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steviestits · 3 months ago

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My God Longs For Me - Part 1.3

Written for an anon prompt, which can be read in its entirety on this fic’s masterpost.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: T (E for later chapters) Summary: When Steve was a child, he was abducted and brought to the cult, the Hellfire Club, as he was prophesied to be the wife of the dark forest god they worshiped. Steve enjoyed his time there, especially the time he spent with the cult leader's nephew, Eddie. This wasn't meant to last however as Steve was eventually returned to his parents. Thanks to the deprogrammer that his parents hired and time, Steve has mostly forgotten the cult that raised him. That is until he goes on a camping trip and his friends start to get murdered one by one with the only connection between the killings being the ritual offerings to the cult's gods and the strange dreams Steve has before each one. Now Steve must piece together his past to discover who is murdering his friends in the present. (Inspired heavily by various horror movies and is a horror story itself.) Trigger Warning: None Eventual Trigger Warning: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Ritual Sacrifices, Gore, Mpreg, Body Horror, Monster Fucking, Feminization, Brainwashing

(Link to previous part)

Entering the bar, Steve looked around at the shabby wooden walls and cracked floorboards until his eyes landed on Billy and Tommy drunkenly playing pool. Steve tried to catch their eye and even called out to them, but they ignored him. The pool tables were situated on the furthest wall away from the bar, thankfully, but it did have a dingy yet still functional mirror hung up between the bottled of high-shelf (for this establishment anyway) alcohol, so there was no way they couldn’t see him no matter the angle. He took this to mean that they were actively ignoring him, and he honestly wished his dad had selected better friends for him.

“What a bunch of mouth-breathers,” the bartender said with a disappointed shake of his head.

Objectively good-looking, the bartender had long, dark brown curls that cascaded down his back, framing his lean face to make his chocolate brown eyes pop. A tight t-shirt with the logo of a band that Steve didn’t recognize was stretched across the man’s lean body, displaying every single one of his compact muscles. He wasn’t a name tag, but it wasn’t as Steve needed the other’s name as they wouldn’t be staying much longer in the bar anyway.

Steve strode over to the bar, leaning against the wooden counter with one elbow. The other man didn’t seem to mind and instead grabbed a rag to begin cleaning a few shot glasses in front of him. He didn’t say anything but continued to keep an eye on Billy and Tommy, glowering sourly at the pair as if expecting them to cause trouble.

“If they break anything, I’ll pay for it,” Steve offered sincerely.

“Why are you even friends with them? If you don’t mind me asking, because they seem like more trouble than they’re worth.”

“My dad picked them out for me, believe it or not. It’d be good for the company, is what he said. Improve our investments.”

“Your daddy picked them out? Seriously?” The bartender snorted. “Starting to think those ids they showed me were fake. Aren’t you all grown men?”

“Listen, man, I know. But you don’t know my dad. He can make your life a living Hell if he really sets his mind to it. Easier to just do what he asks.”

“You do something to piss him off then? Only reason I can think of that he’d let you and your friends camp out in these cursed woods.”

“He didn’t pick the location. My friend did. But what do you mean by cursed?”

The bartender raised an eyebrow. “You’re going camping out there, and you don’t even know the story of Hawkins Woods?”

“It’s not like it matters. Curses aren’t real.”

“Isn’t that what everyone in a horror movie says right before they’re killed by the curse they were warned about?”

“That’s in the movies. This is real life.”

With a chuckle, the bartender asked, “Isn’t that what they say in the movies too, though?”

“Fine. Fair enough,” Steve relented. “What’s the story behind Hawkins Woods?”

“Well, you see, it started a few decades ago when the Hellfire Club built a commune just a few miles from here. People began disappearing when they went into the woods, and the ones that didn’t swore that they’d seen a horned being right out of the corner of their eye. They said it was the pagan god that the cult worshiped. Well, the police eventually cracked down on Hellfire, broke the whole thing up, but it only got worse. Instead of disappearances, people were dying, bodies mutilated beyond recognition. Thus, everyone in these parts believe that the Hellfire Club put a curse on these woods and that their god still walks between the trees.”

Frowning, Steve turned the story over in his head. He didn’t remember everything about the Hellfire Club, but he hadn’t thought that they were anywhere close to its location, especially since his dad wouldn’t have wanted to be within the cult’s reach, meaning he would’ve said something if the area was too close. On the other hand, the bartender had no reason to lie to him. What did the man have to gain by making him believe the cult was nearby? He guessed it could be a prank, but it wasn’t a funny one if it was.

“Listen, great story, but that’s all it is, a story.” Steve pushed himself away from the counter. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go collect my friends.”

“What friends?”

Steve opened his mouth to answer, but he looked up to see that the mirror no longer reflect Billy and Tommy. Glancing over his shoulder confirmed to Steve that they weren’t there anymore, which didn’t make sense. Even if they didn’t tell him they were leaving, he thought that he would’ve at least heard them since the two were never the quite type of drunks. He didn’t feel panicked, though. In fact, he actually felt relieved.

Billy was an asshole, and Tommy always sided with him since the jerk muscled his way into their group. Steve’s dad said that Billy was “assertive” and had a ruthlessness to him that he said Steve lacked, which was why he didn’t have a nose for business like the others. The comparison always irked Steve since he didn’t see how screwing people over or bullying them made someone a good business partner.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Who needs them?”

Hearing the bartender speak, Steve returned his attention to him only to find that his form was now twisting, growing larger until he was eerily looming over Steve. Branched, deer-like antlers crept out from underneath the other man’s curly hair while his clothes changed into robes that seemed to be made out of shadows. Then, through the darkness, a deathly pale hand nestled against Steve’s cheek, caressing it while he forced Steve to stare up into his fully black eyes.

It was then that Steve realized what was going on, and he leaned into the touch before he breathlessly whispered, “Eddie.”

Part 1.2 ~ Masterpost ~ Part 1.4

#show: stranger things #steddie #my fics #mygodlongsforme #dead dove do not eat #make certain to read the trigger warnings!#anon prompt

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thedrarrylibrarian · 1 year ago

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Hi! Thanks for running this amazing blog! Lately I've been feeling like reading Drarry fics that would have some nice Harry & Ginny friendship in them, but haven't really been able to find any. You got any recs? Thanks again!

I cannot abide fics in which Ginny is the bad guy! Even in fics where the break up between Harry and Ginny is difficult and complicated, I fully believe that they eventually make it back into friendship. Book Ginny is such a badass, and has nothing but love and support for her best bud, Harry Potter.

Harry and Ginny Friendship

another bridge will have to burn. by anonymous (1,673 words, rated T)

Harry certainly didn't expect to see Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson at a queer Muggle club. He didn't see any of this coming, really.

Elocution by Shaddyr (1,721 words, rated T)

End of the year bonfire night at Hogwarts. Firewhiskey is flowing freely, Ginny is nosy, Harry is rambling and Malfoy just wants to help...

Silver Linings by @kittycargo (2,480 words, rated T)

Harry and Ginny have a long overdue conversation.

Knowing Who I was Before by @janieohio (2,670 words, rated T)

Breaking up is hard, but for Harry and Ginny, staying together isn’t an option if they each want the other to be happy.

Ginny | Your Local Lesbian's Guide to Wooing Draco Malfoy by @skooffuskaild (3,931 words, rated T)

Your Local Lesbian's Guide to Wooing Draco Malfoy by Ginevra Weasley (author of critically acclaimed tome Taking the Broom Out of The Closet: A Memoir and Six Signs You're A Lesbian) is a helpful step-by-step introduction to the confusing and exciting world of courting Malfoy heirs!

Or, Harry and Ginny bond over being queer kids, and manage to successfully ask out Draco Malfoy.

As it was (you know it's not the same) by queercodedvillain (15,832 words, rated T)

Harry's navigating a life he thinks he doesn't deserve and honestly, didn't really think he'd have. For some reason that means a whole lot of Draco Malfoy.

Seeker's High by @corvuscrowned (40,178 words, rated M)

Harry Potter doesn’t expect to take up running years after the war ends; it just sort of happens.

He also doesn’t expect that — as he fights tooth and nail to climb out of a post-war depression he didn’t realize he’d fallen into — he’ll end up running right into the arms of Draco Malfoy.

A half angsty drama, half romcom of Harry working on himself, learning how to accept help from his friends, and falling in love with his childhood nemesis.

Blood and Fire by @lqtraintracks (44,888 words, rated E)

Harry has spent the last twelve years in Romania, not returning to England as often as he knows he should. It's complicated. But when Ginny asks him to be her best man and help her plan her wedding, he can't say no. Having a reckoning with his choices, with himself, won't be easy. To say nothing of seeing Draco again.

Nearly Lost Things, Carefully Tended by @norelationtoatticus (46,653 words, rated E)

Three years after the war, Harry is lost, drifting, and feeling left behind. In an effort to get control of his life, he commits to cleaning out Grimmauld Place top-to-bottom and forcing it to be a home, whether it likes it or not. The rotten old house is stuffed full of antiques, and Harry is shocked to discover none other than Draco Malfoy running the local antique shop. Malfoy is polite -- too polite, and Harry soon finds himself with a mission: to annoy and bother Malfoy with the most hideous, absurd antiques he can find. But along the way, Harry comes to appreciate Draco, his work, and the power of connecting to the people who came before him. It's a hard lesson, but Harry learns that if he wants to build a future, he has to reconnect to his past, and Draco might just be the one to help him do it.

A Gift of True Esteem by @teledild0nix (53,965 words, rated E)

Professor Draco Malfoy believes he has something unique to bring to Hogwarts' History of Magic course. Professor Harry Potter is willing to be convinced.

Had To Be You @lettersbyelise (59,020 words, rated E)

Draco Malfoy is possibly the last person Harry expects to find at the wheel of a Muggle car, on a beautiful summer day on the road to London.

This is the story of how Harry runs into Draco once, twice, three times, and how he doesn’t leave their next meeting to chance.

Such Great Heights by aideomai (93,302 words, rated E)

Draco Malfoy, wide-eyed and pale and in a decidedly ragged shirt, was crouched next to the pile of whatever the dragon had been eating.

Harry threw himself to a halt and yelled, “Merlin, how many times do I have to save your life?”

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Lots of Love and Happy Reading!

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aziraphales-library · 11 months ago

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TW for mention of sexual violence.

Do you have any recs for rape recovery fics? I have read Repossesion by dreamsofspike, and it was good, so I am looking for something similar.

Mind the tags on ALL of these, folks! Here are some rape recovery fics...

Put It On A Shelf by mix_kid_ao3 (M)

Hands holding him, scratching him, hurting him. Pulling and pinching, taking things Crowley never wanted to give—still doesn’t want to give. And he supposes that was the point, wasn’t it? Everyone wants to give and take this particular something. Everyone except him. It‘s a natural part of being a demon, there’s a reason it’s one of the easiest forms of temptation. Crowley wakes kicking.

It goes like this, the catch, the grip by Anonymous (E)

Crowley goes to a party in Hell, and has a traumatic encounter with a powerful demon. Two-thousand years later, Aziraphale tries to understand.

In the Afters by OneofWebs (M)

Aziraphale has been enduring Sandalphon's abuse for centuries. He's become so used to it, he's almost gotten himself to believe that things are fine. When Sandalphon does the unthinkable, and Aziraphale finds himself pregnant--he finally decides that it's not fine. In a sudden rush of freedom, Aziraphale tells Crowley everything. In the aftermath of it, he finds that Crowley doesn't care about the past: only the future that they can share.

What I Am by Anonymous (E)

Aziraphale knows what he is, in Heaven. He’s dirty, and tainted, and easy. He’s good for working off stress. He’s a lower angel, a demoted Cherub banished to Earth and forbidden from saying no. He’s Gabriel’s favourite, though he doesn’t understand why. He knows all too well what he is. But it doesn’t matter. Because Heaven is good, and all that they do must be good in return. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much he hates it. Heaven cannot possibly be wrong. Right?

I'd Do It Over Again (To Keep You With Me) by the_sinnamon_roll_writes (M)

Crowley has some bad (and repressed) memories of some of his time down under, and Aziraphale wants to help when he finds out. I struggled a bit with the rating here- there are no graphic descriptions of non-con (nothings even actually stated, really), but it is implied that it might've happened in the graphic descriptions of torture. I'm not sure that it warranted that tag, but I decided to play it safe and include it.

Stress Relief by Fanlan (M)

Gabriel likes to use Aziraphale to work out pent out frustration and anger, often leaving the Principality bloody, bruised and psychologically scarred.

And the one you mentioned...

Repossession by dreamsofspike (E)

Crowley and Aziraphale's clandestine love affair has spanned the past fourteen years, with Heaven and Hell none the wiser. Or so they thought. Angel and demon alike quickly learn that Heaven can be far crueler than Hell.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #rape/non-con #major archive warning #adult omens #hurt/comfort #heavy angst #mod d

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panfriedstar · 1 year ago

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masterlist

COMPLETED FICS

i guess that's love

G rated, Zosan

Chopper doesn’t understand the mating rituals of humans. He has read about every other animal’s and even the most complicated ones are simpler than whatever Zoro and Sanji are doing.

rhythm of a blood drum

T rated, Zosan

Sanji misses a lot during the two years he is separated from his crew. He misses the Sunny, he misses his kitchen, he misses waking up before everyone to prepare breakfast, he misses Luffy’s voice demanding food all the time, he misses making snacks for everyone. Hell, he even misses Luffy picking fights on every damn island and landing them in some kind of trouble.

He misses his crew, but most of all, he misses Zoro.

in dirty dreams, you're the one i want

E rated, Zosan

Sanji has never been an early riser – at least, not before joining Luffy’s crew. He has always had trouble sleeping at night, too much of his past haunted him still. But he is the chef and has to prepare breakfast before Luffy starts chewing on Sunny.

Sanji learns to cherish every second of sleep he can get. So he doesn’t quite appreciate Zoro waking him up earlier than usual.

sink and drown and die

T rated, Zosan

The Moss is wearing a hoodie. Why is the Moss wearing a hoodie? How does the Moss even know what a hoodie is? His eyes follow Zoro’s figure as he stumbles into the galley while rubbing the sleep from his eyes – cute his brain supplies and Sanji internally recoils in disgust, his dark hoodie hanging loosely on his body. Whatever. This is none of Sanji’s business.

can't count the years in one hand

G rated, Zosan

“I can’t believe we’re married,” He blurts out.

Instead of getting offended, Sanji snorts, “Tell me about it.” He tilts his head and gives Zoro an assessing look, “I wonder what I actually see in you.”

“Fuck off,” He says without any heat. “You cried your eyes out during our wedding.”

“Out of despair.”

sounds just like falling in love

G rated, Zosan

Zoro doesn’t get what all the fuss about wedding preparations is. He and the cook love each other. He already proposed. Now all they need is some decent booze and a ginormous cake for Luffy. And Luffy can easily declare them a wed couple with only a few steps since he’s the captain. What else do they need?

According to Sanji, the answer is a lot of other things.

around the sun and around again

G rated, Zosan

“Sanji,” He feels Zoro’s fingers softly creep over his palm and slide between his fingers. He squeezes Sanji’s hand gently, “I’ve missed you.” And Sanji wants to cry.

fascination with you presentation

G rated, Zosan

Zoro jumps off the ship and lands a few feet away from Sanji. He’s changed a lot in the two years. He abandoned his white shirt and green pants and now has settled for a dark green coat that shows off his entire chest with black pants. He has gotten so much bigger, his body broad and muscles bulging. As the fisherman said, a deep scar runs over his left eye shutting it close. But even that’s not the most noticeable change about him.

It’s his hair. What was once short and spiky are now long waves that reach his shoulder. The water turns the hair darker but some strands still shine golden under the sun. it’s wrapped up in a half-bun on top of his head with a wooden hairpin – or maybe that’s a chopstick, who knows – but his bangs are still falling loosely over his eyes. Zoro pushes his wet bangs back with a flick of his hand and those intense grey eyes land on him.

Oh fuck fuck fuck, Sanji is not going to survive this new look of his.

contradiction

E rated, Zosan

“I’ve already offered them something that they couldn’t deny,” Judge declares. “Something that will help them strengthen their position on the Peace Treaty and give them higher power over the Human Community.”

Trust Judge to sell out his own kind for power.

“And what might…that be, Father?” Reiju sounds hesitant and if Sanji pays attention, which he does, also a bit nervous. She shoots him a short glance and Sanji doesn’t understand what it means until Judge answers her question.

glimpse of...

M rated, Acedeuce

The race is close to ending and by the looks of it, Ace is going to win. But Deuce doesn’t say the words aloud, afraid of jinxing their win. He doesn’t need to say it to jinx it though. Because one second, Ace is approaching his win and then the next the worst thing, something straight out of Deuce’s nightmares, goes down.

best wishes to the birthday boy

G rated, ASL, Acelaw, Ace & WB

Ace wakes up on the morning of his birthday to the sun shining on his face and the smell of pancakes coming from the kitchen.

or, It's Ace's birthday and everyone wants to make him happy.

Le paradis à la portée d’un coussin

E rated, Zosan

Sanji knows that Zoro is taunting him. He knows. The Marimo is being a dickhead as usual and he’s saying this just to get a rise out of Sanji. But Sanji still can’t help the way his brain short-circuits. He shivers and his eyes gloss over. He feels breathless and his mouth's as dry as the deserts of Alabasta.

playboy centrefold

E rated, Acedeuce

He tries to guess what Deuce could’ve gotten him. Especially since it’s something that makes him nervous about Ace’s reaction. Is it clothes, or maybe jewellery? Or maybe shoes. But why would any of these things make Deuce nervous? He has really good taste and Ace likes anything he buys. There is no reason for Ace to not like his gift.

The door clicks open and Ace perks up. “That was definitely more than five min–” The rest of the sentence stuck in his throat. Because Deuce opens the door and slowly steps inside the room. He’s wearing…Ace has no bloody idea what he’s wearing. But he looks so fucking good in it that Ace can feel his brain leaking out of his ears.

adoration

E rated, Zosan

Sanji whimpers and presses closer to him. He looks at him with his ridiculous blue eyes that are wide and glowing with unshed tears and a trembling pout on his lips. Zoro can feel the heat rise to his face and it has nothing to do with the sun above shining down on them. He turns his face away so that he doesn’t have to look at the cook’s face anymore. The cook–Sanji is…he’s so cute.

or, five times Zoro thinks Sanji is adorable and one time he tells Sanji that.

frozen devotion

E rated, Zosan

Sanji doesn’t know if he’s completely comfortable with consummating their marriage on an altar in front of so many people.

little steps

G rated, Luffy & Sanji

Sanji’s not sure why they are moving to a new neighbourhood.

homes

G rated, Strawhats & Sanji, Baratie & Sanji

Sanji grows up in the Baratie. The restaurant is the first place he considers home.

try living

G rated, Zoro & Sanji, Robin & Sanji

For Sanji, love is sacrifice.

boredom

G Rated, Zosan

Sanji has no idea what the hell is happening in this class.

warmth

G Rated, Zosan

Zoro glares at him but suddenly his eyes light up with playfulness. He turns to the kids and says, “I think Papa had a bad day at work today. What do we do when Papa has a bad day?”

Ryuu and Sora throw their hands up and cheer, “Tickle party!”

appreciating your design

E rated, Zosan

Sanji isn’t unhappy with his life. Quite the opposite actually. Since he could work a stove, Sanji studied hard and cooked and cooked until he perfected whatever recipe he was learning. He attended the best culinary school in all four blues, placing top of his class each semester. He trained under the most wonderful chefs in the world as well as cooked for and more than satisfied the most difficult critiques. He opened up the restaurant he’s dreamed of since he was a child and earned all three of the Michelin stars.

And his greatest achievement, he made Zeff proud.

He’s worked hard and fulfilled all of his dreams. Well, maybe not all of them.

pained affection

G rated, Zosan

Zoro doesn’t know how the animosity and rivalry between him and the cook starts. He knows they’ll never actually hurt each other but still, the thrill of going against him is always greater than any enemy they’ve fought against. Zoro has immense respect for Sanji; he’s strong and is always ready to do anything to protect the crew. But that never stops Zoro from poking at him and rilling him up. It’s his favourite way to pass the time after all.

holy cow, you're the holy trin'

E rated, Lulaw

Law is so busy enjoying his drink and watching out for Luffy that he doesn’t notice the wetness on his chest at first. But soon, the fabric of the yukata starts sticking to his skin and feeling clammy, and when Law looks down to check if he accidentally spilt his drink, he sees something much worse happening.

He’s lactating.

Today. Tomorrow. Forever

E rated, Lulaw

“I love you, Torao. You're the best.”

The first time he says it, Luffy is drunk.

(or, 4 times Luffy says I love you and 1 time Law says it back.)

How to shack up your two hot business partners - A guide from Buggy the Clown

E rated, Cross Guild Polycule

Buggy has always fallen upwards. For the first time in his life, that might be a good thing.

keep your body open

E rated, Lulaw, Nikalaw

“Why can’t you date the brothers, though?” Penguin asks, and all three of them turn to stare at him. Penguin stares back at them, not looking bothered at all, and a pregnant silence falls upon them.

Or, Law and this journey to dating the Monkey Twins

devastated by you

E rated, Sabokoby

All air leaves his lungs as he's unexpectedly shoved into a wall. A gloved hand wraps around his neck, another closes over his mouth, and a knee is pushed between his legs. Koby's eyes widen, and he thrashes under the surprisingly strong hold. His arms shoot forward to push the person off, but they don't budge.

"Well, well," the person chuckles, sounding amused. "This is quite unexpected?"

Are you a cat? Because I've fallen fur you

E rated, Lulaw

Law frowns as he hears a knock. First of all, it's five in the goddamn morning and he was just about to go to bed, and second of all, no one has visited Law in over a century - except Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi who know better than to disturb him this early - so why now? Law lives this deep in a magical forest so that people stay the hell away from him. Couldn't they come when Law's a little less tired? In a few more centuries. Maybe.

running out of light

E rated, Sabokoby

Sabo is five years old, and his parents keep telling him that he's a god.

ONGOING FICS

nine lives

T rated, Zosan

After years of living under the abuse of Judge and his brothers, Sanji is slowly losing his sanity. When he desperately needs an escape, a huge talking cat, calling themselves The Mask Seller, offers him something that changes his life forever.

heart working overtime

E rated, Lulaw

“Did you know? If you're still a virgin by the time you're thirty, you'll get mind reading abilities.”

This is all Shachi's fault.

#materlist #one piece #zosan #acedeuce #asl brothers #asl trio #acelaw #straw hat pirates #baratie #cross guild #crocodile x buggy x mihawk #nikalaw #sabokoby #yumi's stories

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romione-trope-fest · 9 months ago

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The One Where Ron and Hermione are Fake Not Dating

Fic Title: The One Where Ron and Hermione are Fake Not Dating

Author Name: voldemorts-tap-shoes/smjl

Selected Trope: Fake Not Dating (with a side of Cockblocker Harry and a dash of Weasley Weddings)

Brief Summary: Ron and Hermione sleep together the night before Harry and Ginny’s wedding and then hide their new relationship from their friends and family. (Inspired by Monica and Chandler's relationship on Friends)

Word Count: Ch1 - 3216

Rating: E

Any Trigger Warnings: none

***

Pt. 1

The One With The Dress

—-

Hermione wonders vacantly as she downs her third glass of champagne how many more it will take to dull her headache. On the bright side, if the champagne fails, this time tomorrow the wedding will be over and the bulk of her maid of honour duties will be finished. But tonight is only the rehearsal dinner, and despite her friends’ puzzling decision to get married in New York City, the ballroom is absolutely packed with guests. Aren’t destination weddings supposed to be small? Why are all these people here?

Oh, right, because it’s Harry freaking Potter and Ginny bloody Weasley. The wedding of the century.

Hoping that four will be the magic number, Hermione looks around the room for one of the waiters that’s been circling with booze all night. Even in her wildly uncomfortable stiletto heels, she can’t spot any of them, and her path to the bar is blocked by several grey-haired Ministry officials who will surely take the opportunity to drag her into their policy talk if she gets close enough. No, thank you. She’ll take her chances with the headache.

Better yet, maybe she can find Ginny and see if she’s actually still needed at this raucous party. She hasn’t seen the bride in over an hour, so it’s not like Hermione is doing anything to help her anyway. She’s just here. Molly and Sirius have taken care of all the logistics, and the other bridesmaids folded five hundred napkins into origami animals earlier for the reception tomorrow. With all that done, Hermione thinks that the most useful thing she can do at this point is get a good night’s sleep.

She checks her watch with a sigh; it’s only seven o’clock. Of course, back in London, it’s going on midnight, and Hermione hasn’t yet gotten over her jet lag. Portkey lag? Do wizards have a term for this phenomenon?

Maybe she has had enough champagne.

Still, she’s grateful for the cool flute that appears in her hand bearing a refill, and the grinning wizard who hands it to her. “You look like you could use this,” Ron says jovially, clinking his own glass against hers. “And one of those old Ministry farts—Barry or something—“ He waves a hand in the general direction of the bar. “—wants to talk about your werewolf legislation when you have a moment.”

Hermione downs half of the champagne in one go and rolls her eyes. “Don’t they know this is a party?” she complains. “Don’t they ever stop working?”

“Reckon they’re so old they’re like Binns at this point,” Ron jokes. “They just wake up and keep doing what they do every day, no matter the location.”

“I suppose.” The rest of the champagne follows in short order, and Ron raises an eyebrow as Hermione vanishes her empty glass.

“You okay?” he asks skeptically, though he extends his own untouched flute toward her. “I’m not sure if I should cut you off or give you a refill.”

Hermione waves off the offer of champagne with a flick of her hand. “I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh.” Ron rolls his eyes, clearly not believing her. “Come on, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” Hermione insists. “Some other old Ministry fart—” That’s definitely the champagne talking; Hermione would never ordinarily say that, even if she thinks it. “—thought that I was Harry’s mum.”

“Oh, that guy.” Ron grimaces. “Ignore him, he’s completely pissed. Earlier, he thanked me for my very moving duet with Celestina Warbeck.”

His response elicits just a hint of a smile from Hermione. “No, I know. Even if Harry’s parents weren’t famously deceased, I know I don’t look old enough to be his mother.”

“Okay, so let’s have some fun, then.” Hermione knows she still doesn’t look convinced, and Ron goes on, “It’s Harry and Ginny’s wedding. This is supposed to be, like, the happiest day of our lives so far.”

“Their lives, you mean,” Hermione corrects him. “And to hear my mother tell it, you escorting me tomorrow as the witch of honour and best wizard is the closest I’ll ever get to walking down the aisle myself, so I’d better enjoy this one.”

Reflexively, Hermione glances over her shoulder, but she’s not sure she even cares if her mum overhears. Maybe then she’ll realize how ridiculous she’s being with all her pointed hints about Hermione finding a husband. As if she’s got nothing better to do with her life.

“Is that what’s actually got your knickers in a twist?” Ron asks with a grin. “Want me to pull you out to the dance floor and snog you in front of everyone so that she’ll leave you alone?”

Hermione rolls her eyes. “As enticing an offer as that is—” And Merlin’s pants, Ron has no idea how enticing “—I think I’m going to head upstairs. Make sure everything’s in order for tomorrow.”

“It is. I promise. I saw your list.” Ron turns his big blue puppy-dog eyes on her, and Hermione feels her resolve melting. “Seriously, forget about your mum and that drunk bastard. Come and dance?”

He drains his champagne glass and vanishes it before holding out his hand in invitation. “Oh, alright,” Hermione sighs, only feigning irritation at her best friend. “But let me get these shoes off first. I can’t get a cushioning charm to stick, and my feet are killing me.”

Ron follows Hermione over to the lavishly decorated table that’s been reserved for the bridal party. All of the tables have a designated seating arrangement, but they’ve been mostly empty throughout the night as the party swirls around the room.

Hermione sits down in one of the plush dining chairs and crosses her foot over her other knee, attempting to work the complicated straps of her shoe. Why she let Ginny talk her into buying these ridiculous heels for this weekend is beyond her comprehension, and the ones she’s wearing tomorrow are even worse.

“Why are you wearing those barmy things, anyway?” Ron asks as he watches her struggle. “They look like bloody torture devices.”

“According to Witch Weekly, they’re meant to drive you mad with longing,” Hermione quips, then realizes her mistake. “I mean—not you, specifically, I mean—wizards. In general.”

Ron’s ears are pink when she looks up at him, but he breezes past her misstep. “They look more likely to drive you mad,” he jokes as she finally drops both shoes to the floor and sighs in relief. “What about your dress?”

“What about it?”

Hermione tugs self-consciously at the too-short hem and brushes an invisible speck of dirt from the fabric. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t picked this item out with one very specific wizard in mind, but now that his eyes are raking over it, lingering on the deep V of the neckline, she’s nervous about his reaction.

“Is it comfortable?”

“Oh.” Of course that’s all he wants to know. She’s not driving him mad at all. He’s just concerned about her well-being, damn him.

Hermione forces a smile to her face. As her best friend, of course he’s concerned about her. It’s not his fault she doesn’t just want him as her best friend. “Yes, much better than the shoes,” she replies, letting Ron pull her to her feet.

“Okay, good. It’d cause a bit more of a stir to just leave your dress at the table, I reckon.”

Ron shoots her a cheeky grin before leading her to the dance floor, and Hermione can’t help but wonder—how much champagne has he had? He never flirts with her like this.

He’s not flirting, Hermione scolds herself as they find an open spot in the crowd. He’s just trying to make you feel better. Let him.

They dance their way through several upbeat songs before the music slows down and Ron pulls Hermione in close, gently swaying her to the softer tune. As she catches her breath, Hermione sighs against Ron’s chest. “Does your mum ever give you a hard time?” she asks him, her mind wandering again as the champagne buzz begins to wane. “About not being married?”

She feels Ron shrug against her cheek. “Nah. Maybe if I was the last holdout, but Charlie’s existence means she’ll never have a full set of kids-in-law. And she might’ve lost track at this point, anyway.” He pulls away slightly to look her in the eye. “Is this really bothering you?”

The sincerity in Ron’s gaze makes the honesty come easily. “More than it should,” she admits. “And normally it doesn’t, but…I don’t know, just seeing how happy Harry and Ginny are and my mum nagging me…” Hermione sighs. “What if she’s right? What if I never have this?”

Ron tugs her back into his embrace. “You will. I know you will. You’re smart and beautiful and caring and…who wouldn’t want you?”

You don’t. Fortunately, she manages to keep that snarky thought to herself and say something more appropriate instead.

“Thanks,” she says as she disentangles herself. “And thanks for cheering me up. I think I’m ready to turn in, though. Big day tomorrow.”

Ron doesn’t protest this time, just offers, “Walk you back to your room?”

Hermione nods and hurries to collect her shoes from the table where she left them. Her hand brushes against Ron’s as they walk down the deserted hotel hall away from the ballroom, and the innocent touch sends a shiver up her spine. She tries to shake it off as they reach the lift and step inside, but the confined space is not helping alleviate the tension between them.

Stop it. You’re imagining things.

“For what it’s worth,” Ron ventures as she presses the button for her floor, “I still think you’re completely mental about the shoes, but, um…the dress is doing its job.”

She turns around to give him a curious look. “What job?”

He lifts a hand to her bare shoulder, skimming his fingers along her collarbone until he hits the fabric of her dress, his fingertips just delving beneath the wide strap. “Driving me mad,” he says, his voice low and husky.

The elevator dings to a stop, but Hermione is paying no mind as the doors whoosh open and then close again. There’s no mistaking the hungry look in Ron’s eyes, and her heart is pounding as she steps closer to him.

“I only bought this dress so you could take it off,” she whispers back. If she has somehow mistaken the signals Ron is sending, she can blame her boldness on the champagne.

He doesn’t leave her wondering, though. In a flash, Ron’s arms wrap around her and his lips crash down on hers. Her stilettos drop forgotten from her fingers and clatter against the shiny metal floor of the lift. A moan escapes Ron as her hands tangle in his hair, deepening the kiss, and Hermione lets out a similar groan of pleasure as he presses her back to the wall, pinning her there with his body. Not that she has any desire to move. Except maybe to her room. Definitely to her room.

Hermione reaches blindly along the wall for the button to open the doors, but the bulk of her attention is still focused on kissing Ron, and she sends the lift traveling upward again instead. “Shit,” she mutters as it stops on another floor.

Ron laughs and murmurs against her cheek, “My room is on this floor.”

That will work. His suggestion is met with a quick nod of approval, and she sticks her foot into the doorway before the lift can close again. Ron takes Hermione’s hand, bending down to scoop up her abandoned shoes with his other, and tugs her down the hallway. His room is only a few doors away from the lift, and in a matter of moments, they’re tucked inside it, attached at the mouth again and stumbling toward the bed.

They land on the fluffy duvet in a tangle of limbs, and Ron’s lips begin the downward journey along the dress’s plunging neckline, following the path his eyes took earlier. As he tugs one of the straps down her shoulder, finding nothing beneath it, he lifts his gaze back to hers.

“Hermione,” Ron breathes, and the whole world stops at the sound of her name on his lips. “How much did you have to drink?” he asks worriedly. “Because I don’t want to do this if—”

Hermione tugs at the collar of his shirt to pull his face back to hers for another kiss. “I want this,” she promises. If anything, she’s the one taking advantage of him, but she doesn’t want to think too hard about that right now, either. Even if this is just to make her feel better about her nonexistent love life, it’s obvious Ron wants it too. At least for tonight. They can figure the rest out later.

Ron’s hand finds its way back to the strap, but he hesitates again, looking up at her with a smirk. “You really bought this dress for me?”

Her first instinct is to laugh it off, to say that no, she just wanted to look nice for a special occasion, but Ron’s other hand has drifted underneath her skirt, and he’s about three inches away from finding out that she hasn’t got any knickers on, either. He groans at the lack of obstruction under the dress, and when his fingers find their mark, the truth slips out of her.

“Yes,” Hermione gasps. It’s an answer to his question as much as an invitation to keep doing what he’s doing, and he takes it as such, increasing the pace of his fingers as he mutters a swear of approval.

Ron has her completely unraveled in no time, and as his hand reappears from under her skirt, she realizes they’re both still completely clothed. Well, as completely as they were when they walked in, anyway, considering Hermione decided to forgo any undergarments for the evening. They could still stop. Call it a lapse in judgment fueled by too much champagne. Not ruin their friendship—because surely once they have sex, their friendship will never be the same, right? There’s no way to come back from this.

Does she want to come back from this? No, she doesn’t, but she also doesn’t know what Ron wants. Now doesn’t seem like the right time to ask, and anyway, he started it, with that comment about her dress and…

“Was that okay?” Ron’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts, his brow furrowing as he peers down at her. “You’re looking at me all funny.”

“No, it was—better than okay.” Her chest still heaving, she reaches up to fiddle with the knot in his tie, which is now askew under his shirt collar but still intact. “I was just thinking how weird it is that this doesn’t feel weird. You and me. I mean, we don’t really do this.”

That’s an understatement, but it’s somewhere to start. For all the years they’ve been friends, and all the times Hermione has wondered what it would be like to be more, they’ve never even approached the line, let alone crossed it. Now here they are jumping into bed together with no hesitation and no idea of what comes next.

The frown on Ron’s face gives way to a soft smile. “No,” he agrees, ducking his head to brush his nose against hers. “It doesn’t feel weird at all.”

He presses his lips to hers again, and she allows herself to sink into the kiss, the heat between them quickly returning. Ron makes quick work of her dress this time, leaving her completely bare beneath him, and he’s looking at her like he won the lottery as the fabric slithers off the edge of the bed and hits the floor.

Hermione reaches for his tie, intent on actually removing it this time, but then realizes that he’s still got about a hundred other items of clothing on after that. As much as she knows she would enjoy undressing him, revealing his body piece by piece, she also doesn’t want to waste that much time. She snatches his wand out of his back pocket instead and vanishes everything he’s wearing in an instant. Ron blinks in surprise before a grin splits his face. “Bloody brilliant, you are.”

Every inch of her body is fused with Ron’s as he drops his weight to his elbows and kisses her again. Hermione parts her legs to let Ron settle between them, and they let out identical moans at the tantalizing feeling of almost being joined. Ron lifts his face from hers just enough to croak out, “Are you—”

“Potion,” she confirms with a nod. “Please, Ron.”

With one smooth thrust, Ron buries himself inside her, and Hermione sighs contentedly. Her fantasies about this moment did not do the reality justice, and she catalogs every incredible sensation that arises as she and Ron move together. They find a rhythm as if they’ve been doing this for years, and the increased friction as Hermione hikes her leg up over Ron’s hip has her careening towards her peak once more.

Is it supposed to be this easy—this amazing—sleeping with your best friend?

Ron’s hand slips between them and brings her second orgasm crashing over her. Hermione can’t help the cries of pleasure that escape her, and Ron follows her over the edge moments later, spilling into her with a final jerk of his hips.

“Fuck,” he groans into her neck as he rides out his release, Hermione dragging her fingers through his hair.

He slides out of her and rolls to his side, pulling her along with him, and Hermione happily snuggles under his arm. “That was amazing,” she murmurs, letting her fingertips dance across the freckles on Ron’s chest. Everything happened so fast, she barely even got a chance to look at him. Now she wants to touch and appreciate every inch of him.

“Yeah, it was.” Ron chuckles as he reaches for his wand and casts a cleansing charm over both of them. He opens his mouth and then closes it again, and Hermione is ready to prod him about it when he says, “I guess we should get some sleep. Get ready for tomorrow.”

The words pop Hermione’s blissful little bubble, bringing her back to reality. This was just sex. Of course it was. He was doing her a favor. She knows this, but the reminder stings. “Right,” she sighs. “Big day.”

She’s about to move away and reach for her dress when Ron drags the crumpled duvet up from the foot of the bed and drapes it over both of them. Maybe that wasn’t a hint for her to leave, after all. Hermione raises an eyebrow at him. “Do you want me to stay?”

“Oh.” Ron’s mouth twists into a little frown. “Er—well, yeah. If you want to.”

Of course she does, but fear grips her that she’s just delaying the inevitable heartbreak til morning. Sod it. What’s one night?

Hermione relaxes against him, relishing his warmth and the soothing motion of his hand running up and down her spine as she begins to drift off. Whatever happens tomorrow and the day after that, at least they have tonight.

#submission

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griefabyss69 · 2 months ago

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Grief's Big LARP AU Post

Bonjoureee, here is my on-going list of installments for my LARP AU!

Titles are tumblr links and AO3 links are beside them. Start with the first fic! This is all one story.

» Last Man Standing - 15.6K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: N/A Tags: Eddie Teaches Steve D&D, Blowjobs, LARPing, Sexual Roleplay, Tattoos, Fanart

I drew fanart for this one <3

Steve asks Eddie to teach him how to play D&D.

Eddie has no idea what’s in store for him as Steve throws him for a loop, making the game into something that changes Eddie on a molecular level, if his dick is to believed. Excerpt:

Steve puts up a good fight, and Eddie puts up a fight that would make a wet sock look heroic in comparison. Eddie's only got five HP left when he changes tactics, not ready for his character to be dead already.

"Blood running down from under his hat, his gasping to catch his breath, winded from this battle, my character holds up a hand. He implores of you, 'Please, have mercy and spare me from death, let me continue on my journey and I shall give you my mace.', what do you do?"

Steve blinks at him, surprise ebbing away as he mulls it over, pencil tapping against his chin.

Eddie gets up to refill his glass with water, taking the time to stretch a bit as he waits.

"I hold the tip of my sword at his throat, looking him over," Steve says, catching his attention. He gives Eddie a little smirk, one that's barely there but is somehow way sexier than any other expression he's made before. "And I tell him, 'I'll spare your life under one condition'."

» Interlude - 6K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: Semi-public sex Tags: Pre-Relationship, Car Sex, Oral Sex, Humiliation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Light Bondage, In Public

Eddie and Steve do it again, this time without any roleplaying, and in Steve's car instead.

Excerpt: "Do you want to pull over so I can blow you or should we wait until after you take me to the diner?" He asks, allowing himself to be presumptuous about a few things.

Steve's mouth opens and closes a few times before he looks around, using his turn signal even though the road is empty and has been empty for a while, pulling over to the side of the road.

"Guess that's your answer," he says, putting the car in park and shutting it off. "Crack your window."

They roll the windows down an inch and Eddie gets Steve's dick out before he's even unbuckled his seat belt, not caring that it hits him in the face when he does get it undone. Any injuries that occur here are a badge of honor and something to poke at while jerking off, no matter how stupid they are.

» Stargasm - 11K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: None Tags: LARPing, Bondage, Nipple Play, Sexual Roleplay, Anal Fingering, Cum Slut Eddie Munson, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Humiliation

After they recover from their interesting night in Steve's car, Eddie and Steve get up to some more LARPing, this time with Steve as the Demon King who bests Sir Eddie the Banished Knight.

Eddie's still not sure where they stand in their relationship, but it feels good to be with him, and the time they spend after the hot sex is really nice.

Excerpt:

"Also," Steve's saying, pulling Eddie out of his thoughts about what Steve would look like with a real demon tail. "Since you liked it so much in the car, I was wondering that if I defeat you... could I tie you up?"

He winces a little, not like he's nervous, but more like he's expecting Eddie to be.

Eddie pulls the helmet off so Steve can absolutely hear him clearly, looking him in the eye.

"Only if you get really mean about it," he says, watching Steve's eyebrows raise.

» so take a bite of me, just once - 10.3K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: None Tags: Biting, Sexual Roleplay, LARPing, Vampire Roleplay, Teeth, Blindfolds, Cum Play

(Tie in with the Paraphilia series) Odaxelagnia is a kink where individuals experience sexual arousal from biting or being bitten.

Excerpt:

The door creaks open slowly, the dim lighting from the hall spilling blue tinted into Eddie's lair, a gentle haze of back-light against the warm illumination of the most delicious human he's ever seen.

So obedient, carrying out everything he's asked of him around his Castle, even blindfolding himself just so he's stuck under Eddie's command around others who could break it.

"Give me your hands," he says, a soft order.

Steve lifts his arms, hands palm up for him. Openness and truth, manufactured, but still appreciated.

» Intermission - 7.7K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: Chronic Illness Tags: Pining, Pre-Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Non sex tags are: Overstimulation, Chronic Illness, Grounding, Memory Issues, Cooking, Non-Sexual Intimacy

Maybe Eddie should've said no when Steve asked to come over, but he wasn't thinking too hard - his brain wasn't working too hard on anything but the urge to scream.

So when Steve does come over and sees that Eddie is having a really bad time, he takes care of him.

And when Eddie is feeling much better later, Steve takes care of him.

Excerpt:

Even the experience of Steve guiding him to his own bedroom and directing him to lay down on his bed as he starts stripping off layers – jacket and shoes and sweater and jeans and shirt – can't shake how Eddie's brain might be setting off someone's seismic activity detector somewhere in town.

It's a shame. Laying back on his bed, usually a hobby he's great at, ruined by the way he's almost shaking with how he just can't fucking relax, how he can feel every bump and lump and wrinkle in his clothes and the bedding and the mattress and his pillows. From the outside perspective it looks like the beginning to many of his wet dreams, but right now he's got Steve's beautiful, glorious body all half naked and the threat of a good time hanging in the air and he doesn't want to have sex with him.

» Swallow Me Leaden Sky - 40.7K - Rated: E - [ AO3 ] - CW: None Tags: Friends With Benefits, LARPing, Sexual Roleplay, Porn Watching, Bondage, Rope Bondage, Forniphilia, Human Furniture, Bookstores, Service Submission, Light flirting with OMC, Self-Discovery, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Rockstar & Bodyguard roleplay, Eddie Munson's Guitar, Nude Photos, Exhibitionism, Verbal Humiliation, Service Kink, Biting, Prank Calls, Sixty-Nining, slow burn but they're fucking the whole time, Two insatiable men get in a fight against time itself

Steve likes little trips into the city with Robin, he likes the deep driving well in his gut, and he likes laying on Eddie's bed, watching him get ready for the day.

He doesn't always have the words for any of it, and he takes a while to catch up to his own feelings, but he thinks he's starting to get there.

Excerpt:

Eddie slides out of his chair, unable to keep his energy contained to two square feet of space, walking around and really getting into the dramatic part of playing a guitar—he's gone from figuring out random melodies to playing songs he knows, and he looks good doing it. Steve's hopes are sky high, but he’s confident that if he just tries hard enough he can fulfill this nebulous craving of his.

#griefabyss69 writing #LARP AU #griefabyss69 masterpost

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cailynwrites · 11 months ago

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Harry Potter Rec Fest Day 26 - an ending you can't stop thinking about

Thinking about a fic after you finish reading it is, I believe, one of the highest compliments an author can be paid. I read/listen to a lot of fic, but here are a few for @hprecfest Day 26 that stick out in my memory.

the dogfather by @nonasuch Pairing: none Word count: 47,681 Rating: T

Fix-its are, of course, always refreshing, but this one stuck out to me particularly. It's funny, and sweet, and moves quickly, but it perfectly captures how much harm could have been prevented if a few small things had changed. I don't want to spoil anything, but imagine if canon were less than 50K words ...

The Inconvenient Death(s) of Harry Potter by @nv-md Pairing: Draco x Harry Word count: 33,105 Rating: E

Harry and Draco have spent the decade since the War avoiding each other, even as they’re forced to work together at the Ministry and their friend groups begin to alarmingly overlap. But what happens when Harry meets a tragic end (in a manner of speaking) and Draco’s the only one who can save him? Or Harry won’t stop dying, Draco’s had too much coffee, and there’s more than enough time for them to make a mess of each other’s lives.

I'm partial to time loops because I love Prisoner of Azkaban and Doctor Who. I think it shows a certain kind of creativity to be able to imagine the same basic events in a variety of different ways and bring them to a satisfying conclusion. This story ups the ante by having Draco try to prevent Harry's death.

Connecting Lines, Connecting Crimes by @sleepstxtic Pairing: Draco x Harry Word count: 15,216 Rating: M

I already piled on @xanthippe74's rec of this fic here, but I simply can't stop gushing about this story. Suffice it to say, this work is so clever in the way it uses magic to demonstrate the power imbalance between so-called "developed" and "developing" nations, especially with regard to the environment. Have I piqued your interest yet?

************************************************************************

And finally, a couple of little self-recs ...

The Warmth at Our Backs by @malpal132 - a Podfic (Spotify) Pairing: Draco x Hermione Word count: 5,915 Length: 42:24 Rating: M

This fic was written and recorded for @etl-echo-audiobooks's Winter WonderFics Fest last year. It's a little dark and a lot wonderful. It has an excellent sexy mirror scene, and the plot is something I don't see often enough: Draco actually needing to save Hermione from something (herself and her quest for knowledge).

Shapes in the Deep by @ac1d6urn and taxonomic with podfic by me Pairing: Harry x Severus Word count: 20,068 Length: 2:10:14 Rating: E

I was so pleased to participate in the @snarrybang 2023 with these creative people. It's creepy and Lovecraftian, but also funny and weird. It's based on the video game Dredge, which I haven't played and which seems too scary for me. But it's a great setting for this different kind of Snarry. Technically, it's not the ending that I can't stop thinking about, but the climax right before; I still get shivers.

#hprecfest2023 #hp podfic #godfather sirius black #drarry #snarry #dramione #dredge

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dramioneasks · 2 years ago

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Yess! “Draco will buen the world down for Hermione” is my favorite trope it’s needs it’s own tag lol. Do you have any other recs of fics like this? I want them all. Also, thank you so much for what you do here with this blog

Night Of The Hunter by QueenVulca - M, WIP - He’s evil and he knows it. He knows he can burn the world for her, he can be good for her, he’s crazy about her, wants *only* her. She has his fidelity.. What more can you ask from an Incubus?

I will burn the whole world for you by katiekrum - not rated, WIP - I'm breathing your tears. You are healing my scars. He bent down so he could whisper into her ear. "I know Ronald Weasley was your first love. I'm asking you for a chance to let me turn our friendship into something more. If you let me, I'll be your last love."

Beyond The Garden's Veil by Ladyamethyst91 - E, WIP - Draco Malfoy lowers his wand and drops Harry’s limp body face-first into the sand. I’m so overcome with the thrill of hearing Harry’s immediate groan that I don’t even panic that a Death Eater has followed us here, wherever ‘here’ is. “Penance,” says Draco, rolling Harry over with his boot. “The Chosen One in exchange for safe passage to wherever the fuck the Order’s headquarters are stationed.” It’s the last thing I remember before my body gives out.

Tainted by Catmint and Thyme (Languish_Locked_in_L) - E, WIP - At sixteen years old Draco Malfoy manifested as veela. At seventeen he was forced to torture his mate. Eight years later, she showed up at his door. — A Dark Veela Fic

Bad Omen by ThedreamerandTheDance - E, WIP - Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater. Draco Malfoy defected to the order, delivering the Elder Wand to the hands of Hermione Granger. Draco Malfoy changed the war. Draco Malfoy was cleared of all charges. That’s what Lyra’s history books say. To her though, Draco Malfoy is her best friend. Her dancing partner. Her piano teacher. Her Father. And her Mother, well she’s her whole world. Fifteen years after the war, the Granger-Malfoys are happy. But there’s whispers circling. People gathering. Watchful eyes. Worried smiles. A pureblood uprising. A thirst to reclaim what once was.. But Harry Potter is no longer the target. No, the name on their tongue is different - a thirst for something new. A blood traitor. A defector. A man who changed the war. And his halfblood daughter too. But Hermione Granger-Malfoy no longer believes in morality. Not after everything. Not after the second war. And she’ll burn the world down to keep those she loves most safe.

Watch as I Soar by PhoebeADA - E, WIP - "I'm not good enough for you. But no one is. And most men, good or bad, have limits to what they would do, even for someone they love. I have none. No God, no moral code, no faith in anything... Except for you. I would do anything you asked. I would fight, steal, or even kill for you. Hermione, I would burn the world, if you asked me to."

-Lisa

#anonymous #intense love

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nikarie5 · 1 year ago

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Sugar Rush - snippet

Rating: General audience. No ships. Juvenile diabetes, bullying, racism, and sexism. Incorrect medical advice. Excessive use of commas and run-on sentences.

General description: Remus helps one of his summer Cubs navigate how to continue in sports after a diagnosis of Type 1A diabetes. Thanks to @lumosinlove for the characters, @noots-fic-fests for the prompts and cards, and @hazelnoot-analyst for their archive work :)

Remus sifted through his inbox, which was usually pretty quiet during the summer months before training camp kicked off. There would, however, sometimes be the odd e-mail from a parent related to the Cubs teams he coached, so he continued to check his Lions' e-mail everyday. Sure enough, today, he had two e-mails, one from the ice manager about when the Cubs were expected to arrive for their special arena tour the coming week. One from - hmmm - one from the administration forwarding an e-mail from Mr. Sanchez, father to one of the more gifted Cubs Remus has coached in the past three seasons. Lucía had joined their program as a seven year old, and now, at nine, was one of the best skaters and players on the ice. She had worked hard to catch up to the kids who had grown up on the ice, learning to skate as soon as they could walk, and she showed an instinctive grasp of hockey tactics and reading plays on the fly. She had missed last week, and he hoped this wasn't bad news. Remus clicked open the e-mail, scanned it quickly, then let out a breath. It wasn't good news, but it certainly wasn't as bad as he feared. Lucía had just been diagnosed with juvenile diabetes, and was afraid that she couldn't play hockey anymore. Remus fired out a response, inviting Lucía and her father to a meeting before the next practice. Then, he hit the books. Well, he hit the internet, collecting resources from reliable sites he already knew of and sniffing out some sites with information that might be more accessible to an 8-year old, and some resources in Spanish, just in case. Then he called his buddy Jake, a former NFL tight end Remus had met during his courses at Madison. Jake, a Type 1A diabetic, did a couple of sessions at the university each year for aspiring trainers on how to assist athletes with diabetes, and Remus had stayed in touch. He also fired off an e-mail to Luke Kunin, who had started working with the Madison sports trainers in high school while Remus was finishing up his program, even though Kunin's freshman year was after Remus' graduation. The following Tuesday, Remus felt ready to go. He met Lucía and Mr. Sanchez in the lobby, and ushered them through to his office so they could be assured of privacy. It broke his heart a little to hear Lucía look so defeated when she declared that she couldn't play anymore. Diabetic Mexican girls have no place on the ice, her doctor said. At that, Remus shot a look to Mr. Sanchez, whose jaw had clenched so tight, Remus was afraid he might crack a tooth. "But, you are from Honduras. Lucía, don't believe anything someone says if they can't even get that right once you've told them. Your doctor is very, very, very wrong." "The school says it too, and other players. Only some girls can play hockey, and not brown girls, and not sick brown girls. They say I will get a sugar rush and fall down whenever I skate fast. And they say I will get too fat to skate, only fat Mexicans get diabetes." "I am sorry you had to listen to that. None of what they say is true. I will keep a stronger ear out for that kind of bullying and ask the other coaches to do better too. That kind of attitude does not belong on the ice, in the locker room, or anywhere."

Then, point by point, Remus demolished the false statements, explaining that diabetes is different from a sugar rush, and that with careful management, Lucía can not only play any sport she wants, but excel at it. He shared the tips from Jake and Luke about how to wrap Lucía's new continuous glucose monitor and pump so that they were protected without impeding movement or insulin flow. He talked about nutrition and managing diet in the sense of being aware of how your body was feeling, and learning when and what to eat ahead of expected activities, and how to recognise a low. He shared his stories of working with Kunin, and how the whole World Junior team kept jelly beans in their pockets and on the bench, just in case Kunin needed to quickly raise his blood sugar. He talked about how the discipline and awareness of how her body is feeling that Lucía will develop while managing her diabetes might help her with the work needed to become a professional athlete, if that is a goal she decides to pursue (although nothing can guarantee anyone will make it to a professional, - and doesn't Remus know all about that, he thinks silently to himself - but diabetes certainly shouldn't stop her).

An alarm started to ring from the desk, and noting that it was almost practice time, he gave Lucía a handful of the temporary tattoos Jake had courriered over to him, some a simple blue circle, others the circle with the words Insulin Dependent written underneath. Then he sent Lucía off to change into her gear, but asked Mr. Sanchez to stay behind for a second.

"What your doctor said to Lucía was incredibly inappropriate, damaging, and incorrect. Is there any chance you can switch doctors?"

"I have already started the process to transfer Lucía to a pediatrician who specialises in juvenile diabetes." "Good. If that doesn't work out, please reach out to us here, and we will try to share more resources and make some connections with organisations the Lions work with regularly. Also, if I may be so bold, please report that doctor to the state board and the US Department of Health and Human Services. I have to head to the ice, but, please, don't hesitate to reach out to me if you have any other questions or concerns about Lucía playing hockey. I can set up another meeting like this anytime this summer. Lucía is a gifted player and a great leader on the ice, hockey would be worse off without her playing."

#lumosinlove #sweater weather fanfic #hazelnoots #fic fest #fic-o-ween #gryffindorlions #remus lupin #diabetes

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plumsaffron · 2 months ago

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The ML Crossover Methfics seriously are a whole different breed of insanity. Lmfao gotta love that insult of yours.

For people who claim to be Marinette stans they sure wrote a tonne of nonsensical fics making her out to be an abuse victim. A “poor me” or “woe is me” story.

I don’t really like Lila but I honestly hate the ML salt community even more. Especially what happened to that poor Lila fan… I mean she’s just a fictional character, they didn’t have to be that explosive about her. Miracucunts really do ruin everything they touch… and unable to see themselves for what they’ve done on the online spaces. Absolutely disgusting that they’d hate on an emotionally abused victim using the excuse that he wasn’t physically abused and that he’s just a spoiled rich white boy.

Yea, the DP phandom is usually chill even after I stopped following their users and tags to this day. For a mediocre show, they surprisingly came out with a civilized community. Even with the Sam Manson critique to hatred, I don’t see these people harassing anyone who likes her. It’s the Stans that sometimes do it despite the evidence showing that Sam is better off with someone else similar to her. Even with several crossover fics, they’re still quite bearable and civilized. Because some people actually did their fucking research. Or even if they didn’t do much in-depth research, their “OOC” fics are sometimes more “in character” than the ML saltfics.

Though I totally understand why some people are anti-crossover fanfic thanks to the miracubitches and other fandom twats ruining things with extreme character hate and assassinations.

This is my assumption but I think the TVTropes staff and their fans are lowkey control freaks not just oversensitive idiots. Maybe that’s why my scathing review was a “little too cruel” for their liking on the rated E franchise. Maybe only long time active users on their side are allowed to edit and add content. Yet mature dark canon stuff is allowed to stay on their site while opposing actual harmless criticism, opinions and reviews are silenced. Or users being suspended… I clicked on anti TVTropes here and saw a decade old post saying that the site doesn’t allow people to have different opinions. And I thought to myself, “Damn, I shouldn’t have signed up back then, should’ve listened to other people’s experiences on that wasted potential site.”

AO3 is literally the few places where you can get away with a controversial but still harmless opinion in your profile and fic notes/summary. And the chances of being dogpiled are very low but never zero if your work is inspired by a “controversial” person who did say something many years ago and/or didn’t handle a touchy subject matter that well in their works. But now ppl are bringing it up even though that “controversial” person isn’t really bad just had different views back then due to their upbringing or smth. Or the fic just seen as very disturbing despite the warning labels.

heh heh thanks.

Yeah lotta Marinette Dupain Cheng stans making or drinking them fics are oxymorons.

I don’t mind you not liking Lila but yeah the Miraculous Ladysalt community is deplorable (and a better thing to hate), along with their death driving charade. Still, despite that demise of that fan of hers, it just wasn’t enough to make them rethink how far they've gone.

Plaguedom’s plaguing dementality flourishes and there’s pretty much nothing that can be done to stop it. So many unfortunately may blindy eat their tumors, while next to none are there to warn them to not consume the plaque.

Ah these miracushits don’t know that his life sucks. Heck even in Miraculous Rise Of The Sphinx game, Max Kante told him exactly how little time he has during the day commonly. These miraculous roaches love jigsawing what happens to fit things into their own unfittable puzzle they believe fits now. They don’t know that that’s Gabriel’s money? Any decision he makes is if his father allows it or if it follows his father’s interests. Otherwise it’s gonna be a no or his father will find a way to make Adrien feel bad about it. They don’t know that he determines and pretty much controls his future or fate (yeah yeah currently it’s Nathalie, his other fugly controller now, but whatever).

How do these fools jump into the conclusion of reducing him to he’s spoiled rich white boy? Perhaps I should say, why do they do this to him and why are they like this to Adrien? Dude ain’t even someone to be truly or really triggered upon. Adrien, despite his sucky, and still currently sucky life, he’s not spoiled. And even if he was spoiled, why is that treated as an awful thing? Heck I’m still pretty spoiled. Is this really the best they can come up with? This the best Miracucks can do to someone that’s pretty much good to others and not a problem causers or not a person seeking to be in a realm of ramifications of future conflicts? Like hello, he is made to do a lot of crap he doesn’t like, and to be next to flawless. He doesn’t like being trapped in the mansion, he likes hanging out with his friends. Sigh miracuscabs always gotta find a way to reduce and arrange anything for putdown purposes to leech over. Man… I just searched him earlier on here and one of the results on the feed was a salt prompt for Adrien blog. *Sighs*

MMM research, ML Salt fics usually never never never never never

Yep and Miracubitches and them other fandung beetles like ruination while also not just harboring legendary levels of character loathing and assassinating, these buttwipes mastered the art of sniping their own character without even knowing.

Yeah it’s possible and unfortunate of them TVTropes Staff Members and their purposeful pathetic pickiness. Sometimes searching "anti something," can show something unordinary or a different perspective compared to the masses (or casuals that might be lucky). Maybe showing that you aren’t completely alone with such experiences or feelings of stuff. You live and learn.

Well at least A03 is safe sort of for now. But that is disgusting when people use someone’s past takes and rally up some virus to attack one in the present because they can’t handle it or maybe the current time in society sees this thing in the past as unacceptable. Or they just want to. It’s just sigh. Finding worth to cause problems on what was never worth it to begin with because ignoring is inconceivable.

Like ugh… Imagine someone calls a person a scrub 5 years ago in a story or whatever. Then someone 5 years later took offense and felt personally attacked cause of that word cause they see it as an offense to their self or their gender or whatever group of collective gender or whatever. And so the triggered one condemns this person that said scrub from the past and ganders a cult of clowns using the past against the present. Context don’t matter, the triggered ones feel victimized while ironically going out their way to victimize the one of the present. All cause they were offended so badly over a minor inconvenience. Bonus, these scabies treat who they attack as if that was always who they are or were or will be.

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steviestits · 4 months ago

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I Move the Stars For No One - Part 1.2

Written for a prompt dmed to me, which can be read in its entirety on this fic’s masterpost.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: T (E for later chapters) Summary: After running away from home after an argument with his father, Steve storms off into the woods only to accidentally stumble into the unseelie king's lavish party. The king, Eddie as he likes to be called, is taken by Steve and dances through the night with him. Though Steve enjoys himself, he feels the need to return to the mortal realm, but soon learns that he can't as he has become property of the king after trespassing on a sacred fairy circle. Steve is forced to stay and begins to learn that all is not as it seems, especially in regards to his own past. (Labyrinth inspired story but they share zero plot points.) Trigger Warning: None for this chapter Eventual Trigger Warning: Feminization, Mating Rituals, Heats/Ruts but not the Omegaverse kind

(Link to previous part)

Startled at the sudden question, Steve looked down at his hand within Eddie’s then up at all the masked revelers around them. Though their faces were hidden, the sharp daggers of jealously still stabbed through the air, creating an atmosphere rife with contempt. Steve couldn’t stop himself from squirming a bit under the negative attention, before he carefully pulled his hand away, not wishing to draw anymore ire from the crowd.

“I’d love to, but I’m not dressed for it,” Steve said, motioning down at his plain clothes.

Eddie chuckled, “Is that all?” then snapped his fingers. A bright light surrounded Steve, engulfing him in an effulgent aura of magic, and silver sparks danced across his body, slowly transforming the clothes Steve wore into a flowing, white gown while silver-stringed ornaments wound through his hair while matching jewels appeared on his ears and neck. He also gained a pair of silver heels, though the height of the heels weren’t too high, so Steve found that he was able to keep his balance despite never wearing a pair before now.

“My dad would kill me if he saw me in this,” Steve muttered.

To which Eddie replied, “Is he here?”

“What?”

“Your dad, is here right now?”

Shaking his head, Steve said, “No, he’s not.”

“Then it should be fine. It feels right, doesn’t it? Like this is where you belong?”

Steve opened his mouth to refute Eddie’s statement but closed it when he realize that what the fae king said rung true. For the first time in a long time, Steve felt comfortable with himself. He didn’t feel like he was trying to fit into a mold of his father’s creation. The more Steve thought on it, the more natural it felt. Part of him worried that it was some kind of magic making him believe all this, but for some reason, the rest of him honestly didn’t think this was the case.

“I guess it does,” he admitted eventually.

“Then you have no other objections to sharing this dance with me?”

“But I don’t have a mask.”

“Stevie, your beauty is unparalleled. It would be a crime to hide it with a mask. I want to see it while I dance with you.”

Blush colored Steve’s cheeks, and he replied, “Then can I see your face, too?”

As a reply, Eddie reached up and took the wolf mask off his face, revealing dazzling features and a pair of dimples that made Steve’s heart flutter. He then took Steve’s hand, and despite the glares that were still aimed at him, Steve allowed Eddie to lead him out onto the dance floor as a new song started to be played by unseen musicians. The ball became lively again as the crowd swayed to the harmonious melody surrounding them. None of that mattered, however, as Steve was drawn into Eddie’s presence, unable to look away from the fae king.

Eddie began to lead Steve through the dance, never taking his gaze off Steve for a second. The outside world faded away until it was as if they were the only two in the ballroom, maybe even the whole universe. Steve didn’t care that he had to follow Eddie’s lead as they spun and twirled along the dance floor. He could hear his father’s voice chiding him, telling him that he was supposed to be the one leading the dance, not following like a girl. His father seemed so far away now, though, his words barely a buzz in Steve’s ear.

The song continued, enchanting Steve in the magic of the moment. He never wanted the dance to end, because he felt safe within Eddie’s arms. Steve had only just met the fae king, but he strangely felt as if he belonged here with him, and as long as the music played, Steve would continue to exist nowhere else except within Eddie’s company.

Unfortunately, the song did eventually come to an end, and when it did, Steve drew away from Eddie, even though their eyes remained locked. He’d never met anyone who commanded the room like Eddie did, not even Steve’s father could carry himself with so much confidence that everyone else in the room was forced to pay attention to the fae king. That’s why Steve was still shocked that the other had come up to him and chose to dance with him through most of the night, that he saw Steve as special enough to warrant his time.

Steve didn’t want leave, didn’t want to go back to where he was seen as a useless failure, back to where he wasn’t seen as beautiful by a handsome fae king, but he knew that he had to get back to his home. His dad would chew him out if he was late, which he’d been doing more since Steve turned eighteen. Sometimes, it felt as if all Steve had to do was breathe to set his dad off on him about how much of a screw-up Steve was and how he hadn’t lived up to their expectations at all. So, even though Steve wanted to stay with Eddie, he didn’t want to incur his dad’s wrath any more than he already had by merely existing.

It was then with a heavy heart that he broke eye contact with the fae king and took a step back. At least he tried to, but Eddie caught Steve by the wrist to hold him in place. The grip of the fae king was stronger than Steve expected, effectively preventing Steve from leaving as he wanted. Steve tried to struggle free, but he found he was unable to budge the hand even an inch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eddie asked domineeringly.

“I’m heading home,” Steve said, still struggling a bit in the tight grip. “I’m sure my parents are worried about me.”

The fae king snorted in amusement. “You are home. This is where the fae belong.”

“I didn’t mean to lead you on, but I’m not fae. I stumbled into a fairy circle on accident. I’m human. I’m from the human world.”

“Sweetheart, even if you were human, once someone enters the fae realm, they can’t leave. They become property of the fae king, which is me.”

“Eddie, it’s been fun, but I really do have to go. My dad will kill me if I don’t get home in time.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, because as I said, you’re my property. He can’t touch my property, which you are.”

Then with a wave of Eddie’s hand, a silver collar with a thin chain that matched the baubles that adorned his hair. Steve tugged at the collar, but it wouldn’t budge, and when he traced his fingers along the rim, he couldn’t find a clasp. It was as if the collar had been welded together, trapping Steve in it permanently. The chain then lengthened and wrapped around Eddie’s hand, clearly denoting his ownership.

“Until you learn,” Eddie said while giving the chain a tug, drawing Steve closer. “Because you’re mine, and no one else can have you.”

Part 1.1 ~ Masterpost ~ Part 1.3

#show: stranger things #steddie #my fics #starsfornoone #dm prompt

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wordsandrobots · 6 months ago

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Me: hey, how about we pick one idea into which to sink this unfocused need to write something new now Wishing on Space Hardware is completed.

My brain: Have you considered randomly fixating on Iron-Blooded Orphans' director referred to Agnika Kaieru as being 'like a shonen protagonist' and revisiting the concept for a gathering of the original Seven Stars, the one you dismissed because it would be just blatantly making stuff up about why Gjallarhorn turned out the way it did.

My brain: Also here's some random extra smut featuring Shino, Yamagi and Eugene.

Me: . . . you cannot behave for even five seconds, can you?

My brain: 8)

The smut has been added into the pile. I have now completed two E-rated fics, which I may post when I'm done with WoSH.

Beyond that, I am temporarily exorcising the Seven Stars fic idea as the following script in which I try to work out voices for each of them. I will not be working on this any further until after the Urdr Hunt animated feature comes out, because hopefully that will include details about the first Baklazan and I can de-assign him, her or them from Antarctica.

The Death of Agnika Kaieru

INT: Library inside Agnika Kaieru's mansion

Gargin Bauduin (who has an eyepatch): “Hello Kalf.”

Kalf Falk (who walks using cybernetic leg braces): “Oh. It's you two. Sorry. I didn't –”

Gargin: “Quite all right. We understand completely, don't we Angelica?”

Angelica Elion (who is in a wheelchair): “It's natural to be upset after seeing him like that.”

Kalf: “He's just… he was always so… vital. Now he's just lying there and… I keep wondering how that could have happened.”

Gargin: “Age, usually. That'd be the normal cause. Trust Agnika to get the same result three times fast.”

Angelica: “It's good to see you. We weren't sure you would make it, given how busy you've been.”

Kalf: “Yes, well. Someone has to care about the things none of the rest of you can be bothered with.”

Gargin: “Come on, don't be like that. We rely on your work getting the Ariadne back into shape. Don't know what we'd have done without you.”

Kalf: “I suppose you could've always thrown some of your pet cult at the problem.”

Angelica: “The Seven Star Corps is the reason we've been able to make any progress with the rebuilding. Whatever you think of it as a concept, it has been both necessary and successful.”

Gargin: “Not to mention the sacrifice its members have made. I would have thought you'd be the last person to sneer at those who've lost everything and yet still find it in themselves to work for the good of the future.”

Kalf: “I – yes. You're right. I apologise. That was… I'm just…”

Angelica: “Believe me, we all are. We understand.”

Kalf: “So, um, how's Deborah?”

Gargin: “Big as a house and cursing me daily for having the gall to conceive a child with her. Any protest I make over how I couldn't possibly have predicted triplets is being treated as an act of war. How's Marco?”

Kalf: “Fine. Or, well, he was last I had the chance to speak to him. And believe me, I see the irony of a communications expert not finding time to talk to his boyfriend.”

Angelica: “Perhaps once we're done here, you'll be able to go visit him.”

Kalf: “Perhaps.”

There follows a scene in which Arzona Issue arrives and gets into a heated argument with Kalf over Gjallarhorn's future, which leads to Kalf storming out.

Gargin: “That could have gone better.”

Arzona Issue, dropping into an armchair: “He's never forgiven me for what happened in Paris.”

Gargin: “Massacres do tend to cast shadows over a friendship, yes.”

Arzona: “I didn't want things to go that way. I tried to stop it! But in the end –”

Gargin: “I know, Arzona, old man. I know. Deep down, so does Kalf. He's a surly little brat at times but he's stuck with us this far.”

Arzona: “I'm just trying to be logical. Agnika held everything together by force of will. Without him…”

Angelica: Starting a family isn't something people generally do out of logic. Or at least, not out of spoken logic. Not all of us were born with the expectation that we existed to advance our parents' name, you know.”

Arzona: “I am aware, thank you. I… I shouldn't have brought it up. We can't discuss it properly yet anyway. But with so much to do… Agnika's not even left a will, can you believe that? The single most important man on the planet and he's going to die without his affairs in order.”

Gargin: “That seems somewhat out of character.”

Arzona: “I asked him about it once. Early on, when we were pulling all remaining military assets under our command. He'd defined the chain of command down to each individual soldier but as for his personal life – he told me he'd worry about it when the mission was complete.”

Angelica: “Now that's like him.”

Arzona: “He was asking for Valerie earlier. Came round for a while and then … Valerie, Alvin, even Petr. His old friends. I didn't know what to tell him. If he'd forgotten…”

Gargin: “Ah, come now, don't tear yourself up. This is one area where you're allowed not to be perfect, believe me.”

Arzona: “I wonder if it's going to be our fate too, eventually. Fading by degrees and then – oh. F-forgive me, Angelica. That probably sounded…”

Angelica: “It's an extremely sensible concern. None of us understand the long-term effects of the augmentation procedures, much less the toll the War took. I sometimes suspect it's easier for those of us who already lost the use of a limb or two. Saves waiting for the unexpected.”

Gargin: “Besides, Agnika always pushed himself more than the rest of us. My eye, Kalf and Angelica's legs, those were our extremes. Agnika's lay far beyond us.

Arzona: “Perhaps. I still can't shake the idea time is set against our efforts.”

Angelica: “That will always be true.”

------------------------

EXT: Garden

Maki Fareed (wine-glass in hand): “Dear me, dear me. Here's a man reeling from a regrettable encounter with our illustrious leader. Come sit with us, my child, and have a good long scream into the koi pond. It'll make you feel better.”

Kalf Falk: “Uh… sure. Fine. Yes. Arzona is being…”

Maki: “Arzona is being Arzona, as per usual. Did he give you the pitch for building a dynasty, too?”

Kalf: “Does he really expect us to become, what? A new hereditary elite? Did he forget how the War started?”

Maki: “What goes on inside his head is something I have long since ceased trying to fathom. All I know is, I became a pilot precisely to avoid being reduced to a brood mare and the irony tastes bitter. God, I envy Baklazan. Imagine being stuck a million miles from this dreary excuse for the wake. Lucky bastard.”

Embrilla Kujan: “Agnika isn't dead yet.”

Maki: “Neither is a vegetable before it's picked. I fail to see what is gained by splitting hairs.”

Embrilla: “Tactful as ever…”

Maki: “Do shut up, you dreadful old stick-in-the-mud. If Arzona's already planning the funeral and the next five hundred years, I don't see why I need to guard my tongue.”

Kalf: “Him and his damn plans – and of course Gargin and Angelica are going along with it.”

Maki: “But of course. The Greater-Good Gang sticks together.”

Embrilla: “I wonder what Agnika would have thought.”

Maki: “Not to speak ill of the soon to depart but I believe we all know this is coming out of Agnika leaving too much room for Arzona to do the thinking in certain matters. Oh, don't look at me like that. He was an inspiration, obviously, but he did have a regrettable tendency to make everything about himself. It's not sustainable.”

Kalf: “I always thought he had a good grasp on the long-term. Everything he said was always about what we owed humanity's future.”

Embrilla: “Maybe he assumed gathering together people who cared about it the way he did would be enough.”

Maki: “As I said. Now here we are. Speaking of which, who else are we expecting to come pay their respects? Nadira, I assume, and where he goes, Jizin will no doubt follow. Tasmoore?”

Kalf: “Yes, I saw him arriving when I was up at the house.”

Embrilla: “Medoz was on the mission with Baklazan, so she's out.”

Maki: “Pity. She'd liven things up no end. I suppose I'll just have to chip away at Agnika's remarkably well-stocked cellar until my mood has been sufficiently detached from the circumstances. Who did this place belong to before it became a convalescent home, anyway? I cannot believe these vintages were collected by someone even you two could drink under the table.”

Embrilla: “Have you ever tried taking anything seriously, Maki? You might enjoy the novelty.”

Maki: “Oh, I absolutely have. But you'll notice there are no mobile armours left to kill, my dismal darling, and past them, I have found very little to be worth the effort.”

Kalf: “It belonged to some kind of regional governor. They donated it to Agnika in honour of everything he'd done, when the War was finally declared over. I don't think he ever used it before.”

Embrilla: “That tracks.”

Maki: “Doesn't it just? Well, bottoms-up, dear-hearts. Here's to the man who saved the world.”

--------------

For the sake of clarity, I seem to be leaning towards treating Maki and Embrilla as inseparable friends whose love-language is hurling insults at one another. Maki, Arzona and Gargin are hold-outs from whatever aristocratic organisations existed pre-War to lead to the whole 'honour duel' thing. Kalf and Angelica are somewhat younger and somewhat lower class. My thoughts on Agnika place him as growing up more in a academic/scientific environment, which is why he's friends with a bunch of engineers and mathematicians pre-War (this is expanding from stuff I sketched in Eugene Sevenstark and the Hesperus Treasure).

The Seven Star Corps is a concept I came up with to explain where the surname 'Sevenstark' comes from, because it clearly requires some sort of history.

I'm not sure where this piece would be going if I wrote it in full, which is why I haven't written it already. However, I may be able to use it as set-up for the sequel-sequel fics that I have alluded to previously, for reasons I won't get into yet.

#gundam ibo #gundam iron blooded orphans #g tekketsu #tekketsu no orphans #fanfic #my fic #agnika kaieru #calamity war #gjallarhorn

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oneofthosebells · 6 months ago

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you @malinthebodyguard for tagging me! 💜💜 I'm not really on tumblr much at the moment for various reasons, but I can never resist a quiz.

(It's not a secret that oneofthosebells is a burner pseud I created just to write YR fic for Reasons I won't bore you with here, so the below is combined across pseuds.)

How many works do you have on Ao3?

67 (25 fics, 41 vids, 1 podfic)

What's your total Ao3 word count?

Just over 430,000

What fandoms do you write for?

I tend to be monofannish, so only Young Royals right now! My main fandom for a few years before that was Ballum (an EastEnders pairing), and I've written for various other sources over the last 20 years including several one-off fics in tiny fandoms for Yuletide.

Top five fics by kudos:

Incognito Mode - Young Royals

Salt and Vinegar - Ballum

Easy to Love - Ballum

The Picture Thou Hast Made - Ballum

Breaking News, Breaking Free - Young Royals

(Taking the executive decision to exclude my 20-year-old Harry Potter fics from the list above because...well. You know. I won't delete them from the internet because I don't believe in doing that, but honestly, if anyone's still reading them in 2024, ngl, kind of judging you. There are SO MANY fics out there not based on books written by massive transphobes, go read those.)

Do you respond to comments?

Usually! I tend to be all or nothing - I try to reply to every comment, but if I'm struggling to keep up, I sometimes end up not replying to any at all for a few weeks and then it feels daft to reply after that long.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

None! I don't like angsty endings, happy endings all the way round here. Probably the only one that even vaguely counts is Say a Little Prayer, which is a missing moment from canon from a very angsty episode - but even though it ends on a sad note, if you know the show you know they get married a few days later so it's still not that angsty.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hoping that if I can get my writing brain into gear I will soon be able to give several YR fic answers to this question...!

From my non-YR fics...almost all of them? But let's say Beginner's Luck because of the light-hearted romcom vibes throughout. (Or maybe My Heart Won't Let My Feet Do Things They Should Do, because it's not just happy from a ship pov, but also has a character coming to terms with his hearing loss, taking up dance again for the first time since he was 12 AND standing up to his homophobic, ableist dad.)

Do you get hate on fics?

Not recently, doesn't seem to be much of a thing in YR fandom thank goodness! In the past...yeah. (Soap opera fandom is toxic af.)

Do you write smut?

Yep. Not very well. 😂 I put it in stories that seem to need it, but mostly I tend to go for a M rating rather than E because it's really not in my comfort zone to write the explicit stuff. Never written PWP. (I tried to, once, but it ended up full of feelings and a bit of plot anyway!)

Craziest crossover:

Never written a crossover, never really wanted to. I keep my fandoms separate lol.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Hope not! Not aware of it if so.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I'd love to. Me and a friend kicked around an idea a few times, but never came to anything.

All time favourite ship?

Eep. Please don't hate me if I don't say Wilmon! I love them to pieces, I really do, but honestly I hyperfixated on their story and the show as a whole rather than them as a couple if that makes sense (which is probably why I don't really read/write non-royal AUs).

Gun to my head, all time favourite ship: Christian/Syed from EastEnders.

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

There are many YR WIPs on my hard drive, but honestly I'm still hoping to finish all of them one day! So I'll say Not Giving In, which I do really want to finish but alas canon kind of killed my love for the characters (especially Jay who plays a big part in the last few chapters), so chances are high I never will. Will be the first and probably only fic I'll ever properly abandon, which I feel gutted about. Blegh.

What are your writing strengths?

Oh god, what a horrible question. 💀 Probably dialogue? Keeping a plot moving along? And people usually seem to like my characterisation, I've had comments in previous fandoms along the lines of 'could be an actual episode of the show' (which I'm taking as a compliment rather than a dig at my unoriginality lol).

What are your writing weaknesses?

Beautiful prose. Metaphor, simile, imagery, description, all of that. None of that's in my wheelhouse at all. If I could get away with writing fics that were 95% dialogue and 5% 'shrugs, nods, stands up, sits down' stage directions I absolutely would.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Eh, I'm not a big fan. With YR fics, I kind of take the view that if you're writing in English, you're essentially translating the entire fic from Swedish into English anyway - so why leave the odd phrase untranslated? It's distracting more than anything else. But it's not a red line or anything, I don't mind it too much in other people's fics.

First fandom you wrote in?

I won't lie: alas, Harry Potter. See above for my feelings on that now.

Favourite fic you've written?

No false modesty here, it's this one: The Picture Thou Hast Made. I wish I'd given it a better title lol as it might have got more attention, but super proud of this fic, probably my best ever attempt at balancing humour, fluff and angst. (Cough, it's an AU that's probably still enjoyable without any canon knowledge, just saying.)

Mind you, one of the YR WIPs currently lurking in my hard drive might just push it into second place... 👀

No pressure tags:

Hmm, lots of people seem to have already done this one! How about @piebingo and @peakotp (no pressure at all) or anyone else who'd like to and hasn't been tagged yet.

#fanfic writer ask game #my writing

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