair falling down your back, a dark dress encasing your seductive figure, your face turned away from his insisting gaze…

After the meeting, he stood from his seat and looked over for the last time, but you weren’t there anymore.

He didn’t know what he was expecting. For you to leave your spot and run into his arms?

Another meeting came next week.

Bogard arrived some minutes earlier and he could swear he saw a feminine figure slipping away into the darkest shadows of the bar, where he didn’t have a good sight.

You were avoiding him.

Damn it.

That night, Bogard had been reluctant for you to stay to aid him with the side effects of the serum, but you had and offered the comfort of your body. He knew he had lost control at some point, too gone in the aphrodisiac’s effects.

Had he done something to hurt you or offend you after all?

Were you mad at him? Did you regret that night?

What was he supposed to do now? Ask the Phantom Captain for an introduction like he was a suitor looking to court you?

If he had actually known his interlocutor, Bogard may have realized that’s what your boss was half expecting for you two to do since the first moment he caught the longing gazes. Your reluctance to speak of your feelings was getting on everybody's nerves.

Something had to be done about you two before the careful plan the Phantom Captain and Garp had been brewing for months was ruined.

Bogard was so deep in thought walking back to his safe room after that second meeting it took him several minutes to realize he was being followed until his assailants were almost on him.

Just regular thugs with no training or special abilities.

The five men ambushed him, two of them aiming to immobilize him. Bogard had those unconscious on the floor in a few seconds.The other three were tricky, but he had one’s arm in a lock with a hand before the other two could react.

All of a sudden, both assailants fell to the floor, holding their knees and screaming in pain. Sharp blades pierced their joints and then flew back towards a dark alley.

Bogard threw the man he was holding to the floor and ran to the alley finding nothing, but a sweet flowery and fruity fragrance in the air.

Were you following him on your own volition or your boss’ orders?

Did you care for the intel he had to deliver or himself?

He needed to get to you and third was the charm.

Tonight, all his enhanced senses were keen on the presence following him in the street. It took all his will to not turn around to try to find you among the crowd of night goers.

He had to time it just right.

Tonight, you will be in his arms again.

.

You just wanted to make sure he was safe.

Those smugglers were still on the run and some had seen him. Even if they didn’t know Bogard’s real identity, he may have become a target. They may still have some of that interrogation serum. Even after you and your crew managed to track them that night and take down their lair with most of their supply.

You had asked your crewmate Meg, an expert perfumer and chemistry, more about those cheap serums and it had left you livid. If you hadn't been there to… treat Bogard’s ailment, it would have been much worse to him. He could have hurt himself; wander outside, lost in the pain and frenzy, and hurt someone else.

It was a matter of the common good.

Vice Admiral Garp had the means and connections to guide Marine resources to take down those smugglers. Bogard was their main contact with Garp. He needed to be protected.

That was all.

The fact he was the man you had loved and almost married in your youth was minor. You had burned that bridge when you decided to put his well being over yours and ran away from your engagement.

He was about to reject a most excellent promotion to stay with you, not knowing that his promising career was the only reason your family had allowed your relationship. Your brown-noser of a stepfather would lose his opportunity of having a well connected son in law.

You were ready to postpone your engagement with Bogard until he was better established in his career, and you still wanted to go to university. There was no need to rush and lose opportunities when you had the rest of your lives to be together. Until you discovered your stepfather scheming to get rid of your beloved and marry you off to some marine Captain that best suited his ambitions.

Accidents happened and even the most promising young officers could fall in the line of duty and nobody would be the wiser.

At 18 years old, with a mother that would agree it was better for you to just call off your engagement and go with your stepfather’s plan of finding you a better suitor, and no other adult close or well-off enough to ask for help, you couldn’t find a better solution than to run from home.

You broke his heart.

You knew you had to.

You were cruel in your break up, publicly enough so your family were sure you hadn’t run away together when he accepted his commission overseas. You also had to be sure Bogard wouldn’t look for you when he came back and you weren’t there anymore.

The heartbreak had been agonizing, but it had to be done. No matter how misguided your actions were, you wouldn’t tolerate being a puppet of your family and any harm coming to the young man you loved.

No matter the pain, both of you would be fine and thrive on your own.

It had to be enough.

Or it had been until Bogard had walked in that bar and you discovered it was him and Vice Admiral Garp whom your captain had been intel dealing with this whole time.

And now all the operation could be at stage because you couldn’t stop thinking about that night.

Been able to be near him again.

Talk to him, touch him, nurse him. And then more…

You had hidden from his sight every meeting since then. Fearing to be unable to hide your real feelings. To run into his arms and uncover yourself.

But your feelings were not important.

His safety was.

That’s why you had followed him every night after, assisted him when he was attacked, and ensured he arrived safely to his destination before you went back to your crew’s safehouse.

That’s why you were here this night, following him through the night crowd…

Bogard stopped abruptly in his walk, looking intently at some point ahead of him and then walked to an adjacent street.

Well, fuck.

Who had he spotted that had made him change his route like that?

You ran to the crosswalk while surveying the street, but nobody else seemed to be on his chase. The sight of his brown overcoat turning a corner ahead indicated you of his path. Your own black long coat fluttered in the air as you ran to keep up with your pursuit of him.

As you turned the corner you found yourself running right into a tight embrace. Momentum spun you in half a circle while strong arms surrounded your smaller form and brought you against a firm torso. A swift hand halted yours from reaching to your knives’ pouch tied to your thigh.

“Forgive me. I know I deserve it, but I would rather not be stabbed tonight,” Bogard murmured in your ear, sending shivers down your back.

“Rick…” you sigh his name unconsciously, completely taken by surprise.

“You’re very hard to catch.” His grip on you relaxed, but his arm remained around your waist, anchoring you to him and warmth of his body.

His hand raised yours to deposit a soft kiss on your palm.

“To catch… Did you set me up?!”

"I needed to see you."

"You had seen me."

"You know what I mean." A gasp escaped your lips at the intensity of his gaze.

It took you several seconds to realize you weren’t wearing your lace mask and Bogard was able to see your full face. Even with the illusion over your real facial features and skin tone, you felt almost naked under the scrutiny of his eyes.

Oh, no, what had you let yourself fall into?

.

.

.

[itsobnoxiouslove]

All is Calm Way Out There

One of two fics for @zanibot ! For the Lord Huron Secret Santa hosted by @tinylongwing. Happy holidays and I hope you enjoy!

I was torn between two of the prompts you gave me so I did something for them both! Story two should either be up some time today or within the next couple of days.

Summary: When the Boys leave the studio for the night Tubbs reflects on the past.

Content warnings: Mentions of canonically dead characters, mentions of smoking and consumption of alcohol (but not in a harmful manner). Basically, canon Typical AFWP and Long Lost Content. If I happened to miss a warning let me know!

Notes:

-I haven't used Tumblr to post fics before so sorry for any weird formatting.

-Since this is the first time I've written for LH sorry if things in either story are too OOC or stray too far from canon.

-The band does show up much like they do in AFWP. this is meant to be a fictional in universe version of them.

-I don't own the characters/canon or any Lyrics used within the fic

It was lonely in Whispering Pines Studios, way out there. Outside of the studio snow gently fell, not an intense storm in the slightest. Tubbs knew it could get worse as the night progressed and planned just to spend the night in the studio. 

The Boys were wrapping up for the night, spending most of the day working on their record. He waved to them not really getting a response back from the band. There were times Tubbs didn’t know if anyone in the band was actually aware of him. The thought made him feel forgotten, more so than normal with how disused the studio was in current times. Yet they seemed to hear him following through with song requests and taking his advice when Tubbs gave it.

These days it seemed they were the only people besides Tubbs himself who used the studio. He still had his show. In all honesty he didn’t know who exactly was watching anymore but he knew somewhere people were tuning into WBUB for his show so many years later. Every time when he opened the phone lines for requests they would flood in.  It warmed his heart to think people still cared about his show.  

The sound of music finned the studio. Behind the glass the music was slightly muffled. Tubbs worked on his list of tasks loosing himself to their songs.

Hearing those old tunes always brought swarms of memories rushing back. Good, bad and everything in between. If he listened close enough he could hear echoes of his long gone peers in their voices. It was why the band was the subject of the upcoming season of his show. Tubbs couldn’t do anything to bring his old peers back but the boys were close enough. Even when not covering a past tune, they were quite the group. 

Tubbs knew where those who used the studio were in the present moment. Way out in the desert, in the place where the seeds of Whispering Pines were planted. They were waiting for him to join them. He knew they were. Tubbs was not quite ready to join them just yet. 

At the train of thought the blur that was slowly overtaking his face vanished. 

They knew who he was yet he couldn’t quite remember all the faces or names, the same blur taking them from his mind. 

Donnie and Midge were two he would never forget regardless if their faces have vanished from his mind. The anniversary of that stormy night at the Broken Bottle was coming up. With the Broken Bottle closed he couldn’t visit it to celebrate. He could but once more he reminded himself the cost was something he wasn’t ready for. 

Eventually The Boys left for the night leaving Tubbs alone in the now quiet studio. Finishing his tasks the new silence was getting to him.

Slowly he found his way to a cabinet in the corner of the room. It was filled to the brim with records, every one recorded within Whispering Pines and those who appeared on Alive From Whispering pines. 

Every single record held a story. Mixed in were things from his non musician guests.  Tubbs' focus was music but he admired art even when it wasn’t in music form. His personal favorite being books from when George Ranger Johnson was on his show.

He flicked through his collection half reading the labels until one artist stood out; Frankie Lou.

It was truly a shame what happened to her. He probably needed to tidy up her memorial relatively soon. Tubbs wasn’t a very superstitious man all things considered, but with the subject matter and weirdness around “The World Ender” he found himself taking the dead seriously. Leaving her memorial to collect dust probably wouldn’t make Frankie happy. 

Thoughts of the song caused him to flip to The Phantom Riders; they were a hell of a bunch yet they could write a tune. Not exactly what he was looking for after a moment’s thought. 

Starting from the top he browsed his records once more. 

On his second run through one name stood out; Fleur. It wasn’t the artist's true name, that would be Leigh or Lee Green depending on who asked. She was quick to drop the orgional stage name after her first album and ‘events in her personal life’ she never described to Tubbs. 

He quickly moved to where the rest of Green’s work was pulling out his favorite album by her. 

Lee was an underrated gem within the studio, never gaining as much traction as other performers under the label such as Quentin King (Tubbs rolled his eyes at the name).Tubbs was fond of the kid’s music from the time he heard it despite the weakness in her debut. He was right, as she grew so much as an artist. He was proud of her work.  

Many men pursued her over the years. She was even the subject of many songs from the studio. From her comments about the Buck Vernon poster in the studio it seems there was history between the two. Tubbs never learned the story, he never pressed. 

Not being one of those men which is why he figured things were different between them. In return for viewing her as a musician as opposed to the subject of affection she cared about his health.  

She left Whispering Pines to pursue bigger things. Tubbs didn’t know where she was now, their last conversation occurred long ago. All that was left of her presence were the records and a picture on the wall next to Boo Boo Slippers’. Tubbs took a deep breath to get rid of the ache in his heart. He was a head of the times with his dislike for clowns but Slippers was always an exception. 

He stashed some cigarettes behind there where he hoped she wouldn’t notice. When he switched the photos out years ago with hopes of stopping his smoking habit. That seeing her face would remind him of all of their conversations they had about it. She was so determined to stop his habit. Since that night wasn’t one where he was tempted to partake in it, looking at the photo only made Tubbs miss her more.  

Tubbs placed the record on the player and let the music fill the space.  Pouring a glass of bootheel he hummed along. He plopped himself down in his chair being careful to not spill his drink. Spinning to face the window he looked out into the studio, without a band inside it was nothing but a dark void. Tubbs wondered if like him the space longed for someone to use it. Being just a room it had nothing to say. 

Raising his glass to those long gone he took a sip savoring the bitter liquid. He closed his eyes and leaned back picturing Leigh in the empty studio playing her music along with her recorded version.  

“I ain’t lonely, I’m long lost.” 

Tubbs hummed along finding himself relating to the lyrics more than ever. 

[emmalouisefanfiction]

Sub Rosa

[The url is not hidden anymore.]

Summary:

A ministry approved marriage was the last thing Hermione wanted. And the last thing the Wizarding World needed.

And her fiancé agreed.

While the Wizarding World descends into marriage law madness, Hermione Granger faces a different foe.

Rated:

Teen And Up Audiences

Tags:

Arranged Marriage, Marriage Contract, Marriage Law, Secret Marriage, Established Relationship, Politics, Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter), Bad Lucius Malfoy, Supportive Narcissa Black Malfoy, Light Angst with a Happy Ending

Notes:

My contribution to the tumblr 2024 dramione month.

Prompt: Contract marriage.

* Also 'Marriage of Convenience'

I've taken liberty with the exact wording of the prompt, though.

Hope you enjoy. :3

“The ministry is happy to announce the Marriage Contract Law has been a smashing success!”

Hermione Granger had never felt true fear before today.

It was a ludicrous thought considering all she’d been through. Plenty of things had scared her before. The nerves that accompanied her first day at Hogwarts as a wide-eyed eleven year old, despite her outward bravado. The many times she worried Harry had bitten off more than he could chew when facing Voldemort and his many supporters. Being tortured with the Cruciatus Curse over and over again, unsure if she would come out the other end with her mind intact. And this stupid marriage law, written in metaphorical blood, that targeted single wizards and witches, like it was a penalty to not already be married.

But there was one thing that scared her more than any of that.

“Every eligible citizen has finished filling out their forms detailing likes, dislikes, and other important factors that make up a successful marriage.”

The Daily Prophet had not stopped being a mouthpiece for the more conservative members of the Wizengamot.

Liars.

Hermione had filled out no forms. The wizarding world thought she was single but no forms had been owled to her and nobody had come to her home demanding she fill them out and return them in a timely manner. Yet her name had joined the hundreds of wizards and witches registered with the Wizengamot, to find their match. The very public records which now stated who her match would be.

She had been afraid before, but nothing compared to the pure adrenalin of terror currently coursing through her veins. Which was how she found herself now, in a rush, racing to pack everything she’d need for an extended vacation out of Wizarding Britain. Hermione had already started haphazardly throwing her clothes out of the closet like a madwoman. 

Gone was the normally studious and meticulous woman who had changed more barbaric laws in the past six years than the entire Wizengamot in the last century. In her place was a harried, desperate, version of the woman who was on the fast track to be the next Minister for Magic.

It will be okay , she’d tried to tell herself. She’d been through so much. She would get through this. Tell that to the Wizengamot and Daily Prophet , the voice inside her retorted. That voice that came out in panic. She had been listening to it too often since this law passed. This wasn’t like her.

I need to stop this.

Long, drawn out minutes of her rushing through her belongings passed before she remembered she was a witch and withdrew her wand to start sorting out the rest. There was no telling how long she would be gone, so she packed everything she thought essential. The old Hermione Granger would be fine with a tent and a few muggle items. The Granger who’d gone on the run with two teenage boys had overpacked but that had been mostly books and anything else she had that was even remotely connected to dark arts and the horcruxes they were after.

But now? Now she had no clue what to pack. But they were getting packed anyway. She still remembered how to cast an undetectable extension charm. Laws be damned.

“Couples have been paired together based on both magical and emotional compatibility.”

For some people, maybe. But her own pairing was based on the views of old family vengeance. They couldn’t force Harry, who’d married Ginny the previous year, or Ron who had surprised everyone six months after the Battle of Hogwarts by eloping with the woman who’d tried to give up the Boy Who Lived to Voldemort. Pansy had been a shock to even Ron’s own family. But both couples worked. They were amazing together. Any ninny could see that. Still, that left Hermione as the odd one out in the eyes of the Wizarding World. The one that people wondered about and pointed at behind their hands. Whispering. Speculating. And scrambling to predict who she would fall in love with.

The public was a mess about her alleged non-existent love life. Some made predictions and gushed over every guy she even spoke with, wondering if this was “the one”. Others still wondered if there were even any wizards left that would want her.

Idiots.

This was why her relationship with Draco Malfoy had been secret for so long. At least that’s what she thought, until a few hours ago. Someone had discovered them. And that someone had been the driving force between trying to get her matched with someone else before she could run off with his son.

Lucius Malfoy.

“All couples have been vetted by the Wizengamot and our ministry leaders. They are all amazing matches!”

Draco still officially lived at the Manor but often spent nights in the flat they unofficially shared.

Hermione waved her wand at his closet and a week’s worth of suits and ties exited, levitating their way to the second suitcase on their bed, folding themselves neatly inside. She would have to thank Mrs Weasley for that spell later.

And for looking after Crookshanks for me, during this.

Several other groups of items began magically piling themselves into smaller bags as Hermione cast the feather-light charm on them. She glanced up at her clock on the wall.

Draco is late.

He was supposed to be home half an hour ago. Draco had insisted on talking to his father. On convincing him to back down. If he failed, they were going to run away. Elope. Away from the world. It would be very Slytherin of them, but still within the written word of the law. However, he was now late .

Hermione paused her wand movements, realising she had enough things packed, and peered into the two suitcases, sighing. Extension charms were really a life saver. She swallowed heavily, licking her lips and glancing at the clock again. She reached into her robes, still dressed in her ministry uniform, and fingered the fake galleon within. She’d insisted on this to communicate, when he’d decided to run off half-cocked. Very Gryffindor of him, as she’d said, hoping it would stop him. She was a bad influence on him, it seemed. The fake galleon was warm under her fingers, which meant he was still alive. But he wasn’t returning her questions of “where are you?” and “are you okay?”.

Something was going on. But he’d made her promise to wait for him.

“Every couple will be married at the ministry within the month but are free to plan a larger, more ornate wedding later.”

She forced herself to calm down, trying not to hiccup with frustration. She sat down on the edge of the bed she shared with Draco and focused on her breathing. The last thing she needed now was to have a full blown panic attack.

Draco will be here soon.

He had to be. She couldn’t go on an extended vacation without him. No, she’d break down every ward in Malfoy Manor to rescue him. And ask his forgiveness later. That’s what old Hermione Granger would do. She smiled, thinking of all the things she could do to those wards. Draco had taught her a thing or two about them. Just in case , he’d said. 

Hermione had a vial of his blood to get under the “must be a Malfoy” parts of the wards, and weeks of practice in Malfoy invented counter-curses under her belt. She was confident. She was ready for that potential outcome. In case Draco’s father went crazy and tried to kidnap him.

She wouldn’t put it past Lucius Malfoy to do just that. Staring at the clock as the seconds ticked by, Hermione remembered the last time she’d seen the older Malfoy. A week ago, he’d sneered at her, despite the cameras flashing in both their faces. He was opposing a piece of legislation that had her name all over it. He had support with older wizards but the general public had always been her friend. Not to mention Kingsley Shacklebolt, who’d been the one to warn her that someone in the ministry was trying to rig her match in this new marriage law. He couldn’t do anything about it, not knowing who it was. Hermione knew it was Lucius. Now, mere hours after an exclusive interview he’d done with Rita Skeeter had made it to the Prophet.

An interview where he’d not so subtly hinted to knowing about her and Draco. Comments about keeping his family safe, mixed in with how he always seemed to butt heads with “the Golden Trio” when trying to save the sanctity of pureblood traditions. Marriage was brought up and he’d assured Rita that he and his son were agreed on who the next Lady Malfoy would be.

Draco hadn’t received a form about this marriage law either.

Hermione stood abruptly as the clock chimed. Now he was an hour late.

No, no, no.

She was going to lose Draco. Fuck. If she didn’t hurry up. If he didn’t hurry up. That was her true fear. The thing that scared her more than a revived Voldemort or Umbridge terrorising Hogwarts.

“And the match you’ve all been waiting to hear about: Hermione Granger will soon wed Rafe Rockwood. We’ve been assured the match was met well by both.”

Cousin to known Death Eater Augustus Rockwood, she added in her head angrily. Half-blood who was as despicable as his pureblood relatives, according to Draco. And someone who had been known, in certain circles, to tie women to his bed against their will. With both magic and non-magic means. Someone that Lucius Malfoy had pulled some strings to get her name next to.

Hermione waved her wand angrily at the Daily Prophet that was sitting innocently on her vanity. It burst into flames.

“I don’t think so,” she snarled. “Time’s up.”

She shrunk the suitcases and travelling bags down to fit in the pockets of her robes and took one last look at her bedroom. “I’ll be back,” she said to nobody. “Someday.”

“We believe these couples will usher in a new era of peace and strength for the magical community at large.”

There was no way Rockwood was getting his hands on her. Nor was Astoria Greengrass ever getting her grubby hands on Draco. “Never.”

Hermione closed her eyes and focused on her destination, determination and deliberation. Picturing the wrought iron gates of Malfoy Manor, she turned and disapparated on the spot. Anxiety returned to her the moment her feet hit the ground once more. Eyes open now, she couldn’t help but shudder as the gates towered over her.

You can do this, Hermione.

She whipped out her wand and got to work dismantling the wards. The vial of blood hovered before her as she focused and repeated her spellwork a half a dozen times before she felt the magic take hold. It was blood magic, this. And the blood had to have been given willingly. The Malfoy secret that the ministry would never know about. Even Voldemort didn’t know. He’d broken the wards down through sheer force of will and power.

Hermione was powerful, but she did not have the decades of experience in dark magic this would normally take. Trembling, she almost missed the moment the first magical lock clicked open.

One down, nine to go.

She knew the owners of the estate would detect her before she could finish. But this at least would get their attention. She was using spells only the family knew, after all. It took them longer than expected, however, and she wondered why. Straining against the wards, Hermione unlocked number four just as she sensed movement nearby.

“Lower your wand, miss Granger.”

It was Narcissa. She appeared behind the gates, dressed finely and peering at Hermione like she was a bug under a microscope. Hermione had met her since she started dating Draco. Her impression of her wasn’t bad, per se. But it was hardly overtly positive.

“Go home,” she said. “He’s waiting for you.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Narcissa, her wand poised, mid-incantation.

The older woman raised a delicate eyebrow. “Your little incursion provided the distraction I needed to get Draco out from under his wand, but it won’t work for long. He’ll be here soon and neither of us will enjoy what he’ll do.”

A heavy weight of panic set in Hermione’s stomach. Had Lucius tortured Draco?

“You both need to go,” Narcissa said, now with more urgency. “Before he realises what I’ve done and tracks you down.” She grabbed a hold of the wrought iron gates with both hands, the expression of concern and impatience on her face giving Hermione pause. “Go, miss Granger, or all of this will be for nothing.”

Hermione lowered her wand shakily. Warily. She held her breath but nothing happened. There was no second person ready to jump her and Narcissa made no move to show her wand. She nodded stiffly and disapparated again.

The apartment she shared with Draco came into dizzying view and Hermione let out a yelp of surprise. “Draco!”

“Hermione.”

Not “Granger” like he still insisted on calling her. “Hermione” was reserved for the bedroom or when he was annoyed with her. She frowned. But before she could question him, the man she loved strode towards her, trying to hide the limp in his walk, and opened his arms to embrace her.

It felt so dramatic but that was the moment the floo activated and an alarm sounded. It was the same alarm they’d set up to block his father. It was specialised for him and no-one else. He wouldn’t be able to get through, but it was motivation enough for Hermione to pull away from Draco, assure him she had all they needed, before he started to apparate them out of the apartment.

There was no time to ruminate on what they were doing.

They were going to elope. They were going to leave the country.

And as Draco pulled her into his side and the world disappeared around them, Hermione forgot about everything and everyone else.

Even the irate, booming voice calling for their blood but unable to stop them.

They were finally free.

[imthefemalemonster]

Hey honey! i just read this and gosh definitely one of the hottest things i've read in the last few days🥵🥵🥵🥵 With that being said i was wondering if i could get a soft Dom! Daemon x sub fem!reader x sub! Aemond with whatever kinks you want. Just Daem being good and taking care of his subs, with some fluff and aftercare please? (bonus if the 3 have an established relationship with each other)

Hello love ♡ Thank you so much for your sweet words, I put all my insanity in it (!) Like I said I haven't written much xreader in my life but I recently become obsessed with this threesome so I'm DEFINITELY writing more, I tried something with your absolutely amazing prompt with some of my favorite kinks sooo, I hope you like it. ♡

***

⸻Checkmate

Daemond x Female!Reader - Daemon Targaryen x Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader (Threesome smut - Dom/Sub)

⸻ Summary: Battles and wars rage outside, but the one in bed with your lovers, King and Prince are more important than the rest of the world.

Tags: Established relationship, Shameless Smut, Threesome F/M/M, PWP, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Soft!Dom - Sub, Armor / Sword / Mommy / Breeding kink, Orgasm, Aftercare, She/Her reader

⸻ Read on Ao3

Notes: I’m now obsessed with this pairing so offering you more Daemond x Female!reader - This is soft!dom Daemon and sub!Aemond and reader, I put some of my favorite kinks in here so read at your own risks. (read tags!) Requested by anon on Tumblr, hope you like it. ♡

Tumblr for ideas/requests: @imthefemalemonster

Smut prompts: here & here

⸻ Words: 3874

The cold air of the morning mercilessly hit your body as you were standing inside the tent, on your knees, waiting. You were ready, just like you were asked to be once the sun would set. Your lovers had yet to arrive. The battle was raging near, everything you hoped for was seeing them come back. Often you were coming with Daemon and Aemond. Because Daemon was possessive, dominant, because it’s the way you built the relationship. He would not let his lovers, his pets, his sexual partners away for long. He craved you both near him, at all times, despite the risks. All three of you were living for the risks, it only made things better.

When Daemon would come back, you would both heal his wounds if needed, ease his pain, and most of the time please him until your bodies couldn’t take it anymore. Never would he let you get hurt, but never would he let you disobey either. It was a relationship of power and strengths, he possessed both, you were his, as was Aemond.

The relationship had started only between you and Daemon. He had once conquered your castle, then your mind, your heart, your body. A love soft and dominating. Daemon never hid how he considered your relationship, he wanted you to be a good, submissive wife, he would treat you well, love you, protect you, and you would obey, you would give away to all his desires. It satisfied you both. But as time had passed, you met with several people, some you never cared about, some who interested you. Both Daemon and you were not against another person joining, but no one ever lived up to your desires or expectations, until you met with Aemond. It has never crossed your mind before meeting him, fiercely fighting, showing off at the training ground, but who else than a younger, as arrogant and clever, as strong and brave as Daemon, could fit better? Daemon read your mind like an open book when you started to show interest in his nephew. It both surprised you, but Aemond never hid his obsession for long with you both. So it started, Aemond and you, the Rogue Prince’s lovers, little pets, Prince and Princess like he loved to call you. He was not your Prince, not the Slayer or the Rogue, he was your King.

Relief filled your heart and body when softly, Aemond entered the tent, breathless, but alive and well at first sight. You both exchanged a soft smile, no words needed, work was to be done. If he was there, Daemon wasn’t far. Aemond lost no time, he moved toward you, you were kneeling next to your King’s chair, which was facing the tent’s entrance. You stood still at the left side while Aemond was removing his armor, clothes in a sensual haste. Brushing some part of his skin, torso and arms with a fabric, he kneeled in front of you when he was done. His hair loose, eyepatch off as the dark lilac contrasted with the bright blue. He risked a move, brushing your chin with his fingers, a gentle motion to indicate, without words needed, that all was fine. The battle went smoothly, another victory, which would only mean that the man would come back eager, ready and hungry.

“Don’t fucking touch what’s not yours.”

The voice, guttural, but with a soft tone to it, a threat, but which felt more like an invitation. Aemond withdrew his hand, head down as he faced toward his uncle. The man fierce, standing at the tent’s entrance, the smoke and light of the day outlining his impressive armor and posture. A threat and a treat.

“My Princess”, he whispered, advancing toward the chair. When he reached your body, knees on the floor, a smirk was born on his lips, satisfied, pleased, burning with anticipation, with need. You were wearing the short silk dress he loved so much, outlining perfectly your body, breast, hips, waist. Your legs nude for his lustful eyes, collarbone and neck ready for ruination. Head tilting, you looked up to him, your name was a signal, you were authorized to look up.

Eye on the floor, Aemond breath was quiet and regular, almost inaudible. Daemon went past him, standing in front of his chair, turning back to face the tent’s entrance, both his lovers at his feet. He softly caressed your head, thumb running circles in a gentle but controlling manner, you were waiting for any orders, anything that would please him, the usual or not.

“Aemond. Look at me.”, he turned his head to his nephew, who raised his eyes immediately, “Clean Dark Sister’s hilt. Let’s play with it a little today.”, he grinned. Aemond only nodded, catching the long and heavy sword, hands shaking. It was both an honor, and mysteriously menacing too. The younger Prince did as he was told, fabric in hand, carefully cleaning his uncle’s sword. While he was working, Daemon turned his attention back to you, the vile smirk still on his lips. Wrinkling your eyes, soft smile on your face, cheeks reddened but body shivering at the cold, you looked perfect, naive, innocent, ruinable, a body to manhandle as he wished, the one he loved to desire, to hold, to take care of.

“Take my pants off, sweet Princess”, he breathed, voice low, like it danced on the wind, “I’ll keep the top, I know my sweetheart will love to rut against it while Aemond has some fun with his new toy.”

Head tilting, resting on your shoulders, you smirked. So it has begun, the game. You nod, still on your knees as you advance to carefully take him off his armor, only the bottom part, then the pants, the underwear, freeing the large and angry shaft resting inside. Heart racing, you bit your lips at the sight, how impressive he was, both in armor and with his cock out. Mouth salivating, you withdrew your hand from his crotch, waiting for more commands. Aemond had moved back next to the chair as Daemon sat on it, with enough space next for you.

“At my side Princess, mouth open and ready.”, he rasped. You stood up, like a feline, crawling at his side, both hands on his armor, painted with blood, dirt and other substances unrecognizable. Still on your knees, breast squeezed against the hard material, sensitive and hard nipples burning hot against the cold. He hummed, lips brushing yours as you clung to his armor, fingers inside the collar.

“Aemond”, he called, turning his head to his nephew, standing between his opened legs and visible member, ignoring your needy lips as you pouted, “You’ll take care of that hilt will you? Lick it till it’s clean and it shines. Maybe then you’ll deserve to choke on my cock.”

Aemond lips slightly parted away as he met your excited gaze, both you and Daemon staring down at him. He obeyed, raising his body a little to reach for the top, holding the heavy blade still while his tongue assaulted the hilt. Daemon watched as the younger Prince’s mouth moved around, saliva dripping, noises loud and wet while sucking the top on his mouth. A hand behind your back, holding you close, your breast was languidly rubbing against the hard armor. You sensed his fingernails digging in the frail fabric against your skin, a signal you understood immediately as you leaned in, lips closing around his left earlobe, teeth nibbling at the rough skin.

“You look so good beneath me, little Prince.” Daemon raised his hand, a message for Aemond to stop, “Good boy. Never been cleaner.”, he laughed darkly, “Now get over here, suck my cock and give us a good show.”

Aemond happily obliged, moving closer, a hand resting on his thigh as the other reached for the hardened base, gripping the cock in full hand. Your lips left Daemon’s earlobe, focusing on his cheek, Aemond in your peripheral vision, shyly licking the top, tongue circling around, playing with the precum dripping at the head. The sight had you shaking, thighs squeezing as your core burned, absolutely wet when Aemond lowered his head, bobbing on the large cock, moaning when it reached deep inside his throat.

“Is this making you wet?”, rasped Daemon against your cheek, skin shivering at the words. You whined when his hand left your back to travel to your waist, then the inside of your thighs, Aemond gagging noises, fast pace having you desperate, cunt aching, begging for any touch. You weren’t wearing anything under the silk dress, as Daemon commanded. His fingers painfully scratched the skin, reaching for your slit, a grin on his face as he savored having you waiting, unable to beg or ask for friction. You will wait, endure as he pleases.

Aemond moaned loudly, his uncle’s body tensing, as he gagged, taking his dick faster and deeper, stroking the cock as its base, pushing it inside mercilessly. A hand in Aemond’s loosened hair, Daemon finally let his fingers slide needily against your burning core, your wetness as lube. He pressed two fingers against your lips, parting them as his thumb aggressively assaulted your clit, drawing whines and sobs out of you as your hips rubbed against his harsh digits.

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You moaned, no words allowed yet, head nodding, erratic, hot, burning. No thoughts, only Daemon fingers teasing your insides.

“Speak.”

Swallowing back saliva, some drops dripping on your chin, you stared into his dark lilac eyes.

“Y-yes.” He raised an eyebrow, waiting. It was hard to focus, Aemond moans and wet pop in your ears as Daemon’s cock left his mouth, face red and lips swollen, “I nee-need you - your fingers.”

“Where?”

“In-inside me.”, you whined.

He grinned. ‘Good girl’. Finally he entered, two fingers at once, no mercy, only chasing his own pleasure as he watched your face, your body and cunt melting around him. Hips rutting, meeting the harsh trust of his digits, lips collapsing together as he grabbed your chin, eating your mouth as everything he ever owned depended on it. Nipples scratching against the fabric and his armor, Aemond observed your blissful figure, from your legs shaking, hands lost on Daemon’s hair, loosening them, the shape of your breast showing through the clothes. He waited, cock hardened, painful against his own pants, drunk into the sinful sight of his King and Princess.

You screamed when Daemon split his finger inside, scissoring you open, his wrists’ motions rough against you clenching walls. You were close, so close he could feel it too, and as he knew, he paced faster and faster, nails scratching inside. You felt like your hole would eat him whole and never let him leave, your core taking the shape of his digits forever. Stomach aching, your body ablaze, vision fading to black as you came on his fingers.

“Fuck”, moaned Daemon, the both of you breathing heavily, “All that only from my fingers Princess?”, he smirked, “What will it be when you sink on my cock?”

You smiled, overwhelmed but satisfied, thinking you could ride him instantly despite the orgasm, mind hazy with lust only. Daemon turned his attention to his nephew, his knees as painful as his cock, still watching you, stroking him the best he could through the fabric.

“Open”, ordered Daemon, pressing his fingers full of your juices against Aemond eager lips. He opened, taking his tongue out, circling it around the older man’s digits, drinking it like a nectar offered by the gods themselves. Daemon grabbed your neck with his other hand, squeezing it slightly. “Dress off, and get on the bed, pretty girl.”

You obliged as he let you go, walking the best you could the few centimeters separating you from the bed, crawling onto the mattress and drowning into the soft sheets, legs spread, back against the cushions. Daemon abruptly stood up, you could see in him the patience growing thin, his cock sucked but still too neglected for him, he needed a release inside one of you, possibly both if the man could do it. Aemond watched him as he undressed, the rest of the armor and the clothes hitting the floor in grand nonchalance. He moved toward the bed, hand signaling Aemond to follow him.

“Take your pants off”, he rasped toward his nephew, “You are riding me first, be good and I shall let you cum.”

Aemond nodded, licking his lips, exchanging a quick excited glance with you as you took out your tongue in a childish gesture, a silent but arrogant laugh on his face. Daemon approached you, caressing your cheeks, fingernails scratching the skin in a possessive manner.

“You’ll mount that vigorous cock too, pretty Princess. But now your King desires that sweet whorish-breast around his lips.”, he paused, “So be a good girl and spread your legs.”

Your submission aroused him you knew, so slightly parting away your lips, humming, legs spread, elbow bend, hands withdrawn around your face, you waited for him to take you, possess you whole. He sat on the bed, mattress shifting under his weight as he rested his back between your legs, head on your breasts. Aemond followed, swift and silent as usual, shaft hard and leaking, hiding his arousal at the idea of finally riding his uncle behind his perfectly played submission to his elder. The younger Prince climbed on top of Daemon, the older man losing no time as he grabbed his thin waist and hungrily sank him down on his cock, hole dry and unprepared.

“U-uncle!”, the yell only annoyed Daemon who dug his fingers deeper into Aemond’s waist, bruising the skin. You sensed his body shift as he pushed you deeper into the cushion, you stood on your elbows trying not to get crushed under his weight, his back broad against your sensitive breast.

“Did I tell you to talk?”

The Prince shook his head, breath heavy, head inside him, scratching painfully at the entrance.

“That’s how you call me?”, questioned Daemon, voice low, filled with a mix of lust and menace, “Is that how I told you to call me?”

“N-no.”, stuttered Aemond.

“Behave.” Daemon’s jaw clenched.

Aemond placed both hands on Daemon belly, his whole body tensing, cock filling him up to the brim. He was used to this cock, his whole adapting fast, but the burning sensation was surprising at first, explaining the sudden yell. But he was good, always, so he took it. Lowering himself completely he moaned loudly, immediately

“Louder”, ordered Daemon, “Louder boy, you can be louder can’t you?”

Aemond nodded, raising his legs, a sinful gesture before sinking back down again, mouth open, tongue out, fucking himself open on his uncle large cock. Each thrust felt like it reached deeper, it opened him larger and larger, walls clenching around Daemon as the older man grunted at the sensation.

“Tight”, he grunted, “Still so tight after taking so much dick up his ass.” Daemon’s comments only made Aemond’s pace faster, more desperate, erratic, his own cock leaking, bouncing against his belly as he worked himself on top of Daemon. Letting his nephew fuck himself on him, Daemon turned his head to you, your burning core against his back, fingers playing with your sensitive nipples as you watched Aemond moans and ride his uncle’s cock. Your body shivered as you felt a hot, wet sensation, observing as Daemon had slightly moved to your right side, head resting under your breast, pressing kisses and biting the soft skin. Right hand firm on Aemond waist, his left hand moved to grope your left breast, vigorously massaging it, palm full of it as it rubbed against the sensitive bud. His mouth found your right nipples as your arm held his head close in a nurturing gesture, fingers smoothing his hair. His lips closed around the pink bud, sucking it noisily in his mouth as he bited it repetitively. He broke contact, catching his breath as he eagerly licked long stripes.

“When you’ll be full of me”, he mewled against you, words going through you, his breath penetrating deep, “I’ll feed off you little Princess. I’ll be hungrier than you for my cock and mouth around and in that sweet pussy.”

The idea had you moaning, accompanied by his harsh tongue assaulting the bud. Full of him, swelling with his child. It wasn’t a desire, it was a need. Both for your future child that you couldn’t wait to hold and love, but for him too. What he had loved first with you was your motherly gestures, your mother-like personality, your maternal embrace. You didn’t know much about his, but the instant you got intimate, you knew he needed control as much as reassurance in the arms of the women he loved. You never refused him, if he wanted to be cradled in your arm, you would oblige. It made you feel whole, happy, content. The sexual appeal to it only made it better.

You were taken out of your thoughts as you felt Daemon shift, leaving your breast wet and sweaty, cunt still dripping wet and needy. He must have felt it considering the way he stood up. Aemond had not stopped thrusting but had gotten slower and slower, approaching release, but his uncle had other plans in mind.

“No cumming for you yet. Get off my cock.”, grinned the older man. Aemond obeyed, not without letting a sob out when he felt empty, cock hurting and burning as he grabbed it, knowing he couldn’t stroke himself but trying to hold on to it and focus. “Remember your place.”, breathed Daemon, a finger going from Aemond’s base to the top, digit pushing against it playing with the precum as his nephew cried out, silently begging.

“You turn, Princess”

You moved aside, letting him move back into the cushion. You were surprised when he didn’t let his back fall on them, instead he stood still, legs spread and slightly bent, steadying himself on one hand.

“Turn me on love.”, he breathed, the other hand stroking his cock gently, slow but harsh motions, breath heavy as he wouldn’t hold long his release.

Moving above him, wet and shaky, he let go of his cock to grab your waist, not pushing you on his length, waiting for you to guide his cock inside, your soft fingers on his burning member ripping a dark guttural groan of him. He wouldn’t hold a few thrust before coming.

“Come here my slutty Prince”, he voiced toward Aemond, the boy lost in his thoughts, hand still at his hardened base. He moved Daemon’s right side, on his knees, still gripping himself so hard he thought he could sever his own cock.

“Kiss.”, the Rogue Prince ordered. You hesitated no second as your lips crushed against Aemond’s, mouths and tongues meeting in each other, loudly, desperately fucking each others lips.

“Come pretty boy, all over us.”, commanded Daemon as his nephew was painfully stroking his member.

The motions of your lips, the noises and deep kisses, tongues massaging one another were enough for Aemond as he aggressively fisted his cock between his two lovers, yelling incoherently as he came, hips jerking forward, breaths erratic.

“Good boy.”, grunted Daemon, his hands now on your waist, pushing you down on him, hips meeting yours at an harsh, irregular pace as your legs and breast were bouncing in a synchronized and mesmerizing rhythm in the full view of the two hungry men. You wanted to scream, yell as you moved up and down Daemon’s shaft, his cock, veins, every details scratching open your inside, walls clenched so tight it overwhelmed you in pleasure, eyes closed, only focused on your pace. With each thrust now, accompanied by Daemon’s animalistic grunts, you could feel him hitting spots deeper and deeper within you, his motions feeling like he wanted his seed so deep it would reach your stomach, even your throat, your whole and entire body if he forced hard enough.

“Fuck, fuck!”, shouted Daemon, grabbing Aemond’s hand which rested on his own knee, fingers meeting, like he needed his support, like he wanted him to join. You three were connected as he spilled inside, as waves crashed through you, like ships on the uncompromising, violent sea. “Take it all pretty. All my seed. Want you to swell with our child soon. Want to breed you so good you’ll ask again and again.” You wrapped his cock, milking him to the last drop, making sure none would go to waste as you rested on his legs, needing both the men’s physical support not to simply faint on the bed, overwhelmed by the orgasm.

A few minutes passed. Breaths steady, Daemon motioned toward you with his head, a silent message for Aemond to hold you until you could move on your own. The younger Prince moved his hand around your waist, laying you down on the bed above the sheets, resting at your side, slightly above you as he caressed your head. Daemon had stood up, moving inside the tent away from the bed.

“It didn’t hurt love?”, he questioned, looking toward Aemond.

“It w-was just…surprising”, smirked Aemond, shrugging his shoulders.

Daemon laughed, reaching for the table, wetting a cloth.

“I know you can take it”, said Daemon, raising his eyebrow, it was not a question but a fact, “I know you love it too.”

Coming down from your high, eyes partly opened, you smirked looking at Aemond as he smiled back. There was always complicity between the two of you, maybe the link between, two dominated who knew each other all too well.

“Both of you want to make me mad don’t you, little slutty things?”, husked Daemon, hand gesturing toward the both of you, “I wonder who plays with who sometimes.”

“Hm. A little menace… disobedience makes you fuck even better”, whispered Aemond, hand brushing yours in a loving gesture.

“It’s the flame in your eyes”, you murmured, fingers intertwined as Daemon approached again, the wet cloth in hand, “A little threat makes us a bit more aroused, even more submissive.”

“I can see that”, commented Daemon, delicately washing your core off the sweat and wetness, “But I mustn't go too far.”

You shivered at the friction, Daemon’s touches leaving you to help clean Aemond, the men exchanging a quick kiss and caresses. You bit your lips, he wouldn’t hurt you, ever. He liked control, he liked the submissive bond you both had with him, your motherly breast and touch, Aemond’s likeness to a younger him he loved to dominate, to conquer.

Done with you both, Daemon joined you in bed, his broad body next to Aemond’s who rested his head against his shoulder and scars, eye closed, already meeting with sweet dreams. Nobody said anything anymore, it was time for silent love, unsaid words and delicate touches, you climbed on top of Daemon as he brushed the back of your neck, legs resting between his, head facing Aemond’s. You closed your eyes, full of your King, soon his child you hoped, soothed by the noises of the wind dancing outside and the breaths of your lovers.

[abysskeeper]

WHABAM!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Yay, thank you! Ok, I'm back from a weekend trip now and can pick 5 I think. I'll mix it up for fandom and go in order of publication.

A Thousand Ways to (Never) Say "I Love You" - Baldur's Gate 3, Gale/Tav (Named F!Tav), act 2, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff with a sad ending Gale hasn't been the same since Elminster delivered the charge from Mystra. Nox has finally figured out how to offer a distraction, at least for a few hours. It does not go quite according to plan. Please read this. I understand it's a 13.5k one-shot but I poured a lot of heart and time into it. It's spawned a 6 part series dealing with act 2 and I'm simultaneously working on parts 2 and 4 because I'm so incredibly normal about wizards.

Just You, Just Me - Baldur's Gate 3, Wyll/Tav (Named F!Tav), act 3, childhood friends to lovers, fluff Late one evening on the road to Baldur's Gate, Wyll is pulled away from camp by the sweet sounds of a violin. The woman he finds playing is familiar; unfortunately, he had hoped to never see her again. Result of my first Tav. Unlike the 30-something wizards above, Fi and Wyll really are just two kids trying their best, and I should write more for them.

Exit, Stage Right - The Great Ace Attorney, Herlock Sholmes/Mikotoba Yujin, Herlock Sholmes & Iris Watson, canon compliant, fluff and hurt/comfort A proper homecoming, a precious hour and a half before they needed to step on stage for the final act, and more than enough of a fool's notion of sentimentality. Herlock Sholmes was set to enjoy what little time he had with his partner before the grand finale of their ten year dance. It was a shame, then, that he had to ruin it. 3 months and nearly 20k words for a hyperspecific headcanon that maybe one other person has and appreciates. Also one of my most favorite things I've ever written.

Rebirth (oh cursed cycle that you are) - RWBY, Oscar Pine & Ozpin, volume 8 canon divergence, character study There's a fullness in his mind that's ready to burst at the seams. There's a clawing in his heart searching for the presence now missing. When Oscar said he didn't want the merge to happen, he didn't realize how close he really was to having everything he never wanted. Tied for first as my favorite thing I've ever written for RWBY*, and easily one of the top five things I've ever written at all. Weird and speculative are what Oscar deserves for his situation.

Under Guise - SWTOR, Jedi Consular/Cipher Nine, OCxOC, fluff, Tumblr prompt fill A night at an Alderaanian ball is not exactly how Trick wants to be spending her time. Pestered by a man she has a distaste for even less so. Until suddenly, it was exactly what she wanted. Beloveds having fun. For as much as I dislike looking back and editing some stuff, this has really withstood the test of time, and I had an absolute blast writing it.

*(Bonus shout out to Chapter 4: Interlude: Children of Fate of my fic A Funny Little Thing Called Trust. I can't recommend the whole fic because I do someday want to go back and edit it up to my current standards, but the chapter itself is the other thing tied for first as the best thing I've ever written for RWBY)

[house-of-laminations]

Hiiii ! I love your blog sm :) I was just wondering if you had advice to give to fellow tumblr writers? Even though I'm tagging and stuff I'm still really struggling to be seen on my new blog and its a little disheartening. If you don't have advice for that specifically, do u have any advice for finding and developing ideas? I hope you're having a good day either way because you really seem so lovely 🧚

oh my goodness thank you 🧚anon 💛 I hope you're having a wonderful day too!

Full disclosure: I'm making up this writing blog thing as I go along. I didn't expect any of my stuff to draw the attention that it has so the whole 'visibility' thing feels a lot like luck. That being said, there's a few things I've picked up on my decade+ on this site, as well as some things from being a little internet and design savvy.

Tumblr tag functionality is and always will be a mystery. However in times of yore, the tags that took search priority are the first five tags. Work out which are the five most common tags relevant to your topic/fandom - the ones that get the most traffic, and prioritize those.

Don't be afraid to shamelessly promo and reblog your own stuff. Lord knows the like-to-reblog ratio is atrocious - the only way things show up on a dash without an algorithm is through reblogs.

Link back to your stuff within your post as much as you can! You may notice I include a little back to masterlist at the bottom of my writing posts. It's at the bottom, not the top, because readers that enjoy your work will have made it to the end of the post, and it saves them the effort of scrolling back to the top once they're done. It's also a not-so-subtle hint that you have even more work!

Make friends! Follow other writing blogs starting out - and even the bigger ones - and don't be afraid to reblog their own work. Scream at them in the tags. Talk about what you like! I think people would be surprised at how many people I follow back because of the tags they leave on my fics.

Never let it dishearten you to the point where you stop writing. To be frank, tumblr is one of the hardest platforms to build an audience on. Please don't take it as an indictment on your passion - it's literally a hellsite. To counteract this share your writing with friends that you trust. All my stuff I really only write for one, or maybe two people. And they know who they are. It's their support that keeps me writing - not my follow count or my notes. One of the favourite things I have written has the least amount of notes, go figure.

In terms of developing ideas, I have a few pointers here too:

Write what you love. I know that sounds like a cop-out, but you'll find that ideas come more naturally when you enjoy what you do. It doesn't matter if what you love is trope-filled and cliche. Those tropes and cliches exist for a reason, and that reason is everyone loves them.

On that note: visit TVTropes if you feel like you're struggling with ideas. Follow a few rabbit holes. You may lose an afternoon or five to it. Sorry not sorry.

Don't be afraid to do what's been done before. So what if there are twelve other fics about kissing pretty boys/girls/enbies under the mistletoe? This is your own take, and you can bet your ass people will appreciate it because you're the only you to exist.

Along both of these points - work out what it is exactly that drew you to this fandom/media/genre in the first place. What expectations did you have going in, and how were those subverted by reality? Can you play in your original expectations?

Don't be afraid of a good mash-up. "omg imagine [x] au" has become somewhat of a meme with a few of my friends. Sometimes an 'au' is just an excuse to play with the tropes of another genre and that's ok!

Prompt generators are your friend.

Don't write alone. Find a friend who will happily just listen to your ideas. They don't even have to be part of the fandom. If you're feeling particularly extroverted, you could even join one of the discords that are floating around. The point is to find someone to share your ideas with so they can be excited with and for you. If you're anything like me it may also help to keep you accountable.

Consume other media. Don't let one fandom dominate. Go outside for a walk and experience life. This sounds cliche again, but sometimes all it takes to come up with new ideas is to just. Give yourself a break. Walk away and come back. And its hard to come up with ideas if you dig yourself into a single-media-hole.

I could honestly write a massive post on creating ideas and brainstorming because it's my favorite part of the creative process. It can be fun - There's so much potential at that point. But yeah this is getting long. I hope this helps! 💛

[xxsycamore]

Hello! I have never participated in kinktober before but I have written something and was wondering how it works? I have actually never posted anything I've written before. Do I send it to you first to be approved? Do I wait and post it in October on the day? Do you reblog it once it's tagged? (Again sorry totally new to this) Thank you! Love your works!

Hello and thank you for reaching out, I'm always glad to be of help! :) Don't apologize for anything, I totally get why challenges like this one might be a bit of a headache to figure out as a novice, as there are quite a few unwritten rules surrounding them. I'll try to explain in simple terms but you're always welcome to ask additional questions in case something is still unclear! ❤

-----

-> Participating in most content creation challenges of this kind (at least on this side of tumblr, can't talk much beyond mobile otome tumblr) is actually quite subjective. For you to be considered participating in such challenge, it is often enough in your post to be mentioned something among the lines of, this work is part of x challenge.

-> Of course, this is mostly related to challenges where you're provided themes to create for, like prompt lists. I won't go into detail about what other kinds exist, but for instance, a fandom gift exchange event requires you to sign up via filling a special form regarding the details around creating a gift and receiving a gift. But to answer your question, and especially for my Visions of Temptation challenge: Do I send it to you first to be approved? - No, you don't have to do that! In order to participate, as a writer such as yourself, you simply write a fic, post it mentioning that it's written for said challenge, tag this blog, and voilà!

you might know this already, but also: by putting in the hashtags the fandom and characters of your work, you will make it easily findable for others browsing these hastags. Additionally, my challenge uses the special hashtag #visions of temptation 2022, so make sure to include that as well! :) That way we can all easily browse through the challenge creations!

Do I wait and post it in October on the day? - Preferably, yes. Following the list according to the dates is practically what makes this a challenge, so many of us will try to do that. But hey, there are no hard rules here. You won't get judged or disqualified or anything like that for not following the supposed posting dates. In fact, many entries are posted waaay later than the period of the challenge! I'm a good example, as I still have four fics to finish from last year's... 👉🏻👈🏻(and here i need to add, you don't have to be like me and try to complete all 31 days if it's more than what you can bear! Make sure not to overwhelm yourself <3 even just one work is enough too!) In the same way, creations posted earlier than the challenge dates are welcomed too! :)

Do you reblog it once it's tagged? - I do that, but not as a rule. I only do it out of my personal desire to support and appreciate participants, and I do it from my main blog @kissmetwicekissmedeadly , under #vot 22 reblogs (and usually, days and weeks after the works are posted... I'm often very busy :( ) . I leave a little comment on stuff that I like sometimes, but sometimes I'm too tired to say anything, and I can't promise that I'm gonna reblog everything too.

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I hope that helps! Once again, feel free to ask about whatever else you're unfamiliar with, especially considering that you haven't posted anything before. My DMs are open too, in case you feel more comfortable with that. I'd be glad to help you out in your fic-posting journey! <3 Thank you for enjoying my works, I'm thrilled to hear that and I hope that you can continue to do so in the future ❤ Have a nice day!

[smilingperformer]

Discussing the good and bad of Pokémon Journeys: Part “Goh”

Oh boi... this part is gonna be a doozy. Because I have a lot to talk about Goh, or as I tend to call him, Gou.

TLDR; I like Gou as a character but I very, very much have issues with the way he's currently written in the show. And that frustrates me deeply as I'd love to feel more positively about him. More under the cut, with Journeys abverted as JN.

Where do I even begin... Maybe by how I first became a fan of Gou's character, by after some time started to go back to neutral ground.

Like, ever since the very first episode, we've got a very clear picture of what kind of character Gou is: a bookworm, loves Pokémon, loves to show his knowledge and isn't exactly good at making friends. His only friend before Satoshi (and before learning about Tokio/Horace's reasonings for not showing up to their meeting place) was Chloe/Koharu, and we still don't know how the two met. Thou my guess is that their childhood friendship bonded over their parents meeting during some job or by Koharu feeling the need to be Gou's friend. Who knows, it's something I want to learn about. But that's besides the point, cough.

But like, from the very first episode on, it became clear that this show wants to focus on Gou, and telling his journey on becoming a Pokémon Trainer who wants to catch all of the Pokémon in the World, in order to get closer to catching Mew, the mythical Pokémon who's said to contain DNA of all existing Pokémon. He had a very strong introduction arc, with showing his dynamic with Koharu, having him meet Satoshi on top of Lugia, first getting to know Satoshi (and Rockets) and then catching his first partner Pokémon in Hibunny. However, as time went on and episodes started piling up, I started feeling like something about him was... off.

I feel like the first time I had an issue with the writing involving him was in JN006, where he went on his first catching spree. Where he kept catching Pokémon with ease. Small struggle at the start when trying to work together his dynamic with Hibunny, but the rest of the ep felt way too easy. Then again, Gou IS flat out Pokémon GO promotion. No one can deny that. His purpose is to promote GO's capture mechanic. It is the most successful Pokémon Mobile game of all time.

Anyway, the easy captures piled up on and on til JN010 when he finally had to use dozens of pokeballs to catch one. single. Dewgong. I loved this so much. It made me feel more at ease with his goal mechanic and I felt like I'd be fine with him from there on out. And I was. Til I started having new issues with him. All thanks to Satoshi's new goal in PWC finally having been established.

As time went on, it became clearer and clearer, that Gou was more focused on when it came to his goal progression, development in character level, and in what kind of quality his episodes would be.

Everyone knows how much I love JN032. Everyone does. It's one of my absolute fav episodes in the series. However, it also kinda is what first prompted me starting my worry that hasn't gone away since then: That Gou feels more like the protagonist than Satoshi does in this series, and not really an equal dual protag he was advertised to be.

Before the pitchforks are getting aimed at me, hear me out. I know, that based on some statistics, the focus is equal, with sliiiightly more inclinded towards Gou. However, that's where the issue is: Gou has, so far for me, had way better focus and way better episodes in this series, than Satoshi has, while also getting progress on his goal on other character's focus episodes. When Satoshi's episodes have been about PWC and training his Pokémon, Gou's had the kind of episodes that are more character exploring, developing him, evolving him in some way. And it, frustrates me. Because despite my better judgement, it gives me this feeling that Gou is stealing Satoshi's thunder, even when some type of statistics would suggest otherwise. It gives me this feeling that Gou is here to write Satoshi out. I do not like that I feel this way, I don't know how to get rid of this feeling and I hate it here.

Again, I like Gou's character, he's sweet, well developed, and I do enjoy seeing him in his own episodes. But I have come to noticed, than whenever he gets goal progression in an episode that's supposed to focus on Koharu or Satoshi, I feel so.... angry? And I've never, ever felt like this while watching other characters progress. And I know it's irrational.

Like, his main partner's already fully evolved, his secondary partner Sobble is already evolving soon despite only having one focus episode for itself before it, and he's caught all three of the Galar starters now, with some of his other not-that-important Pokémon making appearances every now and then with possible evolution showcases. And it's all done so fast. Same issue was with Satoshi's poketeam evolving in fast arcs, but I forgot to mention about it? But then again, I am somewhat fine with it as I get the writing style is to focus on one 'mon and then move on to another. Which is not to my taste completely but I digress. ANYWAY, back to Gou.

After seeing discussions and joining in on some on tumblr and twitter and elsewhere, it does appear that Gou's development speed and progression speed is incredibly fast. Like, seriously fast. He's caught a lot of Pokémon by now, and the show's already shown about 50% percent of all existing Pokémon in a bit over a year. About 30% being caught by Gou. (Statistics borrowed from EntityMays' Living Dex trackers, links in posts will disrupt showing in tag search so, google EntityMays's Living Dex, and you'll find the statistics there).

This is also very apparent when you think about how fast Gou suddenly became a good battler, when at the beginning he sucked. A lot. I get Satoshi could be a great example on learning how to battle with good strategy in mind, but we barely saw Gou struggle. We Satoshi struggle in OS, so I would have prefered more struggling by Gou. His first battle against a legendary ended up in Zapdos almost getting caught and uuuuuggh, while it's a pretty good episode it really should have been at later point, same with Suicune episode. Thou with the latter I have WAY more issues than just the placement but, I'm not gonna rant about that today.

And what should I say about his dynamics with other characters... They're good, I am a huge fan of how the dynamic between Koharu and Gou works, as their childhood friend dynamic is shown so, so well, and you can just tell the two have mutual respect as Gou gives Koharu the space she needed when she wasn't into Pokémon for a while, and when she then became partners with Eevee, Gou was so so SO darn supportive just, AGH. Love how these two work.

And everyone knows I fell for Gou x Tokio dynamic straight away. Like they had a friendship built up right away when they first met as little kids and Tokio missing out on their promised meeting due to being sick and not having any means of contacting him yes still considered Gou his friend after these years when Gou considered him a traitor of trust and Gou then forgives him for it and just aaaaaahhh-. KRHM. Excuse me.

Then there's Gou and Satoshi's dynamic and I already said in my post about Satoshi how I feel intimidated by the fans of their shipping and how it makes me feel.... kinda sad about not being able to like their dynamic for what it is. I LOVE it a ton. I have said it a countless times, they're a broTP to me. They're dynamic was very enjoyable for me to watch, and even Gou was. But like, on TOP of these issues I mentioned before this part, I also have another issue with Gou: his fanbase, or the crazier part of it.

Often times I feel like I'm unable to enjoy Gou's character without being reminded of the fans who constantly think of him as shipping fuel, or think he's flawless and anyone disagreering is in some form a negative trait filled human being, etc etc etc. In a way, I feel like I'd enjoy Gou and his dynamic with Satoshi way, way more, if I had never learned about this side of the fandom. Let people like their dynamic the way they want. Be it romantic or platonic. Neither is wrong, but pushing one side to push their own headcanon to other people's head is just, bad act. Having this feeling in me has actually made me wonder, whether I would have liked other characters I am such a huge fan of, if I had been watching their shows during their airing times (for example Serena).

Now what would I have done differently with Gou? Firstly, slow the fuck down. I would have prefered to see Hibunny way more. I would have prefered to have one Galar Starter, namely Grookey, go to Satoshi, as it would help me feel less like Gou's stealing his thunder. I would have prefered if Gou and Satoshi's goals were established around same time. I would have very much liked it, if Gou wouldn't be catching Pokémon each episode.

Now what COULD help me like him better from what we have by now? Well. Slow it down. Have him interact with Koharu more. Give him a rival to further make him shine on his own instead of seemingly relying on Satoshi to shine through. Hell, maybe make Tokio his friendly rival. And on top of that, please let him not catch Pokémon almost every single episode. I'd love an episode where he captures some Pokémon that prefers to be free, and he then would let it go. I think that would make his character be good on his own, and make me feel better about him once again.

Cough. I think I've got my point clear. As said, I like Gou, but very much dislike the way he's written in such fast pacing and in a way that, despite statistics stating otherwise, making him feel like he's the sole protag and not sharing spotlight as dual protag. And I hope to god I can get rid of this feeling as the series goes on. Because right now, I don't have high hopes :(

If you've read this far, thank you for reading, and I am so, so sorry this became a long long rant about the issues I have with Gou, but I hope I managed to bring out what I like about him as well. Hopefully next time's gonna be a more positive post, as I'll try writing about my full on feelings about the handling of Koharu, or as dub audience knows her, Chloe.

Once again, thanks for reading, have a good evening or morning or whatever time it is by the time you've read this, and I hope you'll have a fantastic time ♥ And as a reminder, these are just my opinions, and if you disagree, you are totally valid.

Til next time! This was Smiling Performer aka Aleira, signing out!

[tamiettitami]

for this month's recommendations, i decided to go with the theme KISSES GALORE in honour of valentine's day. all of the below works have been posted in the month of february 2021 and hand selected by me <3

Sowing Discord by @chronologicalimplosion

A group of hyper-religious, homophobic protesters on campus ruins David's post-lunch good mood and he sends a half-joking message to the LGBTQ+ Discord server about staging a counterprotest. Constant lurker Patrick comes running.

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 4,089 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Original Characters, Alternative Universe, Alternative Universe - College/University, Homophobia, First Kiss, Epistolary, kind of

"This work features the inclusion of messages sent in Discord channels, a social media app I've never seen interrogated into a fanfiction piece before. The perfect balance of humour as well as tenderness makes this the ideal read to round out the month of love."

falling into place like dominos by @davidbrewer

Alexis spins the bottle and Stevie doesn’t know if she wants it to stop in front of her, or if she’s hoping it points literally anywhere else. She thinks she’ll figure it out when it stops moving, but… even with the neck of the bottle unmistakably pointing at her foot, she still can’t identify what the feeling is. Is that happiness or dread settling in the pit of her stomach? Since when do those completely different things feel exactly the same? If she’s being honest, though, it feels like a combination of things. It’s that feeling you get right before you do something you know you might regret later… like throwing back a jello shot (which she wishes she had done), calling an ex at 3am, or maybe jumping out of a plane.

David and Patrick hold a second housewarming party, this time at their newly-renovated cottage. For old times' sake, they decide to play spin the bottle. Meanwhile, Stevie has been wrestling with her feelings for Alexis since she left for New York... and it never occurred to her that those feelings could flow both ways.

Rated M for MATURE AUDIENCES; 4,897 words; F/F; TAGGED for Stevie Budd & Alexis Rose, Stevie Budd/Alexis Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Post-Canon, Lesbian Stevie Budd, First (Real) Kiss, Alcohol, Spin the Bottle, Queer Themes, Sexuality Crisis, (Although it's more of a frustrated confusing than a crisis tbh)

"The author's ability to voice every character (but specifically Alexis) will never fail to astound me; their inner voice for Stevie is the most notable in this work, however. Even the friendship/sibling dynamics between David and Alexis and as well as Stevie and Patrick are absolute perfection. One of the best 'Housewarming' codas I've ever endulged in and I can confidently says so."

Until I Lose My Breath by @the-kellephant

How could she have missed the fact that she was in love with Twyla?

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 814 words; F/F; TAGGED for Stevie Budd/Twyla Sands, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Femslash February, Bisexual Stevie Budd, Lesbian Twyla Sands

"A lovely introspective piece about sapphic feelings and how they can often be blindsided by denial if not provided with the proper care or attention."

You can Stand Under my Umbrella by @agoodpersonrose

David thought the day couldn't possibly get any worse. But then it started to rain.

43. You both reach for the last umbrella in the store on a rainy day.

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 2,721 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Alternative Universe - Canon Divergence, Tumblr Prompt, Meet-Cute, First Kiss, First Meetings, Awkward Flirting, Kissing in the Rain, Umbrellas, Fluff and Humour, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Prompt Fill, One Shot

"I have nothing to say besides this is hands down the most cute way this prompt could've been filled and I applaud Becca for her ability to write such tender moments in a way underlined with laughs."

Ten Tender Kisses by @cheesecurdsgravyandfries

Ten drabbles featuring ten tender kisses.

Rated G for GENERAL AUDIENCES; 1,110 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Fluff, tender kisses, Canon Compliant

"Reading this was pure joy. The happiness I felt from the first drabble continued to grow the longer I scrolled which is truly a beautiful feeling. Their banter is so perfectly in character and the dynamic the author has created between David and Patrick is a skill I envy."

I Didn't Know it was a Crush, David by squigmistress

David and Patrick arrive home after The Premiere and David wants to talk more about some of the wild stuff Patrick said when he was high on pain meds. What he doesn't expect is Patrick's big, gay feelings. But damn, does he love him for it. OR Patrick needs emotional safety to process some feelings and, of course, David is more than happy to hold him through it.

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 1,548 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, david rose - Relationship, Queer Themes, Coming Out, Episode: s06e05 The Premiere, Coda, Feelings, Feelings Realisation, Gay, Canon Gay Character, Family Issues, Intimacy, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Anger

"Now, I've always been a sucker for introspective works, but this took it to a brand new level. It's such a fine needle to thread; however, the author does an astounding job at cataloguing the growth/development of Patrick's emotions."

Be your remedy by @jessx2231

Patrick closes his eyes and brings to mind all the times David has put on music while Patrick is engrossed in a book or his phone or even the occasional weekend work task. Eventually, David will slink into his space, just enough to rest his head in Patrick’s lap. He doesn’t always do so with the intent to fall asleep, but it’s usually not long before Patrick’s fingers involuntarily find their way into David’s hair — much like they are now — and David’s breath will even out for a while.

He can definitely make an abridged version of that happen.

Or, David can't sleep and Patrick helps.

Rated G for GENERAL AUDIENCES; Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings; 2,048 words; M/M; TAGGED for Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Fluff, Established Relationship, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Married Life, very mild descriptions of depressive symptoms, but really just some very soft sleepy boys

"A warm hug is the best way I can describe this. Also, I already knew I need a Patrick Brewer in my life, but this solidified that."

the paths that your eyes wander down by @anniemurphys apart of falling in love at a coffee shop by them, @thankstwy, and @landofsonlali

Written for the prompt: "Twyla and Alexis reunite in NYC."

Alexis finds Twyla at a tiny corner table.

Rated G for GENERAL AUDIENCES; 568 words; F/F; TAGGED for Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands, Post-Canon

"The absolute perfect romantic comedy moment paired with some of the most in-character Alexis dialogue I've seen in awhile, not to mention how beautifully the mutual pining is broken."

a sense of expectation hanging in the air by Anonymous (i'll add the author once reveals are out for the Season 7 collection !)

Stevie starts to realize she has feelings for Ruth. How long though, will it take for her to tell Ruth that?

Rated M for MATURE AUDIENCES; 6,548 words; F/F; TAGGED for Stevie Budd/Ruth Clancy, Stevie Budd & Alexis Rose & Twyla Sands, Stevie Budd & David Rose, Stevie Budd & Patrick Brewer, Alexis Rose/Twyla Sands, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Sharing a Bed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Making Out, Fluff, Texting, Female Friendship, Episode: s07e08 RMG, Workplace Relationship

"The support from Stevie's friends—Alexis, Twyla, David, and Patrick—is so incredibly lovely. Despite the secret crushes, Stevie and Ruth refuse to let anything get in the way of them getting together and it's such a wonderful thing to see them immediately all-in the relationship."

got a fistful of four leaf clovers by iphigenias

Two weeks before Christmas Alexis calls David.

“So I think I like someone,” she says.

Rated T for TEEN & UP AUDIENCES; 1,754 words; F/F; TAGGED for Post-Canon, Getting Together, Femslash February, home is a place AND a person!

"Alexis's slow burn of building feelings for Twyla melts my heart. That being said, the realistic depiction of the difficulties that come with change provides a certain depth to this story it needs."

[hopeintheashes]

Fic Writer Questions

@ashavahishta tagged "anyone who wants to play," so here we are!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

27 (several of which are collections of shorter fics that could stand alone, but it made sense to group them instead)

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

132,178 so far!

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

AO3 says seven: 9-1-1, Supernatural, Criminal Minds, White Collar/Suits (that one's a crossover), MCU, and Teen Wolf. Elsewhere, I've written for another... *counts* at least six or seven? So let's round up to fifteen. :-)

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

#1: Warmth #2: Hazards #3: not like it hurts much anyway #4: They Don't Love You Like I Love You #5: Home (Show Me Where the Light Is)

That's not the list I was expecting! Clearly I never look at my statistics page, lol.

5) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

not like it hurts much anyway and Enough have similarly angsty endings but Enough has less of a path forward so I think it wins.

Second Hand is up there, too, actually, but that's because it's set at a super angsty point in canon, so I don't know how that fits in.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Show Me Where the Light Is will probably win in the end (oh god, is it dangerous to say that before I finish writing it?) in terms of big picture happiness. The "kissing the other’s brow" touch prompt fill (tumblr//AO3) is the only thing I can think of that is all fluff and zero angst. (I think of Sea Otters and Bumblebees as having a little bit of angst just because the source material is SO angsty it's impossible not to, but that's extremely fluffy, too.)

7) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

So far, only one: Stay (White Collar/Suits). Same network, same city, same timeframe; seemed logical to me! (Also the primary pairings for both of those shows are not things I would write, so I had to get creative!)

8) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Not very often. The most explicit stuff I've ever written is in Stay. There's a little bit at the end of shook the best when your love was home, too. So far, I've never set out to write it, but if it fits the story, I'm not opposed.

9) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

On LJ I always did. When I made the leap to AO3 I couldn't figure out what the culture/expectations around that was, so I didn't. When I started writing for 9-1-1, I replied to everything. When that started getting stressful, I gave myself permission to pick and choose. Comments that mention something the person liked/related to/has thoughts about will almost certainly get a reply; the short and sweet ones where the only possible answer is "thanks!" are sometimes replied to and sometimes not, especially if the same person is going through and commenting on a lot of chapters/fics in a row (which I LOVE and appreciate very much, but I don't feel like either of us is missing out if that person gets one thank you rather than a full dozen). There's also a category of comments where I'm like... how were you hoping I would respond to this? And so I don't.

10) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not as such, no, but people have expressed their feelings about my fics, especially the ones that that have tragic or unresolved endings, in very strong terms and I'm... not sure how they mean it, sometimes? Like, are the yelling at me in a hyperbolic internet way, or are they actually yelling at me? I don't really know how to deal with that. Also, there's a constant tension between my desire for people to experience my writing like they would a book, which means not spoiling plot points, and the ever-changing conventions about what is expected to get tagged. I'm trying to figure it all out while also accepting that there is absolutely no way to make everyone happy.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge?

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but if/when I finally write that "Buck with stress fevers" series, @renecdote is absolutely getting credit for co-creating the ideas. :-)

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

I don't think I have one! It just depends on what I'm into at the moment. With a small number of exceptions, shipping really isn't what draws me to a show, or what keeps me in the fandom once I'm there.

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

So far, everything is still officially in progress!

16) What are your writing strengths?

Um... let's go with emotions and imagery.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

I don't usually feel the need to research or rewatch before writing, so my writing is often handwavey in a way that I'm sure drives some people up the wall. I also have no patience once I have a full draft of something, so there are always typos to be fixed after I post. Also, I just keep writing variations of the same thing, but so far people don't seem to mind.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

*glances at the discourse tag* *nopes the fuck out of this question*

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

And showed that writing to anyone else? Supernatural.

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I know I always say Maps but I'll switch it up this time... Can I say the entirety of Home? (Warmth-Hazards-Show Me Where the Light Is.) It just makes me really happy. :-) Also, I genuinely like the complexity (in the "no easy answers" sense) of not like it hurts much anyway. I tend to talk myself out of writing that kind of stuff because of the whole getting yelled at thing but maybe I shouldn't? I don't know.

these are fun but also super time-intensive; god, I hope people actually read them...

Tagging: @buckupbuttercup, @renecdote, @fleurdebeton, @dancer-me (look, I'm actually going out on a limb and tagging new people! hi!), and @ anyone who wants to; no, seriously, I mean YOU!

[strangergrove]

× VOL 001 × 04.19.2020 ×

TUMBLR | @bambixxblue AO3 | moonlight_xx

× these hearts adore (every other beat, the other one beats for) ×

WORD COUNT: 10,569

CHAPTERS: 2/?

My Tumblr prompt fics all in one place. Some pining, some angst, but usually always a damn happy ending.

1. peach, curve of an ear, coffee grounds, veined hands, thunder

2. ways to say 'i love you' - 'i brought you an umbrella.'

The writing in this is so exquisite. It feels like cracking open a favourite book on a rainy Sunday morning, when the rest of the world is still asleep. It's comforting and poetic and incredibly heartwarming.

The first chapter takes us along on a sweet little vacation to California, a last hurrah of sorts, before the kids head off to college. It's sweet and peach-soaked and you can feel the ocean breeze against your skin with every passing word. It's the exact brand of happiness our boys deserve.

The second part is an achingly beautiful redemption for Billy. He learns how to let his wounds heal, learns how to let others in, learns how to trust and love. His initial interactions when he meets Steve are so precious and it shows how complex of a person he is, the softness beneath his concrete shell. I will devour any update to this amazing collection.

× the light of day shows me how ×

WORD COUNT: 39,173

CHAPTERS: 7/7

And from Robin, a single picture: the official cast list.

ROMEO MONTAGUE...BILLY HARGROVE

JULIET “JULIAN” CAPULET...STEVE HARRINGTON

Ah, fuck.

(or, Steve and Billy are in ballet school. They're cast in LGBT+ Romeo and Juliet. Featuring mutual pining, angst to fluff, and an Ancient Slavic demon cult. It gets weird.)

This is such a fun read. The spattering of background into the story really carves out the characters so well, choreographing the story in such a way that you fall into their lives without realizing it. You sit down to watch Steve practice his role for Julian and suddenly find yourself wondering if that small stutter you just saw has anything to do with any number of little details you know of his past. You see Billy storm across the studio floor and know that he’s trying to bury something that keeps resurfacing, but he refuses to let anyone help him.

It’s wonderful watching the way the boys play off of each other, pushing one another to better themselves in both their dance and their personal lives. Watching Steve fumble with his newfound and confusing feelings is sweet, hopeful, just waiting, waiting for it to tip over the edge, for the boys to fall into the space they’ve always belong: by each other’s side.

I’ve never done ballet, only watched it here and there in movies and shows, but I fell in love with this story, the way their dances are described, their movements. So if you’ve never been that into ballet, don’t let that deter you from reading this story. It’s so much more than just ballet.

× friends should sleep in other beds ×

WORD COUNT: 13,517

CHAPTERS: 2/2

It isn’t easy being in love with your best friend.

It especially isn’t easy being in love with your best friend if he’s the practical-Godfather of your university.

(or, 'I won't let anyone hurt you; you're safe with me' prompt fill where Steve thinks his love is one-sided but it absolutely isn't. Feat. loving girlfriends and Hawaiian vacations.)

This story is beyond achingly stunning. It’s all whirlwinds and longing and the white-knuckle deathgrip of trying to hold onto something you’re convinced is going to slip away. The deep, binding relationship between Billy and Steve is beautiful and heartbreaking and hopeful at the same time. Both characters have obvious trenches of emotional trauma they’ve had to trudge through to get where they are, trenches they’re still slowly crawling their ways out of.

The words are so wonderfully crafted that I felt the sway and break of Steve’s emotions at the same time he did. I felt the longing, the sorrow, the sputtering flame of hope that just refuses to gutter and die. I want to say I wanted more of this story, but I don’t know if my heart could have handled it. No, it was the perfect length, detailing the long harrowing journey of love and friendship, of finding family that doesn’t come from blood, of holding desperately onto things that are worth the bruises they leave on your fingers.

TUMBLR | @cameorabbit AO3 | CaffeinatedBunny

× Life Is Sweet ×

WORD COUNT: 8,676

CHAPTERS: 4/4

Snapshots of domestic bliss, between loving boyfriends.

(This story will be marked as complete but I will be adding chapters as the muses come to me or when I need a break from some of my larger wip)

This wonderful little collection offers us a sweet insight into the boys' relationship. We get small glimpses into the boys' pasts that add layers to the stories. We get to see little snippets of Steve's relationship with his mother and grandmother. We get to see Billy's insecurities. 

Each story has it’s own little theme, if you will, from baking Christmas cookies to battling insecurities in their relationship. Each story gives us a little more, brings us a little deeper into these boys’ lives, adds that next layer to them that has you coming back to see how they’ve developed. I'm looking forward to any future additions to this collection.

× When I run out of road (You bring me Home) ×

WORD COUNT: 5,316

CHAPTERS: 1/1

The road back to Hawkins Indiana is long and tedious with neither of them really wanting to reach their destination; so to distract them both Billy has a plan to make it as pleasurable for both of them as he can.

Uffda. This was a fun read. Now, before I dive into the review, just a heads up: this is a PWP with dom/sub. And apologies in advance for my inability to be eloquent about smut.

The dynamic between the two was a joy to read. Steve's mannerisms as a baby and the way Billy handles him as his Daddy was fantastic. It's not heavy dom/sub here, but you can tell they've had this relationship for a while. They're both comfortable in their roles and both know exactly what they're doing, and how to get a rise out of each other. But between the power play and the drops of backstory, there's actually some beautiful writing here, too. There were a few lines that I found myself rereading just because they sounded beautiful.

Also, I just have to say... The way Billy handles his own cock... Why do I love that so much? Just little things, too, like tapping it against the steering wheel while he's teasing Steve.

× I'll Keep you Mine ×

WORD COUNT: 3,926

CHAPTERS: 1/1

Billy's forged a kingdom and took an empty throne, and he'll burn anyone and anything that tries to take it from him.

(My Dudes this whole story is pretty much the Grumpy Possessive one claims the Sunshine One - Literally. And I ain't even mad.)

Here we get a gorgeously written tale that spins the events of the Upside Down in a different light. I don't want to spoil what that is, as it's not explicitly stated in the summary or tags, so you'll have to read to find out! This idea could easily be fleshed out into a much longer piece, but there's also something about just getting a small taste of an idea that is very enjoyable.

There is this persistent sense of danger beneath all the beautiful imagery. It's in the pacing of the story, in the way Billy needs to claim Steve. We get enough of a taste of this otherness to want more, to want to see exactly how everything unfolds.

TUMBLR | @wickedlydevious AO3 | wickedlydevious

× Weak Hands, Weak Lungs, Strong Heart ×

SERIES: Strong Heart

WORD COUNT: 2,771

CHAPTERS: 1/1

After the events at Starcourt Mall, Billy is recovering in the hospital and bored out of his mind. The only bright spots are when Max comes to visit.

And then Steve Harrington starts visiting too and that's even better.

There is a very beautiful light and warmth throughout this story. Billy's character feels so accurate, and the way he deals with being in the hospital and everything that entails is exquisitely portrayed here. What Billy has to deal with in the wake of the Mind Flayer grates against his entire personality, but it forces him to step outside of his comfort zone, outside of himself, and relearn how to interact with people, namely Steve.

The thing I loved most about this story is that we get to see these different facets of Billy, facets that maybe even he didn't really know were there, ones he never allowed himself to show because of his father. Still recovering, still being dependent on other people forces these different aspects of him into the world, and it's beautiful. It creates this very special sort of relationship between Billy and Steve that is just so pure and heart warming. I'll definitely be coming back to this when I need a spark of joy.

× Weak Backbone, Strong Convictions ×

SERIES: Strong Heart

WORD COUNT: 3,212

CHAPTERS: 1/1

After the events at Starcourt Mall, Steve starts bringing Max to visit Billy at the hospital.

And then Steve starts visiting on his own.

The sweetness continues with the second part of the Strong Heart series. The events of the first part are retold, but this time through Steve's POV. I've always loved the idea of telling the same events from different perspectives and this did not disappoint. The events may be the same, but you feel them differently than when they were told through Billy's perspective. Though the tone of the previous installation is ultimately uplifting, it's clear Billy is struggling. This part, however, is overflowing with hope, which only adds to the already beautiful feeling of the last piece. Don't think that because you already know the events that will take place because you read the last part that you shouldn't read this one. It's beautiful and moving and there are moments added that would be a shame to miss out on. I really hope this series continues, because it is wonderfully uplifting, but it stands strong all the same, just as it is.

× T(h)ree Mistakes ×

WORD COUNT: 4,559

CHAPTERS: 1/1

It’s their first Christmas in their own apartment and Steve reluctantly tasks Billy with getting the tree.

Mistakes are made.

This is a great read for the holidays. Billy's tree-getting adventures brought back so many memories of going to the tree farm down the road from our house as a kid and making a day of trying to find a tree that didn't look like trash and wouldn't break the bank. The feel of the story is cozy and sweet, like a warm and sleepy holiday morning. The kids, now teens, make a short but fun appearance that really makes this story feel like it's about found family. 

This story is like coming home, rounding up all of your best friends you haven’t seen in ages, and making a night of the holidays. It’s sipping eggnog, the lights turned down low, and listening to the sweet croon of gentle music somewhere in the house. This story is comfort and happiness and love. Now I want some hot apple cider...

QUESTIONS? VISIT THE FAQ

FIND ALL VOLUMES HERE

[captainkippen]

Hi Aaron, I read your writing tips tag & found it really helpful, but I was wondering if you had any other advice for me. I used to write original works years ago but I lost a lot of motivation & stopped. Recently I've thought about getting back into it, but this time trying to write fanfiction as well. I've never written fanfic before. How do you come up with ideas and, more importantly, share your writing & open yourself to critique from others (i've never shared my writing publicly before)?

Hi, Anon! First of all, thank you! I'd forgotten all about that tag. I'm glad it's been useful for you!

Loss of motivation is tough, and getting back into the swing of things can be difficult, but it's never impossible as long as the desire to write is there. Good on you for wanting to get back to it and I'm excited for you to delve into the world of fic writing!

Brainstorming ideas

Music

To answer your first question, there are a lot of ways I personally come up with ideas. First and foremost for me is music, I like to sit down with my headphones in and let my thoughts wander while I'm listening. A lot of inspiration can come from lyrics, or from the tones of songs, and sometimes even just letting yourself drift results in ideas popping into being. That's not for everybody, but it definitely works for me.

Imagery

Another is imagery. Try looking at Pinterest or on other social media for pictures that might give you a spark. I like looking at specific aesthetics I enjoy and building scenes in my head from there.

Prompts

On Tumblr, or even just googling, you can find a lot of writing prompts which might give you a start for ideas. Try looking at those, or even asking people you talk to for prompts, and use it as an exercise to see where you end up.

AUs & Borrowing Storylines

That might be a misleading subheading — I'd like to clarify I do not think you should commit plagiarism. What I do mean is, when it comes to fanfiction at least, a lot of stories are borrowed from books and films. Sometimes it's fun to write an AU based on a romcom or a fairytale, in a lot of fandoms you can find a 10 Things I Hate About You AU, and as long as you're using your imagination (not copying the OG source word for word) and clarifying that your story is loosely based on something else that's fine!

Many fics are set in AUs (alternate universes). You could try looking at types of AUs and seeing if any of them spark an idea for you. AUs are the best thing about fanfiction in my opinion. Ranging from Canon Divergence - set in the canon universe but taking a different course of events according to the writer - to Coffee Shop AUs, they give you a lot of scope and room to breathe. You can have fun with AUs, and the best part is that, even if someone else has already written a particular AU, fanfic readers are always hungry for more. I'd once again like to underline the importance of not plagiarising — stealing other's work is not cool. There's a line between taking inspiration and straight up copying.

Looking For What's Missing

I would have a think about the kind of fics you love to read, and ones that you haven't yet seen in the fandoms you want to write in. If there's a hole you think needs filling, especially if it's very niche and just for you, then go for it. Be the one to bring that story into being. It's a great feeling.

Research & Artefacts

I've found in the past that looking at specific objects or events can often inspire ideas. Say I had a tin of tea, or saw an old sign on the road pointing to Polperro, I might decide to look into the history of those objects and find myself several hours later up to my ears in research on the tea trade of the 1800s or Cornish smugglers. Researching things that catch your interest is a great way to develop new arenas, characters and narratives in which you want to tell your stories.

Have a look for news articles or interesting nonfiction books you have lying around and flick through them, they might contain that first spark of an idea and lead you down that research path for yourself.

Writer's Notebooks

Leading on from that, the next thing I would recommend for generating ideas is writing things down. Ideas will pop into your head more than you think and it's important to get them on paper (or in the notes app on your phone - mine is an absolute mess) because you never know when two ideas might link and turn into a full story.

Another way to use a writer's notebook is through observation. Go out and pay attention to your surroundings. Make notes on any people, places or events you come across which catch your interest. This way, if you're ever stuck, you have a bank of inspiration ready and waiting.

Sharing Your Writing

Offering up your work for others to read can be really nerve wracking. I'm doing my MA in Creative Writing and I still find it downright terrifying to share my work with my classmates, however critique and feedback are really useful tools for developing your writing skills.

I like to think of my fics as writing practice. When I publish them, the feedback I get is helpful in figuring out any chances I need to make to the story or to my style. The best thing about fic readers is they're generally very friendly and understanding. I find that focusing on that fact makes me feel a little more confident in posting. This confidence will help you develop your original works too, you'll be more open to sharing with others and getting feedback. It's especially interesting to share with other writers when developing ideas because sometimes you just need a different perspective to bounce your thoughts off.

Taking that first step and hitting publish is the most difficult part, but once you've done it once it gets less scary. My advice to you is just to write something that makes you happy, make sure it's edited to a readable standard (I am often guilty of giving up and pressing publish without giving it a second glance, sorry guys, you don't want to be me with this), and it's something you want to share. Having other people read your work and talk to you about it can be really fun, you've just got to dive in headfirst.

This answer for away from me a little. Anyway, thank you again for your kind words and I hope my advice is helpful! Enjoy your fic writing endeavours, wishing you the best.

[zephfair]

2??

Gah, I'm so sorry I haven't answered this sooner! I hope you're still around, lovely anon!

2. Where do you get your fic ideas?

I'm going to be perfectly honest: I am the laziest and most unoriginal writer.

I am crap at coming up with my own fic ideas. When I started writing fanfic, I just took prompts off the kink memes on LJ for the fandom I was in (remember those? good times). They didn't even have to be NSFW; there were just tons of great prompts that could be adapted, and it was fun to fill them for people. In that same fandom, I got really involved with the LJ comms and we had regular fic events where readers would load up hundreds of prompts and we could write and post anonymously before the big reveal. So I didn't have to come up with my own original ideas.

BUT, I loved prompts that were unique takes on fairy tales or really well-worn tropes and then twisting them to be different. While I didn't come up with the fic idea, I always worked to put my own spin on it. And I still *adore* twists on fairy tales so much that I want to write them for every fandom I'm in.

Once I moved on to other fandoms and had to come up with my own ideas, I think I tended to stick to filling in missing scenes in canon until I realized that it could be funny to take a Tumblr (or Twitter) meme and write it for a crack fic. Plus, I've written a lot of smut which doesn't always need much plot. I once did a 30-day writing challenge mostly for Bleach that nearly sent me into hysterics but the daily prompts were fun.

Then there are the mashups with other shows or movies because I love a really good AU and classics like The Princess Bride are ripe for using with fandom characters like I did with Bleach (or Mr. and Mrs. Smith like I've been kicking around for TRC for a while).

In The Raven Cycle fandom, I've leaned way into the crack, from what I'm watching on TV or thinking about randomly as I drive. I was watching The Bachelorette (under duress, I must add) when I started to think about how TRC characters would fit into that world without making them completely OOC. I sat in a dealership waiting for my car to be fixed last Black Friday and thought about how I could turn the holiday into a funny one-shot (and the salesmen all joining in a warbly, out-of-tune last line of All I Want For Christmas Is You was written into it--that literally happened).

The one thing about being old is that I've had some truly wacky things happen to me, especially in some of my jobs. It makes for good comedy ideas and people will never know that it actually was true. I've had zany, sitcom worthy things happen around me, and for a while I actually kept a file of all the ridiculous things people or family said around me. Now I can use them and people think I'm funny. 😂 But I have used a lot of weird and bizarre little things I've done or said in my stories and no one's ever complained so I'll keep on doing it.

All this essay just to say that I love writing from prompts. If anyone reading this wants a little fic and wants to prompt me, let me know. Sometimes I reblog prompt lists and offer ficlets. I can't promise it'll be the most unique, but I try.

Here's the Fic Meme if you want to ask anything!

[sometimesambroswrites]

Hello. First, I love your fics. So, I've never written anybody on Tumblr or made a prompt, so I hope I'm doing this right. I'd love to read a fic where Max and Rafael are kidnapped, and Magnus and Alec rescue them. And it would bei awesome if you'd write in Rafe's and Max's POV, too. And Rafe is all protective over Max. Hope you like this prompt and thank you in advance. I wish you a beautiful day :D.

Hi! Thank you so much! You’re doing it perfectly!Your prompt was so interesting and something I would have never thought of myself, so I really hope you like it!And a beautiful day to you too

Read on AO3

Rafe is afraid of the dark.

It's something that started in the streets, when he had nothing tohide behind, nothing to protect him, when he was half-awake at alltimes, ready to run.

He doesn't remember being afraid before that, but he learned quickly.

Max knows – of course he does. Rafe doesn't know how, but Maxknows. Most nights he slips in Rafe's bedroom with a purple globe oflight in his palm and he makes room for himself under Rafe's coverswithout so much as a goodnight beforehe falls asleep, the light floating gently over the bed.

He doesn't know how to stop beingafraid, but that helps, sometimes. The light that Max brings, yawningand rubbing his eyes, showing him that everything is in the exactsame place it was before he turned off the lights. That his worlddoesn't disappear as soon as he stops protecting it.

It's better now, with Alec andMagnus and Max. He can sleep most nights without Max's help.

He's thought about telling Alec,sometimes, but he could never quite bring himself to do it. Hewouldn't know where to start, and it sounds silly when he tries torehearse it in his head.

But it's not enough.

It's not a surprise that it's in thedarkness that they take them.

*

Max slips in his bedroom not even anhour after uncle Simon and aunt Izzy start suggesting they go to bed,his little purple light glowingfaintly in his fingers; he can tell when Rafe isn't going to be ableto sleep because he becomes fidgety and he can't sit still, hisfingers constantly tapping whatever surface they're laying upon.

Rafe closes his eyes as Max'sbreathing slows down.

*

He jolts awake, heart pounding inhis chest, loud noises coming from the living room, and he knowssomething is wrong.

He shakes Max's shoulder to thesound of something breaking, muffled screams, steps, and Max blinksslowly, the purple light flickering slightly over the bed and thensuddenly disappearing when Max hears what's happening.

“Under the bed,” Rafe whispers,his voice weak as his heart keeps beating too fast in his chest,Max's hands reaching for his shirt, Rafe can feel his fingers slip onhis back and his breathing quickening, so he grabs his hand and dragshim over the bed, they both tumble on the floor, the living roomalmost silent even if Rafe can't hear anything over the rush in hisears, he pushes his brother under the bed and follows himimmediately, barely enough space for him to fit, he has to keep hishead turned to the side not to hurt his nose.

Max is breathing heavily, shaking,and Rafe blindly reaches for his hand, finds his shirt and holds ittight, his fist shaking too. He murmurs: “Shhh,” and he thinksMax nods.

The door opens.

Light pools in a triangle on thecarpet, and Rafe's mind stubbornly focuses on that, on the fact thatthe light in the hallway is on, even as he hears steps moving closer,Max's barely contained sobs, he focuses on the dark blue carpet.

Maybe it's just another nightmareand Max will come, with his purple light and his teddy bear, andhe'll slip under the covers and it'll be alright.

Max's sudden scream drags him backto reality.

They're trying to drag him out fromunder the bed and he's kicking as much as he can, screaming at thetop of his lungs, his magic filling the air with the smell of smoke,and Rafe thinks fuckno even if he's not supposed tocurse.

He rolls out from under the bedwithout thinking, two hands immediately closing around his arms, sotight they hurt, he drags his thigh painfully against the bed as hefights against the hold, his voice joining Max's as he screamswith everything he has, kickingand grabbing the corner of his bedside table, and then Max is beinggrabbed too, and he's kicking and crying and struggling, and Rafebites the hand on his right arm before everything goes black.

*

Alec shakes so much he falls to theground, he can't breathe right, and Magnus falls with his shouldersagainst the wall, pale, shaking, onehand in his hair as the house around them shakes.

Jace grabs Alec by the shoulders andpushes a hand against his chest, says: “Breathe.”,as Luke tries to calm Magnus down like he would one of his wolves,Clary helping Simon and Izzy stand up.

There's a message floating in themiddle of the wrecked living room.

If you want your childrenback alive, vote against the Equality Act.

Jace kicks at one of the brokenchairs and growls fuck.

*

Rafe blinks, feels like his headis too heavy.

He reaches for the light switchand freezes when his hand brushes against something cold and hard andwet, and it takes him a second to realise it's the floor, and hejumps up so quickly his head spins for a moment.

Not a nightmare.

It'sdark except for a faint light coming from under a door, and Rafefocuses on breathing slowly, he reaches out with his hands but theroom is clearly big enough that he'd need to take a few steps beforereaching a wall, but he feels like he's glued to the floor.

“Rafe?”

Rafe'seyes widen in the darkness as he turns to his right: “Max?”

“Yeah,”Max's voice shakes slightly as Rafe reaches towards his voice, darestaking a couple of steps until he pokes Max's face.

“Ouch.”

Rafesmiles despite himself: “Sorry.”

Maxchuckles, a weak thing that tumbles a bit hysterically from his lipsas Rafe pats down his face until he finds he shoulder and then downhis arm until he can reach for his hand: “Are you okay? Are youhurt?”

Thereis a moment of silence, where Max is probably shaking his head beforehe remembers they're in the dark: “No, I'm okay. You?”

Nowthat Max asks, Rafe realises he probably has a bruise on his thighfrom when he'd struggled and dragged it against the bed and it'spulsing a bit, but nothing else. “I'm okay.”

“Whydo you think they took us?” Max whispers, voice suddenly low, andRafe tugs on his hand and wraps his arm around his shoulders; he'sstill taller than Max, even if only by a few inches. “Idon't know,” he says, finds himself whispering as well. He suspectsit's got something to do with Alec and Magnus, but he doesn't wantMax to think about it too much.

“Areyou scared?”

He'snever been more terrified in his life.

“Ofcourse not,” he says, tries to sound brave. He thinks about Alecand what he would do, how he would stand tall, his hands behind hisback. “You're with me, right? The most powerful warlock in thewhole universe.”

Maxgiggles and Rafe squeezes his shoulder. His heart is beating so fasthe hopes Max can't hear it.

*

“Thevote is tomorrow, howcan we – ”

“Alec.”,Jace places a firm hand on his shoulder, looks him in the eyes likehe's trying to rein him in, “We will find them before that, Ipromise.”

“Youcan't promise that, you can't,”Alec says, breathing hard, pushing against Jace's hand, but Jacedoesn't let go: “But I amand we will find them, but we need you. We need you both,” he says,glancing at Magnus too, whoseems to be barely containing himself from letting his magic burstout, “to help us. Please.”

Alecis shaking but he nods.

Magnussimply raises his eyes on them, his irises golden.

*

Rafestarts shaking. He doesn't know how much time has passed since hewoke up, but he and Max found what feels like a carpet in theotherwise empty room, and they're sitting there, waiting. They don'tknow what they're waiting for, but Rafe feels like the darkness isstarting to slip under his clothes and in his throat.

Hekeeps tapping his knee with his fingers.

Max'sleg brushes against his: “Daddy and Papa will come,” he says,confident, “You'll see. They'll come before we even know it.”

Hesounds scared but like he believes what he's saying and – Rafe doestoo, somewhere, but the thing is, he was waiting for this. Forsomeone to take it away from him. And it happened late and when hewas almost comfortable in his new life but – he knew. He knew hewouldn't get to keep it.

“Yeah?”he says, and he hopes Max can't hear how his voice is shaking.

“Yeah”,Max says, even more confident, “They would never leave us here.”

“Ibet they'll come before we can count to one million.”

Maxhuffs: “I bet they'll come before we can count to ten … thirtytimes!”

Rafesmiles weakly: “You're on.”

*

“Theyare blocking Max's magic,” Magnus says, frustration working its wayinto his carefully held voice; he lets Max's teddy bear fall on thebed, “I can't track them.”

“Canyou track the Warlock's magic?” Izzy says, guilt slipping intotension on her shoulders.

“He'sblocked that too,” Magnus says, voice dark; he curls his hands upin fists, his jaw tense before he walks out of the room, backstraight, the walls shaking slightly.

Alecfollows him, steps quick –he thinks if Magnus walks too far away from him he's going to losehis mind.

“Weneed to find them,” Magnus says, and his voice is shaking and hecrumbles like he's got nothing keeping him up, Alec's hands on hiselbows the only thing helping him, “Alec, we must findthem, I don't – ”

“Iknow,” Alec says, it's like they took a piece of his fucking soul,like he has nothing to hold on to, “We will,Magnus,” he calls, and then again: “Magnus,”because he needs him to be here, and Magnus looks in his eyes, hisown golden and bright, and Alec says: “We will find them.”

*

It'sstill too dark and Rafe has closed his eyes, thinking that mightsomehow make it better, but it's not.

Maxis counting, has counted to ten five times already, very slowlybecause, as he said, “We didn't say anything about how fast we hadto count.”, and Rafe is desperately trying to focus on his voiceand count with him, and he thinks the only thing that's keeping himsane is the thought of leaving his little brother to himself.

Hecould never.

“Ican't do magic,” Max says, sounding frustrated, and Rafe mutters:“It's probably because of them.”

Thereare a few seconds of silence before Max whispers: “I'm sorry.”

Rafeopens his eyes, instinctively, even though he knows he won't seeanything: “For what?”

“Iwanted to make the light,” Max mumbles, “Because I know you don'tlike the dark. But I can't.”

“It'sokay,” Rafe says, smiling as he ruffles Max's hair, “I'm fine. Ipromise. You're doing a great job with the counting.”

Maxgently pushes him away withhis shoulder, but they freeze when someone unlocks the door and opensit.

Suddenlythere's too much light in the room and Rafe closes his eyes for asecond, enough time for rough hands to grab his arms again and forcehim to stand even as he starts screaming and struggling against thehold, stepping on the feet behind him as he sees Max standing up,shaking, screaming, “Let him go, what are you doing,where are you taking him,”Rafe kicks blindly at the legs behind him, “Let him go,”he thinks someone is laughing above him, and then he feels Max'smagic swell, familiarenough with it that he can almost see it, and Max screams for onelast time: “Let. Him. GO!”

There'ssilence for a moment and then the sound of glass breaking before Rafehears the voice above him curse loudly: “The fucking little bastardbroke the blocking spell.”

*

Magnus'head snaps up, his eyes blazing golden: “I've got them.”

*

Awoman runs into the room as the man who'd been holding Rafe lets himgo, pushing him forward, before he backhands Max so hard Max falls tothe floor.

Arage so deep it buries everything else washes through Rafe: “I'mgoing to kill you.”

*

Theydon't stop to think, run straight to the basement of the abandonedhouse where they can hear voices, a thundering of steps as they godown the stairs, Magnus and Alec in front of Jace and Clary and Izzyand Simon and Luke and Maryse.

Awoman – a woman has Rafepushed against a wall by his throat,a man is using magic against Max,and then it's almost impossible to figure out who reaches the bottomof those stairs first, rage so thick it's suffocating.

Ittakes them nothing to push them away from Rafe and Max, they're toodistracted to react, too weak to stand against the fury of a family,Jace slams the man so violently against the wall he knocks him outcold while Alec and Magnus hold their sons so tight it feels likethey might never let them go.

Marysehas the woman against the wall by her throat, her face turning red:“You touch my grandsons one more time, I will tear you apart limbby limb.”

*

Theyare on the bed in a family sandwich,as Max calls them; Alec is brushing his fingers through their hair asMagnus' arm serves as a pillow.

“Iwasn't that scared,”Max is saying, holding his teddy bear close to his chest, “I knewRafe would have my back.”

Rafehuffs but feels himself blush; he turns his face in Alec's shoulderto hide it.

“Youwere both so brave,” Magnus murmurs with a smile, “We are veryproud of you.”

Rafesmiles as he glances at Max: “Max's magic was so strong he brokethat guy's spell.”

Magnus'smile creases the corners of his eyes: “You are the HighestWarlock of Brooklyn then!” he says, tickling Max.

Rafeturns to Alec as Max keeps laughing, and he whispers: “Dad?”

Aleclooks at him, his eyes brightening like they do everytime Rafe callsthem dad or papa.“Rafe?”

Rafesmiles at the gently teasing tone in Alec's voice. He whispers: “Ireally get to stay.”, almost like he doesn't quite believe it.

There'sa moment of silence, filled by Max's chattering about how he used hismagic against the Warlock, before Alec wraps his arms around Rafe,holds him close against his chest: “For as long as you want, littleman,” he whispers.

Hesounds like he might cry.

Rafecurls a bit more in his arms: “Can we get a small lamp for mybedroom, then? I'm afraid of the dark.”

Alecchuckles wetly over his shoulder: “Of course we can.”

“Wewant a bear hug too!” Max protests, stepping over his brother; healmost falls and ends up holding on to Alec's shoulders, and Magnussays: “Absolutely.”, as he tries to wrap his arms around allthree of them.

Rafegroans loudly and Max laughs at him.

Aleclooks into Magnus' eyes over Rafe's shoulders and Max's arm; theylook as grateful and happy as he feels.

[tea-and-cardigans]

I've never written a fanfic before, but I want to try. Do you have any tips on where I should start? I'm not a bad writer and I've written short stories and such, but I have no clue how to go about writing a fanfiction.

I am so honoured that you would come to me for some fanfiction advice. I think the best place to start would be with some one shots that are canonical or missing moments or continuations. This helps with getting in the mindset of the canon characters and the one shot gives you space to experiment with them a little and develop the characters within a short fic.

I also find watching the show to get a better sense of the characters helps a lot with my writing as it gives me a visual prompt of the character, how they speak, and some mannerisms.

I also found that accepting and filling prompt requests really helped with my fanfiction writing as it gave me the opportunity to write about themes that I would not normally have touched or thought about. If you don’t have any requests then there are plenty available at: @bughead-fanfic-wishlist

I think once you have a strong idea of who the characters are and who they are at their core then AU becomes easier (for me anyway) I had to write some canonical moments in order to get straight in my own head who these characters were so that I could place them into a completely different universe and still have them feel like they are essentially the canon character in that universe and who has been shaped by that universe.

I find posting on tumblr and Ao3 are the best places to post and where you will usually get the most feedback. I post on FFnet and Wattpad as well but find that I get much fewer hits and comments on these two platforms. I also find interacting with other authors and reading their stories has helped immensely with improving my own writing skills.

But I think the best way to go is just give it a go. This community in particular is incredibly supportive and generous and if you are ever going to write some fanfic this is the place to do it.

I hope this helped and if you want to know anything further just let me know!