#it's viewable in the fic itself

[borealtwilight]

Updated cover art for my Canis Lupus rewrite!

( original here )

[anantaru]

BITTERSWEET TASTE

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — being in the knights of favonius came with its own responsibilities, yet why was it so unbelievably difficult for kaeya to get up in the morning when you‘re laying next to him all pretty and riled up?

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 3.1k

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — decided to repost this hidden fic, enjoy <3

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, prone bone, fingering, morning sex, morning wood, biting, he cums in you, basically kaeya doesn't want to go to work <3

there was a pearly glow in the morning sky with the first of many rays of sunlight casting a rosy hue up the bedroom, prickling on kaeya's bronzed skin.

fluttering his eyelashes open for the first time post slumber, he scrubbed his face with his hands as to try to wipe away the tiredness that was still viewable on his handsome features. He yawned, stretching his broad body, tilting his neck left and right.

if only he didn't have to work today, he thoughts to himself, fighting off his laziness and huffing out dramatically.

naturally, ever since the grandmaster left for an important expedition, kaeya had to work more than usual, do stuff he in any other circumstances wouldn't have to bother to even bat an eye over.

of course, with the entire cavalry gone, one would think that the cavalry captain himself wouldn't have to particularly do much, yet he still had to aid the knights with various tasks as they were short in staff.

a low sigh escaped him and his heart bubbled with swells of delight upon taking in the look of his sleeping beauty curved up into a ball, your breathing tranquil with your eyes scrunched together.

how can someone be so cute and beautiful? while also infecting him with blissful joy.

leaving nothing to the imagination, his mind froze with his body feeling light, as if he wasn't entirely there yet, wandering his piercing gaze over your heaving figure, drinking in your peacefulness.

he tried to decipher on how he managed to end up so lucky, how it was him, of all people, who captured your heart.

on further analysis, he focused and crossed his vision over you, his breathing slowing down. He caught a glimpse of your white panties nudged out of your sleep shirt, the fabric was flimsy and was barely able to keep everything hidden and tugged away, the outline of your puffy folds poked out just slightly and watered his mouth on sight.

next, kaeya heavily settled his hands on your hips and pulled you closer into his embrace, he was still very much tired and exhausted, the thought about him having to leave for work in a bit was annoying, straight up mind shattering, a frustrated growl tingling in his throat.

cocking his head in the nook of your soft neck, kaeya took in your scent, so familiar and soothing, kissing the thin flesh under your ear. The strokes of his rough lips on you ultimately stirred you from your sleep, a dizzying sense of pleasure crawling over your shoulders.

"kaeya?" your voice was whispery and barely there, laced in with a raspy undertone when you cradled your head to the side, meeting his hooded eyes. "morning, beautiful."

you couldn't help yourself but roll your eyes at him, such tease, your brows crinkling at the corners as a peel of laughter echoed in the large room. With your hand, you removed the navy blue hair strands that covered your boyfriends handsome face, stilling your palm on his warm cheek and brushing your thumb over his lower lip.

"don't you have to work?"

"hmm." nuzzling himself into you, he continued, "how awful would i be if i don't?" kaeya crossed his arms around you with the plush of your behind pressed against his member, your eyes growing to the size of saucers upon realizing how riled up he had gotten.

"jean won't be happy if you're late." attempting to disturb him from his little fantasy, he set off the heavy erection in his pants, gently rutting itself within your softness, his rough tongue eagerly dragging over your neck and biting down the wet spot, ultimately forgetting about your words, as if he didn't perceive them in the first place.

"foul play!" he feigned a dramatic, teasing tone, "but this isn't about jean right now."

his hips bucked up yet again, this time unconsciously before one of his hands wandered towards your stomach, hooking his fingers into the elastic of your panties to pull them down in a single motion. Your breath was trembling with a sweet squeak robbed out of your mouth, melting into his warmth with your eyes closed.

his hand disappeared within your heat, nudging in between your thighs as you spread them a bit to make it easier for him to travel to where you craved it. "only for five minutes kaeya, okay?"

"five minutes, five minutes." he repeated sheepishly, gaping his mouth open and poking out his sharp canines from underneath his upper lip, prancing on your neck, adding his rough tongue up until reaching your earlobe to gingerly suck on it. You whined from his little scheme, noticing your nipples perked up from underneath your shirt and rubbing over the flimsy material as you whined at the first long finger poking at your entrance.

your cheeks grew warm, drizzling hot and your eyes fluttered close to relish in the digit filling you at last, the stretch was barely painful or to be perceived yet still pleasurable. Your insides were twisting and turning around his skillfulness which had kaeya's vision turn blank, jaw dropping loosely before a massive grin heaved on him.

considering on how your moans sounded, how they pooled over his ears like sweet liquid, sugary candy, kaeya figured you were very much sensitive, might be because you had just woken up, carefully wiggling his finger deep into you to wheedle another reaction out from your lips.

"don't hide your sounds from me, don't even dare."

his gorgeous face was behind you, kaeya absolutely despised it when you hid your pleasure from him, your lust and ache, sometimes you even did in on purpose to drive him mad, yet he always made sure to punish his sweet little angel properly afterwards.

"kaeya, it feels good." he was spreading the mess over your folds with every shove into your core, you nodded frantically to signal him how well he did, your head falling back against his neck as he added another finger into the mix, almost immediately pulling it into you and searching for more with his hungry eyes.

this time you stretched further, hole parting, the combination of his middle and ring finger rubbing their rough pads into your velvety walls had you short of breath, nudging your sweet spot. You were rocking side to side as you held each other in a loving clasp, moaning and breathing in sync.

a simple happiness, that's what it was for kaeya, seeing you unravel for him in such a short amount of time, a confident bubble bursting in his belly as he noticed the heavy dent in his boxers, growing, aching and rubbing against the uncomfortable material of his sweat shorts.

kaeya drew in his breath upon noticing your spasming walls, letting go of the air in his lungs with a shiver. He shifted his leg, pressing you closer together and increasing the pace on his hand. Without warning he scissored your sensitive cunt, curling and sending waves of electric thrills throughout your skin.

your eyebrows knitted together in concentration, tightening your jaw as you moaned his name, arching your spine away yet he jerked you back almost immediately, "I'm so close kaeya.. please." your skin was heated, yet the warmth crossing you from deep inside roamed into you in fast spurts, slumping back and forth.

"i want you to cum on my fingers, can you do this for me?" hoarsely voicing his command with authority taking over the room, he shoved his fingers in, thick and wet, delving them into you as you grinding yourself back, meeting his hand halfway through his heavy tugs.

"i‘m gonna cum—" moaning in protest, your sloppy hole suckled down on kaeya‘s slender, skillful digits, clamping your thighs to hold him there when you spasmed, shivering and whining when your orgasm threw itself at you.

kissing and biting your neck he hummed in satisfaction at your tones, your pleas and begs, the vibration he exclaimed was filling you and hit your core in a torrent of electricity.

your hands abruptly clasped onto his wrist to still his movements yet kaeya was chasing your release like a wild beast, finger fucking you through your climax with sloppy noises turning you into an embarrassing mess.

creating friction through his rough way with you, you grabbed him, your mouth opening but nothing came out and throat tightening when you cummed at last with a silent cry of his name, sobbing your words.

pure bliss, that's how kaeya would describe it, his palm glistering with arousal. "now would you look at yourself, what a sight to behold." your mind was a bit off and still wobbly, cradling your head back to look at him through lidded eyes, meeting his lustful ones.

"shut up kaeya, you wanted this." your sassiness was maddening and set his loins on fire, truly delicious. Kaeya pulled out of you, a string of your essence connecting him to your core when he did something that almost brought you on the verge of release again.

pleasantly dizzy, his slick covered fingers found his mouth when he pried the pads past his plump lips, lapping onto his digitd to drink in what you gifted him with, moaning and groaning around his fingers and hollowing his cheeks to suck them dry.

a whisper, a moan, taking itself out on your craving body when you watched in anticipation, now fully awake and completely forgetting that kaeya was very much late for work, not to mention the little '5 minute rule from ealier' was nowhere to be found. The aroma of his scent clasped around you, filling your nostrils and getting you weak in the knees, cradling your senses.

another long inhale, you yanked his hand away and kissed him, hard. Shaking, tantalizing goosebumps bristled on your skin, a sharply edged euphoria playing in your heart upon noticing his fully erected member resting against your thigh, a big wet splotch plastered on the side.

your fingers listened to his silent pleas, traveling down his stomach before cupping his groin, caressing it with your warm palm. You rolled forward, eliciting a groan from your boyfriend when he captured you in another kiss, rutting himself into your hand like a horny beast. "you're so fucking perfect for me." he sputtered, adding his strength on your hips to pull you back abruptly.

kaeya rose up, displaying himself to you as he exposed of his shirt together with his pants and boxers, cock plopping out and standing fully erect. His tip was swollen and rosy, desperate and needy when he beckoned you to turn around, following suit.

you lowered yourself onto the silky, white pillows with your behind perked up, your drenching pussy on full display for him to indulge himself in. Fuck, he wanted to be inside you right now, wanted his cock to be drenched full with filth and lewdness and make love to you.

"five minutes, right?" he taunted you with it, amusement finding him on how you thought you’d be satiated by a mere five minutes.

kaeya couldn't wait any longer, simply draping your shirt up and not giving a single fuck to discard of it completely, your glowing back greeting him. His rough hands branded your shaking skin, a satisfied growl deep in his lungs was leaving him as he got a hold of his stiff erection to drag it in and out of the little tunnel he created with his hand.

"i'm gonna be so late." chuckling to himself and in a way, it sounded as if kaeya was making fun of said fact, butterflies cascading through his stomach at the mere sight of you alone.

of course this was way better than working and fulfilling his duties.

your glistering pussy fluttered around nothing, sobbing and aroused, still mourning the loss of his long fingers when you trapped your lower lip in between your sharp teeth, hiding a moan.

"baby—" you're mewling now, "please don't tease me, i can‘t take it." wiggling yourself back, kaeya couldn't help himself but smirk devilishly, so unbelievably handsome that the sight of it would've made you cum on the spot. "who do you think i am? i'd never!"

pretending to be shocked, he lowered himself, hands pressing on your behind and gripping the plush of your ass, squeezing and wiggling it. An electric pulse went through your bones when he brushed his cockhead within your folds, collecting your filthy essence on his skin and slobbering him wet.

the natural lubricant would come in handy, surely, kaeya was mostly rough with you and in all honesty, you didn't mind, more so did you secretly encourage it whenever he'd claim you like that, whenever he'd show you how much he desired you without actually using any words.

he was perfect, truly, he was broad and thick, pressing himself into you and filling you to the brim, cunt parting in a rough manner you wouldn't want any other way.

every twitch, turn and twist of his cock you could feel, witness and drink in, you cried out whiningly in a breathy way with tears dwelling in your eyes. He draped himself over you, chest flushed on your back and licking a straight line on the back of your neck with his rough tongue, your tiny hairs sticking into the air from convulsing shivers.

"fuck, you're so tight today." his words were lustful and imploring, savoring and distracting you from the slight discomfort of your lower region being practically impaled by him. A string of saliva connected your skin to his lips, he was messy with you, adding spit and drawing it on your neck to continue to suckle and bite the wet flesh, hitting your sweet spot but not moving where you yearned for it the most.

kaeya pushed you back, leaving his tip in and waxing over your reactions, sending a bolt of lightning down your spine upon snapping himself back, roughly and so unbelievably hard that you thought your heart would actually burst out of your chest.

crying his name you moaned in tune with the pace he was settling for, dragging his raw member into your shivering insides and rubbing deliciously on your favorite spots, punctuated thrusts pressing roughly within you.

relentless, that's how he was with you, marking and branding you with his thick cock alone, his heavy balls smacking at your behind and eliciting arousing torment in your core, feeding into your desires when the flirst droplets of tears covered your warm skin, sticking on your cheeks.

large hands tilted your hips up while simultaneously applying pressure on your back to nudge you against the mattress, the new position making it possible for kaeya to dig into you more.

yet in comparison you got tighter, your hole delicate and milking him for all he's worth. Your oversensitive pussy was on its breaking point, drooling and making a mess out of his length, swallowing him whole, as if you were made for him.

"I'm so close-" you sobbed and he growled at your voices, changing the intensity and snaking up one of his skilled hands to your shaking clit, rubbing you fiercely in tune with his hips. "i know baby, i can feel you." your heart erupted, kaeya was delving as deep as he could possibly go, blown pupils directed to where your bodies connected and sloppily drooled over each other.

kaeya believed he was in heaven, more so loving to see you dripping wet of arousal and he was the cause of it! he alone was responsible for your fucked out state, mustering the strength to keep going, rubbing and pinching your clit in between his rough pads.

tearing you forward, you cried out his name in between panting, coaxing him on to go faster, more, you needed more and had to release now.

"I'm gonna fill you up." through gritted teeth, he told you his favorite way to come undone, something about you trusting him this much was catapulting him to cloud nine. His bruising grip overthrew your body, no words were bothered to be voiced by you, far too gone with the ache in your core threatening to break, teetering on edge and so fucking close, you wanted to get there already, your whines laced with frustration.

sore, sweaty and aching you twitched around him, soul smoldering and stinging when you finally cummed hard, each thrust barreling through your body and sending you over the edge, fisting your fingers into the cushions under you while almost ripping them apart.

your toes curled inwards with your skin shaking, jolts of torment and deep pleasure grasped and hid the control of your body from you, leaving you to kaeya with your sensitivity. How hot your body became, igniting flames in you and bursting the sweet bubble in your belly, the one that sent you spiralling into desire and bliss.

he flattened his hips on you, stilling himself when he came in a broken groan. Kaeya shifted his weight up in a much more convenient angle so he wouldn't suddenly crush you or collapse on top of you from the intense orgasm.

"fuck, that's it baby, that's it." his thumbs buried into your hips, pouring his sweet cum in you and archons, did he cum a lot, it was quilling over and sobbing down your aching hole, staining your thighs together with his pelvis.

he slid his cock out before greedily swatting it back in, moaning in tandem and feeling the residue of your orgasm wash over. He sunk in on you as though overwhelmed he twitched yet again, eyes pointing towards the filth in your legs. Your entire body tightened and his groans sliced you up, how blunt and raw they sounded, how shameless and unbelievably hot.

"fuck, what a mess i made." he heaved out a satisfied sigh, grinning and laughing wildly, casting a gentle shadow on you.

turning your sore body around to face him, you met his gaze, drawing your arms out for him to kiss him. Kaeya chuckled at your adorable teary expression, leaning forward to apply kisses on your lips, swaying you with his charm.

"i don't want to go to work." he painfully admitted to you next, pouty lips pecking your nose, cheeks and going back to your mouth, nibbling on your skin.

"kaeya, you need to go to work." you gently whined at him while still being utterly sensitive.

brushing his bangs away with your fingers, you settled your warm palms on his face and watched him display puppy eyes for a bit, as if he was waiting for you to urge him to stay yet you simply squeezed his cheeks playfully in response.

he huffed out, nudging your nose as he carefully drew himself back with a frutrated sigh. You tilted your head in an irritated manner when your confused eyes followed his body leave the bedroom.

"lets hop in the shower together, i‘m going after i promise."

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[iapetusneume]

a not-fandom-specific post about locking fics on Ao3

I am titling this as I am because

these issues are much larger than any one fandom

I'm hoping to hear from some of my friends who are actively writing fic

this is, in no way, connected to any recent posts by Ao3. These are musings from a random fan.

So, the AI issue of scrapping people's work to teach itself has been ongoing. It's been recommended to lock all of one's fic to be viewable by registered users only, to help with this. There have been interesting posts about different angles, about fandom etiquette and the like. I don't have really any of them easily-accessible at the moment.

In one of the last waves, I decided to lock absolutely everything.

And I... I feel like every other day I am questioning my decision. Because on one hand, I abhor the idea that someone is stealing my work to train an AI. Generative AI is a terrible thing that I don't want any part of.

At the same time... I miss those extra kudos.

I'm feeling very exhausted about the state of things. I wish I didn't feel like I was fighting a fight of wanting/needing acknowledgement, and the possibility of my work being stolen to aid generative AI. I feel like, if I were to go back on this, that it might be admitting defeat.

And it's just such a terrible place to be in. Fandom is supposed to be the fun place.

I don't have a lot of directions I was going to go with this. I'm just really frustrated. I'm not sure if I should unlock my fics or not.

I... yeah. I dunno.

[deityoftherain]

let me take care of you - Treebark 3rd Life Fanfic

Rating: Teen

Relationship: M/M

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Status: Completed Oneshot

Word Count: 2,402

Summary:

Everyone knew the horror of a respawn. Even those who had not lost a life yet, like Martyn, knew this. They’ve witnessed it and it hurt so much more when the person was one close to one’s heart.

Like Ren.

The same Ren who Martyn watched explode alongside Jimmy and Skizz, blown up by what should have been a failed trap.

Yet, standing on Black Heart Altar, Ren expressed his desire for Martyn to take his yellow life from him to bring about Red Winter...

{aka the before, the during, and especially the after of Ren having Martyn turn him red}

Full fanfic underneath the cut! Please reblog, leave kudos on the AO3 fic slash notes/likes here on Tumblr, comment either place, and etc if you enjoy the story :D

The worst part about being forced through a game revolving around death wasn’t the death, no. Death was the easy part. What came after was worse, much worse, and they both knew this. Everyone learned about what exactly a respawn entailed (and what it was like to watch happen) when Martyn, Grian, and a few others witnessed Scar’s first death.

Scar was blown up by a creeper, his body torn into countless pieces. The stench of burning flesh and organs, lit by the internal explosive material within the creeper. It was like no death any of them had seen before and, for a moment, silence hung in the air as they wondered if Scar was gone for good.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, seeing that the sand people have made enemies of Dogwarts), Scar’s body slowly started to reform itself, bits of unidentifiable person insides and flesh painstakingly crawling together to form a body. The more parts that grew together, the brighter Scar’s “body” became. Brighter as if his skin and bones were made of a blinding light, worse than the sun that shined in the sky.

Unable to look anymore, some flinched away while others squeezed their eyes shut or covered their faces with their hands. The light was viewable even through closed eyelids, which Martyn learned from first hand experience. Suddenly, the light was gone, accompanied by a sharp hiss of anguish from Scar.

No one really knew how to react after that, but Grian, considering he was the one who had brought the creeper over “as a prank”, dedicated his life to him as “compensation”. Anyone who had eyes could see that it was an apology made from guilt and love, if you could call whatever codependent mess those two had going on as love.

The tale spread rapidly, as gossip often does, and similar instances of respawn were discovered. Skizz’s body laid limp and lifeless as the wound from the enderman that slain him healed. Bdubs’ broken bones from falling off the Crastle (broken enough to take his green life) twitched and spasmed as they worked to straighten themselves out enough to bring his body back to life. A similar thing happened to Scar a bit later, go figure, when he fell into a ravine.

Everyone knew the horror of a respawn. Even those who had not lost a life yet, like Martyn, knew this. They’ve witnessed it and it hurt so much more when the person was one close to one’s heart.

Like Ren.

The same Ren who Martyn watched explode alongside Jimmy and Skizz, blown up by what should have been a failed trap.

Yet, standing on Black Heart Altar, Ren expressed his desire for Martyn to take his yellow life from him.

“I’m asking thee, me hand, my loyal companion,” Ren started, voice low and solemn. He looked down at the diamond axe in his hands for a moment before meeting Martyn’s gaze the best he could through his black shades. Ren reached out his hand for Martyn to take and, when he did so, Ren guided the hilt of the axe into Martyn’s calloused palms. Martyn’s breathing hitched as Ren continued, “to slice the head of ye king.”

“My liege, I,” Martyn tried not to stutter as he mind raced to process exactly what Ren was asking of him. The diamond axe weighed heavily in his hands as he tightened his grip on the hilt. “Why must you ask this of me? This goes against everything I stand for. I vowed to protect you.” “You made a vow to follow me to the end, as I with ye.” Ren dipped his head, placing a fisted hand against his heart. “As a yellow life, I am restricted. In my last life, I can protect both ye, me hand, and the rest of Dogwarts. I can enact revenge upon our enemies. With this next respawn, I can bring with me Red Winter. This is the way it must be.” Martyn squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears that threatened to form away. He was a loyal knight to his king. He knew he would do anything Ren asked of him, even if he didn’t like what it entailed. Opening his eyes, his voice barely a murmur, he shifted his grip on the axe and said, “I shall make this quick, my liege.”

Ren’s lips twitched into a bittersweet smile as he accepted the fate he placed upon himself. Martyn stood over his king as he kneeled before him with the nape of his neck exposed. Ren’s long brown hair fell to the side, leaving skin covered with faded purple bruises bare for Martyn to see. 

The faint taste of copper was detected by Martyn’s taste buds as he bit his canines down hard on his tongue. Mixed feelings burrowed deep in Martyn’s stomach and he couldn’t handle it any longer. He turned off his brain, raised the axe, and brought it down on Ren’s neck. Within one movement, Ren’s head was decapitated from his body.

Ren’s body slumped forward, falling limp on the altar as the head bounced once before rolling a bit away. A sob croaked from Martyn’s lips as he tried to calm his trembling body. Tears began to blur his vision as he dropped to his knees, diamond axe dripping red still in his hands.

Without having to look, Martyn knew why his communicator was dinging like mad. Red Winter was coming, born from spilled blood and betrayal of his own vow. There was nothing to do now but wait.

.

.

.

A whole day-night cycle could have gone by and Martyn wouldn’t have known. It was like Martyn was in a timeless bubble on the altar as he waited for Ren’s body to put itself back together. Martyn refused to leave, no matter how pathetic he looked. It wasn’t the best image to give anyone who may come visit (or attack) unexpectedly, but he couldn’t find himself caring. He couldn’t leave Ren’s body alone like it was. He cared too much about him for that.

Ren’s decapitated body started moving, pushing itself up with his arms to get to his knees. Martyn choked on a sob, unnaturally vibrant green eyes trained on Ren as he leaned forward to grab his own head. Ren raised his head above his neck before slamming his head down on himself. When the base of Ren’s head hit his neck, the area around his neck glowed brightly as it mended together.

“Milord?” Martyn inquired to figure out how here Ren actually was, voice cracking. Ren didn’t respond, his shoulders hunching forward with an awful cracking sound. He started to cough, glops of blood and spit spattering onto the stone of the altar. Martyn dropped the diamond axe, unaware he was still holding it, and rushed to his king’s side. “Ren!” “Me hand,” Ren rasped hoarsely, clapping his hand against Martyn’s shoulder, “you did well.”

Martyn usually relished in Ren’s praise, but he couldn’t find himself able to accept it now. He was sure it would have felt better under any other circumstance. Instead of giving a direct response, Martyn slung Ren’s arm over his shoulder to help walk him to their beds. 

They stayed silent as Martyn guided Ren, allowing what had just occurred to sink in. Besides, Ren had recently been decapitated. It was only to be expected that his throat would hurt for a bit.

Once they had sat down on their shared bed, Ren removed his dark sunglasses and tucked them away into his inventory, leaving crimson hues on full display. They were unsettling, to say the least. Martyn had just started to get used to seeing yellow when he got lost in his eyes, but he supposed he could get used to the red Ren's final life brought.

The coppery taste in his mouth only grew as he shoved his tongue between his molars. He had to stand strong and unwavering while his king recovered. What use as a knight would he be if they went through all of that only for something to happen because he wasn’t prepared? Because he was unable to handle his grief over the man sitting right there.

Get over yourself, Littlewood. Martyn huffed to himself as he dug a bottle out of one of the chests. He turned to fill it with water when the bottle slipped from his hand, shattering glass shards all over the ground. A frustrated noise akin to a growl grew in his throat as he kicked a particularly large chunk of glass against the wall and turned back to the chests to find another bottle. He would clean up the glass after he got Ren some water.

“Me hand.” His voice was still raspy, but it wasn’t as quiet or hard to hear this time. He cleared his throat and spoke louder, assuming that Martyn hadn’t heard him the first time. “Martyn.”

“I will clean it up, my liege, don’t worry,” Martyn promised as he filled the bottle with water. Once it was filled, he placed the cork into it so it wouldn’t spill on his way back to Ren. “Just let me take care of you first.”

Ren’s dog-like ears briefly flattened against his head as he tilted his head. “I do not believe it is I who needs to be taken care of, me hand.”

Martyn’s body stiffened at that and he promptly shifted his gaze to the floor, blindly holding out the bottle to Ren. “You are the one who has died, not me.” “Yes,” Ren agreed, taking the bottle from Martyn, “but that means I am fully saturated and all of my wounds have been healed, only leaving scars in their wake. You have not had the same treatment.”

Martyn’s eyes wandered up Ren’s body, taking notes of the familiar curves and marks, before stopping to linger on his neck. The marks Martyn had left there from one of their many nights spent together were gone, leaving only fresh scar tissue from the axe’s blade around his neck, looking much like a decorative choker. He did not say a word.

Ren sighed softly as he rose to his feet. He wiped away some tears Martyn hadn’t realized were there with his thumb, cupping Martyn’s face. Against what was probably his better judgment, Martyn leaned into his hold, leaned into the comfort he was offering. “I know that what I asked of ye, while necessary, takes a toll. Perhaps it was not fair of me to ask thee, but I could not imagine willingly dying at the hands of another. In this world of little trust, I trust thee, Martyn Littlewood.” A weak, somewhat sputtering laugh bellowed in Martyn’s chest, tears now freely flowing. “I would do it a million more times if you asked me to, milord. I will follow you to the end of the world, and thereafter.”

“I know,” Ren whispered, airy and breathless. He pulled Martyn close to him, pressing their bodies together as his muscular arms wrapped tightly around Martyn’s smaller frame. Martyn melted into his embrace, allowing himself to be engulfed in the warmth he provided. His limbs lost some of their tension and his head felt sort of floaty, as if this wasn’t real.

Part of him wished it wasn’t real and that this was simply a bad dream, but Martyn knew that would be foolish thinking. The reality of their situation was just that: real. No amount of wishing on stars would change the truth. He buried his face into Ren’s chest, breathing in his musky scent and listening to his beating heart.

“Woah! Hey!” Out of nowhere, Ren hoisted Martyn up, legs dangling off the ground as he was now held in the air by Ren. “That’s out of order! Put me down, you cheeky motherfucker!” “As ye king, I’m ordering thee to get some rest.” Ren didn’t loosen his hold, simply turning and walking them back to their bed. There was a twinkle of mischief in his red eyes, one that may have unnerved Martyn in another situation. “It’s been a long day and I think we deserve some quiet before tomorrow when we show the server that Red Winter has arrived.”

Martyn scrunched his nose, not appreciating being manhandled like this. Okay, that was a lie; he liked it when Ren manhandled him, but he wasn’t going to admit that out loud. Martyn stopped struggling, hiding his light blush by pressing his face into the crevice between Ren’s neck and shoulder. “As you wish, my liege.”

“Good boy,” Ren teased, setting Martyn down on their shared bed. They had shoved their separate beds together a while ago, claiming it was for warmth and protection to the others, but knowing that it was more than that. The nature of their relationship was for them to know and the others to keep their noses out of. “Oh, sod it,” Martyn huffed with a roll of his eyes as Ren climbed into bed next to him. “You’re the one who’s part dog. I should be telling you that.”

“Maybe you can,” Ren offered, his tone lowering a few octaves in the way he knew Martyn liked. He scooted closer to Martyn so they were close once more. Ren’s hands found their way on Martyn’s body once more, one getting tangled in his blonde hair and the other just above his hip, as he leaned close to pepper several kisses on Martyn’s face. “Let me take care of you?”

Martyn’s heart skipped a beat as electricity shot down his spine in anticipation. His worry, grief, and adrenaline mixed with his love and care for Ren, creating a hurricane of emotions that could only be quieted with an outlet, with a display of loyalty. 

A verbal answer wasn’t needed as Martyn captured Ren’s lips in a kiss. He wasn’t meant with hesitance for this path has been well-explored before. It didn’t take long for the kisses to deepen and become more passionate, hands trailing each other’s bodies.

For all anyone knew, they could both die tomorrow, so Martyn wasn’t going to waste tonight and leave his future self with regret. If he was going to die, and he knew that fate was waiting for him in the near future, then he wanted to go out with a few good memories to recall as it all went black.

[battle-facility-zine]

Contributor Application Tips!

Hello, Challengers! With a little less than a day away before our Contributor Applications open on February 20th at 4:00PM EST we the mods here at In Pursuit of Victory! felt that it would be helpful to provide a list of tips to keep in mind before applying for those who are new to zines. Without further ado, here they are!

Double check that all of your links are viewable before submitting! What do we mean by viewable? Well, it's exactly how it sounds—anyone who clicks the link must be able to see it without requesting permission. This extends not only to personalized Google Drive portfolios/samples but also to Archive of Our Own links as well; if your fics are currently set to the "for logged-in users only" setting then we cannot review your applications.

As per our guidelines, please make sure that you have properly tagged each of your fic submissions! Tagging is not just an essential part of fanfiction writing in general but also a courtesy to the mods who are reviewing your application. For those submitting AO3 links, the tags on the fic itself should suffice—and we would also appreciate additional notes in the body of your application too—but if you plan to submit excerpts via Google Drive please make sure to list the tags at the top of each sample document.

Put your best foot forward, or rather in this case, make sure to put your best pieces first! We generally recommend making a Google Drive folder, especially for those interested in applying for the Artist Roles, with each piece numbered in an order that allows you to lead with your best pieces. We also accept any other portfolio website that you may want to submit instead, just make sure you link to the exact page you mean the mods to land on!

Make sure to only put pieces that you think are your best or represent your current style! While it might seem tempting to pad out your portfolio with as many pieces as possible, this might actually hurt the overall quality of it. It's better to submit five of your absolute greatest hits than ten samples of mixed quality.

Remember the most important thing is that you have tried your best and that a rejection isn't a reflection of your worth as an artist or a writer! It is an incredibly brave thing to put yourself and your art out there and that is far more important than the result you may get in the process of doing so.

We the mods are so thankful and appreciative to all of the support the zine has received thus far and we are so excited to move onto this next phase of the project with you all. Good luck, to every Challenger out there!

[jilyawards]

hey do fics have to be on ao3 or can they be “visibly” posted on ff?

Hi anon!

Fics can be posted on Tumblr, AO3, or FF.net, they just need to meet the criteria of not being a repost and being posted or updated within the eligibility timeframe (November 1st 2023 - November 1st 2024). Please also double-check what criteria are set for whichever category you are nominating it for as some of these vary. Fics must be publicly viewable (i.e. not deleted or hidden in a collection) otherwise we can't check they meet the criteria. Historically people have accidentally nominated fics for the wrong timeframe or category. e.g. it wouldn't make sense for an angsty hurt/no comfort fic to find itself in the fluff category. Or for a fic written and completed in 2014 to be eligible for a 2024 award.

The Jilyawards Team

[snack-o-ween]

Title: Broken Me Found Broken You

Author: JustSadThingsMostly. Transformative Works Policy: Unknown as of this posting.

Complete or In Progress: This fic is complete. Dated: December 2022.

Chapters: 16. Word Count: 77,490.

While there are some other plot things happening (Severus tries to spy for Lucius, and Regulus has a panic attack after an escalation of the First War), this fic is focused on Sirius and Severus. The "you need to talk to each other once a week" over the summer, being forced to room together at Hogwarts, Sirius giving Severus duelling lessons, Severus teaching Sirius Occlumency, and the very clear Enemies to Friends to Lovers. Like, there's no 'blink and you'll miss it' moments or easily skipping a few scenes to get on to the rest of the fic.

There's some world building-slash-expansion that might be interesting around duelling, "natural" Legilimens, and vampires (the Defence professor is a vampire this year). Severus is some flavour of neurodivergent, James is a Seer (in case "James as a little sight" is a confusing tag), and there's a relationship reveal in the second half. [For those who don't want to have that spoiled, it'll be below the excerpt.] Most of the fic is in Seventh Year with some nods to the future in James' visions (like, he Sees Sirius and Severus pretending to fight to cover up a relationship in 1995). The last chapter is Severus' point of view of the night in the Shrieking Shack, and there's enough of a hopeful ending to nod to James' vision being true in a few years in Grimmauld Place.

An excerpt from Chapter 2:

Severus felt like he was handing Sirius a loaded gun and asking him not to shoot.

"I’m…actually…like you. Well, I fancy girls, too. But, it’s a bit of both, really."

Sirius blinked at him, his eyebrows tightening.

There. Even. They were even. Severus could feel it. Now it was a truce. Now Sirius would feel safe. Severus opened his mouth to ease the tension. Like a "don’t tell McGonagall that bit", but this was a bigger deal to Sirius, this stuff. He honestly didn’t know where to look. They’d never been in this place before.

Copied over from the comments:

Not really related to the fic itself: "Broken Me Found Broken You" is the fic where I had to recover from the fic equivalent of a book hangover. After I figured out that's what it was (login-only post on my fort; publicly viewable community post).

The playlist introduced me to the Ruen Brothers.

For people who don't like surprise ships or relationship reveals that aren't tagged whatsoever: Regulus/Remus.

I can't say that this completely rules out some of the pining where Regulus lets others think he fancies an older witch because it is possible to have feelings when in a relationship. He also might be projecting an old crush or something. It's very much not the focus overall, so the reader's free to fill in some details.

[theeeveetamer]

ATTENTION AO3 USERS

TL;DR: Writing AI is possibly stealing AO3 fics to train itself to write. 😬😬😬 I suppose it's not 100% confirmed, but given the history of AI "artists" I think we should all be aware of this.

You might want to set your fics to "only viewable by logged in users" until we get word from AO3 on this one.

[creative-hanyou-girl]

I NEED HELP REGARDING FANFICTION AND AO3 PLEASE!!!!!!!

Hey guys, does anyone know if Ao3 can let me make an account and stories that are viewable only to ME and nobody else, regardless if they are registered Ao3 users or not?

I've been wanting to make a seperate Ao3 account from my main account that's purely for the use of moving my favorite FF.Net fics from other authors there, especially since @inukag sounded the alert about FF.Net in this post yesterday. I had already been thinking about this before hand, but her post was a huge reminder to me.

It's just that I need a platform or site where I can archive these fics in a way where once I've posted them on there, than I can delete the original file that's in my phone, or computer or whatever device I'm using. A single fic file takes up storage space on said device, and a lot of it too if it's a long fic. But if I can upload a file into an archive like Ao3 or FF.Net (where once you've posted it on there, you can delete the original file from your device), than that'd solve the problem.

The thing is, if I were to do something like that on Ao3, I don't want to make the fics public in case the authors wouldn't want their stories posted for general audiences outside of FF.Net. I just want it to be for my own viewing pleasure and my viewing pleasure only. But I don't know if Ao3 will allow me to do that, which is why I'm hesitating. If I could, I'd ask all the authors directly if it's okay to do something like that, but most of these fics are OLD and their authors haven't even touched FF.Net in years and haven't provided any additional social media info within their bios, so chances are that when I try messaging them on FF.Net, a lot of them may not even respond at all.

If I wasn't worried about that, and could get the proper permission from the authors that simply, I wouldn't be so worried about posting them more publically, but because it's not always that simple (especially for the older fics), that's why I only want to archive these fics completely privately for only me. But I want to do it in a way where I can post it somewhere that doesn't take up storage space on my devices, and that's why I'm looking at Ao3 right now or anywhere similar.

Part of me just wants to throw caution to the wind and start posting my favorite fics to Ao3 regardless if they're public or not and just give the proper credit to the authors in question by clarifying who they are in the Ao3 Summary area, but would that still really be okay? Wouldn't it be just like reposting fanart without permission???

This is why I need your guys' help. I just want to know if there's a way I can post COMPLETELY PRIVATE, ONLY FOR ME fics onto Ao3 with a seperate account, OR if there's a similar website or platform I can do that on and have it be in a way where once it's on that site/platform, then I can delete the OG file from my device itself, but the fic would still be posted on the site I archived it on. The closest I've gotten to an alternative is Google Docs, but it doesn't do the proper spacing.

If anyone has suggestions or can help me out, that'd be awesome.

[whiskehorange]

Your Horror Mother’s (NEWLY PRICED) Writing Commissions

I’m Whiskey, otherwise known as Kayla, Horror Mom, etc! If you’d like to help by supporting me financially I’ve decided to open up writing commissions for those who’d like something a little bit more personal and longer than a normal post!

If you're interested you can contact me here:

horrormomscommissions@gmail.com

DM on tumblr (here!) for questions

So what will you be paying for?

I do not write fics, however I will write what I call Hefty Headcannons (HH)! This will be a series of bullet points like typical headcannons posts, however each bullet will be a "hefty" paragraph or so! These bullets will also be more in depth according to the request that is given, therefor the plot will be "loose"(unlike a fic) but still have large amounts of material per bullet.

As for the request itself, I will only be taking one character per commission!

Prices:

Extra - Small: 5 - 6 bullets for $5

Short: 8 - 10 bullets for $15

Medium: 11 - 14 bullets for $10

Long: 20 - 25 bullets for $25

$20 flat extra if it is an "extreme kink" that I normally would not write/feel comfortable writing (Ex. piss, vomit, feet, etc.). Of course, mention the kink in the request and I will let you know if it falls under that category or not or if I'm willing to write it!

I will also be taking payments upfront to ensure that you are serious about the inquiry.

I take payments through Venmo, CashApp, and PayPal.

What and Who I will write for:

Will: I will write smut, fluff, extreme kinks(of my choice, depends on price), x reader, angst, suicide/abuse mentions (read my rules post in my bio to get a better idea if you're confused) and either gender neutral, male, or female readers

I don't feel comfortable doing either trans or any other gender/pronoun specific reader not mentioned because I myself am not trans. I don't want to make you guys pay for me to write about something that I can't properly detail it in writings and you end up not getting what you paid for! I'll gladly do them in my regular inbox, but I don't want to make any uncomfortable or feel misrepresented with my writings, especially if you're paying!

Not: Underage, character x character, incest, rape, scat, & graphic detailing of abuse/suicide

Who (those I'm the most comfortable doing in depth writings for based on my own knowledge. If you want anyone else, you just have to ask and I'll see what I can do based on your request!):

Jason Voorhees

Michael Myers

Thomas Hewitt

Billy Loomis &/or Stu Macher

The Creeper

Hannibal (NBC only atm!)

Otis Driftwood &/or Baby Firefly

Brahms Heelshire

Vincent, Bo, &/or Lester Sinclair

Harry Warden

Pyramid Head

Amanda Young &/or Mark Hoffman

Jack Torrance

Art the Clown

Doom Head

Leslie Vernon (Depends on the request!)

Asa Emory

Carrie White

Eddie Gluskin

Anton Chigurh

As for timelines based on when your works should be done, it will depend on A) which length the request is and B) which characters are in said requests. These commissions will have priority over my regular inbox of course, but keep in mind I do still work on my regulars inbox requests.

These commissions will be emailed back to you as a viewable doc (seeing as the format I would like to use works odd as a pdf) and you have the choice to let me post it to the public after it's done! If not, I understand of course, but if you'd allow me to post it I could get more traction and hopefully more buyers!

Of course, come to my DMs with any questions 😎🔪

[tgm-fic-exchange]

Publishing on AO3

You will be uploading to our moderated and unrevealed (works will not be viewable until we make them which will be August 30) ao3 collection titled: Top Gun: Maverick Fic Exchange

Before making any uploads, please let the mods know you have completed your fic. We will provide you with your prompter’s ao3 user so that you may upload it as a gift to them. 

Open the collection here. 

Click “Post to Collection”

Fill out each required field, add your tags, and add your work text. 

Be sure to enter your prompter’s ao3 username in the second line under the Associations category. 

Click post to complete

*If you are someone who writes directly in ao3 (instead of using a google/word doc) you can type ‘tgm_ficexchange’ in the ‘Post to Collections / Challenges’ category directly above the ‘Gift this work to’ option. This will add your work to the collection when you upload.

If you have uploaded to ao3 before, it’s essentially the same process. If you do not see your work posted right away, don’t worry, it may take a couple days until we get around to approving it (it will still remain unrevealed until August 30*). When your writer uploads, you will be able to see you’ve been gifted a work but not the user or the work itself. 

Hopefully this covers everything, reach out to us if there’s any confusion and we’ll do our best to clear it up!

*Edit August 26: Short-sighted on my part not to account for how drop-outs and general management would impact when things are uploaded. Works will begin to be revealed August 30 but not all at once, the reveals will span over a week’s time, and then some to account for those who are working with an extension. 

[witcherwheeloftheyear]

This is a kinkmeme for The Witcher - the books, the games or the TV show, everything is welcome here. It runs on Dreamwidth and Pillowfort as well as on Tumblr and gets mirrored across all three.

How does this work?

1. people submit prompts to this blog 2. other people write fic for the prompt (or create art) 3. they then either @witcherkinkmeme with the fill or submit it here

If you want to leave an anonymous prompt without registering, then go to Dreamwidth here.

​There is a collection on AO3 for the kinkmeme where prompt fills can be posted!

There’s now a viewable spreadsheet with pairings, kinks and fills!

Rules:

1. Kinktomato - Your Kink Is Not My Kink And That’s Okay. Do not bash or flame anyone for content you do not like. It’s your own responsibility to curate your experience here and that includes not reading stuff you do not like. Please be respectful to each other. 2. Please warn for:

rape/non con

underage

graphic violence

3. A prompt can be filled multiple times (more cake for everyone!)

4. describe your prompt in the subject of your submission by mentioning a pairing (A/B denotes sexual and/or romantic relationship, A&B non-sexual/non-romantic) and a kink or situation. You are welcome to describe the prompt more fully in the comment itself. For example:

Geralt/Triss - orgasm control 5. this kinkmeme has a sister community on Pillowfort here (link) and on Dreamwidth here., I’ll be trying to mirror prompts across all communities

Mod: Bookscorpion

[shelbyshoe]

Divine Touch

One-Shot

Lucy is a renowned artist for the nobility longing for a man, well a muse, that she can't stop painting. Natsu is a god of creativity who craves freedom from Lucy's studio. Their desire for each other mount, but they fear the one golden rule. With just one touch their contract is dissolved, destroying everything they've built and keeping them apart forever.

(A nalu fic with some gruvia.)

Rated: Explicit (Sexual Content and Harsh Language)

Words: 8413

FF.net

AO3

“You made my nose crooked.” Lucy’s hand jerked, and her heart jumped to her throat. Natsu stood behind her, leaning against her worktable that stretched out in the center of the room. His long pale sleeves rolled up on his forearms. The fabric fell loose enough to hang slightly open at his muscular chest. Her countless hours of mixed media stained the wooden table. Lucy had warned him about staining his clothes, but he never listened. To be fair, he materialized in her studio each time without a spot on him. She checked the room in case anyone entered and heard her speaking to no one. Long windows perched on the walls just below the high ceiling. Only the clouds viewable from where they stood as though she worked in the sky. “Well, now you’ve just ruined it.” Natsu pointed to the lump of clay she worked on. His interruption had startled her enough to make the nose sit at an awkward angle. The life-sized mess of clay mocked her efforts. The rest of the body molded into a crude shape to suggest she sculpted a person.

“If you came to critique my work so early, Natsu, you can leave.” Lucy splayed her hands over the face to conceal it. Embarrassment crushed her chest as it did when he caught her working in her messy appearance. She cut her fingernails short, tied her hair up in a lopsided bun, and wore a gray smock covered in clay. Lucy put her tool down on the table beside him. “Shouldn’t muses be helpful?” He was. “And inspire their creative?” Oh, he did. The little tilt of his lips told her he already knew her true feelings.

“You’re my favorite creative,” Natsu said. If Lucy had ever felt swayed by his blunt declarations, she hadn’t let it show. She hung her smock on a hook behind her. His soft masculine laughter ran up her spine like fingertips. Objectively, a muse was a conduit for inspiration that she used daily. Subjectively, if Lucy remained in his presence for much longer, she’d break the one golden rule. No creative could touch their muse. One soft brush between them, and it was bye-bye inspiration. At the height of her career, she couldn’t risk losing the one thing that got her there.

“I’m your only creative.” She moved to the stone sink at the back of her studio. The water was cool against her skin and ran murky with the clay that caked her fingers.

“You don’t know that.” His warm breath brushed across her ear, but when she glanced over her shoulder, he stood in the same position far from the sink. A trick of the gods and Natsu was nothing if not a trickster.

“I told you not to do that.”

“Do what?” He held his hands up and leaned away from the table. She turned back to her sink as to not give him anymore fuel to his fire. His footsteps fell light against the hard floor. “The eyes are right.”

“What?” Lucy took the small towel on the serving tray and wiped her hands dry. Natsu stood in front of the unfinished clay version of himself. He leaned forward with a hand resting at his chin to stare his imitation in the eyes. At least she’d gotten the height correct.

“The eyes.” He pointed to the sculpture’s face. The crooked nose distracted her from the observation he made. “They’re perfect. Don’t change them.” Lucy stood beside him to see what he saw. When she made a sculpture, she worked on the face first. This was the first piece she’d ever done that clearly resembled Natsu. All the male figures she painted resembled him in one way or another, but she had concealed that fact well enough. When during the process of this project had she decided to sculpt Natsu completely? “Why did you stop?” He gestured to her freshly washed hands. They stood close enough that if she leaned, she could press her arm against his. The warmth of his skin sliding against her palms. Her fingertips tiptoeing across the valleys of his tanned muscles. His hands lazily navigating her body. Only a daydream.

“I don’t feel like having an audience.” She twisted away from him, keeping her focus on the material she used to wrap the sculpture, to prevent the clay from drying in her absence.

“That’s a shame.” His head tilted to the side and unabashedly examined her. Like a child observing an ant under glass. The casual way his long rosy hair fell to the side of his head made the youthful flush of his skin stand out. “I wanted to stick around longer.” He shrugged and shoved his hands into the pockets of his tan pants. “Guess I’ll see you around.” If those around them could see Natsu, they would surely know he wasn’t mortal. Power clung to his unblemished skin like embers on coal. The unfinished sculpture loomed over her. What a fool she was to believe that she made anything near the real thing. She threw the drape over the clay and tied it securely. The room still enough for her to know he’d disappeared. In Natsu’s absence, the room no longer felt vast like the sky— just another room in the long rows of studios. Her bag lay by the door where someone lightly knocked and peeked into the room.

“Oh, you’re already done?” Gray ran his fingers through his jet-black hair. An awkward habit, though not as awkward as his sporadic nudity.

“I feel uninspired.”

“The muse didn’t show up?” Gray chuckled and stepped into the hall. She closed the door behind her as if by seeing inside, he’d know Natsu had stood within. To everyone else, a muse was a mythical being. Speaking of divine assistance would put her job in danger.

“I wish,” Lucy said.

“I figured we could eat something.”

“I thought you had a class?”

“They canceled, so I picked up a job. I’ll have enough time to eat beforehand.” They fell into step together through the pristine hall. Each intricately carved door was a studio with an artist within. The royals collected them the way one would collect art itself. Lucy never complained—thankful she had a job and a place to stay, a small boarding room with all the other students at the adjacent university. Gray was in a similar boat, and while he didn’t like to talk about his past, she knew he’d come out of tough times. He pushed open the tall heavy doors to the gallery. The nobles displayed the artists’ works inside.

“Sometimes I wish your medium weren’t ice. Your work deserves to be here just as much as the rest of us,” she said. All her sculptures and paintings remained here, one-of-a-kind pieces. She eyed a painting she’d completed a month ago. A male back spread bare across the canvas. His tan muscles contorted while swathed in pink silk fabric. No one would know the subject was Natsu. Not even the muse himself knew. Lucy painted the torso alone in fear that his blossom hair would give her away.

“Why? So, the nobility can display my work and keep it from the rest of the world like pack rats?” His face scrunched in a scowl.

“I honestly don’t care what happens to my pieces.”

“I never understood that about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve always felt attached to my pieces.” He squinted at another one of her paintings. The portrait was tall and shrouded in dark colors. The man in the piece wrapped his arms around himself, gardenias peeked out between his clenched fingers, and red carnations bloomed in place of his face. The darkness wrapped around his bare body like an intruding force. She named it Vulnerability. When she painted this one, she had suspected the nobility would hate it, and Natsu would know it was of him. Thankfully, neither of those things happened. In fact, this was Natsu’s favorite painting. She often caught him gravitating toward it when she left the studio late at night. Lucy only ever met him in the art building. When the crickets sang their lament and the world lay still, she’d lie in her cupboard-sized boarding room and question whether she had imagined the muse. Then, she’d find him there gazing at a portrait that she chose not to say was him.

“That’s the thing.” Lucy paused in front of the painting. As much as she wanted to have a strong connection to it, she didn’t. The work merely paints on fabric compared to the real thing. “I’m attached to the act of creating, not the creation.” He shook his head, and they moved to the door that led to the outside world.

“What kind of job did you take?” she asked. The summer heat whipped her in the face as soon as they left the building. The daylight kissed her skin like a familiar whisper at her ear.

“I’m posing for some art students at the university.”

“Nudes again?” She worked to keep the smile from showing on her face while Gray scoffed at her.

“I do more than nudes, Lucy.” His brows came together in a look of indignation.

“But they are nude poses, right?” She jabbed him playfully with her finger.

“Well, yes, but that’s beside the point.” The farther away they were from the palace, the more her mind cleared of her work, and of Natsu. She’d return as she always did.

________________________________________

If the daylight whispered to her, then the moonlight howled. Lucy’s feet brought her to the studio like an obsession that evening. The studio remained the way she had left it trapped in time, waiting for her return. She lit the room and pulled the cover off her work. While Natsu’s impromptu visit flustered her into destroying a part of the sculpture, she had a chance to see the real thing as a reference.

With a carving tool, she scraped the abomination from the sculpture, sat at the table to remake the nose, and attached the clay to the face. Of course, Natsu was right. The nose rested perfectly with the rest of his face now that she had redone it. Lucy stepped back from the clay figure and eyed her work. He’d told her not to touch the eyes as though he knew she’d thought of changing them. Why? This version of Natsu loomed dark and pensive. The real one radiated mischief and stood bright in her room, in the sky. Yet, he’d told her they were perfect. She would keep them, if only for his confirmation of his likeness. Lucy dipped a brush in water and smoothed the surface of his clay face, an intimate gesture as if to caress his skin. She had a tune stuck in her head and hummed it as she worked. Her body relaxed into the familiar rhythm of creation, and her fingers made light guiding markings for a mouth. Natsu wore a smile the way others wore clothes. His upturned lips in a guise of charm. Her sculpture told another story. The story of a man who peeled off his smile at the end of the day and gazed at a world in which he wished he belonged. With another wet brush, she worked to mold the lips in a way that she imagined. They came easiest to her. Once the eyes told the story, the rest of the face followed. She mixed more clay, sat at her workbench, and went about shaping the ears. Her body hunched forward in full concentration, so she hadn’t noticed another presence until she heard the tune she’d hummed earlier. Natsu sat across from her at the table. His forearms rested on the wooden surface, he hummed soft enough that she had barely heard it before, and his eyes fixed to her work. He didn’t appear playful like the afternoon, but his face lacked the pensive look her sculpture wore.

“When did you get here?” Lucy’s hand hovered over the clay ear with her detail brush. She sat up straighter and prayed she didn’t look a complete mess.

“The better question is, have I ever left?” The grin returned in full force, and he slouched into his arms to lay against the table. His eyes flicked up to the figure behind her. “Looks good so far.” A surprising sense of relief washed over her. He liked it. She took great interest in the half-formed ear in her palm as to avoid his gaze.

“I left the eyes.”

“I see that. I like the mouth.” She glanced behind her at the pensive mouth she’d made.

“Do you have to be present to give me inspiration?” she asked. He tilted his head and raised a brow.

“Yeah.” No explanation, no flowery language, and a look that told her she was ridiculous for asking.

“Then you really are always here?” Somehow, Natsu trailing behind her without her knowledge didn’t disturb her the way she knew it should.

“Yes and no.” His eyes flicked to the night sky out the high windows. “You know, this building doesn’t have a lot of windows.”

“Well, there’s one there.”

“The only skylight in the entire building is in this room.” A fleeting frown dashed across his face until a fixed grin took its place. “Sometimes I want to burst out that window and set the world on fire.” While an alarming confession from anyone else, from Natsu it felt free and harmless.

“You can’t leave?”

“None of us can.” Her hand froze amid a brushstroke down his clay ear.

“There are more muses here?”

“Yeah, you’d like them, Lucy.” He said her name with a cheerfulness that gave her a false sense of endearment as if she could believe he truly felt fond of her. She held the clay ear at arm’s length to see it next to the real thing. Just focus on work, Lucy. Other muses are none of your business.

“Move your hair back.” Lucy focused on the ear in scale and overall shape. Natsu propped himself on the table so that his face hovered next to the back of her hand. If he wanted to, he could lean in and press his cheek against her. Her heart perched at the base of her throat humming at the beat stuck in her head. He slid his fingers through his hair to expose the naked curve of his ear.

“This better?” he asked. The soft warm breeze of summer breathed through the room and brushed against the back of her neck. A shiver ran through her like static.

“I told you not to do that.” Her voice dropped lower than she expected it to. How bothered was she by this little game he played? His eyes traveled over her face and down her neck. He allowed his hair to fall forward and sat back in the chair. She expected the seat to creak under the adjusted weight, but the only sound in the room was her own breath. The absence of noise the reminder of what he was, what they were. When he stood from the table, the room chilled.

“I hope I helped you.” Natsu shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants and left through the door. Had she done something? The weight of his absence pressed against her chest. Her brush hovered over the clay cradled in her hand. Her inspiration had evaporated along with him, like a slap in the face that said they were different. A creative and their muse. Without Natsu, her progress slowed to a crawl. She agonized over her work, and her brain screamed for her to start a different task. She couldn’t work without him.

“This is ridiculous. One ear. I just need this one ear.” Her brush made all the wrong moves, all the most undesirable shapes, but she made progress. That was enough. “I’ve made art without him before. I can do it again.” How long had she relied on his inspiration for her own motivation? And like a muscle unused for years, she stretched.

________________________________________

“Lucy, wake up.” A warm hand shook her shoulder. Lucy pealed her cheek from the table. When had she fallen asleep? Her hands clutched the clay ear. She’d redone it a million times. The rim of the clay had lightened overnight from drying. Her stomach dropped sharply, and her body burst with adrenaline. Dry clay meant the end of her project, yet she found her work covered and tied. The spray bottle of water sat beside it. Relief washed over her body, her legs turned to mud, and she slouched back in her seat. “Whoa, are you okay? You weren’t here all night, were you?” Gray asked. He sat across from her and leaned against the table. The position reminded her of Natsu that evening. Everything reminded her of Natsu.

“If it makes you happy.” She set the clay aside and stood to retrieve more.

“You should take a break. What’s got you working all day and night?” His attention snapped to the draped figure, and he pointed to it. “This?” She brought the clay to the table and nodded.

“What do you think so far?” she asked. Gray’s brows shot up and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I didn’t see it. You really should get some sleep, Lucy.”

“You covered it for me. You must have seen.” Movement caught her attention. Natsu leaned against one of her shelves covered in art supplies. His interest remained on a tube of paint she’d left uncapped and planned to dispose of. Gray followed her gaze.

“I didn’t, I promise. You sure you don’t want to go home?” he asked. She shook her head. “You do look tired.” Of course, he didn’t see Natsu.

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m okay, really.” She kneaded the clay between her fingers.

“Do you need help with anything? I can at least come to check on you from time to time.” Gray leaned over the table to brush some hair behind her ear. How long had it been since she’d felt the warmth of someone’s skin? If he hadn’t pulled his hand away, she feared she’d lean into it. He apologized softly, lifting one of his dark brows. Natsu’s attention pulled from the paint and he moved to stand beside Gray. He leaned toward Gray’s head.

“That won’t be necessary,” Lucy said. These were the moments where the lunacy of having a muse sank in. If no one else could see Natsu, was he real?

“At least come to my studio for a bit.” He eyed her kneading fingers with a grimace. “A break or something.” He placed his hands over hers and the clay. Her fingers relaxed from their task. She grappled with his offer, as the sculpture loomed behind her and called like a siren. With Natsu in the room, it felt like a dam had broken. The object of her strange obsession stood beside Gray with a mirrored frown. Natsu tilted his head to Lucy and grinned. Oh no. If she acted out now, Gray would think her crazy. Natsu pursed his lips and blew a silent stream of air at the side of Gray’s face. Gods made no small gestures, so the gust of wind from his lips blew strong enough that Gray toppled from the table and lay on the floor. The artist sat up and held his cheek. While Natsu filled the room with laughter, Gray’s eyes widened as he scanned the room. Lucy dropped the clay and ran around the table to help Gray up. “What was that? Lucy, did you feel that?”

“Look, I’ll come by your studio this afternoon. I appreciate the concern.” She held out her hand to help him to his feet. His hand remained on his cheek as he spoke.

“Did you not feel that just now?”

“Feel what?” Play dumb, kill Natsu later. His hand dropped and he squinted at her. Natsu sat in the seat Gray ejected from and leaned his chin against his palm, watching the show.

“I’ll see you then; I guess.” Gray gave her a polite nod and scanned the room before he left. Lucy turned on Natsu as soon as Gray’s footsteps disappeared.

“What is wrong with you?”

“What? You didn’t want him here either.” He stretched as though he also took a nap at her art table. She went back to her spot across from him. “You have to admit his reaction was hilarious.”

“He was terrified.” Lucy worked the clay with aggression.

“He’ll be fine.” He waved a dismissive hand at the door and nodded toward her hands. “Lucy, you’re going to destroy that clay.” She slapped the clay against her work surface with a loud smack.

“I don’t need you interfering with my life.”

“Okay, then next time, I’ll leave your sculpture out to dry.”

“Gray covered it.”

“He told you he didn’t,” Natsu said. Lucy shook her head, picked up her clay, and carefully molded it into a new ear. When she completed them, she removed the cover from the sculpture and fixed the ears to Natsu’s clay head. She smoothed the clay with water and added clean details of the first strands of his hair that snuggly fit next to his ear. The flow of work kept her mind busy enough to ignore Natsu’s presence.

________________________________________

The bright afternoon sun soon flooded into the room and bathed the studio in warm light. Natsu had moved below the window and gazed up at the cloudless sky. His stance tense with hands wrapped in fists. His mouth tightened to a line and his jaw visibly clenched.

“I’m going to take Gray’s advice and take a break.” Her voice cut through his thoughts enough for her to witness him visibly relax. His scowl replaced with a sharp smile.

“Taking that ice queen’s advice?” He gave a clipped laugh. “I can’t believe he fell over like that.”

“What do you have against him anyway?”

“Nothing.” Natsu tilted his head away from the window. “He’s fun is all.” While his face appeared genuine, Lucy hardly believed his words.

“Muses are strange.” She washed up and covered her work to keep it from drying out. Her fingers slid her apron over the hook by the door. Natsu moved back to his seat, his leg bounced below the table, and his head turned back to the window. “Thank you.” His leg stilled.

“For what?”

“For keeping my work safe,” she said. He turned around in the chair, so that he straddled it, and studied her.

“Where are you going?”

“I said I’d go visit Gray.” Lucy held up a finger to stop him as he stood. “You are not coming.” His eyes glinted the way they did when she challenged him. “Natsu, I mean it, you’re just going to upset him.”

“It’s not like he can see me, Lucy.”

“I won’t be long. I’m coming right back here anyway.”

“Why do I feel like a dog that you’re leaving home for the afternoon?”

“Maybe, that is what I’m doing.” She closed the door as his laughter filled her ears. The sound made her stomach flip, and the feeling lingered all the way to Gray’s studio.

In the hall’s silence, she wished she’d allowed Natsu to go with her. Anything to liven up the cold dead air as she descended toward Gray’s place of work. She stood before his tall studio door and rapped at the metal entrance with the heavy knocker. When no one answered, she allowed herself in. The room dim except for a set of professional lights in the back. The room filled with the sound of tools on ice. His studio, half the size of her own, remained at a low temperature with dim lighting and no windows to preserve the piece.

“Gray?” The sounds stopped, and a chair moved behind a partition.

“Lucy, you made it.” Gray came to greet her, glancing behind her toward the door.

“It’s just me,” She said. He held his hand out for her to sit on a stool beside him. “How are you always shirtless in here? It’s freezing.” Gray laughed as he pulled away the partition to reveal the massive slab of ice behind it.

“Well, what do you think so far?” Gray stood next to her, eyeing the sculpture from her point of view. His fingers cradled his chin as he glanced between Lucy and the ice woman before them. Lucy had never seen this woman before. She lay on the ice like a mermaid basking on a rock. Her legs curled beneath her, one arm lay on the ice beside her, while the other hand slid through her hair. The dress she wore flowed beneath her. A slit on the side revealed ample hip and slender legs.

“Gray, this is amazing.” Lucy stood from the stool and walked around the sculpture. Sure, the fabric was still rough, and the ice beneath her needed work, but the person atop was beautiful. “Who is she?”

“Don’t smirk at me like that.” Gray reverted his gaze to the tools across the table beside the sculpture, but not fast enough for Lucy to miss the flush of his cheeks. Did he know this woman outside of work?

“Well? How long have you been dating?”

“It’s complicated.” Even without explanation, Lucy understood the feeling. Gray’s smile fell into a scowl at something behind her.

“What?” The room remained empty except for his equipment and other sculptures he’d worked on, all abandoned for this piece. From the moment she entered the room, until now, she felt another’s unfamiliar presence. Could it be?

“Nothing. I’m glad you like it.” He picked up a detail pick and went to work on the fabric of her dress.

“Hey, Gray?” Lucy’s mind swam with questions, but only one rang out for an answer. He acknowledged her without looking up. “Do you believe in muses?” His hand lingered over the ice.

“Muses are myths.” Even as the words left his lips, his hand remained still.

“I believe in them.” She crossed her arms over her body and shook in the icy room.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Gray, is this your muse?” She pointed to the sculpture in front of him.

“What if I said yes?” Gray twisted the pick between his hands and pursed his lips in the way he did when he bit at the inside of his mouth. Lucy placed a hand on his shoulder and felt him relax beneath her palm.

“Then I’d say—”

“Calm down, Lucy is just visiting.” Natsu leaned against the door with arms crossed over his chest.

“She’s all over him!” The woman stood behind Gray and shouted to Natsu. Her long, wavy blue hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned forward to point in the direction of Lucy’s hand. Natsu rolled his eyes. The woman huffed with hands on her hips, glaring at her.

“You’re his muse,” Lucy said. Juvia’s eyes widened, and her arms fell.

“Now you’ve done it,” Natsu said.

“Who are you?” Gray asked, noticing Natsu for the first time. He pulled Lucy closer to him and ignored the protest from the woman behind him. Natsu’s eyes narrowed on Gray’s hand on her waist. “What are you doing in my studio?”

“Well, now that she’s seen Juvia, I better introduce myself.” Natsu bowed low and gave Gray a shark’s smile. “I’m Natsu, Lucy’s muse.”

“Why can I see her?” Lucy asked.

“Probably because you guys were discussing us.” Natsu shrugged casually but tightened his grip on his upper arm.

“What do you want with Gray?” Juvia asked. She stood tall in the same dress as the sculpture.

“Juvia.” Gray’s voice warned, but he let go of Lucy.

“Want? He’s my friend.” Was his muse jealous? “Are you guys together?” Gray sighed.

“No, we work together,” he said.

“Juvia will change your mind!” the muse cried and blinked out of the room.

“Sorry about that, she’s—”

“Passionate?” Lucy said.

“Clingy,” Natsu added. Gray glared at him from his seat.

“What about you?” he asked. Natsu raised a brow, his smile remained planted firmly on his face.

“What about me?”

“Are you together?” Gray said.

“Gray, don’t do this.”

“No, I want his answer, Lucy.” Gray placed his pick on the tray and stood. “What is she to you? Just an artist to play with?”

“Are you not doing that with Juvia? Playing?” Natsu’s feet firmly planted to the ground as Gray took a step forward.

“Whoa there.” Lucy held an arm out in front of his chest. “I’m going to leave now.” She didn’t want to have them fight with each other. She also didn’t want to hear the answer to the question that Natsu avoided. She and Natsu weren’t together, she knew that, yet she feared hearing this from him.

“See you in the studio.” With that, Natsu disappeared.

“How have you not told me about him?”

“What is with that tone? I could say the same about Juvia, but you already know the answer to that.” Her frustration simmered, and Gray eased off.

“You’re right. It just all came out at once.”

“I know.” Lucy gave his hand a squeeze and pulled away. “I’m going back to work.” She hesitated in the doorway and gazed inside. Now that her friend stood alone in the room, he appeared so small. “Hey, Gray?” He glanced back at her. “I love the piece. Please, finish it.” He smiled as she closed the door and paced back to her own studio.

Her door slammed behind her as she entered. As she thought, Natsu stood under the high windows, gazing up at the vast sky.

“I told you not to follow me.” The frustration she thought she’d extinguished lit up.

“You know me better than that.”

“Yes, always meddling in my life.” Lucy pulled the smock over her and secured her hair on her head with a tie.

“How was that meddling in your life? You were talking about art and us.”

“What do you mean us? You and Juvia?” she asked, convinced he didn’t mean him and her. She pulled the cover away from her sculpture. How could she work on this while she fought with the very person she sculpted? I don’t need a muse to make art. Could she believe that now? All her success was due to the man standing in her studio. Somehow, the thought only infuriated her more. “Did you pick me?”

“What?” Natsu leaned against her art table, as she worked on the clay hair that fell around the sculpture’s face.

“Did you pick me to be your creative?”

“No.” Blunt as always. No hesitation. A part of her always imagined that he had chosen her specifically, that she was special to him. “Lucy, look at me, please.” Had she ever heard his voice this soft before? She turned to find him leaned off the table and in front of her. Lucy stood sandwiched between the art and the imitation in clay behind her.

“What? Have something else to add?” Her lip quivered. He no longer hid behind the veil of a smile.

“You’re crying.” He reached out, as if to brush away a tear, paused just before her skin, and pulled away. His brows came together, and his mouth set in a frown. “I can’t help you the way he can.”

“Gray? How?”

“I can’t touch you.”

“How would that help me?” she asked, wiping away at her cheeks. She took a breath to calm herself. Don’t fall apart, or he’ll leave. “Why are you bringing him up?”

“He can comfort you, can leave this building with you.” Natsu rubbed at the back of his neck and stared back up at the afternoon sun. “Can kiss you if he wanted to.” A warm breeze brushed against her skin, across her cheek, and down her neck. Her heart raced, and she worried he’d hear.

“Do you want to?” she asked. Natsu leaned forward so their lips hovered next to each other. Lucy closed her eyes and relaxed her mouth. The warmth evaporated, and when she opened her eyes, Natsu was gone.

Lucy sat at her studio table and stared at the sculpture swathed in fabric. Her finger slid over her lips as she pictured Natsu kissing her. She slumped against her worktable and shifted to see out her window. The afternoon sun had dropped away, and the studio tinted in purple and pink. Lucy stood and stretched. I can’t sit around forever. She stood before the piece that had taken so much from her already, uncovered it, and began to work.

________________________________________

“No peeking!” Lucy guided Gray into her studio with his hand firmly over his eyes.

“Can I look now?”

“Just stand here.” She positioned him far enough away that he’d be able to see the sculpture fully. “Okay, open your eyes.” Gray dropped his arms, his brows rose, and he gave a low whistle. “Well?”

“Lucy, this is incredible.” He stepped closer to the finished work. The clay stood dry and varnished. “The level of detail is amazing. Lucy, the clothes alone are immaculate.”

“So, you like it?”

“Of course! I mean, I wish it weren’t of that asshat, but I like it.” Gray’s smile allowed her shoulders to relax.

“I’m glad. And he’s not an asshat.”

“How long has it been since you’ve seen him?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Since our fight,” she said. He shook his head and let out a long breath.

“I mean, I’m one to talk. I haven’t seen Juvia.”

“Really? I thought she’d be all over you when I left.” Finding out about each other’s muses felt like so long ago.

“Not like we can really be all over each other,” Gray said.

“So, if you could, you would?” She nudged him with her elbow. His cheeks warmed and he nudged her back.

“I want her to see my piece once it’s finished, but I don’t know where she is.”

“Natsu told me once that he never really left. When I’m inspired, whether I see him or not, it is because he’s there.”

“Do you believe him?”

“I do. I never lost inspiration while I finished this piece. Something drove me that could only be described as supernatural.” Lucy had stared at the sculpture far longer than she’d like to admit, yet she still found her eyes gravitating toward Natsu’s face, his lips. “Did you ever resent her? Did it feel like you weren’t good enough without her?”

“Did I resent her for inspiring me? No.” Gray slumped into the seat beside them. “I have always been grateful to Juvia. I think of a muse as someone who boosts the talent we already have.” He shrugged and pointed to her piece. “Hard to resent them when they have us make things like this.” She couldn’t blame him for feeling that way.

“I miss him,” she admitted.

“I know.” Gray stood from the chair and made his way toward the door. “Let me know if you see them. If you need me, I’ll be finishing up downstairs.” Lucy nodded and sat down in her usual seat.

She stared at the door, out of focus, long after he’d closed it. Her thoughts swirl back to her own question. So, if you could, would you? She’d asked him that question without asking herself.

“They chose you for me.” Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin from Natsu’s voice. He leaned against the statue of his likeness and inspected his own face. Her heart twisted in his presence and her stomach lighter than air. When had she begun to feel this way for him?

“Who?”

“The fates. They told me you were important to me. I hadn’t even met you yet. Weird, huh?” He grinned and ran a hand through his rosy hair. “But I get it now.” Lucy still had to process the fates when he stepped forward and pressed his palms to the stained worktable. “Sorry that I haven’t been around to talk to.” His laughter bounced off her studio walls. Was he joking with her?

“What are you talking about, Natsu?” Lucy moved around the table and stood in front of him.

“I needed time to think about what I really wanted.” He eyed the statue of himself. “I realized that I need something from you first.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“It’s perfect, Lucy.” Her name on his tongue sounded sweet, and his eyes sparkled with excitement. “Looks just like me.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Are you? You’ve done it before.”

“I haven’t sculpted you before,” she said. Natsu felt different as he stepped closer. Desperate, maybe? She wasn’t going anywhere, so what was he doing? She shook her head. “Are you okay?”

“You’ve painted me perfectly. Every single time. Like you looked inside and pulled me out.” His eyes softened and his hand reached out to her. She sucked in a breath as his hand hovered over her cheek, her neck, and down her arm. While he never made contact, somehow, she still felt him against her skin.

“How did you know those paintings were of you?”

“I always knew. I assumed it was because I’m a muse, not because you cared. I still gave into that. I shouldn’t have.” He stared down at his open palm. “I keep thinking how selfish I am. A god with nothing to lose, and a woman who could have everything taken away.” This time, Lucy held out her palm. Her hand lingered just above his face, fingers traveled over his lips and hovered splayed over his chest. She could see his jaw work and his muscles tense, allowing her a moment to pretend. To have this power over a god. Intoxicating.

“Natsu, do you love me?” she asked. A warm feeling brushed over her hair and traveled along her jaw. His eyes softened, focused on her lips.

“Every day.” His eyes widened as he searched her face. “I made you cry again?” She shook her head.

“Damn the gods and the games they play.” She inhaled and willed herself not to break. “I want to be with you, to touch you.” She gladly took a gift from the divine, and this was the price she paid.

“Let me.” Natsu hadn’t wavered, as stone still as the statue that stood beside them. “Tell me and I will.” What was more important to Lucy? Could she live without the career she had worked tirelessly for? If she told him no, what would they be? Like a ghost, he’d linger. No amount of paint could give her what she really wanted. She’d forever wonder if she didn’t take the plunge.

“Please,” Lucy begged. Natsu pulled her to him like she was sand through his fingers. Quick enough and they’d never part. His lips pressed firmly to hers, softer and warmer than she ever expected. Her hands splayed against his chest. Then the world turned cold. Her hands grasped to nothing in the chilled air. Her eyes opened and she was alone. “Natsu?” Her blood turned icy in her veins, and her heartbeat pulsed in her ears. Just as he said, one touch and he disappeared. I can fix this. Her palm pressed against the worktable for balance. But how?

Lean tan arms wrapped around Lucy’s shoulders, a warm chest pressed to her back, and lips dusted a light kiss against her neck. She whirled around to face Natsu and the empty platform where her work once stood. “How?”

“I don’t know. I opened my eyes and stood in your art’s place.” Natsu’s gaze darkened and roamed across her body as if seeing her for the first time. She’d created a form for him, for a god. The relief welled up inside her chest. Lucy gripped the front of his loose shirt and pulled him to her. This time, she smashed her lips to his, hot and wanting. He wrapped his arms around her as she threaded her fingers through his silken hair. Natsu explored her mouth and pressed her back against the worktable. She nearly lost her breath when he pulled away, gazing down at her against the familiar wooden surface. The sun created a halo of light around his hair, and his lips flushed from their kiss. She reached up and finally pulled down his shirt. His tan skin chiseled like the god he was.

“Wanted a peak?” He grinned and pulled her hair down from her tie. Her blond hair fell around her head. He hovered over her and gave a long exhale.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Trying to calm down.”

“Why?” Lucy tugged at the loose fabric at his waist, tossed the shirt to the side, and worked on his pants. Her sex clenched at the look he gave her.

“I want to savor this.” He trailed his fingertips against her cheek, a whisper of contact against her skin, and her body arched up into his divine touch. So starved for him, her body responded. Natsu took his time to lazily trace her curves with his fingertips. When he moved around her most sensitive places, she groaned. Her skin going up in flames from the lack of what she really wanted. Lucy slid her fingers against his growing erection. Natsu sucked in air sharply through his teeth and grabbed her hand. He pulled her arm over her head and pinned her there. He feathered kisses down the base of her throat to her awaiting chest. Her nipples hardened to sensitive peaks through the fabric of her top, and his eyes flicked up as his lips surrounded them in heat. She wiggled her hips beneath him and pushed her breast against his mouth. The corner of his lips raised, as he pulled her button top open with a pop. Instead of pulling off her bra, he slipped the fabric around her breasts, pushing them up toward his mouth. He groaned as he suckled her nipple, running a thumb against the other in a languid tease.

“God.” She groaned and clung to him as he feasted.

“You called?” he said with a mouth full of her and skimmed his teeth against the flushed bud.

“Fuck.” She groaned when he slipped his hand to the juncture between her legs.

“I will in a minute.” Natsu flicked his tongue against the other nipple. The one he left cold without the warmth of his mouth.

“Will you quit joking.” The whimper left Lucy without her consent, dragged out by the long stroke of his tongue and his fingers that worked her folds over her pants. Natsu leaned back and pulled her body further on the table so her legs straddled him. He worked her pants and underwear from her hips, dropping them to the ground. With one swipe, her bra pulled from her body and into the heap of her clothes on the floor. “Natsu, please.” She reached out for him, her voice husky and lost. He worked his own clothes from his body. Heat pooled to her core with the full view of him, hard shaft freed and eager, and the tip glistened with precum. Instead of plunging forward, the way she thought he would, he kneeled before her and spread her bare to him. She raised herself up on her elbows unaffected by the slight embarrassment in the position. When he pulled her legs over his shoulders, her heart raced. Natsu’s deep green eyes met hers as he spread her folds with his thumbs and lowered his tongue to her damp arousal. Lucy’s head lulled to the side, her eyes half closed, as the pleasure rippled through her body. His name left her lips in a rush, and his tongue plunged deep into her heat. One of his thumbs swirled around her clit, and her body ached for more. She felt herself building up as he pushed further, stroked her faster, and made her legs shake at the sides of his head. She shoved her fingers into his hair. His eyes still locked on her face like a jungle cat. The look alone sent her into a frenzy of lust. The euphoria of her climax made her cry out. As soon as she thought he’d stop, he dragged another from her. Her body dropped against the table when he slowed. He moved her legs from his shoulders and rose with his mouth glistening from where he devoured her. Natsu buried his fingers inside her and pulled them out to slide them over his cock. His hand making an erotic squelch sound as he lubed himself with her. The anticipation built with each jerk of his hand, and she wiggled beneath him. Natsu grinned at her movement and clutched her thigh to still her.

“You’re not going to let me last, are you?” Natsu asked. She shook her head and opened her legs wider for him. He placed the head of his cock against her drenched vulva, and slowly sheathed himself into her, filling her with the length of him. Her moan resonated inside the studio, and his eyes rolled back with delight as he fully sank into her. He sat there for a moment inside her, breathing long and steady before he pulled out to the tip. Lucy almost protested until he surged deep into her with a hot smack of their skin. This time, it was his moan that filled the room. “Fuck.”

“I thought that’s what you’re doing,” she said. His hips moved, keeping any other joke from leaving her lips. He positioned his hands on either side of her head and moved his hips in a delicious rhythm inside her. Her hands clutched him for dear life, and she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts in exquisite pleasure. He slid a hand beneath her and pulled her hips up higher in just the right position. Her cries louder, faster than before as he rocked against her sweetest places.

“Coming for me, Lucy?” The teasing tone replaced with the husky sound of his voice, and the absolute ecstasy that she saw in his face. He slammed into her, as she rode her climax, and leaned back with her thighs in each hand. His lip caught between his teeth as he positioned himself. His cock visibly impaled her tight core. The sensual sight of him forever engrained into her mind.

“Come for me, Natsu.” Her voice, husky and raw in her own ears, spurred him on.

“Lucy.” Her name rolled off his tongue as he came deep inside her. His thrusts slowed and his chest worked to catch his breath. Natsu dragged out one of the chairs, sat, and pulled her to his lap. She straddled him and wrapped around him with her lips pressed into the crook of his neck. Warmth surrounded her in his embrace. Lucy slid her fingers through his tousled hair as they breathed. Natsu’s hands caressed her back in an intimate gesture that reminded her this was real.

“Don’t leave me again,” she said. His warm breath at her shoulder as he spoke.

“Never.” He enfolded her in his arms. She glanced at the pedestal that once held her work.

“You stole my sculpture.” Lucy felt his laugh against her.

“Would you like it back?” Natsu asked.

“No, you can keep it.” She sat back and cupped his face in her hands. Her thumb skimmed his skin. “I want to thank the fates.” Natsu placed his broad hand against the back of her head and pulled her into a deep kiss.

“Holy shit.” A voice came from the door followed by a click as it shut. Natsu’s boisterous laugh shook her. Lucy felt the heat spread instantly to her cheeks and playfully smacked him.

“Stop laughing. Someone saw us.”

“It was Gray.” Natsu barely got the words out. Lucy stood up quickly and moved around the table toward the door. “Hey, don’t go out like that.” He tossed her his long button up shirt. She wrapped the fabric around her and allowed it to hang to her knees. She peaked out of her studio and found Gray with his back against the wall beside the door. His hands clasped over his eyes.

“Stupid, stupid,” he said. She moved into the hallway and hugged herself tighter.

“Gray?” The man jumped from the wall and took in her appearance. His blushing cheeks darkened with the sight of her.

“I’m sorry. I should have knocked. I only came to tell you that I found Juvia.”

“Oh, well, I, uh.” What could she say to make this any better?

“Damn, I’m sorry,” Gray said again.

“This is a weird question, especially now, but did Juvia become your ice sculpture?” she asked.

“I freaked out, couldn’t say anything. I told her to wait, so I could tell you.” He wiped a hand across his face. “But, apparently, you didn’t need me to tell you.” The guilt of not having thought of Gray sank like a stone, and the embarrassment rose again.

“Shouldn’t you be going back to your girl?” Natsu opened the door wider. He’d pulled on his pants and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. Gray glared at him.

“I thought I’d tell my friend the good news, asshole.”

“Well, congrats. You better get to her. Hope everything works out for ya.” Natsu wrapped an arm around Lucy and pulled her into the studio. “Bye, ice boy.” He closed the door and pressed her back against it. “Thought he’d never leave.”

“Natsu! I was talking to him.”

“He’ll thank me later. I’m sure Juvia is losing her mind with jealousy since he came all the way over here for you.”

“You were helping him?” she asked. He shrugged and pulled her into another kiss. His hands snaked into his shirt, cupped the weight of her breasts, and slid his thumbs against her sensitive skin.

“I think we have a problem,” he said.

“What?”

“Now that I can touch you, I don’t want to stop.” Natsu pressed his forehead against hers and grinned.

“Then don’t,” Lucy said. He picked her up, her legs wrapped around his waist, and hoisted her to the worktable. She had to agree with him. She’d never get enough of this.

[witcherkinkmeme]

The Witcher Kinkmeme All Canons

This is a kinkmeme for The Witcher - the books, the games or the TV show, everything is welcome here. It runs on Dreamwidth and Pillowfort as well as on Tumblr and gets mirrored across all three.

How does this work?

1. people submit prompts to this blog 2. other people write fic for the prompt (or create art) 3. they then either @witcherkinkmeme with the fill or submit it here

If you want to leave an anonymous prompt without registering, then go to Dreamwidth here.

Rules:

1. Kinktomato - Your Kink Is Not My Kink And That's Okay. Do not bash or flame anyone for content you do not like. It's your own responsibility to curate your experience here and that includes not reading stuff you do not like. Please be respectful to each other. 2. Please warn for:

rape/non con

underage

graphic violence

3. A prompt can be filled multiple times (more cake for everyone!)

4. describe your prompt in the subject of your submission by mentioning a pairing (A/B denotes sexual and/or romantic relationship, A&B non-sexual/non-romantic) and a kink or situation. You are welcome to describe the prompt more fully in the comment itself. For example:

Geralt/Triss - orgasm control 5. this kinkmeme has a sister community on Pillowfort here (link) and on Dreamwidth here., I'll be trying to mirror prompts across all communities

​There is now a collection on AO3 for the Kinkmeme that prompt fills can be posted to! CLICK ME

There's now a viewable spreadsheet with pairings, kinks and fills!

[geraskierbigbang]

With claims just around the corner, we wanted to make sure everyone knows exactly what to expect over the coming weeks!

On April 9th, participants who have signed up as an artist will receive an email containing an anonymized preview of all submitted fics. This will include a numbered slide deck with information like the fic’s title, rating, relevant tags, and summary. For authors who choose to include one, there will also be an excerpt from the fic.

Most events like these tend to run claims one of two ways. We spent quite a bit of time weighing the benefits of each before coming to a decision about which one to use for the Geraskier Big Bang.

One way that bangs run claims is to have a window of time in which all artists submit their claim forms. At the end, behind the scenes, the mods sort those out and try to balance everyone’s preferences. This can sometimes work really well, but there are also some drawbacks. There will inevitably be a delay between submitting claims forms and finding out who you get to collaborate with. It also puts mods in a position to make choices that can end up feeling unfair to participants when many people want the same claim, or when someone ends up with a claim on the low end of their preference list.

The other way claims are frequently run is first come, first served. This takes mod judgment out of the equation entirely and in some ways can be a more fair and transparent system. Because it’s viewable in real time, it also means participants can learn the results within minutes of when a claim form is submitted. The trade-off is, when you run claims at a specific time, especially in a fandom with a worldwide following, it’s always going to be inconvenient for some folks.

After some deliberation, we’ve opted for a first come, first served claims structure. We really value being open and transparent with our participants, plus, we think this method can be really fun! When claims are live like this, it tends to be an event all by itself. We really encourage authors to socialize and cheer each other on, and we’ll be there too in between wrangling claims. @drowningbydegrees​ has been co-moderating events with this claims style for a number of years, and historically it’s gone very smoothly, with all fics claimed within the first twenty-four hours or so.

We’re committed to being really cognizant of the fact that timezones can create a challenge for this system, so we’re allowing proxies. A proxy is just someone who fills out an artist’s claims form on their behalf. There’s no extra step for this, and an artist can use a proxy for any reason. You can learn more about using a proxy in the claims tutorial here. If you need a proxy and can’t find one, we also want to make ourselves available to help! We’ll be recruiting volunteers to proxy for artists who need one and don’t have someone in mind already.

Our rules for artists around claims are also designed to help mitigate the drawbacks of a first come, first served model. In the first round of claims, each fic can only be claimed by one artist. After all fics are paired with an artist in the first round, there will be a second round for authors who opt into it. This means that authors can have multiple artists working on their fic, and that artists may get a second chance to claim a fic they’re interested in! We also allow artists to claim multiple fics across both rounds.

We hope this has given some context about claims. For a deeper dive into the claims process for artists, we’ve put together this tutorial. And of course, if you have any questions or if we can do anything to be a resource for you, feel free to message us here or reach out to us by email at geraskierbigbang@gmail.com.

Cheers, The Mods

[obscure-sentimentalist]

Because some interest was expressed...

Part 1: AO3 Tag At Large

Backstory in brief

I didn’t intend for this to get so detailed and comprehensive--honestly, it just started because I had a particular question and some free time to go digging for the answer. And I did get my answer, but in the process uncovered a wealth of other ways to expand my study. It’s been a ride (complete with a few anxieties thanks to some researcher part of my brain), but overall a fun one, and hopefully the resulting data-cronch will be intriguing.

As noted, this is the first part of a planned three-part data series. This installment will cover statistics for the contents of the Flommy AO3 tag as a whole, while the second part will zoom in a bit and break it down into smaller categories. The third will be a bonus post where the dataset will be narrowed to examine how it compares to the tag at large, which is how I began and previewed bits of my work before broadening the scope.

Below the cut, you’ll find a breakdown of the data collection and some information on the measures I examined, before we get into some stats. There are a number of charts included, as well as written overviews and additional facts. I’ll admit that it’s... a bit, even after being selective with the charts and data to highlight, but if you have questions (or are curious about any stats not included here), let me know and I’ll see what I can do.

Methodology

The overarching goal of my study was to examine and catalogue the contents specifically within the “Tommy Merlyn/Felicity Smoak” relationship tag on Archive of Our Own. All works featured in these results are tagged as (or otherwise wrangled under) this relationship tag; though it’s doubtful that this is the case, any works featuring this relationship that are not tagged in this way (and thus do not appear) will not be counted.

As of data collection on August 5th, 2020, there are 441 works (inclusive of hidden works viewable and accessible only with an AO3 login) within the Flommy tag. Aside from the individual work name and author, each entry was catalogued with the following additional variables:

Publish Year

Year in which work was initially published

Update Year

Year in which work was most recently updated

Rating

Author-assigned content rating (G, T, M, E, or Not Rated)

Work Length

Categorized as Oneshot (single chapter with an expected chapter count of 1) or Multichap (expected chapter count does not equal 1)

i.e. Works that only have a single published chapter but more are anticipated (so the chapter count reads as 1/?, 1/3, etc.) are categorized as Multichap

Completion Status

Works marked as Complete in the AO3 system are counted as such; all others are counted as Ongoing

Additional Relationships

Works may have Flommy as the only romantically-tagged (/) relationship, or additional ships; works in the latter category also had the other ships logged

Since this study was more quantitative and centered on AO3 tagging, more audience-based measures such as kudos, comment, and hit counts were omitted from the dataset. Also would like to remind that this is something I started because I was bored and curious, and I am just one person handling this data, so please keep this in mind in terms of data validity and human error.

Publish Year and Update Year

Breaking the data down by year was, oddly enough, an afterthought for me, but one I’m glad I did eventually think to add. This provided a glimpse at various trends in Flommy works over the years. 

The first two sets of charts will feature both Publish Year and Update Year, as there were a few interesting datapoints I found when comparing the two of them. Moving forward, though, yearly data will be shown in terms of Publish Year, unless noted otherwise. 

I pulled together this first graph to see if there were any major differences in either curve as the years went by, and overall, they share a similar shape--to be expected, given that a number of works published in one year may also have been last updated in that same year. Either way, both show a gradual increase in Flommy-tagged works until 2017, before plummeting in 2018 and continuing with a coasting decrease as of August 2020.

However, there’s an interesting shift over time between the two yearly measures: while there are (understandably) more works first published than last updated within the same year from 2013-2015, this becomes about equal between 2016 and 2017, before reversing in 2018-onwards. This goes to show that, while fewer Flommy works are being published these days, there are still some older works that are getting updated even now. People are sticking with Flommy, in some way or another.

Below is another way to compare these two measures, in terms of share of works:

The chart on the left (Publish Year) shows that the majority of Flommy-tagged works were published between 2013 and 2016--about 55%. However, the Update Year chart gives us an exact 50/50 split between the first four years of the tag and the last four, proving that the tag activity is still going strong!

Some other Publish and Update Year Fun Facts:

Because I’m too used to examining change year-over-year (YOY) for other purposes, I pulled some of those stats to accompany the line chart, focusing on Publish Year

The smallest change YOY was from 2016 to 2017, experiencing a 7% increase in published works; the largest was the 176% increase in 2014 over 2013

The decline in published works that began in 2018 has indeed slowed in 2020. 2018 had a -55% decrease YOY from 2017, and 2019 followed suit at -52%; 2020 is only down -21% from 2019, and that number can only improve as the year goes on!

12% more Flommy-tagged works have already been posted in 2020 than were posted in 2013, the first year of the tag. As the two years with the fewest works, that’s at least something!

Rating

There are more than a few ways I could break this one down, but I think this one covers the gist of this particular measure:

As might be expected, T is the most common rating, accounting for almost half of all works. The remaining ratings (aside from Not Rated) are all within a very close range of each other, but those in the E-rated category do have the edge to take second place, which, I’ll admit, also isn’t much of a surprise.

Some other Rating Fun Facts:

Took a look at some YOY changes in Rating:

E is the only rating that experiences two consecutive massive increases: 300% in 2014 over 2013, and then another 500% in 2015 over 2014

Actually, 66% of all E-rated Flommy-tagged fics were published between 2014 and 2016

...For a rating into which I rarely-if-ever personally venture, it certainly has a wealth of stats.

Work Length and Completion Status

Combining these two under one header, as they’re pretty tied-together and didn’t yield too many significant results. About 71% of all Flommy-tagged works are Oneshots, which assures that completed works will hold at least the same share within the Completion Status measure before factoring in Multichaps (which brings it up to about 81% complete). I instead put these measures against the others in the hopes of finding some interesting call-outs; after making up a few charts, there was really only one that I felt had a story to tell. 

Let’s take a look at the Work Length trend over the years:

While single-chapter works hold the significant majority share, their reign over multichapter works doesn’t fully begin until 2016. In 2013, the Oneshot count was less than half the Multichap count, and the following two years showed a less than 10 work-difference between the majority category and the other. And while the year is not yet complete, 2020 is currently tracking towards following a similar pattern to the early years of the tag.

Additional Relationships

This one is going to serve as our jumping-off point for Part 2, and get us into the motivating factor for my research. Here’s one chart to say it all:

...Yup, that’s less than a quarter of Flommy-tagged works that a) have Flommy as the sole romantically-tagged relationship, or b) have other romantic relationships tagged that are not Oliver/Felicity. 

That’s an answer in-and-of-itself, but my research question was two-fold: how else does this break down? How many works tagged for both pairings are compilations, such as oneshot prompt collections where the pairing varies by chapter; how many are OT3s; how many fall into a different category, whether a platonic pairing is improperly tagged or one pairing is the endgame or any other reason that doesn’t fit in any of the other categories?

We’ll get this breakdown--and a zoomed-in look at the measures covered in this installment--in Part 2, coming soon.