#just click on the title and it should lead you to the fic!

[koroart]

I’ve been reading @damnilovefaerghus ‘s amazing fic Shield of Faerghus, Stone of Hope and it inspired me to make this piece!! This is the most characters I’ve ever drawn but I’m pretty excited to finish it!

Definitely give their fic a read too! ✨💜

[nostalgia-tblr]

.

[dnfao3tags]

Finding Deleted Fics: A Multi-Method Guide

i feel like we are the fandom who needs this post the most any fandom has needed it ever.

all of these methods require you to know the title, author and/or link of the fic.

[disclaimer: the fic i am using as an example is not deleted, i just can't think of any other fics to use as an example right now.]

Method #1: Wayback Machine

this is my go to method that i always try first.

steps:

every fic on ao3 has a url of archiveofourown.org/[specific-numbers]. you're gonna need that url, doesn't matter if it doesn't work anymore.

eg.

2. now you're gonna go to archive.org and enter your url in the search bar.

3. something like this will come up. it probably won't be saved as many times though, just once or twice.

just click any of the links now, either the dates marked blue on the calendar or the earliest/latest date. that's it.

drawbacks:

often, a problem arises when searching for fics rated mature or explicit.

the site will have archived this page but not the actual fic. though, maybe lady luck is on your side and clicking proceed will lead you to a saved version of the actual fic. but usually not. and not all fics are saved here. in those cases, i have some more methods.

Method #2: Search Engine Cache

search engines like google and yandex often save a cached version of sites, though yandex is much more reliable than google. i'll give you a tutorial for both.

steps (yandex):

the link isn't completely necessary, just the title and author of the fic will suffice.

go to yandex.com and search for your fic by either entering the url or entering the title and author as such.

3. this will probably immediately come up.

just enter the captcha and it should let you in on the first go but there's a glitch i've encountered where you could be entering the captcha completely correct but for some reason the site still won't let you in. for that, you just have to keep trying again and again until eventually the site lets you in. might take more than 10 tries.

4. once you're in, search results will pop up. directly clicking them will only lead you to the not found page. what you're gonna do is hover over the box of the search result and you'll see 3 dots pop up on the right.

click those and a dropdown menu will appear. click the first option 'saved copy'.

and thats it! this is a much more efficient method especially for explicit or mature fics.

drawbacks:

for some reason, when i open yandex in google chrome, i can't see the 3 dots. i can in firefox though. don't really know what thats all about.

i'll show you how to do it with google too just in case yandex doesn't work.

steps (google):

in the url bar, type cache:[link of fic]. that's pretty much it. google doesn't have a lot of fics saved though so you'll probably get a 404 page.

Method #3: Reddit

there's a subreddit called r/DeletedFanfiction that can probably help you out. either search for the fic as it may have already been posted or req it and someone will probably get you a google drive link soon enough. u/throwthisaway11112 is my lord and savior.

afaik it's still up and running fine despite the reddit protest thing (which i recommend taking a minute to look into).

Method #4: Archive.org Database

okay, now you're gonna need a lot of memory on computer for this one. i'm not gonna even bother and try to explain it, i'll just link you to the original post. thank you once again to the anon who sent me this method!

Method #5: Fandom

if absolutely none of those methods work, you can still just send me an ask and maybe my followers or i will have a saved copy. same for any other fandom, i recommend asking around in popular fandom spaces, someone is bound to have it.

[weemssapphic]

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 17

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

summary: you finally get a chance to paint Larissa (smut ensues).

words: ~ 3.1k | ao3 link in title

A/N: once again thank you to @afeatherformills for all of the planning and beta-ing, and to my gf as well. i drive both of them crazy and am eternally grateful that they haven't yet told me to stick this fic where the sun don't shine :')

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

That Saturday you were deep in thought as you navigated the halls of Nevermore, making your way to Larissa’s office. So deep in thought that you hardly noticed Enid walking past you.

“Hey!”

Your head snapped up and you looked around for the source of the voice. Finding it, your face softened and you stepped towards the blonde. “Enid. You okay?”

She hesitated for a moment, her face falling a bit. “Yeah, I guess. Thanks for convincing Weems not to expel us.”

You laughed. “I didn’t have to convince her of anything. Is she really that stern?”

Enid’s lips curled up into a smile. “Sometimes. She can be really cool, but sometimes she’s a bit scary.”

“I’m sure it’s just because she cares,” you replied - truth be told you’d seen Larissa’s ‘scary’ side in action when dealing Wednesday, and you could certainly understand Enid’s point. But as long as Larissa’s anger wasn’t directed at you, you thought your girlfriend was kind of hot when she was angry - a fact you decided to keep to yourself.

“Maybe.” Enid shrugged. “Say hi to Weems for me.”

“Sure,” you replied, feeling yourself blush. As you were about to say goodbye, you were struck with an idea. “Wait.”

You reached into your bag, with Enid watching you curiously as you pulled out your sketchbook and flipped to a random page, scribbling your number on it and tearing it out.

“Here. If you guys are in trouble again, you should have someone to call.” She took the paper with a shy smile. “I’m never going back out there again. But… thanks.” Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she entered your number and shot you a text. “Now you have mine, too.”

“Thanks. Stay safe, Enid,” you teased gently, earning yourself a giggle from the young girl.

~~~

“Come in,” called Larissa’s smooth voice as you knocked on her office door minutes later.

You did as you were told, closing and locking the door behind you. The sound of the lock clicking was not lost on Larissa, who looked up from her laptop with a smirk plastered on her face.

“Hello, darling,” she purred, her fingers pausing in their frantic typing as she waited for you to cross the room, drop the large canvas bag you were holding, and give her a kiss. “Pretty girl,” she mumbled against your lips as she pulled you onto her lap. Deepening the kiss, she flicked her tongue against yours, drawing a breathy moan from your throat which she swallowed eagerly. Her hands came to rest on your thighs, rubbing circles overtop your trousers as her breathing became more shallow. 

You chuckled into the kiss, pulling back reluctantly - Larissa let out a little whine, pouting slightly as she stilled her hands in their movements.

“Rissa…” you whined playfully, wrapping her arms around her neck. “I wanted to paint you while we still have some natural sunlight.”

“Mmm, I know, I know.” Larissa sighed, resting her forehead against yours and sliding her hands up to your waist. “Just tell me what you want from me, I’m all yours today.”

“Thank you.” You smirked, pressing a kiss to her cheek and whispering in her ear - you didn’t miss the shiver that ran down her spine as your warm breath hit the side of her neck. “I actually had an idea for what I wanted to do, may I ask you to accompany me to your bedroom?”

Larissa threw her head back as she laughed, squeezing your waist. When her laughter died down and she locked eyes with you once more, you were met with amusement and desire in equal measure. “Lead the way,” she replied with a smirk as you slid off her lap and held a hand out for her to take, grabbing your bag with the other hand.

She placed her palm in your own and stood, following you to her quarters and straight into her bedroom. “And what will you have me do in here?”

“Well I noticed that the light that comes in here in the early afternoon would be perfect for painting you.” You placed the bag you were carrying at the foot of the bed and looked around the room, your eyes falling to Larissa’s vanity. “Can I move this?”

Larissa chuckled, eyeing you curiously. “That’s fine…” She helped you clear it and drag it to the end of the bed, then sat down at the edge of the bed, kicking her heels off and watching you set up your tabletop easel, a canvas, and your paints. “And how will you have me pose? Would you like me naked in my bed?” she asked playfully.

“You know I would never object to having you naked in your bed,” you teased back, watching Larissa blush, her lips curling up into a shy smile as her gaze dropped to her lap. Once you were satisfied with your set-up, you stepped in front of Larissa, placing a finger underneath her chin and lifting it until her gaze met yours. “I was thinking we could get rid of some of these clothes though…” 

You gave Larissa’s collar a playful tug, receiving an eye-roll and a fake-annoyed huff in return. With a soft smirk playing on her lips, she undid the belt of her dress, then the top buttons, then tugged it over her head, dropping it onto the floor. 

“This too.” You snapped the strap of her bra - she reached behind herself, unhooking her bra and tossing it onto the dress.

“And let me help you with these.” You hooked your fingers under the waistband of her underwear, never breaking eye contact as you dragged them down her legs. You could see her lips part, her tongue darting out to wet them as she spread her legs open for you. When you dropped the underwear to the floor and stood again, you found yourself standing in between her thighs. Larissa’s hands came to rest on your hips, her eyelashes fluttering as her gaze flicked down your body. 

“You know it’s more than a little unfair that you’re still fully clothed, darling,” she husked, watching you with doe eyes.

“Yeah? I can change that.” You stripped yourself of your own clothing under Larissa’s hungry gaze, tossing the garments onto the growing pile. “This better?”

“A little.” Larissa bit her lip. “I know something else that could help.” You raised an eyebrow as Larissa stood from the bed, towering over you as she straightened to her full height. Grabbing hold of your waist, she spun you around and pushed you back onto the bed before crawling on top of you and looking down at you. “Much better,” she purred.

Smirking, you reached down to grab the backs of her thighs. “If you want to be on top so bad you only have to ask,” you teased. “You know what I’ve been wanting to try?”

“Hmm?”

“Having you sit on my face.” You gave the backs of her thighs an insistent tug. “Interested?”

Larissa let out a little groan, leaning down to capture your lips in a lustful kiss.

“Is that a yes?”

You couldn’t help but grin as Larissa rolled her eyes, shifting so that her bare pussy was hovering over your face, her plush thighs bracketing your head. “Yes, that is a yes, darling.” Her entrance glistened with her arousal, the scent of which was already beginning to drive you mad. You wrapped your arms around her thighs, pressing soft kisses to her skin that caused her to let out little whimpers. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” you breathed - she began to lower herself onto your waiting tongue, which immediately traced a path up her slit. “Fuck, you taste amazing.”

Larissa’s hips found a good rhythm, rolling against your face and matching the pace of your tongue as it circled her throbbing clit. Loud, breathy moans fell from her lips as she cupped her own breasts and rubbed her palms roughly over her nipples. From this angle it was hard to see her face as she tilted her head back, losing herself in pleasure, so you focused on the sounds of her moans and the lewd noises of your tongue against her wet cunt, on the feeling of her smooth thighs under your hands, on the sight of her tits bouncing slightly with every buck of her hips. 

“Mmm you look so good touching yourself like that,” you moaned against her pussy, allowing your tongue to explore her folds before slipping it into her entrance. Her walls clenched around you and her hips stuttered slightly in their movements as she stammered out a breathy reply.

“Y-you feel so good…”

“Look at me,” you commanded, waiting until Larissa’s eyes - dark and hooded - were on you before thrusting your tongue into her hole, as deep as you could. You could see her cheeks flush and her breathing falter for a moment as she adjusted to having your tongue inside of her. You groaned as you watched her watch you, as she rolled her own nipples between her fingers while you fucked her. 

As she bucked her hips against your face you ran your tongue back up her slit, wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking feverishly. Larissa’s movements became more and more erratic, her moans growing in volume as you found just the right pressure to bring her over the edge.

“I’m s-so cl- mmh- close, I can’t - shit-” Larissa’s voice was hoarse as her thighs began to tremble around your head - you could tell she wouldn’t be able to hold herself up much longer. You moaned against her clit, tightening your hold on her thighs in encouragement. Larissa fell forward, catching herself on the headboard and crying out in pleasure as she came, her juices coating your tongue and dripping down your chin.

You continued to lap at her pussy, cleaning her up and simultaneously savoring the taste of her. As you felt her thighs shift slightly beside your head, you helped her swing one leg back over your body so that she could lie beside you, breathing heavily.

You pushed her back onto the bed and kissed her eagerly, swallowing her moans as she sucked her arousal off your tongue. When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of her lipstick smeared up to her nose. 

“Wait here.” Pushing yourself off the bed, you went to the bathroom to wash your face, getting a makeup wipe and a damp washcloth in the process. Catching sight of Larissa’s bathrobe hanging on the back of the door, you slipped it on, taking a moment to revel in its softness before stopping by the kitchen to fetch a bottle of water.

Returning to the bed, you found Larissa watching you with an amused grin on her face, her eyes dropping to the makeup wipe. “You’re still planning on painting me, aren’t you?” she said with a chuckle. 

“Yep - now drink some water and then hold still.” Larissa did as she was told, humor dancing in her eyes as you cleaned her up - first her thighs and cunt, then the bottom half of her face. “Can I redo your lipstick?” 

Larissa blushed and nodded. “It’s in the drawer of the vanity.”

You took your time to reapply her lipstick, careful to get the edges just right. Larissa was a perfect model for you, holding perfectly still and watching you with hooded eyes. You unpinned her hair, arranging her curls over her shoulders until they hung just right, before moving onto the rest of your “scene” - adjusting the sheets until they were draped over Larissa’s body, revealing the tops of her breasts and clinging to her curves. The early afternoon sun filtered in through the window just how you had envisioned, giving you enough natural light to be able to work properly.

She was an absolute vision, the sun illuminating her blonde curls like a halo, kissing the tip of her nose and giving her a healthy glow. Mascara-coated lashes fluttered a bit against her cheeks when the sun got too bright for her eyes, almost pale blue in this light. You laughed and told her to move her head back a bit, an instruction which she happily complied with.

Sitting down at your easel, you wasted no time in beginning to paint - it was a portrait you’d envisioned painting time and time again, and you were thrilled to finally get the chance. There was something about the shapeshifter in this light, with a post-sex glow about her, that made the moment so special to you.

“You could’ve been a model, you know?” you teased, your heart melting at the pink hue that immediately rose in Larissa’s cheeks. Her lips stretched up into a wide smile that made her laugh lines more prominent and caused her eyes to crinkle at the outer corners - all of the little lines that gave away her age only made her more beautiful to you, stealing the breath right from your lungs.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Larissa’s voice was low and sultry, and she shifted underneath the sheets, cocking her head to the side - something that you immediately reprimanded her for, shooing her back into position.

“I’m serious though. Did you always want to become a principal?” You eyed Larissa as her expression turned thoughtful. 

“Not always. What I did want, even in school, was to become a teacher. I’ve always loved working with children, even as a teenager I tutored younger students. But what these kids really need, as outcasts, is someone to advocate for them, and I can do so much more in my role as principal than as a teacher.”

Larissa’s passion for her job never failed to bring a smile to your face, and you glanced over at her between strokes of your paintbrush. “Do you miss teaching?”

“Sometimes…” Larissa’s smile turned pensive, a little sad. “I felt more connected to my students when I taught them directly every day.”

“You really seem to care for them, you know? Like they’re your own.”

“I do… When you get to watch them grow every day over years, they start to feel like family. I’ve always wanted my own…” she trailed off, her expression wistful. A long silence hung in the air and suddenly, Larissa’s cheeks turned red, her gaze dropping to her hands as she began to fidget. “I’m sorry, darling, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She seemed unable to meet your gaze and you cocked your head to the side - the nervous energy radiating off of her was almost palpable. You set the brush down to give her your full attention.

“Why not?”

Larissa’s blush only deepend, and she sighed. “I’m getting too old for that, anyway. I turn 50 next year, that part of my life has long passed.”

“You could still have that,” you argued - with me, you wanted to add, but you didn’t.

Larissa scoffed, waving a hand in front of her face to distract from her (unwarranted) embarrassment. “You’re young - you’ll learn that you can’t have everything you want in life, and that’s alright. My students are enough for me.”

As much as you wanted to argue with her, you remained silent, mulling over her words in your head. The thought of Larissa settling, giving up on her dreams and desires due to something as stupid as age, broke your heart. You wanted kids, too - maybe not right this second, while you were still in college, but you could see yourself in a few years, chasing a blue-eyed, platinum-blonde-haired toddler around the home you’d share with Larissa. 

“I don’t think you should give up your desires so easily,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Larissa. 

Larissa’s eyes darted to meet yours for only a moment before looking away again. She seemed deep in thought, her brow furrowed a bit. Shaking her head gently, she rolled her shoulders back and let out a deep breath, plastering a smile onto her face - it was neither a genuine smile nor a fake one, but rather something in between.

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” you whispered gently.

“You didn’t upset me, my love, that I can assure you,” she whispered back with equal tenderness.

Standing from your seat you rounded the vanity and stepped up to the bed, leaning over Larissa to cup her cheek and kiss her. When you pulled away, her smile was considerably more relaxed, the lines between her eyebrows nearly gone.

You spent the rest of the afternoon talking and painting. Occasionally you’d catch Larissa giving you a once-over, but she waved it off every time. Not wanting to push her again, you ignored it and allowed her to steer the conversation.

Larissa mentioned Mayor Walker’s funeral the following day and you told her you’d be there, as Robin’s family had been quite close to the mayor and his family. When you asked if Larissa would mind you saying hi to her if they saw each other, she chuckled.

“Darling, I think the secret is out - if Enid knows about us, everyone at this school does.”

You blushed a little at that, but Larissa reassured you that it was alright, she’d love to see you - that small fact made your heart flutter, and you ducked your head behind the canvas to stop Larissa from seeing how red you’d gotten as you added a few final touches to the painting.

“There.” You smiled proudly as you looked between the painting and Larissa. “All done - well, not done done. I need to add some details, and I’ll need to finish parts of the background. But your part is done, you don’t need to sit here while I do that.”

Larissa sat up to stretch, the sheets falling off her body to reveal her rosy nipples and the swell of her stomach. She smiled softly as she caught you staring at her. “Put that paintbrush down and come here,” she cooed. 

You did as you were told, getting up and going to crawl towards her on the bed. She gave your legs a tug, signaling for you to straddle her. Her fingers came to the tie of your robe, giving it a gentle tug and then pushing the robe off your shoulders. She leaned in to kiss you, her bare chest pressing against your own in a way that made your whole body shiver.

Smirking against your lips, she wound her fingers into your hair, her nails scratching lightly against your scalp. “How about you let me show you how much I appreciate you working so hard for me this afternoon, hm?” Her words drew a moan from your throat and you allowed her to push you onto your back and have her way with you, kissing her way down your body and eating you out as if you were her last meal until the both of you were absolutely spent.

x

Taglist: @littledollll @nlr-33 @mysaviorfalsegod @imlike-so-gaydude @rainbow-hedgehog @enchantressb @alder-saan @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @amateurwritescm @brienneswife @principal-weems09 @messynessi @larissaoftarthweems @anti-bright-places @lvinhs @catechristiesstuff @ladyzmilf002 @milfsloverblog @opheliauniverse @orangeisnttheonlyfruit @im-a-carnivorous-plant @alexusonfire @bigolgay @kimiinou @wastdstime @scream-queenlover @imprincipalweemspet @justcallmelittleone @willowshadenox @milfsloverblog @leftoverenvy @yahaqueen @peggycarter3 @lilfartbox1 @makemyworldworthliving @crow-raven-crow @mosscoveredcrucifix @opalthefrog @barbarasstar @giogwensversion

[paradoxlemonade]

Like a Flower in Bloom; chapter 2/3

Fic summary: Doc Monster is a many things: he's a tinkerer, a college graduate, a creeper hybrid, and a husband to his wonderful spouse, Ren. Most importantly, he is a father. And he would do anything to make his trans daughter Scarlet happy. Even if it means becoming a Buttercup Scout troop leader and herding a trio of middle school girls.

Chapter Summary: Let's make a troop.

This is my @mcytblraufest fic, made in collaboration with my artist @watchmewhirl and beta-read my @raivaughn. You can find the masterpost for the art here.

Warnings: none!

Ao3: Here!

First - Next

---

Doc pulls into the driveway about 20 minutes later, a bag of fast food sitting in the passenger seat. Scarlet needs some comfort food after that meeting, so who is he to deny her?

She trudges in the front door a few paces behind him. When he glances back, there’s a smile on her face for Ren, but her eyes are red and puffy from crying. Doc gives his husband a pointed look before he can even think of asking how the meeting went.

Instead of prodding, Ren fills the empty space of dinner time with meandering chatter about how his day at work went, a video of a little kitten riding on a dog he saw online, and whether or not ketchup should count as a vegetable. Scarlet’s smile gets a bit less forced as the evening wears on, but it also grows tired and she slinks to her room down the hall early that evening.

Doc carries the plates over the sink where Ren has already started rinsing the glasses. He sets a cup and his rag down, just staring for a moment. “...Now can I ask about how the meeting went?” His ears flatten to his head. “The other girls weren’t mean to her, were they? Middle schoolers can be the cruelest beasts.”

Doc leans against the counter with a huff and crosses his arms. “No, no, the scouts were perfectly nice.” He leans back and scowls at their ceiling. “The troop leader, on the other hand, is a heinous bitch. Excluded her a lot. Transphobic. The works.”

Ren sucks in a breath around his teeth. “Oh, she must’ve been devastated.”

He takes the lead-in to get Ren caught up on everything that happened while they finish loading the dishwasher, including how Scarlet was so torn up about the idea of not getting to be a Buttercup Scout. Devastated she was, no matter how she tried to hide it.

They finish up in the kitchen and retire to the family room couch, a laptop balanced between them. The stark white Buttercup Scout web page drowns out the soft lamplight.

Just like last time the two of them looked, most of the troops in the area fell into one of three categories: far enough that they couldn’t justify the time or gas prices, not currently accepting new members, met on a Tuesday (their standing date for Scarlet’s physical therapy, which they can’t move around due to how busy the practice is), or that asshole Symmetry’s troop, which definitely wasn’t an option. Sure, they could go complain to the local council, but Doc doubted she would play nice if they forced her to let Scarlet in.

“Apparently,” Doc mutters, running a clawed finger down the side of the keyboard, “she overheard us talking about how the other troops around here are a bridge too far.”

Ren winces at that. “Man, we’re running out of options.” He gnaws on his lip a moment, and his ears prick up a second later. “Well, all except for one.”

Doc’s not quite what one would call desperate, but he’s edging closer and closer to that word’s gravity. He gives his husband an unimpressed look. “Which is…?”

Ren scoops up the laptop and rapidly taps away at the touchpad. Tap tap tap, click-clack-click-clack. He turns the screen around after a moment so Doc can read the page title, a self-satisfied smile threatening to break.

How To Form a Troop By Becoming a Buttercup Scout Troop Leader.

Doc looks down at the screen. He looks up at Ren. 

“You’re kidding, right? I don’t want to be in charge of a bunch of brats. Just the one is enough.”

Ren snorts at that, his grin now out full-force. “Brats. Please, I know you love children.”

Doc rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t mean I want to spend one night a week trying to keep middle schoolers from killing each other.” There’s a waver in his voice. He slumps back against the couch with a huff. 

Ren leans over and cuddles up against him, laptop tilted askew by the shift. “But you would do anything for our baby girl. Scarlet wants to be a Buttercup Scout, and there’s no good troops in the area. We told her we would try, didn’t we?”

He’s not actually considering what Ren is saying, is he?

…

Goddammit.

“You’re going to help me with this,” he says dryly.

“Of course, baby!” Ren gives him a gentle kiss on the corner of his lip. Doc can feel the smile through it. “We’re going to be the best troop leaders ever!”

Doc leans into the touch, but the scowl doesn’t leave his face. “We’ll still need to find at least two more girls that we aren’t the guardians of to form a proper troop.” He picks the laptop back up and points to a subheading halfway down the page. Troop Minimum Requirements. “We also need to get certified and set up with the local council, figure out our budget , and—”

Ren reaches over and slowly closes the laptop screen, giving Doc ample time to resist. He doesn’t. “And we’ll get there. Let’s just take one step at a time, okay baby?”

Doc bumps his forehead against Ren’s. “Okay.”

***

They broach the topic at breakfast the next morning to Scarlet, who’s instantly smitten with the idea.

She stands from her seat and plants her hands on the table. “Oh my gosh, really?” There’s sparkles in her eyes. “You’ll form a new troop for me?” Wait, those sparkles are actually tears. Oh dear.

It takes a family hug for her weeping to stop, but she manages not to cry into her bowl of cereal. Her face is red and she’s sniffling, but her gap-toothed smile is one of Doc’s favorites.

“I’ll find you two more scouts! I just have to ask my friends who aren’t already in a Buttercup Scout troop! Or boys!” She makes a face at that idea. “Hang on, that’s most of my friends.”

Doc can’t help but snort at her expression. Despite being told that he and Ren can put up a notice online about forming a new troop, Scarlet insists on trying first and they stand down to her badgering. Arguing with her begging kitty eyes is an exercise in futility.

He digs more into the training requirements while she’s at school and Ren is at work, and makes some decent progress on the first module. It’s a quiet enough day, going between tinkering in their garage and parked in front of the family room computer to watch a video with a droning narrator explaining first aid.

Ren gets home first as per usual, and Doc sets him up with the laptop on the couch (and with a glass of water, and with some beef jerky as a snack) so he can get cracking on the training he needs to do to be an assistant troop leader.

It’s a quiet enough afternoon, the two of them coexisting with quietly-playing videos and the mouse-clicking of going through the quizzes.

Scarlet arrives home not long later with a shout, waving her backpack around like a spoil of war. “Guess who found you your new scout members!” She drops the crutches held in her other hand and swings around. “Am I good, or am I good?”

Ren startles and almost drops his water. “Woah baby, already? How in the world did you do that?”

Scarlet bounces on the toes of her feet. “So I talked to all the girls in my art class, but they all already had a troop or didn’t want to be scouts, and language arts was the same, and the math teacher told me to stop talking during the lecture so I only got to ask my table partners, but!” She swings her arms wide for emphasis. Doc slips over and takes her bag before she can knock a picture frame off the wall, but lets her keep talking. “But then at lunch! I was talking to my best friend Cub about needing new scout friends for the new troop, and he said that he knew some people!”

A laugh rumbles in Doc’s chest. “Did he, now?” Scarlet and Cub have been friends since kindergarten, and he’s gotten to know the kid pretty well over the years. If he recommended people to Scarlet, then there’s definitely some kind of catch.

“Yeah, he did!” Scarlet grabs her phone from her pocket and fumbles with it for a moment before flipping it around to show Doc. “Here, this is them!”

The picture on screen is of a selfie that Scarlet took in the cafeteria, presumably during lunch not long after Cub gave her the tip. Seated against the wall are two girls glancing up through the camera. The first is a very tall girl with black hair in a curly ponytail, red-lensed glasses, and curiously, a fake handlebar mustache stickered on her face. She’s tall enough to be bunched up awkwardly to be entirely in frame and her wobbly smile betrays her nervousness. The other is much shorter, a blonde avian girl with parrot-like ear feathers and a freckled, smirking face. She’s throwing up an ironic-looking peace sign.

Middle schoolers get stranger every year.

Scarlet points to mustache girl. “This is Mumbo—” and to the blonde one— “and this is Grian!”

Ren trots over to take and look and Scarlet repeats their names for him. “Huh. Cool! And they want to be Buttercup Scouts?”

She nods emphatically. “Yeah, that’s what they said!”

Doc hums in careful acknowledgement and herds them out of the entryway and back into the rest of the house. Ren ambles back to his training, and Scarlet bounces into the kitchen and grabs an apple out of the fruit bowl that lives on their island. He gives her a look. “Do you know why they haven’t already joined another troop?” Which is probably where the catch is, if he knows anything about Scarlet’s friend by now.

She waves her hand vaguely. “Yeah, yeah; Mumbo said she was too nervous to join—or, well, Grian said that for her, but whatever—and Grian said she was—” she takes a bite of her apple and the last half of her sentence dissolves into gibberish with few recognizable sounds.

Doc raises his eyebrow.

Scarlet swallows the bite and chuckles sheepishly. “Sorry. Yeah, Grian said she’s been a Buttercup Scout before, but she got kicked out of her last troop.”

What.

Doc blinks. “Did she say why, or…?”

She shrugs. “I dunno what happened. But she wants to join our troop! So that’s two more members! And we only need three!” She looks up at him with pleading eyes. “You gotta take her, ‘cause Mumbo said she wouldn’t join without Grian! And no one I asked wanted to join! So!”

Curse those kitty eyes.

He ruffles her hair and smiles through the hesitation churning in his lungs. “I did say all we needed to form a troop was two more girls.” Scarlet cheers before Doc can say his next thought. “Did you get their parent’s phone numbers so I can call them?”

Her celebration stutters to a halt like a toy running out of batteries. She clears her throat and focuses very hard on her apple. “Um, no…? 

He can’t help but chuckle at the redness growing on her face. “Ask them tomorrow, and we’ll see where it goes, okay?”

“Okay!”

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

The Bad Batch Short Story Collection

Assorted short stories written in response to prompt challenges. Titles are the prompts used. Almost all under 2k word count.

I've arranged this list in 'chronological order' ie/ Cadets -> S1 -> S2 -> S3. All links are to the Tumblr versions of the stories. Prefer to read the collection on AO3? It'll be in the order that prompts were released, but you can find it Here.

Looking for longer stories? To check out the round-up of my other fics, Click Here :)

Cadet Batch - as featured in my WIP fic 'Pieces Of The People We Love'

Unresponsive Tech loses his first batchmate. Lightning Strike Struggling with how a Kaminoan lightning storm affects his enhanced senses, a young enhanced clone cadet makes an unexpected friend. Injured / Lula Alone and recovering from an injury that might lead to his decommissioning, Wrecker gets an unexpected visitor, and an unexpected friend. Helpless Experimental Unit 99 are on a training exercise and struggling to shake down with their new member, CT-9931 ‘Hunter’. Blood-Stained Tiles / Ice Pack Wrecker finds Hunter in the freshers nursing a split lip. Getting a Haircut / Cadets / "Don't avoid the question" The enhanced cadets discuss the state of their newest addition's hair. Victim Blaming Crosshair is severe and unyielding when it comes to dealing with a headlice infestation.

TCW Era

"Help Them" / Compelling Voice Hunter is injured, but orders Crosshair to continue with the mission. "It's just a scratch" Hunter can still be a little shit, even when he's being a good brother.

S1

Obedience / Conditioning Imperial Officers and Kaminoans discuss enhancing the strength of Crosshair’s control chip. Crosshair deals with the effects of his chip enhancement. Suffering in Silence Omega wants to play, but all Wrecker wants is rest. Found Footage Tech discovers an old home video from their cadet days. Solitary Confinement After being captured on Daro, Hunter waits in the holding cell for Crosshair to come and confront him. "I love you" / Sole Survivor Crosshair considers many things.

S2

Too Weak To Move / Bundled Up In Blankets The Batch are camped out in Cid's Parlour in Ord Mantell, recuperating from the flu. Presumed Dead Hunter and Echo argue about the future. “I didn’t think I would get this far.” Tech and Phee debate the merits of lab-grown versus natural. Battle Scars Phee admires Tech's battle scars, prompting a comparison with his brothers. Left for Dead Hemlock recovers Tech's goggles on Eriadu. "No... not like this" Hunter and Phee receive some unwelcome news. Not Allowed To Die Tech still has a mission to complete.

Pre-S3

Time Loop Hunter feels trapped in an endless loop after losing Omega.

Post-S3

Water Gun Fight / "It's not what you think" The children of Pabu have a water gun fight "Get out of my room!" / "You're a bad liar" Teenage girl sleepovers should not be interrupted by well-meaning fathers. Human Weapon aka The Birthday Cake Fic Omega wants to celebrate her friend's birthday, and finds out Crosshair's thoughts on the subject. "Need a hand?" Crosshair struggles to manage a task one-handed. Wrecker is there to support him. "Forget I asked" Crosshair tells Hunter he wants to join the Resistance Light in the Darkness Crosshair considers his motivation. Comfort Zone Hunter is restless, and Shep invites him to take a walk. “Just when were you planning on telling us that?” Wrecker discovers that Hunter has been learning a new skill. “Stop touching me!” - “I’m not touching you!” After a lifetime fearing the roiling ocean dark of Kamino, Fives has his first encounter with the shallow, tropical sea of Pabu “Hold still.” / “Yeah, kid, we’re fine.” Mayday is relaxing on a pristine beach with a smoothie, and doesn't want to be bothered. But the beach is never free of drama. "You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen." Omega departs Pabu with an unexpected passenger

[emilija04acer]

Lackadaisy fanfics list <3

Recomendation>>>

Characters: Viktor, Mordecai, Nico, Seraphine

Lackadaisy Five by GreyRose24

Viktor Vasko’s first impression of Mordecai Heller is that Atlas has hired a scrawny kid to be his new partner. His second impression is that Atlas has hired a very irritating scrawny kid with something missing in either his head or his heart. Alternate title: five times Mordecai let the mask slip in front of Viktor and one time he didn't

Words:27,291

This is one of my favorites. I found it when I was searching for fics that had some focus on Mordechai's Jewish background. I like how the author depicted their relationship (not because it isn't romantic), they show genuine care for one another and I want to read more.

(If you like the ship see number 3)

This is the first part in a series of 5 works, I'd recommend this series.

2. Lackadaisy Communion by GreyRose24

The Savoy siblings’ first impression of Mordecai Heller was that Asa Sweet had handed them off to a rude bookkeeper to be their new leader. Their second impression was that the boss really needed to watch his back because their new colleague clearly had his own agenda in mind. Alternate title: four times the Savoys messed with Mordecai to get to know him better and one time they didn't. [Fluffy side story, fits around Lackadaisy Diable & Triad]

Words: 25,720

The final installment of this series was mentioned earlier. Even without reading the entire series, I found it possible to understand everything. I love fluff so this is the jam.

3. What Is This Feeling? by FOxFIRe_27

4 times Mordecai had some…confusing feelings about Viktor + one time it finally clicked.

Words:12,781

Actually wanted the 2 to be happy so it's a bit out of character, but it's sweet!

4. Frozen Hearts by meticulous-metzger (EdgeHedgeShads)

In an attempt to raise Viktor for a job without freezing his tail off, Mordecai decides to drive in the thick winter snow, only to have an accident. Irritated his young triggerman continues to be reckless, Atlas orders him out of the speakeasy and into Viktor's apartment to recover, leading to some awkward conversations, situations and a whole lot of bonding.

Words:5,948

Mordecai has an accident and Viktor takes care of him, Unfortunately uncompleted...

5. The Hotseat by meticulous-metzger (EdgeHedgeShads)

After a storage barn gets raided by a competitor, Mordecai and Viktor are sent out to wait for the perpetrators to make a second hit. Unfortunately, it's the middle of summer, and Mordecai isn't coping with the heat well.

Words:2,697

This one is a bit more... sweaty. Nothing too explicit, just the first kiss in the summer's heat. Again not finished... Damn!

6. Stopgap by Stariceling

Viktor and Mordecai look after each other, at least long enough for the bleeding to stop.

Words:2,223

A break from shipping, another platonic fic!

Mordecai took out his handkerchief again to finish the interrupted task of fastidiously cleaning the blood from his face. “That should suffice until you see a doctor.”

“No doctor,” Viktor muttered. “Alvays threatening to chop off legs.”

7. Lackadaisy Liaison by bubble_bees

Viktor couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment their relationship developed into this. It was natural. They gravitated around one another as if that’s what they’ve done all their life. Or: a look at Viktor & Mordecai's partnership, up until its rather violent end.

Words:2,143

The betrayal of getting kneecapped buy your dear friend. Poor Vik...

There should be more fics focusing on Viktor and Mordecai. On Viktor in general. Also on the Savoy siblings.

I know they aren't the main characters, it's to be expected but come on! Will I have to write? I want a fic in which Viktor gets an apology for being kneecapped into early retirement, well a longer fic than this>

I Know Those Eyes/This Man Is Dead by Lack-luster-daisy (cowgremlin) We are back to shipping.

Please write for the series! Finish them, please!!!

"Papa me want more movie!"

Why are there only 4 pages for Mordecai and Viktor (platonic) on AO3? Well looks like someone's got to change that.

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

...the unholy flames of ♥kink!week♥ burn brightly...

(don't know what kink week is? click here!)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

∼ the ice is broken, and we have stepped foot into the unholy week -- what sort of sin awaits us today? ∼

∼ day two brings us our beloved knight ♥ Brienne of Tarth ♥ ∼

∼ tags and the fic are under the cut ∼

♥ i've worked very hard on this series — it was a huge project to undertake and i would very much appreciate if you left me comments with your thoughts and impressions — you already know they make my heart sing ♥ (AO3 link — i prefer it to tumblr vastly)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

tags: #lactation #lactation kink #erotic lactation #breastfeeding #hurt/comfort #lesbian sex #thigh riding #kissing #comfort #nightmares #feeding #veguely implied somnophilia but it's purposefully left unclear #kink!week

sweet dreams (clicking on the title will lead you to ao3)

Brienne manages to win the fight — but after she gives the last one of her attackers a final blow, making him fall onto the ground, blood seeping from his chest, she suddenly feels weak and dizzy. 

Nauseous, she collapses, falling onto her knees. She’s vaguely aware she’s wounded, but she can’t discern where or how much. She feels pain — a distant throbbing in her arm. There is something red in her peripheral vision. Blood? She can’t see. 

The world goes black.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

When she regains consciousness, she isn’t in the woods anymore. The surface underneath her is soft and dry. She opens her eyes. Above her is a wooden roof with thick beams. 

“Ah, you’re finally awake,” a feminine voice says. Brienne startles — winces, and then immediately hisses in pain — but she manages to turn her head to the side. 

Next to her, sitting on a little wooden chair, is a young woman that seems to be around Brienne’s age — but that’s about where the similarities end. The girl is very pretty — she has beautiful glowing skin, big brown eyes, thick dark eyebrows and hair, her lips are rosy and plump, and she’s all soft, womanly curves. 

She smiles at Brienne, putting the sewing work— or perhaps leatherwork? — she’s been working on. “You should take it easy. It’ll take some time for the wounds to heal.”

“Wounds?” Brienne says stupidly.

“Your arm and your chest — but you’ll be alright. I took care of them and cleaned them. They’re healing just fine.”

“Who are you?” Brienne asks. “And where am I?”

“I’m Rosie,” she answers and smiles again. 

Brienne can’t help but notice how lovely the girl looks — her teeth are healthy and white, her cheeks are flushed a pretty pink and her eyes have the most charming glint in them — especially when she smiles. 

“And I know who you are, Brienne of Tarth.”

Brienne says nothing. She feels fuzzy again. She can’t tell if she’s about to lose consciousness or fall asleep. She fights it, trying to blink the drowsiness away. 

“You saved our village from those crooks. They dwelled in the surrounding forest and kept us living in fear — robbing us, attacking women from the village, preventing us from living normal lives. I wasn’t allowed to do anything for months. Not that I could do much, really. I had a child just recently — but I would’ve liked to take a walk.”

Brienne is only half-aware of what the girl is telling her. She has a lovely voice, Brienne thinks, drifting in an out of consciousness. 

“My father found you, and we brought you here. I’ve gotten the task of taking care of you. I took it very seriously, you know. I love taking care of people.”

Brienne mumbles a ‘thank you,’ tries to form a coherent sentence, but her eyes are too heavy. 

“Aw, you poor thing,” Rosie says. “Sleep now, sweet Brienne. I’ll be here when you wake.”

Brienne sleeps.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Rosie is there when Brienne wakes up from a nightmare. She remembers blood and pain and death, but not much else.

“How long have I slept?” she asks. “I must go.”

She knows she was in the woods for a reason, but she’s so drowsy, so sleepy — she can’t really remember the details. She’s still shaky from her nightmare.

“You can’t go anywhere, silly — not for another couple of days. You’ll lose consciousness on the road and hit your head somewhere.”

Brienne whines and protests, but she knows she couldn’t get up even if she wanted to. 

“We brought you here yesterday, and you slept most of the day. Today you woke up early in the morning. It’s afternoon now.”

Brienne nods in acknowledgement. “Thank you,” she says, finally letting herself relax into the bed, admitting to herself she can’t go anywhere just yet. “You’re very kind to me.”

“Oh, nonsense — you saved our village! Here, I have some porridge for you. Let me help you sit up.”

She sits Brienne up, and Brienne hisses and winces in pain. She notices she isn’t wearing her own clothes — instead she has a men’s undershirt on. 

“Your underthings were stained with blood. I washed them, but until they dry I don’t have anything else you’d fit in but my brother’s clothes. I hope you don’t mind,” Rosie says apologetically. She brushes Brienne’s hair from her forehead, and for some reason Brienne feels herself blush. Rosie’s touch is firm, but gentle. Brienne feels very safe with her.

“Here,” Rosie says, and Brienne realises the girl intends to feed her the porridge like a child. 

“I can eat by myself,” she says, but Rosie will have none of it.

“Nonsense. Open your mouth.”

Brienne doesn’t have it in her to argue, so she does as she’s told. 

“Good girl,” Rosie says, and Brienne blushes profusely. Nobody’s ever called her that. It feels… nice — like she’s done something good.

Rosie doesn’t comment on Brienne’s blushing cheeks, and instead feeds her porridge in silence. 

It’s rather nice to be taken care of, Brienne thinks as she swallows a spoonful of porridge, I shouldn’t get used to it. She can’t remember the last time somebody treated her with this much care — and a stranger, at that. 

“Did you have a nightmare?” Rosie asks as she feeds her.

“Why do you ask?”

Rosie brings the spoon to Brienne’s lips. “You were frowning in your sleep and saying things.”

“What did I say?” she asks and takes the spoon into her mouth.

“I didn’t get most of it. I just heard “no” and such. Do you have nightmares often?”

“Most nights,” Brienne says with her mouth full. “I’m used to it.”

Rosie says nothing further. 

After Brienne’s done eating, Rosie briefly disappears from the room to put away the empty bowl. Just as Brienne feels her limbs start to grow heavy with sleep, she returns. 

“Am I taking up someone’s bed? I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Nonsense,” says Rosie. “This is my bed.”

“And where is your husband?” Brienne asks, remembering Rosie has a child.

“Oh, he’s in the navy. He’s gone for months sometimes. I just take care of little Robbie, nurse him and such. I’ve little else to do. He’s such a good baby — he either feeds or sleeps. And my mother helps me when I need. Oh, and my father told me that he wants to speak to you — to thank you properly, when you feel better. But I don’t think you’re better quite yet — maybe tomorrow,” she muses.

Brienne has a feeling Rosie is the type of girl who knows how to get her way. She doesn’t mind — she fine doing as she’s told. She’s so very sleepy, anyway. 

“Here, have some water,” Rosie says and brings a cup sitting on the stool next to the bed to Brienne’s lips. Brienne realises she’s thirstier than she thought — she drinks most of the water from the cup. She feels a bit weird, being babied like this — but she doesn’t mind. It’s nice to be pampered for a change. 

“I really admire you, you know,” Rosie says, sitting down on the bed. “I think you’re so very brave. I could never do what you do.”

“You wouldn’t like what I do,” Brienne murmurs sleepily.

“No, I don’t think I would,” Rosie says, and shifts closer to Brienne. “You have really pretty eyes.”

“Yours are much prettier than mine,” Brienne replies. 

Rosie is right above her face, leaning over her. She looks at Rosie’s big, warm, brown eyes. Her stomach feels funny when Rosie’s this close to her — tingly somehow.

“Blue eyes are much rarer,” Rosie says. 

Brienne doesn’t have a response to that — Rosie won the argument. She smiles at Brienne, and Brienne feels fuzzy again, but… different fuzzy than before — she can’t quite place it. 

“When I first saw you, I thought you were a man,” Rosie says. Brienne isn’t surprised. “But I’m glad you aren’t.”

“Why?” 

Brienne softly gasps when their noses touch. She didn’t realise Rosie was that close.

“I don’t know,” Rosie says. She kisses Brienne’s cheek. Brienne’s skin tingles where Rosie’s soft lips touched it. She feels warm and fuzzy and sleepy. She wonders if she’s dreaming.

“I want to take care of you,” Rosie says. Brienne loves the feeling of Rosie’s warm breath on her cheek.

“People don’t take care of me,” she murmurs, her mind blurry with sleep. “Am I dreaming?” 

“Perhaps,” Rosie says and caresses her cheek and her neck. Her hands are soft and warm. Brienne wants her closer. “I don’t want you to have another nightmare.”

Brienne sleepily watches Rosie loosen her corset in the front and untie her shirt, pushing it aside. Her breasts spill out of the garment. They look soft and heavy — Brienne is mesmerised by them. She looks at the light pink nipples. They’re leaking milk. Her mouth waters.

Rosie pushes her breasts towards Brienne’s face. Brienne feels her cheeks grow hot. She’s in that delicious, not quite awake state — drifting on the edge of sleep. Her body and her mind feel heavy and fuzzy and warm. 

“This will calm you down,” Rosie says. “You won’t have nightmares anymore — not while I’m here.”

She takes her breast and gently presses it to Brienne’s lips. If Brienne were more awake, she’d question this more — but in her current state she only feels slight confusion which is quickly overridden by a pleasant, tingly feeling in her abdomen. 

She takes the rosy nipple into her mouth. “Suck,” Rosie says, and Brienne sucks. 

Rosie’s milk tastes sweet. Sweet, just like Rosie, is the only thought in Brienne’s mind. She loves the feeling of the soft, heavy breast pressing onto her face. She sucks, and her cheeks are hot, and she feels a bit embarrassed, but she doesn’t stop. She’s unsure whether she’s dreaming or awake.

Rosie cradles her head with one hand and with the other she caresses Brienne’s chest — gently, feather-light. Brienne’s skin tingles. She gets goosebumps all over her torso and arms.

Rosie’s hand ventures lower, slips underneath her shirt, traces patterns on Brienne’s stomach. Brienne softly whimpers when Rosie runs her fingers over her pubic hair. 

“Just suck,” Rosie says, her voice breathy, and Brienne feels hot all over. She does as she’s told, and continues to drink Rosie’s sweet, creamy milk. A coil starts building in her belly as Rosie runs her fingers over the wet folds between her legs, circles the hard bud there. She feels Rosie’s wetness on her thigh as Rosie starts grinding on it, hot and slick, and she hears Rosie’s soft, sweet moans of pleasure — or perhaps those are her own. She sucks on Rosie’s hard nipple, heavy breast pressing on her lips, and the coil in her belly grows tighter and tighter until it finally snaps and Brienne cries lets out a muffled cry. Rosie grinds harder on her thigh before crying out as well and falling forwards, pushing her breasts into Brienne’s face.  

Rosie gently removes her breast from Brienne’s mouth and then kisses Brienne’s wet lips — slowly and with curiosity. Brienne kisses back. She loves how soft and plump Rosie’s lips are. Rosie licks Brienne’s lower lip and places a chaste, soft kiss on the corner of her mouth, then her cheek. Brienne feels like she’s floating. 

“Sleep, my brave Brienne,” she whispers softly, and Brienne sleeps.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

When she awakes once again, Rosie is next to her bed. She talks to her like nothing happened, and Brienne wonders if it was all a dream. 

“Did you have nightmares again?” Rosie asks as she brings a glass of water to Brienne’s mouth. Brienne remembers how soft Rosie’s lips were on her own, and her belly tingles.

“No,” she says. “I’m surprised. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have them.”

“Good,” Rosie says and smiles brightly. Her face glows and her eyes twinkle. Brienne’s heart flutters. “You should get some more rest. My father will want to speak to you today.”

Brienne nods.

“I have to go feed Robbie. Call for me if you can’t sleep,” she says and gives Brienne a kiss on the cheek. Brienne blushes. 

When she falls asleep, she dreams of Rosie leaning over her bed, kissing her. She awakes sweaty and hot, with a throbbing between her thighs. 

She ignores it.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Brienne recovers quickly — in the next couple of days she’s ready to leave and continue her quest. The village people wish her a lot of luck, and give her many gifts for her brave act. 

Rosie gives her a leather bracelet. “I made it while you were sleeping,” she says. 

Brienne thanks her and ignores the tug in her chest and the urge to kiss those pink, pretty lips. When she leaves, she doesn’t look back.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Years pass, and after a while Rosie feels like a distant dream. Brienne rarely remembers her during waking hours.

However, when she can’t sleep, or is awoken by a nightmare — which, thankfully, happens less often than before — she still clutches the leather bracelet to her chest and imagines the feeling of Rosie’s nipple in her mouth and the soft breast pressing into her face, recalls the sweet taste of Rosie’s milk on her tongue. She remembers the warmth, the tingling, and the softness of her lips. She feels fuzzy and sleepy and safe.

She always sleeps peacefully until morning.

taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed!): @opheliauniverse @dumbasslesbi @bychrissi @scream-queenlover @muffintopxs @bigolgay @gwenslucifer @weemswife @zephyr-is-tired @yourhauntedhead @carnivorousflowers @i-have-insane-that-i-am-paper @softshrimpy @willowshadenox @syrenacrainn @weemssapphic @dianneking @imprincipalweemspet @kimiinou @ninelesbien @i-love-nerdy-stuff @eveymay @myzzjolanda @pluied-ete @brienneswife @gwenzone @principal-weems09 @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @gela123 @emilynissangtr @gwendolinechristieiscute @h-doodles @winterfireblond @alexusonfire @larissaoftarthweems @a-queen-and-her-throne @bikergurl5 @salems-spaghettios @theflashesoflove @catechristiesstuff @vendocrap8008 @billiedeansbitch @coffeemelko @lilfartbox1 @amateurwritescm @daydream-cement @kaymariesworld @sicklygrlsicklygrl @wh0re4women @rippersz

[gaphic]

I know most of the advice to fanfic writers is to ignore your hitcount, and while hitcount IS bullshit, I also think it’s valuable to know if there’s anything specific impacting your numbers. So, for the fic writers: a brief list of Things That Might Be Preventing People From Reading Your Work, Roughly In Order A Reader Encounters Them

Bad title. By ‘bad’ I don’t mean ‘stupid,’ I mean self-deprecating or inscrutable. If your title gives the impression you don’t like your own work or leads people to expect something you’re not offering, you’ll lose them. Titles aren’t that important on AO3, I know I mostly ignore them, but they’re still the first thing people see!

No ships. Nothing for this one, sorry, ship fic is just more popular than gen fic

Overtagging. This risks the reader getting overwhelmed when they see your Wall Of Tags, and leaving them uncertain whether the thing they’re searching for is actually significant or just mentioned in passing. Restaurant menus don’t list every grain of salt and sugar!

Undertagging. This risks readers not being able to search your fic, or not knowing what to expect from it. Restaurant menus don’t just say ‘pizza,’ they list the toppings!

No summary/“I’m bad at writing summaries.” Your summary is your last line of marketing before your reader either clicks or scrolls past! It’s your last shot! Do not leave it empty! I know summaries are hard, but in a pinch you can just copy paste a juicy sentence from your fic! It’s fine!

First person narrative voice. Number one thing that makes me, personally, click away. Nobody likes it.

Second person narrative voice. This is getting more popular in recent years, but it still puts some people off. *Not applicable if your target demographic includes homestucks

No paragraph breaks. This makes your fic scan as an impenetrable wall of text. It will feel hard to bite into, eyes will just slide off.

Poor grammar/general text formatting. If you are not highly proficient writing in your chosen language, find a beta reader. People tend to think this is harder than it is- if your fic isn’t super long, a lot of pedantic autists like myself will beta it just for fun! Don’t be afraid to ask people! Just clarify that you want a grammar check, not a full script edit

EDIT: should’ve clarified this to begin with, but NONE of these things reflect on the quality of your story, or are ‘should’ statements!! This post is ONLY describing the things that (for better or worse) ping a readers lizard brain, and may prevent them from being able to engage with a fic they would otherwise love!

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Maybe I'm Afraid of You | Carnal XI

Carnal(adjective) : relating to or given to crude bodily pleasures and appetites

Simon was born with what his father called 'The Curse'. A wanton craving for taboo meat. Since meeting the similarly cursed Johnny, the two had formed a bond. They didn't just fight together, they ate together, slept together, and shared everything.

When a favor to Price reveals another cursed person, Simon worries she could destroy everything.

Masterpost

CW: cannibalism, gore, parental abuse

This is very much a horror fic mostly based around the films Raw (2017) and Bones and All (2022), if you sit through those you should be good here. This is my first horror fic.

Chapter Title Credit: Bite the Hand - Boygenius

Nina had always been good about texting or calling him back. Always within an hour if she wasn’t asleep. He’d been talking to her more than normal since the Arthur incident. His car had been found but not his body.

No mention of Nina in any of the articles. Seems he never told anyone about her. His parents seemed content in blaming anyone not English for his disappearance. Their lack of closure didn’t weigh on his heart.

The link to the house’s camera feed did weigh on him. He’d resisted up until this point. It was a last resort. He couldn’t invade her privacy like that. She’d never forgive him. 

He tried to understand her. Anyone would have gone a bit off living in that house with a father like that. They never discussed any rules for her response time. She wasn’t one of his men whom he could order around. She didn’t owe him. 

Yet one hour turned to three and then eight and then twelve and sixteen. 

He sat in his office, cigar in hand. His cursor hovered over the icon.

“Just click it, sign in and you’ll have full access to the cameras,” Gaz said, handing him a slip of paper with the log in. “They’re already labeled by room but you can also see all of them at once.”

He called again.

“Sorry, I missed your call John. Leave a message or text me. I’ll call you back soon.” There was a high pitched beep as the recording started. He was the only one who called her so she personalized her voicemail for him. He didn’t leave another message. 

It took a moment for the cameras to load up. He didn’t see her. The bedroom was empty, the living room was empty, the dining room empty, the kitchen…

There was blood everywhere. On the floor, on the butcher block and leading in from the front and out the back. He dropped his cigar into the ashtray on his desk. He reversed the footage. 

A body, Nina was dragging it from the kitchen and out the back door. It was mutilated. He went back further. It had been resting on the butcher block. Further back. 

Simon walked in. What the bloody hell was Simon doing there? He took food out of a pan on the stove, ignoring the body entirely. John followed him through the cameras. 

The foyer was covered in blood. He reversed till the night before. There wasn't a sound. He watched Nina fly down the stairs and out the front door. She came back in, a body in her arms. 

MacTavish. 

They fell onto the floor and she flipped him over. He was bleeding. Price couldn’t make it out very well but it looked like he was stabbed, the knife still in his side. Nina was trying to stop the bleeding. She looked terrified. 

Simon ran in, took charge of everything. MacTavish seemed stable and they moved him. Simon appeared again and dragged a different body through the house. 

Price shut his laptop. 

He called MacTavish and then Simon. He called Nina again. 

He texted Nina one last time.

“I’m coming over”

A thirty minute drive gave him time to think. He grabbed a rifle just in case. 

He never should have brought the boys into this. He cursed himself not just handling it on his own. He could have protected her better. Protected her from them, from herself.

“I’ve given up on trying to help her myself.”

John knew it was strange for him to be so protective of her. They had no blood ties and  Godfather was title she’d bestowed on him sometime after her father’s suicide. 

She had endeared herself to him over the years. Many dinners at her father’s table with the rest of the unit. She was never invited to these dinners, always eating beforehand or at the small table in the kitchen. 

She’d watch from the top of the stairs as they moved to the sitting room to smoke and drink. He was the only one to stand in the foyer and talk to her. She was funny and always read any book he recommended. He guessed she didn’t have many friends. 

She was always a little strange, looking at him like they were two different species. Big brown eyes flicking between him and the archway to the sitting room. He quickly learned she was listening and watching for her father. The one arm chair would creak and she’d pick up her skirt and slink away without making a sound. He missed her when William sent her away to school. A fancy boarding school run by nuns. They weren’t Catholic but it made more sense when John heard about how strict it was. They still rapped rulers on the girls' knuckles for talking in class. 

William had invited the unit to his house for another dinner. A regular celebration anytime one of them was promoted. They’d all stay at an inn in town and the next morning set off pheasant hunting. William still complained about the fox hunting laws. The house was always quiet but it seemed quieter without Nina. 

There was the sound of gravel crackling as a car pulled into the driveway.  They all stopped and looked at each other, no one was missing from the table. Banging on the door, almost as loud as the thunder outside. William waved it off.

“Ignore it. Anyone worth answering should know it's rude to visit during dinner.”

More banging, two fists on the wood. 

“Let me in! Dad! LET ME IN!”

 John was closest so he stood up to answer.

Nina was there, still in her tartan skirt, navy sweater and brown loafers, soaking wet to the bone. She shoved past him. 

“Are you all too drunk to answer the phone?” She asked angrily. 

“Nina, go upstairs.”There was only one rule in that house and that was not to embarrass her father and she had done just that.

“I need to pay the cabbie.” She snapped, dripping onto the carpet. John fished his wallet out and went outside. He gave the man a stack of pounds, more than covering the cost, and grabbed her suitcase out of the back. 

There was arguing coming from the kitchen when he came back inside. A trail of wet patches leading from the foyer and through the dining room into the kitchen. The rest of the men sat awkwardly at the table. William was gone. John went to take his seat again, it wasn’t his business.

There was the clattering of chairs. William screamed at her followed by Nina yelping in pain. John jumped up and rushed in. 

Nina was on the floor, clutching her face, mouth bloodied. William’s arm was bleeding, in his hand was his belt. They stared at each other like two predators about to lunge at each other again. 

William was seething in a way John had only seen on the battlefield. He moved before John could react, striking Nina’s arm with the belt. She flinched, turning to shield her arm and face and he struck her side. John grabbed his arm.

“William, stop!” He put himself between them. 

“Get her out of my sight, John. Now.” He pulled his arm away and turned his back to them. John knelt and hooked his arms under Nina’s and pulled her up. “Not through the dining room!”

She was shaking out of anger, he could tell from how she stared at her father’s back. He took her upstairs through the servants' staircase. 

“Let me look at ya,” He said, once he sat her down on her bed. There were bruises on her face, arm and side. Her lips were bloodied but she had no cuts. He ignored it for the time and got her a washcloth. “I’ll get your stuff and some food. Just stay here.”

He wasn’t going to leave her there. If he wasn’t his superior, John might have beat him with that belt. 

Everyone was leaving as he headed downstairs, William apologizing at the door. 

“She’s very ill. A seizure disorder. She gets disoriented and very frightened, and doesn't know where she is. Her mother suffered from the same. I apologize.”

John stood on the stairs till the last man left and William shut the door.

“She doesn’t have seizures,” he said.

“She has whatever I say she has.” William turned to glare at him. “She fucking bit me, John. She can’t stay here.”

“She can stay with me.”

“No.”

“William, she can’t go back to school and she can’t stay here. She’s seventeen, you can’t kick her out. She can stay with me.”

“I’m going to have her sectioned.”

“No,” John shook his head. 

“She needs help, John. I can no longer provide it. She is a danger to herself and to others! I need her out of my house!”

“You’re going to send her away. You beat her, William! Of course she fucking attacked you.”

“I still outrank you, Price! My family is none of your concern!” He swung the front door open. “Get out! Now!”

When they returned the next day for hunting, Nina was gone. He never got to bring her food or her things. It would be almost a year before he saw her again. She was subdued, thinner than before. It was her father’s retirement party. He reasoned she was there because her absence would draw questions and William was nothing if not a posh cunt obsessed with appearances. 

“I’m sorry,” He whispered as he hugged her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m better,” she said with a forced smile. “I’m going to kill him.”

He didn’t believe her. She didn’t have it in her. Then a little over a year later he got the call. William had killed himself. He didn’t question it, especially not with the note he left. She was a good girl who’d been raised by a cruel man. He never asked what happened to her over that year or where she’d been sent. If it was anything as draconian as the school he sent her to, he couldn’t blame her for her hate. 

Then there was Arthur. But he’d hit her so it wasn’t her fault. She was defending herself. 

Now there was this mess. 

Simon and MacTavish were killers for work. 

He’d known Simon for ten years or longer. He’d done things but he wasn’t a killer without cause. 

MacTavish? 

There was a time he looked at Simon like he was God. He was a good man though, some anger issues but not cruel. 

He still went to the front door with the rifle in hand. Heavy footsteps towards the door. 

“Good to see you, Simon.” He said flatly. Simon without a mask was rare. The man’s brown eyes dug into him like dull blades. The shadows under his eyes were so dark that probably didn’t need the grease paint. 

“Sir.” He blocked any view into the house. 

“Where’s Nina?”

“Upstairs.”

“MacTavish?”

“Also upstairs.”

“Are they alive?”

“Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Simon, I saw what happened.” He nodded his head up towards where one of the cameras should be hidden. Simon glanced up and chuckled. 

“Guess we need to talk then.”

“Yes, we do.”

Once again, sorry this took forever. I have two more chapters lined up that I wrote while writing this one that I hope to finish soon.

Tag list: @gogh-with-the-flow @queen-ilmaree @cathnoneofyourbusiness

[fangbangerghoul]

What Did I Get Myself Into?

My Time at Sandrock fic Fem!builder Ghoul x Owen Ghoul finds the confidence to try to socialize like the rest of the Sandrockians WC: 993 Chapter 1: Playdate?

New mini fic up and live on Ao3! Just like the previous one I am challenging myself to keep each chapter under 1000 words. I won't lie it's been a little hard. I always feel the urge to write 10 more paragraphs but have to stop myself.

Please enjoy the first chapter under the cut and feel free to click on the link within the title to show it love on Ao3!

The sun was baking the sweat against her skin as she dragged a pile of old dusty wood back towards her shop. This particular wood pile had a few boards in it that would prove to be quite useful to her for her current project. Once Ghoul was inside the fenced area of her home she gave in and dropped the heavy boards, letting them fall to the ground and trying to wipe some of the dust off her hands. It was still only nine in the morning but she felt done for the day. Ghoul wasn't sure why she decided to drag the boards across the desert like that and a part of her felt like she should have chopped them up into smaller pieces. 

She knew it didn't matter now because the deed was done and her lips and tongue felt as dry as the area that surrounded her. Ghoul pushed her green bangs out of her face and looked out towards the Blue Moon Saloon that was basically her only neighbor. She could see the faint build of Owen and he seemed to be waving out towards her. She felt flutters in her stomach, anxious and unsure if he was waving at her or not. She gave a small shy wave back. 

Owen seemed to do a different motion with his hands now. She couldn't quite tell from this far but it was enough to beckon her forth. She looked around herself trying to decide whether she should pack up the wooden boards or not but ultimately decided that they would be fine where they were for now. 

Ghouls feet lead her to the saloon and Owen was standing there beaming at her as she walked up. 

“I hope you aren't working yourself too hard in the morning.” The warmth of his voice caused the redness in her cheeks. “I must admit I slept in today but if you've been out for a while already care to come in for a drink?” 

“I think I can afford to stop for a moment.” She said sheepishly. She always was a bit angry at herself for how small she felt around him and how easy it was to suddenly not know how to speak. It wasn't his fault, directly at least. 

“I have a few commissions I need to finish before the evening but I must admit I am thirsty.” Her tongue licked her lips subconsciously as she said this to him and she couldn't help that her eyes were focused on the bulkiness of his broad shoulders. Thankfully she thought he didn't notice. 

“I won't hold you up for too long then.” He winked at her, flashing a toothy grin. She followed his lead as he held the door open for her and stayed close behind. The saloon smelt of the usual fresh herbs, cooked food, and oak wood. Owen went ahead behind the counter and started to grab glasses to fill. Ghoul reached into her pocket and grabbed some gols to pay him. 

“Don't you dare.” He warned her playfully. The large glass full of root beer was ready on the counter. “You can come and buy some dinner tonight but this drink is on the house.” 

Ghoul looked at him suspiciously, always feeling slightly uncomfortable when he gave her things for free. She was never sure how to repay him and no matter what she gifted him, his response was always the same. It had gotten to the point where she made a little game out of it for herself and started to give him random pieces of old parts and berries. 

“You're too kind.” Was all she could manage and as she sipped on her foamy glass he sipped on his own. His eyes always seemed to stay glued on her when they were within proximity, watching to see if she enjoyed herself. She placed her glass down after drinking half of it down. It coated her throat with cool sugary sweetness. 

“Would you…” Ghoul began, tapping her index finger on her glass handle. She was trying to find the courage and the words for what she wanted to ask. “Would you want to hang out today?” 

She regretted it as soon as she said it, the vulnerability of it. Asking for companionship was something she didn't do very often and she expected him to say he was busy today anyway. There was even a small part of her that did wish he would reject her offer so maybe her face would stop flushing when he spoke to her or the flips her stomach would perform would cease to be. She finally looked at him after asking and his brows were raised in surprise and his mouth slightly parted. Ghoul wondered if he was trying to find a gentle way to reject the request. 

“Yeah, I would love that.” He spoke with a small sigh as if the pressure within him finally spewed over like steam within an engine. “I think Grace can take over for a few hours. It has been awhile since someone asked me to spend the day with them.” 

Her heart faltered for a moment before revving back up to its regular beat. She was surprised and now even more anxious because she hadn't fully expected him to accept nor was she sure what in the hell she could take them to do. There were those commissions she had to finish and deliver and perhaps he would be willing to give her company during that. She chugged the rest of her drink before letting the glass fall back to the counter then wiped the foam off of her mouth. 

“Well…um..let’s head out when you are ready then.” She tried to sound confident but she was still bewildered that he even agreed to her offer. 

“After you builder.” Owen gave the willful command as he put both their used glasses behind the counter. 

[oswaldthatendswald]

for that ask game:

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Acoustic engineering (I actually got a textbook out of my university library. I didn't end up using that information because, frankly, I couldn't understand shit). Heavy metal poisoning and treatment (for obvious reasons, but again I was reading scientific papers on this shit. I had three different papers open on the potential effects of lead poisoning on the immune system before I remembered that I Could Just Make Shit Up). Sartre's Huis clos (this wouldn't be that weird but a. I don't speak French, so I was cross-referencing an English translation with the French to try to get a most complete understanding and b. this was for a single chapter title). Romulus and Remus (again, I was fucking around with multiple translations and a Latin dictionary to work through Ovid's Fasti).

Also my partner, who has to have very up-to-date information on first aid for work, has helped me do research on first aid for severe injuries (in particular burns and eye injuries) and she will lend me her first aid manuals. I'm always delighted to read another one. She's also very knowledgeable about water rescues (also for work), so I've gotten her help with that. At one point she calculated how far out at sea Shanks might have been when he got his arm chomped and how he might have managed to get himself back to shore. This was a discussion that took up several days.

Rest of the questions below the cut!!!

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

At first I had a hard time answering this, because I don't expect fanfiction to be as meticulously edited as formally published work, so unless spelling/grammer/punctuation is unusual enough to interfere with my understanding, I probably won't click away. But then I thought about breaks between paragraphs and yup that's the one. There's gotta be breaks between paragraphs. If it's just a wall of text I'm out. If it has indents it's on the thinnest of ice.

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

Oh, I just answered another ask about this! It should be the ask right before this one.

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?

Honestly, I was writing self insert star wars fanfic long before I knew that was a thing. I had a really complicated running crossover between Rise of the Guardians and Avatar the Last Airbender back in junior high, which I spent years developing but never posting online. The first fanfiction I read online was either for AtLA or Durarara!!, but I can't remember which anymore. I didn't start actually posting until I wrote a crossover between Undertale and a certain book series about witches and wizards, which I started right before the author got into her really vitriolic shit online. I tried to continue that, but it just wasn't fun anymore. For obvious reasons. Honestly, One Piece has been the first fandom that I'm consistently writing and posting for since.

I know that's more an explanation of how I got into fandom than how I started writing fic, it's really hard to explain how or why I started writing. I've been writing since I was six. I can't imagine not writing.

[rosanna-writer]

Fictional (2/3)

HUGE thank you to @azrielshadowssing for organizing another ACOTAR writing circle! This is my first time writing Nessian, part two of the fic started by @mercarimari. I was so excited to continue a story that was already DELIGHTFULLY meta; you can find part one here, and mine is under the cut.

Summary: Nesta has always hidden herself in books. Most if not all of her real life relationships had ended in fire and chaos. She was an expert in self destruction after all. But when a birthday gift from her sister brings a touch of magic to the world, and a piece of fiction into her reality--- Could things really change for the better? 

No. Absolutely not. There was no way this stranger really was a man who'd just stepped out of a book, even if he did know her name. That was beyond absurd—Nesta thought she should have been worried someone had spiked her drink if she'd actually thought he could be a fictional character come to life.

"Do I know you?" she said.

Even though her tone was cold enough to freeze the surface of the sun, the man just kept grinning at her. "I think you know exactly who I am. Does Nesta Archeron's Unlikely Night ring a bell?"

The fact that he knew her name and the title of the book Elain had given her should have sent her running. He had to be some kind of stalker, one who might have gone through her things.

But he was also the most attractive man in this bar by a mile, and Nesta wouldn't be here if her sense of self-preservation was fully intact.

"Then cut the crap and tell me who you are and what you want from me."

That smile of his faltered for just a second. "Nes, it's Cassian. Do— Do you not know who I am?"

"If you are who I think you are, then I'm not nearly drunk enough for this conversation."

Nesta wasn't sure what she expected, but not for him to laugh or the way the sound of it warmed her. There was no mocking edge to it, and she found herself wanting to hear it again.

"That makes two of us."

Nesta stared at him over the rim of her glass, one eyebrow arched. "Does it?"

"Yes. I've spent most of the day trying to figure out how to get back home," he said, raking a hand through his long hair. If he wasn't really a book character come to life, he was certainly insane, but a traitorous part of Nesta wished it was her hand doing that, just so she could see if his hair was as soft as it looked.

"Home?"

He gave her a look as if to say that she knew exactly what he meant, as preposterous as it was that his home could actually be the pages of a book. Nesta opened her mouth to say something in response, but the sharp sound of microphone feedback cut her off.

Whatever terrible local band was playing at the bar that night was about to begin their set.

"We should move this conversation somewhere a bit quieter," Nesta said, then cringed as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She hadn't intended for it to sound like such a come-on.

Cassian smiled at her again, and there was a hunger in his eyes that Nesta was all too familiar with. And well, hadn't she come here to find a bastard who'd look at her just like that?

"Moving a bit fast, aren't you, Nes? I didn't take you for that kind of girl."

Nesta scowled as she reached for her purse to pay the tab. Her voice was low and dangerous as she hissed, "You don't know a single thing about me."

When she was finished, Cassian left the bar with her. Nesta half-expected to feel a possessive hand on the exposed skin of her back, but Cassian just walked beside her, keeping a respectful distance. The only thing she felt was the cold night air.

Nesta led the way to a park a couple of blocks away, somewhere they could sit and talk without having to shout. For a long moment, the only sound was her heels clicking against the pavement. But when it was clear Cassian seemed intent on following her lead, she said, "You owe me an explanation. Start explaining, then."

Cassian ran his hand through his hair again, something that she remembered him constantly doing throughout the book. To Nesta, it had been a clear sign the book needed a better editor—the author had the same three overused gestures the characters made constantly.

"To be honest, that's what I was hoping you could help with. Everything back home was normal, but when I woke up this morning, I knew I wasn't there. Something brought me here," Cassian said.

He paused as they waited for a light to change, but Nesta didn't say anything, just crossed her arms. Even if what Cassian was saying was true (which she doubted), there was nothing she could help with.

"Everything was just so much more…vivid. I knew I had to be in the real world. And since the other Nesta—my Nesta—was based on someone real, I figured my best bet was to try and find you," Cassian continued.

Nesta couldn't hold back a sneer at the mention of the version of her that existed in the book. Cassian had probably been expecting someone sweet, friendly, and shy—not a shark out for blood at a dive bar.

At least he'd been nice enough not to voice his disappointment. It was better treatment than she deserved.

"And now what?" Nesta said, sinking down onto the nearest bench as they arrived at the park. This late, it was mostly deserted. Other than a few other couples out for a stroll and a man walking his dog, they were alone. "I don't have anything for you."

Cassian sighed. "I don't know. Could I at least see the book? Obviously, I know the plot, but I've actually never seen the cover."

That, at least, she could do for him. Nesta hadn't bothered to take the book out of her bag before she'd left for the bar, so she pulled it out and handed it to him. At the sight of the cover—a stock photo of a muscular, shirtless man—Cassian grimaced.

"Is that supposed to be me?" he said.

"Looks like it."

It was a shame they were out in public because Nesta would have liked nothing more than to get his shirt off to compare. It was clear Cassian was muscular under the jean jacket he was wearing, but Nesta wanted to see for herself. As baffling as this all was, the man was still gorgeous.

As Cassian flipped through the pages and skimmed, Nesta took the opportunity to ogle him a bit. That strong jawline just begged for her to run a finger from one end to the other, and this close, she could spot the green flecks in his hazel eyes.

She watched as his grimace became more pronounced the more he read. Eventually, he shut the book with a shake of his head. "Damn Nes," he said, "I didn't realize the writing was so bad. That smut is…." He trailed off as if he didn't have a word to describe it.

Privately, Nesta agreed, though she'd never admit that anywhere there was even the slightest chance that it might get back to Elain. Her sister wasn't a big reader, and the gift was thoughtful, in a way.

Instead, she just said coolly, "The book didn't mention anything about you reading smut. What made you such an expert?"

Cassian shrugged. "You get curious about what's going on in the other books in your genre, and I'm not as much of a meathead as I look."

"Tell me the last five books you read," Nesta commanded, the challenge clear in her voice.

Cassian listed them off without hesitation, and when he was done, Nesta had to admit to herself that he really was just as much of a romance reader as her. It caught her off-guard—she was used to being mocked for it, especially by men. But the jibes about too-perfect shirtless men and velvet-wrapped steel never came.

Instead, she found herself swapping recommendations with a man who'd stepped out of a book, but the most unbelievable part was how well their tastes aligned. They shared some favorite authors, re-read the same scenes over and over, and got irritated by the same tired tropes and turns of phrase.

But as the night dragged on and the temperature dropped, Nesta started to shiver in her short, open-backed dress. She put on a brave face, even as her teeth chattered.

Cassian pulled his jacket off and handed it to her. Nesta didn't take it. "Are you familiar with the saying 'a ho doesn't get cold'?" she said.

"It's yours if you want it," Cassian said, dropping the jacket in her lap. It was still warm from the heat of him. "But at least let me get you home safe."

If he wanted to go back to her place and fuck her, Nesta wished he'd just be honest about it. Keeping her out of the cold, making sure she got home safely—it was the kind of care she didn't deserve. Maybe he didn't realize that.

"I can get home on my own," she said, tossing the jacket back at him. Cassian snatched it out of the air before it smacked him in the face.

"You can," he said, "but you don't have to. And I want to know you're alright. It's late."

He just seemed so genuine; Nesta didn't know what to make of it. Everything about him was so unlike the men who just wanted her for a quick fuck.

She sighed. "Alright. Come home with me, then."

Cassian's shoulders slumped in relief as Nesta called a cab. Once they were up and moving, she warmed up a little bit. Cassian walked next to her, hands in his pockets.

"You're so different from her," he said, half to himself.

Nesta had no idea who he could possibly be talking about. "Her?" "The Nesta I know from the book. "

"I'm sure you want to get back to her," Nesta said, crossing her arms. She braced herself for a mention of how much he missed the sweet, shy girl from the book.

Cassian ran a hand through his hair for what seemed like the millionth time that night. "Not really," he said. "Not after meeting you. Sure, you've got some rough edges she doesn't, but that makes you real. Nothing compares to that."

Nesta didn't know what to say. Cassian was looking at her with a little bit of awe, and no one ever looked at her like that. For once, she was too thrown off to find the words for a typical bitter reply.

Before she really understood what she was doing, Nesta was reaching for his face and pulling it down to hers. Cassian's lips were just as soft as the book as described, and the kiss was gentle.

But Nesta Archeron didn't do gentle.

She slid her hands back from his face, tangled her fingers in his hair, and pulled just a bit. For half a second, she thought he might yelp and step back, but it just seemed to draw him in more. The hands that had settled on her hips pulled them closer, so her body was flush with his. As Cassian's tongue swept into her mouth, Nesta decided she could stay here forever.

But a sharp honk from the taxi they hadn't noticed arrived jolted them back to reality. "You're staying the night," Nesta declared as she opened the car door.

Cassian didn't argue, though he had the good sense not to mention just yet that he was already considering ways he could stay for a hell of a lot longer than just the night.

[summerwritesfics]

🗺️She’s Got An Army Of Saints Armed With Her Prayers

Pairing: Johnny Cage/Kuai Liang Length: 1714 Words Rating: Mature Warnings: Modern Fantasy AU, Guardian Angel!Kuai Liang, Child!Cassie Cage, Ward!Cassie Cage, Attempted Kidnapping, Mild Violence, Mild Gore, Cassie get’s a tiny bit of responsibility and immediately tries to misuse it because she’s a kid with 0 impulse control, Johnny is very confused for the majority of this fic AU-Gust 2024 Day 21: Guardian

AU-Gust 2024 Masterlist

Notes: Can you believe there’s only 10 more days of AU-Gust? Because I can’t lol. Anyway, this is another one where I admittedly switched out the original prompt for a joker because no matter how hard I tried, I just could not come up with an idea I liked for the original. 😭 Title is from Tell Them That She’s Not Scared by Envy On The Coast.

Johnny barrelled into the room, placing Cassie on the floor and slamming the door shut. He quickly made for the chest of drawers, pushing it to block the entrance. Then he glanced around, trying to figure out where in the manor he was. It looked like some sort of small temple, a room in some way used for worship. He clicked his tongue, realising all the windows were barred up.

Even worse, their pursuers began to bang on the door, so there was no way out where they came from.

There’s got to be another way out. He ran over to one of the windows, yanking on the bars hoping one would give. It was wishful thinking really. He looked over to where Cassie was. The little girl was on her knees, hands clasped in front of her like she was praying. She was in front of a statue of a winged man, holding a shield and spear.

“Cass, what are you doing?” He asked, desperately trying to keep his voice low. Even with all the banging and the fact they clearly knew they were in here, he didn’t want them hearing.

“Mr. Raiden said if something happens, we should pray to the statue and it will protect us.” Of course Raiden said that. The lord of the manor was a pretty spiritual man, it seemed very on brand for his answer to be prayer.

The chest of drawers suddenly jerked, and Johnny dashed across to grab Cassie. As he did, the bandits finally stormed the room, and he turned to face them. There were three of them, two he recognised as Jarek and Tremor, and the third in the middle was Kano, their leader.

“G’day mate,” Kano greeted casually, holding up a knife towards Johnny and Cassie. “I’m gonna need your lil’ girl now, if you don’t mind.”

“Touch my daughter and I’ll punch your dick so hard your balls explode,” Johnny warned, holding Cassie close with one arm, and using the other to make a punching motion.

“Ey, don’t blame me for this! Blame your ex-wife!” Kano twirled the knife in his hand as he approached. “She ain’t givin’ up on her attempts to hunt me down, so y’know…Desperate times lead to desperate measures and all that.”

Johnny’s eyes darted around, trying to search for a possible way out of this. As his eyes landed on Jarek, he noticed the bandit was staring behind Johnny, an extremely confused look on his face. Johnny didn’t want to look away in case Kano took the chance to attack.

“Uh, boss?” Jarek finally brought up, pointing towards the statue. “Is it just me or is that thing’s eyes glowing?”

Johnny wasn’t about to fall for that, until he noticed both Kano and Tremor looking towards the statue and their eyes widening. Johnny finally chanced a glance himself, he found that Jarek was right. The statue's eyes had a faint blue glow to them.

There was a loud crashing sound, as the statue began to crack. Johnny had no idea what was happening but he didn’t want any of the stones to crush Cassie. So he darted to one side, just as the stone began to crumble. When out the way, he turned to look at what was happening, and was shocked at what he saw.

The statue was gone, and in its place was a winged human with a shield and spear.

Before Johnny could really take in what was happening, the former statue darted forward. He tried to strike Kano who quickly ducked out of the way. This seemed to spring Jarek and Tremor to life. They attempted to strike the statue, but found themselves swiftly blocked with the shield. The statue used his shield to push them both back, before once more swiping the spear at them.

This time, he managed to just about catch Jarek, who let out a short hurt yell. As he stumbled backwards, he looked down to see his torso slashed open and bleeding. The statue took this as a chance to strike again, this time jabbing the spear forward, with such force it was driven straight through Jarek’s chest.

“Fuck this,” Kano growled, as the statue pulled the spear out of Jarek. Tremor ran over grabbing Jarek and throwing him over his shoulder. Kano pointed at Johnny. “This ain’t over Cage!”

And like the cowards they were, they ran. All it took was some vaguely magical being that was a far more skilled fighter than they were. Well… Johnny supposed that was actually understandable.

The statue watched them go, as if he was trying to judge if it was worth chasing them. Eventually, he stood down, deciding it was better to just let them go.

He turned around to face Johnny and Cassie. Johnny felt himself instinctively hold Cassie a little closer. Just because the statue had come to their defence initially, it didn’t mean it would stay that way.

“Miss Cassandra Carlton,” the statue addressed, stepping forward ever so slightly. “I have heard your call for protection, and I have granted it.” Wait. So. The prayer worked? What the hell is Raiden doing with a statue like that? “I am Song Kuai Liang, your guardian, from now until you take your final breath.” Kuai Liang got down onto one knee, bowing his head low. “I am at your service.”

“Oh, cool,” Cassie squealed in excitement. “Can you make me a sandwich?”

“As you wish, Miss Cassandra.”

“Wait- Wait- No. No!” He addressed that at both of them. Partially to stop Kuai Liang from actually going through with Cassie’s request and partially because he had so many questions. “Okay. I’m her Father, can I get some context as to what the hell is going on?”

“I am a guardian angel,” Kuai Liang answered, like he didn’t understand where Johnny’s confusion came from. “Your daughter is my ward, Mr. Cage.”

“Right. No. Sorry that doesn’t explain anything,” Johnny sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. “So. Cassie prayed to your statue for protection, and now you’re… What? Gonna protect her for the rest of her life?”

“If you wish to put it in such simple terms, yes.” Kuai Liang’s wings flapped ever so slightly. “The statue, as you so put it, was me in a hibernation state. Awaiting someone to call on me to be their protector.”

“I see…” Johnny kind of understood. He still had many questions. He could probably ask them later, but for now, he decided to try with the one he found most perplexing. “Okay, so, the guy who owns this place, Raiden, had your statue here. And the guy clearly knew what you were and how to summon you, given he told Cassie what to do. So… Why didn’t he summon you himself?”

“I cannot say, I am not Mr. Raiden,” Kuai Liang stated matter of factly, and Johnny mentally kicked himself because… Yeah. He probably wouldn’t know. If the statue thing was him being in hibernation, then he probably wasn’t conscious enough to have any idea.

“Right. Okay. Well. I think we need to go find Raiden then,” Johnny claimed as he began to carry Cassie towards the door. “Because I really wanna know what the fuck is going on.”

“Is that what you wish for, Miss Cassandra?” Kuai Liang asked, following after them.

“Well… I’d prefer the sandwich,” she muttered, pouting slightly. “But if Daddy wants to see Mr. Raiden then I guess we should do that.”

“I see,” Kuai Liang hummed thoughtfully. “Then we will do as Mr. Cage has requested.”

“I mean, I am her father,” Johnny pointed out again. “You should probably refer to me about certain things, before you act on them.”

“Such as?” Kuai Liang asked, tilting his head like he did not understand. Maybe he hadn’t been a protector for a child before, and didn’t know how little self control they had.

“Like, if she asks you to do something stupid like… I dunno… Let her stay up all night.”

That declaration was met with a huff from Cassie as she muttered “dammit.”

“Yeah, I know what you’re like, young lady, and no supernatural guardian is gonna stop you from having a bedtime.”

Kuai Liang looked between them, still clearly not really understanding. Johnny sighed, he tried to think of a way to explain.

“How about this, if she gives you an order that doesn’t relate to her direct safety, maybe just run it past me first, okay?” He didn’t mind Kuai Liang doing things if she was at risk. Protecting her was Johnny’s first priority after all, and if Kuai Liang could help with that, then he’d take everything he could, especially with Kano’s desire for revenge against Sonya. He just didn’t want Cassie abusing her powers to get things like extra cake, making Kuai Liang do embarrassing things or things that could get either of them into trouble.

“I… See…” Kuai Liang nodded thoughtfully, pursing his lips. “If she gives me orders I do not understand, I will ask you first.”

“Good man.”

“Jonathan, Cassandra, there you are,” Raiden’s voice called to them, and they looked just in time to see him running down the corridor. “I’m so relieved you are alright. Did you-” Raiden came to a complete pause, mouth open when he spotted who was with them. “Kuai Liang…”

“Lord Raijin?” Kuai Liang questioned.

Lord Raijin? As in the Shinto thunder god? Just 20 minutes ago he’d have found the idea preposterous, but with everything that just happened? And standing next to a man who came out of a statue?

Raiden being a god was somehow not the weirdest revelation today.

“I think you have some explaining to do, Lord Raijin,” Johnny claimed, narrowing his eyes a little bit.

Raiden sighed in defeat and nodded. “Indeed, I do owe you that much.” He moved to the side and gestured. “This way, I will tell you everything over tea and cake.”

Johnny grumbled, but still went to follow. Meanwhile Cassie had heard the word cake and had gotten excited. Kuai Liang followed along silently, looking concerned about something. Johnny wasn’t sure what that was about. Honestly he wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Raiden better have a damned good explanation for all this.

[lennsart]

This Is Starting To Feel Like Bullying please

Fjfkkdkfidi ok so a little context :

- The title isn't referring to anything in the wip, it's just that I kept writing whump, and since Legend is my favourite character it was CONSISTENTLY him getting in troubles, and it was starting to feel like bullying.

I didn't put a lot of my old whumps in this wips list, but I thought this one was surprisingly well written and earned its place here ! (when I say old it's like the end of last year, I was just starting to write for the fandom)

- When I read short fics, especially during events like whumptober, I often crave for the aftermath. I know the authors often didn't even plan what would happen next, but especially with whumps, I want to know how the characters would recover from the terrible things that happened to them ! How the others would react ! And sometimes, when I read whump and I really really want an aftermath, well, I write something.

ALL THAT TO SAY, I am sorry if you expected something silly, but "This is starting to feel like bullying" is a wip that is about a torture aftermath 😬

There is nothing happening on screen, only the result, but still, it is kind of grim.

I don't know how much I should tell about it... I have to admit I've stopped working on it a while ago, but I'm mostly keeping it as a wip because I feel like I could rework it for a Whumptober prompt !

If you'd like me to go into more details you can ask ! It's the first time I'm talking about my wips so I'm not sure how much I should share gfnjgnjfgfjjn

I'm going to put a snippet under the cut, but be warned, it stops right before the good part lmao (it's the very beginning, I just like how it started) !

“ - Don't think we haven't noticed, ” The traveler hissed, bitter.

His arms were crossed, his brows frowned, and he looked like he was barely stopping himself to just walk away.

“ - What ? ” Twilight asked, genuinely lost.

Hyrule clicked his tongue in annoyance, and scowled at him.

“ - That you're on babysitting duty. ”

The affirmation made Wind roll his eyes and Four turn to him, indignant.

“ - What, you don't think I'm right ? ” Hyrule said to the two younger heroes. “ They think Lege is in the other spot ! They sent us here because we don't know in what state we're going to find him ! Time looked like he had swallowed vinegar when he swapped Wild with Twilight, and it was just because he had the slate. ”

They decided to check the two simultaneously, because they wanted to get their friend back as soon as possible, but one place clearly made more sense than the other.

Unfortunately, Twilight was pretty sure the traveler had a point, there. They had two leads concerning where their veteran was trapped.

One would be practical and discreet, and was closer to where Legend had last been seen.

The other had one witness, who hadn't been convinced himself that what he saw was important.

And Warriors and Time had not so subtly suggested to send all the younger heroes on the probable red herring.

Wild had argued that they'd probably need to stay in contact, and Wind and him had to be in two different teams.

Then, Twilight had felt burning and emphatic looks thrown his way, and he nicely suggested to go with the younger team.

They were supposed to check quickly, call the others when they were done, and go directly to them after. 

Wind was fine with the plan : he just wanted to find Legend as soon as possible, and the lead was worth being checked.

Hyrule and Four... Weren't as thrilled.

Twilight felt just the tiniest spark of relief upon seeing he had one ally in this.

“ - What does it matter ? ” Four shrugged, irritated. “ Let's just do this quickly, and then we'll get to the others. 

  - I don't understand what's with you two, ” Wind declared, staring at his friends. “ We need to check there anyway, right ? If it's empty, well, the others probably got him out ! How is that a problem ? ”

“ - The problem isn't whether we find Legend or not, ” Hyrule explained. “ The problem is that the captain and the old man sent us on the less probable lead because we're younger. ”

He threw a pointed look at Twilight.

“ Tell me I'm wrong. ”

The rancher sighed. He hated this debate, and currently resented Warriors for putting him in this situation.

Twilight rolled his eyes (but not without a smile).

“ - If I'm being honest, I think you're right, ” he admitted. “ But like Wind said, we need to check what's going on here anyway. What's dumb is that Wars really made it sound like the vet was in the other spot, and promptly sent y'all here with me. 

  - So you agree that you're babysitting us, ” Four commented with a smirk.

“ - Both of you have to remember we're not doing a useless job just to keep you occupied, ” he declared, putting a hand on the two boys' shoulders. “ We're going to find him no matter what, but  we need to check that house. ”

At that, Hyrule's shoulders shrunk just a bit. He looked less angry, and more... Miserable, frankly.

“ - I'm so worried, ” he admitted, and rubbed his face with both his hands.

Twilight pat his shoulder twice.

“ - Me too. But we're here for him, alright ? ”

[morning-star-joy]

Hi Doni! So I've been a fan of your writing for a while now, I used to comment on your stuff on AO3 as a guest and your work actually prompted me to make this tumblr, which has laid dormant for a while until recently. Anyway, I've had this idea for a story rattling around in my head for a while and I decided to write my first fanfic! It's more of a creative outlet than anything, I figure if people find it and read it, that's great, but I'm not sure if it's something I'll always have the time for... anyway, my question is, do you have any advice for writing in general? Also, any tips on how to use tumblr at all would be great, maybe some websites that are easy to follow for someone brand new? Im not even sure I know how to create a link to a new page to separate chapters in a story.

Sorry I know this is long, but I figured since I just love your work I would ask you if you had any tips. Thanks!

Hello my dear!! First of all, CONGRATS on starting your first fanfic!!!! That is AMAZING!!!!! Writing fanfiction is so much fun, it's not only a fantastic creative outlet and way to grow as a writer, but it's just such an enjoyable experience to express your love for a piece of work by creating your own art from it.

Honestly, your mindset already going into this is amazing. Fanfic should always be for the joy of creativity first and foremost. Of course we all want validation, and it can be really easy to be sucked into craving positive feedback, but it's important to remind ourselves why we do it in the first place, which is because we love to write, and we love the original source material so much.

I have more writing advice here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

In terms of using tumblr, the way I do fics is creating a new text post, and then if it's a series I create a masterlist (another text post) with links to each chapter. For each chapter I list on the masterlist, I highlight it and click the link button (picture below), then I paste the link to that chapter in there. So people can click from the masterlist and it'll lead to the chapter posts. I hope that makes sense, if not let me know and I'll try and explain it better!

Formatting a fic is up to your personal preference! I usually start with title, use a moodboard I made or a GIF, and then personally I go: Pairing (Joel x Reader for example), a short summary of the fic, tags/warnings and a wordcount. Adding a keep reading is important too so it's not just a super long post! I usually put that divider after a paragraph or two of the fic.

I hope this helps in some way. Again, I'm so happy that you're writing fics, and also thank you for liking my writing. Sending you sm love!!