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tildeathiwillwrite · 29 days ago

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Whumpuary Day 13

Whumpuary Masterpost

Prompts List

Prompts: close call | sleep | choking

Fandom: Original Work

Words: 1300

Tag List: (message me to be added or removed) @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion @scaewolf

@the-ellia-west

CW: referenced injury, hiding referenced capture, swearing, referenced minor whump, general mayhem

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The dream was a strange place.

Of all the planets Jas had visited, Somnia had the thinnest divide and therefore the easiest access and communication between the two realms. But as far as she could tell, the dream existed across all planets, with varying degrees of closeness. The larger the metaphorical divide between the physical planet and the mental dream, the more difficult it was to cross over, and the more concentration it took to affect things on the physical world.

She had no clue how the divide was established, if it changed over time or not. If the dream had originated with Somnia and spread out over the greater universe. If the dream existed back home.

What she did know was that on this planet, the dream was… different. Not tainted, like Trissia had been, but certainly not Somnia. And it had taken her far more effort to enter than usual. However, that might have been due to her injured shoulder when she first entered the citadel, and then the lacerations and other injuries inflicted a few hours later.

But passing out provided an opportunity to slip into the dream, so she did, grateful that the pain became distant. Not gone, she still retained that same awareness of her physical body, but bearable.

That was roughly sixteen hours ago. Jas had been wandering the citadel ever since, trying to place the strangeness of this planet’s dream. And it led her to the Sentinel. She reached him right before Killian and his captor were brought in, so she got to watch the whole thing.

At first, Jas genuinely thought he’d gotten himself captured. Not the first time that’s happened. But when his supposed captor was revealed to be a deserter, well, that was good news. Killian always did have a knack for finding the right people for help.

She needed to talk to him. Not through taps and codes, but one-on-one, comparing notes. But now wasn’t the time for that, even if right now Killian and his new friend were out of sight.

“Jas, this is Marcus,” Killian introduced while the older man composed himself. “He’s a detective, and he saved me from getting caught. Our original plan was to attempt a fake capture so I could reach you without putting the whole place on high alert, but that’s gone down the drain.”

She squeezed his hand in acknowledgment.

“So you two can astral project?” Marcus asked, taking a deep breath. “Is that what’s happening?”

“We call it dreamshaping, but yes, it is similar.”

“I see…” Marcus mused, drumming his fingers on his thigh. “I remember hearing rumors that the First Flame has an astral projector in their ranks, but I haven’t found any evidence. The Sentinel must be looking for more.”

Jas tapped Killian’s shoulder rapidly to get his attention. He jumped and looked in her general direction.

“Yes,” she tapped rapidly. “Find 1.”

“She… she says she found one,” Killian relayed hesitantly. “We use a tapping code to communicate.”

Jas pursed her lips, trying to find the shortest word to convey her next sentence. “Get,” she finally said, “Soon.”

“Jas….”

“Stuck. Forced. 8.”

Killian flinched, his eyes widening. “Years?”

“Yes.”

He exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She says they’re trapped here, being forced to do… something. She didn’t specify. They’re also… they’re fucking eight years old.”

Marcus hissed through his teeth. “Lord have mercy.”

Killian closed his eyes, jaw clenched. Planning face. Jas stepped back, still holding his hand, and stuck her head through the door. The hallway was still empty, but it wouldn’t be much longer before the soldiers began searching here next.

“Marcus,” Killian asked, “how far from here is our way out?”

“We’re in the central building, about as far from the walls as we can get. And they’ll be watching the exits and combing the streets.”

“How far?”

“About a half mile once we leave the building. Due north. But we shouldn’t go straight there, they could—”

“Cut us off, I know. Three-quarters of a mile for an erratic route, then.” He fell silent again for another few seconds before tugging on Jas’s hand, pulling her back into the storage closet. “Does the kid have a physical body?”

She squeezed his hand and tapped the affirmative.

“Do you know where it is?”

Another affirmative.

“Can we get to it quickly?”

She hesitated. She’d found the kid in a small building close to the central building. Her body was kept in a hospital bed in the same building, alive through IV and feeding tubes. And she wasn’t alone. The older boy, who was in the physical world, immediately noticed her presence and demanded to know who she was.

"My name is Jas," she had told them. "I'm like you."

He had hesitated, glancing at the younger girl. She shook her head. "She is not First Flame. She is a prisoner. But...."

"She is different."

"She can help."

The boy turned to Jas. "My name is Connor. This is Tessa. We are trapped here. She has to monitor this citadel, she knows everyone who comes in and out. I am how the Sentinel communicates with her. Neither of us want this. Can you help us?"

What choice did she have?

Jas tapped the affirmative on Killian's hand. “North too. Blue door.”

Killian nodded. “First we need your body. That’s what we came here for, and you can stay in the dream while I carry you.”

Jas hissed through her teeth, though he couldn’t hear her. She expected this, didn’t expect anything less, really. Getting them there was going to be annoying, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. She signaled the affirmative, then gave him the name of the cell block.

Killian repeated it to Marcus, who thought for a moment before nodding. “I know how to get there. But… the guards?”

“Jas’ll lure them away.”

“...all right, then. Let’s—”

Footsteps echoed in the hallway, cutting him off mid-sentence. Killian cursed under his breath and backed away from the door, grabbing a broom and holding it up defensively. Marcus eased himself away from the shelf and raised both hands. Jas dashed through the door and glanced both ways. The sound came from her left, so she ran the opposite direction.

Even after months spent in the dream, running without losing stamina was still incredibly strange.

She glanced over her shoulder as she reached the door at the end of this hallway, where it intersected with another, identical to the first. Pushing open the door revealed it to lead to a dark room. Not ideal, but better than nothing.

Within moments, the source of the footsteps appeared around the corner at the far side of the hallway. Jas smirked, grabbed the door handle, and slammed it shut. The sound echoed off the stone walls.

“Over there!” One of the guards shouted, and the group of five ran right past the storage closet. They didn’t even check if the door was unlocked, they just kicked it open and burst inside, weapons raised. Two of them held flames hovering above their hands, and the rest had guns, though one of them had a knife strapped to his side.

Jas snatched it from its sheath as he passed her, and the moment all five were inside, she slammed the door shut.

The door locked from the outside. Convenient.

Jas didn’t wait for the guards to realize they were locked in. She returned to the storage closet and rapped on the door, signaling the all-clear.

Killian slowly opened the door, flinching when he saw the floating knife. “Ah. Thank you,” he said when she held it out to him.

“We need to move,” Marcus said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “That was a close call. Thank you for… whatever it is you did.”

Jas grinned and punched his shoulder in response before taking off running again, this time passing straight through the opposite wall, taking the direct route back to her body. This was going to be fun.

4 notes · View notes

actress4him · 2 years ago

Note

>_>

<_<

~Psst~

Gimme 'Gilded Cage' for the bthb

For 'anyone' *wink wink*

This totally isn't someone you know o.o

*gasp*

Who could this be from?? And how did they possibly know that the very day this ask was sent, I was talking with Izzy about wanting to write something for the new AU using this prompt??

You must be psychic, Anon.

Introducing the new (well, not SO new at this point, but new to Tumblr!) Brumaria universe, The Royal AU. This piece is pre-Bruno, however, and hopefully sets up Kamaria's side of the story well enough that it doesn't require extra explanation. If not, feel free to ask questions, I love to ramble about ocs (especially Brumaria!) and aus.

Also this got, uh...really long, so, yeah.

Taglist: @painful-pooch (who obviously had NOTHING whatsoever to do with this ask), @badthingshappenbingo

Shadow of Death Masterlist

Fandom: Original Work

Prompt: Gilded Cage

Contains: fairly mild whump of a minor (14yo), lady whump, referenced parental death, referenced war, referenced fire, manhandling, non-graphic stabbing (not of the minor), hitting, prejudice, hunger, corporal punishment

Kamaria slips in and out of the throng of people like a shadow, unnoticed by most. It’s market day - the perfect opportunity for making a living. While the people of Ethorcon shout and haggle and admire stalls full of goods, she eyes their wrists and belts.

There’s a lady who doesn’t belong in this part of town, some noblewoman entertaining herself by watching how the simple folk live. It’s fairly common. Kamaria follows closely behind her and the girl who’s probably her maid, reaching easily between them to release the clasp of her golden bracelet and let it slide silently into her palm. She disappears immediately into the crowd again, waiting until she’s out of their sight before opening her fist and transferring the trinket to the hidden pocket she created for herself in the folds of her tattered skirt.

Brushing by a busy stall of dried meats, she tips a piece off the edge and into her other hand. It goes into her pocket, too. There’s already a pouch of roasted nuts nestled inside. She’ll eat one herself, and save the other for Aisling. The orphanage workers do what they can to feed them, but it’s never enough - which is why Kamaria takes to the streets as often as she can.

She won’t be able to stay for much longer, though. Too much time in one location is just asking to be caught, so she needs to make her last finds good ones.

There are actually a few brave Navarians out today, risking the scorn of all the true Ethorconites and the prices that the merchants raise as soon as they see them. She skirts around the small group, letting her eyes linger for just a moment on the rich earth tones of their clothing. She misses when everyone around her was dressed like them.

Once she’s put some distance between herself and the other Navarians, not wanting to risk any possibility of them being accused of anything, she spots her next target - a man with a large shoulder bag. There’s not as much of a guarantee that she’ll snag something of great value, but she can’t help the curiosity that pulls her toward it. She sidles up nearly beside the man, waiting until his head is turned the other direction before she sticks her hand inside, fingers closing around the first item of substance she feels and smoothly sliding it back out.

She doesn’t look at her new treasure until she’s in a nearby alley. It’s…a knife. Small enough that the tarnished brass hilt fits in her not yet full grown hand. Carefully, she removes it from its sheath. The piece may be old, but the blade seems to be in good condition, and she can tell just by looking at it that it’s sharp.

Thoughtfully, she tucks it into her pocket alongside the other items. This one she won’t sell, maybe. She likes the weight of it in her hands, the feeling of safety it brings.

She takes her usual route back to the orphanage, crisscrossing through alleys and abandoned back streets. No one looks up when she walks inside. For the most part, the workers allow the children to come and go as they please. It’s up to them to arrive on time for meals if they want to be fed, and to come in before the doors are locked for the night if they want a bed. At first she thought she would hate it here, and she does hate that she’s stuck in the capital city of Ethorcon, no longer within the borders of what used to be Navar. But she can’t pass up the food and shelter the orphanage provides, and at least they don’t try to control her.

She hasn’t thought of leaving, anyway. Not while Aisling needs her.

The small girl’s brown eyes light up when Kamaria enters the bedroom they share with four other Navarians, the room next door reserved for several Ethorconite children. “Did you bring anything interesting this time?” she whispers in the language the two share.

The room is currently empty, so Kamaria sits down on the floor mat with her and begins to empty her pocket. She holds out the two food options first. “Which do you want?”

Aisling hums, considering, then taps her finger on the pouch of roasted nuts. Passing it over, Kamaria takes a bite of the dried meat before reaching into her pocket again. “I haven’t checked to see what’s inside yet,” she explains as she drops a small purse into her lap, tugging it open. The two girls eagerly count out the coins inside, then hurriedly put them back, Kamaria running to hide it beneath the broken floorboard before returning to the bed.

“Look at this.” She displays the bracelet, and Aisling gasps in delight.

“So pretty! Can I try it on?” Giggling, she holds out her hand.

Kamaria smiles a little and acquiesces, slipping the dainty, expensive piece around her frail wrist.

The girl laughs again, twisting her hand so that the gold catches the light. “Someday, I’m going to be a rich lady and own hundreds of jewels.”

Snorting, Kamaria takes the bracelet back. “Being rich isn’t anything to strive for. The rich think they’re better than everyone, but their lives mean nothing. Strive for…independence, instead. And a position where you can help those who can’t help themselves.”

She turns her back to place the bracelet inside the hiding spot with the purse, trying not to think too hard about Aisling’s future. The way things are now…she may not live to be Kamaria’s age, much less to achieve riches or power.

“Tomorrow I’ll take a bit of the money and buy us some more food.” She returns to the bed, settling down next to Aisling and leaning her back against the wall. She can still feel the weight of the knife in her pocket. “Is there anything you’d like me to look for?”

Popping one of the roasted nuts into her mouth, Aisling chews thoughtfully. “Apples,” she declares finally. “And chocolate!”

Kamaria elbows her in the ribs, not too hard. “I stole the chocolate, you goose. We can’t afford luxuries like that.”

Aisling pouts, but it’s obviously playful. “Well then, can you steal some more chocolate next time you go out?”

Huffing a bit of a laugh through her nose, Kamaria shakes her head. “I’ll do my best.”

They sit in contented silence, munching their food, until a loud knock sounds on the front door of the house. Kamaria tenses, sitting up straight.

Aisling grabs onto her arm. “What is it?”

“I don’t know.” She tries to keep her voice calm, despite her body language. “Someone’s here. But no one ever visits.”

There’s a murmur of one of the workers answering the door, and a louder man’s voice responds. “We are here on behalf of His Majesty King Alaric, ruler of Ethorcon.”

Aisling’s grip on her arm grows tighter, whether in fear, shock, or excitement, she doesn’t know. Kamaria personally feels anger start to bubble in her chest at the mention of the man’s name. He’s the reason all of their parents are dead. He’s the reason that her home is a pile of ash, that she’s had to steal and beg and dig through rubbish for the past two years in order to survive. He’s the reason that they each take turns waking up during the night, gasping for breath with tears pouring down their cheeks.

“His Majesty requires a child. A Navarian child, to be exact.”

Another voice, slightly deeper. “King Alaric wishes to show his goodwill toward the former people of Navar by taking in one of their orphans as his own. They will be raised in the castle as royalty and afforded every advantage.”

“What a marvelous opportunity for one of our poor young ones!” That’s one of the workers. She sounds blown away. “They’ve all been through so much. Well, I can take you to see our boys over here, there are four of them -”

“Not a boy,” the first man interrupts. “We’re not looking for an heir to the throne. A girl will be more…suitable for him to bestow his goodwill upon.”

“Of course. We only have two Navarian girls, I believe they’re in their room.”

Kamaria jumps up off the mat and places herself in between Aisling and the door, allowing them to still see her but not come near. Her mind is racing with the conversation she’s just overheard. The king wants to adopt one of them. To turn them into a…a princess. It sounds too far-fetched to be true. All the Navarians know that he hates them. He invaded their kingdom solely to conquer it and extend his power, slaughtered them by the thousands, and now claims that they are citizens of Ethorcon but sits idly by while the real Ethorconites treat them like the dirt under their feet. And now he wants one as his daughter?

The door opens, and her hands clench into fists. The worker enters first, beaming. “Ah yes, here they are.”

Two men in rich attire enter, glancing back and forth between the two of them. The bald one looks her over closely, from her frizzy brown braid and dirt-streaked skin to her patched clothing and bare feet. “How old are you?” he demands.

She considers not answering, but doesn’t see the point in the end. “Fourteen.”

He sighs heavily. “That’s older than I was hoping for. Harder to train.”

The other man, the one with the deeper voice, nods toward Aisling. “The little one looks to be around the right age.”

The bald man doesn’t even glance her way. “She’s sickly, can’t you tell it just from the look of her?” He turns toward the worker, clearly exasperated. “You said these are the only two Navarian girls you have?”

“She wouldn’t be if you took her.” The words are out Kamaria’s mouth before she can fully decide whether she should say them. “She’s frail now, yes, but with proper food and access to a physician she’d flourish, I’m certain of it.” And she’d be able to be a rich lady with hundreds of jewels, like she wants.

She doesn’t want to be separated from Aisling, she’s become like a little sister to her. She isn’t sure, either, that the castle is the best, most loving place for her. But if it means guaranteeing her survival…

Besides, she has no intention of going with these men herself, and if she’s taken then there will be no one to look after Aisling, to bring her extra food. This is how it needs to be.

“I’m not taking that risk,” the bald man grunts. “The older will have to do. Come.”

He nods his head toward the door before turning to walk out, as if he expects her to follow him just like that. Kamaria stands rooted to the floor, heart pounding and thoughts swirling.

“Come,” the other man repeats, holding out a hand to her. “You’ve been chosen. This is a great honor for you.”

“No.”

The bald man turns, and they both stare at her. “No?”

She lifts her chin, gathering her courage. “No, I won’t go with you. I don’t want to go, you’ll have to take her, instead.” She looks briefly back over her shoulder at Aisling, who’s watching everything silently with wide, fearful eyes.

Taking two slow steps toward her, the bald man huffs. “You behave as if you have any say in this matter, girl. We are acting on behalf of His Majesty, and you will do as we command.”

Kamaria’s anger flares. “His Majesty has never cared anything about my existence before, and he can live without it now. I want nothing to do with him. If he wanted to extend his goodwill, then he should have refrained from murdering my family and my people.”

The fury in her heart is reflected back at her in the man’s expression. As the other man mutters something like, “Are you sure that you want this one?”, he stalks toward her. She takes a few quick steps backwards away from him.

“I haven’t the time for this.” Lunging forward, he grabs her by her waist and yanks her into him, wrapping one arm around her and beginning to drag her toward the door.

Kamaria forgets how to breathe. For a moment, she’s one of the women that she sees in her nightmares, being carried off by laughing soldiers while the town burns around them.

She’s brought back to the present by Aisling’s screech. “Kamaria!”

“No! Let go of me!” She fights, digging her heels into the floor as best she can, hitting and scratching his arm and anything else she can reach. “I’m not going anywhere! Let me go, I will not be your stupid princess!”

The knife in her pocket knocks into her leg as if politely reminding her of its existence. She clamors for it wildly, somehow managing to get it out and fling the sheath to the ground.

“I said let me go!” She has no idea how to properly use a knife, but she has plenty of access to drive the point of it into his arm near the elbow.

He curses loudly and she’s suddenly free. Knife still in hand, she runs back toward Aisling, who’s sobbing uncontrollably, only to be tackled to the floor by the second man. He pins her there, and she screams, memories from the night of the fire washing over her again.

“The little minx stabbed me!” the bald man roars. “Get that knife away from her! You let these children have weapons?”

She can’t see anything but the wooden floor, but she tries to stretch out her arm so that the knife is out of reach. It doesn’t matter, though. The man on top of her holds down her arm and wrestles the knife out of her grip, handing it off to someone else.

She should have just left it for Aisling. Now it’s gone to waste, like the bracelet and coins hidden underneath the floorboard that the little girl won’t be able to sell.

“Get her out of here!” the bald man growls. “I clearly have my work cut out for me, teaching this one even basic manners.”

She’s flipped over onto her back, large hands holding her wrists tightly, then yanked up off the floor and thrown over the man’s shoulder. Beating and scratching on his back and kicking her legs doesn’t seem to faze him at all. Aisling screams her name again, and she cranes her head up to find her tear-streaked face.

“Ai-Aisling…stay strong for me, okay? Stay…stay strong.”

The younger girl sobs again. “Please don’t leave me!”

She’s carried out the door and around the corner before she can respond.

The carriage ride through town is tense. Kamaria is too angry and afraid to enjoy the novelty of it, crushed in between the two men on the bench seat. She tries to fling herself out the door at one point, and gets backhanded across the face so hard that she falls into the opposite wall.

It’s the first time anyone has ever hit her. With all of the violence she’s seen in her life, it shouldn’t feel as sickening as it does.

She spends the rest of the ride in her seat, staring at a spot straight ahead of her with her mind racing with thoughts of what’s ahead.

The second man walks her into the castle with a firm grip on her arm that she wants to shake off but tries her best to ignore. It’s obvious she’s not getting away from them anytime soon. She’s never been anywhere close to a castle before, much less inside of one, and despite her determination to hate every inch of it she can’t help but gape. Every surface seems to shine. The floor is cold beneath her feet, and when she looks down she can nearly see her reflection in it. Above her, the ceiling stretches almost as high as the sky itself, and staircases with polished railings wind up toward long balconies.

“This way.” Her arm is jerked, and the bald man leads them through a door and into a series of hallways and stairs that seem to never end. Kamaria tries to memorize the route, in case she gets the chance to escape.

At last they go through another intricately carved door, into a room that looks to be a bedroom but is so huge it could fit an entire house inside. There’s a bed against one wall, with a blue canopy over it and heavy curtains at each post. Pillows are piled on top of the covers. In the corner sits a dainty table with two matching chairs, and on another wall a sofa with even more pillows. Opposite the bed, nearly the entire wall is taken up by glass doors leading out onto a balcony.

“These will be your chambers,” the man holding her arm announces. He glances over at her dumbfounded expression. “See, this arrangement isn’t all that bad, is it?”

She quickly reins in her shock, throwing a glare back at him. “I don’t want any of this. Not when it comes from him.”

The bald man whirls around and slaps her cheek, not nearly as hard as the first hit but enough to turn her face to the side. “We’ll start your first lesson now. You will refer to His Majesty with respect and honor at all times. Understood?”

She clenches her jaw and stares him down, refusing to respond.

Taking a step forward, he grasps her chin hard between his fingers, tilting her head back to stare down into her face. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” she spits. She understands. That doesn’t mean she’ll do it.

A quiet knock sounds on the open door behind her, and the bald man looks up and releases her chin. “Come in, let’s hurry this along.”

Several women appear, most wearing matching plain dresses. Kamaria watches them warily.

“Lord Roderick,” the one who doesn’t match the others begins, addressing the bald man. “This is she?”

“Yes. Get started right away, there’s no time to waste. You -” he turns his attention to the others, whom she guesses are maids -“go draw a bath. She’s absolutely filthy, and this hair is a disaster.”

She wants to snap something back about how he’d be the same way if he was forced to live on the streets and actually had hair, but decides to keep her mouth shut this time. It would likely only get her slapped again, unless he wouldn’t do it with the maids around.

A few of the maids curtsy and disappear through a door on the other side of the room. The woman who spoke approaches her, and the man finally lets go of her arm, going to shut the door to the bedroom.

“I’m going to measure you for a new gown,” the woman explains, holding up a measuring tape. Without waiting for a response, she sets to work wrapping it around various parts of Kamaria’s body while the two maids that are left assist her and write down the numbers she calls out. Kamaria stands stiffly, unsure of what to do or where to put her arms. She’s uncomfortable with all the hands in such close proximity to her, but at least these are female and aren’t hurting her right now.

“I have everything I need,” the seamstress announces eventually. “The fabric and trim is already chosen, and we’ll all work on this tirelessly until it’s done.”

“Good.” Roderick gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “See that you do. If all goes well I want to introduce her to His Majesty by tonight.”

The three of them curtsy and exit the room. One of the other maids peeks out from the door they’d exited through. “Her bath is ready.”

Roderick places a hand on her back and prods her forward. A bath…actually sounds rather nice. She is filthy, though she’d prefer that not be pointed out by this horrid man, and she’s certainly not going to let on that she’s grateful for anything they’re forcing on her.

The bathtub in the next room is, of course, also fancier than anything she’s ever seen. Roderick ushers her inside and leaves, and the maids immediately descend upon her, hands grabbing at her clothes. With a wordless shout, Kamaria swats them away, backing up until she bumps into the wall.

“We only wish to help you undress, Your Highness,” one explains, as if that somehow makes their intrusion better.

“Keep your hands off me! I’m not a Highness, and I definitely don’t need help getting undressed! Nor do I need you watching me get undressed! I’m not a child, I can bathe myself perfectly well.”

Roderick throws open the door and steps inside again. “Lower your voice, girl. You’re a princess now, there will be no shouting and causing a ruckus.”

She glares at him, arms crossed protectively over herself. “I’m not a princess, and I’m not staying here so there’s no need for me to adhere to all your stupid rules. You may have conquered Navar, but that doesn’t mean that -”

Stepping forward, he grabs a fistful of hair on the back of her head. “I said to lower your voice, and unless you want your head shoved into the water in that tub, I suggest you also keep war talk out of your mouth.”

Kamaria snaps her mouth shut, fury sparking in her eyes. She doesn’t want to follow this man’s orders, but she has no doubt at this point that he’ll follow through on his threat and she’d rather not be drowned.

This can’t last. She keeps hoping maybe it’s a nightmare that she’ll wake from soon, but even if it is reality…it can’t last. Either they’ll realize that this is a terrible decision and send her back, or she’ll escape somehow. There’s no way that she’s actually going to be stuck here for more than…a few days, maybe weeks.

So maybe, for now, she should just play along. Not enough to make them think that this actually is a good idea, but enough that she doesn’t keep getting hurt by this man. She can let her displeasure be known, but learn to stop before he gets too angry.

He stares her down for a few more seconds before deciding she’s done talking for now and releasing her hair. “Behave yourself and do as your maids say. Just hurry up and get in the bath.” Exiting the room, he slams the door shut behind him.

Kamaria narrows her eyes at the maids. Her maids, he’d called them. Well, if they’re her maids, and she’s supposed to be a princess, then they should listen to her, right? “I will undress myself. I don’t want you to touch me.”

The maids glance at each other. “I suppose it’s alright this time,” one replies. “In the future, though, Your Highness, your gowns will be much more complicated, and you’ll need help removing them.”

There’s no way she’s letting anyone put their hands all over her like that, ever. She’ll just have to figure out the so-called complicated gowns herself until she can get out of here. “And I don’t want you staring at me while I undress, either. Do royals have no sense of modesty, or is that an Ethorconite thing?”

Reluctantly, they turn their backs and allow her to undress and slip into the hot water herself. In all honesty, it feels extraordinarily nice, but not nice enough that she’s ready to turn her back on her people to indulge in it for the rest of her life.

An awkward hour later, Kamaria sits in front of an ornate mirror, wearing undergarments that cover nearly enough of her to be an actual gown and are made of the softest fabric she’s ever touched. Each of the maids is yanking a comb through her still-damp hair, trying to get rid of the never ending tangles, while they discuss how to style it when they’re done.

“A braid,” she says simply.

One of them frowns at her reflection. “A braid is too simplistic, Your Highness. You’ll need something regal to meet His Majesty.”

“Then multiple braids. That’s how the Navarian nobles style their hair.”

The maid sighs, turning her attention back to a particularly stubborn snarl. “You’re a princess of Ethorcon now. Not Navar.”

Kamaria jerks her head away, putting a hand to her sore scalp, and glares into the mirror. “So? What is the point of the king adopting a Navarian if you’re just going to try to turn me into an Ethorconite?” She reluctantly lowers her hand, allowing the combing to continue. “We all know that he doesn’t actually care anything about ‘extending goodwill’. Which means the only reason for him to do something like this is to try to fool people into thinking that he does actually care about us.”

“You shouldn’t talk about His Majesty that way.”

She continues on without pausing. “And if that’s the case, then shouldn’t I actually look like who I am? Doesn’t he want to be able to show me off and make sure everyone knows that it’s a Navarian he’s taken in?”

These thoughts have been occurring to her through everything that’s happened, but saying them aloud makes them much more terrifying and sickening than turning them over in her head. She’s a trophy, that’s what she is. What he wants her to be, at least. A shiny new thing that the king can wave around and use to prove how wonderful he is, while continuing to do absolutely nothing to actually help her people.

“There will be an announcement of your adoption in due time, and the people will be informed of your heritage then. But Lord Roderick and His Majesty want you to look the part of the princess of Ethorcon. And braids are not part of a traditional hairstyle here.”

“But -”

The door opens, and Roderick strides back into the room. “Are you still arguing?”

She snaps her mouth shut, transferring her glare to his reflection before finding her courage again. “I will have a braid somewhere in my hair.”

“You will do what you’re told, or you’re going to regret it.” He walks up beside her, and she wraps her arms around herself, trying to hide her immodesty. He just grabs her chin again and turns her face toward his. “At least you clean up decently, though you’ll look much better once that hair is dealt with.” His other hand comes up to brush across the purple bruise that has begun forming on her cheek, and she flinches away.

“Would you like us to do something to cover that, my lord?”

“Don’t bother.” He turns and walks back toward the door. “His Majesty will understand. I’m going to check on the seamstress’ progress and attend to a few other matters. Be sure her hair is finished by the time I return.”

She’s never had to sit still for so long in her life. It feels like all of her hair is going to fall out of her head by the time they’re done, but she does have to admit - to herself, at least - that they do a good job of making her curls look soft and shiny for the first time in two years. And the updo that they settle on is elegant and regal - for an Ethorconite, that is.

When she’s finally allowed a moment alone in the privacy of the bathroom, the first thing she does is tug out a section of hair on the side and braid it, then pins it back into place. She studies herself in the mirror. She’s thinner than she used to be. The last years have hollowed out her cheeks and made her collarbone more prominent, though nothing like poor Aisling’s. And now she looks ridiculous in this fancy foreign style, and she hasn’t even put on a gown yet.

At least she has the braid now, though. She’ll cling to any part of Navar that she can, no matter how hard they attempt to strip it all from her.

Eventually the maid knocks on the door, probably worried that she’s doing something drastic like destroying all their hard work by adding a braid to her hair. While she was inside, the second maid brought up a tray with lunch from the kitchen. Kamaria can smell it as soon as the cover is removed, and finds herself drawn to the table where it sits.

There’s so much food, and it’s all supposed to be for her. Poultry with a golden sheen, steaming vegetables, bread with butter pooling on top. For the longest time she just stares at it all. She wants it. The hunger that’s been a constant presence in her life for two years suddenly lurches to the forefront of her mind, demanding that she stuff everything on the tray into her mouth as quickly as she can.

But she also can’t stop seeing Aisling’s face. She’s the one who needed this, not Kamaria. It isn’t fair, that she should sit here in luxury and eat her fill of the finest foods, while her friend stays behind and continues to suffer.

“I can’t eat this.” She takes a step back, hand pressed against her stomach, eyes still fixated on the overflowing plate.

The maid sighs. “Why not, Your Highness? I understand that it’s not the cuisine you’re accustomed to -”

“I’m not accustomed to anything except scraps of whatever happens to be available!” she shoots back. “I just…I can’t. I can’t.” How can she explain that eating this food would feel like betraying the only person she’s cared for since losing her family? They wouldn’t understand, and they don’t need that kind of personal information about her.

“Well we’re not going to feed you scraps, Your Highness. You must eat.” She gestures to the food. “You don’t have to worry about going hungry anymore, all your needs will be provided for here.”

That’s the whole problem. But she’s right about one thing, she has to eat something. Especially if she ends up needing to escape from this place, if they don’t just kick her out, she’ll need energy and strength.

Reluctantly, she walks over and takes a seat and begins picking at the food. It’s delicious, but it’s so rich that she can barely stomach it, and guilt accompanies every bite. She only makes it through a small fraction of the pile before she’s pushing it away.

“I’m full.” She waves a hand without looking at the food again. “The two of you can have the rest if you’d like.” This isn’t the orphanage, food isn’t a rare and precious commodity. It’s doubtful they want to eat your leftovers, Kamaria. Among the children it was incredibly rare for someone to leave any of their food, but on the occasion that it happened there would always be a tussle to split the rest.

She spends the rest of the afternoon being trained by first the maids, then Roderick, on the perfect curtsy with which to greet the king. Despite her disdain for the idea - and her great desire to come up with the most disrespectful greeting she can to substitute - she tries her best to copy them and follow the instructions, especially once Roderick arrives and starts threatening to slap her around again. He’s still not happy with her performance by the time they end the lesson, but throws up his hands with a sigh and declares that it will do for now.

Finally, the seamstress arrives with the finished gown. She’s forced to let the maids help her slip it over her head and lace it, partially because Roderick is still lurking and she doesn’t feel like being hit for arguing again, and partially because they were, unfortunately, correct, and she probably wouldn’t be able to wrangle all of the fabric and reach the laces herself. The dress is a deep red, and it feels expensive, silky and smooth and so much skirt that she feels twice as heavy once it’s on.

Roderick stares her down critically, a scowl permanently painted on his face. “I suppose you’re as ready as you’re going to be. You look the part, at least.”

“How did this braid get here?” a maid gasps, and Kamaria can’t keep a smirk from quirking her lips.

“Never mind, it’s hardly noticeable and we don’t have time,” Roderick growls. “Let’s go.”

Her nerves rise as she’s led through the castle halls once again. She’s only a commoner, she’s never met anyone like a king before, and certainly not King Alaric, whom she’s heard so many stories about. Obviously she doesn’t care anything about making a good impression on him. She’d rather he take one look at her and immediately order Roderick to send her back.

But…this is the man who destroyed her country. This is the man who ordered his soldiers to kill her family and burn her home.

At one point, as a foolish, grieving child, she’d sworn that if she ever stood in his presence she would kill him herself. Now she’s expected to pretend to be his daughter.

The doors to the throne room tower over her head, ornately carved and inlaid with gold. They swing open suddenly, and she finds herself in the largest room she could ever imagine, with the king staring down from his throne a great distance away.

She freezes. Her feet won’t move forward, refusing to carry her into the same room as her mother’s murderer.

A hand on her back shoves her through the doorway. She nearly trips over the long skirt of her dress, but still can’t take her eyes off the man at the other end of the room. He’s as stern-faced and intimidating as she’d imagined, face pale beneath his black hair and beard and eyes bright and intense. They watch her every move as Roderick gives up on her walking herself and drags her by the arm.

The walk seems to go by in an instant and take an eternity all at once. Suddenly they’re at the foot of the steps that lead to the throne, and Roderick is pinching a bruise into her arm. Right, curtsy, she’s supposed to curtsy. Was she even planning on doing so? Maybe she was going to just stand here and refuse. It’s too late now, she’s already moving. Everything that they taught her this afternoon has escaped from her mind, though, and whatever motion she makes is clumsy and awkward. She can hear Roderick sigh quietly next to her.

“Your Majesty, may I present the Navarian girl that you requested. I’m afraid she will require quite extensive training before she’s ready to make an appearance as a princess, but rest assured that I am up to the task.”

King Alaric just keeps raking his eyes over her, stoic expression never changing. “How old is she? I thought you were getting a little one.”

There are so many things she should say to him, but they all stick in her throat. The emotions swirling through her chest are fighting against each other. She feels at once everything and nothing.

“Fourteen, I believe she said. I was originally planning for younger, but unfortunately she was the best option.”

The words finally take shape and burst from her lips. “No, I wasn’t! Aisling was the best option, I told you so right then and there, she would have flourished here and she would have been happy to do whatever you wanted.”

Roderick grabs her arm in the same place he was pinching it earlier. “You will hold your tongue in the presence of the king,” he hisses.

She tries to pull away from him, glaring daggers. “I told you I didn’t want to come here. If you want a perfect, obedient princess then you’ll send me back, because I will not be her.”

“Shut up, girl!” He twists her arm hard, wrenching her shoulder, and she gasps in pain. “I apologize on her behalf, Your Majesty. As I said, she requires extensive training. And the other child she’s referring to was sickly and frail, so don’t let her deceive you. She was the best choice…” He throws her a disdainful look. “Such as she is.”

King Alaric leans back in his throne, expression still unreadable, as Kamaria continues to glower at them both. “I must say I’m disappointed. I was hoping to have something I could present to the people sooner rather than later. I trust that your outing was discreet, at least?”

“Of course, Your Majesty. The orphanage worker was the only one outside the castle who knew of our mission, and she was paid handsomely to hold her tongue until the proper time.”

The king sighs, looking her over one more time. “Fine. Start your training and make sure absolutely everyone knows that she is to remain unknown until I make the announcement. I’m counting on you, Lord Roderick, to make this work.”

“Yes, Your Majesty, I will not fail you.” He bows his head, still firmly gripping her arm.

“Does the feral child have a name?”

There’s a pause, and Roderick shoots her a look, jaw tight with anger. She raises one eyebrow at him - oh now you want me to speak? Now that someone is actually bothering to find something out about me? - and the anger grows. He jerks his head toward the king, prompting her to answer.

She lets the silence linger for another moment before answering. “Kamaria.”

The king scoffs. “Of course. Well, at least there will be no mistaking that she’s Navarian.” He waves a lazy, ring-laden hand. “You’re dismissed.”

Kamaria has never been so glad to leave a room, though she’s furious that her hope to be sent back right away has been dashed. Part of her wants to run back and argue some more, to show the king just how bad of an idea this really is, but even if she had the courage, Roderick isn’t giving her that choice. He doesn’t let go of her arm until they’re back in the bedroom that’s been designated as hers.

Unfortunately, he’s just as angry as she is at how that meeting went. She’s gotten glimpses of what this new life under his control is going to be like throughout the day, but it’s that evening that she’s fully shown just what to expect from his training.

#bad things happen bingo #gilded cage #original content #whump of a minor #lady whump #lady whumpee #referenced parental death #referenced war #referenced fire #manhandling #stabbing #hitting #prejudice tw #hunger tw #corporal punishment #the shadow of death #kamaria the assassin #royal au #whump writing

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faofinn · 2 years ago

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DAY 16: semi-conscious

@febuwhump

Everything was…hazy. Nothing really made sense, and he wasn't entirely sure where he was, or, if he was honest, who he was.

He was warm though, and rarely in much pain. There were people around, talking to him, but their words were fleeting and he never managed to make them out.

They’d been trying to get Harrison out for a long while. He’d been known to them from a young age, but his family were difficult and without formal social services intervention, their hands were tied.

And then they got news that things had truly broken down with the family, that Hars was in hospital critically unwell, and that he needed the support of ARCC. A young wolf all alone, he needed a pack. Needed people behind him. Fred and Sheila had a lot on their plates, and so they spoke to Steve and asked him to reach out to the kid. He’d been doing such a great job working with the more troubled kids, and they knew he’d be a good fit to give Harrison the support he needed.

So he headed to the hospital, intending just to touch base with Harrison’s care team, get some more information, and speak to the kid if he was up to it. He understood how critical things were, that he was still somewhat sedated amongst other things, but it would be good to at least see him.

He’d bought a little stuffed animal, too. He knew it was daft, the kid was 13, after all. But it felt right, somehow, to offer him a little bit of comfort amongst it all. Hospital was a scary place, no matter how old you were. It was a little ginger tabby cat, the softest toy he’d found in the shop, and he hoped it would bring the kid some comfort.

After a nice conversation with Harrison’s nurse, they let him into his room. It was quiet, aside from the soft noises of the medical equipment, and he took a careful seat next to the bed. The boy in the bed looked small, asleep under the sheets, pale with his hair a mess. As so not to disturb him, Steve carefully tucked the cat up next to him. After a moment’s deliberation, he took his hand, squeezing it gently. He wasn’t sure how aware the boy was, how much he’d remember, but he wanted to make an effort.

“Hi, kid. I’m Steve.” He said, his voice soft. “You’ve really been through the mill. I’m really sorry it happened, but you’re safe now. Got a whole pack looking out for you.”

His words were gentle, as was his touch. He fought against the sedation, squinting at the man. He didn’t recognise him, though he doubted he would have anyway. The scents were all wrong, mixed with the sterility of the hospital.

Steve hummed. “Hey. Didn’t expect you to wake up. It’s okay, you’re safe.”

He blinked slowly, taking a moment to just try and figure out what was going on. He finally noticed the new arrival on the bed, and frowned. It took a little longer for him to manage to reach for it with the hand not in Steve’s, a small smile playing on his face.

Steve smiled back. “Thought you might like a friend.”

"Mine?"

“Yeah, he’s for you.”

"Oh."

“He’s not got a name though, you’ll have to think of one.”

He almost gave a shrug. That was too much to think about.

“For later.” Steve soothed, aware the boy would be struggling. “Are you in any pain?” He asked gently.

He shook his head. It wasn't pain, just…uncomfortable.

“No pain is good.”

Harrison hummed, shuffling slightly to get more comfortable. He instinctively pulled the cat closer, giving Steve's hand a soft squeeze.

“That’s it, you get comfortable.”

It didn’t take much for Harrison to fall asleep again, and he soon drifted, safe and content. He woke a little while later, and couldn't quite believe the man was still there.

Steve let him sleep, glad he was getting some rest. God knows he needed it. When he woke again, he didn’t move for a minute, letting him adjust to being awake again.

He gave a small smile, trying to clear his throat. "Hi."

“Hi.”

"It hurts a little."

“Here, where’s your button? We’ll call a nurse in.” Steve said softly, standing up.

"I don't know."

“I’ll have a look, is that okay?”

He nodded, his lip trembling slightly. "I'm sorry."

“It’s alright, you’ve not done anything wrong.”

"I have." He whimpered quietly.

Steve easily found the buzzer, and pressed it to bring the nurse in. He sat down afterwards, not wanting to intimidate him further.

He pushed the cat away from him, worried he was going to be told off. "I'm sorry."

“Hey, it’s okay.” Steve said gently. “The cat is yours and you don’t need to be sorry.”

"No."

“It’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you.”

"Why?"

“I’m not that kind of person.”

Despite the pain, Harrison struggled to stay awake, stuck somewhere between conscious and the past.

Hesitantly, Steve moved the little stuffed cat closer to the boy. “It’s alright. Nobody is going to hurt you now.”

"I wasn't bad." He murmured. "I wasn't."

“You‘ve not been bad.” Steve said, his heart breaking. “You’re alright. Going to get you some painkillers.”

"I didn't say anything." He looked straight through Steve, focused on something, someone that wasn't there.

“It’s okay. You’re not in trouble.”

He gripped the cat absently. "I was good."

“You’ve been so good.” Steve told him. “You’re okay.”

Harrison gave a tiny nod, finally hearing Steve. "I was good."

“You’ve been so good.” He repeated.

"Oh, Steve, you're still here?" The nurse asked, finally answering the call bell. "Is everything okay?"

“Hi, sorry. Wanted to stay until he woke again. He was saying he was in a bit of pain, I wondered if he could have anything extra?”

"Yeah, of course. I'll go grab him something. Bless, he's just getting used to being awake again, isn't he?"

“Yeah, he is. Trying to be a consistent person for him. Thank you.”

"He definitely needs that."

“Yeah, exactly.”

They weren't long, returning with some pain meds. She shook Harrison’s arm gently, speaking softly to him. "Hars? Sweetheart? Got your painkillers."

He gave a quiet noise in acknowledgement, too deep to do much else. She took that as his recognition she was there, it was more than most would usually get anyway. It didn’t take long to give and she hummed, stepping back.

"There you go, I'll leave you two alone."

“Thank you.” Steve said gently.

Harrison whimpered softly, reaching out for the older man. "Steve?"

Steve was surprised he’d remembered his name. “Yeah?”

"Thanks."

“Oh, you’re welcome.”

Harrison smiled then, still semi-conscious, everything still hazy. And for the first in a long, long time, he felt safe.

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samtheacesheep · 1 year ago

Text

Work Description:

Melissa Chase breaks Milo Murphy, the villain, her sworn enemy, out of prison. Her view of herself and her world crumbles before her eyes.

#whumptober2023 #no.15 #‘I don’t need you to help me I can handle things myself’#suppressed suffering #‘I’m fine’#mml #fic #implied/referenced torture #minor whump #mml fairytale au #I wrote a thing

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wangxianficfinder · 28 days ago

Text

In the mood for...

Jan 14th

~*~

1. Itmf fics where Jin Guangyao is good? Very broad topic, lol, but yeah. Fics where he doesn't murder or backstab, fics where he actually is helpful and smart and a good uncle to Jin Ling. Thank you!

walk away from the sun by KouriArashi (M, 107k, LXC/JGY, LXC & LWJ, WangXian, LWJ & JGY, LXC & NMJ, Canon Divergence, Angst, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Developing Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Politics, supportive brothers, supportive husbands, Canon-Typical Violence, Lan Family Feels, Everybody Lives, Eventual Happy Ending)

The Edge of Night by Hobbsy3 (M, 277k, WangXian, XuanLi, Modern AU, Zombie Apocalypse, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamics, Accidental Baby Acquisition During a Zombie Apocalypse, Junior Quartet, (except they’re all babies), Angst with a Happy Ending, Minor Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Ensemble Cast, Worst Zombie Fighting Team Ever, Found Family) translations available in multiple languages

❤️ And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 138k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together, And Time is But a Paper Moon [PODFIC] by sami, Winterstar1412, [Podfic] Cold read of And Time Is But A Paper Moon by kisahawklin, multiple translations available) multiple podfics and translations into multiple languages available

somewhere to belong by KouriArashi (T, 62k, 3zun, JGY & NHS, WangXian, JGY & WWX, Canon Divergence, Friendship, Developing Relationship, Families of Choice, Class Issues, Bullying, Light Angst, Politics, Eventual Plot, Happy Ending)

~*~

2. Hi, Itmf fic where instead of characters watching the truth abouth yllz, the whole jianghu is watching uncensored truth about most of cultivators: like assault and imprisonment of lwj mother, rapes by jgs, resentment in nie etc.

Wondered if there is something like this. Thank you!

Song of Joy and Regrets by HelloKitten (Not Rated, 134k, WIP, WangXian, Angst, Self-Harm, Child Abuse, Time Travel Fix-it)

💖 The Path by Seastar98 (Not Rated, 279k, WangXian, CQL Verse, Golden core reveal, Fix-it of sorts, Angst with a happy ending) Song of Joy and Regrets and The Path feature people learning about atrocities committed by other cultivators in addition to facts about Wei Ying's life.

~*~

3. For the next ITMF: fics where WWX suffers chronic pain as a result of the core surgery and/or injuries that never quite healed. (Nothing where resentful energy is the main problem, because it wasn't really.) Modern AUs with some other illness/disability are okay too. Bonus points if he tries to hide it, because ofc he will if he can. Extra bonus points if it includes or is entirely from someone else's POV. Thank you! 🖤🐇 @linderel

How to Treat Your Injured Yiling Laozu by merakily (T, 3k, WangXian, Chronic Pain, Whump, Love Confessions, Literal Sleeping Together, Burial Mounds, Golden Core Reveal, LWJ has a lot of feelings about WWX being in pain, Hurt WWX)

Aftermath by KouriArashi (T, 57k, XuanLi, WangXian, XiYao, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Romance, Developing Relationship, Family, Sibling Bonding, Light Angst, Politics, Attempted Sexual Assault) Jiang Yanli notices Wei Ying has chronic pain following his core removal surgery in Aftermath

🔒💙 Holding shreds by barisan (T, 5k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, No Sunshot Campaign, Body Swap, Not for sexy shenanigans, Chronic Pain, Hurt WWX, Hurt LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abusive YZY, Bad Parent YZY, Bad Parent JFM, Good Uncle LQR, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, POV WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jiāng Family Bashing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Getting Together, Smart WWX)

The Core Issue by Hauntcats (T, 21k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Canon Divergence)

🔒 the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break by RoseThorne (E, 105k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Fix-It, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Handfasting, Panic Attacks, Getting Together, First Time, Aftercare, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, /Referenced Torture, Scars, Chronic Pain, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Switching, sex-related injury, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, LSZ is a Wèi, Good Sibling JC, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Disability, Scheming NHS, Disabled Character)

Ornaments Under the Stars by trippednfell (M, 62k, WangXian, WIP, Modern, Inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, the wangxian Hallmark Movie AU no one asked for, plot and title were randomly generated, Kidfic, Disabled Character, debilitating injury as substitute for missing golden core, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Angst with a Happy Ending, Guest starring Lan Zhan’s sky blue coat, The Coat deserves its own tag, disordered eating habits - not a major plot point) wy has to use a cane because if a leg injury

~*~

4. Are there any wei Wuxian havin hanahaki Disease for Lan wangji @yuukikonnos-world

Regret Blossoms by piecrust (G, 7k, WangXian, Hanahaki Disease) Wangxian are in mutual hanahaki

not in so many words by jaws_3 (T, 18k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, offshoot of a hanahaki au, somehow without the angst, but WITH the body horror warning that comes with coughing up flowers, Fluff, Getting Together, Mutual Pining)

Slowly Growing On Me by Latios (T, 9k, WangXian, Hanahaki Disease, Allergies, Flowers, Hanahaki AU, LWJ has allergies, Angst with a Happy Ending)

This Lantern Shines For You by apollonie (M, 10k, WangXian, Hanahaki Disease, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Canon, Pining WWX, WWX Needs a Hug, LWJ is a Disaster Gay)

Blooming You a Garden Inside Me by xxxMiaHikarixxx (G, 93k, WIP, WangXian, Hanahaki Disease, Angst, Happy Ending, Pain, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Good Sibling JC, One-Sided WWX/WN, POV Multiple, JC and WWX Talk About Feelings, JZX & WWX Friendship, Good Sibling LXC, Eventual ChengQing, Protective LWJ, Dark LWJ, Protective JC, Protective NHS, Scheming NHS, BAMF LWJ)

bloody flowers i made for you. by anxiouswreck0_0 (T, 3k, WangXian, Hanahaki Disease, Angst, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending)

~*~

5. i was wondering if someone had written a what if wei wuxians parents lived au ? ive seen some fics where he gets taken in by a sect other than the Jiang but what if his parents lived is so interesting to me yk? happy new year btw 🐍🐍🐍 hope its a good year for yall !!

Building a home by R95irth (T, 586k, WCZ/CS, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-it, Angst with a happy ending, Family fluff)

We Meet at the Thousandth Step by Admiranda, Rynne (T, 316k, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, CSSR & WCZ Live, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Different First Meeting, Night Hunts, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Plot, Romance, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to married, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Everyone Lives, Developing Relationship, Minor Violence, Case Fic, Mystery, Flirting, WWX’s Canon-Typical Flower Flirting, Arson, There Was Only One Bed, Getting Together, First Kiss, Meeting the Parents, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, WWX Is a Good Big Brother, New Relationship Bliss, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Blood and Injury, Yiling siblings, Married WangXian, Honeymoon, Wangxian’s Baby Fever)

🔒Wújī by FairyTaleDreams (M, 55k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, WCZ & CSSR Lives, Rouge cultivator WWX)

marital customs by shijieswife (M, 2k, WIP, CSSR/WCZ, WangXian, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, CSSR and WCZ Live Meeting the Parents, Protective Parents, Happy Ending, (they get married !!!), Implied Sexual Content)

🧡 Resplendence by FrozenMarVel ( E, 187k, WIP, WangXian, CS Lives, Rouge cultivator WWX, Crossdressing, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of sorts, Fluff, Explicit smut) Wei Ying grows up just with his mom in Resplendence

Cartwheels In Cloud Recesses Series by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 23k, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, CSSR and WCZ Live, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans)

🔒 the world wags on by justdoityoufucker (orphan_account) (T, 5k, WCZ & WWX, WCZ & LQR, LQR/WCZ, Canon Divergence, Pre-Canon, Not Everyone Dies AU, Not Jiang Clan Friendly, Past Child Abuse, Canon Jiang Family Relationships, Parent-Child Relationship, Pre-Relationship, Not for Madam Yu fans) wcz lives

The Wei of family by HikariNoHimeWriter (E, 46k, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, CSSR and WCZ Live, Rogue Cultivator WWX, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Male omega with vagina, Vaginal Fingering, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Vaginal Sex, First Time, Falling In Love, some violence, Genius WWX, WWX Has ADHD, CSSR Has ADHD, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Eventual Smut, Love Confessions, Mating Bond, WangXian Elope, Kinda, Not JC Friendly, not yzy friendly, Mpreg, Crossdressing)

~*~

6. I'm in the mood for a fic in which A) Wei Ying accidentally kills or hurts Lan Zhan, and then he realizes he's lost the one he loves. There's endless pining and yearning for him, but somehow, Lan Wangji comes back to life in the end, and they have a happy ending. Any type of fic is fine—lengthy or short, it doesn't matter—but no modern AU, please.

B) Sorry, I have another request too: a fic where Wei Ying isn't oblivious to Lan Wangji's one-sided love, set in the CQL verse with a happy ending :) @vintagesoul999

6A)

If I Could Go Back in Time by Runningbarefoot (M, 122k, WangXian, NieLan, Canon Divergence, Role Reversal, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, YL WWX, Eventual Happy Ending, The Twin Jade Brotherhood, Hurt/Comfort, Character Study, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Slow Burn) but I didn't read it whole, but so far it fits

6B)

30 Days of Secret Marriage at Cloud Recesses by starandrea (T, 43k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Bunnies, Gusu Lan Forehead Ribbon, Accidental Marriage, Coming Out, Falling In Love, supportive family, Fluff, Happy Ending, the whole story is happy)

it’s just (aah) a little crush (crush!) by sweetlolixo (T, 9k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Romance, Fluff, Pining LWJ, Humor, Courting Rituals, Teen Wangxian)

Just Say Yes Series by edenwolfie (T/M, 338k, WangXian, Matchmaking, Pining, Getting Together, Canon Divergence, POV Alternating, Fluff, First Kiss, Declarations Of Love, Humor, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Good Uncle LQR, Engagement, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It)

~*~

7. I just sent a ff for a specific fic about this but I was wondering if there's any other fics with the premise of LWJ drinks tea like it's alcohol? Like, WWX knows when LWJ is annoyed because he just starts drinking cup after cup of tea or eating something specific. Just fics where LWJ has a tell for when he's angry/annoyed/overwhelmed or something if that makes sense? thank you 🌈

~*~

8. Hello!! Im looking for a fic rec similar to At heart by apathyinreverie, its such a great read that has left me wanting for more of wwx happily atticwifing himself

🔒🧡Company by WithBroomBefore (T, 29k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Pre-Relationship, Getting Together, POV LWJ, Fix-It, Pre-Canon, at least to start, WWX goes to Cloud Recesses, But Not In The Usual Way, fear of character death, Everybody Lives, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Light Angst, good teacher LQR, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, brief discussion of past minor character suicide, Kitten, Not YZY Friendly)

🔒Bright Voice Roughly Rendered Softly Silent by Preludian_Staves (T, 26k, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, No Golden Core Transfer, Muteness, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Not JC Friendly, Confessions, Angst, Choking, Red String of Fate, Appearances by Paperman!WWX, Inventor WWX, Good Uncle LQR, WWX goes to Cloud Recesses, Feelings Realization, Caretaking, Supportive Lan Family, Genius WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Protective LWJ, Protective Lan Family, Character Death (not wwx or lwj))

Lay my body down by tawaen (M, 48k, WWX & WQ, WWX & WN, wangxian, WWX & JYL, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Eventual WangXian, No Golden Core Transfer, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Canon-Typical Violence, Not JC Friendly, What if WWX saw the first siege of the burial mounds and said Nope to the war, OCs, OC point-of-view for one chapter for plot reasons)

~*~

9. hi!! this is for the itmf — recently read a small threadfic/hc where wwx was a heavenly demon but supressed in some kind (and also the grandsom of tianlang jun) and i was wondering there werw any canon-era fics where wwx was a demon of some kind, or related to luo binghe, or anything. thanks !

It's Not The Destination (But The People You Save Along The Way) by Arcxus (T, 65k, WIP, WangXian, Fix-It of Sorts, character death is WWX, MXY Lives, God of Death!WWX, WWX is a Little Shit, Mutual Pining, Demon WWX, LWJ humour agenda, Angst, For Want of a Nail, BAMF WWX, Sentient Burial Mounds, Twin Prides of Yunmeng Feels, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, Worldbuilding, Politics, WWX is Good With Children, WWX is a Jiang)

ghosts do not speak of lies and truth by LunaChi_KuroShihone (T, 6k, WangXian, Burial Mounds, Canonical Character Death, Body Horror, Horror, Ghosts, Character Undeath, demon!WWX, Mild Gore, junior trio plus zizhen make an appearance, YLLZ WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Gentle Kissing, Supportive LWJ, Hurt WWX, WWX-centric, Sad WWX, Soft WangXian, Implied Cannibalism)

Hello, Neighbor!!! by Dragon_Scribe (M, 69k, WangXian, LBH/SQQ, MbJ/SQH, Canon Divergence, Demon wwx, Crossover, Found Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dimension Travel?, Mystery, Mind Control, Love Confessions, Self-Indulgent) might also work but Wei Ying gets "adopted" by Luo Binghe after being thrown into the Burial Mounds.

~*~

10. Hi lovelies! My first ITMF of 2025 is the trope as old as time - confessions made during a heated argument (extra points for the confessor completely petrified by what they let slip). Wangxian, preferably a one-shot but I'm not picky!

Regrets by antebunny (G, 38k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Canon Divergence, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Explicit Descriptions of Love, and other squishy feelings, Angst with a Happy Ending)

~*~

11. Are there any Wangxian fics where Wei Wuxian is in the burial mounds with the Wen remnants and Lan Shah visits him and they get some relationship development but they have an argument about demonic cultivation and then its just so intense they just start kissing and other stuff (plot stuff can happen too, thats just one of the things I want to see😅) If there are, please let me know, please and thank you and have a nice day or night😁 @yasssbassss

Propagate Understanding by draechaeli (E, 175k, WangXian, Not Everyone Dies, Pregnancy Kink, Consensual Non-Consent, Light Bondage, Adoption, Adoption but WWX birthed them all, MXY Lives, MXY has an arc, Original Children Characters, Babies for Everyone, Crossdressing, Temporary Character Death, easy to skip nsfw chapters, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Canon Divergence)

~*~

12. Hi! I'm wondering if you have any fic recs where Lan Zhan was born first, instead of Lan Xichen? I'm in the mood to read about how that may have impacted the story if such a thing exists. Thank you!!

Strong enough to carry him- he ain't heavy, he's my brother. by Starlitverses (Not Rated, 5k, WIP, LXC & LWJ, WangXian, LWJ & NMJ, LXC & NHS & NMJ, Twin Jades of Lan Dynamics, Brotherly Love, LXC Deserves Happiness, Protective LWJ, Age Swap, First jade LWJ, Second Jade LXC, Sect Leader LWJ, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt LWJ, Hurt LXC, LXC & WWX Friendship, Protective Older Brothers, NMJ & LWJ bonding over their little brothers, WangXian learn actual communication, Meddling LXC, you thought older brother LXC was scary? LWJ is worse, Older LWJ, Older WWX, everyone loves and wants to protect LXC, LXC-centric, LWJ will destroy anyone that hurts his brother)

~*~

13. Hello! First time using this, not a specific wangxian fic, but do you have any where the cultivation world assumes wei ying gave birth to A-Yuan? Thank you and ur finders in advance! @knight-cross

Taking Responsibility by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 6k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Getting Together, Trope Subversion/Inversion, Pretend mpreg, Accidental Baby Acquisition, lots of accidental baby acquisition, all of the accidental babies are acquired, Let LWJ have babies, Fluff and Crack)

Wei Wuxian, God of Fertility by tired (T, 19k, WangXian, Family Feels, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack, the juniors get REAL drunk, Gossip, POV Multiple, surprisingly not an mpreg fic, Kissing, Self-Esteem Issues, Discussion of Porn and Sex, Post-Canon, SOFT SOFT SOFT, married wangxian, Fluff and Humor)

🔒 Serendipity b yluckymoonly (T, 6k, WangXian, LSZ/LJY, Post-Canon, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Family Feels, The Juniors and their lack of knowledge of where babies actually come from, Fluff, First time parenting a baby, Mentions of WWX's canon mpreg kink, Adoption, WWX and NHS are BFF, Happy Ending)

chapters 44 and 45 of 🧡 Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 283k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious)

~*~

14. Hi! For the next itmf I’d like to see some dumbass Wei Wuxian! Like don’t get me wrong, I love clever WWX as much as the next person but I’d like to read a fic (crack preferably) where’s he’s just a straight up dumbass, an idiot sandwich

Thank youuuu✨✨

diamonds are wei wuxian’s worst enemy by thefaceofno (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern AU, Miscommunication, Angst with a happy ending)

every time we kiss i swear i could fly by sarahyyy (T, 2k, WangXian, Modern, College/University, Kissing Booths, Misunderstandings, Getting Together, First Kiss, Love Confessions)

🔒 The Swan and the Dumbass by ElDiablito_SF (E, 16k, WangXian, Humor, Crack, Fairy Tale, But also Angst and Tragedy, But not too much tragedy, and it's followed by an entire sexpilogue so you know, tw: angry swans, WWX is a pushy bottom, LJW is a consummate service top, Swan Lake Fusion, Explicit Sexual Content)

a life in your shape by occultings (microcomets) (T, 8k, WangXian, WQ/MM, Modern, College/University, Misunderstandings, Confessions, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, almost 9k of dramatic irony, [PODFIC] a life in your shape by occultings by mistynrisky)

Wild in the Streets by danegen (E, 11k, WangXian, WIP, Modern with Magic, POV LWJ, Switching, Vampires, Set in America, So many pop culture references, Mama Lan and Mama Wei are alive because I say so, no jiangs, Vampire WWX, Supernatural LWJ) I'm not sure if this is your flavor of idiot wei ying😅

come rest your bones next to me by tired (T, 39k, wangxian, hogwarts au, mistaken identity, comedy of errors, magic, animagus, awkward flirting, shenigans, quidditch, injuries, happy ending, getting together)

~*~

15. hello!! hope you are having a wonderful day :) For the next ITMF, are there any good zombie apocalypse fics? sort of like The Edge of Night

❤️ A Corpse Called By Name by jaemyun (Not rated, 60k, wangxian, angst w/ happy ending, zombie apocalypse, zombie WWX, yunmeng trio, A Corpse Called By Name by jaemyun [Podfic] (WIP) by Miss Appellation (Lizeth))

Darkness Before the Dawn by Selenay (E, 64k, WangXian, Zombie Apocalypse, Modern: Still Have Powers, Necromancer WWX, Reunions, toddler A-Yuan, There Was Only One Bed, There are zombies but not graphically horrific zombies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Find a home in the middle of an apocalypse)

🔒 when the sun goes out by travelingneuritis (E, 176k, WangXian, Modern Cultivation, tech cultivation, Necromancy, Angst with a Happy Ending, insecurity around adoption, Dad!WWX, dad!lwj, Grief/Mourning, Mistaken Identity, Mood Whiplash, Body Swap, sex tears!, Falling In Love, Consensual Somnophilia, apocalypse (localized), Smut, unrealistic sexual stamina, Flashbacks, Time Skips, Illustrations)

~*~

16. hiii i recently discovered my undying love for JZX and would like more fics which are centered around him

🧡 Song by WithBroomBefore (T, 41k, Platonic Soulbond, Hurt/comfort, Canon Divergence, No golden core transfer, JC&JZX stay in Xuanwu cave, Fix-it, Temporary character death, [PODFIC] Song by Gwogobo) Jin Zixuan isn't the focus of Song but he plays a major role in it.

Jin Zixuan Does the Time Warp by marigold_sigil (G, 7k, XuanLi, Time Travel, Fix-It, Crack Treated Seriously, Awkward JZX, Good Person JZX, Temporary Character Death, Everybody Lives, JZX & WWX Friendship, Good Sibling JZX, JZX makes friends, Bad Humor, JZ Bashing, JGS Bashing, Qíshān Wēn Sect Bashing, Sect Leader JZX, POV JZX, Canon Relationships, JGY Redemption)

ask until your heart gets it right by Stratisphyre (G, 6k, XuanLi, Implied XiYao, Background WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fluff and Humor, Unreliable Narrator JZX, Minor surprise pairing at the end, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies)

giant mancala by astrolesbian (T, 1k, JC & WWX & JZX, XuanLi, WangXian, JZX POV, Drinking, Bonding)

🔒The Emperor's New Clothes by bonyenne (G, 556, JC & JZX, XuanLi, Modern AU, College/University, Humor, JZX is a good boyfriend, JC is So Done, JZX Tries)

🔒The Throats of Our Wrists Brave Lilies by greyskais (M, 85k, WIP, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Sunshot Campaign, Male-Female Friendship, Espionage, BAMF JYL, JYL has an Ace Up Her Sleeve, Give MY Friends Agenda, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Assassination Attempt(s), Family Secrets, JC Needs a Hug, Everyone Needs A Hug) The archive just went down so I can't check if this is more JYL or JZX focused, but it's definitely about the two of them working together and was very highly rec'd to me

❤️🔒 Candy & Conspiracies by Reverie (cl410) (T, 16k, WangXian, JZX & WWX, Jīn Sect WWX, Chaos Gremlin WWX, Fluff and Crack, Humor, Cloud Recesses, Found Family, pure idiocy, And some light murder, the chaotic jin trio we could have had, good madam jin, No Angst, Canon Divergence)

watch what we’ll become by glitteringmoonlight (T, 60k, JZX & WWX, WangXian, Background JZX/JYL, WWX & JZX are married but completely platonically, featuring my let WWX and JZX be bros agenda, slow burn? is it even a slow burn if they confess but can’t be together for Reasons?, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Angst with a Happy Ending, you’ve heard of enemies to friends to lovers, now get ready for enemies to reluctant husbands to begrudging best friends)

🔒 long bygone burdens by humancorn (T, 17k, JYL/JZX, JZX & WWX, Time Travel Fix-It, Time Travelling JZX, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, JZX-centric, JZX Tries, JZX & WWX Friendship, Wife Guy JZX, He’s doing his best ok, Canon Divergence, mentions of corporal punishment)

If It's Me You Need To Turn To, We'll Get By by little-smartass (Linxcat) (G, 19k, JYL/JZX, JZX & JGY, JYL & JGY, Canon Divergence, Mentions of Canonical Abuse, discussions of post-partum depression/similar mental health struggles, JZX loves his wife so much you guys, Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, sickfic that accidentally saves canon, the 3zun relationships are in the second chapter and are minor)

Marital Prospects by Vamillepudding (G, 18k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Romantic Comedy, Misunderstandings, LWJ Needs a Hug)

Fowl Play by Alwritey87 (G, 2k, JYL/JZX, JZX & WWX, JC & JZX, JZX & JL & JYL, JC & JL, Everyone Lives, JYL & JZX Live, Awkward JZX, JZX & WWX Friendship, Good Person JZX, JZX Tries, Married JYL/JZX, JL Loves JC, JZX & WWX recreate the scene from the titanic but on a sword, JL & WWX Bonding, WWX makes it to JL 100th day celebration, Happy Ending, JZX's happy family, Ducks save the day, JZX loves his wife)

The Unbearable Pain of Being Seen series by meyari (T, 9k, WangXian, Pre-Relationship, Slice of Life, slice of war, PTSD, Canon Compliant, Sunshot Campaign, the unbearable reality of seeing someone in pain, the unbearable pain of being seen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Grooming, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jin Murder Baby Patrol, Warning: JGS, Not Canon Compliant, Off-screen Rape, Off-Screen Murder, Fluff and Crack, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Murder, Murder Mystery, surprise acceptance)

Brittle Steel Slicing Through by meyari (T, 19k, JYL/JZX, WangXian, Major Character Death, Sunshot Campaign, War, aftermath of war, PTSD, Warning: Jin Guangshan, fuck that guy, murder as a method of problem solving, murder as a flirtation method, learning to communicate for idiots, Time Travel Fix-It, Jin Murder-Babies FTW, Fluff and Crack)

~*~

17. Hii, I hope you're haveing a good day until now!! For the next ITMF, I was wondering if there are any murder mystery( mystery solving in general), case fics and all that shebang but the characters are in highschool! Just has the vibe of the show School Spirits, actually.

(sorry if this is too specific 😭)

🔒 Grandmaster of Demonic Party Games by Trickster_Angel (M, 51k, WangXian, Occult, Ouija, Modern, College, WWX's into the occult and drags his friends along, Paranormal, Fun, Humor, Horror, Sharing a Bed, Pizza, The way to a college student's heart is through food, Slow Burn, Mild Sexual Content, Oblivious, WWn is a moron, Crack, Misunderstandings, Jealousy, Serious Treated Crack, Light Angst, Secrets, some darker elements, Mutual Pining, Emotional Constipation, Morons both of them)

~*~

18. ITMF some good JYL/JZX centric fics ^^

All you need is Love (and 15 years (and MianMian)) by Scrippio (T, 7k, JYL/JZX, JZX & MM & JYL, Modern, school au, (some of it), Fluff, Getting Together)

from the top, this time with personality by thunderwear (G, 17k, JYL/JZX, WangXian, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, cloud recesses days, JYL stands up for herself, Canon Divergence, Family Feels, love in its many forms)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

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obikinbb · 2 months ago

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✨Doubt Thou The Stars Are Fire✨

Author: @usakostar Artist: @aberrantcreature

Word Count: 20,000 words Rating: Explicit Pairing(s): Obi-Wan Kenobi / Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader Archive and Content Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions of Violence Key Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Fantasy, Tragedy, Mystery, Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Mild Gore, Eye Trauma, Whump, Minor-character death, Murder, Kidnapping, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Angst, Loneliness, Force Dyad (Star Wars), Force Visions (Star Wars), Force Bond (Star Wars), Dreams and Nightmares, Sith Artifacts (Star Wars), Sith Magic & Rituals (Star Wars), Curses, The Dark Side of the Force (Star Wars), Implied/Referenced Torture, Drinking to Cope, Suicidal Thoughts, Descent into Madness, Unreliable Narrator, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Original Character(s), Ambiguous/Open Ending

Summary: Anakin has been waiting for Obi-Wan for years, for him to come and end his torment.

The horror of it all, the absolute nightmare he’s been living, the devastation he’s visited upon the galaxy - Anakin has all but forgotten what life was like before he was forced to become a monster.

He is a dying star. And Obi-Wan Kenobi his last hope.

If only the man knew.

[Link to fic] [Link to art]

#usakostar #aberrantcreature #obikin big bang 2024 #obikin

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birchbow · 1 month ago

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Chapters: 3/17 Rating: Mature Relationships: Gamzee Makara & Karkat Vantas, Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Karkat Vantas, Gamzee Makara, Lord English (Homestuck), Doc Scratch (Homestuck), Homestuck Ensemble, Calliope (Homestuck), The Felt (Homestuck), It's really a 'everybody is around doing things' fic I genuinely don't know how to tag this Additional Tags: Winter Soldier Pastiche, with everything that entails so read carefully!, Humanstuck, Urban Fantasy, Home-Brew Magic System Shit Don't @ Me, Time Shenanigans, Karkat Vantas Makes Bad Decisions This Is A Forewarning, Polyamory Negotiations, Hurt/Comfort, Lord English's Fun-Time Brainwashing Time-Travel Torture Gang, Aftermath Of...... Everything....., Past Torture(physical/psychological/spiritual/emotional--largely inexplicit but not entirely), Past Brainwashing, Possession, implied/referenced past rape/non-con, (sexually not described in detail and more explicity nonsexual Cal-flavored intimacy/tenderness), God Finds It Funny To Hurt You But Also Won't Let You Die, Let's be clear: plotty gamzee whump with a, Happy Ending

Chapter 3: An Insolent Nonbeliever

You’d do whatever the fuck you had to, to keep him here with you. You’d carve out your heart and feed it to him, if you thought he’d remember the taste.

#homestuck #gamzee makara #karkat vantas #dave strider #davekat #gamkar #anyway happy new year! I simply MUST go to bed I worked all night and I'm so tired and having SUCH bad heartburn haha #KVvTEG

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steviewashere · 5 months ago

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Look After You

Pairings: Steve Harrington & Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington & Steve Harrington's Father, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: Teen and Up CWs: Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Violence, Blood & Injury, Implied/Referenced Homophobia Tags: Post-Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington Whump, Platonic Stancy, Nancy Wheeler is a Sweetheart, Nancy Wheeler Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Injured Steve Harrington, Sad Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Minor Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, But Their Relationship is a Key Stone to the Whole Plot, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington's Dad is an Asshole, Use of Queer as a Slur (Steve Referring to Himself) Title from "Look After You" by The Fray

🫂——————🫂 The car crawls on the wet asphalt. It’s dark, cold, sprinkling now that the heaviest part of the downfall has subsided. And Nancy isn’t going to take any risks with driving tonight. Not after all she’s survived.

It’s hard to spot what’s ahead of her through the droplet covered windshield. She turns the wipers on—squeak…squeak…squeak. Turns up the heater another notch on the dial when her fingers begin to ache again from the cold. And lowers the volume on the radio—“Barracuda” by Heart begins to dwindle—the crackling through her speakers from a tape Jonathan gave her as a gift. “Fitted with the best tracks I could find that suited you, Nance.”

She has more tapes in the center console. One from Robin, a mash of Madonna and The Beatles that she suspects came from lingering Vecna anxiety. A short and sweet mix from Eddie—Dio becoming a new favorite band, surprisingly. And an old, tired tape from ’83, crafted specifically for her by Steve. She remembers the effort he put into it. How he nervously gave it to her, how his hands shook, his smile fond and lightly embarrassed. There were songs on it that he liked, noticeably Queen and Springsteen; but there was Bowie and Blondie, too—for her, genuinely just her. All in all, the center console is a good representation of love she’s had over the years—new friends and old. The only tape not in the car being one from Barb, dusty and lingering in a box of trinkets shoved far and deep into her bottom dresser drawer.

Barb is still honored among her things. Some of her clothes. There’s a pair of lenses she left, that Nancy has since fitted for her own reading glasses—ones that she wears when marking in loopy cursive in the same type of journal she always saw Barb writing in. It’s the principal of moving on, she thinks. Not quite leaving all of Barb behind, but honoring her in the small ways that matter—and in that, it’s forming new friendships while repairing ones formerly broken. To be loved; to be remembered; to be taken care of, even if it’s just music in her car.

Even if it’s pulling slow to the next red light and in the corner of her eye, on the left in the steadying rain, she spots a figure on the sidewalk. Hunched in, carrying a heavy sack on their back, hair floppy into their face—a battered face. And if they didn’t cross under a streetlamp, she probably wouldn’t have recognized them. But it’s the blue Adidas on their feet that she notes. With a crank, then two, and another that threatens to jam her window into the car door—

“Steve?!” She calls out. The figure stops. Startles frantically. Whips their head around, eyes darting, mouth frowning. And then they look at her. His eyes wild and scared and hazy. Her stomach drops low. “Hey! Where’s your car?!”

The rain pelts down. Heavy and heavier as she idles at the stoplight, now green. His hands are nervous in front of him, smushing palms together, fingers tangling with one another. Then, he just shrugs. But his face does something…complicated. It twitches like he’s thinking. It frowns like he knows she won’t like the answer. And so he settles for absence, like she’d ever think he’s actually stupid.

“Why don’t you get in mine, Steve?!” she shouts over the heavy rain, “I can take you where you need to go! You’re gonna get sick and we know how Robs is going to react to that!”

It’s the mention of Robin that makes him move. Slow and hesitant, hefting the straps of his backpack on his shoulders. Sluggish in a way that worries her—a reminder of concussions, of blood soaked shirt scraps, and the inevitable infection that had come in the aftermath. She thinks he looks—not exactly cowardly, but something so timid that it’s child-like. Small and shaky.

The passenger door opens with a soft click. And he climbs in, shoe making a gentle squish to the floor of the car, and the subtle squeak of his drenched clothes on the leather seat. His sack goes to the footwell, overflowing and tight against the glovebox, probably heavy on the tops of his feet. He shuts the door with his right hand, but she catches a glimpse of his left where it rests on his thighs. The contours of his knuckles are shadowed with blood, dried in the creases of his skin. There’s a jagged scratch to the edge of his palm that she wonders at, if it reaches down to the underside of his hand, where it ends, if it’s still bleeding. He scrunches his fingers minutely, but quickly straightens them again, as if it hurts to move them. And she’s sure it does. She’s very sure it does.

She looks back out the windshield when he settles into the seat. The light turns yellow, then red. Green light just missed, so she’ll stall. Fiddles with the knobs on her dashboard—cranks the heat high, turns the radio completely down. Shifts the air vents on her car so that they all point at him, rather than her. And soothes at the way he closes his eyes, soaking up the heat on his obviously cold skin—goosebump riddled and lips slightly blue. Wipers forced to their max capacity, fast and squeaking.

“So…where are you heading, Steve?” And she looks back, not head-on. Tilts her head, looks sideways and almost down her nose at him.

He shrugs, eyes still closed. Even though they’re hidden from her, she can tell he’s forlorn. Tight wrinkles between his brows. A frown still sitting stubborn. “I don’t know,” he breathes.

Nancy nods. Taps her fingers on the steering wheel. “Can I ask about…about the face?” she wonders quietly.

The way his jaw tightens, she thinks there won’t be an answer. His throat works, muscles strained, veins protruding, Adam’s apple tired. But then, his lower lip wobbles and his eyes peel open half-lidded, and he’s looking out the passenger window. Even through the rain on the glass, she can see the tears he must’ve been trying to recede. Fast and plenty, some tinted pink from the bit of blood still caked around his eye, the others crystal clear and showcasing the rapid flush of his ruddying cheeks. “Not yet,” he whispers, “can we just drive for a little bit?”

Instead of pushing, like she wants to do, she just looks at the road—light finally green—and goes under the speed limit. Empty streets, still slick asphalt, she’ll oblige. “Anywhere in mind or do you want to just go sightseeing?”

He snorts wet and snotty. “You still have that constellation book in your center console?”

“Hey,” she scolds, mock-offended, “I told you that in confidence!”

His head thunks against the side of the door, hair rustling as he looks to her. She feels his eyes on him, but won’t look over again just yet. “There’s no one else around,” he murmurs, “and besides, I was kidding. I don’t know where I wanna go.” Steve sighs heavily. “Don’t know if my face is very welcoming right now anyway.”

She clicks her tongue. “Yeah,” she reluctantly agrees, “think the…the blood and stuff would put people off.” Her hands tighten on the steering wheel. Hesitantly, she broaches the next subject, “Taking walks at night with what seems like a load of hiking gear. Did you take on a new exercise plan or something?”

“Nope,” he answers quietly—he’s been weirdly quiet the whole time—“just seeing where my feet would take me, I guess. Out of town or…wherever.”

“Out of town,” she repeats slowly. “And your car wasn’t good for that?”

He shrugs. “Dad told me I couldn’t have it, since he tossed me out. Not like I can do anything about that, it’s in his name.” Then, at that, he inhales sharply through his nose, eyes wide—wider than she’s ever seen them. Catching up all at once to what he said. “I didn’t—You didn’t hear—Forget that I”—

“Did he do that to you?” She asks, teeth gritted. Chest tight.

“My dad? My dad’s an asshole.” She remembers all the times he’d say that. Brushing over the shit he’d been thrown. Trying to convince her to not meet his parents.

He doesn’t answer now.

“Steve, if he did this, you can press charges. You can…We can tell Hop”—

“And get everyone else involved? No thanks.”

Reluctantly, Nancy finds a spot on the curb that’s completely empty, and pulls over to it. He begins to reach down into the footwell, scrambling for his bag, panicked in all his gestures. She stops him with a soft hand on his forearm. He freezes, but doesn’t look over.

“Steve,” she whispers, “what were you going to do tonight? Where were you going to go? If…if your dad is after you or something, we can stow you in my basement, I can—I’ll get Jonathan to remove the stick in his ass for a night so you can”—

“I was going to skip town, okay?” He forces himself to speak, mangled and garbled as it is. “See if I could find a passing car outside of the limits, hitch a ride, maybe end up somewhere else. That’s what I was going to do. I don’t wanna…nobody else needs to know about all of this. I don’t want anybody else to get involved. This is between my dad and I, alright?” Finally, he looks up from the footwell. Still hunched over. Hands still shaking and gripping to the backpack straps. Tears streaming down his face again.

She makes a decision, stubborn as he is, and turns on the overhead light.

In the sickly yellow glow of the car’s light, she can see all the damage done to him. There’s a cut on his right cheekbone most likely formed from a wedding ring. Dark, plum bruising around his left eye. Swollen face, blood caked around his nostrils—hopefully not broken. A cut on his lip. Another cut on his hairline. There’s bruising on his neck, in the shape of fingertips. And when she looks down his arm, past the curled edge of his t-shirt sleeve, there’s bruising there, too.

“I should shoot your dad in the fucking face,” she finally says. “Why’d he do this to you? If anything, you’ve been out of his hair for years now. He has no reason to go after you. No fucking reason at”—

“It’s because I’m a queer, Nance,” Steve spits. Not venomous, something humiliated and heated. “Okay? I’m a fucking queer. I’m dating—Eddie and I are dating. Wayne should’ve been the only one to know, but somehow my dad found out. Went snooping in my room or…or maybe one of my neighbors saw Eddie leaving my house looking a little more rumpled than he arrived. But that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I’m a queer and my dad doesn’t like that.

“And if you’ll excuse me, I think I should get back on the road and get the fuck out of here before my dad can come cruising around, find me, and do me in worse than Vecna could’ve ever.” He rips his arm out from under Nancy’s palm. Struggles with hefting the backpack onto his lap. And reaches for the door handle.

Yet, he still stops himself when Nancy pulls him back in. Forces him back into his seat. Keeps sat and still.

He looks back to her, understandably upset.

She takes pause. Looks back and forth at his wet eyes—one half-shut, forced by the swelling of his face. Her hands are on his biceps, sat where those bruises are, and all she does is stroke her palms up and down. Soothing. “That’s okay, Steve,” she murmurs, “I don’t care that you’re queer. That you’re gay or—or something else. I care that you’re safe.”

“I’m not safe here in town,” he retorts, voice shaking.

Her hands move to his forearms. Where his skin is still cold. “You don’t even have a jacket on. You don’t…you don’t know who’s going to pick you up. What that person could be like. I can’t just let you step out of my car and walk back down the road.” In front of her, he begins to crumble all over again. Realizing, all too fast and all too much, that she’s unfortunately right. “Can I take you somewhere else? Maybe to Eddie’s? If you don’t want to explain all of this again to somebody like Hopper or my dad or even Robin, then at least talk it though with somebody who’d fully understand the severity.

“I can clean you up with my first aid kit. But I’m not letting you walk out of everybody’s lives. Even if I know you aren’t, you have no guarantee the next time you’d be able to reassure the people who care about you.” She squeezes his arms. Lightly, so gentle it could’ve been nothing. And when his tears come fast again, she holds his face between her palms. At least his face is warm, she thinks, and at least he isn’t fighting me.

Steve sniffles. Doesn’t and won’t make direct eye contact with Nancy. Forlorn, again, to the tip of his nose. “You won’t tell anybody else?” He asks, small, timidly.

“No,” she merely whispers, “it’s not my business. And I shouldn’t have forced it out of you. For that, I’m sorry. I just…I’ve seen you too close to death too many times. I’m not letting it get you because you think you’d be better off with strangers, with people who don’t care about you the way we do.” She strokes her thumb at a spot of crusted blood on his right cheek. Where it had burbled out of the cut. “If I hadn’t found you, would you have ever told anybody where you went? Would you have told Robin? Eddie?”

He sighs through his nose. Closes his eyes again. Swallows hard and shakes his head softly. “I don’t have enough cash for a payphone, so I guess I wouldn’t.”

“Right,” Nancy murmurs, “let me clean you up, okay? I’ll take you home, to Eddie’s. And maybe…one of these days, y’know, we can figure out a plan. A pact. Get all of us out of this shithole.”

“Shithole,” Steve echoes. Snorts. “Never heard you say that before.”

She grins, even though he can’t see it. “Blame Mike for that one. He’s uh…he’s creative, that’s all I’ll say.”

The clean up doesn’t take long. Some rubbing alcohol on fast food napkins. A tube of Neosporin. Band-aids. All done in relevant silence. With his head still in her hands, his throat working over and over as he can’t pinch his nose to prevent more tears. His hands slowly warmed in her grip as she wraps a bandage over the nasty cut on his palm. Where that particular injury came from, she doesn’t know, but knows better than to ask.

And in the drive over, they make the same small talk. About plans for college—for Emerson. Of Family Video, customers, minimum wage. She jokes that Eddie’s got her hair. And he just laughs, full from his belly and gravelly the way it always had been—even tells her that Eddie made a comment along the same lines.

When he disappears inside of the Munson’s trailer, she feels relieved, not satiated, but soothed. And when Eddie comes out, pajamas and all, wraps his lanky arms around her torso, pulls her in fast and hard, drops a kiss to her head of curls—she knows that Steve is in good hands.

“Wheeler, you’re a fucking hero,” Eddie remarks.

“I wasn’t just going to let him be miserable.”

“Seriously, Nancy, you’re my fucking hero. I don’t know where he’d be without you.”

Somewhere else, she thinks, somewhere else without us. Bruised and scared and small.

“Don’t think about it,” she says, “get him better though, please.”

“Will do, Nance. Get home safe?” Eddie breathes, arms still tucked around her body securely. He’s scared, she can tell, but half-relieved all the same.

“I always do.”

🫂——————🫂

#stranger things #platonic stancy #steddie #minor steddie #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #eddie munson #angst and hurt/comfort #cw abuse #cw blood

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swamiiyasssss · 10 months ago

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Dragonfly In Red

Jason Todd + Vigilante!OfficeSiren!Reader

This Hood would never have thought he'd fell in love with a goddamn suit. Tall, dark and gorgeous, she was the wildest of his dreams. A dragonfly amongst the birds, the bats, standing out too much for his own liking.

The suit's got secrets; He intends to take it all for his own.

Dragonfly In Red by yasswami Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Batman: Arkham (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Jason Todd/Reader, Jason Todd/Original Female Character(s), Jason Todd/Original Character(s), minor Luke Fox/Reader Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Titus | Damian Wayne's Dog, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Stephanie Brown, Joker (DCU), Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Lucius Fox, Luke Fox, Arkham Asylum Inmates, Arkham Asylum Staff (DCU), Riddler (Batman 1966), Jim Gordon Additional Tags: Slow To Update, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Episode: s01e09 Enemies and Lovers, Lazy Sex, Hate Sex, NSFW, Smut, Angst, Heavy Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Vigilantism, Vigilante Reader, Blood and Violence, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Blood and Injury, Blood Kink, Blood As Lube, Recreational Drug Use, Bondage and Discipline, Chair Bondage, Non-Sexual Bondage, Body Horror, Body Worship, Corporate core, Office Sex, Police Officer Dick Grayson, Restraints, Angry Sex, Angry Kissing, Fake Character Death, Survivor Guilt, Power Imbalance, Power Play, Office SIREN reader, suits & bandages, whump, can u notice i got a thing for blood aha

Jason bares his teeth. “ I find a dragonfly, ensnared in my trap.”

Red Hood/You. Dark & Explicit Themes. Mind the Tags.

#jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x oc #dc universe #fanfiction #moodboard #aesthetic #yasswami

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chaoticbooklesbian · 6 days ago

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Chapters: 3/6 Chapter Title: 3 - The Case of the Precarious Machine Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage Sex Relationships: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Crystal Palace & Charles Rowland (DCU), Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Niko Sasaki, Crystal Palace/Niko Sasaki Characters: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland (DCU), Crystal Palace (DCU), Niko Sasaki, Night Nurse (DCU), Kingham and Litty | The Dandelion Sprites Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, 5+1 Things, Whump, Touch-Starved Charles Rowland (DCU), Past Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Self-Harm, Kind Of, Poisoning, Minor Injuries, Serious Injuries, Case Fic, Niko Sasaki Lives, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Electrocution, Burns, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne Loves Charles Rowland, Charles Rowland Loves Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Sub Charles Rowland (DCU), Top Charles Rowland (DCU), Dom Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Bottom Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, sub top, Dom bottom, Rope Bondage, Dom/sub, Anal Sex, Gentle Sex, Aftercare, Praise Kink, Charles Rowland Has a Praise Kink (DCU), Charles Rowland's government mandated praise kink, charles rowland whump Chapter Summary: A sorcerer requests the agency's help with a machine his teacher built, and Charles tries to emulate Edwin, at least a little bit.

#pedanticblah #dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives netflix #dead boy detectives fanfiction #edwin payne #charles rowland #charles x edwin #edwin x charles #payneland #the 5+1 of doom

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ao3feed-brucewayne · 3 months ago

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Erstwhile (Bruce Wayne's Teenage Years)

by Forget_Me_Snowdrop “What do you mean Bs been ‘de-aged’?!” Tim’s voice chimed in his ear. “I mean he was here and now there’s an unconscious kid in his place!” The resemblance Bruce had to Damian trying on the batsuit was bordering on uncanny and it set confirmation in Dick’s mind that he had been correct with his assumption this was some sort of de-age situation. Or; While on patrol, Bruce got de-aged to his teenage self that had yet found the outlet which is Batman. It's up to his kids to get him back to his actual age; not without learning that the Bruce they know is so far different from the young Bruce they're with. Words: 2273, Chapters: 1/6, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Gen Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake (DCU), Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Duke Thomas, Cassandra Cain, Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown Relationships: Batfamily Members & Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Everyone Additional Tags: De-Aged Bruce Wayne, Age Regression/De-Aging, Hurt Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Background Case, Not Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autistic Bruce Wayne, Teen Bruce Wayne, Young Bruce Wayne, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Jason Todd is a Batfamily Member, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Bruce Wayne Acts Like a Sad Wet Cat, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, not beta read we die like Thomas and Martha Wayne, Emo Bruce Wayne, but not battinson, Batfamily (DCU), Metahuman Duke Thomas, Depressed Bruce Wayne, not every batfam member lives in the manor, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Injuries, Bruce Wayne Whump, POV Third Person via https://ift.tt/LquTZ7n

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the dark knight #the caped crusader #gotham #dcu #dc #ao3 #ao3feed

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inevitably-johnlocked · 6 months ago

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stephy bephy baby baby girl, um

any list noone asked for yet but you have?

ASFSADF I LOVE when y'all use silly names for me!

You KNOW I do!! Here's today's that been in my drafts for a few months! Enjoy!!

Please note that because so many of these fics are from my old lists, they will be FFNet links, so if you have them on AO3, let me know, but otherwise let me know if any links don't work.

POV SHERLOCK 3rd PERSON Pt. 4: ANGST / ANGSTY FLUFF or BAMF FICS Pt. 2

See also:

POV Sherlock 1st & 2nd Person

POV Sherlock 3rd Person Pt. 1: Fluff

POV Sherlock 3rd Person Pt 2: Hurt/Comfort & Whump

POV Sherlock 3rd Person Pt 3: Angst/Angsty Fluff or BAMF Fics

Voices by fizzingweaselbee (T, 607 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Mental Turmoil, Suicidal Ideations) – "We would never do that to John Watson."

The Hollow Man by HHarris (G, 639 w., 1 Ch. || John’s Chair, Introspection, Sherlock’s Big Feelings™, Post TRF, Angst, Emotional Turmoil, POV Sherlock, Pining / Sad Sherlock) – Still reeling from the apparent loss of his one and only friend, Sherlock returns to 221B for the first time after the events of The Reichenbach Fall.

Once Upon A Time by ProfessorSquirrell (T, 908 w., 1 Ch. || Family, Snippets of Life, Romance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Implied Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending) – There is a room in Sherlock's mind palace where nothing gets deleted. And it looks like this...

Bands by dragonQuill907 (T, 1,017 w., 1 Ch. || Established Relationship, POV Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock) – “Her wedding ring. Ten years old at least. The rest of her jewelry has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. State of her marriage right there. The inside of the ring is shinier than the outside – that means it’s regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger.”

The Other Shoe by thewaitwasworthitlove (NR, 1,053 w., 1 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Angst, URT, Post-TSo3) - Sherlock realizes how deep in love he has fallen for John. Only Sherlock Holmes would manage to be more shattered than crystal dropped on concrete.

The Signs of Loss by LitLocked (NR, 1,103 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TSo3, Pining Sherlock, Self Reflection, Implied Drug Use, Angst, Hard Pining, Hurts Like Hell) – Sherlock's internal monologue after he comes back from the wedding.

Ode to a Well-Worn Chair by hogwartswitch (G, 1,274 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TSo3, John’s Chair, Angst, Love Confessions, Mind Palace) – Takes place the night Sherlock left John's wedding early. Why did he move John's chair and where did he move it?

Left In The Ashes by zoltargirl (T, 1,497 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, MCD, Angry Sherlock, Brutal Violence) – Rage is a unique quality in all human beings. In Sherlock Holmes, it's terrifying.

The Two of Us Against the World by slashscribe (T, 1,617 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TAB, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Anxious Sherlock, Angsty Fluff) – John is there to take care of Sherlock as he comes down from his overdose in The Abominable Bride. Set immediately after the tarmac, back in 221B.

Giveaway Fic #9 - Angsty Sick Fic/Sherlock is Sick by ConsultingPurplePants (T, 1,734 w., 1 Ch. || Sick Fic, Hypothermia) – The next time he awakens is even more chaotic. Two doctors are shouting at each other in the corner, and John is holding his hand so tightly Sherlock is worried he’ll break it. Part 9 of 1000 Tumblr Followers Giveaway Fics

BBCSH 'Poor Mary' by tigersilver (M, 1,839 w., 1 Ch. || HLV Fic, Canon Compliant, Sherlock Whump / Mary Shot Sherlock, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Missing Scene, Sherlock POV) – As the tin says above, this is a missing scene, set directly after Sherlock awakens in hospital after having been shot by his best mate's wife. Minor angst, some pining, nothing nasty; please don't be alarmed unduly.

Dying Changes Everything by whitchry9 (K+, 1,919 w., 1 Ch || Sherlock POV, Suicidal Ideation, Near-Death, Hospital, Sherlock Whump, Gunshot, Unhappy/Ambiguous Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship) – Sherlock is having an existential crisis and wants to have a near death experience like John did to gain some perspective. “Shoot me John!” he insisted, gesturing to himself. John just looked at him. “Are you completely mad?”

L'Esprit D'Escalier by TheSoulOfAStrawberry (K, 2,011 w., 1 Ch. || Ace Sherlock, Romance, Hurt / Comfort, Pining) – A lack of understanding leads to a misunderstanding, which in turn leads to two confused men dealing with something they should have sorted out earlier, rather than on John's wedding day.

Stay by sussexbound (M, 2,067 w., 1 Ch. || Post TAB, Suicidal Ideation Mention, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Kissing, Love Confessions, Frottage, Coming in Pants) – “Why? Why did you do it? Hmm…?” He takes a deep breath, waits, lets it out again. “Look at me.” There’s no denying him when he takes this tone. “Why did you kill him? Hmm…? For her? After…” A muscle twitches in the corner of John’s eye, and he clamps his jaw down tightly, swallows and sniffs a little before continuing. “For her? After everything she’s done?” “For you.” Before he can even stop himself. Just like that.

The Deafening Silence by occasionally-maybe-never (T, 2,238 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Major Character Death, Post-TRF) – 'Sherlock hopes fiercely that John can hear him, as sometimes coma patients can. He knows that John will understand, that his admission of love isn't a grand, sweeping romantic statement, but simply an expression of truth.' When Mycroft retrieves Sherlock to bring him home, it's not to John having dinner, but to John on his death bed.

BBCSH 'How To Save A Life' by tigersilver (T, 2,784 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Angsty Schmoop, Requited Love) – Pining, requited, and unabated spates of 'first kiss' fluff. Post Mary, AU, mildly cracky. John lays a smooch on Sherlock's nape in passing. The world does that thing it does when it wobbles and Sherlock practically falls off his own pins. Part 1 of 'How To...'

In My Life (and dreams, you take my breath away) by Nina36 (NR, 2,847 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF/TEH, Angst, Pining Sherlock) – The first time he had dreamt about John he had been in Peru. He had been “dead” a little over a month, squatting in a tiny rented room, the heat and the stains on the walls making him slightly claustrophobic. It had been a nice dream: John and he eating take away Chinese in their kitchen, a song coming from Mrs. Hudson’s radio downstairs, something about friends and lovers and how no one compared with him, his mind supplied in his dream.

Museums and Laboratories by RhododendronPonticum (T, 3,004 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Angst, Obsessive Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, Anxiety/Panic Attack, Separation Anxiety, Doctor John, Co-Dependent Sherlock) – If Sherlock's kitchen was his laboratory, then his bedroom was his museum.

It Wasn't Just the Mistletoe by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 3,593 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas Fluff, Mistletoe, First Kiss / Time, Frottage, Masturbation, Come as Lube) – Sherlock and John just stood there, seemingly frozen. Sherlock was desperately trying to think of a way out of this. There was no way he could kiss John, even a small kiss, and not have him know immediately how he felt. Sherlock could lie, and fake and sham, but there was no way he could hide this.

Anticlockwise (Ask Time) by TheBookshelfDweller (G, 3,752 w., 1 Ch. || Metaphorical, Angst, Time, Unhappy Ending) – "Let me tell you the truth: Sherlock Holmes cannot beat Time." Time only flows in one direction, and we are stranded in it, carried by currents we mostly never notice are whirling around us. No one can walk backwards along the timeline, and maybe that’s for the best, because what if someone could? Where would they go? Or, better say, to when would they go? Most importantly who would they leave behind (or is it ahead)? In the end, despite the truth, Sherlock Holmes decides to fight Time, for John, for himself - for himself with John.

Bolt Holes by PostcardsfromTheoryland (T, 4,177 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt / Comfort, Angst, Drug Mentions, Pining Sherlock) – John asked, one evening, if Sherlock liked her. To which he grudgingly had to say yes, and John said he was glad. Because John was going to propose to her.

But Tonight You Belong to Me by esplanade (T, 4,296 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff & Angst, Pining, Stag Night, Sad Ending) – “You. It's always you. John Watson, you keep me right.”

In Good Hands by Haelia (K+, 4,384 w., 1 Ch. || Adventure, Hurt/Comfort, John Whump) – John and Sherlock are stranded deep in the wilderness with no phones and no foreseeable escape. With John wounded, Sherlock fears they will die here: in the cold, in the damp, in the woods.

London's Ghost by JustlikeWater (K+, 5,642 w., 1 Ch. || Tragedy, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Post-TRF AU, Sherlock POV) – "Today, it's been weeks since Sherlock died. Other times, years. He doesn't know for sure, though. Time passes differently for the dead"

Recovery by thesignsofserbia (T, 5,948 w., 1 Ch. || HLV-Fix It / Rewrite, Villain Mary, Pining Sherlock, Major Character Injury, Scars, Self-Hatred, POV Sherlock, Doctor John, Friends to Lovers) – Set after the confrontation with Mary, and Sherlock's cardiac arrest, John stays at 221B to aid Sherlock's recovery, forcing them to confront wounds both old and new as they try to heal their damaged relationship.

I'll Be Fine by whitchry9 (T, 6,473 w., 21 Ch. || Hurt / Comfort, John Whump, Friendship, MCD, Heavy Angst) – John says he'll be fine, and Sherlock believes him. Until he can't any more. And it's awfully hard to forgive John for lying about something big like that, even if he didn't mean to. Not using warnings because spoilers, but there are some.

The Death of Doubt by Gingerhermit (E, 6,584 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate Canon, BAMF John, POV Sherlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Drama, Meddling Mycroft) – Mycroft asks for John’s help in rescuing Sherlock from his Serbian captors.

Not Alone by taliapaxton (K+, 7,034 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Friendship, MCD, Euthanasia) – Alone on the Water from Sherlock's point of view. Inspired by the wonderful fiction, "Alone on the Water"

Until I See the Sun by Vintage Tea Party (T, 8,194 w., 3 Ch. || Nightmares, Mild Whump, Friendship, Mild Violence, Angst) – After a particularly dangerous case, John suffers from night terrors. Will Sherlock be able to comfort him? Will he be able to find out what is really troubling John?

Made for You by Raxicoricofallapatorious (K, 8,440 w., 1 Ch. || Android AU || Friendship, Sci-Fi, Sherlock Called Freak) – When John was shot in the shoulder he was decommissioned and his memory and personality was wiped. Sherlock was given the blank droid and he quickly learns that this droid is more than it seems. John just so happened to come back and no one can fathom how or why. Johnlock if you squint.

The Haunting of 221B Baker Street by earlgreytea68 (M, 10,388 w., 2 Ch. || Ghost AU || Post TRF, Halloween / Ghosts, Pining Sherlock, Ghost Sherlock, Stroppy Sherlock, Sherlock POV, First Kiss/Time, Angry Sex, Ghost Sex, Love Confessions, Open / Ambiguous Ending) – In which Sherlock Holmes is a ghost.

Johnlock Ficlet Collection by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 11,505+ w. [WiP] || Random Ficlets, Pining, Angst, Fluff & Smut, Parentlock, AU’s, First Kiss, Character POV’s) - Just a collection of Johnlock ficlets, originally posted on my Tumblr page.

A Building of Bridges by Unique (K, 12,325 w. , 3 Ch. || Drama, Alternate First Meeting, John’s PTSD / Flashbacks, Mute John, Dialogue-Heavy, Caring Sherlock, Friendship) – No one would ever send Sherlock in to diffuse a stand-off; but on one unlikely day, that's exactly what happened. "Congratulations, Lestrade," he called out sarcastically. "You're traumatizing a war veteran."

The Nutcracker by Odamaki (T, 13,758 w., 7 Ch. || Nutcracker AU || Christmas, Dark Magic, Dolls) – Sherlock is unimpressed with Uncle Rudy's present. A doll? What does he want with a doll?

The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.

Let's Make a Bed Out in the Rain by theimprobable1 (M, 17,664 w., 11 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Angst & Fluff, First Kiss, Unrequited, Jealous Sherlock, Protective Sherlock) – John is devastated after his long-term girlfriend leaves him. Sherlock helps him through it.

A Shipless Ocean by myswordfishmind (M, 22,135 w., 4 Ch. || Post-TRF, John has a Kid, Angst, Reunion, Falling in Love, Open Ending) – Ten years after the fall Sherlock goes back to London to find that John no longer lives there. Instead, he resides in a seaside town, a widower, and the father of a seven year old son. Now, Sherlock must struggle with the fact that there may no longer be a place for him in this new world.

A Quiet Life by DiscordantWords (M, 25,176 w., 6 Ch. || Post S4, Retirement, POV Sherlock, Awkwardness, Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Minor Character Death, Questionable Parenting Choices, Non-Linear Narrative, 20 Year Old Rosie, Meddling Mycroft, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Angst, Sherlock Whump) – There had been three days of silence and a funeral. Sherlock had the terrible feeling that whatever happened next would depend, entirely, on him.

The Wisteria Tree by SilentAuror (E, 29,773 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Emotional Love Making, Amnesia/Memory Loss, Sherlock Loves John So Much, Sherlock POV, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Est. Rel., Retirement) – Sherlock wakes up from a month-long coma only to discover that he has no memory of the previous six years to his own shock as well as John's...

The Winter Garden by Callie4180 (T, 31,213 w., 13 Ch. || Post-S4, Retirement, Christmas, Slow Burn, Grown-Up Rosie, Parenthood, Rosie’s Cat, Angst with Happy Ending, Holidays, Beekeeping, Magical Realism, Sherlock POV, Sherlock’s Violin, Future Fic, Sussex, Honey, Magical Healing Honey, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Scar, First Kiss, Touching) – As Sherlock nears the end of his career, he's given the gift of a cottage in Sussex. The honey from the beehives out back is amazing. Almost...magical.

The Unfinished Letters by SilentAuror (E, 37,391 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3 / S3 / HLV Fix it, Angst with Happy Ending, Romance, Infidelity, Depression, Case Fic, POV Third Person Sherlock, Love Confessions, Pining Sherlock, Letters) – A fire at Baker Street leads John to read something he was never intended to see: a notebook of half-written, unfinished letters Sherlock wrote during his time away...

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea by DiscordantWords (M, 39,968 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It || Grief / Mourning, Victor Trevor, Friendship, Sherlock is Not Okay, Nightmares/Flashbacks/Panic Attacks, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John Comes Home) – Baker Street is very much the same. Only different. And Sherlock is just trying not to drown.

A Goose Quill Dipped in Venom by Polyphony (M, 52,748 w., 16 Ch. || Celebrity John AU || Alternate First Meeting, TV Host John, Supermodel Mary, Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Case Fic, First Kiss/Time, Meddling Mycroft, Drug Abuse, Doctor John, PDA, Deductions, POV Sherlock, Toplock, Sexual Tension, Angry/Rough Sex, Hopeful Ending, Asperger’s Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, is called in to a very ordinary although brutal murder. Something is badly out of tune with the whole scenario and Sherlock finds himself becoming more and more obsessed with the crime - and also with the victim.

You Have Drawn Red From My Hands by J_Baillier (T, 67,085 w., 17 Ch. || Three Garridebs, Heavy John Whump, Hurt / Comfort, Pining, Heavy Angst, Case Fic/Adventure, Slow Burn, Sick Fic, Injury, Guilt & Depression, Just Talk Already Please, Medical Realism, PTSD) – John getting injured leads Sherlock on a path of guilt and revelations.

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

Bakers with Benefits by Raina_at (E, 88,130 w., 14 Ch. || Great British Bake Off AU || Strangers to Lovers, Switchlock, Friends with Benefits, Mentions of Alcoholism / Past Drug Use, Banter, Flirting, Fluff, Light Angst, Semi-Public Sex, Past Sherlock/Victor, Mutual Pining, POV Sherlock, Obsessive Sherlock, John’s Bum) – Sherlock Holmes has a successful YouTube baking channel, but what he really wants is his own bakery. When an old friend sends him a call for the very first Great British Bake Off, he seizes the opportunity to finally win a sponsor for his bakery. Here's the plan: Win Bake Off, get the bakery, don't fall in love with the handsome Army doctor at the neighbouring station. Easy.

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, POV Sherlock, Flashbacks, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock’s Past, Awkward Conversations, Anxious Sherlock) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w., 12 of ? Ch. || Dev. Rel., Pining, Fluff and Romance, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Cuddles, Girl’s Night, Texting, Virgin Sherlock, Drunk Sherlock, Background Mollstrade, Hair Petting, Laying on Lap) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}

Breakable by MissDavis (E, 117,627 w., 34 Ch. || Established Relationship, Major Character Injury, Fluff/Angst, Depression, Paralysis/Disabilities, Hurt/Comfort, POV Sherlock, Mental Health Issues, Drug Use, Happy-ish Ending) – After John is seriously injured, Sherlock struggles to figure out how to help him, keep himself sane, and maybe, just maybe, get their life back to the way it's supposed to be. Part 1 of Breakable Not Broken

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #pov sherlock fics #angst fics #bamf sherlock fics #angsty fluff fics

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deluxewhump · 3 months ago

Text

Carlo’s Letters: Suzerain (unsent)

(from a collection of letters in Carlo’s handwriting. This one has no addressee or formal greeting, but the intended recipient is easily inferred)

CW: slave/pet whump, at times ambiguous master/pet relationship, Carlo is 20 writing this but referencing a time he was a minor (17), hand feeding, mention of violence and acid burning in the context of a movie, sexually charged looks in public from men, overall a reflective and tame piece)

April

Someone mentioned the tax season deadline and it brought up a memory I have of you, in that funny, mostly unrelated way memories have of coming up. Years ago, I think I was seventeen, we were trying to re-enter the country after a short trip. Something had gone wrong with our tickets. They were flagged, and we had to visit the consulate before flying.

The girl at the counter had hair the color of fake buttercups in a ponytail tied with a navy ribbon. She looked like an old-timey stewardess I’d seen in magazine illustrations. She said you had to pay a new fee to bring back a pet. No, not a new pet, just any pet. A one-time re-entry fee for those traveling internationally with their pets. You checked the time on your watch and asked when this came about. I got a chill from the subdued, civil curiosity you possess that makes people more nervous than a raised voice. The girl winced when she said last week, like she’d been getting pushback on it since then.

I glanced from her face to yours. The set of your mouth is easier to read than your eyes sometimes, especially when you’re talking to strangers. My eyes drifted down the pressed lines of your sleeve, the neat black lines of the coat folded over your arm. She turned her screen toward you, the policy pulled up and ready. I noticed the official US seal on the top, that sharp eyed, pitiless eagle and borders of navy blue. Knowing this was about me made me lightheaded, and I ran my pinky along the scratchy fabric of your coat like I could tether myself to you that way, focusing on the friction of fabric and skin. I took a deep breath slowly, so no one would notice.

You read her screen and hummed in amusement. The girl laughed nervously with you, unsure if you were about to give her a hard time. But you just paid the fee for my re-entry, and we went back to the taxi and rode to the airport. It was four thousand dollars. My stomach churned at the number.

The security checkpoint was busy. I stayed close to you amidst the throngs of people winding through the stanchions. They had dogs out today, and made us walk past them two by two. An agent with a belt full of gear and black boots made eye contact with me. His eyes were a transparent blue. I looked at the dog instead, its tail wagging softly and his head bent low, sniffing for contraband, thrilled to serve its master.

With two hours until our flight we sat in a dimly lit restaurant booth, all dark wood and polished brass rails at the bar that gave the impression we had stepped out of the sterile, white halls of the airport into another decade. The wall behind the bartender was mirrored. I watched us in the reflection as you ordered two waters and a caprese salad. I said I wasn’t hungry, though when the server brought your penne primavera it smelled so good I had a brief pang of regret.

I drank the water you ordered for me, imagining it cooling me from the inside out and bringing back my equilibrium. How many Italian dinners would four thousand dollars buy? Why did you have to pay such a jaw-dropping fee to bring your own property back into your own home country?

You ate at a pace slower than leisurely and ordered dessert, which was unlike you. I realized it was for me when you scooped the first bite of chocolate mousse cake on a fresh fork and put it in front of my mouth. I must’ve looked miserable because you pulled it away.

“What?” you said gently.

“Why was it so much?”

“Why was what so much, angel?” There was no warning in your tone. Only patience.

“To bring me back?”

You sighed through your nose, finished your demitasse of espresso. “That was a King’s ransom, wasn't it? Just a clever way to drum up some extra revenue. They know most of us won't leave our pets at a consulate over four grand. Well. Some will."

"Can you get it back?"

"I need you to stop wringing your hands over a luxury tax, Carlo." You sounded amused now, which was better than annoyed but not a distant land to it, either. "What did you bring to read on the plane?"

"The Idiot?"

"That won't help,” you said.

I didn't know what you meant by that, but I was alright with being in the dark, or the butt of a joke, if gave you a moment of genuine pleasure. "...It just seems unfair," I shrugged.

You lowered your voice. “It’s got nothing to do with you, sweetheart. It’s no matter. I’d have paid whatever I needed to. It’s a mosquito bite.”

I dropped my eyes. You’d gone out of your way to reassure me, and it had made my face warm. Back then, if I could have changed anything about myself, it would have been the way I blush so easily, making every emotion visible and ten times more humiliating. You offered the fork again and I leaned forward to take the bite of rich, sweet cake. It was good. I was hungry. I wanted another bite. But I’d sit there with my mouth watering for another five minutes while you took a phone call rather than reach for something I hadn’t been handed.

My attention slid off to a woman who’d dropped her purse in her rush to her terminal. Her phone skittered all the way to the drinking fountain by the wall like a rock skipped on water. It seemed to me the real world was inside the restaurant, its fresh bread smells and dark polished wood, and the ant-like rush outside in the airport was an illusion, a large TV screen.

You scooped another bite onto the fork and fed it to me with your cellphone to your ear, looking at me absently as you did. “I thought that’s what you said,” you said to whoever was on the other line. “I agree. They need to vet these guys. The new software makes it a step by step process.” You fed me yet another bite. My teeth hurt from the sweetness, but I took it. Chewed, swallowed. “There shouldn’t be any more mistakes like that. They need to be held responsible.”

You weren’t talking to me, or about me, but your matter-of-fact, stern tone made my spine tingle anyway.

I noticed a broad-shouldered black man with a close, well oiled beard watching my master hand feed me. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, had only a carry on briefcase with him. His watch and cufflinks looked expensive. His leather shoes gleamed. He saw me return his gaze and looked away with profound disinterest.

Strange men in public often had that reaction. Either that, or they would smile at me. It was almost always men. Women sometimes looked, but I couldn’t read their intent as easily. The men who grinned and leered always felt like a violation. I knew most would be a hot breath on my neck and the smell of some grotesque cologne, but at least they were displaying interest. I knew they could not actually touch me. Being an object of envy or desire still made me feel safe in those days, even if I knew the desire was destructive.

If strangers with a penchant for youngish boys would look at me with such open interest in an airport, a cafe, a crowded street, then I must possess something that has value to my master, even though he doesn’t use me in that way. Beauty alone must be enough for him, and that must be the essence of his attachment to me. It was my currency and I knew it.

Once (not with you) I saw a movie in which pets often had their faces burned with acid either as a last-ditch kind of punishment or a form of vandalism by their master’s enemies. I had bad dreams about it for months afterward. I don’t think I had ever imagined violence with any kind of permanence or real malice behind it until that moment. Why would I have?

Men like this one, who looked away as if even curiosity about me was beneath them were harder to be sure of than ones who stared. Were they too polite for that? Were they abolitionists who imagined I’d like to be free of this man I was with? Or did they find me, my submission, my mouth on the proffered fork of man who was so clearly my master repulsive? Was it hate or indifference?

I don't receive those looks anymore. I don't look like a pet. I don't sit like one at the side man who looks like no relation to me, and like he'd own a pet. Max thinks I'm oblivious to the way girls look at me sometimes. I probably am. Sometimes when I look in the mirror I still imagine myself though your eyes. I don't cut my hair too short or let it grow too long. I wear things you taught me to like. I don't have to do any of this. Someone else might shave his head, wear things he knows you'd dislike.

Do I still not possess an ounce of rebellion when it comes to you? I'm like that dog at the airport. I don't understand emancipation or retirement. I am waiting for you to tell me to come home, or else give me permission to become someone else.

You're in prison. I imagine you like some incarcerated mob guy in the thirties, with your own dinner menu and LL Bean slippers and guys who respect a gun runner nodding at you in the yard and calling you boss. What's it really like?

If I send this, will you write me back? Would you write to Max instead, telling him to keep a better eye on my mental state because I'm writing to you in prison? That would be worse than no reply, I think. A hand-slap and a reprimand.

The possibility might keep me from sending it.

Not Yours,

Carlo Svenson

#epistolary fiction #slave whump #pet whump #hand feeding #violence mention #character who is a minor

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