#its been too long since I last wrote fanfiction i really need to get back into it adfsg

[whaledenwtf]

Vegeta x Reader -

Hihi!! The last fanfiction I wrote was the Kratos x Reader. I love Vegeta, so I'm writing a fanfiction. This has also been cross-posted on AO3 here: Link Enjoy this Smut-fest.

Warnings: afab!reader and Male Smut, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Choking, Dom/Sub dynamic, Use of Pet names/Nicknames, Praise and Degradation, Oral (Male and Female Receiving), Fighting, Blood, etc. Porn with Plot, basically 

Vegeta is also a little OOC, especially after seggs, so warning for that too!

WORD COUNT: 6197 Words (Jesus Christ)

Hope you enjoy this story ~

It had been probably, the WORST week of your life. You got evicted because your landlord ended your lease - can landlords even do that? what a dick, you thought to yourself. That, plus the massive training block you've been experiencing AND the fact you had just ended the worst date have really made you crave a night of forgetting everything. You're so grateful for alcohol and Bulma. Both were incredible distractions and can help you forget everything.

"Thanks again for letting my stay here until I could get back up on my feet." You tell her after taking a sip of your rum and coke. She waves you off, lifting her feet up onto the couch, tucking them under herself and getting comfortable.

"(Y/N), I'm serious when I say you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like. You don't understand how much I need a friend in this house." You giggle.

"What do you mean?" Bulma groans, and takes a massive gulp of her vodka sprite.

"My parents... are my parents-" That, you could understand. They are a handful. "And Vegeta's always been a pain in my ass. Especially since I got back with Yamcha-" You almost spit out your drink.

"WHAT?!?!" You gasp out loud, before whispering, as if you were conspiring. "Since when? What happened to 'working things out' with Vegeta?" You were curious, as she went on and on... and on and on about fixing things with Vegeta for the sake of Trunks.

"I mean, there's definitely love for him as the father of my son. But that love can only get me so far. We understand that we aren't meant to last. Plus Yamcha has gotten better at communicating his feelings and his wants. He's definitely not the same person who cheated on me years ago." Bulma stated matter-of-factly. You furrow your brows.

"So why's Vegeta still live here?" Bulma takes a sip of her drink and ponders her response.

"Well... At the beginning it was because I would miss him too hard, and I couldn't imagine a world without him in it. Now, its partially because of Trunks, and partially because-" She leans in close, and whispers in your ear. "I feel bad for him. He really only has Trunks now..." She bites her lip as she moves back to her spot.

"He'll find someone. He's... very attractive and sets his mind to things and sticks to it. I mean, sure, his pride is his greatest weakness, but he definitely has more pros than cons, especially now." You always found Vegeta attractive, but that was a given. Both Saiyans (and Broly, when you think about it) are very attractive beings. You wonder if its Saiyan genetics that make such handsome men, or if it really is just pure luck.

"Ou~" Bulma purrs. "Want me to set you two up? I'm sure he wouldn't mind. He can already tolerate you and has complimented your strength-" Your eyes widen.

"What has he said?" You lean in, excited. Bulma smirks knowingly.

"Maybe this planet isn't doomed after all." She puts on her best Vegeta impression, which makes you giggle.

You spend the rest of the night chatting and getting drunk with Bulma, by the time you both head to bed, its almost 3 am. You stumble through the halls, bumping into different doors. You open your bedroom door, and walk to your bed. When you collapse, your eyes are closed and notice that your bed is warm... and hard?

"Woman! Is there a reason you're in my bedroom? It's 3 AM, some of us train around here." You snuggle deeper into the mass.

"S-ry 'Geta. M'drunk." You slur out, with zero environmental awareness.

"GO IN YOUR OWN ROOM!" He whisper yells, trying to push you off. You whine, cuddling your face into his neck and inhaling. He instantly freezes up, and you feel heat pool up his neck towards his face. Eyes still closed, you smile softly.

"Mmm... smell good." You lay your face directly on his pulse point, blissfully unaware of the speedy pitter-patter of the Saiyan's heart.

"Woman-" He whisper-yells. "Please get out of my room." His voice is pleading, and your mind seems to begin feeling guilt.

"Can't. Can't walk. 'M too drnk." You whisper into his neck sadly, sniffling as tears spring to your eyes. Your body was vulnerable, especially so under the effects of alcohol, and Vegeta feels concerned. On the one hand, he is uncomfortable with physical touch, but on the other, the way your breath hits his pulse point has brought his Saiyan instincts out, and he does not want to take advantage of one of the only women in his life who finds him tolerable- semi tolerable? he thinks to himself. He sighs.

"Lemme carry you then." You hum.

"Thank you, Princey." You leave a small peck on his neck. Insignificant to you, probably, but meant too much to Vegeta. From his limited understanding of Earthlings and their tolerance to alcohol, it lowered inhibitions, but also could bring out instincts. Do you trust him? That question unloads a can of worms in Vegeta's head, as he lifts you in a bridal carry and walks towards your room, which is a short walk from his door. Despite this, it feels like centuries. He watches your face as you slowly fall asleep to the rocking of his movement as he carries you. What if you DID trust him? Vegeta knows he is not a good man, perfectly shown through his relationship with Bulma, or lack of. He couldn't keep a woman, who, he would never admit, helped him through a lot and even gave him a son. A son he hasn't even taken care of much! Vegeta's brow furrows and he stops walking in the middle of the hallway, which stirs you from your light slumber.

"'Geta?" You ask him confused, still drunk. He looks into your eyes, and can't help but admire their colour.

"Almost there-" He whispers softly. You gaze at his face, before reaching a hand to his forehead. The soft touch to his face makes his eyes widen.

"You should smile more. You're handsome when you do." You whisper, before your hand falls from his forehead, and lingers on his cheek, holding him softly. Vegeta's brow unfurrows, as he watches you. He then walks you to your room, and prepares to leave you at the door.

"Tha-nk y-ouuu 'Geta." He helps you out of his arms so you could land on your legs, though you did so a little unstable. You kiss his cheek quickly, and giggle before opening and closing the door behind you. Vegeta is stunned in place, holding the cheek you kissed as a raging blush flushes his entire body.

"Ugh, my head." You groan as you walk into the kitchen, where Vegeta and Bulma are bickering.

"Yeah I'm in pain too. Wish I could use a Senzu bean-" Bulma jokes, but Vegeta cuts her off.

"What a stupid use of a Senzu bean. You'd be wasting it to get through something ridiculous." He bites at her, and she rolls her eyes.

"Normally, I'd fight you, but I'm in too much pain and care too little about your opinion." You wince, and can tell those words hurt Vegeta a little, no matter how much he hides it.

"Woah Bulma, 'ts a little much. Let's all just have coffee, breakfast, and then we'll all feel better." You speak up as you walk past Vegeta, brushing his shoulder with your hand as a sign of respect, and defense. Vegeta looks at you with an eyebrow raised, and you raise one side of your lip slightly, smirking at him. You loved Bulma, but sometimes she says things she regrets, especially when hungover. She groans.

"Coffee sounds great." You giggle, as you make coffee for you three. You pass everyone a mug, and take a sip and sigh into the warm mug.

"I'll make us breakfast. What do you want, Vegeta?" You ask, looking at him over the rim of the mug. Bulma raises a brow.

"Why are you asking him?" You hum looking at her.

"Cause he's gonna be eating the most portions. I'm already making eggs and bacon, but he'll probably want something else, right 'Geta?" Your eyes switch from Bulma to Vegeta, and you can see the tips of his ears blushing, before he crosses his arms and turns to look away from you.

"Tch. Make me three steaks on the side, woman!" You roll your eyes at Bulma, who chuckles.

"All right, your highness. I'll make them rare and also feed them to you?" He smirks at that.

"Finally, someone who can understand the worth of a Prince-" Bulma rolls her eyes.

"Being the prince of 3 people is like calling me the queen of nothing." Vegeta's head snaps to her, and he growls.

"What a fitting title for someone who brings nothing to my life-" Bulma's eyebrows raise, and so do yours.

"Okay Vegeta, let's calm down~" You hold his shoulder, and rub it, eyes widening as you can see his hair flicker between blonde and brunette quickly.

"Tch. She's insufferable!" He cries out, effectively calming himself down.

"You're BOTH insufferable, actually. Both of you need to fucking relax." You tried not to swear often, but they were annoying you. Both of them shut up, eyes wide.

"I'm gonna finish cooking, we are going to eat calmly and quietly, and then I can go train for a bit before I-" You're taking the bacon out of the oven when your phone rings, and Vegeta grabs it for you.

"Who's calling?" You ask him as you grab the device from his thick hand.

"Tinder James? What kind of a first name is Tinder?" Vegeta raises a brow and you cough, eyes wide.

"He's calling you back?! PUT HIM ON SPEAKER." Bulma shouts, excited. You roll your eyes, but answer and put him on speaker while you cook.

"(Y/N) here." You respond.

"Hey sweetheart. Sorry I had to cut our date short yesterday, you know how it is haha-" You roll your eyes as Bulma mimics the movement of vomiting. Vegeta stays silent, watching your face. You had a date yesterday? He's upset at this information, but would never tell you that.

"Its fine-" You start to respond. "I mean, if you wanna continue the date tonight I'm game." He cuts you off.

"Continue... our date?" You ask confused.

"Yeah? I didn't hit so I thought you'd want me to hit it-" Both you and Bulma actually guffaw at that.

"Something funny?" He asks confused.

"Listen here, sweetheart-" You start sarcastically "You weren't gonna hit. You spent the whole date checking your phone and texting. I'm not stupid and I'm not someone who you can push around. We aren't gonna fuck, so stick your dick elsewhere. Oh! And delete my number." You hang up before blocking the number, turning to grin at Bulma. She laughs and high-fives you after you turn off the stove-top, eggs ready. You pile the eggs and bacon onto plates and get going on the steaks while handing the plates of food to Bulma and Vegeta. They start eating, and by the time you finish the steaks, Vegeta has finished his portions.

"Here you go." You hand the pile of steaks to him, and eat your meal. He doesn't touch his food, and looks at you expectantly. He harrumphs to get your attention.

"Yes?" He raises a brow.

"Why aren't you feeding me?" You laugh in his face. You pick up a piece of bacon from your plate before shoving it in his mouth. He choke on it, eyes wide looking at you.

"Eat your damn steaks." You tell him as you shovel eggs into your mouth and wink at him. Bulma laughs at him, as she picks up the empty plates and puts them in the dishwasher. Vegeta stays quiet and starts to eat his steaks, but you can see that his hairline is flickering blonde, but he wears a small smirk on his face.

The next couple days you don't see Vegeta at all. Normally, it wouldn't affect you, but you felt... saddened by the lack of his presence.

You are walking past the Gravity Chamber when you hear a massive explosion, and shouting. You sprint towards the Chamber, worried.

"Stupid Earthlings and their stupid creations!" You smirk at the angry Saiyan, who is hugging a robot, his hair a dark blue.

"Cute look, Vegeta. Is she your new girlfriend?" You tease, smirking at him. He turns to looks at you, and the tips of his ears turn pink.

"Woman! How dare you joke about the Saiyan Prince and his taste in women?" He grumbles loudly, walking closer to you. His hair goes back to brunette, and you can't help but admire his handsome looks.

"It's okay Vegeta. I won't tell Bulma~" You say in a sing-song voice, winking at him. He drops the robot before crushing it with his feet. You raise an eyebrow and smirk at him.

"These ridiculous jokes must end! Where is the respect for royalty? An understanding of- of greatness?" He asks you, getting closer. You look up at him, and bite your lip.

"I apologize for my humour, my prince-" You tell him, as you curtesy. "I'll make sure to only sing my praises of your existence, your majesty." The tips of his ears are deepening into a dark blush, and his cheeks are also discolouring.

"That's more like it, woman! Though, Saiyans always greeted me on one knee-" you cut him off, grinning.

"You want to see me on my knees? Dirty prince." His whole face turns red, and you can feel his Ki rise significantly.

"Y-you vile woman! Such tactless behaviour- such a dishonourable sneak attack!" He stutters angrily, his eyes becoming a beautiful teal and his hair a vibrant blonde, once again. You giggle before rubbing his chest to calm him down.

"I'm only kidding 'Geets-" he grumbles looking away from you, face still flushed. He snaps out of Super Saiyan, and his blush lowers significantly. "Hey, wait a minute! Why don't we train together?" His head snaps back at you, intrigued.

"Why should I train with you?" He asks unkindly. You roll your eyes at his attitude.

"Well, for starters, your little playroom is broken-" his eyebrows furrow and he is reminded of his loss. "Secondly, I've had the worst training block in my life. I can't do anything right and having someone like you train with me will surely help!" He ponders this for a moment.

"Fine. But only because, as you put it, "my playroom is broken"." You smile at him, and grab his wrist to drag him to an open field far away from Bulma's ire.

"Tch. We could've flown here." He crosses his arms, raising a brow.

"Yeah, but sometimes walking through nature helps clear the mind, and prepares me for a battle." You say, as you roll your shoulder and stretch your body.

"C'mon Vegeta, I know you've said that I am a competent fighter-" Vegeta cuts you off angrily.

"Does that putrid woman share all my secrets?!" He goes back into Super Saiyan, getting into fighting position. You giggle as you also stance up.

"She's being harmless, 'Geta." He comes towards you first, fist almost breaking through your block.

"Jesus Vegeta. You need to slow down so the rest of us can catch up!" You huff out, faces close together. You blush as your eyes wander to his lips.

"I will never "slow down" so that a mere Earthling can catch up to the Prince of all Saiyans-" You punch his gut as he speaks, and he barely reacts to it, eyes widening. You aim a kick to his ribs, but he quickly grabs your calf, and spins you. You use your other foot to kick his sternum, and fly up in the air. You dodge and hit eachother, nothing that would really need a Senzu. Then you decide to up the stakes.

"I've been practicing this technique- CATASTROPHIC CANON-" [note: idk man im trying] A massive ball of red-hued Ki shoots towards Vegeta. In his mind, the move sounded idiotic, so surely he could handle its power. The ball then splits into three and hits him from all angles. He's never seen a move that did that! He was impressed, but it could be stronger.

"That was cute, woman! Let me show you a real show stopper- GALICK GUN!" You tried to dodge, but it was too late. Like a meteor, you crash into the ground under you, creating a crater around your body. Vegeta's eyes widen as he flies towards you, worried.

"Woman!" When you don't answer, he walks closer, concerned.

"Woman?-" Your eyes were closed, but your chest was still moving. "Y/N?" He's right next to you now. You grab his ankle, and flip him so you land on top of him. You sit on his lap, and hold his arms up over his head, panting loudly. Blood is dripping down a gash from your forehead, and he can't help but find you to be the most beautiful being he's ever seen.

"I-" You inhale. "Win-" exhale, looking deep into his eyes. He tries to break out of your hold, but you grip his wrists tightly, and he flinches.

"That was dirty!" Vegeta protests, blushing. You get closer to him, your breathes mingling.

"I'll make sure to play nicely next time, Prince Vegeta-" His lips catch yours in ah instant. Your lips mold to his perfectly, and the small moan you let out is not unnoticed by the Saiyan. Your grip on his wrists loosened, and he takes advantage of your vulnerability to flip you under him. Your thighs wrap around his small waist, and you pull him closer to you, grinding up to him.

Your open your mouth and you begin another battle. His tongue and yours lash against eachother, and you further explore his mouth, tracing your tongue over his teeth. Your tongue caresses over his canines, which were sharper because of his Alien heritage. You puncture yourself on them, and he moans out when a drop of your blood lands on his tongue. You pull away to look him, eyes wide.

"Please-p-please Vegeta." You whimper. He looks at you, panting slowly.

"Call me by my real title, sweetheart." You moan, pushing forward to kiss his neck. You lick up and down his pulse point. He moans into your hair, and you feel a rush of slick leave your body. He sniffs the air around you before groaning.

"I can smell you sweetheart-" You whimper into him, before licking up to the shell of his ear.

"Please Prince Vegeta. Please touch me." He pulls you up off the ground, still grinding into you softly.

"As you wish, princess-" He shoots off the ground, flying quickly back to Capsule Corp to continue what you had both started. As he flies through the skies, you continue to lick and kiss his neck, before biting down on junction between his neck and shoulder. He growls in your ear before pulling away to look into your eyes.

"Do that one more time and I'll make sure you can't ever walk again." His focus goes from one eye to the other, and you can't help the surge of need that flows through you from his attentiveness.

"That better be a promise, my prince-" Before you could end your sentence, he's already landed on his balcony, and has slammed the door open with his foot. He kicks the door shut behind him and lays you on the bed. He watches you for a moment, as you wriggle to lean on your elbows and look up at him.

"Why are you staring at me?" You ask curiously, a blush forming on the apples of your cheeks. He bites the fingertip of one of his gloves, pulling it off, before mirroring the action for his other hand.

"You remind me of the women from my planet-" You roll your eyes at him.

"Usually during sex, you don't tell the person you're about to sleep with they remind you of someone else." He barks a laugh at that, trailing his hands near your ankles, pulling off your shoes and working his way up your legs, caressing the muscles there.

"You're strong- physically and mentally. You're talented in many trades, multi-faceted. Powerful-" he begins to kiss his way up your torso, his warmth bleeding through your clothing. "Intelligent. Beautiful. Alluring. You have an air around you-" He cuts himself off then, having kissed his way up to your face and stopping.

"You possess much more than any of the women of this planet. You call to me in ways the people of my planet never did. You're much more than the sum of all these things together. I've always thought this." He murmurs as he looks into your eyes. He sees your eyes shine before you speak up.

"I've always admired your strength-" You begin to say as you caress his arms, before pulling his calloused hands towards your lips and kissing each fingertip, each scratch and mark that makes him, Vegeta. "You're much more than your physical prowess Vegeta. You're mental fortitude, after everything you've been through- continue to go through-" You exhale loudly. You hold his face in your hands.

"You are the ultimate warrior. You always compare yourself to Goku but in my eyes you will always be more than he is." You thought you saw his eyes water, but he burrows his face into your neck before taking a deep breathe.

"Princess, I need you. I've wanted to conquer this body like the thousands of planets I've conquered in the name of the Saiyan Army. I want to watch you quiver underneath me as I take everything you have to offer- and much more." He growls out, showing his teeth. You whimper, once again getting wet at his words. He plays you like an instrument- and he's the maestro. You quickly pull off your clothing until you are naked under him. He admires your body quietly, before looking into your eyes.

"Fuck me Vegeta. Breed me like I'm yours." He bites his lip looking at you.

"You already are mine. I'll make sure to mold your body to mine, woman-" You bite down on his neck, as a form of chastising him.

"Don't call me woman-" You warn him softly. He groans in your ear and his hands roam your curves. His fingers find the peaks of each breast, twisting and rubbing with the pads of his fingers. Your hands wander across the planes of his body that are still covered by his blue training gear.

"What should I call you, Y/N?" He asks you softly, before taking your right nipple in his mouth.

"F-Fuck Vegeta. Please call me yours, call m-me princess~" He groans at your words, his arousal showing through his clothes. "Show everyone who I belong to-" You never felt so dirty in your life; pleading for a man to call you his, never in your life could you imagine the submissive turn this took. You want to take control back, so you flip yourself back on top. He looks up at you, biting his lip.

"Such a good princess for me. Pleasing your Prince like a good girl~" You growl at that, grinding down hard into the clear outline of his heavy cock. You begin to tug on the collar of his training gear.

"I'm gonna rip this off of you and ride you. I wanna be a good girl for my Prince." He smirks at that, before his eyes widen at the ripping sound his gear makes. You pull the tattered fabric off his body, nails lightly scraping the surface of his skin.

"So handsome, and strong. Perfect for protecting me~" You whisper in a sing sing voice, before kissing down his body. You start from his lips and work your way down. You can tell your bites and hickeys are already mostly healed, so you leave a couple more before kissing his pecs and lavishing his nipples in attention. He covers his mouth to muffle a moan, as he squeezes his eyes shut.

"Don't shy away from me now Vegeta. Let me hear you." You tell him, pulling his arm away. He pants at you, eyes wide.

"T-these damn sneak attacks!" You grin at his words.

"I'll show you a sneak attack-" You begin the sentence, before gripping his cock in your hand. Its girth is unimaginable, your hand barely closing around it. His length is above average, and you could already tell you would spend many days worshiping his cock if you could.

You slowly thrust your fist up and down his length, watching how his cock pulsed under your hand. You could tell there was something peculiar about it, like the small ridges near the head and the particularly thick vein on the underside. Your other hand goes to his balls, which seemed to have already been straining for attention.

He whimpers as you touch him, but swears as soon as your tongue touches his slit.

"Fuck~ just like that princess-" You moan around his cock, taking the head into your mouth and giving it small sucks and kitten licks.

"Such a good little Earth whore for her Saiyan Prince- f-fuck. Can't wait to fill you with my royal seed." You didn't realize Vegeta was so vocal during sex. You pull your mouth off him and sit on your haunches, slowly stroking your up and down his cock.

"W-why'd you stop?" He asks angrily, hair flicking to blonde for a moment. You hover over his body, before grinning.

"Let's put that mouth to good use-" You sit on his face looking down at him. You hear him inhale through his nose deeply, before he looks up at you, lust prominent in his eyes. You bite your lip before tugging on his hair, and in a moment his fingers latch onto your thighs, and his tongue takes a wide lick up your slit. You look into his eyes to see him staring at your face. His tongue continues to take wide licks, before it enters inside your pussy. He licks up the juice that leaks out of you, groaning under you. You moan out his name as he does so, and hear him muttering under you.

"Taste so good for your Prince. Such a good girl-" You moan out loud, before you have to use your left hand to hold yourself up. You stretch your right arm behind you, and grip his cock, before giving him a sloppy handjob. He grunts under you, before unhooking his left hand from your thighs and spreading you open. You caterwaul when his tongue finds your clit, swirling and giving it attention while he lets his thick middle finger stretch you out by entering in and out of you slowly.

"F-Fuck Vegeta." You knew you were being too loud, and were worried about an audience outside the door.

"That's right princess. Tell everyone who this pussy belongs too." The slurping noise he makes is whorish, and your mind instantly clears of all thought.

"Fuck-fuck-FUCK!" You begin to grind on his face, slick leaving you in waves.

"That's right Y/N. Tell me what you want-" He enters a second finger inside of you, the stretch delicious.

"Want to cum- need to cum so badly Vegeta! Please please please-" You beg him, your hand and body moving in tandem with one another.

"Gonna make this pretty pussy cum all over my tongue-" He mutters, grinning. You look down and see the predatory look in his eyes.

"Please Daddy- please let me cum~" You're just blabbing random words, brain short circuiting at the intense pleasure between the apex of your thighs.

"Daddy?" He grunts at that.

"Want me to be your daddy?" You don't answer him right away, but he gets a response out of you when he takes his mouth away from your pussy and bites down on the side of your thigh, canines breaking skin. You groan in pain, the pleasure being elevated by his roughness.

"Answer me princess." He demands, fingers still entering and exiting your body languidly.

"Y-yes Vegeta. Be my Daddy, my Prince. F-fuck. Just let me cum!" You beg him, tears in your eyes at the edging Vegeta put you through.

"What a good girl. Such a good girl for daddy-" His lips latch onto your little pearl, sucking and licking, with his canines bumping into the sensitive bundle of nerves. The attention serves to be too much, and your sight goes white. You cum on his face, but more than that you squirt a little. He continues to suck on your pussy, the twitching and wailing from the body above him not stopping his actions.

He licks up your mess, enjoying that all his senses are surrounded by you. When your body goes lax he releases you, laying you under him to continue his caressing and kissing on your body. He pays particular attention to the junction of your neck, where he leaves a deep bite. The bite snaps you out of your euphoric ride, eyes widened at the sudden pain. You must've made too much noise, because Vegeta covers your mouth with his hand, as he licks up the mark. You can already feel the skin begin to mend itself, as his Saiyan saliva speeds the healing process. His hand releases your mouth when you're no longer whimpering in pain.

"Now everyone will know who you belong to-" He grunts at you, his hands caressing your torso and the undersides of your breasts. You look into his eyes, panting at his attention.

"Fuck me." You tell him, touching him on his forearm. He grins at you, sharp canines stained with your blood.

"Excuse me?" He asks you, acting galled at your words. Without answering him, you push him to sit on his haunches between your thighs. As you do so, his eyes wander your body, his tongue reaching out between the seam of his lips to lick them. Your hand trails down your body, and as you begin to pant with need, you spread your pussy open, and his eyes widen at the sight of your slick leaking out.

"Fuck me, Saiyan." Your voice was authoritative, and without warning, Vegeta growls and pulls your thighs closer to him.

"With pleasure, princess." He pushes your legs all the way down, your knees bumping into your shoulders. You grab your legs by the backs of your knees, and he takes his cock in his hand and strokes your pussy. When his tip would bump into your clit you'd moan loudly and he'd chuckle at you, breathless.

"Look at you; your crumbling resolve left you cock hungry for the Prince of all Saiyans." He begins to push himself into you, the stretch of his cock nothing like the stretch from his fingers. You find yourself flinching at the intrusion, and Vegeta notices. He pushes himself all the way in slowly, before putting you both into a mating press. Your nipples were sensitive dragging against his chest. He looks into your eyes and whispers.

"You're doing great, sweetheart. Such a good princess for daddy-" His hand snakes between your bodies, and begins to rub your clit as he begins to move. The minor pain from the girth of him begins to ebb away, and pleasure begins to take its place.

"F-fuck Vegeta. So b-big." He chuckles, before groaning.

"Princess. You're so fucking tight. Gonna fuck this pussy good. 'N make you squirt again." He mumbles out, words slurred by the feeling of your pussy squeezing him. You whimper at his words, beginning to grind into his cock as he moves.

"H-harder Daddy. Fuck me good. P-Please-" You beg, almost weeping with tears running down your cheeks. . He wipes your tears before using both hands to brace himself onto the bed.

"Anything for you." He says passionately. It struck a cord in you, the sincerity of his words making you gaze at him with love. The intensity of your coupling is one you've never experienced, and your body and soul feel overstimulated by everything Vegeta. His thrusts are strong, and your legs slip out of your hold as you grip the bedsheets under you, needing something to ground yourself.

Your legs wrap around his hips, and the heel of your foot bumps into the patch of fur at the small of his waist where his tail used to be. He moans out, his voice loud. You notice him blushing as he looks into your eyes. His thrusts go harder, and he grabs both your hands to lock his fingers with yours.

"Just like that princess- fuck." He grunts. You reach up to lock your lips together. Your bodies have become one at this point, with a feeling of oneness you had never felt in your life. You begin to purposefully rub the heel of your foot into the patch of fur, as you near your release. After a couple strokes of your foot, he shouts into your mouth, cumming into your pussy.

The twitching of his cock triggers your release, and you cum around his cock. You stay together for a moment, tongues languidly rubbing against eachother. He pulls away softly, panting. He begins to pull himself up, to watch where you are both connected. He groans again.

"Look at you princess. Creamed around my cock. Such a messy girl-" Your pussy twitches and he bites his lip. His eyes flicker teal for a moment.

"Don't tempt me to ravage you again, (Y/N)." You grin at him, acting coy.

"Sorry my Prince." He smiles softly at you, pushing hair away from your face. He then pulls out, and you whimper at the feeling of cum leaking out of you. He pushes his fingers into you, scooping up his seed and filling you back up.

"None of my seed should go to waste. You're the perfect mate." He growls possessively.

"Is that so?" You ask him. He nods. After a couple minutes of silence, he pulls his fingers out slowly, and you moan softly. He chuckles at the sound, before going into his bathroom. He closes the door for two minutes. You sigh, turning yourself so your laying on your side, leaning your head on your hand. You watch the door, eyebrows jumping when you hear a bang and a muffled "shit" through the door. Not a moment later, Vegeta leaves the bathroom with boxers on and a damp hand towel in his grip. He comes towards you, and slowly pulls you into his lap.

"What's all this?" You ask him softly, voice hardly louder than a whisper.

"After a Saiyan mating bite, the male is supposed to take care of the female. I'm going to clean you up and take care of you." His voice has mellowed out, with a softness which you haven't ever heard from Vegeta.

"Mating bite?" You ask curiously. Vegeta slowly wipes your neck, before moving to the apex of your thighs, cleaning your combines releases from you.

"Saiyans don't normally mate for life, but when we do we bite each other. Some scars, like mating bites, don't heal and we use them as markers of possession. Its to make sure female Saiyans don't get taken advantage of. It also helps mix our scents." You hum softly, eyes fluttering closed at his gentle strokes on your weak body.

"So I am yours?" You ask gently. He hums, before his other hand goes to stroke your hair.

"For life." Your eyes widen as you look at him. He looks nervously at your face. You pout and huff angrily. He flinches at your anger, and before he could apologize you cut him off.

"Well that's not fair. How am I supposed to mark you back?" His eyes widen.

"You're.. not upset at me?" You smile up at him, taking his cheek in your hand and rubbing it with your thumb.

"Out of all the people on this planet I'm the only one who can handle you most of the time. If that isn't an admission of love I really can't think of one-" You get pulled into a hug, and you hear him sigh sadly. You rub his back up and down.

"Listen Vegeta, I meant those words I said before. I really do admire you, and I do want to stick by your side. I mean, a warning would have been nice-" You say jokingly. He huffs a laugh. "But I really love being with you." You pull him away from you, and you see a small tear in his eye. You pull him forward and kiss his forehead.

"But never call me woman again!" You tell him warningly. He laughs out loud at that, and smiles widely.

"Alright, princess." You both lay back down, cuddling and spending the rest of your day in bed, ignoring the outside world.

END

---

BONUS:

"Vegeta isn't answering his phone-" Goku says worryingly to Bulma, who he bumped into while looking for the missing Saiyan.

"Yeah, he was busy." Bulma answers, before a full body shiver goes through her. Goku looks at her worried.

"Are you sick Bulma? And Vegeta knows we are training today-" Bulma snaps her fingers in his face.

"Goku, he's with (Y/N)." Goku looks at her confused.

"Are they training?" He asks innocently.

"Horizontally." Bulma says chuckling, before walking away. Goku looks down and thinks.

"Is that a better way to train?" He asks himself.

[alpydk]

2024 Writing Year in Review

So I got tagged by @graysparrowao3 and then completely forgot because brain. But thank you!

I guess it still counts as 2024 as I'm still on holiday? Going to tag @auroraesmeraldarose and @judasiskariot and open tag anyone else.

Words posted (on AO3, not including Tumblr posts): 271,831

Words unposted: The first chapter of the isekai fic, the start of the Gale solo act smut fic. There's about 6k words there.

Total word count: No idea. Just none. Almost all the Tumblr stuff is on Ao3. Need to update my masterlist at some point...

Fandoms: BG3 - Gale, Rugan, smattering of others too in there. House MD - Chase comfort and a singular angst fic. And I am currently the sole writer for Last Days of the Space Age as well.

Highest Kudos: Cabinet of Oddities - The Nana story. 56k words, the first real fic I ever wrote and closest to my heart.

Highest One-Shot Hits: Technically its Consequences and Confessions. Does that count as a one shot? It's only 8k of smut.

New things I tried: All of it. All of it was new. Writing fanfiction in itself. Never written smut, never read it actually either. Never write about characters or worlds, or researched or anything. The entire thing was a whole new world for me.

I'm going to also include being more open with folks as well under this. Being a bit more me and not what's expected of me. That's gone down mostly well.

Fic I spent the most time on: CoO is the longest but I also had so much of it prepared from my D&D campaign and from BG3. Otherwise probably Red on You. I spent a lot of time looking at the layout of Waterdeep and planning routes, and plot points. My notepad is a mess. I'm still not satisfied with the final chapter and really want to go back and add the 4k of words to make it complete.

Fic I spent the least time on: I do a lot of short fics so maybe they don't count but the 515 words of Where is that Child now? Most was typed on my phone as I watched something on TV then got a quick edit before going up.

Favourite thing I wrote: Tattered Souls or Blue Seas - The first allowed me to really embrace fanfiction. Doing what I like with characters I love and just including all the tropes and insanity that I love from movies. It was honestly just fun. The latter is my love letter to Chase. Written for Judas when she needed it. All the inside jokes and songs, all the fluff and comfort we want. It's 20 years in the making.

Favourite fics I read this year: Strange Highways by @nocryptographer is right up there. Since Chapter 1 I've been in love with the idea of Cazador in a rock band in the 80s.

A Firm Hand by @viennacherries - Rolan spanking. Need I say more?

Midwinter in Waterdeep by @weaveandwood - Hurt and comfort. It's so beautifully written.

My Tulpa by @senualothbrok - Too relatable, too heartbreaking. But perfect.

Stars of Simril by @sorceresssundries - Homesickness provoker 9000 - Bring tissues to cry with.

From @auroraesmeraldarose - this beautiful gift - Gale and Tav fuck under the moonlight after skinny dipping. She got it just so fucking right with the softness and I need to go read it again.

Trick or Doctor Chase by @judasiskariot - My own Halloween Chase comfort! With amazing characterisation and House and a crocodile!

There are so many more as well that I've linked throughout the year too and I'm sorry if I've not added some. It's simply otherwise this will go on for ever with recommendations. Here are my bookmarks for you to look. A little of everything there (including weird shit)

Writing goals for 2025: - Work writing into being busy full time again. - Get through the smut blockage yet again and hopefully permanently - Write more for Last Days of the Space Age

New works for 2025: The Gale/Rugan Smut I promised and their wedding. Ongoing Thomas fic. More Chase stuff. Need to get back to poetry.

Anyways, I've waffled on long enough now. It's been one hell of a year and hopefully there are a lot more to come.

[01always14fanfic]

Thank you for your contribution to the bottom!harvey (omega, sub!harvey) agenda in suits fandom, i know about suits around 10 years ago but could not get into it because i'm an old man fucker but this fandom love dom, top!harvey so much to the point it takes up 99% of fanfic so i can't really indulge myself in it, although the fandom still likes top!harvey a lot but at least there is someone who actively write bottom!harvey, hopes you get whatever you want in your life, your pillow is cold on both sides and ao3 will work properly on your phone again <333 also I noticed your writing did improve a lot since your first suits fanfic tho, especially marvey "bedroom intimate scene" idk how to explain but you wrote it more details, more lewdly than your first fic.

I need some new bottom!Harvey fics to read!

Little side piece, I basically boycotted the last season of Suits for a while. I felt like Louis was one of the only people who stayed true to their characters the entire time. I hated how much Donna and Harvey changed (I have an essay about that honestly). Not Donna's job either, but her personality. Her and Harvey went from having all the chemistry in the world, to cheesey and awkward. I finally finished it out. The last episode was the only episode that entire season that everyone acted normal. Harvey could have and would have ended Faye in two maybe three episodes in any other season.

But that entire season is where you see how much Harvey wants to count on Mike and Donna. He doesn't need to, he wants to. In the previous seasons, seeing Harvey's panic attacks with separation was deep. They had been building for a long time too, we have seen a lot of moments of Harvey's armor chipping away.

Harvey looking to Donna and Mike to make him whole again. He wants Donna's advice, he wants Mike to save him, which is the only consistency Harvey had. Harvey wants the world to see him as strong and unbeatable, but not Donna and Mike. He doesn't know to process his emotions well, Mike and Donna do. To me, Harvey always needed a dominant it was just between Mike and Donna.

Mike in the beginning was too green in Harvey’s world. After a few years, their banter changed. You see Harvey letting up on the rookie jokes, the good boy jokes, and overall just trying to show his dominance with Mike. They became equals eventually.

Donna in the beginning was too insecure about mixing work and personal. She didn't want to take the risk and make that full commitment, she knew if she wanted to, Harvey would have tried. The kiss while he was with like the therapist was the definition of self sabotage.

Mike and Donna did everything and anything Harvey needed them to do, but they also yanked him back when he went too far. Jessica tried to do that, but most of the time it created more rebellion.

I personally think Harvey needs a dominant, but he can't feel 'owned'. It's fine balance. Lol.

Thank you telling me there's improvement in my writing, honestly its because of the support I get from readers. I kept practicing so I could deliver good material, I hope I keep getting better. That's why I write fanfiction, I want to publish someday, but I need to work on my everything.

..Like eventually I have to write an ending. No story goes on forever. Mine do apparently.

[salubriwrites-blog]

A Weird Dive into my favorite ships

This started as an answer to an anonymous question but... it grew a little bit. I have no forward except to please drink water today! Love you!!!!

I'm actually pretty new still to writing fanfiction. I've been an avid writer since I was 10 and was even working on getting my own book published. From there I springboarded into TTRPG design where I wrote world building, lore, and characters for IPs like Call of Cthulhu and Vampire: The Masquerade. I only really just got into writing *fan fiction* in the last 2 years.

My first fanfic/ship was actually pretty silly. I was on the Encanto hype train when that movie first came out (can you believe its been 3 years???) and I loved, loved, loved Bruno Madrigal. He was the traumatized, distraught uncle living in the walls of Casita trying to fix the internal damage that came from Abuela's treatment of La Familia. His intentions were pure, and he obviously had gone through a lot to drive him to the point where we see him in the story. This was the first branch I would hit falling down the "I can fix them" tree.

The story is cute and has a happy ending, but as we all know in the real world, unlearning toxic behavior and overcoming life long trauma takes time. So I wrote a BrunoxOC story about it. I ended up orphaning it because I veered the story off in a direction I didn't like because the group I was part of were heavily influencing my creative choices. Boo, hiss I know, but I was still pretty new within the fanfiction genre so I buckled.

Moving on!

My second fiction that I put a lot more love into - sorta I may go back and rewrite parts of it now - was my YorickxOC fiction.

Yorick was my first ever League of Legends love. Fucking love that haunted beef cake. The Ruined Event did him dirty, the Ruined King Game did him dirty, and the book probably did him dirty too (I haven't read it). My Gravekeeper needs ALL THE LOVE because he is absolutely going through it in sheer solitude (though the Illaoi story where he goes to help destroy Viego's amulet gave me hope that now he gets visitors sometime on the island).

Remember Yorick Mori: Before the Ruination This was my first completed and quite hefty fiction weighing in at 153k words: it followed his story where he starts out on a lonely little fishing island called Portia (it doesn't have a name in Lore). He ends up on a slightly busier island that is situated off the coast of Helia (Blessed Isles capitol) and begins his journey to understand why he can communicate with the Dead. He meets a cast of charming monks that want to both see him thrive and maintain status quo. He even meets the owner of the bakery that barters with the Order of Dusk - whom he naturally falls in love with immediately. Rosalie McKahn is not a self insert. I don't make self inserts when I write OCs because I hold myself to a weird standard - also I don't see myself being compatible with most of these characters. Would I still like them to do unspeakable things to me? Oh shit yes. But from a story standpoint, I don't do self inserts. So Rosalie was not one of those. The story follows a young Yorick through his years of servitude to the Order of Dusk, uncovering dark secrets, finding confidence to become the man that he will need to be when the Ruination comes. Rosalie was not the only person who helped to build Yorick up in this story, but their love is what gives him the strength to keep fighting when the rest of it was bleak. This love eventually passes on to the Maiden of the Mist in the epilogue I have yet to write ^^;.

Then we got into the Heartsteel arc, and this was where I really found my love for the "I can fix them" dynamics. I have no shame in saying that I wrote all of "Making of Paranoia: Off Script" in a week's time while the music video played on a loop on my second monitor. I'm just not. That was where the neurons wanted me to go, and off I fucking went. I knew I liked Aphelios when he first debuted in League, but I was scared of him because he's an ADC with 5 guns. Skill Expression was not something I was confident enough in to pursue that character. But he was hot! He ha a backstory that excited me and had a lot of potential. I really wanted to explore Aphelios' dynamic with his sister and the Lunari elders - pigeon holing him into being a weapon of faith only.

I also knew I liked Yone, but was fearful of him for similar reasons. In the end I just nutted up, typed /mute all in game chat, and hit my head against the wall until I got M7 on Yone. His story is by far my favorite of all the League characters (rivaling Yorick's, of course). A man who spent his whole, short life trying to save someone who he thought was in danger of falling off the path of virtue? Only to come back and KEEP DOING IT but with extra steps??? WAITER ANOTHER PLEASE.

But I didn't really anticipate putting these two characters together within the canon sense. I didn't see a way that they could meet (though one of my friends has since written a beautiful fiction where it shows how they do meet, and how they do connect! https://archiveofourown.org/works/52384363/chapters/132517315 )

BUT THEN. BUT THEEEEN.

I was watching Paranoia for the 69th time that day and I saw THIS VERY SPECIFIC CLIP where the only person who looked the most remote bit of concern for Aphelios' well being was YONE. Boom, Off Script was born.

Off Script was definitely the first FanFiction where I really jumped into my current dynamic. It follows after the filming of that day, cut short after Aphelios fell into a water tank with one of the drones. Yone is going to check on him, and Aphelios is lamenting that no one else has come to see if he's alright. Not even his boyfriend, Sett.

This infuriates Yone because that's just not good boyfriend behavior, and he promises Aphelios that - should he be given the chance - Yone would treat him 10x better than Sett has, is, or ever will.

Also who wouldn't want to be treated like a princess by this specimen? Let's not fool ourselves. Anyway - Paranoia gave me a chance to explore this dynamic in a new way. Yone had issues of his own - I had to find a way to implement his Arzakana nature into a modern AU so I opted for "intrusive thoughts" that encouraged him to do some generally not nice things. In Yone's backstory he was a toxic person, used people up, whored his way through most of his opportunities, and was a bad brother to Yasuo. Yone initially followed Yasuo into the music making industry because he wanted to help his baby brother succeed - and he didn't really know what he wanted to do with his own life. Yone then got it into his head that maybe he and his brother could make music TOGETHER. Yasuo didn't want that because True Damage was doing it's own thing and - for just once in his life - he wanted something that only he had made, not with his older brother. Yone takes his poorly, and being the toxic brother that he is, makes a scene at an industry party and gets booted out. Yasuo cuts him out of his life. On his drunken, staggering tirade through the streets of Valoran City, Yone gets into an accident. He dies. But then suddenly gets resuscitated! I'm not a doctor so I just literally chalk it up to a freak accident that Yone comes back. While Yone believes that it's a second chance. He wakes up in the coroner's office in a cooler, and bangs and screams at the door the whole night until the coroner ME comes in the next morning to fetch the John Doe. Yone doesn't know who he is anymore, but he knows he can't be the asshole now cause that's what got him killed. So he spends time reflecting, soul searching. He knows he still loves making music, and though he gets a desk job and lives this semi-stable life, he still dreams of making music.

Enter Heartsteel.

Aphelios' twin sister is already a multi-platinum artist who runs her own record label - Lunari Studios. Aphelios is on the other side of the story - he's just kind of following Alune around and standing back as she shines. He knows he's talented - he knows a million instruments and helps Alune with her production, but he doesn't think that he could do it all by himself. When he and Sett start dating, it's more of the same. Sett is big and loud, people are drawn to him and his style, and it gives Aphelios someone to latch onto that isn't his sister for once. In Off Script, Aphelios' fate would have been the silent lyricist and musician for the band. He would have told himself that he was happy with standing back.

Except after the events of the music video, Yone won't let him. Yone encourages him to sing, to write bolder lyrics, to voice his opinion. Yone helps Aphelios find confidence, and in return Aphelios lets Yone help him. All Yone really ever wants in any AU is to help, but helpful people can be toxic too. Aphelios allows Yone to do that, but with his own confidence can help draw boundaries on when Yone is being too supportive, or investing too much of his own energy. In the Heartsteel AU I wrote, they are happy together ^^

I finished Off Script around the time of Worlds 2023. Which was when they announced my Babygirl!

And boy what a journey THIS CHARACTER HAS BEEN.

Hwei has it all. The trauma, the growth, the setbacks, the hips, the style, the potential. Surprisingly though - I am not a huge fan of the JhinHwei ship. Maybe cause I see too much of myself and who I used to be in its dynamic. I've been both of those characters in my past relationships, but this isn't the place for that kind of deep dive.

Hwei is neat because he introduced a new idea to my ship dynamic. He's not broken, just lost. He's looking for himself and every person he meets is just a stepping stone on his journey to peace of mind.

I wouldn't call Hwei self assured, because he doesn't know who he wants or what he wants to be, but he knows he has all the tools to reach that end. I like shipping him with multiple characters with Hwei in different stages of his self-realization because he is an inspiring character. He can terrify and and awe in the same breath, depending on which version of him we're visiting.

For this last one we're departing League completely.

I got into HSR after Genshin got a little stale for me. Also I got a fancy new phone that I could actually play Hoyo games on, and HSR is the best for mobile play.

I got into HSR in the middle of the Penacony story, but my friends warned me that I'd love Aventurine when I met him. I spoiled myself by looking at pictures of him and OOH BABY

You can fit so much trauma in this baby.

Aventurine is another fun one because yes - he has a tragic fucking story and I would single handedly help him repopulate Sigonia if given the opportunity. But once again, Teeeechnically not broken.?? He has ghosts he faces throughout the story, and must address each aspect of himself before crossing the river, but by the time he's come out, I like to think he's at peace with who he had to become in order to survive. From fighting in pits, murdering his former owner, tricking the IPC, I don't think Kakavasha would have done any of that stuff. Aventurine, on the other hand-

It's a common theme when you are in survival mode because of trauma. Is he fully cured? Fuck no, but will he continue to strive to be the kind of person he wished would have saved him when he was a kid? Fuck yes.

Which is why we need to impregnate him.

My friends warned me I'd love Blade. I was determined to not, but then I went through the Jingliu story and learned about the High Cloud Quintet and it was over.

I just think this guy's hot. I know a lot of people ship him with Dan Feng and Jing Yuan (it's pretty hot, ngl), but I kinda like Blade/Kafka or Blade/Stelle. The Kafka angle is not so much romantic as it is a mutual understanding that they are both going down this journey together and it can get lonely sometime. So more convenience than romance.

I'm working on a Blade/Stelle story right now where - Best I Am, Prey You Become. It explores Stelle abandoning the trailblaze to join the Stellaron Hunters, and as part of her initiation Blade if voluntold by Kafka to train her. Their relationship is mentor/student and she is obviously hot for him, but Blade is an immortal, tired old man who doesn't have time for that. Except Elio has other plans, as Blade's script reaches a conclusion - he finds something worth dying for. When it comes to HSR Fanfictions I take a lot more creative liberty because I didn't follow the lore to the letter. Also I love world building so!!!! I also built Sigonia-IV for that story, I just gotta get the neurons to activate x.x

[not-poignant]

Jesus H Christopher, Pia. Your writing load is insane.

Maybe you should cut back on how many chapters you release for certain stories? Like Stain and Palma (since these stories dont equal income) until UtB the other Underline stories are almost done. Just a thought

Because I feel burnt out just by thinking of writing that much, so I can only imagine how you feel. Please take care of yourself

Hi anon,

TL;DR: My brain is stupid, which is why I can't do this, even though it makes sense and is logical.

Unfortunately the fanfiction is what often makes the original fiction possible, or more enjoyable.

If I lock myself down into too much schedule and rigidity, or if I only focus on writing for money, I actually start to hate writing, even if I love the stories. There is nothing like 'will this earn money, do people like this, would people pay, what if they all decide to stop paying for this, why would they pay for this, would I pay for this, how much would people pay for this, is there any incentive for them to pay for this, actually if I wrote a ton of different tropes maybe I'd make more for this, but that's depressing, but I need the money, shit what do I do, what if I lose my income, what if it all stops tomorrow, I need to write more, I need to write more, I need to write more' that is actually very exhausting and makes writing not much fun at all.

And to deliberately break out of that headspace as much as possible, I write fanfiction. Because that headspace (the one I wrote about above), on its own, even if I'm only writing two stories, can and has led to burnout and depressive episodes. I don't recommend it.

In a way, one of the reasons I can write so many stories right now (ADHD meds aside) is that I am letting myself break out and just have fun with fanfiction, and remember that my original writing is meant to be fun too. But without fanfiction, I lose sight of that very quickly.

Fanfiction means that when an original story chapter does super badly, generally there are still excited comments elsewhere that keep me going. That's how I survived The Ice Plague, and that story would never have been completed without fanfiction, because that was my worst performer of any story I've ever written. It also means if a lot of subscribers leave at once, I don't feel like The Worst Writer In The World. So having fanfiction behind me was like...a literal safety net or my security blanket.

If I have to discard my security blankets or use them less often in order to keep writing the original stuff, I might as well just stop entirely, because my longest hiatuses from Patreon (i.e. one lasted 1.5 years, many have lasted 4-6 months) have been when I'm mostly just writing original fiction, and am not writing much fanfiction, or not deliberately finding time for it, and finally get so stressed out re: money I literally have to stop. I'm on a (partial) Disability Pension.

A long time ago some professional people told me I probably shouldn't be working at all because of my mental illnesses and then paid me money because of the severity of those mental illnesses. My dumbass brain be pretty fragile, actually, and keeps chugging away because I make bad business decisions and write stuff I enjoy instead of writing to market, or doing rapid release, or releasing more novels (or novels). Writing does ironically help when I'm stressed, but not when I'm stressed about making money because of writing.

I will cut at my income before I cut at my love of this job, and unfortunately fanfiction keeps me going in this job, which means I can't really cut at that first.

(Also from a business perspective, it's actually a very good funnel to the original stuff and then subscription. Most of you wouldn't be here if you hadn't read one of my fanfics first and then gave the original stuff a try - I try not to think about that too much because I need fanfic to not be about money, but the fact is, I would not have this career without fanfic).

I do have plans to take two weeks off in January from posting chapters (I can still post rewards in the second half of January) and that's not too far away.

And the reality is that I probably would have kept going okay if real life hadn't imploded on top of everything like the world's worst bukkake party.

[shsy7573]

Two-Hundred Days

A Voltron Fanfiction by shsy7573

Description: When Keith goes radio silent after weeks of daily video calls with his boyfriend, Lance begins to worry. To cope with the stress, he begins filming daily audio recordings on Keith’s old helmet. As Lance’s mental health begins to deteriorate, each message becomes more depressing than the last. What happens when Keith finally returns, and listens to how broken his boyfriend has become?

Relationships: Klance

WARNING: thoughts and discussions of suicide. Cursing

Notes/Info: Langst. Hurt/comfort. Screw canon, Lance is Blue Paladin, Keith is Red. Depressed Lance. Suicidal Lance. I didn’t include every single recorded message (obviously), but i figured I’d just include instances that highlighted Lance’s descent into deep depression. Tbh I don’t know how I feel about this one. The writing feels awkward/out of character, but let me know what you think. I kinda just had this idea pop into my head so I wrote it down :/

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lance sat down and rested his back resting against the wall. He scanned the room. It was a place he’d been to many times before, and it wasn’t all that different from the other quarters in the castle. It was quaint, small. A bed ran along the side of the wall, its blue sheets tucked neatly under the mattress. There was a long compartment for belongings located next to the door, and a coat hanger right above it with a red and white jacket. Keith’s jacket. He’d left it behind when he’d joined the Blade.

It had been days since Lance had heard from the former Paladin. Nobody else was worried. Why would they be? They didn’t get daily calls from the half-Galran. Then again, it would be weird if they did. They weren’t his boyfriend.

Lance missed Keith. A lot. It was lonely on the ship without having his favourite Red Paladin to snuggle into. He missed the long conversations in Red or Blue’s cockpits, or the late-at-night encounters in the kitchen when neither Paladin could sleep. The team just felt… empty without him. Or maybe Lance just felt empty.

Usually, though, he’d have their morning calls to look forward to. It was the only time of day Keith was always one-hundred percent free. Apparently the Blade of Marmora were late risers. Mornings had become Lance’s favourite part of the day, whereas before it had been a struggle to get out of bed.

That’s part of the reason he was so worried. He knew Keith enjoyed their time together too, his boyfriend wouldn’t miss out unless he was doing something really important. Right?

Lance sighed. He didn’t even know why he’d come to Keith’s room. Obviously he wasn’t just going to show up here. That's not how things worked. Still, he’d hoped it would at least make him feel closer to the boy in some way. That it would do something to cure the aching in his gut that had started to emerge since he went radio silent. It didn’t, though. In fact Lance almost felt more separated from him.

The Blue Paladin stood up again, about to leave when something caught his eye. A small glint coming from inside the chest - which apparently wasn’t fully closed. Curiously, Lance walked over, and opened the trunk to discover Keith’s abandoned Paladin armour.

Oh. I was wondering what he did with that. Lance thought, reaching down and picking up the helmet. Ever since Keith left, Allura had been piloting the Red Lion. She hadn’t used Keith’s armour, though, instead opting to make a set with pink trimming. The Paladin smiled, wiping dust off the visor as he sat down again beside the chest. Man, this thing’s been through it.

He wasn’t exactly sure what prompted him to do it. Maybe because it was something of Keith’s, and he missed talking to him, maybe he just needed to vent without worrying anyone with his problems. Either way, he reached inside the helmet and activated the recording function.

-

[ RECORDING ONE ]

There was a shuffling noise, followed by a light jostling as the helmet was set down. It was quiet at first. The only sounds being picked up were the breathing of another person, and a quiet, awkward shuffling.

Then, a small, uncertain voice began to speak. “Uh… hey man. It’s… been a couple days since we’ve talked. I keep wondering if maybe something’s happened to you. I hope not. I’m sure I’m just being paranoid. You're probably just busy, but… I can’t help worrying about you. I love you, you know? And I miss you.”

The speaker took a breath, and the muffled sound of his voice as it went on suggested he’d put his head in his hands. “Dios, this was stupid. What am I even doing?” He inhaled, and his voice became clearer once more. “Whatever, I’m doing it now. So, fuck it I guess.”

More shuffling as the speaker repositioned himself. “It’s pretty early right now. About the time we’d usually call. You got me into the habit of waking up early, you know? Mama would overjoyed to hear that.”

“Nobody else is awake yet. Uhh… the whole Allience thing with Lotor is still pretty new. It’s been pretty hard to trust him, but… if he’s telling the truth it could be nice to finally have another ally. Especially one whose Zarkons son.”

“Hunk is experimenting with the food replicators again. He’s trying to flavour the goo to taste like spaghetti, so far it hasn’t worked. I’m not sure I really want spaghetti in goo form, but it’s good he’s trying new things. Allura’s still doing really well as the Red Paladin. I was worried for a while she’d be pissed about switching from Black, but I don’t think she minds. As long as she gets to fight she seems happy. Now that we know King Alfor binding the lions with her quintessence makes her able to fly any of them, I don’t think she’ll be leaving the cockpit anytime soon. Shiro is… well, he’s Shiro. He’s… definitely getting more and more done with all my shit. So, that’s something I guess. Pidge… we’ll, she won’t admit it but I think she still misses her dad. And, with mat working with the resistance it’s like she’s all alone again. I think she’s better, though.”

“Umm, let’s see, uh… yeah, we all miss you. Me especially, even though I already said that. I know the Blade would reach out if something had happened to you— at least, I hope they would. I’ll just… try to be patient. I think that’s about it. See you, man. Hopefully, I’ll talk to you soon.”

The sound of shifting metal could be heard, followed by a soft click.

-

[ RECORDING TEN ]

A bit of static washed over the mic, before the telltale sign of something being placed down.

“Hey, Keith, I’m… yeah I’m still doing these. Still… haven’t heard anything from you yet. I’m really starting to worry. Are you alright? Surely you’re fine. You can’t be dead. Somebody would know… right? But… What if you’re lost? What if you’re hurt?! Damn it, I’m freaking out. I think the others are starting to notice something’s wrong. I just— I can’t stop thinking about you. Please just… I really need you to call. I hate not knowing what’s going on.”

Lance took a deep breath, and he was silent for a few moments before continuing. “Nothing new has happened. Still the same old Castle. I tried telling Shiro that I was worried, but he just said I needed to focus. That… I couldn’t worry about you, because you could take care of yourselves and Voltron needed my attention. And he’s right. Of course he is, he’s Shiro. I just… I don't know if I can.”

“That’s about it, I guess. I miss you, please call. I love you.”

-

[ RECORDING ELEVEN ]

“Hey, me again. It’s the next morning, and… I don’t know, I really just needed to talk. Shit’s been happening lately, Allura and Lotor think they’ve made a…discovery? Coran - and the rest of us for that matter - isn’t too sure, we’re all a little sceptical. Still, Allura seems on board with it, so we’re giving it a go.”

“Everyone’s been a little… crabbier than usual. I keep trying to lighten the mood, but that just pisses them off more. I’m sure they just need to blow off some steam. If they need to yell at me to take the edge off, then I— I suppose I’m okay with it. They don’t… actually mean the things they’re saying. So it’s fine… I guess”

“I’m still really, really fucking worried about you. I don’t—“ his voice strained for a moment, and when he spoke again it sounded teary, “I don’t know what to think. I just— Keith, if you die I don’t— I don’t know what I’d do. The team can’t afford for me to be grieving right now but, I just can’t— I’m such a fucking mess. Please… please come back. Just send a message or— or at least give me some sort of sign that you’re alive! I need you to be alive, Keith!”

He sniffled, and the microphone was shifted slightly.

“Please… please call me soon. I love you.”

-

[ RECORDING TWENTY-THREE ]

“So… listen. I know I said that I was okay if everyone started yelling at me, b-but… I— I—“ his voice broke. There were a couple moments where the sounds of crying could be heard, before the speaker composed himself and started talking again. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be complaining about this. We have so many better things to worry about. It’s— god some of the things they say, they fucking hurt, man. Like, I know I’m fucking stupid but that doens’t mean I want to hear it all the time. I— I’m just trying to do my best. I just want to help.”

Lance sniffled, taking deep breaths to try and compose himself before continuing. “God, Keith they— I think they hate me. Or, at least they’re starting to. That’s the only explanation for why they— they just—“ he sighed.

“I wish you were here,” he cried, not even trying to conceal his misery anymore. “I— I miss you… so much, Keith. I don’t know where you are, and I’m terrified. Keith. Please just… come home. Come back to me. Let me know you’re alright.”

The Blue Paladin was quiet, his cries having died off in the last sentence. It was so quiet there was barely an indication for when the microphone was switched off yet again.

-

[RECORDING FIFTY-ONE]

“—eith!” Lance all but yelled into the microphone. Having started talking before the recording and even started. “Oh my god, Kieth, I don’t— I don’t know what to do!” He whispered. His breathing was sparratic. And there was a constant jostling that suggested the camera was shaking. “I— I— I died Keith. We-w we were just trying to h-help fix this Galra base. It was— Allura was gonna— there was gonna be an explosion so I- I jumped in! I just— I don’t even— I knew we couldn’t lose her! I would rather it be me and so I just… and then I— died and— and nobody even—“ his breathing was out of control now.

“I c— I— h—“ the Paladin tries to force the words out, but it was no use. For several minutes, he sobbed as panic swept over him. Being picked up by the helmet as ragged and quick inhalations of breath. Lance forced himself to take deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth. After a while, he settled down enough to talk again. Though, his voice was shaky and weak.

“Bl-blue saved me. She— she shared some of her quintessence with me, an-and our bond is stronger than-than ever. I can hear he-her talk now. Which… is cool I g- I guess.” He continued to breathe slowly as he spoke.

“I— I don’t even think anybody cared.” He whispered, squeezing it past the lump in his throat. “They didn’t— they didn’t even say anything, I— m-maybe they don’t know? But y-you’d think they w-would have felt something?”

Lance sniffled, and his voice became muffled as he placed his head in his lap. “I don’t know anymore. I… I just know that I miss you. I really miss you Keith,” he mumbled, voice sad and thick as he sobbed. “And I just— I— I need you, and I miss you, and I love you and I just— I- I feel so alone. I am so alone.”

“I’m sorry. Whatever I did, whatever stupid thing I’ve done to make the universe take you away from me, I’m sorry! Please! I need you! I c— I don’t want to be alone anymore!” He sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve, before sighing. “I just want you to come back. Please, come back. I— I love you.”

There were a couple more minutes of crying, before the recording finally ended.

-

[ RECORDING NINETY-EIGHT]

There was a sigh as the recording started. The room was silent for a couple moments, before Lance started talking. “Hey, Keith. I… was going to make this in the morning, but… I just… haven’t had the energy to do this. So, I’m doing it now, right before I go to bed.” His voice was monotone. Tired. “I don’t know what to think anymore. The Blade haven’t been in contact, so… I’m assuming you’re not dead. I’m hoping you're not dead.”

“A lot of stuff has been happening. I… if I’m being honest, I don’t really want to talk about it. Nobody on the team is very happy with me. I keep annoying them. I’m not trying to, I just— I don’t know how else to lighten the mood. The good thing is, with everyone being so pissed at me they’re not really arguing with each other. So, that’s good good, I guess. At least I’m doing something useful.”

“You’ve been radio silent for, um… gosh how long has it been? I— I think a little over three months? I don’t know, I’ve lost track. Everytime I ask the team if they’ve heard anything they tell me to stop being paranoid, and focus on the mission. They’re right. I’m already enough of a hindrance without nagging twenty-four seven.”

He sighed again, shifting as he swallowed thickly. “That’s… all I have to report. Miss you. Love you.”

- AFTER KEITH COMES BACK AND ALL THE FINALE AND SHIRO REVIVAL HAPPENS ALSO DON’T ASK BUT THE PLANET THEY STOP ON RIGHT AFTER ALL THAT HAS A FOREST NOW I’VE DECIDED -

Keith stretched as he and the other Paladins sat around the fireplace. He was pretty content. Shiro was back, actually back, and they’d gathered enough resources to get on the road again. Of course not everything was great. They’d lost the castle, obviously, and it would be a long time before they reached earth… but they’d manage.

Keith had retaken up the mantle as Red Paladin, not at all sorry to admit that he’d missed his Lion. Shiro had gratefully backed out of the Paladin position. He was still pretty shaken up after being extracted from Black and shoved into Kuran’s cloned body.

Yeah, it had been a weird couple of days.

Now that they were on the road, though, Keith figured he’d better make a note of it somewhere. Something told him he’d be wanting to keep track of events. He stood up, stretching as he spoke, “I’ll be back, guys. Just gotta do something.” The others murmured acknowledgements as he walked away. Keith completely missed the look of longing on his boyfriend's face as he made his way over to Red.

The leaned leaned down her head, opening her jaw to let him in. He entered casually, sending a mental greeting to the beast. She replied with a purr, warmth blazed through his mind at her greetings as he sat down in the pilot’s chair. Keith sat there for a moment, relaxing before reaching down to start a recording on his helmet.

To his dismay, the second it started, the recording ended, sending out a little automated message.

“Memory data, full.”

That was odd, Keith had never made a recording of this thing in his life. He opened the history, and was shocked to see that a stream of videos were practically flooding its memory banks. One for every single day for the last month.

Who the fuck has been using my helmet? He questioned, opening the latest message in curiosity.

Suffice it to say he was shocked to hear Lance’s broken, devastated voice on the other end.

[ RECORDING TWO HUNDRED]

The mic switched on, immediately being overcome by sobbing. They were loud, depressing and defeated. It sounded like they were being torn from their speaker’s throat. “I— I fucked up, Keith.”

“Lance?”

“They all hate me for sure now! I— I know they do! I do! I was just trying to help.”

What’s going on? Why is he so upset? Keith wondered, heart rate picking up as he listened to the recording.

“Allura and Lotor were— were working on the- the ship, and I offered to help but— but I don’t know how to build. I’m not an engineer, I didn’t- why the fuck did I even think that was a good idea! I just wanted to be helpful like- like Pidge, or Hunk. They said they were fine, but I insisted! And… and I made them all upset. I just kept getting I— in the way. They got so mad, Keith, they were so mad!”

What? Keith wondered, his heart breaking as he listened.

He sobbed harder, breathing quickly as he pressed on. “Pidge was— Pidge was right! And Shiro was right— a—and Iverson and-and fucking everyone! I— can’t- I can't do it! I’m just a fuck up, I’m a fucking idiot! I’m so stupid! I can’t— I can’t do anything right! I’ll never- b—be able to- t-to do anything right! I’m just a screw up! I’m— s-so useless”

“No!” Kieth protested to no one as the voice echoed through his Lion’s cockpit. What happened to you while I was gone?

He shouldn’t be listening to this. This was obviously a private recording. Then again… he sounds so sad. And.. it is being addressed to me…

He couldn’t force himself to stop listening. He was so glad he didn’t.

“I know why you disappeared now. You probably got fed up with me too. You stopped calling because y— you couldn’t take me anymore.”

No! How could you even think that?!

“You didn’t want me around! You got sick of m—me and how ann-noying I am. You d-didn’t want to b—to— be around someone this worthless!”

Keith could feel tears starting to form in his eyes. That’s not true! None of it! You’re not worthless!

“It’s okay I— I understand! I don’t either! I know th—that everyone wou-would be better off-f-f without me. I know— I know they o-only keep me ar-aro-ound is because there’s nobody else compatible wi-w-ith Blue!”

Lance, no!

“If— if you were here I— I know I’d be s—sent away. You would Pi-i-lot Red, and Allura could pilot Blue and th-a-then I’d just be nothing! Nobody! No use in keeping me around! You c-could all finally get rid of me! I want to get rid of me!”

The Red Paladin’s eyes widened. He couldn’t mean…

The crying, somehow, just became more desperate. More heart-wrenching, “I— I- d-d-on’t- wa-at to do this anymore, Keith!”

Then again, Keith didn’t think anyone could fake this level of heartache.

“I ca— I can’t! If there wasn’t- if there was an—anyone else I wouldn’t even— I would— I’d just stop! I don’t want to live anymore! I h-hate not be—eing able to do anything!”

Don’t you even dare, Lance!

“If you came back, and I wasn’t- couldn’t be useful anymore. I— I- don’t— I would just—“ he gasped, hard as he tried to force the words out, “I don’t—“ another big inhale, “I don’t think I could do-o it anymore! I co-couldn’t bear to-to have you lo-look at me! I could-dn’t stand you hating me. I w- I would just fucking end it so you all w-wouldn’t have to-o-o d-e-deal with me anymore!”

Every inch of Keith froze as he heard those words. His thoughts screeched to a halt, heart skipping a beat as his blood ran cold.

“It would b-b-e f-for the best! V-Voltron would be better off! Th-the u-inverse would be b—better off!”

Lance just kept crying. The sheer agony he felt in his soul coming out as loud, wrenching, ugly cries. Like he was trying to expel all the parts of him that he felt weren’t good enough.

“Nobody wants me.” He whispered after a while, when the crying had died down just enough to regain his breath. “I don’t deserve to go back home.”

He swallowed, and there was a shuffling, and a sudden closeness of the voice that suggested he was hugging the helmet. “I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough. E—even though you hate me… I still love you.”

The Blue Paladin sniffled, the sound of skin rubbing skin could be heard as he wiped his tears. “I h-hope one day you come back. For the others. I promise I- I won’t bother you. I pro-promise you would have to deal with me.”

“I’m sorry… mi amor. I’m so- so sorry.”

There was a beat. A single moment taken to process everything he’d just heard. Then, Keith was out of his seat, and racing out of his lion. He tossed helmet to the ground, not even caring as his heart thundered in his chance. He had to find him, he had to find Lance.

I’ve barely even talked to him since I got back! I- everything just happened so fast! I’ve just been so preoccupied… What if he thinks— I haven’t even— oh god, FUCK!

He ran over to the others, not bothering to conceal his panic as he realised that the Blue Paladin was not sitting with the others anymore.

Oh god, oh fuck, oh no!

“Where’s Lance?!”

“Keith, what—“ Shiro started, but the Red Paladin as having none of it.

“WHERE’S LANCE?!”

Pidge shrugged, “uh… he,” she turned to where the Paladin had been sitting and shrugged, “he kinda just disappeared. I don’t exactly—“

“What the fuck is wrong with you! You didn’t even bother to—“ Keith cut himself off, shaking his head. He didn’t have time for this. He grabbed onto Cosmo’s fur.

His dog, seemingly to get the message, immediately teleported them away. They popped up in the forest somewhere, and Keith looked around desperately. His heart sang in relief as he saw the blue and white armour of his boyfriend slinking between the trees.

“LANCE!” Keith shouted, barreling towards him. The boy turned around just in time to be tackled to the ground in a whirlwind of arms and legs. Keith didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything right now. He squeezed Lance tight to his chest as the boy flustered in confusion.

“Kieth, what—“

“Oh my god, you’re okay! You’re okay! Lance y— how could you— do you know how fucking scary that was?! I don’t care that I’ve been inside the stomach of an animal, or that Shiro has almost died like five times, or that we’ve faced an army of like ten thousand Galra ships! I have never been more terrified in my fucking life than when I heard you say you’d kill yourself if I ever came back!”

If possible, he held Lance tighter. “Then— then when I came outside and you weren’t with the others I though— I— I thought that you…”

Lance was silent for a few moments, before a realisation dawned on his face. His shoulders went slack, any attempt of trying to pretend that he was fine dying on his lips.

“The recordings…”

Keith pulled back so he could see Lance’s face. He raised his hands up to grab the boy’s head firm, caressing his cheeks as he stared into those ocean blue eyes. He kept a tight hold with his other hand, as if the second he let Lance go, he would lose him. “I can’t believe— you— do you know how devastated I would be if you— if you tried to…” Keith shook his head, slamming his body into Lance again, sending them both completely to the ground.

Tears filled the Blue Paladin’s eyes. “I… I’m sorry! I’m so-s-sorry! I fucked everything up I— I didn’t mean— I just— I’m so—“

“Don’t you apologise for anything, McClain. I love you so much, Lance. I don’t ever want to lose you. I— I can’t— I don’t even want to imagine a world where you’re not in it! I would never abandon you! Do you hear me?! Never! I would never! Ever! Leave you!”

Lance wrapped his own arm around Keith. Holding the boy just as firmly, with just as much desperation. All he could do was cry. Everything that had been building up pouring out of him as he grasped onto Keith like a lifeline.

“Everything’s just—j- been so much! Ev-verybody ha-h-h-hate me! I’m such a fuck up! I’m- I’m stupid- and I’m weak and- and- I an-nnoy everyone! And it doe-s-doesn’t matter how hard I try! I j- I d- I can’t keep up!” He sobbed, his breaths deep and agonising as he forced more words out through his panic. “I can’t do it anymore! I’m so sick of getting yelled— and scolded a-a-and of p-pe-peo-ple condes-sending me! And— and I know they’re right— I -I know-I its because I’m not good enough! I d-deserve it! But I can’t— I’m sick of being so worthless and I can’t—“

“You are not worthless, Lance! Not one bit! And I… I’m so sorry! When I came back, I was just- I was so preoccupied with everything else I just— I wasn’t even thinking! God, I can’t believe— I can’t imagine how awful you must have felt when I didn’t even— ! I never meant to— I love you, Lance! I love you! You are so beautiful and smart and talented and funny and you… and you are good enough Lance! You are everything! And I hate that you didn’t have anyone around to tell you that, because it’s true! It is so fucking true, Lance! You matter so much! I love you so much! Don’t you ever try to leave me! You matter so much to me!”

Lance shook his head. Sitting up again as he pushed Keith away. “Why, though?! I’m so fucking dumb! I’m incompetent! I can’t do anything right!”

“That’s not true!”

“Yes it is! It’s how everyone has been treating me for the past month! It has to be true! I know it’s true! I just— I can’t even fathom why anyone would ever fucking want me around! I don’t understand why anyone would ever fucking care about me when I’m not even—“

Keith raised a finger to Lance’s lips, stopping the tumbling of words in its tracks. It was too painful. He couldn’t listen to the person that he loved so much talk so little about himself. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t right, and Keith wasn’t going to let it happen.

He opened his hand, trailing it from the boy’s mouth to gently caress his cheek. For a moment, he just let himself stare into Lance’s teary eyes, the liquid causing them to shine in the light of the planet. Even though he looked broken and his face was covered in tears and snot, he was still the most beautiful person in the world to Keith. He always would be. The Red Paladin applied a soft, hinting pressure to his partner’s jaw, pulling it towards him ever so slightly.

Lance allowed himself to be guided forward. Both lost in each other’s eyes as they grew closer. Finally, when their lips were close enough that their noses touched, Keith tilted his head.

“Then let me show you,” he whispered, in a voice softer than Lance had ever heard him use. His warm breath brushed across Lance’s skin, sending a cascade of shivers all the way down his body.

The Red Paladin shut his eyes, and leaned forward. As the distance between them was finally closed, their lips met. Lance, still in shock, kept his eyes open for a moment before melting into the kiss. It was light, and gentle, but full of emotion. Keith’s devotion and determination came off in waves as he tried to pass on every ounce of his love to the Blue Paladin.

It was something that, over the past few months Lance had wanted so badly. A kind of affection he’d craved for so long now, but had convinced himself he’d never feel again. Convinced himself he didn’t deserve.

At that moment, the rest of the world melted away. There was no more team. No more Voltron. It was just Lance and Keith, tangled in each other’s embrace as they’re lips met in an expression of love, longing, and relief.

[lipglossanon]

hey !!

Look ik its been a while since I actually gave an ask worth sending, but honestly I have been wanting to say this for a while; I’m really glad you took that break :) writing for nearly a decade and having the more unique experience of starting very young, the one thing I've taken away is that you really need to take care of yourself if you want to write anything worth writing. You have to nurture yourself and love yourself in a way that benefits you.  

It took me a long while to learn that :’) and now i’m hobbling back into the fanfiction scene after a series of Very Misfortunate events that could honestly qualify as an ao3 author’s hiatus apology in the notes section. It probably will, someday.

Anyways drink a glass of fuckin water, all you thirsty hoes. It benefits your skin >:)

<3

(Good god do i feel like shit taking a gap year. I am too neurodivergent to do college :( )

p.s, honestly both the puppy!leon x kitten/bunny(?)reader + rookie!dso reader AUs are going to have to be multi chapter at this point. My god, what am I getting myself into?

Hi friend!! 👋 💜 (I know I replied to an earlier one so this one seems off lmao)

It has been awhile! But no worries, stuff happens haha

Aww thank you! I’m glad I took the break too; I’m not so worried over putting out content anymore. I’ve wrote more for Leon in two months than anything in the last five years so like I’m good 🤣 🤣

AGSJFL not the authors note hiatus apology🤣 🤣

Ahh don’t feel bad, congrats on getting back into school (if it was your choice!).

Ahhhh! I’m excited to read your work!! 🥰 🥰 please let me know when you post!! 🤭

[rex101111]

I'd love to see some commentary on Swipes of Sword and Fan, I'm curious when it comes to more variety-type fics where the inspiration for different chapters comes from and the like. And here's a ⭐ for anything you'd like to talk about in general about whatever!

Thank you!! Looking back im actually pretty proud of this little collection im slowly building up, though to be honest I didn't give it too much thought when I started.

It started out as a bit of a joke, the first chapter was basically just me posting one of the drabbles I sometimes write when somebody sends me a quick description. I just rolled with the premise while staying as close to those two crazy criminals as I could. I posted it as the first chapter of a "collection" half jokingly as an affectionate jab at a trend in fanfiction that is kinda dead these days but was damn near impossible to avoid just a few years back.

People taking an entire prompts list, anywhere from thirty to a hundred, and using that to make a chronologically loose collection of stories based entirely around one ship or group. A select few went the distance and did the whole bunch, but most of them stopped at around the 15 mark. Which is plenty impressive, sure, but it always struck me as evidence that fanfic writers have an awful little habit of biting off more than they can chew.

A habit I'm sure long time readers of my work will no doubt know that I share. The amount of times I said "IM GONNA MAKE A LONG FIC OUTTA THIS ONE JUST YOU WATCH" to myself only to get distracted later on by scheduling issues or just getting attached to another idea... Ah well.

So, yeah, I posted that first chapter as a bit of a jab at myself "oh yeah sure im going to make a collection out of this, the whole nine yards!...probably gonna make it an even 30, be surprised if it hits 15", and the first few chapters came to me like lightning. Since I established the setting in the summary, I pretty much gave myself the freedom to make any story I wanted so long as it was in that very vaguely defined period of time.

Any story. Any at all. Whatever weird idea came to my head with these two that I could fit on two-three pages. I kinda went nuts. Most chapters were born from a quick idea I had like "hey so what if anji got jealous?" or "how do they deal with bounties anyway?" and others I had to really sit with like "...what were Baiken's parents like?" or "tying shoes must be a pain in the ass" or "oh hey what if Anji actually did feel guilty and afraid of his actions hurting the one person he cared about" and so on.

It's gotten to the point where I'm actually fairly certain I will hit that 30 chapter mark at some point. I'm not putting myself on any time line, I just post whenever I have a suitably dense and short story I wanna add. And boom.

and im gonna use the star as a chance to rant a little about how petty I personally can be about comments. First off, I love getting any kinda comment at all, if its a simple "OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS" or something along those lines, I will gobble it up like its delicious because it is.

But! Personally speaking if you really wanna make me happy as a writer, I really REALLY like those comments that pick a sentence or a segment and go "OH I REALLY LIKE THIS PART HERE'S A QUICK RANT WHY". Been this way since I wrote weird OC shit on DeviantArt back in the day, craving that very specific "you did good" validation.

Seriously tho, if a reader doesn't have it in them to write a Formal Review of my fanfic I'm not gonna hold it against them. I probably won't answer because I'm honestly genuinely awkward like that. But the dopamine shot of "Comment on AO3" lasts longer if the comment is also longer, you know? I've read comments that made me dance in place and pump my fists like I won a marathon. that shit rocks and readers who take the time to indulge my need for overly specific praise are a treasure.

[little-blue-tiefling]

Ship Meme

Tagged by @thecouncilwasright :)

First ship you ever read fic for: I... actually can’t remember? Maybe some dragon age fic? Oh wait, I once beta read a friend’s American Horror Story fanfic, I’ve never actually watched AHS though does it count asdfh

First ship you ever wrote fic for: I did write a Fenhawke that never saw the light of day a while back

Ship you write the most now: Right now? Nothing, but once exams are done I may write some beauyasha, or finish the Shepard/Liara fic I was writing. Oh also my Watcher/Aloth fics because Imlovethosebois but those? Probably never gunna see the light of day.

Ship you read the most now: Beauyasha

Newest ship: hmm all the CR ships? Also I feel like the moment I start playing PoE2 I’m going to ship Maia and Xoti so watch this space. 

Rare ship you wanna read more of: give me Ryder/Raeka. Pls lord. 

Your taboo ship: What do ya mean taboo ship? I’m assuming this is ship I really don’t like? Or one you’d never be okay shipping? (D0rian/Ir0nbull) what? who said that? Wasn’t me. Also any underage or abusive ships. Like... obviously.

They never met in canon ship: I don't think I’ve ever shipped people who never met in canon? Though thinking about it Sam and Suvi would have been awesome together so you know what those two.

Your unexpected ship: I mean I didn’t expect to ship the Dragonborn with Serena but then... here i am. Shipping the Dragonborn with Serena

The ship you always forget to give love to: Scott/Gil, love that funky engineer. Also Wrench/Marcus love those bois.

Ship your OC with a canon character: I guess PeeBee/Jay counts here, because Jay is (in my canon) not a Ryder. There’s another fic i really need to finish...

A ship you’re embarrassed to ship: I don't know if there’s a ship I’m embarrassed to ship? 

Your most romantic ship: hmm Macen/Avitus, I imagine those two to be super romantic and still are because as we all know Macen is still alive :)

Your sexiest ship: uhhhhh I don't know? I guess I’ll just say Beauyasha? Oh but also Josie/Adaar?

Your most tragic ship: Honestly that goes to Shepard/Liara because even if Shepard does survive, she lives such a small fraction of liara’s life annnnd i made myself sad again. (It’s not Macen/Avitus because Macen? Still alive)

A ship you want more content for: Beauyasha, My Watcher/Aloth (I’m aware i need to do it myself asdfgfh), whatever else I get invested in when exams are over

As always I wont tag people in this, but do it if you want and tag me if ya do :P

[mishasminions]

The Last Time I’ll Write a Long Post About Supernatural (15x18-15x20)

15 YEARS OF WATCHING THIS SHOW. 11 YEARS OF RUNNING A BLOG ABOUT IT. IT’S BEEN QUITE A RIDE.

[15x20 Speculation + evidence at the bottom]

First off, I just wanna come clean and say, after all these years, I still think they should’ve ended at Season 5.

If you’re going to come at me with “Then why’d you stick around to watch it if you didn’t like it?”, your question is immature, and the answer is simple: I just want to know what happens next (I also love the main characters and their actors too). You can watch a show and still think it’s shit.

Call me a clown, but despite all the disappointment and trust issues that this show has given me, I would still look forward to the day where it might just turn itself around and bring back the quality it once had, or realize the potential of each story it was trying to tell, or at the very least, do justice by my favorite ship.

Never happened.

They’ve had a few good episodes here and there. I can’t imagine the SPN Universe without The Man Who Would Be King, The French Mistake, and Scoobynatural. Seasons 6-10 were enjoyable at times. I blocked out most of 7 & 11-15. 

If you’ve been following this blog since its heydays in 2010-2014, you’d know I’d try my best to defend Destiel and this show’s decisions regarding it no matter what.

Because you know what, as a CONCEPT, this show is good. If you take a look at all the worlds its storylines have birthed in fanfiction/fanworks, you’d see how much Supernatural has wasted its own story arcs. The writing got shittier as each season progressed, and they’ve obviously given up in production as well because the quality in the execution has noticeably gone down too, but if you take a step back and take a look at the bigger picture, you’ll see that this show still tries to make sense of itself.

[If you’re still following this post, please bear with me, I know this is long, but I just want you to understand how jaded and pessimistic I am with regards to this show, so maybe you can buy into whatever hopeful thing I’m about to say later on.]

SO LET’S TALK ABOUT DESTIEL

Never in my wildest dreams did I think that they would give us Castiel’s “I love you” speech. To the point where, if I weren’t so desperate for it, I would argue that it was completely out of character for him to word vomit the way he did (but I’m not gonna diss on that right now because I’ll take what I can get).

I’ve valued every meaningful and obscure exchange that Dean and Cas have had in the earlier seasons, and I was willing to accept their relationship as just that--undefined, without any clear boundaries as to what they really are. And I think that was beautiful on its own.

But now, they’ve chosen to define it.

After they’ve driven every possible wedge between Dean and Castiel in seasons 11-15, to try to explain away their feelings as something they offer to a collective.

Dean can’t mourn and pray for JUST Cas, he has to mourn and pray for EVERYBODY--even Crowley, even some chick he just met, because god forbid he cries about just the guy who has given up everything for him--that would be “too homo”.

They’ve even set Cas on a path to abrupt fatherhood just so he can care about something other than Dean. Make it seem as if Dean wasn’t his purpose through and through.

And after all these years of this stupid show trying to deny it, they choose to acknowledge it at the worst possible circumstance, at a time where they’ve been so far apart, that it seems so foreign for them to suddenly come together.

But here we are. And they’ve chosen to tell us.

Chosen to tell us that everything that Castiel has done leading up to his death, he has done it because he was IN LOVE WITH DEAN WINCHESTER.

Chosen to tell us that the ONE THING THAT WOULD MAKE CAS HAPPY IS DEAN WINCHESTER.

Chosen to tell us that BEING WITH DEAN WINCHESTER is something that CAS WANTS BUT KNOWS HE CAN’T HAVE.

And they’ve also chosen to tell us nothing about how Dean feels.

Sure, finding out your angel made a deal, the stipulations of said deal, his newfound happiness philosophy, his long-winded monologue of why he loves you and why you’re worthy of his love, and to top it all off he tells you that being in love with you is enough to make him happy while he subtly hints that he’s always wanted to be WITH you romantically, was a lot to process in the 5 minutes after you’ve just had an existential crisis.

It’s whatever, right? Let’s culminate 11 years worth of tension and feelings in 5 minutes. Let’s waste the entire episode with cringey expository dialogue, and irrelevant sequences. The whole season was a waste anyway.

You know what Supernatural? FUCK YOU FOR THAT. They deserved better. WE deserve better.

And I would love nothing more than to hurl every possible insult your way,

But for the last time, I’m going to HOPE that you’re finally going to try to make it better for the fans that stuck by you all these years.

No more baiting new viewers, no more placating casual viewers, no more excuses. 15 years. Bring it home for the people who have actually been around.

SO HERE’S HOW I THINK 15x20 IS GONNA GO

There’s two ways this series is gonna end. Horribly or Spectacularly.

First let’s all take into consideration what Andrew Dabb says about it:

So, let’s start with

ENDING HORRIBLY

In this scenario, Misha is telling the truth about his last day of filming being 15x18. His “camping trip” during the last few days of filming 15x20, was actually a camping trip. He doesn’t go to Vancouver to shoot.

Jensen wasn’t “being careful” during the zoom interviews that it was just him and Jared quarantining for the shoot, it really was just him and Jared (althought most of these were done pre 15x19) Supernatural isn’t smart enough to do misleading PR, and they’re once again oblivious to the potential of their own story.

Misha hasn’t posted a “Goodbye Castiel” tweet because he’s probably saving it for last episode or he forgot because it was overshadowed by the Destiel trend that night.

So what we get is:

Sam and Dean are on the road again, up against the monster of the week. Only their world no longer has actual Supernatural beings anymore, so the monsters they’re fighting are humans.

Humans end up killing the Winchesters (despite having gone up against literally every powerful being imaginable INCLUDING God himself). Dean and Sam end up in heaven and relive their greatest hits.

Meanwhile, Castiel rots in The Empty because he died after realizing that he was happy and gay. Jack doesn’t bother rescuing him—his surrogate dad, the guy who made this specific deal to spare him—even though it was so easy for him get Cas in and out of The Empty when he had a fraction of the power that he has now.

Dean never speaks of Castiel’s confession because despite all the hints of a profound bond in the earlier seasons, and the fact that Dean has never cared for anyone (who isn’t his actual brother) as immensely as he does Cas, Supernatural just can’t have its main macho character be “suddenly bisexual” because that would hurt the male ego or some shit.

His heaven would probably be living happily ever after with his family. “Family” meaning Mary and John Winchester--two of the shittiest parents ever (but they’re not going to include them in this episode like they were supposed to because of Covid) and Sam.

Sam also gets a dog. As usual.

I wouldn’t put it past Supernatural to do this. After everything they’ve pulled, this would be right up their alley. I actually expect this ending.

Anyway, onto the next possible ending

ENDING SPECTACULARLY

In this scenario, Supernatural tries to stick the landing, and Jensen’s whole “It didn’t sit well with me at first, but then I took a step back after talking to Kripke, and realized that I had to view it from an audience perspective, I am now really excited about it” (DC Con 2019) anecdote about his thoughts on the final episodes, were actually about Dean potentially ending up with Cas. (Which would totally make sense because Jensen at first didn’t see Dean as anything but hetero, but as of late, he has been throwing in Destiel jokes of his own, so he seems to have warmed up to the idea)

Backed with Misha’s tidbit (DLConline 2020) that he and Jensen had conversations about Destiel, and that they wouldn’t have gone through with it if Jensen wasn’t onboard with it, but Jensen didn’t push back at all. (Why would they need to check with Jensen if it was just Cas going all in?)

Robert Berens (writer of 15x18) also wrote the script at the beginning of Season 15, but made Misha privy to the concept a year prior (Season 14), so they went into this season knowing about Destiel going canon.

This one’s a reach, but this scenario also supposes that Misha was lying about his whereabouts during the filming of the final episode, and him saying that 15x18 was his last episode is part of the diversion to avoid taking away from the weight of Castiel’s death.

And that Supernatural is actually self-aware of its own material (similar to how they have wrapped things up in the past—lots of expository dialogue, poor execution, but fulfills the story arc)

Since Season 15 is basically a Meta Season (Chuck/God as a writer, pretentiously calling out how he created the worlds, its characters, and basically invalidating the past 14 seasons), and 15x19 is supposedly the finale for Season 15, written by two of the worst Supernatural writers, Brad Buckner and Eugenie Ross-Leming (Bob Singer’s wife), then we can assume that 15x19 is where the shitty writers kill themselves--as Chuck, of course.

So we get a badly written episode that produces a bad ending, or as Becky put it, “All action, and no Cas”

So we get the bad writers season ending at 15x19.

And 15x20 is where Sam and Dean write their own stories, and where the cast had a hand in pitching ideas for it.

Dabb has mentioned that 15x20 (Act Two) is a SERIES finale, where they try to resolve the characters’ journeys.

Because as everyone has acknowledged, Supernatural isn’t about the story, it’s about the characters.

So here’s what we can get out of it:

With no more Supernatural beings left to fight, Sam and Dean are in a stalemate. They’ve resigned themselves to fighting to the bitter end, but the “end” has passed, and they’re still standing.

So they try to figure out who they are now, and what they want out of the life they still have.

Sam still wants a normal apple pie life. Before Dean dragged him out of college to go hunting with him, he had a whole life planned out for him. Become a lawyer, settle down with a nice girl, and get a dog. He gave all that up because they had work to do, but now the work is finished, he can finally go back to wanting that for himself again.

Dean finally realizes his self-worth after Cas saves him again. His prayer to Cas in purgatory may have helped him come to terms with his anger, but the whole “you’ve done everything you did for love” speech finally put him in his place, and he learns not to hate himself anymore.

But of course, he cannot fully reconcile with himself if he doesn’t get Cas back, and tell him how he feels.

Because Dean actually wants something for himself this time. Something he knows he can finally have if he can just salvage it.

So maybe this time around, with the help of Jack (off-screen), Dean saves Cas. Grips him tight and raises him from perdition.

They bypass The Empty deal by turning Cas human, and he lives the rest of his days with Dean.

Dean and Cas know they deserve to be saved, and they know that they deserve to be happy.

(Wishful thinking, maybe they kiss a little)

Anyway...

I’m just saying, there’s NO WAY that they’d have Cas go through that whole rushed speech, if they weren’t going to do anything about it later on.

But again, after 10 years of disappointment, I wouldn’t put it past Supernatural to pat themselves on the back and say, “Okay, we sort of gave them what they wanted. We’re good now”

If that’s the case, Supernatural, I’m sorry I wasted my time on you.

Here’s to hoping 🤡

[capt-spooki3]

By The Witch's Grace

Route Unlocked: Wilbur

Chapter Four: One on One

A Sbi "choose your own story" fanfiction

Click here for story description

Warnings: cursing, description of anxiety, light angst, injuries, blood, talk of scars

4.7k words

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Y/n stepped down the stairs on the porch, they decided on going to see what Wilbur was doing since he was sitting next to the house. As they walked down the last step, they had turned to say hello to him but Wilbur had already hopped up with the guitar in hand and a big smile on his face when he saw them.

“Hey! Uh Y/n, good morning, I was going to ask if you could help teach me guitar?” He held the instrument up in his hands, gently like he was afraid to break it. “You seem like you’d be a good teacher.”

They looked him over and couldn’t help a smile and giggle at his gentleness.

“Yeah, I would love to teach you, here let’s go to the basement. I have my music books down there and we can get started teaching you some scales.” They offered to him, walking over to guide him to the lower doors on the home, and his eyes lit up as he followed them with excitement.

“I have to warn you though, it’s been a year or two since I’ve played anything, so I might not be as great of a teacher as you think.” They said while keeping the door held open for him to walk inside after them.

“You know more than me at least. I think that will make you a fine enough teacher” He spoke with an obvious smile in his voice, closing the door so he could follow after them and stopping only when Poppy ran up to him with a loud meow so he took a couple of moments to pet her. “I gotta go, sorry sweetie.”

Y/n jogged down the stairs, glancing back to see if Wilbur was behind but heard the soft meow of Poppy and figured he was giving her attention. They walked over to the bookcase filled with music books, all of them being hand-me-downs from the old woman from town that was practically their family now. She didn’t have any children of her own so Y/n simply took up the role for her so they inherited all of the music-related things they had. She was too busy to ever use it and happily gave it away when Y/n showed interest, but not before teaching them how to play.

They hummed while looking over the books, trying to find the one they knew had beginner information in it when Wilbur hurriedly joined them downstairs. They gave him a quick glance, seeing Poppy trailing right behind and tail held up high.

“Aww… she really likes you, Wilbur.”

He glanced back at the cat and smiled. “Yeah, well I really like…” He trailed off and slowly closed his mouth, clearly regretting the words he wanted to say. “Uhm, anyway, how do you... start learning this stuff?”

Y/n grabbed a book off the shelf and turned to face him, taking slow steps toward him as they flipped through pages and glanced over them. “Well, I watched my teacher play a few songs and had her teach me how to play the songs she did. That probably isn’t the best way to learn, but I think it worked pretty well.” They shut the book with a loud thump and extended it to him.

“If you want to learn chords and stuff first though, we can do that. Just whatever you think would be easiest for you to understand.”

He quickly set down the guitar to lean against a chair then took the book from them and opened it up, looking at the pages and trying to see if anything looked familiar or if it made any sense. Of course, it didn’t. It just looked like bunches of weird words and symbols that didn’t mean anything to him.

“I think… I’d like to hear you play.” He glanced up to meet their eyes then back to the book with a laugh. “‘Cause uh, this just looks like a mess of words.”

“Fair enough,” They started as they walked over to grab the guitar from beside him. “Honestly it took me a while to understand all that musical lingo too so I don’t blame you for wanting to start here.” They plopped down in the chair that was beside his and took the small wooden pick from between the strings on the neck of the instrument and strummed a couple of times before needing to tune a few strings.

Wilbur sat down, watching them for a moment before he focused on the book and read through a few pages while Y/n got the guitar in tune. They gave it a couple more strums before nodding their head in contentment with remembering how to get it in tune and situated it on their lap so they could play.

“Okay, I think I’m all ready. So the song I’m going to play is the first one I was taught. I can’t-” They laughed out of a bit of embarrassment, putting their fingers on the right strings. “I can’t remember who wrote it, but it was called Rounds. Now let’s see here...”

-

(cue Rounds by The Oh Hellos)

-

They strummed the chords, seeming a bit unconfident as they were afraid of messing up after not playing for so long. A good few times of repeating the same lines of music, they swayed slowly from side to side as they finally got into it.

They were so busy making sure they wouldn’t mess up that they didn’t notice Wilbur, who had long abandoned the book and was sitting as close to the side of the chair nearest to them to watch. He was leaned forward but slouched a bit since he was resting on his elbows though his eyes watched their hands move to make each new bit of sound. He didn’t miss the chance to sneak glances at their face while they were completely concentrated and not worried about him.

Y/n started to hum a soft tune along with the music, to which they didn’t even notice Wilbur softly joining in with a smile. Even as they hummed louder, loudening the strums as well, he remained undetected as he harmonized with them.

They changed the chords, dying it down, and stopped humming which indicated a change to the course of the song. They let out a breath before taking in a deep one and with the final two strums, they started.

“Am I still speaking?” They straightened and flicked their attention to Wilbur who sung the words along with them, he had a soft smile and a look of pure contentment. They couldn’t help but smile a little back at him, more in surprise than anything. They had to glance back to make sure their fingering was right but looked back at him to make sure it was really him singing with them.

“Yeah, I’m long in the wind.” He dipped his head down a bit, then looked away but continued to sing. “I’ll go on and on and on again, if my chest don't cave in.”

They cut the strum short with their palm and he looked back at them, confused. “You know this song!? There’s no way.”

“Oh really? Well, what about if I…” He averted his gaze, thinking for a moment before looking back to sing again. “Be the sun as my witness! Better prophets could pen. A thousand words for every chord I could ever begin.”

“No way…”

He giggled a little at their astonishment. “That’s my favorite verse.”

"Well, now you've gotta tell me where you learned that." Y/n eyed him with a smile before turning back to the guitar as they played over some of the later parts in the song, but still casting little glances as they waited for him to speak.

"One of the maids back at the castle actually, she was like a second mother after Kristen passed, she sang that song a lot. I helped clean clothes when I wasn't on duty or training." He explained, sitting up and leaning back in the chair but still watching Y/n. "I didn’t know there was music to it though, your humming kinda shot the memory back into me."

“So you know the whole thing?”

“I believe so, why?”

They stopped playing random chords and turned their body to him so he could fully see the guitar this time. “Let’s start again. Watch my hands okay?” With a smile at him, they looked back at the strings and started the song over again but with more confidence. They tapped their foot to the beat this playthrough of the song to keep themself in time.

They played through the song flawlessly, but Wilbur was unsatisfied as he didn’t have the chords down. So they played through it again and again. By the fourth time they ended the song, Wilbur was sitting crisscrossed in the chair, hands in his hair with a confused and completely lost look on his face from not retaining any of what they played enough to try for himself. Y/n laughed to themself and stood up, stretching their body from sitting in the same position for so long.

“Okay, I have an idea if you’re comfortable with it.” They looked down to him as he messed up his hair, smoothing it all down, and watched them curiously. “I can sit on the ground with you, so it’d be easier to help, and direct your hands. We can take it chord by chord, but it’s pretty repetitive so I think you’ll do good with it.”

“Absolutely because I am so lost. Like how do you memorize this stuff? I could never.” He said while moving off the chair to sit on the rug just under the chairs.

“You’ll get it, don't worry. I swear it’s not as hard as you might think once you play enough.” They sat down right in front of him and handed him the guitar. He took it slowly and held it awkwardly, obviously very unsure of how he should be holding it. Holding back on giggling, they scooted closer and guided his hands and the instrument to its proper placements then let him get comfortable with holding it.

“Ready?”

He glanced up at them then back down to his hands and the guitar, nodding a little bit. “Yeah… yeah, I think so.”

With that, they directed him on where to put his fingers for each chord and when he needed it, moved his hands themself or held their hand over his so he could get a feel on how to hold it. They were incredibly patient with him even with his ever so often apology for not being the fastest learner, he was trying hard to understand and remember how to play each chord they taught him. It got easier when they got into the system to teach him one chord then play the chords he knows to revise them all in a way. And after a while, he had all the needed notes down for the entire song.

“Wait, that's it? I did it?” Wilbur sat up straight and when they nodded, he gasped and smiled before moving closer so their knees were touching. “Okay, okay teach me how it goes, I’m ready!”

“Okay! Okay,” They stopped to giggle and thought for a second to make sure they told him the right notes.

The song slowly came together, it was slower than it should be played and he messed up quite a bit but none of it discouraged him. Wilbur never once got frustrated and would just silently correct himself and look for affirmation that he did well. And once he got comfortable with the song and played through it completely, Y/n sang softly to put it all together. Needless to say, he got distracted by them and when he tried to recover, fumbled with the strings and grew flustered by his obvious nervousness. 

He let out a soft sigh, staring at the strings and very clearly thinking or seeming like he wanted to speak.

“Are you okay?” They leaned down to get into his view to which he looked at them and back at the guitar, smiling with a little laugh.

“Yeah, yeah I was just thinking… you know if you were a musical term, I think melody would fit you best.”

“You think?” He nodded confidently. “Well explain then, why would I be the melody?”

“Well truthfully, you just remind me of music. Like the parts of it that can be addicting but also more soothing than anything else, even the part of it that moves you to your core.” He met their eyes, holding the contact as he tipped his head to the side. “Yeah… just the embodiment of music. But if you were to fit somewhere specifically it would be the melody.”

They opened their mouth to ask him another question so he could talk about this more, but the sound of the front door opening and closing caught both of their attention with Phil’s voice following after.

“Y/n? Wilbur?”

“Down here!” Y/n called, leaning back to look over at the stairs. Phil made his way down the stairs and stalled as he looked over the scene of the two but just smiled.

“Hey, I’m going to start cooking. You two take a break and come help me, alright?” He told them before heading back up the stairs. Poppy, who had been fast asleep in one of the plush chairs, had perked up when hearing Phil and jumped off and ran past Y/n and Wilbur to follow him upstairs. They both put away the couple of things they got out before walking upstairs and to the kitchen.

“But seriously Wilbur, you’re doing really well. You kept going strong no matter how many times you messed up. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you Y/n, maybe I’ll get better than you.” He teased, shoving them lightly with his shoulder and earning a shove right back before they walked ahead of him to see Phil. He was already busy dicing an onion with some meat already cooking.

Phil looked back when the two approached him but quickly turned back to watch his hands. “What were you two up to? It looked like you were teaching Wilbur guitar.”

“They were and I have to say,” Wilbur leaned on the counter beside Phil. “I think I’m doing pretty well. In all honesty, I think I might be a melomaniac.” He looked over at Y/n and looked them up and down with a smile, but turned back to Phil and talked about whenever he found interesting from learning to play the guitar as if what he did never happened. 

-

“Come on, just look through it with me please!!” Wilbur begged Y/n, walking around in front of them to stop them from walking out the door as he held a thick book in hand.

The whole morning he had been trying to get Y/n to tell him what their favorite song was and as soon as he got the dreaded ‘I don’t know’ he raced to find the biggest music book he could so they could find one to show him. They were supposed to go practice magic with Phil as soon as they were done eating and didn’t want to leave him waiting any longer than they had to.

“I’m sorry, I can’t right now. Look I will once I’m done I promise!” They pushed his arm gently to get him to move, but all they got was a pout out of him. They rolled their eyes and sighed, taking a step back. “Okay um, I remember a song in one of those books. It was one of my favorites to play. Uh, one of the lines was… ‘days fade into a watercolor blur’ but I can't remember the name right now, can I go?”

“Yes! Absolutely, thank you my melody, I hope your magic lessons go well!” He patted their back before he raced off past them and assumably down to the basement, leaving them very caught off guard.

“Melody..?” They stood there thinking for a moment, but shook it off and headed out of the door to find Phil. He said he’d be sitting with the chickens that morning so obviously, that was their first place to look. Just as expected, he was sitting in the dirt with a rooster in his lap and a few of the rooster’s hens hanging around. Phil glanced up and when noticing Y/n he smiled and waved them over.

“Hey! Sorry, I meant to be here sooner but Wilbur was insistent that I show him my favorite song from my music books.” They explained, walking slower when they neared Phil as to not disturb the chickens and sat down in front of him.

He chuckled and watched the rooster as he pets him. “That’s quite alright mate. He’s really taken a  liking to you, I’m sure you’ve already been able to tell though.” He just smiled fondly, taking in a deep breath. “He never has been one for keeping his feelings hidden away, just like with Sally, the poor boy wears his heart on his sleeve. I bet he doesn’t even realize, he probably thinks he’s being so sly.”

Y/n laughed a little bit at his assessment. Phil was spot on, but after raising someone it wouldn’t be too hard to know all about them. They reached out when a hen came out to them and stroked the side of her face with their finger. “He’s sweet though, I didn’t expect him to be so eager to take up all my time.”

“Well…” They looked up at Phil when he trailed off then followed his eyes when he looked over to the house. They then noticed Technoblade sitting beside the house, obviously meditating. “In case you get tired of Will, you can always go give Techno some company. I think he’d like your presence.” Turning back to Phil, he watched them with a hopeful expression but dropped it when they just stared at him. He slowly got up, giving the rooster time to hop off his lap.

“You don’t have to for my sake, I just think it would do him good to have a partner- er uh-” He stopped, fumbling over words a little bit. “I mean- like a friend. A companion. But choose who you wish! I’m not picking sides here.” A blatant lie. They couldn’t help but laugh at him.

Y/n stood up, assuming Phil wanted to move somewhere else. “Of course, Of course. I think it would be hard to get tired of him though.” They watched the hen they were giving attention peck around on the ground near their feet. “He’s giving me a new found passion for music because of his excitement towards it, it’s refreshing.”

He chuckled softly, walking past them and patting their shoulder. They turned to follow him and stayed quiet while they walked slightly behind him but at his side. He stopped at the tree line and looked in, seeming a bit lost in thought, and turned to them after a moment.

“Y/n, would you mind telling me about the eye?”

They went quiet, not sure how to respond as the light heartedness of the situation was stripped from them at the mention. Instead, they looked down at the necklace which forever hung around their neck. At this point, it felt more like something chaining them down than a tool to help them be a better mage like they hoped it would be. “Where do I even start?” They tried to laugh off the lump rising in their throat but looking up and meeting Phil’s worried expression just made tears prick their eyes. He took a step closer to them, but they took a few back in response. “No, no I’m fine just… I’m okay.” They kept their eyes on the ground, sniffling as they felt a tear run down their cheek.

“Mate, we don’t have to talk about it if it’s hard to.” Phil said softly, keeping his distance from them.

“It just… made me realize how afraid it made me. It's…” They looked up suddenly, still having tears in their eyes. “Phil, it’s taken over me. It’s- it’s possessed me! I was so scared when it happened. I mean it has only happened twice but what happens when it does again!? I don’t- I-I don’t know…” Their breaths got caught in their throat and they took short shuddering gasps trying their hardest to contain it and not break down. Not here, not in front of someone they just started to know and trust. They felt their legs start to get weak and their vision was nothing but a blur from the tears.

Phil grabbed ahold of their arms and they met his eyes, now noticing how hard they were breathing. He pulled them in and hugged them tightly to which they held onto him, using him as a solid form to help them ground themself again. They mumbled small things about how scary it was to wake up halfway down their forest path to town and how they could feel the evilness of the eye right before it took over. He stayed quiet and listened to them, rubbing their back slowly once they had calmed down a little.

They took a deep breath and rested their forehead against his shoulder. Finally releasing a little bit of the pent-up fear and anxiety that was building up around the eye had lifted the static that festered in their chest. “Phil…” Y/n said quietly as they slowly pulled away from him though they kept their eyes averted away. “Is there anything I can do to get rid of this?”

“I…” He started but trailed off. It was clear he was clueless, still, he cleared his throat and reached over to rub their arm comfortingly. “I’ll figure something out. I promise.” They looked back at him and he smiled at them which finally earned a small smile in return. “Do you still want to learn some magic? I know some music-related spells.” When their eyes lit up a bit, he chuckled and took a seat on the ground, ushering them to join him.

Y/n spent most of the day outside with Phil. He taught them little spells and tricks to incorporate magic into their music, he sang a few songs as a way to show them and it turned out he had a rather nice voice. A few times when they got caught up in emotions, he offered fatherly advice and joked with them to lighten the mood. He was quickly growing to be like the father they never had… or at least remembered having. It was until he was in the middle of meditating with them that Tommy came up to them, he was dirty and holding onto his forearm with a bit of blood that was seeping through his fingers. Y/n saw him first as they opened an eye when hearing footsteps approaching them. He kept his eyes on the ground, clearly trying to make it seem like he didn’t have tears in his eyes.

They jumped up and ran over to him, startling Phil who finally noticed his son. “Oh, Tommy what happened!?” They reached over to look at his arm, he pulled away at first and they looked at him. He met their eyes and sniffled again, finally letting his arm go to show them a deep cut that was actively bleeding. “Oh my gosh, are you okay? You’re not hurt anywhere else are you?” They asked him while taking off the cloth they were using as a belt and wrapped it around his arm to help maintain the bleeding and checked him over right after. Phil was beside them now, looking Tommy over while he stared at the ground.

“I didn’t think the sheep could actually be that scary, I-” He hiccuped a little, squeezing his eyes shut to stop himself from crying more but they fell anyway. It seemed that getting hurt overwhelmed him. Phil brushed some of his hair back and softly consoled him to calm him down. It took a moment, but he started talking again. “I was messing with them and tried getting on one’s back, it bucked me off and that upset a few of them and they ran at me. I was running away and tried jumping over the fence and that… obviously didn’t go well for me.”

“Aw… yeah it’s barbed wire. Let’s get you inside, I can help you clean this-”

“It’ll take too long, it’ll get infected if we let it be.” Phil butted in and moved Y/n’s hands off of Tommy’s arm. He undid the cloth that was thoroughly bloody now and gave it back to Y/n. He gently put his hand over the cut and kept it there as it glowed a soft white, within no time he took it away and the wound had closed up enough that it wasn’t open. “You’ll still need to clean it but-”

“Oooh! It’s been forever since you’ve done that, that was so cool!” Tommy said excitedly, his eyes and nose were still a little red from crying, but he was smiling and looking at Phil with bright eyes like he wasn’t upset just a second ago. “Can you do that again?”

“Wha- no! You’d have to get hurt again for me to do that- and do not go get trampled by the sheep or some shit.” He sighed, lightly laughing. “You little shit- are you alright though? You’re not hurt anywhere else right?”

Tommy shook his head and looked down at his arm, wiping away some of the half-dried blood that only smeared more from the blood on his hand. “I probably have some bruises, but now I just smell like shit.” Phil laughed and went around him, patting his back and pushing him forward to get him to start walking back to the house to which Y/n followed right beside.

Techno seemed to know something was up as he put down the wooden staff he was training with and hurried over to the three of them. “Did something happen?” He immediately noticed the blood on Tommy and grabbed his shoulder to stop him and looked him over.

“He’s fine, mate, don’t worry. I healed him up, he’s okay.” Phil said in a hurry to cure Techno’s worry. 

“Haha yeah bitch, now I’ll have a badass scar like you.” Tommy said with a smug look, but Techno just rolled his eyes and gave him a little shove.

“It’s only badass if you have a cool story behind it.” He corrected and held his head up to look down at his brother. “What’s your super cool story behind it?”

Tommy puffed his chest out and stood tall to try and seem as big as Technoblade. “Yeah, well I had to fight off all the sheep in the pastu-”

“Okay! Nope, inside with you!” Y/n grabbed his arm and pulled him away and toward the steps of the porch. “You two can continue your little… whatever this is inside, you need to get cleaned up.”

He groaned and made a face at them. “Yeah okay, MOM.” He snickered and rushed inside with Phil following after with a smile. They followed the two, watching Techno jog over to grab the staff he left before he started walking back to the house.

Y/n grabbed herbs and soap once they got into the house and helped Tommy clean himself up before they sent him off to bathe. They washed the blood off of their belt the best they could before they went back downstairs to put away their things by themself before hearing a knock on the wall. Turning around, there was Wilbur beside the stairs watching them.

“Hey there.” He started with a bit of a smile and walked over to them to watch where they were putting everything. “Um, once you’re done, want to come see what I’ve learned today?” He watched them expectantly and they couldn’t help a smile. They reached into a barrel and pulled out two apples, throwing one to him without warning though he still caught it.

“Yeah, let’s go. Bet you’re still not as good as me.” They walked past him and nudged him with their shoulder playfully. He chuckled and followed behind with a poke to their arm.

“Mmm yeah we’ll see about that, won’t we”

___________________________________________

taglist:

@can-i-fangirl-yet @spitrot @sproudi @omgthatonenerd06 @acemt @wahman @m-etr3m8 @pog-sad-muffin @quiche-inoya @lea-the-foxe @sbi-is-my-onlysanity @smolspoopy @confused-soot @p1gst3p @silvemistxe33 @cl0udy-grey @sweetchillipeppers @sharpcheese @aplaintart @thegeekisheere @vampirestrawberries @ishouldhavegonetobedsixhoursago @butter-lunch @logsteadshir3 @perytavern @sourparrot @childaintit @aikochan4859 @lukathecrime @fallxnly @novelist2 @ahmya-4 @little-gremlin-in-the-walls @supersecretsmutandco @the-flowerghost @cawcaw-pretty-thing @l1ttlepup1 @elias-code @ineedsomeconfidence @danielles-artroom @pineapple-banana-pie @ohnosiren @azilne @simp-of-newyork @shiroships @spac3goblyn @dominickle @whatever-happened-to-the-ducks @theseventhreincarnation

[nctrice]

Professor Jaehyun x Female Reader

Rating: 18+🛑

Word count: 2K

Content: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, dominant Jaehyun, praising, teacherxstudent, dilf Jaehyun, slight public intercourse

Disclaimer: I do not own Jung Jaehyun nor claim him in any sort of way. This Fanfiction is made up out of pure imagination and is strictly just fiction.

A/N: this is my first time writing for this tumblr platform and please give strict constructive advice if needed! Thanks!

___________________________

"Gosh he's hot!" I whispered under my breath gazing upon the dilf himself, Mr.Jung or in other words my calculus professor.

He stood tall and confident in front of the oddly huge white board, broad shoulders facing the class until he eventually turns around to ask a random student to answer the question that I had yet to even realize what it was. He swiftly scans the multiple rows of seats depicting who had been paying attention and who hasn't. I slowly began to sink in my seat avoiding be called on at any cost.

"Ah, y/n! I see you there! Come up here and answer this question for the class." He demands in a polite manner.

I had no problem with it of course, until he said to come forth. This is a first he's ever asked anyone to write the actual answer. My heart pounds within my chest, praying I don't make a fool of myself walking down or back up these unnecessarily wide stairs.

Mr.Jung steps aside and greets me with his well known charming smile. The amount of times this man alone has made me want scream to knock all the built up nerves out of my body. He made me feel more than just butterflies, I couldn't quite put a finger on it.

"Need help?" Mr.Jung folds his arms stepping closer.

"N-no thank you, I'm sure I got it."

My hands fumbled to reach for the dry erase marker he held out for me. It was a bit warm considering he's been holding it for more than half the class. I took a quick glance at the question, immediately regretting what I said. I did indeed need help, and I don't got it. I'm sure he could tell I was hesitating as my finger sits comfortably above my top lip.

'here goes nothing.' I thought before writing what I thought was the right answer. Mr.Jung examined the question, "close but not quite. The answer was -9, you forgot to subtract this which why you got -2. Try another easy one similar to this."

Bullshit. This question didn't look no where as easy. If I mess up again oh well, it's not like he'd pop out with another question to further embarrass me. As I thought long and hard about the problem, it began to feel like it was just us two. Him applying an uncomfortable amount of pressure with just the distance between us and me panicking underneath his anticipated stare.

"Not quite right neither, it'd be best for you to stay after class you seem to be having a lot of troubles."

Mr.Jung wiped the whiteboard free of any writing once I answered the last question and moved on with his lessons. I barely made it to the first step before he had wrote the next problem to briefly go over thanks to me. His words far more stern and exaggerated in attempt to sub me. Out of my entire time being in his class this had been the most I've ever seen this man share eye contact. Yet, it wasn't sweet and kind, more like curiosity had taken over and he couldn't get why I answered both questions incorrectly.

That exact thought had been on his mind throughout the rest of the class. A part of him felt anxious to know what it was that made me fumble at the problem that he knew I could solve perfectly fine on my own.

______________________

"Alright you all have a great rest of your afternoon and please do study for this upcoming test. It'll be more than 40% of your grade!" Mr.Jung announced as the classroom flooded out the doors, All except one person.

"Ms.l/n,"

He heaved a deep sigh, shoving his hands into his almost too tight dress pants pocket. He paced around his desk before sitting directly on the rounded edge. He looked dramatically intimidating, like he wanted to degrade you the moment he could.

"Is everything okay? You're normally really good with math. It hurt me to see you troubled with such an easy question."

My hands couldn't help but fiddle with the zipper sewed into my bag. How was I supposed to tell my teacher that he was the problem. Not in any sort of bad way, and not in any good way neither.

"Yeah I'm fine, just had a rough week." I lied.

"You seem kind of tense. Am I making you uncomfortable?" He innocently spoke while his eyes examined my body for some type of body language.

My knees buckled, hands folding anything to keep me calm, and not mentioning my blushed face. I was 100% sure that my face was completely flushed a crimson red. There was no denying it.

He didn't wait for an answer, and simply lowered his curtain covering the window then locked the door. I was unsure of what his intentions were but my mind was far off somewhere it shouldn't be regarding the fact that I'm just his student. The thought of him shoving all of his folders and papers off his desk and pinning me clouded my mind. My dying fantasy to have the slightest interaction that no other girl has ever had with him.

"I'm all ears. That's if you're comfortable with telling me of course." He knocked me into reality as I began to feel guilty for thinking negatively of his intentions.

"I'm not sure I can be completely honest." I mumbled beneath my breath breaking eye contact.

"And why is that?"

Mr.Jung held his arm out for me to grab. With little to no hesitation at all, I placed my hand in his. His thumb grazes over my knuckles a fee times until his eyes darted up towards mine.

"Cause I'm in no sort of position to have such thoughts."

I simply remove my hand from his grip feeling the tense sensation overwhelm me once again building up the need to put an end to this. He sensed it immediately.

"Turn around."

"Huh?"

"I'm not gonna say it again." His voice had more depth and demand stringing to it.

I did exactly what he said, no questions asked. His hands set firmly on my shoulders guiding me closer towards him until I felt the warmth radiating off of his body and onto mine. His thumb running deep circles into my shoulder blades releasing the tension that remained.

"Now tell me what position you feel you need to be in."

His hands made its way to my spine tracing all the way down to my waist before kneading my lower back.

"Missionary?"

"That can work too but I meant regarding to what you said. What position do you need to be in to have such dirty thoughts?"

By now, you were inches away from in between his legs, as much as I wished to be in this dearest situation, my first instinct was to freeze up. Was this really happening?

"I'm just your student. The things I want to do will ruin your career." I admitted.

He hummed at my answer willingly holding my waist and pulling me directly into his lap. I felt the slightest bulge poking me through my thin leggings. His head rested onto my right shoulder sending shivers down my back.

"There's nothing wrong with the student getting a little extra lesson with chemistry." He bluntly stated right beneath my ear.

I began to feel throbbing and anticipation between my legs.  Or maybe I had just noticed it now. His hands ventured from my waist toward the hem of my leggings, thumb pushing past my leggings and rubbing the outline of my panties. My stomach bursted with butterflies under his touch. He bit his lips as he felt the smooth lace of my underwear.

"Good choice Ms.l/n," he huskily whispered.

"Tell me about how you fantasize about me in explicit detail if you would."

My chapped lips parted realizing a deep breath I held in since he began to touch me in the ways I haven't yet imagined. His fingers trailed down to palm my womanhood gently creating the knot in my stomach.

"You had me alone like now, desperately removing everything off the desk to pin me down. Ripping my shirt in half as you cupped my boobs. One hand busy playing with my nipples, the other rubbing rough circles on my clit as you told me come."

He chuckled in response as he removed his hand from me and remained silent. As much as I wanted to turn around a catch a glimpse of his face, I was already too embarrassed sharing my intimate dreams with him.

He bit his lips dauntingly, "can I?"

"What?"

"Can I make that dream a reality?"

He slightly nibbled onto my ear, heat fuming from my dripping core soaking my panties by the second. I silently nodded afraid to speak at all. "I want to hear you say it, can I touch you?"

"Yes, Mr.Jung."

"Good girl, just for this I'll allow you to call me Jaehyun okay baby?"

I nodded once again holding back the whimpers threatening to leave my lips. His hands rubbed my ass gently getting rough within seconds, groping me every chance he got. The bulge teasingly poked at my core as he undid his pants lowering his draws enough to let his member spring free; slowly stroking himself onto my ass. Jaehyun grunted as the friction increased. His fingers tugged the the hem of my leggings sliding them down to my knees locking them in place.

"Damn you're sexy." He moaned taking in the sight of my now exposed ass. He stroked himself aggressively before tracing my spine with his fingers and bending me over. His other hand pushing my panties to the side as he inserted double digits into my soaked core curling his fingers and his thumb circled my clit. My breath became unstable panting like there was no tomorrow.  My walls clenched amongst his digits fighting the urge to come.  "Mhmm I-I can't hold it." I moaned balling my fists up against my knees for support. He took his digits out sucking every ounce making sure I heard the slurping noise before he lined himself at my entrance.

I inhaled a sharp breath as he entered his tip inside me. I had no clue how big he was but felt my walls adjusting to the girth of him. I bit my lip, holding back from the moans. His hands firmly placed on my hips as he shoved the rest of his large length inside me. I let out a small gasp followed with hitched breaths as his length reached what felt like my cervix. "Shh, you don't want no one to hear you don't you?" He whispered stopping in his tracks for a split second. He pulled almost all the way out coated with your juices only just to shove his length in back in reaching spots he may have missed.

"Oh fuck." Jaehyun groaned thrusting sluggishly. My walls clenched around him causing his grip to tighten on my waist. Tears streaming down my face in pleasure. He picked up the pace being careful enough to refrain from making any clapping noises. As much as he want to rail me until my eyes rolled back and seen stars he couldn't, not in this environment. Yet it was still enough to satisfy the both of our needs. Soft whimpers were the only thing he'd allow out of my mouth, anything louder than that he'd immediately pull out as a sign of punishment. His hand left my waist grabbing fistfuls of my hair and yanking it to see my fucked out facial expressions.

"Jaehyun." I breathed out as he rammed into me.

"Ms.l/n, you dirty little slut of mine, Ms.l/n you feel so good taking all my length in your wet pussy." He groaned aggressively in my ear pounded into me completely forgetting the fact that we were in his classroom. ~

"Ms.l/n! Please stop zoning out in my class!" Mr.Jung semi-shouts jolting me out of my day dream.  I immediately fixed my posture examining the dozens of eyes all drawn towards me including Mr.Jeong. He cocked an eyebrow at me before running his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"See me after class." He demanded and continued on with his lesson. And just like that, I added on to my series of fantasies with my Calculus professor.

.

[gogglor]

Cap-Ironman RecWeek: What-If Wednesday

Time for another installment of @cap-ironman rec week! Today’s theme: AU’s.

I know AU’s in different settings are half the reason most people read fanfics, but they’re not really my thing on the whole. AU’s where different choices are made, or different events transpire? Absolutely. Coffee shops? Not my cup of... you know.

So, here’s my AU recommendations for mostly “turn left” scenarios. This time with an under-the-cut break so I don’t take over everyone’s timelines (sorry about that last post). Also with some summaries truncated for length.

Alone Like This

Author: GotTheSilver

Word Count: 7,452

Summary: Steve, post waking up, runs away from SHIELD, and Tony's the one who tracks him down.

Why You Should Read It:

First off, GotTheSilver’s been consistently and regularly putting out solid Stony since 2012 and not only are they not stopping, they’re only getting better. This writer doesn’t get nearly the fanfare I’d expect in Stony circles for someone who puts out this much good stuff, and here’s hoping this post can be a part of changing that.

While I am always a sucker for enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, there’s something to be said for stories where Steve and Tony hit it off right away. And watching these two very different people look at each other and see the same sense of being lost, then finding each other again is... excuse me, there’s something in my eye, ignore me.

Second Chance Lives

Author: raeldaza

Word Count: 43,872

Summary: Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?

Why You Should Read It:

This writer doesn’t write a lot for the MCU but when they do, dang.

“Tony is the one helping Steve acclimate to the new century before Avengers 2012″ is a whole genre of Stony fanfics that scratch an itch I didn’t even know I had before I started reading fanfiction, and this is one of the best ones out there. It’s got it all - Steve poorly coping with his PTSD, Tony poorly coping with his immanent mortality, some breathtakingly poor communication between the two most emotionally stunted men in the MCU, and a cat named Roomba. What’s not to love?

Should You Choose to Accept It

Author: elwenyere (look, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of them this week, sorry-not-sorry)

Word Count: 27,106

Summary: After a terrorist attack and a field operation gone wrong, the Avengers realize that Nick Fury's secrets are just the start of a much bigger mystery. Steve and Tony try to keep some things from each other as well, but that can't possibly affect the mission — right? Mission Fic + Getting Together (or Mission: Getting Together) that mashes up elements from Iron Man 3, CA: Winter Soldier, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. season one, and Mission Impossible 3.

Why You Should Read It:

You can see my post yesterday for singing El’s praises, but what I really liked about this fic was how how damn creative it is. The CAWS/IM3/AOS mashup is everything I wished the actual MCU gave us and more, with well-developed characters and an exciting story to put them in. And because it’s El, you know the banter’s gonna be on point, the way the characters care for each other is gonna be emotionally constipated but touching, and the pacing’s gonna be exciting enough to draw you in and keep you there. Also, this fic doesn’t have nearly enough kudos so please go read it and fix that or I’m gonna have to try to hack AO3 and that’ll just be embarrassing for all parties involved.

What Happens In Vegas

Author: sabremc

Word Count: 161,951

Summary: “What the hell, Tony?” Rhodey demanded brusquely.  Tony winced and drew the phone away from his ear.  “You’ve got cops and Feds all over the hotel.  I’m watching you perp walk out of the police station on repeat on CNN.  They’re saying you tried to bribe Stern?  Fox News has you selling weapons on the black market, and God that picture they’re using is the one from Bali in ’09.   You look like shit.  They wheeled Stern out and put him in an ambulance, by the way.  Got some paparazzi swearing you decked the guy.  Now they’ve got ‘copters following it like he’s OJ.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Sourpatch, I’ve got it covered.   Uh, though, I should probably tell you that, purely in the interests of national security and the greater good, I kind of had to fake marry that stripper-gram  you sent.  Thanks for that, by the way,” Tony added quickly.

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re deep enough into Stony to see posts like this on Tumblr, you probably know sabre’s what we in the business call a “big name author.” They’re prolific, they’re popular, and most importantly, they write words good (technical term). Seriously, sabre just keeps cranking out high quality stuff over and over again, raising the bar for the rest of us like a jerk (not really. I’m not bitter they write stuff so good I wish I’d thought of it first. Not at all.)

I never read stripper!Steve or stripper!Tony as a rule, but this came so widely recommended that I broke that rule and boy am I glad that I did. This is also the only fic on this list that’s a true-AU, with Steve being a non-powered vet from Afghanistan who left his army career to help Bucky and is stripping in Vegas to raise money for a prosthetic arm. He’s booked to do a private show for Tony, shenanigans ensue, and now they’re fake-married. This fic’s got some top-of-the-line banter and character development, but I particularly love it for its rich setting. Sabre paints a Vegas not just with strip clubs and blackjack tables, but KISS-themed minigolf, romantic dinners on the Eiffel tower, gaudy hotel lobbies, and making out on giant ferris wheels. It’s such a richly developed playground for the characters to play on, and through it, Steve manages to find a life for himself he’d given up on, and Tony finds multiple ways to show his kindness and depth of feeling for Steve. I know the word count’s long for this one but trust me, you’ve gotta read this fic.

Wait & Sea

Author: Lenalena

Word Count: 53,244

Summary: In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

Why You Should Read It:

This one’s old and popular enough to be considered one of the “classic” Stony fics, and for good reason. Lenalena doesn’t write too often and not as much as they used to, but the fics they have up there are an absolute delight.

This is another fic that I skipped a bunch of times for being outside my comfort zone, but when I finally read it I saw why everyone’s so wild about it. In this story, Steve’s defrosted a bit earlier and not revealed as Captain America. He and Tony are sent undercover to sniff out Hydra shenanigans on a cruise and, because it’s fanfiction, they’ve got to pretend to be a married couple while onboard. There’s tons to love about this fic, but the things that bring me back to reading it over and over is first, Tony’s kindness and the way he’s attuned to Steve’s feelings, which... God, just inject “kind, observant Tony” straight into my veins, please and thank you. This is also another really rich setting for a story, and Lena knows how to fold the the hokeyness of the cruise into the seriousness of the mission and the depth of feelings Steve and Tony are finding for each other in a really beautiful, layered way. It’s funny, it’s heartfelt, it’s steamy, it’s gripping... why are you still reading this here? Go check it out for yourself!

Ashes to Ashes

Author: dirigibleplumbing

Word Count: 51,582

Summary: After regrouping following some surprise time travel, the world's heroes and sorcerers come up with a plan to protect the Mind and Time Stones by taking them into space in opposite directions. The result involves a lot more time loops than Steve would like, but at least they're getting a second chance to stop Thanos. (As well as a third, and a fourth...) And if Steve takes the opportunity to try to reconcile with Tony, too—well, they have the time, and Steve's going to make the most of it.

Why You Should Read It:

Dirigibleplumbing’s another name in Stony fanfics that does not get nearly as much fanfare as they deserve. They’re consistently a really creative voice in Stony fanfics and I always look forward to their stories showing me something new. Go read all their fics, I need more people to geek out with me over them.

I tend to limit myself on Steve-and-Tony-mend-things-after-Civil-War fics not because they’re not good, but because they’re so heavy, and also the Sokovia Accords have five hundred layers of crap in them that no good fic could possibly hash out well. This one, though? When you add in the Infinity War/End Game fixit? Poetry. Art. Music to my ears. DP wrote a really engaging, twisty story where it’s hard to predict what’s coming next, in spite of it literally being a pseudo-Groundhog day scenario. The characterizations are great, the story is engaging, and the feelings are big and sad and eventually happy. Go read it, you’ll love it.

I have tons of other recs for this category but this seems like a good place to stop for today. Tomorrow’s Alternative Media Thursday, and I’ve got some real gems I’ve been saving for that day (aaaaand possibly a self-rec or two ;)

[starlitangels]

In honor of the 100k, let me tell a little story. Which, I’m aware, I do all the time as a fanfic writer XD But this one is my story

The story of how I got here, anyway.

I’ve been writing stories since I was 8 years old. They weren’t good, back then, and the older I got, the more I wrote but the less I could focus on one thing. I write one-shots for a reason. I have a hard time finishing multi-chapter fics—especially if I start them with no clue where they’re going or what’s gonna happen in the middle. I had (who am I kidding? have) dozens of novel ideas sitting in my hard drive nowhere near completed because I struggle so hard to focus

When I was 16, I discovered fanfiction. I started with long-forms and slowly transitioned over to one-shots as I made a little nook for myself on Tumblr when I was about 18. I’ve never really looked back. I still write my original projects sometimes. Some weeks they consume my life.

But back in October-November (2021), when I was barely a few months out of a long medication-induced depression (yay side effects), I wasn’t writing. At all. It’s been my only major hobby since I was 14. I still do other stuff like paint and doodle and knit, but writing has always been where my creativity liked to play. Not writing and not knowing what to write and not having anything to write that felt inspiring was making me spiral.

Not externally. My husband never noticed and I never told him. It wasn’t a big deal. Feeling “burned out” over a hobby that did little more than while away a few hours of my day wasn’t a big deal on the outside

But on the inside I was panicking. What if the thing I’d spent the last, like, fifteen years of my life doing suddenly lost all its joy and I never wrote again? What if I never felt excited enough about something to pour my soul into a bunch of one-shots again? What if I never found relief and release from writing again? (Writing is also my therapy and helps me process my emotions and the world around me)

I was so, so damn scared that I was about to lose all the passion I’d ever had for the only hobby I’d ever really spent the time trying to develop. Because... what would I be without my words? Who was I, without writing?

One night, in late November, I couldn’t sleep. I’ve always had trouble sleeping, so that alone wasn’t much different from usual.

I’ve been listening to ASMR since my freshman year of college. My apartment was right next to the freeway and I couldn’t sleep without my headphones in but music was usually too much. I started with, like, Guided Meditation channels before I found ASMR and that tingly feeling I get in certain situations finally had a label and I realized it wasn’t just me that got that feeling (trying to explain it to my family was... next to impossible—none of them get the response). I moved from ASMR videos to the audio-only stuff... my junior or senior year of college after discovering SalemAudio and Hollow_ VA. A few other channels joined as the next couple years came through. Namely Ycey Narrates, Siren’s Son ASMR, and Good Boy Audios.

Not long after those three joined my subscribed list, I started getting recommended “Redacted ASMR.” I know now that the ones I was getting recommended were Sam’s videos. At the time I was hesitant to click on any of them because I know I’ve got a Lore Gremlin brain and I didn’t want to get consumed by needing to know all the lore with none of my old passion behind it, the way I was moving through the rest of my life. And, also, I saw the “Parental Advisory” label that gets slapped onto music album art in all the thumbnails and was hesitant that there might be... uncomfortable subject matter, I guess is the phrasing I’ll use.

Back to that late night in November.

I was scrolling through recommended videos under some ASMR audio-only I’d just listened to (Ycey, I think?), and saw a video titled “Listening In On Your Boyfriend’s Thoughts” published “1 Day Ago” and with Telepath Listener in the thumbnail.

That caught my attention because I wanted to know how someone would pull off telepathy in an audio medium.

So, I clicked it.

And I loved it.

And I wanted more of it.

So, I started listening to more and more of this channel. I’ve always been a fantasy-lover, and the magic system hooked me in immediately.

And my passion came back. I wanted to write again. I felt inspired. I fell in love with the characters and the world and the magic (both literally and figuratively) in that world. And there’s been so much variety that I never feel bored

And everyone in the Tumblr fandom helped too. I’ve mentioned before that I never got the response I get here in any other fandom I’ve ever been in and that’s 100% true. I’ve made friends in this fandom—people engage with me and send me random headcanons—and draw the Pups I made up completely unsolicited just because they liked the thing I made (never happened to me before and I’m still wowed by it)!!! 

And that has helped me so much. I feel like my writing is worth something again. It’s always been worth something to me, but the point of art for me has always been to share it with others. I grew up surrounded by music and art and stories. I was always taught that art is for yourself, but it’s also for sharing.

And you guys have enthusiastically let me share my art (both the... mediocre doodles and the one-shots) with you and been so kind and welcoming and engaging with me.

So... yeah. This is the first time in years I’ve found a story that has made me really want to dig in and write for it, and every single person who’s been kind to me since I turned up here has had a bigger part to play in that than they might know.

I recognize your URLs when you ‘like’ my stories. I smile like a giddy schoolkid every time someone clearly just found my blog and scrolled either the blog itself or my fic tag with reckless abandon, ‘liking’ everything in their path I cannot express to you properly how much that makes me smile. I still get surprised when people respond to questions I post or just send me asks unsolicited with headcanons or TikToks that are absolutely the Redacted characters or my Pups omg—because Tumblr used to just be me screaming into a void. Now I feel like people actually enjoy my presence to some degree, and that is so fulfilling to someone like me

So thank you all. It’s been a short but wild ride, and here’s to it being much longer, and just as wild!

I’ve told bits-and-pieces of this story before on this blog, but here’s the raw truth of it.

[historyman101]

This Tumblr blog is retired.

No, this is not clickbait. This is real.

And no, I’m not nuking this blog off the internet. But I will no longer be actively posting.

Read on below, if you care.

To get right to the point, this is a decision that I have thought about for at least a year now if not more. Several factors influenced this, but chief among them was how the site is little more than a ghost town. Whenever I post there is barely a peep or any kind of feedback. Not dissing the people who do give me likes and all that, it’s just the reality of the website now. 

Another major factor was...well...all the friends I made on this site are gone now. They’ve either left Tumblr, fallen off the radar, cut ties with me or have simply migrated to other platforms. The group of friends I had on here has whittled away and the ones I still do keep in touch with are now on Discord, essentially eliminating the need for me to talk to them through Tumblr.

In addition, Tumblr as a website has been on a very long and very slow downward trend really ever since the apocalypse happened in 2018. You know the one. The one that the devs finally reversed, almost three years after the fact when the site has lost most of its userbase. Nice job breaking it, staff. I had half a mind to leave right then and there but I stayed on because, well, I still had some attachment to it. I still do now, but it’s been hard to keep that up as the years go by. 

While I haven’t been posting as often, one thing that has continued are the angry messages and PMs from people picking a fight with me about drama in the Astral Army server and about Eureka 7 in general from five years ago. Yes, I know, you’re all sick of hearing about it. I’m sick of talking about it. Even when I have long stopped talking about E7 and I posted about something completely unrelated like my recent overseas vacation, there were still people trying to gaslight me. I really do wish people would just let that drama go and leave the past in the past. But I guess that’s just too much to ask of some people. I won’t name any names, but to those people all I have to say is this: Grow the fuck up. Get over it. The world has moved on and so have I.

While I’m on the subject, I might as well say this now. To the people who knew what was going on and stayed silent, it really would not have been hard to disavow or condemn what was happening. And no, I don’t mean a mealy-mouthed, anemic “people should just be nice to each other” kind of disavowal. I mean “what’s happening to Historyman is wrong and it shouldn’t be happening at all. People need to chill out, check themselves, and leave him alone.” That’s all you had to say. That’s all I ever asked. Was it really that difficult to do? 

If you try to come back to me on Discord with some weak explanation, spare me. I don’t want to hear it. You had plenty of chances to curb this and you did nothing. Your silence was deafening and now, I’d rather you stayed silent.

Ugh, okay, enough bitching and moaning. I want this last post to be pleasant.

I started this blog when I had finished college in 2012 when Eureka 7: AO was still airing. I was in the middle of rewriting my historical fanfiction series set in World War II which got me tons of attention and introduced me to many cool people. I still talk with a few of them to this very day, 10 years later. In the time I’ve been on here, so much has changed both in my life and in the world in general. I wrote not just one, but six books, including my historical series (still aiming to get those published by the way. I’m not giving up!). I lost my father to heart failure. I traveled to so many exotic and fascinating places. Germany, Russia, the Czech Republic, Austria, Hungary, Switzerland, Hawaii, and most recently, Ireland and Iceland. I earned my masters’ degree from one of the top graduate schools in America. I got a job in a field that I love and have dreamed of all my life. And now, come next year, I’ll be a homeowner. 

On Tumblr, I almost religiously followed developments with Eureka 7 and forged some tight bonds with fellow fans, some of which last to this day. I watched the fandom thrive despite AO’s failings, slowly disappear in the following years, and then rise like a phoenix for Hi-Evolution before it disappointed us all and splintered it possibly forever. I can still remember vividly the close friends I made in that community, all the talented artists I met and worked with to create fanart for the historical series, and the many nights spent in tinychats having fun. Ever since Hi-Evo came out and after my public divorce with the Astral Army, there is still a group of people who want to paint a picture that I caused this fandom to fall apart. That somehow, whether due to my own personal vendettas, my own aggressive nature, or something else entirely, the decline and fall is on my shoulders. Obviously, I reject those accusations in full, but I also have stopped trying to make my case because frankly, it’s too exhausting. If people want to think of me as this fandom’s devil or Judas Iscariot, fine. It’s not like I could do or say anything to change their minds anyway. All I will say about Eureka 7 is the following.

I still owe a lot in my life to that anime. I owe it my presence on Tumblr. I owe it my surviving friendships. I arguably owe it my writing career. While I can’t help but be sad about how the franchise has gone over the last 15 years and how it’s all ended, I am still deeply thankful and grateful to have watched it when I did. It will always be my favorite anime, the series that made me into an anime fan. I will forever be an Eureka 7 fan, even if the fandom no longer includes me. To my long-lost friends in this fandom, I hope that you continue to prosper and thrive, wherever you are. To those who call me their enemy, I’m sorry things turned out how they did. I’m sorry for all of it. But like Renton and Eureka, it’s time for me to leave the nest.  

While Eureka 7 is what I was most known for, I did delve into other anime as well. I wrote reviews for the latest hits like Violet Evergarden, Maquia: When the Flower Blooms, Demon Slayer: Mugen Train, and Fena: Pirate Princess. I even watched what is possibly the worst anime ever made, Ex-ARM. But as time has gone on, I find myself less inclined to keep up with modern anime and write reviews for the latest show. Maybe it’s because I’m older. Maybe it’s because I have a busier life than before. Maybe I’m just jaded from the constant and unceasing barrage of new anime that get buried half a season later by newer anime. Either way, nowadays I only rarely watch whatever anime comes out these days; it’s largely what catches my interest and if not that, then older titles. In fact, I’ve told my friends lately that enough anime has been made that you could watch just older titles and get more entertainment from them than any of the newer stuff released in the last 5 years.

Apart from anime, my writings occupied a lot of my time here. Like I said it’s what got me my start and my initial wave of attention. The Historical Eureka Seven series took me five years to do, starting in 2012 and finally concluding in 2017. I have been quietly editing the series for publication really ever since its conclusion and if I posted it now on FP or AO3, it would read extremely differently. As of this post, there is only one book left to edit. However, I have also been writing other stuff too: What Is It All For, a historical romance set in the Spanish Civil War; and Welcome to Wakeford, my first foray into horror. However, in the time since I became gainfully employed, the time available to write the long, expansive epics I used to write has greatly shrunk. I am now at a place where, while I still have a multi-volume novel series set in the Napoleonic era planned (and yes, I’m going to talk about that in a moment), I don’t have the time to write as I once did. In fact, recently I have struggled to get a short horror story done in time for Halloween. I will have to reschedule it for next Spooky Season. Smaller projects seem to be more manageable for me these days even when things get in my way like work, a vacation, and a really bad case of the flu.

To the Frev/Napoleonic Community: don’t think I have forgotten about you. I know full well that people still want to learn about what I’m doing regarding the Jozef Poniatowski Saga. The Polish Bayard’s time will come soon enough, but that’s the thing. Like I said before, my time to write is limited these days, as is my time to conduct research. I still have a day job that requires my full attention. Quite frankly, my situation with that has been nothing short of a whirlwind in the last six months. I had to relocate to the DC metro area and pretty much hit the ground running in my new position. Things can still get hectic at work even now. I’m not saying that to make an excuse or to issue false promises but merely to give you a sense of where my life is right now. I am still committed to sharing Poniatowski’s story as I think his is a tale well worth telling. But like everything else I’ve written in the past, it will take time. This is more than just another historical fiction for me: it’s ultimately a return to the multi-volume epic wartime romance story I used to write. That kind of project requires a massive commitment of time. When Pepi’s time will come, I cannot say for sure, but it will come. 

One thing I’ve learned in the time I’ve been on Tumblr in general is to be humble and self-critical. I always go back to my previous drafts and find something that I could have done or said better. There are things I firmly believed to be true only to be told point blank that it was absolutely false. And yes, you may not believe it, but there are things I have done and said in the past that I do regret. If I could take one thing back, it wouldn’t be one thing; it would be a million things. There are those who I’ve pushed away because I was either too blind to understand what was happening or just too stubborn to admit I was at fault. To those people, even though I most likely will never see or hear from you again, I am sorry, and I wish I could take it all back. My only hope is that your lives are happy and fulfilling.

I’ve also learned that to survive you need to roll with the punches and take life as it comes. Don’t let the distant, abstract things in life get you down. Whether that’s from a troll who won’t let go of the past, an anime franchise that’s decayed and fallen to ruin, a worldwide pandemic, or even just the fear of your own mortality, the best thing you can do is live your life one day at a time. There are always going to be disappointments, but there’s no sense in wallowing in that self-pity and misery. The best thing to do after falling down hard is to get right back up and keep walking. If your legs can still move, then use them.

Before I end this long goodbye, I want to clear some things up and let people know what’s happening. Like I said before, I’m not deleting this blog. I will keep it up if only out of posterity. There is a lot of history on here and I don’t want that to just be erased. In fact, there are still some people who interact with my posts even now. 

I will not be migrating to any new platform. I am not going to Twitter, aka the most cancerous cesspool on the internet. I will not stream on Twitch because the way they enforce their TOS makes me fear I would get shadowbanned right off the bat. I’m sticking to Discord because that’s where all my friends are, and it’s where I’m most comfortable. I will also keep up all the old stories I wrote on this blog as I know for a lot of people it’s really the only way to find them. I will NOT be updating this blog with new projects going forward. However, if any of my followers or friends in Discord want to post my work on their pages, they are more than welcome to do so; I only ask that you tag me in any posts you make. 

For anyone who still wants to keep up with what I do, writing or otherwise, Discord is the best place to find me. Even if you don’t want to join my server, you can hit me up privately. My username is same as here, and my number is #2503. Don’t be shy; I may not answer your PMs immediately, but I do read every message that is sent. I always welcome new friends to chat with. 

To be honest, this still feels kinda surreal. I still can’t believe I’ve been on this platform for 10 years. This feels like I’m closing the book on one big chapter in my life. But at the same time, closing one chapter means opening another one. Whether it’s an exciting pulse-pounder or boring filler remains to be seen, but all I do know is that I have to leave something behind to start that chapter. And this tumblr is it.

I will always have fond memories of this place, even in the bad times. I will cherish the friends I made here, remember the laughs I had, and keep all those memories close as I move onward. To all my followers, new and old, thank you for your continuous support and dedication. You have no idea how much that meant to me.

May the road rise to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May you get it by your hands. 

Don’t beg for things; do it yourself, or else you won’t get anything.

Until we meet again, drink on, old friend.

[poptod]

Pull the Stars Out of the Sky (And Gift Them To Me), (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: The new Pharaoh has a bit of an obsession problem.

Notes: i suppose this would technically be yandere but i really dont want to admit that i wrote yandere fanfiction about a childrens movie WC: 4.6k

+

He called himself a savior. His people called him a God. Thus he acted as a sort of savior God, decked in gold, more powerful than the kings of a hundred foreign lands. He kept his friends close as he had no enemies, those in power too afraid to stand up to his might. 

It was not as though he was undeserving of this title––quite the opposite. He dug his country out of a dangerous recession that followed an invasion by the Hittites. He defended his status as Pharaoh against his tyrannical elder brother, who had attempted to claim his rightful place on the throne. He brought great prosperity to his people and maintained his image of regality, the untouchable air around him, as though the Gods truly did walk the earth in the form of him. 

Here he was, the most powerful man to walk the earth, coddling you as his fingers ran through your hair.

The decisions that brought you to this moment were poorly thought out at best and downright shameful at worst. Your home in the southeast of Africa now lay what felt like eons behind you, hazy memories of chains and scuffing, bloodied feet whirling in your head. Even in your village you knew of him––not by name, of course––and had already grown to fear him. By the time you got out of your home village and began going market to market, you knew to stay clear of him at all costs. But his dirty soldiers were everywhere, and constant vigilance brought you back-breaking stress that had your steps faltering. 

Your stumbling was what brought you here. Stumbling into prison, stumbling into a palace, stumbling into a King's chambers.

"Aren't you just gorgeous," he cooed softly, petting your head. 

The rough, uneven pull of your breath was the only disturbance in the peaceful room, bathed in warm light and Egyptian paintings. Every nerve in your body screamed to get away, to worm yourself out of his touch, but with every attempt he just held you tighter. 

"What's your name? You look hungry," he said, eyes scanning your panicked face. "Would you like something to eat?"

Punch him. Talking to you like a dog.

You shook the thought out of your head, but the Pharaoh took it as a nod of confirmation. 

"We'll get you some food," he decided with a smile, separating from you long enough to stand and pull you up with him. 

He did not part his hand from yours, instead leading you through the long, tall hallways and their arches that painted scenes from stories you didn't know. Your past excursions to Egypt had hailed no such royalty, nor did any of your other travels. Most of the time you stayed in hostels and taverns. The grandeur and sanctity of churches and temples were as close as you got to this, standing on the cusp of a garden that stretched further than you could see, the white alabaster pillars lining your vision. 

"Come," he said, and you thought it best to try not to disobey him. "This is a food garden. You can eat anything you like."

It had been a while since you'd gotten a good meal. The last thing you ate was hardtack from a tavern about a six-hour walk down the river from here. 

The Pharaoh followed closely behind as you moved forward, constantly looking over your shoulder as you scanned the different vines and bushes. It was the color that caught your eye––most of the plants along the Nile sported an olive-type green, dull and yellow-ish. Many of the leaves in this garden were a bright green, more so than moss and grass, lively and soft beneath your fingers.

Only after scanning the whole of the garden did you decide on what to eat. From blossoming flowers in the water that lined the walkway to the figs hung high on the trees, you chose plums sprouted fruitfully from a short tree.

You sat right where you stood as you began gnawing at the flesh, tangy juice dripping from your bite marks. After a moment of watching you the Pharaoh lowered himself to your height, earning a chary side glance from you. 

"What is your name, lovely?" He asked again, much softer, as he once more began to pet your hair. Most other times you would've shaken the hand off, but most other times it wasn't Pharaohs touching you. 

"Amoke," you said through a rough throat and full mouth. Your voice had remained unused since you stepped foot in jail, and it was only now that you were reintegrating its' use.

"Amoke," he repeated, nodding. "A western name. Is that where you're from?"

You nodded.

"Do you like it there?" He asked quietly.

You shrugged.

"I should like to keep you here, then," he murmured, gaze flickering to every feature on your face. You watched his interest closely.

What came to mind was that you didn't want to stay here––that you wanted to keep on the road, stay away from the permanent and escape the inevitable routine. You couldn't say that, though. Not to his face. With nothing on your mind but leaving him and his touch, you remained silent in the wake of his request. 

The sun soon set behind the garden's walls, casting long shadows that consumed the both of you without fail. When the residual light of the sky began to fade, he took your hand, paying the stickiness no mind as he led you back into the palace.

"I shall keep you in my room," he said with a firm confidence in his tone that stewed in your empty chest. "If ever you need something, just tell me. I can give you anything you desire. During the day you should stay in my room as well––it's safer that way. I'll be able to keep you safe."

From what?

Fifteen years travelling the world on your own and now you're forced into a single room for your 'protection.'

"My name is Ahkmenrah, though most call me by my title. 'My King,' and such. You may call me what you wish. I don't mind," he said, a smile crossing his features as he opened the door set in front of you. His eye only tore from you for a second before his attention was back, scanning the way you stepped nearer to him and into the room. 

The once-bright light of sunset had vanished in his bedroom, replaced by the eerie purple of a late dusk. Outside the balcony arches, the sky bore an ombre of plum and blush, reaching up into the dome where stars had already come to see the world.

"I know your name already," you murmured, staring out to the city. His eyes remained ever on you, burning the back of your neck. "I know you freed many of your slaves but kept worker camps in Kush. I know you intimidated every nation so severely you can do anything you want now. It's not like anyone will stop you."

"You're knowledgable," he said, taking a seat on the floor.

"Is that what's happening here?" You asked, but he didn't quite understand. At his confusion you sighed but continued. "Am I supposed to be intimidated enough by you that I will stay here of my own free will?"

He furrowed his brow, tilting his head ever so lightly to the left.

"You... don't want to stay here?"

"No. I have a life that I'd like to get back to." Much of it being avoiding you.

"I don't understand," he said after a beat of silence. "You want to leave? But – there is nothing in the world I cannot give you here. Any riches you want, yours. Any delicacies are yours."

Ahkmenrah collected things. Already it was clear enough to see––collect and retain an image that prevents any fight against him, collect the riches of the world to give to his people and himself, collect the respect of those around him, and collect you. He will share with you everything he has gained if only you join this ever-growing, ceaseless collection of belongings. There is nothing stranger than being offered to become a toy.

"I prefer to keep moving. Meet new people," you said.

"You'll be safe here," he said, reaching for your hand. You instinctively pulled your hand away, but a sudden poisonous glare overtook his eye, and your heart froze in its' place long enough for him to gracefully lead you to your knees.

With you now raised on your knees, he met your height, nuzzling your cheek with his nose. 

"I don't need to be –"

"You will stay here," he said, his intensity thrumming in your nerves. Once again there was no thought more comforting than leaving this place.

He must've noticed the panicked look on your face, as his expression softened.

"Do you understand? Oh, lovely," he said in a hum, fawning over you as his touch overcrowded your senses. His nose rubbing up beneath your jaw as he nuzzled into you, his hand holding your hip tight as the other tangled in your hair. He took in your scent with deep appreciation. "Sweet darling.. pretty one."

His mumbles grew less coherent the longer he held you, dusk fading into midnight as the silence of crickets resounded in the distant flora. The tension in your chest never fell, leaving you exhausted with your stiff breaths, bags beneath your eyes begging you to fall asleep, even if it was in the possession of another.

From waking up in an underground prison to mistakenly entering a King's chambers, the day weighed heavy on your mind with little solace at the end. Still, the body has its' cravings that will never relent, and you fell asleep to the rhythm of his praising murmurs and stroking hands. 

Even hours later you awoke to arms still twisted around you, keeping you pressed tight to the warmth of the Pharaoh's chest. Hunger bit at your stomach, acid burning around the empty walls in a sweet reminder of your recent diet. Two-ingredient crackers and two plums in the last two days. You supposed that you wouldn't have to worry much about that in the future, so long as you stayed in his graces. While you doubted he would withhold food from you as punishment, you wouldn't put it past him, as it was a common jail tactic in many cities.

Wandering had been your sin for many years before this moment, and it would continue to be so whether or not you gave into the urge. Being stuck in any place––even one so comfortable as this––itched at your skin, tugged at your motionless legs and pulled at your scattered fingers. Despite your original insistence that you should stay still, your foot began to gently bounce as your fingers fidgeted restlessly. Your eyes darted every which way.

"I see you're awake," he mumbled, voice barely there in the first dregs of morning. "Stay a little longer."

Not that you really had a choice. His legs were all tangled in yours and you could barely move.

For what seemed to be another hour and a half you lay there, wondering when he would wake again and finally release you. He couldn't keep you here forever––not sleeping with him, not in this palace. It was clear he would not willingly let you go, so in the meantime ideas stirred in your head, plotting out ways to escape without his knowledge.

A knock came from the door when rays of sunlight began to touch the bedroom floor, flooding in through the arches. You wriggled when you heard the sound, disturbing Ahkmenrah from his sleepiness, which at last led to the loosening of his grip. The moment he went lax you tore yourself away.

Breath finally returned to you, the long hours of night fading away as your chest heaved an even up and down. The blankets around you fell as the Pharaoh stood, making his way to the large doors, where he removed the lock to let in a lean servant.

"Good morning, my King," he said, his gaze naturally coming to you. He stared at you but addressed Ahk, his words concise and posture straight. "You have a meeting with the embalmers of Thebes this morning, on the false accusations. After that you have –"

"– to overlook the temple building in the markets, yes, I know. My memory isn't that bad," Ahkmenrah grumbled, sighing deeply as he rubbed his face with his hand.

"Apologies, I just..." the servant's eyes flickered to yours, "didn't know if you.. drank last night."

"Just a glass, Naguib," he said with a slight smile, one that fell once Naguib began to root through his wardrobe.

You watched from your spot on the floor; the glint of gold in the closet, the mirror perfectly reflecting the King's standing position. His reflection yawned, dreary eyes meeting yours with a gentle delight. Instantly your vision darted away. 

"Amoke, this is Naguib," he said, and in that moment you forced yourself to turn back to him. He was smiling expectantly, the servant behind him waving a polite hello. You returned the wave and he appeared to be satisfied.

Naguib picked the King's clothes and donned them on him, from the lapis beaded collar to gold cuffs on every wrist and ankle. The cape that streamed from his shoulders was a light all its' own, as though Ahkmenrah wore the sun upon his back, the silk drifting in gentle waves towards the marble floor. Only the crown was more regal than that, but above all was the man himself. The sweet coos and fawning words of the previous evening had faded into a stone face, pride on his puffed chest, and cunning on his parted lips. 

"I'm afraid I'll have to leave you here for the day," he said as he stared at his reflection, smoothing out the wrinkles in his sleeves and the unevenness of his necklace.

"But –"

"No," he interrupted you before you could truly start, voice dipping low as half-lidded eyes turned to you. 

There was something about his stare––something about the way he looked at you, as though he knew every thought in your head. This must've been the look that, in part, earned him his reputation. 

"Stay here, pet," he said in a softer voice, bending down to kiss your forehead.

His lips were warm and enviously soft on your skin, but you had little time to process it before his cape whipped behind him, leaving you alone in the room. Naguib had left with him and locked the door. Now the only sound to calm the incessant ringing in your ears was the incredibly distant murmurs of an early-morning market, filled with birdsong and calling voices attempting to sell their work. 

Fumbling to stand, you padded with bare feet towards the open arches. From here you could see the Nile and the many temples sprouted up throughout the city, their towers marking themselves distinct from the houses cluttering the twisting streets. It wasn't all unlike the other cities you'd seen––a different architecture style, of course, but similar nonetheless.

The arches had no railings of any sort, so as you peered over the edge, you kept both hands on the pillar beside you. Right beneath the Pharaoh's room was a garden, smaller than the one you had visited the night before. 

It wasn't too far down, either.

You darted back into the room, pulling the thin blankets off the bed and off the floor, tying the ends together with frantic hands. Even your breath hastened to match your heartbeat, speeding dangerously in your chest as apprehension filled you. There was no time to waste––you needed to escape now, before he came back, before you had to memorize his routine; before this became more than a two-day problem.

Guards in their uniforms passed by outside, circling the palace with spears in their hands. You glanced out at them as you worked, trying to find the rhythm in their marching, and having little luck before you realized there were multiple groups passing by the arches at different times. A soft groan left you as you bit your lip in irritation. More things to calculate.

Although the ground didn't seem all too far away, it took a decent amount of time before the makeshift rope could reach the ground. Several hours of rearranging the types of knots and their placements finally wrought good results––the lowest blanket could now touch one of the trees near the garden's entrance, which you could use as a way down.

The sun had to be around midday, going by the shadows, and you assumed the Pharaoh would not be back to his bedroom until later in the evening. Before you could stay to see that time, you tied one end of your blanket rope to the arch's pillar and casted the length of it below you.

Hesitation caught you as you attempted to climb down, the sheer height of the building catching you off guard. What once seemed a short way was suddenly a means of death––not that it wasn't ever that before––and you could barely breathe with how tight your throat became. Your shaking hands gripped the cloth tight, sweating with the tension building in your muscles. Gentle breezes only accentuated your sweat, but it was not of import to you. All that remained on your mind in the overcrowding of fear was the need to escape, and thus you returned to your task, carefully scaling down the palace wall.

Nothing but silence dared make a sound in your thoughts as you climbed, breath evening further with every step you took downwards. The anxiousness only faded once you could see the individual leaves of the tree below you, and the design of the blanket stretched out on its limbs, crimson red and gold in the sunlight.

The moment you could reach you did so, clambering onto the thin branches in hopes of swinging towards the thicker ones. As you reached for the next branch, another hit your wrist, pain instantly shocking your left hand out of its' grip. Fortunately you caught yourself; just barely, and a second later you dropped to the ground with a huff.

You ran.

Without thought you ran, as fast as your feet could take you, as far as your lungs would allow. Air began to sting in your lungs, wind biting at the back of your open throat as you bounded through the halls, praying you wouldn't meet anyone on your way out.

The Pharaoh and his power was intimidating, no one could deny that, but your fears remained centralized in the idea of being known. You scarcely gave your name and hated living on in memory. Your own world was perfectly fine and you found no need to exist in anybody else's, no matter how much Ahkmenrah wanted you to.

But of course your stumbling would get you. As your thoughts were occupied, you paid little attention to the road in front of you, toppling over a railing you hadn't noticed yourself barreling towards. You tried to catch yourself with bulging eyes, but the ceiling was fading with mortifying speed. Bile filled your mouth as a sickness invaded your stomach.

Cool water splashed around you, soaking your clothes and skin alike as you sunk into the pool. Vines entangled you, the legs of lily pads separating in your wake, their flowers naught but silhouettes above you. A shadow appeared above you, but before you could make any decision it grabbed your upper arm and forced you out of the water.

"Ohh, dearest," sung a voice, accompanied by the close cradling of your body despite it being soaked. The sick feeling in your belly grew into a poison as recognition came to you. Your muscles tensed again in his grip, every nerve fighting against a fleeing instinct.

"My King, isn –"

"Quiet, Gyasi. My poor, sweet love... what are you doing here?" He asked, his hand coming up to stroke the hair away from your face. "I told you not to leave the room."

You shivered, leftover adrenaline sending shakes throughout your body. It left a tense silence where you would originally reply.

"You feel cold," he said, though you didn't feel at all cold. "Let's get you cleaned up, hm? I ought to do it anyway, since your clothes are a little torn."

He brought you to your feet, keeping an arm around you as he patiently led you away from the pond and those gathered there. Most everyone stared at you as you left, but you could barely notice, your vision blurred and hazy.

Steam filled your senses in the room he led you to, warm and scented with honey and lavender. Your eyes opened there, head raised to see the servant women working, stoking the fires and heating the water. Beside you, Ahk motioned to one of them, mumbling something in her ear that sent her out the door. Though curiosity did come to you, you kept silent in the unease of the Pharaoh's presence.

He had yet to accuse you of trying to escape, but it was only a matter of time. The rope in his room was still hung off the balcony. That fact kept you wary as much as it kept you jumpy, something Ahkmenrah unfortunately noticed.

By the hands on your shoulders he led you to a bath dug into the raised floor, the water inside steaming pleasantly with the scent of honey. Reluctantly you began to peel your clothes away, all too aware of his eye on you, memorizing how you stripped yourself down. As you dipped into the water, you attempted at removing the sick irritation you connected with him staring at you. It would happen quite a lot more (whether or not you wanted it to) before you could leave this place.

"Do you have any injuries?" He asked as he moved to sit beside you, his golden robes dirtying on the floor.

"I don't know," you said hoarsely.

"I'll have one of our physicians look over you. That was a long fall," he said, leaning forward to kiss your forehead again, before standing and leaving you to the care of the servants.

As promised, a physician visited you shortly, scanning over you while one of the women scrubbed at the dirt beneath your fingernails. The heat of the water calmed your muscles, untensing your anxious grips even as you were bombarded with questions.

By the time the servant women had dried and dressed you in new clothes, the Pharaoh had yet to return from whatever excursion he had left on. It didn't bother you, considering you didn't especially like being around him, but it did leave you wondering as you lazily watched the servants. Even if you wanted to leave you couldn't; you had no idea where in the palace you were, and there was a fair amount of guards wandering around outside the room. You bit at the inside of your cheek.

A good while later––far past the midday when you'd first fallen––he returned with singed clothes, ash covering his face. Your eyes widened at his appearance, and he was quick to notice your mild alarm.

"Incident at the, um, Bastet temple. One of the new priests really likes working with fire," he mumbled in a dazed voice, shaking his head as though he was trying to shake himself back into his body. "Are you alright?"

You nodded.

"Good. I've got most of the rest of the evening free, so let's get you back to my room, yes?"

It took quite a lot of self-control not to spit in his face, and much more willpower to slowly nod. He would accept no other answer and the suggestion of such would land you in unknown terrain.

He led you back down the hall, and each step you took burnt your regret into the ground beneath you. If one could identify the scent of fear, it'd be coming off you in floods, obvious in your panicked eyes and hastened breath. He would find the rope, and he would no doubt be angry. None of this would have happened if you had just watched where you were going.

Panic saturated your heart, functionally marinated it, as Ahkmenrah reached forward to open the door in the middle of the hallway. Every click of the latch had you flinching, till the door swung open and the light of late-afternoon hit your eyes.

The rope tied to the arch was inconspicuous, but the absence of nearly all the blankets in the room was not. Slowly the cogs in his brain sped up, and in each passing second you could see further recognition in him, till his eyes turned to the rope knotted around the pillar.

He said nothing––simply moved forward, glanced out and down the balcony, and turned back to you.

"You were trying to escape?" He asked you, nothing behind the tone of his voice, which might as well have been as bad as any anger he could've unleashed.

"I told you I could keep you safe here," he continued, and you, in your head, connected dots that suddenly appeared. He would never let you outside his room now––now that his point has been proven. "See what happens when you disobey?"

You blinked and he was standing in front of you, close enough that every inhale of his chest brushed against your shirt. At first you tried to step away, but he moved to cup your face, keeping you frozen in your spot. Your terrified eyes stared into his.

"The next time you try to leave here without me, I shall have to intervene myself, if you do not hurt yourself on your own as you so often do. Do you understand me?"

You nodded. There was nothing else you could do, not with your throat so tight you could barely swallow.

"I obviously cannot trust you," he said, his gaze flickering between your eyes.

He left you standing in the middle of the room as he went to one of his chests, pulling and unlocking the latch before the creak of hinges sounded in the room. You turned to watch in both interest and worry, patiently waiting for his reveal, before he turned back to you with rope in his hands.

As per usual, your first instinct was to bolt out the door. Your feet practically itched with the tension stored up in them, but you stayed perfectly still, terrified into submission as he pulled you forward. You almost stumbled, but before you could fully do so he pushed you onto his bed. Quickly you moved from your stomach to your back, creeping backwards on the bed as he drew nearer, the rope drawn taut between his hands. Kneeling on the bed with his head held high above yours, he was an opposite from the lovesick King you had first met.

He tied your wrists to the bedpost and you let him. He pulled the knots so tight and intricate there was no hope you could get out without breaking the rope, and you let him.

"I can keep you safe here," he murmured, lodged between your legs with his lips against your temple. Your heart stormed hell in your chest. "You will stay here. Any attempt on your behalf to leave and I will have to punish you. Understand?"

"Then I am a prisoner," you said, your voice hoarse and broken.

"You are what you make yourself," he said in a much more stern tone, looking down at you with knowing, wary eyes. "If it is a prisoner, then so be it. But you will be, throughout all actions and situations, mine."

"I..."

"You belong to me."