#this fic was a lot longer than intended but i love it regardless

[seraphdreams]

dropping the first kinktober fic soon !!

[robinsno1lesbian]

hi! i was wondering if you could do a fic for robin? im actually deprived of hurt/comfort fics for her so maybe reader and robin go to a party tgt and r gets picked on in an uncomfortable conversation? thank you so much lovely <3

𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 & 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 ˖⋆࿐໋

-r.b. x reader

summary: robin comforts you after a homophobic incident at a party. (1.2k)

warnings: hurt/comfort, homophobia, maybe the slightest bit of internalized homophobia too, there’s one homophobic slur in this, lots of fluff & reassurance, let me know if i missed anything!!

a/n: thank you for your request anon!! i hope you like how this turned out! i’m not 100% if this is what you had in mind but it’s the first thing i thought of lmao. anyway thank you for requesting <3

the crimson red of the drink had soaked its way into the thin fabric of your top, leaving a deep mark behind.

you’re muttering curses underneath your breath as you inspect the damage that had been done in your reflection.

this was not how you imagined the evening to go when you’d pictured the graduation party. the party you’d been looking forward to for years. the party you dragged your girlfriend to, even though she despises parties.

now, with the liquid splashed all over you, you wonder if it would’ve been better for everyone involved if you had stayed at home and spent the night with robin instead.

you scoff, reaching over to grab a towel and clean yourself up a little.

mere minutes ago, things had been fine. they had been great. even robin had been having a good time. she’d been excited for you and had promised to come along and be there with you regardless of her feelings about these kind of parties.

you’d been dancing, sharing drinks and laughing. and then there’d been jason.

he’d picked on you before, had snarled slurs at you under his breath when passing by that earned him howling laughter from his friends. he’d never gone this far, though.

the two of you had been dancing together, far enough from each other to avoid suspicious glances -no matter how much you hated the pretending. it had been enough, however, to catch jason’s attention.

robin had caught him staring first, had stepped up the minute he approached you. she couldn’t stop him from emptying his drink over your shirt though, couldn’t undo his hiss of “piss off, dyke”.

you immediately felt tears burning in your eyes, his words like a dagger to your heart. the people around you had obviously heard his words. it’s not like there hadn’t been rumors about you before, but this was different. you’d been the center of everyone’s attention, humiliated by the soaked fabric of your stained shirt and the laughter that went through the crowd at the scene.

you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of crying in front of them, so you pushed through the room, away from him, away from robin calling your name.

and now you’re here.

you dry up the mess in silence, listening to the music that is still blasting through the house, its source being somewhere downstairs.

before you can dwell in the thoughts of the previous events any longer, the bathroom door is swung open with way too much force.

you look up immediately, meeting a familiar pair of eyes in the mirror.

robin.

"oh" robin says, returning your stare. "y/n”

"it's fine” you immediately tell her, looking back at your reflection. it comes out harsher than intended.

"it’s not fine" the taller girl closes the door behind her as she enters the room. "it’s not fine at all"

she shifts awkwardly, her gaze wandering from her own reflection, then back to yours.

"are you alright?" she whispers.

your eyes burn. you’re cold. the stain won’t fade. you’re not alright. and regardless of the fact that you don’t want to break in front of your girlfriend, your shoulders are trembling before you even know it.

“oh baby” immediately, robin is by your side and wraps her arms around your body from behind. “oh baby, baby, baby, baby”

she soothes you in that raspy voice you love so dearly.

“don’t cry” robin whispers. “or do. whatever you need. i’m right here with you okay? i’m here”

your body shakes with the force of your sobs, and not even her hands on your shoulders manage to soothe you yet.

“it’s not fair” you manage. “it’s not fair”

“i know” she murmurs against your temple. “i know it’s not baby”

you try to get your breathing back under control, your vision blurry from the tears you’ve cried.

“i just wanna love you” you tell her. “what’s wrong with that?”

“love” she coos, gently loosening her grip on you, if just to spin you around and cup your face. her own eyes seem glossed over. “there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this okay? nothing”

“it’s not that i feel like there is” you go on. “but people like jason- people like him- they-“

“there will always be people like jason and i hate that. i hate that there are people who wanna see you hurting for who you are. people who wanna see anyone hurting, really”

robin kisses your forehead once more.

“but it’ll be easier, okay? we’ll get out here and it’ll be easier and then, as we get older, it’ll get easier too”

“we’ll get out of here?” you croak and look up at her. your mascara has stained your cheeks by now and your eyes are swollen. robin still looks down at you as if you’re the most precious thing she has ever laid her eyes on.

“yeah” she promises. “yeah we’ll get out of here and- and we’ll go to rome. or to paris. anywhere! operation croissant, remember? we’ll go somewhere where nobody knows who we are. and then i can love you just a little bit louder”

you huff against her shoulder.

“see?” robin smiles proudly. “you’re smiling again. that’s good! that’s go- hey! no don’t stop now“

her index fingers poke your cheeks, trying to get you to smile again. „put it back“

„okay, okay“ you chuckle wetly.

robin’s expression softens and she brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “you’re so pretty you know?”

you blush and look down at your feet.

“don’t look away” robin hums, her voice endlessly soft as she’s holding your chin between her index and her thumb. “don’t look away. you are. you’re so pretty”

your cheeks are soft and rosy by now, her compliments evidently affecting you.

“i love you okay?” she says, slightly more urgent. “i love you. and I’m not gonna apologize to anyone for loving you. not to jason. not to anyone”

“you love me?” you repeat, voice shaky and weak.

“of course i do. so so much” robin assures, with all the conviction in the world.

“i love you too”

the two of you remain silent for a moment, letting the words linger between the two of you. in the end of the day, you realize, it could be the two of you against the rest of the world and it wouldn’t change a single thing. it wouldn’t change the sense of safety only her arms can offer you, it wouldn’t change the way your heart races whenever you get to kiss her. it wouldn’t change the way you love her.

„seriously though“ robin says after a minute. „do you feel better? a little bit?”

“hmh” you nod and wrap your arms back around hers. robin’s height had always been perfect, just tall enough for you to rest your head on her shoulder. like this, you can close your eyes and let her hold your weight.

“that’s good” you feel her putting her chin on top of your head. “that’s good baby”

“i think I just wanna go home”

“we can do that” robin rubs circles over your back. “we can do that baby. i just wanna make sure you’re okay”

“i will be” you lean back, chin against her chest. “i will be”

“okay” robin says. “i’ll take you home yeah? we’ll have our own party”

you hum against her.

you know, then, that everything is gonna be okay after all, that you’ll still have the graduation celebration you wanted.

[tea-and-finalfantasy]

(18+) SOME LIN KUEI ORAL FIXATION HCS ❄️🔥💨

twt thread link | smut comms open | all links

full text ver & notes below cut

NOTES:

variation in style due to writing chunks on different days/not following the same abbreviations or rules depending on when they were written

so bi-han's was not intended to be longer but is bc it's more fic style than the quick notes i was going for when i wrote smoke's and kuai liang's sections

TEXT

💨starting w smoke as he's the only one i don't hc with an oral fixation himself BUT seeing as, in my hcs for him, his favorite thing is receiving oral, he very much appreciates the trait

💨has a fixation of sorts then with it in other people, always wanting to ease his fingers in their mouth, shuddering at the digits being sucked as if as potent to him as their mouth on his actual cock

💨enjoys seeing ppl with their mouths full, playing with this interest by feeding others--as gently or firmly as he's allowed 💨tests limits by always adding more--more fingers to the ones already inside, fingers alongside his cock, his cock & the dildo strapped above his own

💨evidenced by his fatality where he shoves a grenade in his enemy's mouth, keeping it open wide, pushing forcefully, aggressively, more than once or what's necessary with his whole palm, leaving their lips pursed, unable to close properly over what's forced inside their mouth

💨is not opposed to filling someone's mouth slowly, not pushing limits, just enjoying the slide of anything past another's lips, encouraged by his own hand--

💨but does enjoy seeing how far he can push it, starting off with small ball gags and going until the size is impossible to properly take, watching them struggle and strain their jaw, watching the constant flow of saliva strung down their chin, down the rest of their frame

💨cock aching at how obvious a motion swallowing has to be when struggling around something that won't let your mouth close, aching at those frustrated sounds, encouraging them to repeat themselves as he couldn't get it the first time :)

💨if he's allowed, he wants to grip someone by the hair/head/jaw and facefuck them until they can't take his cock slamming into their throat anymore, until they pull away, cum dribbling down their face and chest, coughing and gagging and drooling all over themselves

💨what he wants most afterwards--before cuddling and aftercare and a hell of a lot of kind, hushed words--is to get himself just as soaked and sticky with cum and saliva, to make an absolute mess of himself, to press his tongue to everything

💨promising to make it up to them amongst the unceasing praise and pecks to the cheeks and forehead, alongside the warm, gentle touch of his hand on the sides of their sore jaw and throat

🔥kuai liang just wants his holes filled and that includes--even prioritizes--something to fill his mouth 🔥loves it socially and despite the undercurrent of arousal to it regardless of setting, it's a calm kind of arousal if he's just doing it to relax

🔥if he's tense or feels out-of-body or vaguely notices, as if outside himself, that he's not fully in it, he knows something in his mouth will ground him 🔥is at first unaware of this (things feel blurry and he just tries his best to sleep it off) and then is ashamed of it--

🔥perceiving it as a crutch, as immaturity, but realizing it's something more frightening to him--feeling his cock leak merely at the thought of something filling his mouth so comfortably, at how overwhelmingly good it would feel--something he can't just will away

🔥still assuming he can stave it off, he'll keep the tip of his thumb between his teeth, almost absentmindedly, when stressed--akin to clicking a pen--feeling it calms him some, makes things more manageable than tackling issues with no ways to calm down afterwards

🔥or when masturbating, he'll bite the side of his hand, already apprehensive about and dismissive of his own desires to commonly stifle himself like this 🔥and these are nice and needed and fine but there's still something not being properly addressed or attended to--

🔥becoming a constant anxiety until he's anxious over any sexual activity, unable to vocalize his desire but similarly unable to ignore it 🔥mentions it out of exhaustion, too tired to fight it anymore, and is not met with derision or mockery, as he assumed he would be

🔥easily met with fingers on his tongue, as soon as he wants it, met with a cock or a strap filling his mouth whether he wants to have to swallow hard or just kneel there comfortably, mouth full

🔥when he's comfortable enough with it, he has a few masks outfitted with pecker gags inside--not long or girthy enough to choke on or struggle swallowing around, just enough to fit in his mouth comfortably or to give him something small to suck on

🔥his eyelids flutter shut, eyes rolling back a bit, and it's immediately noticeable that he's calmed down, to the point of feeling sleepy 🔥when he actually seems like he's going to doze off he'll take it out, spit strung from his lips to the gag, and curl up somewhere to nap--

🔥but while still somewhat awake, he likes to rest his head on someone's shoulder or in the crook of their neck when like this, feeling comfortable and warm and safe, the little suckling sounds only noticeable having him so close

🔥his cock will warm up beneath his clothes, enough to notice he's turned on, for there to be a slight bulge, but unless someone else touches him, he too submissive and spacey to do it himself, as if not knowing how to if he tried, or if he has a wet dream, he'll sleep it off

🔥when needy for it in a sexually charged setting, his favorite thing is getting gagged with a used buttplug. it could be anyone's/he's needy for it from everyone lol/he's a good boy and always says "please" and "thank you" but he whimpers so much for it when it's his own--

🔥easily slid out from his stretched hole and slid right back inside, just this time past his lips and onto his tongue 🔥he's not too loud the majority of the time but however quiet, the little moans and whines are consistent, especially with the taste of himself on his tongue

❄️bi-han's fixation is similar in a submissive sense, in that he does get hard but that arousal isn't always something he'll pursue when he wants to engage with it, in that it calms him when he's feeling high strung, when he's getting the hand tremors that precede a breakdown

❄the submissiveness within the scene is more in how defines his own headspace, going about the engagement silently, dialogue lending itself more naturally to kuai liang's experiences, given how his fantasies play out, but when there is talk--

❄️when he allows himself to hear it (not even being the one speaking) & not freeze up with self-hatred or nerves, the headspace bleeds out into the scene around it, any partner now equally as aware of just how small & fragile he's feeling, it no longer self-contained

❄️so there's difficulty in him speaking up about his own pleasure in the first place, only seeming outwardly confident about it if he can be more aggressive & take it--& still finding any expression of his own pleasure, & thus vulnerability, to be frightening--

❄️so when he's confronted by desire that makes him the solely vulnerable party (or so he assumes), a deep & persistent desire he desperately tried to tamp down once he realized what it was & just how raw it made him feel, he just gets more frantic trying to make it stop

❄️whereas kuai liang assumed this meant he wasn't as strong or self-sufficient as should be, & felt humiliated & ashamed when outwardly recognizing it for the first time, bi-han lashes out when he thinks there's any indication of this "weakness" showing

❄️if he's fighting with the onset of this headspace & feels he's losing, if he thinks the need setting in is perceptible to others, when he's beaten back this desire--for a safe space to be vulnerable & for the specific act itself--for so long with no luck, he bares his teeth

❄️but this cycle only makes the need more immediate, creeping down his spine until it's settled solidly at his back, pushing for proper recognition at all hours of the day

❄️he's desperate for a particular act of vulnerability but also for permission to not feel guilty about wanting what feels good, regardless if he's dominant or submissive or if there are no roles to it at all

❄️he wants to be given the go-ahead, to be allowed self-pleasure & partnership sexually, romantically, platonically, socially--any way he's been denied it thus far, first through the demanding expectations of others & now through those same expectations he's yoking himself with

❄️any previous forays into pleasure or intimacy have been abrupt & inconsistent so while seeming to start with the thing that's most difficult to admit sounds like a horrible idea, it's because it's come to a point where he has no choice but to recognize this one--

❄️& is honestly so worn out from fending it off & failing that he's not even angry or upset when he finally requests it, he's simply exhausted & it's obvious down to the bones

❄️it's at the end of a long day, long merely from having this same thought process banging around inside his head once again, to the point where it was the first thing he'd thought of upon waking & it never left his mind since

❄️he'd been unable to make himself coffee, unable to put on his usual clothes--opting for mostly the same things he went to bed in--unable to type out a single legible thing on his phone, & spent the day resigned to bringing it up, knowing things couldn't continue like this

❄️but in finally giving up on fending it off, he gets some relief in just melting into that headspace, feeling awfully needy as he spends the day in bed, sleepily pressing a forearm between his legs, humping the blankets ever so slightly, almost as if not noticing he's doing it

❄️whenever there's finally someone to admit it to--whomever that is depending on your preferences--it does take some prodding but just in the initial question of "what's wrong" & it not taking any time to be asked, something obviously off the moment they see him

❄️there's something said about feeling off, feeling more stressed than usual--both surprisingly honest admissions on their own--but then he mutters something about wanting something in particular, eyes ticked to their peripherals, staring blankly into the distance

❄️"could i just..." something about sucking on their chest, putting his mouth on them for a while--& while it's met with immediate, enthusiastic acceptance, however quiet, while he feels on the verge of hysterics having made himself sick over something so easily allowed--

❄️now he doesn't know how to get himself in position without having to admit what it looks like & why ❄️but this time he just goes for it, shakily but with some of his usual confidence, at least in moving with the cadence of someone who always intends to take as they please

❄️they settle in comfortably & he feels allowed to do so as well, following their lead in this going however he needs it to, in action & duration & pace ❄️he initially settles in the crook of their arm, pulse & breathing noticeably quicker as he watches them pull their shirt off,

❄️lips parted, dazed but oddly patient about the opportunity, gaze flickering upward & an unsure placement of the hand, waiting for permission an additional time

❄️he's oddly not forceful about it either, physically desperate only in the shaky exhale he lets out when he realizes he's not being lead on or dreaming or that the permission's not being revoked

❄️they mention he must be uncomfortable in that position though with his neck a bit crooked, the rest of him folded up neatly so as to not take up too much space, still unable to comfortably immerse himself in it, to do everything he really wants,

❄️but eventually the arm that's pinned starts going numb & even if it weren't, he'd still need to switch sides to avoid making his partner sore, having been suckling so steadily even at at such a relaxed pace

❄️when he switches sides, this time he lets himself lay his legs over their lap, lets them place their arm behind his head, allows himself to settle in more comfortably--more permanently than before, having assumed he'd rush through it or back out or they'd tire of it

❄️it's comfortable. relaxed. domestic even--even if that's particularly new & scary to admit. but there's no fear or worry to it now, only a steady warmth & perhaps a small moment of humor for them both, him hoping he's not crushing their thighs with his

❄️they pull his head in closer to their chest so he can rest more of his weight on them, so they have a free hand to smooth affectionately over the crown of his head & the overwhelming relief of finally doing this properly, the pleasure of having his hair played with--

❄️the intimacy of the act & how it soothed him immediately, being cared for & doted on, being allowed to feel small & fragile like this but so safe and protected here, makes him start to doze off,

❄️first struggling to keep his eyes open then allowing them to flutter shut but still trying to stay awake ❄️then quiet, steady breaths in as he's out like a light, still suckling a bit in his sleep ❄️no matter how many times he does it, he usually dozes off at some point during,

❄️this first time sleeping well into morning, waking up tucked in neatly, his partner asleep beside him, not unsealing his portion of blankets, keeping one for themselves--enough to avoid a chill, but keeping a hand free to touch his, wanting him to know everything's alright

❄️that he doesn't need to feel ashamed now that the scene's over, if he's even out of the headspace yet. they want to make sure he's okay, they want to wake up next to him--they want to make sure he knows that asking for that didn't drive them away

❄️he's quiet & doesn't usually lapse into using titles, at least outside of his own head, but he's very much not opposed to a partner referring to themselves that way, as "mommy" or "daddy," whichever their preference

❄️it makes his ears go red & he can't look them in the eyes but he always tries (& fails) to hide his bulge, his body so receptive to it ❄️lactation is a huge turn on & is probably how these scenes delve into anything where arousal is actually tended to but it's not a necessity

❄️his enjoyment of it isn't reliant on that in the first place & he doesn't want anyone going out of their way to make it happen (or to subject themselves to any supernatural situations for it, esp if it causes any pain), the headspace making him more than content with pretending

❄️but when he gets to, he drinks like his life depends on it, trying to commit the taste to memory, desperate for every drop, even apologizing when he knows he's sucking too hard & for too long but is unable to get himself to stop

❄️he's also much more talkative & much more physical if he actually gets to drink: panting out "thank you"s as he sucks at their chest, whimpering as he humps their thigh or grinds against the junction of thigh & hip

🧙‍♀️(that's it for now, thank u for reading~ ;w;)👾

[decks-writing-blog]

There's Nothing Wrong With You

Summary: Everyone's assuming Alyx and Gordon are a couple. They're wrong and it's starting to annoy Alyx.

[A/N] Originally I had the idea of writing a fic exploring why Eli assumes Alyx and Gordon are romantically inclined towards each other and how he wants to support Alyx in that as well as why he wants to specifically encourage it. And then it was gonna end with her coming in with a 'hey, this ain't it, please stop' and then it becomes a coming out story (it is pride month after all) in which she's supported. But I couldn't find a good opening so I decided to write it from Alyx's POV instead and just have it be the 'this ain't it' and coming out part but accidentally discovery wrote my way into this instead. Some of my salt about how little attention Alyx gets from the fandom and how the vast majority of the attention she does get is when she's being shipped with Gordon inevitably came into play. I suppose it was only a matter of time before it did because it bothers me kinda a lot. Please Half-Life fandom, pay more attention to Alyx; she's literally the main character of the story and she's cool, stop sleeping on her so much. I have to make literally everything I want to see fic-wise in this fandom (I already read almost if not all of what little was here already) myself.

~

Gordon was a good man. Alyx liked him. Of course she did, there was no possible way for her to not like him. They’d gone to hell and back together and then he’d gone to hell and back to bring her home. She’d never been closer to anyone she didn’t consider family.

Everyone assumed things about him and her based off how obvious all of that was. At first it hadn’t been a big deal. It had just been teasing and Dad’s occasional mention of wanting grand kids one day. But the further away they got from the Combine being kicked off Earth and Alyx’s return to it, the more people just assumed things. It wasn’t a question to be teased about anymore but seemingly an accepted fact by many both among the former Resistance people as well as the regular citizens.

Which was annoying but not that big a deal right up until their rebuilding efforts had gotten far enough along that it was decided a book needed to be published detailing the Combine’s expulsion from Earth. As an important part of it, Alyx was interviewed. The interviewer had focused a bit too much on her relationship with Gordon even straight up asking, “When seeing him for the first time was it love at first sight or did it take a bit longer?”

Even now, hours later, Alyx still stewed in annoyance – thinking about it so much wasn’t helping of course but she couldn’t help it. She’d handled herself well… mostly. Her frustration had shown through a bit more than she’d intended but she hadn’t embarrassed herself. But it still irked her. There was people making incorrect assumptions about her love life and then there was the way they associated her with Gordon; that her role in everything only mattered in that she was Gordon’s girlfriend. The interviewer hadn’t cared about the things she’d done or her other relationships; she was Gordon’s smart talented girlfriend and that’s what defined her as a person.

She had to talk to Gordon about it. Immediately hadn’t been an option. Gordon’s interview for the book was going much longer than hers had. Which made sense, he’d done more and wasn’t talkative so getting him to share a lot about anything took some time. And someone might have to be interpreting his signing. Or maybe they just had him writing stuff down. Regardless of the reason she sat on a nearby chair and waited until finally the door opened.

The interviewer came out first followed by Gordon and then Barney. Likely then Barney had been acting as sign language interpreter as he’d unofficially taken on that role. As soon as Gordon’s eyes caught on her, he abandoned that ending conversation and walked over.

She stood. “We need to talk.”

He nodded. Either an agreement that they had something to talk about or just an ‘okay’.

“Is now a good time?” The thought of putting it off any longer itched but he’d just got out of a long interview. Pressing him immediately into another conversation was a tall ask.

Another nod before he turned and waved Barney over. What he signed to him, Alyx didn’t catch from this angle.

“Uh… all right then. Catch up with you two later then.” With a hand wave, Barney turned and headed off.

Gordon turned back to face her. “The yard?”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”

Luckily it was at that perfect time of evening when the base was still mostly empty and the few people who were around were busy with work around here or getting ready to go to wherever they called home. Meaning they didn’t encounter many people on their way through the halls, minimizing the amount of people who interrupted them to talk to Gordon. Sometimes when she was alone they wanted to talk to her – often about Gordon – but always when with him, they just wanted to talk to him. Other than that, the two of them didn’t say as they made their way along.

The yard was Dog’s new area, including his rebuilt house where he could plug-in to recharge. It was smaller than his old area back before City 17 blew up. But being so busy helping with various construction projects, he wasn’t in it as often so it wasn’t a big deal. Unfortunately he was off on one such outing right now, leaving the place feeling rather barren. Long gone were the days he’d just sat around guarding and playing with Alyx. He gotten smarter, resulting in him growing antsy if forced to sit around in one place for too long and he was too great a help to not be put to work moving heavy things. Everyone had to do their part rebuilding society after all. But still it’d be nice to be able to spend more time with him.

That complaint was small next to her main one though as she followed Gordon over the little table and chairs set in the corner. He in particular often came out here to be alone especially during mealtimes. She joined him fairly frequently so this was familiar.

Once seated across from each other they sat in silence for a little while. Her not knowing how to begin and him patiently waiting for her to figure it out. … It would make sense for them to be dating, wouldn’t it? She had every reason in the world to want to kiss him. But did she want to? She’d never considered such a thought before. Seen other people do it plenty of times but never thought of it as something she might one day do.

It’d be wet, wouldn’t it? Wet specifically with saliva. And his breath would probably be hot and who knows if it’d even smell good. Apparently sometimes tongue touching was involved somehow too. … Ew. Gross.

And then there were the other things couples often did. What would his hands feel like caressing her bare body and breasts? Dad wanted grand kids too so… The book Isaac had given her detailing sex and everything around it, including pregnancy had been thorough but also deeply clinical. Making it easy to not think about it as something that might happen to her. But when applied to real life, pregnancy sounded like something straight out of a horror novel. The thought of something growing inside her, feeding off her body, distorting and twisting it was nauseating. And not just because that’s similar to what the headcrabs did to their victims, realizing that comparison only made the idea more horrific. Why would anyone want that?

Also the act of getting pregnant, she didn’t remember what the book said well enough to recall all of what it had detailed about the physical act of sex and how it was done. The general thought of a penis going inside her made her tense up and pulled her legs tighter together. How could such a thing possibly be desirable?

Okay so, she didn’t want Gordon to touch her like that, not even a kiss. She certainly had no desire to carry his child, Dad would just have to live with no grand kids . But that wasn’t all there was to romance though, right? Dad and Isaac were dating and a lot of the time that manifested as looks, subtle touches, and the ways they talked to each other, especially when alone – it was hard not to accidentally overhear their flirting sometimes. Did she want any of that with Gordon?

What would ‘any of that’ even entail for them exactly? What made romantic love, romantic love? Books painted it as something different and the way people talked about their partners was often different than the ways they talked about their friends and family. Supposedly romance was this big grand thing but… why? What even was it? It was different from platonic or familiallove but in what way? One was supposed to just know, right? Why did it feel like such a foreign concept to her? Was there was something wrong with her for not loving Gordon the way everyone, including her own father, thought she did?

Gordon tapped the table between them, drawing her gaze back up onto him. “Are you okay?”

Damn, she’d been siting here long enough that it had grown awkward. “I uh… I don’t love you. Or no! I do, of course I love you, you’re my best friend. But… I don’t love you in the way everyone thinks I do. Sorry.” Her intention had been to express her annoyance with everyone’s assumptions about them and talk to him about correcting that misinformation but instead she was apologizing because what if everyone was right and she should feel that way? What if Gordon felt that way and she’d just broken his heart? “I don’t know if you uh… feel that way about me or whatever but… I just don’t. Sorry.”

His expression didn’t change, it rarely did. “I don’t feel that way about you and am relieved you reciprocate that.”

Alyx let out the breath she’d been holding before lifting her hands to respond in sign. Such wasn’t necessary but it always felt more polite and because of how often she did so, she’d gotten pretty good at conversing in sign language. “Really?”

He nodded. “I was starting to worry I would have to turn you down. It’s always an awkward conversation.”

“Is it a conversation you’ve had a lot?”

He shrugged. “A few times.”

“Do you not feel that way about anyone or… have you just not found the right person yet?” Was Alyx alone in not feeling such things? Or was something wrong with her? Maybe she was a lesbian. The thought of a woman kissing or touching her sexually felt just as gross though.

“No one. There is no right person. Even before… everything, I never wanted romance or sex. I want it even less now.”

“Is it normal to not want that ever? Is it normal to be… grossed out by the thought of it? It’s just… it never came up before. Stuff was always happening with the Combine and I never thought twice about dating or whatever. But now everyone assumes we’re together and for a moment I thought that… maybe we should be since that seems to be what’s expected. But then when I really thought about it, it felt gross. And I realized I don’t even really know what romance is supposed to feel like or whatever. Is that weird?” Was Alyx weird for feeling that way?

Gordon paused for a moment, his hands hovering in the air for a couple seconds before responding. “It’s uncommon but it’s normal. You’re not broken. There’s nothing wrong with you.” It’s almost like he’d read her mind, dispelling that worry before it could even properly take root. If he felt that way too then it had to be just the way some people were, right?

“Thanks.”

He nodded. “Do you want to do more to correct people?”

“That’s uh… actually the thing I wanted to talk to you about, mainly. It’s gone a bit beyond being kind of annoying.” They should’ve done something to correct that notion before now.

“Okay. Also, you and the rest of the Resistance don’t get as much credit as you deserve. I fixed that in my interview earlier… or tried to.”

“That too. Dad’s the leader and like… barely anyone ever wants to give him credit for stuff.” He’d done a lot, including gathering up the Resistance and laying the bedrock that allowed all the big stuff she and Gordon had accomplished to occur. The only stuff Gordon had done entirely on his own was dealing with the Resonance Cascade. “This books stuff should be a good time finally get everything straight, huh?”

“Yes. I love you too by the way, as a friend.”

[desceros]

i don’t think you have to apologize at all for not having a symphony update tbh! it’s very gracious of you to do so but i hope people remember that it’s your passion project first and foremost and not anything any of us readers (regardless of how involved or invested you allow us to be) should feel we have any say over, schedule wise. i love your writing and will always wait for it, and know a lot of your other readers will probably say the same!

(as an aside: something i noted when i first started following you in december was how prolific you were… like the fact i could check your blog every day and there was some food?? i was floored. but even your current posting sched impresses me—the fact that you say you’ll have something out one day and on that day IT IS OUT. idk maybe i am used to my old fandoms being more casual or being interrupted by life, as fandoms with adults tend to be like. so you writing and sharing as much as you do is not something i take for granted. thank you as always.)

(i hope this message reads as appreciative / friendly as i intend it to be hhhh… i’m sorry if not…)

thank you for your kind message! i have a rather long one in return, i do apologize, but it is me, so we should probably have all seen it coming! :D

so, i've kind of talked about it here and there, but i have a wrist that is pretty sensitive to overworking. in high school, i would practice music for hours and hours every day without properly stretching or taking breaks, because no one told me i should do so. as a result, i really wrecked the tendons, and my ulnar nerve in particular has a tendency to flare up. it's quite painful when it hurts, and before it starts properly hurting, i experience i kind of buzzing numbness that is distinctly uncomfortable. it's not severe enough for surgical intervention, but it's definitely a limiting factor in what i'm capable, mechanically, of doing in a day.

back around november/december, i was posting a lot more. but that was with me disregarding my wrist and pushing through the pain, such that for the first couple of weeks in january it was nearly impossible for me to write. this was emotionally agonizing, because i love writing so, so much, and i wanted to share everything in my head with all of you! i felt like i was failing on a precedent i had set for myself, and it's very irritating seeing my mountain of projects getting bigger because i can't write quickly enough to put a dent in it and not just because i was coming up with more ideas (which is, to be clear, still suuuuch a problem haahahhaa).

it got to the point where i started confiding in my partner and my friends about my issue, and they all insisted that i start slowing down. and they're right! i was being reckless with my health, knowingly this time, and they're absolutely correct that i need to take breaks. take days where i don't write. days where i rest, and stretch, and let my wrist heal and recover.

i know it sucks as a reader, i really do, especially if you came on board during that time when i was being super active. and i'm not apologizing, per se, since i'm certainly not going to apologize for prioritizing health over hobby. but i do understand the... hm. i'm going to say frustration, but perhaps i mean the disappointment, or the whiplash maybe, from having someone going from posting very very frequently to less so. i'm still what i'd categorize as an active, prolific writer, but it is infuriating to know that, without this injury, i'd be capable of much more. it annoys me to no end, i swear! but i am purposefully stepping back, for my health, and for the worry of my friends and love ones.

all that said! nothing is on hiatus, nothing is being cancelled, none of that. it's just going to take me longer to work through things than any of us would like, hahahaha. so i really do thank you for your sweet and encouraging message, and i appreciate all of you for every thoughtful wish you send, all of your funny comments on my fics, and your support. i'm actually getting to the happy problem that there are so many that it's not quite feasible for me to respond to all of them individually, but i do read and treasure each one. this is the most uplifting, positive fandom i've ever experienced, and it really does make a difference as a writer knowing that people are filled with joy when i share my art and then go and spin that joy back out into the world.

[practically-an-x-man]

Character Ask:

1, 11

Ship ask:

Q, S, T, W, Y

Author:

🎬, 🖌️, ‼️

Thank you!!! I think I'll answer this for Jimmy (and his relationship with Lars) since I know you love them <3

OC/Ship Ask Game: Firsts

First big aspiration (i.e. what did they want to be when they grew up?)

Oh, he bounced around from inspiration to inspiration as a kid. He passed some blues musicians playing out on the street, he wanted to pick up an instrument and be a musician himself. He wandered by leatherworkers, carpenters, any number of other artisan shops, and he wanted to learn those.

However, the main one that stuck was reading about Charles Darwin and his travels - it made him want to work with animals, and potentially even discover new species.

11. First "big purchase" they ever made on their own

His father didn't wear suits most days, being an ironworker, but he did have his good tailored suit that he wore for nights out, and Jimmy always associated that suit with success and comfort. When he was a teenager, he finally saved up enough to get himself a real tailored suit like his dad's, and he wore it just about as often as he could because he wanted to look like a distinguished gentleman.

____

Q. First act of non-sexual intimacy (e.g. washing the other's hair, taking a bath together, sharing food)

This will come up in the fic so I'll keep it succinct, but they do read to each other as an act of non-sexual intimacy :D

Lars enjoys podcasts and music while he works since it helps him focus, and Jimmy reads to him on the days he forgets his headphones and struggles to focus in the silence. And Lars returns the favor when... well, that one's a plot point, no spoilers.

S. First anniversary + how they celebrated

Honestly... I haven't really thought about it that far out yet. I could imagine something classic and romantic for them - Jimmy buys Lars some flowers or another small gift, they get a dinner reservation, and maybe walk around Coney Island after dinner for that callback to how they met... it would be sweet.

T. First time dancing together

Aww, this is also giving me a soft little thought - Jimmy insisting on finding some proper New York blues for Lars, finding a little jazz club somewhere in the city... It's Jimmy's first dance with a man, and Lars' first time dancing to that style of music (though he's probably not a particularly accomplished dancer in any genre...), they're both a little awkward, but they just have a great time regardless.

W. First time they realized their relationship is endgame... or isn't

Also a plot point, but I will say that there's a bit of a physical cue ;)

Y. First time living together

After they officially get together, Jimmy does start spending his nights at Lars' apartment. "Living together" is a bit generous in a sense, since Jimmy still just kinda exists in the space (I mean he doesn't eat, doesn't sleep, doesn't really have other bodily functions, so it's really just another place to be), but it's much nicer to be in the apartment than an empty lab.

____

🎬 - First fandom(s) you wrote for, and if you still write for them

Answered previously!

🖌️ - First character you created, or first character you wrote for

Also answered previously!

‼️ - Free space! Tell us about a notable "first" in your writing journey!

Hm... I started out exclusively writing longfics, actually. Coming up with the story plots was easy, but I always felt like I was missing out on key details about the characters and their relationships when I tried to write a oneshot, so they always ended up a lot longer than I intended. But as I've gotten more comfortable as a writer, I've been able to pare things down while still being satisfied with the final product, and I've written so many more impromptu oneshots and ficlets than new-writer me could have ever imagined!

Side note: I have no idea why long pieces were easier for me to write than short ones, I know it's the reverse for a lot of people, I just wanted to share all the details and references and inside jokes in these characters' relationships and I couldn't tell how to just write a singular moment in time.

[crehador]

hee hoo UNO REVERSE: 3, 27, and 30 for the ao3 wrapped ask game?! ✨

uwah got uno reversed! ty for the ask!! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

WOW SO i was going to say "significance because i fell down the stairs while writing it, had to take a break to recover from a minor head injury, came back to its weeks (months?) later, and somehow still finished it despite being Real Bad at continuing things i take a break from so am very proud of myself for that" HOWEVER i looked and realized i finished it in 2022?? so i guess that's out for this year's wrapped and woag time sure does fly lol

i feel like the next obvious answer is pride, my ichisama tokyo ghoul fusion, but i don't want to pick it just because it's long. i did enjoy writing it and am more or less happy(ish) with how it came out, though i think a lot of my pride in it (no pun intended) does come from the fact that it was longer than what i usually manage to finish

ANYWAY... i actually think i'm going to go with stay gold! my one and only revenger fic lol

i wrote it in a fit of disappointment over the show's actual ending, but wound up actually really liking it... i think? (still feels difficult to say this about my own writing but i am! practicing!! the self-esteem thing!!!)

there are a bunch of details i managed to include that just make me happy (like the... name thing which i will probably make a separate post about in a minute here because OHMYGOD i want to talk about it again SO BAD and this is as good an excuse as any)

so yeah tl;dr i'm still very happy with stay gold :3

27. What do you listen to while writing?

tragically in recent years i have become the type that needs silence to write, i am just Bad at concentrating with music on even though i would love to listen to something when i write orz

so the answer is currently i listen to nothing while writing, but since that is a very uninteresting answer, i will say that in the past i did listen to godspeed you! black emperor quite a lot for background noise during writing sessions!

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

IT'S GOTTA BE [REDACTED] AU BUT I CAN'T TALK ABOUT IT YET FOR FEAR OF SCARING IT AWAY LOL the biggest surprise part is how like... 15k of it came spilling out in, what, like 3 days or so?

alas i have stalled on it since then, but i still am very attached to the idea of it i think... so hopefully i will be able to get it done at some point! it is going to be one of those strange niche aus that appeals probably only to me BUT i'm surprisingly in love with the idea and hope to get going on it again soon

(becoming the deer mutual for love tapped was also a wonderful surprise!)

[jokerfic]

Hey!! Are you currently writing anything?

Hi!! Yeah I am! I actually spent the weekend going through some WIPs and seeing which ones have legs. Right this second I'm finishing up the rough draft for a Far Cry 5 longfic that'll conclude the little series I started-- I'm about 90% done with it and it's almost 90k words so far, which is about 30k words longer than I thought it would be, lol.

On the Joker/Batverse side of things, Alice's fic is at around 20k, and out of nowhere a couple months ago I started working on a totally new idea, a Joker-centric psychological horror (tentatively titled "there's something in the basement") and I have no idea if that'll go anywhere but it could be fun. on the Bad Jokes side of things I intend to add to Funny Business at the very least, though I think there might also be another longer story in there. I'm definitely going to follow up my Gotham fic as well-- Jerome and Isabel have my heart.

And on the not-Joker side of things, I have a hefty chunk of a Red Dead Redemption 2 draft (like, 100 pages so far, it's going to be BEEFY cause I love westerns and I'm thrilled to write one), there's about 25 pages of an Adrian Chase/Vigilante-centered Peacemaker fic that I think could be a lot of fun to finish (he's SO messy and a blast to write), I started writing an Eddie Munson Stranger Things fic last summer then got mad at how the season ended but I'll probably pick it back up regardless, there's a House of Wax (2005) story in the works that's super self-indulgent-- and speaking of self-indulgent, I'm working on a Castle Rock fic because I'm FURIOUS that it was canceled before I got the answers I wanted. So I'm going to attempt to fill in the gaps myself. :)

There are more, including some original stuff, but those are the ones I'm excited about right now. It's been a long drought but I'm already writing (and reading!) more this year than I was this time last year, so I'm hopeful I can share several things with you all over the next few months.

[miseria-fortes-viros]

finished ch2 of the trc screenplay

head in hands....

(constellation si such good choice at the start btw)

just just where did you learn to this? how? ACTUALLY THE CHARACTERISATIONS !!! THE NARRATOR

how would you imagine the voices and the shots anyway (do you have any specifics in your head) ? would czerny be not shown fully to not give away the reveal? would the narrator and noahs voice be the same?

actually vibrating all the possibilities

thank you thank you THANK YOU for the ask!! i took a few screenwriting classes in college before i dropped out like a cool person. and i took part of my inspiration for narrator noah from netflix’s a series of unfortunate events—lemony snicket himself is the narrator and he’s heard the story before but it still upsets him and he can’t really do anything about it, and then later on it’s revealed that he’s heard the story because he was in it, and that just makes his narration all the more sinister. noah has all these hard hitting lines that he delivers somewhat emotionlessly, like he’s just reciting them from memory most of the time, but there are a handful that seem to be unscripted or unplanned or just full of emotion when the rest of them aren’t. which begs the question—how much does he remember? stuck in a time loop of his own creation, beginning and ending with both of his deaths and both of gansey’s deaths, seemingly having gone through it over and over but remembering less and less each time—is he just going through the motions and the emotional moments catch him off guard because he genuinely doesn’t expect them, or does he react the same way each time through, doomed to repeat everything over and over again regardless of how he really feels about it, almost like a longer version of him reenacting his own death? do you become noah when you rewatch the show? interesting to think about!

on the subject of czerny my beloved!!

in my head dead noah and alive noah are played by different actors. they look similar, but costuming hides this as much as possible until the reveal. noah, being a shell of his former self, is thinner, paler, more gaunt, he only wears the aglionby uniform and it’s worn as intended. his personality is really subdued compared to czerny—it only makes sense that the rest of him would be, too. czerny is a bit more filled out. his face is rounder, he’s got a tan, he doesn’t tie his tie correctly and he doesn’t tuck in his shirt. he wears this stupid snapback and a denim jacket with patches on it, mostly blink-182. noah’s voice is soft, it’s got little to no inflection most of the time unless specified. czerny is loud, he takes up space, he’s a goofball. in the world where this tv show is real, some really attentive viewers might draw some parallels between noah and czerny, but ultimately nobody will go the ‘they’re the same person’ route because of how different they are. and then noah will say “i was more when i was alive” and “i’m tired of decaying” and it will make sense why they’re so different. noah is all that’s left.

anyway i very much love talking about the concepts for my trc screenplay bc the tricky thing about script is that ‘show, don’t tell’ is a strict rule rather than just a suggestion like it is in other forms of writing. the narrator is a fun thing to have, but theoretically the show should be able to stand on its own without a narrator. if lost, the narrator’s absence should be felt, but the show can’t be unwatchable after that. so a lot of things that you would think the narrator would say have to be turned into offhand comments or body language or a flashback. it’s not easy AND it means i can’t outright say a lot of things the way i would in a standard fic. all this to say, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING and for the questions and i hope this answers them!! love you!!!

[fractoluminescence]

For the AO3 wrapped meme! :)

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)? 12. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year? 20. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

Oh! Tbh I reblogged this so as to not lose it and come back to it when I'd have more stuff posted (which is why it's got the fract resources tag instead of the featured tag) and was kinda expecting nobody to notice lol. The ask is welcomed tho <3

(Note: This got a lot longer than I meant it to be. Whoops)

3: Most of my works are currently unpublished - in the sense that I've been ambitious right off the bat, and have been working on the same WIP for roughly 7 years now. I like 'Blood Bank' (which is posted on AO3 and is an unrequited love AiShin Vampire AU I wrote in a rush for AiShin week this year - I'll need to copyedit it properly sometime lol), but otherwise the work I'm working on (currently nicknamed 'You Only Die Twice', but I'll likely change that name because it doesn't make as much sense now as it did when I named it that) is the one I'm the proudest of.

The whole thing started out as one big story called 'Isolated', but then I learned to plot about 2 years ago or smth and realized I was trying to write at least 6 different novel-length stories within one fic... So I've untangled them and now I'm working on them one at a time lmfao (at least now I know why I was struggling to write that massive thing so much ahahah, what a mess. At any rate, I've decided to only publish each of them once they are finished, so while the old Isolated from high school is still online I haven't posted anything of this fic series since).

I'm very proud of my characters (my main character in particular. She's the first OC I managed to develop correctly and actually like. That's a whole story though so not going into it here), but even more so of the structure I'm able to give the whole thing - it feels so good to actually know what I'm doing and have so many elements of the story just click into place like well-oiled cogs.

Also the story involves the SRDI so I get to write sci-fi-ish mad-scientist-sounding stuff hehehe.

---

12: So, I have YODT, as mentioned above. I also have a fic I wrote the first chapter of during AiShin week called 'Feed Me Love' to finish (it's a sort of mirror version of a friend's fic). And I have my other long project, an either novel or novella-long demon-summoning AU fic called 'The Summoner' (also AiShin) that is in the works, but I've set as a rule for myself to only work on it during periods during which I need space from YODT (which I currently don't, because I'm barely working on the latter, and this is the fault of my master's schedule because I only have very few hours of class a week and thus completely lost the habit I had of writing at the same hour every day after class that allowed me to make tons of progress last year. I can currently barely step out of my house and my sleep schedule is worse than it has ever been, including during periods when I was a lot more depressed than this).

I have a song I started revolving around Momo that's been going very well but that I haven't taken the time to work on since this summer, and a couple of poems that I'm waiting to be fully confident of before I post them anywhere that I might wrap up sometime.

I also intend to rewrite and finish the translation of one French fic I had started in high school sometime. Knowing me I'll likely start working on it again at the drop of a hat one of these days.

---

20: YODT, probably, since I fix plot-consistency issues as I go. Other than that, likely a poem of mine somewhere wins that one.

[aphelea]

Hi hello i am here to scream about broken minds

What the fuck. August. Oh my fucking god ow what the fuck that hurt so much and it was fantastic.

The "this is why collective members can't date" line was so right. You know that black swan oath they had to make where they said they would value the good of the world over everything else? Something like that? I am a firm believer that Tiergan never really meant that oath because he would always prioritize Prentice above everything else. Prentice is more important to him than the black swan, which is very much against the rules of being in the collective, but Tiergan feels that way regardless. Might have more thoughts on this later but right now I am tired.

"You're an idiot, darling." Amazing. The most romantic line ever written. He would fucking say that.

And then Prentice made sure to memorize a letter to Tiergan and leave that as one of the last memories to stay intact? Holy shit? He cares so much and he's putting so much effort into making sure he gets to say a proper goodbye to someone he barely even remembers but knows he loves and jlkjlkjflksjdkghsdlkj

"I will love you all even when I cannot remember what love is." I don't know what it is about that line but it's so ough.

Tiergan deciding that he wouldn't mind having his mind broken as long as he got to stay with Prentice was amazing and you were so right for that but also. Ow. I am in pain, August. That was very rude of you.

Can't believe Forkle interrupted their moment. Homophobic :/ but also seriously what did he think was gonna happen if he brought Tiergan on the mission? That rock is gay. You're trying to rescue his gay lover. He is going to stop focusing on the mission and do gay shit. You should have expected this Forkle.

Also I very much liked your dialogue in this. Like yes it was pretentious but in a very endearing way and would it truly be an Arjun Gay Telepath fic if it didn't include pretentious dialogue?

Anyway. Thank you so much for writing this, I am going to be insane about it forever

S I’m. I’m smiling so hard right now thank you for this ask that’s probably longer than the whole fic shdjfhfhjfjf

I’m sensing a very Santi sort of loyalty to the Black Swan. Except the Black Swan are better than the Library. (Mostly.)

I’m a little bit obsessed with Prentice calling Tiergan “darling” and I tried to put it in wherever I could. Glad it worked as intended lol

I’m glad you liked the final line of the letter because that was my favourite to write!! I don’t know what it is about that line either but it’s just so. Ahhh

Tiergan would gladly Exile himself just to see Prentice one last time. It’s just a very him thing to do

No clue what Forkle was thinking. Maybe he thought they were straight. Maybe he wasn’t thinking at all. Either way, not his smartest moment

I’m glad you liked the dialogue!! This one is certainly a lot more pretentious than usual. Although you’re very right, it wouldn’t be a trademark Arjun Gay Telepath fic without pretentious dialogue. It’s just my thing at this point

I’m glad you liked the fic and in fact I will be going insane about this comment forever. Literally screaming you’re amazing for this :)

[bonesandthebees]

so this post definitely broke containment from its original intended audience. ty to everyone who has sent me condolences in the tags or asked me if I'm alright, I'm totally fine don't worry I've received worse comments than this. and I've received FAR more wonderfully kind comments than negative ones. I just made this post as a vent to keep myself from responding to the comment while I was still freshly annoyed.

however, I just saw some tags that bring up something I want to address

(note: this is in no way me being upset at the person who wrote these comments. I 100% understand why you think this, it's incredibly fair to assume very popular authors don't read all their comments, which is exactly why I want to correct it)

I didn't want to specify which of my fics I received this comment on because I didn't want anyone else to try and find it and respond to it, but others have already figured it out and responded and I've just decided to freeze the comment thread instead.

anyway, the fic I got this comment on currently has over 578,000 hits, and almost 4k comments. since this post broke containment and most people reblogging this don't know me, this isn't even my most popular fic. my most popular fic has over 2 million hits and 9.6k comments. I am, by all definitions, an incredibly popular author for my fandom.

despite this, despite all the emails I get from ao3 on a daily basis, I still saw this comment. I don't respond to my comments for the most part, because, well, it's a lot (and a vast majority of the time the questions I get in my comments have answers you can find on my social media). and sure, back when I was updating that fic that has over 500k hits or that fic that now has over 2 million hits, I would probably skim over a few comments because so many would come into my inbox at once. but I still read all of them. and now that my fandom has slowed down significantly and I no longer get blasted with 100+ comments within 2 hours of posting a chapter, I see pretty much every comment I get. across all 68 fics I've posted. I see them, and they still hurt.

and if you want to say, well bee, you clearly get so many good comments heaping you with praise you shouldn't really be complaining about the fraction of bad ones you get, you're right, I have no room to complain. I'm unbelievably grateful for how much support and love I get on my fanfic. it's why I've stayed in this fandom longer than any fandom I've written for in the past.

but I want people to know that all ao3 authors see their comments, regardless of how big or small they are. I want people to know that it hurts to see something you wrote for free entirely out of love for your favorite characters be criticized in such harsh ways. don't assume that just because a fic was posted years ago, or the author is hugely popular that they won't see it so it gives you free reign to comment whatever you want. we'll see it, so be kind. if you want to criticize a fic that's fine, but do it in a private space. don't do it in the fics comments section where you'll just be shoving it in the author's face.

ao3 commenters PSA: even on older fics with a ton of comments the authors still get the notifs for every single comment

re: the person who just left a multi paragraph comment on one of my older fics talking about how much they disliked the ending and detailing several alternate endings they came up with instead that they thought would be better, and ending the comment with "no one is going to see this but oh well" authors see your comments yes even on old fics and it really doesn't feel good to see a comment like that even years after I finished the fic

[aquanova99]

Can you do a headcanon of the volturi guards reaction to their vampire mate gettimg attacked and nearly taken out but they survive.

Damn you guys were quick with the requests I fucking love it, also to my one person still waiting on that Bucky fic I ended making it a lot longer than I originally intended so if you see this just know that it’s coming I fucking promise! Warning this is really long for headcanons tbh

Alec

Oh my God Alec is going to be hazard to anyone around him

If you barely made it out of the fight and couldn’t beat the other vampire he’s going on a man hunt

Or woman hunt he really doesn’t care what they are all he knows is he’s going to tear them apart, bring their pieces to Volterra, let them put themselves back to get her, and have Jane go crazy

If you want to you can do the honors and finish them

Part of you may be traumatized and who can blame you, Alec will give you the space or comfort you need even if it is at a discomfort to him

Absolutely feral at anyone who tried to interact with you in the following weeks

Trusts no one around you and it’s probably for the best because after all of these events happened to you, you’re a bit on edge and ready to lash out against anyone

So he’s probably doing it for everyone’s sake but mostly for you

Jane

You were almost afraid to say anything but you made it back to the castle so disheveled it was hard for Jane to ignore something had happened

You had been checking on alliances between other covens when a nomad started accusing you of being in his territory

Thank god they didn’t let people leave the castle until Felix gave the okay because you almost lost that fight.

The nomad had been relentless landing a few punches forming a few cracks in your face, you barely managed to claw them off let alone win

While it offered no relief you felt your breathing coming out ragged as you saw the pyre burst into flames

“Y/n. Did you hear me what happened?”

Something about Janes tone made you snap “It’s none of your business Jane. Move I have to go see Aro.”

The sharpness in your voice stunned her, you out of all people had never raised your voice at her, for most it was out of fear. You just never saw her as the infamous witch twin. She couldn’t help wonder if her usual cold demeanor had finally pushed you away

You hadn’t gone back to your shared room, Jane grew worried and went to speak with Aro. While he may have paused he also has a hard time telling Jane no so he spilled about your horrible day. Aro also informed her that you’d be in one of the spare rooms that overlooked Volterra

She flinched when you told her to leave you alone. Only realizing more and more how close it must have been. She came next to you and wrapped her arms around you

You fought for a little bit before the touch began to bring tears to your eyes. Soon she was rubbing your back as you quietly sobbed into her shoulder. Jane said nothing only shushing but o try and calm you down. You never have to actually talk about it she knows what a sensitive subject it is. And she makes sure everyone else has instructions to not bring it up either

Demetri

You are all dispatched to clear up a huge newborn army and we will make this one dramatic because… I can

You were all vastly outnumbered the twins couldn’t contain them in one area, they’d been trained for this

Regardless mental gifts were not doing much. You had all been trained. It was going well until you were chasing one of them and they happened to lead you to one of their friends who was hiding

It didn’t go well for you…you managed to get one of them down but the other managed to get behind you. The newborn strength outdoing your ability to get him off. You suddenly felt an excruciating pain from where your right arm should be. You saw Demetri find you before everything went black

If you had thought the initial pain was tough… it had nothing compared to the venom in your body trying to heal itself as Demetri ripped the attacker off of you before he could irreparable damage

You couldn’t help but scream as part of your neck healed itself. Demetri had finished off the other vampire but as he helped you with your arm his face froze

You did better this time gritting your teeth against the pain. As the scars formed and the pain subsided, embarrassment took its place. It was foolish to run off on your own. And you half expected Demetri to scold you for running off without him

The silence was deafening. Demetri was screaming inside wondering how you were and more so guilt ridden he hadn’t paid closer attention to you.

“Are you mad?” You finally asked him. This made him feel worse, he sighed as he tried to answer in a steady voice “only at myself mia cara.”

“It wasn’t your fault Dem.” You knew nothing you said would appease him. All he did was stare at your new scar running halfway through your arm a permanent reminder for both of you but while you looked at it in relief that you had made Demetri looked at as a failure on his part. His finger traced around it.

“We should go.” He choked out. The rest of the guard was filled in on the flight back. The twins thought the scars looked cool. Felix was silent, refusing to look at them just saying he was glad you were fine. He matched Demetris mood worrying about both of you.

After debriefing the kings who looked over you carefully, they excused you all to clean up and relax for the next few days. After you came out of the shower Demetri placed his hand on your cheek looking over for any other damage. He looked furious, his eyes were glassy.

“Demetri. I’m fine, really.” He brought you into him and growled low into your ear. “Don’t. Ever. Do that to me again.”

“I wasn—“ he interrupted you by pressing his lips against yours. “I. Will. Not. Lose. You. Again.” He said it in such a way that you were certain he would do anything in his power to prevent any of the events of today from repeating itself

Felix

God this is taking a lot more out of me than I thought sorry to you readers out there if this is a bit emotional thus far

This is another mission gone wrong, terribly wrong. The coven you had bent sent to investigate had a gifted member with a twisted desire and enjoyment of inflicting pain. She Jane a run for her money. She used her gift to prove a point this vampire was sadistic and her gift…it scared even the twins upon seeing it

His coven was causing attention, running everywhere they went and leaving humans dead in the middle of the day. They all convened around an abandoned building that was supposed to be demolished. This vampires coven had gone down easily. Too easily, and the vampire they actually cared about was definitely there but unmoving in their room. Unafraid if whatever was coming to them

The five of you (Demetri, Felix, and the twins) walked into the room carefully. The guy was a creep and probably had been in real life. Before Anyone even had a chance of negotiating something for Aro, he outstretched his hands and pulled you and Jane forward

“Before any of you try and kill me.” He grinned maliciously, “come any closer and both of these two lovely females are done.”

Felix is freaking out, you were non negotiable in his eyes. But he could tell the guy wasn’t bluffing. You and Jane were suspended midair, cracks forming on both of your faces like a weathered porcelain doll

He was going to suffocate the two of you until the cracks spread throughout your entire background and you were both going several people to put all of you back together. You didn’t even know it was possible for your kind to suffocate, then again Alec’s gift had a similar effect

Alec was freaking out himself. His gift would take too long and would be too obvious he couldn’t risk either of their lives. Demetri began taunting him. Felix growled at him in warning before Demetri shot him a look, while Felix understood he had to trust him, seeing his mate and being unable to do anything killed him.

Demetri continued. Telling him how a guy who picks out the two smallest vampires must not actually be very strong. Otherwise he would have taken himself and Felix. Alec began to understand slowly circling him and Felix followed, forcing the vampire to look back and forth between the three of them, positioning Alec behind him.

The guy was becoming unhinged as he tried to prove how strong he was to Demetri. His monologue continued and Alec began trying to extend his gift as fast as he could, the other vampire turned around dropping Jane and focusing and trying to focus on Alec. Demetri was expecting this and had moved close enough to quickly finish their mission. Felix and Alec respectively rushed to their loved one.

You were both struggling to get your breath as if the guys gift had long lasting side effects. Felix gently crouches next to you, effectively leaving him vulnerable while shielding you from anyone other possible attackers

Thankfully no one else was around. When you finally could catch a breath and not need it again. You noticed how you had brought your knees to your chest, but still leaning into Felix. While Alec had more or less led Jane out in her trance Felix had stayed with you. Rubbing your back and whispering ‘you’re okay.’ Both to you and himself

“Felix?”

“Oh thank God.” You almost clawed at him in the rush to hug him. He refused let go of you until he felt you calm down. He had sent Demetri back when he had come to check on you. The two of you would take your time going back. If you even wanted that. Which of course you did. You just needed some time to readjust how you went about missions. Especially when scouting more gifted vampires

When you guys do make it back, the two of you go straight to your quarters. Felix laying next to you and tracing all the areas where he seen the cracks. He knew even though you could be put back together, what you went through could affect you for a long time afterwards. He knew all too well.

He had made sure to train you well in protecting yourself physically. You’d been trained harder than most but he couldn’t do anything against mental gifts, and he had hoped your gifts wouldn’t have been so important on missions. He hated how he couldn’t do more for you and it was evident as he stared at you, worry etched on your face

Felix becomes more overprotective over you than ever.  Unnecessarily taking down any vampire who even slightly passed as a threat. The leaders didn’t mind it made him more effective but they knew where his loyalties would lie if something bigger ever occurred. They debated talking to him about it but Athenadora shut that idea down quickly.

Heidi

Poor Heidi, you have to be gifted in this case because otherwise I’m sure she keeps you out of trouble

So she has no control over anything that goes on during missions

You’ve had to sugarcoat some of the more dangerous ones before, but after you were almost unalived trying to help one of the twins she’s been updated by text courtesy of Demetri

Heidi is flipping her shit, Demetris vague text does not help he just says you’re shaken up

Heidi is not one for violence but until you come home anyone who talks to her is getting attacked viciously. The leaders try to calm her but she’s so upset even they have to reassure her you will not be leaving for awhile before shes satisfied

She’s not losing anyone else

You come home and you’ve had a little time to gather yourself but when Heidi rushes to hug you, you almost break down. You can hear her yelling at the guard but it’s probably best you didn’t make everything out because she had some venom in her words

You’re going to make her apologize later but they all know how protective she is of you. She takes you away and babies you until you’re ready to talk

Hates that you have to go back out but understands you have a job too.

I apologize Heidi’s is so short but it’s all I got for her 😭

[pencilscratchins]

please tell me every bit of ds9 drama

oh theres simply too much to cover in one post, so i will limit myself to spreading the legend of Andrew Robinson's fan fiction

So; it's the mid 90's and known character actor Andrew Robinson was just cast as Garak on Deep Space Nine: a one off character, intended to have a single episode in season one. Cut to 1999 its the final season of the show and Garak gets a special send off as a fan favorite recurring character in the shows final moments. How did that happen? Well, the short answer is: Andrew Robinson is bonkers and I'm obsessed with him.

Okay so in order to frame this, you have to know that Andy Robinson? is an ActOUR okay? he is like a well and true, trained classical performer and as such, he would often approach roles (regardless of size) with complete conviction. Garak was no different. He practiced a technique that a lot of older actors would use. Andy wrote a journal from the perspective of Garak to get a feel for the character before he even APPEARED on the show! Andy literally wrote over 200 words of extremely detailed backstory for Garak. Again, NOBODY ASKED HIM TO DO THIS. BUT he showed up to the DS9 writers room with this CHARACTER BIBLE of his gay lizard OC and said "hey i wrote all of this about this one off character that you tricked me into playing because I originally auditioned for Odo, didn't get it, and pressured me with money to appear as Garak (story for another time)," and it was all SO GOOD and the writers loved it so much that they literally couldnt help but keep him on the show. (also, clearly, the writers loved his performance and audiences loved the character, so there was a lot of support of keeping him on the show but really: its all because Andy put his whole ass into this show LMAOO)

Garak's backstory as written by Andy was hugely influential in how his character would later be developed and tons of ideas that Andy wrote about became real canon for the character; and he later expanded the bible into a longer story which would be published in 2000 in the novel "A Stitch in Time."

BUT THIS ISN'T THE END OF ANDY'S WRITING! as the show continued and Garak's popularity grew, Andy became a super popular guest at cons. Clearly a talented writer, Andy would (in his free time) write one shots of Garak's pre DS9 life and inner thoughts on the station, and READ THEM ALOUD AT CONS! While I can't vouch to any of these stories being explicitly Garak/Bashir romantic in nature (though if you attended any of these cons and have more info, please share it) Andrew's writing became a thing of legend. In fact, he and Siddig (who is a gem) actually cowrote a play called "The Dream Box" about Garak and Bashir that they would act out at cons! INSANE! (needless to say, this was less than thrilling to the infamously homophobic producer of 90's trek, Rick Berman who was vocally against Garashir and didn't like Andy very much at all)

In a truly incredible move, Andy and Sid's regard for fan fic was again shown this past year when the two of them teamed up to perform two fics over zoom, vocally supporting fandom creators and reiterating their love of Garashir as a ship.

[fiction-box]

So I just noticed your most recent request (the Felix/Sylvain learning magic one). I was wondering if I could see the reverse? But like not taking place in the same story, if that makes sense. Like the reader (I'd prefer a male one) wanting to learn how to wield physical weapons to protect himself better so he asks Felix and/or Sylvain for help, maybe Ashe for bows as well cause he's a cinnamon roll

As stated in my rules, I only do two characters per request. From the way your ask is written, I prioritized Felix and Sylvain. If you like it, though, then please feel free to send in a separate ask for Ashe! I do this for time reasons and to spice things up (writing 3 fics back-to-back with the same concept without a break is a little draining.).

But aside from that, I'm glad you liked the other one! I have fallen in love with your concept just as much, but my goodness! This took me far longer to complete than I am happy to admit. I am aware that my main issue was synthesizing your request to a male reader, as I find them a little difficult to write for.

Regardless, I want you to love what I came up with! Requests are open, everyone, so don't be shy!

The stories will be continued under the cut.

Felix:

As you pushed open the doors to the training grounds, you weren’t surprised to find the expansive room was almost empty. The afternoon had turned to night, and most of your classmates were either wrapping up in the dining hall or preparing to rest.

Most of them.

"Training again, Felix?"

The blue-haired noble didn’t break his routine, cutting through the training dummies with the precision of a master. It wasn’t hard to admit that his skills were impressive for his age. Truly, the metal seemed to be a natural extension of his own arm.

"What?” he called, “Have you come to drag me elsewhere?"

"Actually, I was hoping I could spar with you."

At this, Felix dropped his sword arm to his side. He turned to you, raising a brow.

“Aren’t you usually preparing for bed at this time? You know that a quick skirmish isn’t going to chase me out of here any sooner, and I’m not about to waste my time with someone who isn’t at the top of their game.”

You let out a laugh, “Trust me, sleep is the last thing on my mind.”

It wasn’t quite true, you were definitely a little tired. Sleep wasn’t an option right now, though. You knew you needed to be here, but as soon as you entered the room, you forgot what you came for. That seemed to be happening a lot lately.

It has something to do with Felix, was all you remembered. Useful, as it meant you could keep him here until your memory returned. You hoped it would soon, lest you spend half the night with your feet on the ground.

“What are you waiting on, a map?” He began to move the practice dummy he had previously created a considerable dent in, “Go grab a weapon, unless you intend to fight with your fists.”

Migrating to the rack by the wall, you picked up an axe that looked as though it were in better condition than those around it.

Wrong. It has something to do with this. The axe is wrong.

Great. This was like trying to solve a puzzle whose final picture was blank. The answer was literally right in front of you, you could swear it! But then what were you meant to fight him with? A lance? You didn’t know how to use too many of the weapons within your line of sigh-

“You’ve been staring at that axe for about a minute now. Are you sure you’re not tired?”

Walking back towards him, your focus was entirely on the hatchet in your hand, “I swear, I’m not. I just…nevermind. Let’s do this.”

“Good, just don’t let it get in the way of our training,” the swordsman approached you, already pulling out a coin from his pocket.

“Oh don’t worry, you’re still getting your ass kicked. I call heads, by the way.”

The question in Felix’s eyes left him at your last remark. The coin was flipped, and sure enough, it landed on heads. You would be the first to attack, leaving Felix to begin in a defensive stance.

Both of you moved a few paces away from one another. The axe was familiar in your hands, but it felt wrong tonight as you placed your grip on the wooden base. This was an easy problem to overcome, you knew, as a simple feeling couldn’t detriment your performance too much. Still…

“Ready.” you nodded.

Felix echoed your confirmation once he had taken a more athletic pose, and the first bout began.

You charged forward, a plan in your head as you swung your axe over your head and down onto Felix. He leapt back, then changed his momentum towards you. The blade of his sword slashed once, then twice as you dodged backwards both times. The blade of your own weapon was still on the ground where it had landed earlier, your grip on the pole keeping it exactly where you wanted it to be.

Once more you rushed at him, only this time, you spun the blade 180 degrees on the floor and brought it up and forward. With your momentum charging the upsweep of the wooden blade, Felix didn’t have the time to dodge out of the way. It clipped him in the arm, where his shoulder was attached to it.

“Point,” he called.

Wordlessly, you walked past each other to switch positions. It was your turn to defend from his assault.

“Ready.”

“Ready.”

You didn’t have time to get a full breath in before Felix came forward. He copied your first movement, cutting downward as you chose to defend with the pole of your axe. Successfully blocking his attack, you pushed him back by thrusting the pole that had halted his sword outward.

Unfortunately, he caught his balance before you did. His fast impulse let him drive his sword forward into your chest. Your inability to lower your axe and reset into an athletic stance left you off your center.

His sword struck true, though you could sense he had let up enough of his momentum so as not to knock you over at its poke.

“Point,” you stated.

By the goddess, point you idiot!

Finally, you remembered! Bringing your hatchet with you back to the weapon rack, you exchanged it for a wooden sword hanging on the metal stand.

This did not go unnoticed by Felix.

“...”

“...something wro-?”

“Are you mocking me?” he questioned. The face of the future Duke had contorted into one of disgust.

“No, not at all! This is what was nagging me since I entered. I’m meant to take the certification exam for the Hero class in a few days, though I’m nowhere near ready. I know my way with an axe, but my skills with the sword could use some work. I’ve attended a couple of seminars, so I came here tonight in hopes of actually practicing,” you assured him.

“A smart idea. You can only learn so much without practical application,” he agreed. “You’re not going to get anywhere holding it like that, though.”

Swiftly, Felix closed the distance between you, “Hold your sword out.”

You did so, paying close attention as he adjusted your grip. It felt more natural already.

“Since your main weapon will be the axe, I doubt they’ll care too much about how you attack with it. Just as long as you can block, defend, and dodge effectively, you’ll pass. It takes a certain level of skill to do even that, though.”

“Right.”

He took a few steps back, and you immediately recognized his offensive pose, “I’ll take it easy on you these first few times; it’s more important that you work on applying your fundamentals, which you should have picked up from those seminars, than for you to adapt to countering my style. Ready when you are.”

“Alright. Ready.”

Most of the time, when he attacked, it was all about reading the angle of his sword and countering it appropriately. You were strong from your hatchet training, so sustaining the blocks was child's play. Switching the advantage came harder to you, though. To push back and then add a strike of your own was incredibly difficult while enforcing defenses.

It took a few rounds and a lot of bruises, but you eventually fell into better defensive habits with the sword. You were nowhere near Felix's level (even though you knew he was taking it easy on you, it felt like he was toying with you the whole time), but you found yourself much more assured in your base skillset.

"That's enough for tonight. It won’t do either of us any good if we keep sparring when we ought to sleep,” Felix commented, crossing the room and putting his wooden sword into a sheath that had been discarded on the ground.

A single, stark laugh left you, “Never thought I’d hear you of all people saying- Wait, that’s yours?”

“Is there a problem?”

“I just…didn’t think you’d have brought a wooden sword of all things.”

The swordsman raised a brow, then approached you, “Give me the one you’re holding.”

You did, easily. Then, when Felix took his own wooden blade from its casing, he held it out to you.

Taking it, a small wave of surprise washed over you once you realized it was weighted.

So this must be how he remained so agile when he used a real blade.

“What did I expect?” you traded weapons again. Then, you made your way to the rack on the wall to return your borrowed, glorified stick.

Sheathing it for the final time that night, Felix headed to the door while you were still messing around with fitting the sword back into its place.

Before he could leave, you made sure to call out to him. 

“Felix?” you watched his attention snap back to you. “Thanks. You know, for helping me figure this out.”

“Tch, we’ll need to work longer than just one night to fix all that.”

“Ouch. Feel free to lay it on gently, next time.”

“Then save your thanks for after you pass the exam. Besides, who said I was doing it just for you?” he turned to go once more, “Prepare yourself. When I’m done with you, you’ll be one hell of a training partner.”

The doors to the training grounds shut with a resounding echo. You sighed, finally fitting your sword onto the rack. Then, you walked the path back to your dorm.

But as your head made it to your pillow, sleep was hesitant to claim your racing thoughts. Felix’s last words to you were the promise of a trial by fire.

You hoped passing the exam would be worth the price of all the burns.

Sylvain:

“Hey, Sylvain. Mind if I borrow you for a sec?”

You dragged him away from his conversation, the two women he was talking to clearly having begun to turn hostile. You didn’t know what the philanderer had said to them, but you knew it wasn’t good if they were looking at him like that.

“Yeah, we might wanna go a little faster,” Sylvain recommended under his breath.

After some casual speed-walking, you both wound up outside the stables. Much to your chagrin, he actually seemed proud of himself. Some people just didn’t learn, you supposed.

“Thanks for getting me out of there. So, was there something you needed?”

“Yes, actually,” you chose to ignore that he believed you would pull him out of his own mess just to be nice, “I’m working on becoming a dark knight. I’ve got the magic part down, and I’m good enough at the equestrian portion to know I’ll pass. It’s the lance I really need help with.”

“So you came to me?” he laughed. “What, wouldn’t you rather have Dimitri or Ingrid training you? I’m no good-”

“Don’t even try it; you’re not worming your way out of this one. You’re far from last place in your lance skills and you know it. Besides, you owe me a favor.”

He raised a brow, “That still doesn’t explain why you chose me over Dimitri.”

“If it really matters that much to you, I can’t choose Dimitri. His crest supplies most of his strength, so I didn’t think he’d be the best fit for a teacher. Ingrid and Ashe would be okay, but they’re both out on a mission, right now.”

“So in other words, I'm your last pick.”

“Hey, I could’ve waited for them to return if I wanted. I’m in no rush to take the exam until I’m certain I’ll pass,” you countered.

“Then…I’m your first pick?”

You lowered your brows, “Get over yourself and help me.”

The two of you made your way down to the training grounds. On the way, Sylvain kept looking around as though he expected those two women to jump out at any moment.

“Relax. I doubt they’d go train of all things after that encounter. Your reputation might take a small hit, though.”

“You mean to suggest it’ll get worse than it already is?”

You conceded at that point. To tell the truth, you had no idea how Sylvain was still able to pick up women, what with the gossip and rumors attached to him.

Once the doors were shut behind you, Sylvain relaxed a bit more. He instructed you to grab a practice dummy and set it up in the middle of the area. However, once the job was done, the red-headed noble was nowhere to be seen.

I swear to the Goddess, if he ditched m-

A shout of surprise left your throat as you turned around to the sound of a loud thud behind you.

Sylvain laughed, “Woah, didn’t mean to scare you! Everything’s ready now.”

Looking to the ground, you identified a large wooden object in front of your training partner. It wasn’t there before, so it was probably what made the noise.

“Okay…?” you questioned, “What do we do with the battering ram?”

“Oh. That’s your new lance.”

That’s a funny joke. How the hell am I supposed to lift that thing?

You gave him a strange look, “You’re kidding, right?”

He stretched his arms out, resting them behind his neck, “Nope. That’s how my father made me train. He even got in contact with Rhea to make sure at least one of these would be here for me.”

“Seriously?”

You were beginning to have second thoughts about this whole thing, but you were the one that asked him for help. If he was willing to give it to you, you were taking it.

“Alright, then. What do I need to do?”

The Gautier heir picked up the ram with ease, walking over to the training dummy to demonstrate.

With him talking you through it, you pieced together that the plan was for you to stab with the ram, then swipe horizontally both ways before finally swiping vertically both ways. Each portion of the exercise was to be repeated twenty times.

“Go ahead, give it a try.”

Thudding on the ground once more when he set it down, the battering ram lied in wait as you approached it.

But even picking it up was a challenge. Both of your hands were on the same handle as you yanked upwards to no avail.

“Sylvain, there’s no way I can lift this.”

A huff of air left his nose in a chuckle, “Probably should’ve guessed that. No offense.”

“Don’t sweat it. That’s why I'm here, after all. Any other ideas?” you asked.

“No, no, this could work. Here, you take the back handle and I’ll hang onto the front.”

Together, you managed to lift it, though you were surprised at how much of the work you felt yourself doing.

Sylvain guided the direction of your swing while you did the actual movement. It was a pretty effective system, if you were in any position to say, and you could really feel it in your arms. Nonetheless, you refused to let up. The two of you went through the motions until all of the reps were finished. After your first set, however, a short break was in order.

“Of course, this won’t just be a one day thing. It’ll take a couple weekends to really get results. Feel free to let me know when you need help, and I’ll find time to make it down here to work with you,” he offered.

So it was. Over the next week, you both made it a habit to train with each other after lunch. Eventually, you were able to get through the routine without him. He would still be sure to make an appearance, but at this point, you weren’t exactly sure why.

Once you felt closer to ready, the two of you met up about three days before you were scheduled to take the exam. This time, Sylvain handed you one of the practice lances and instructed you to do the same exercise.

Immediately, you noticed an improvement. The motions were so much faster, and your hits had become so much stronger than before.

It seemed your “teacher” noticed it, too.

“Great, now let’s put it to some real use.”

Sylvain picked up a wooden lance of his own while you moved away from the training dummy.

“Go easy on me, yeah?” you laughed. “I’m not exactly used to this new strength, yet.”

“Don’t worry, my crest won’t activate during something like regular sparring.”

You noticed his defensive stance. He was prepared for you to attack.

Best not to keep him waiting.

Adjusting your grip, you made your way over to him. You moved your arm to act out a horizontal swiping motion, but you didn’t actually go through with it. Reading his backwards dodge easily, you didn’t let up on your charge until after he had caught his jump. Then, you used your momentum to poke forward.

“Agh-! Yup, that one’s definitely yours,” he grunted in suppressed pain, “My fault for anticipating, though.”

“You good to go again, or…?”

Sylvain plastered on a grin, “Nah, I’ll be fine. I can handle a little bruise.”

If he didn’t want to do anything about it, you certainly weren’t going to force him anywhere. Round two it was.

This time, you both went back and forth for a bit until the poles of your lances were locked in a stalemate. You were so focused that you didn’t notice Sylvain stick his leg out until he had swept your feet from beneath you.

Thinking fast (as mages always did to avoid getting hit), you used the energy of falling to create the momentum that allowed you to roll away from him. Getting up fast was going to be the key to winning this bout.

Not a second too soon, you were on your feet and swinging your lace around your body until it halted just before hitting Sylvain’s side, who was still running toward you. He noticed immediately and stopped his advance.

“That’s your point, too. A bit unconventional, and I have no idea how you’ll recreate that on a test…”

“Well there’s no way I can control what happens on the test, right? If it’s just sparring, then sparring practice is the best I can do.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Sylvain said matter-of-factly. “One more, or should we call it a day?”

You recalled how you jabbed at him square in the chest during your first bout, and then how you just barely managed to avoid hitting him in the second.

“I’m good,” you nodded. “I’m a bit tired today. Besides, there’s always tomorrow.”

“Sure. Well then, see you here again tomorrow.”

He left you behind to clean everything up, but you didn’t blame him. He probably would have given away how bad his injury was if he tried to bend over anyway. Classic Sylvain, who could never manage to fool anyone but himself.

Placing the lances back where they were meant to be stored, your thoughts turned to the future. The exam that had once felt like a huge barrier now looked merely like a step on a staircase. You knew you had Sylvain to thank for that.

Maybe you’d get to it eventually, but for now, you’d stick to showing your thanks in other ways. Whether he noticed it or not.

[girlwithwolftatoo]

hello!

i just saw that you take requests! (And I hope they are open rn lmao)

I don't really know a lot of people who write for Arthur so im very happy rn!

So could I please request an Arthur Harrow x Female Reader?

I just thought about an fluff / angst fic which the reader tells arthur that she got daddy issues and she's afraid bc a lot of people made fun of her about it and in the end she just wants a person that is like a 'caregiver' to her?

I'm not an expert in explaining things so I hope you understand what I mean.

I just think that the whole 'Daddy Issues' thing is way more than a lot of people think.

And i just felt insecured about it bc people made a lot of fun about me sooo i would be happy with some arthur who is comforting :)

I hope you are okay with writing something like that and If not, im really sorry for the ask :/

Hope u have a great day tho!

Soooo here it is! Ended up being a little longer than expected but I think we needed some good context for this one.

Where is the shepherd for this lost lamb?

Warnings: family ab*use, viol*ence.

It was customary that when a member of the community was marked with the scales, a small celebration was held in their honor, nothing fancy or extravagant, but it meant a lot to the newcomer, that regardless of their age or how long they had been among them, they could now be considered a chosen one, an enlightened one who would live to heal the world. So, when a rush of people caught up with Harrow to show him that a girl younger than you had gotten her mark, you felt your soul leave your body.

Arthur was proud, hugged the girl warmly and congratulated her on being blessed by their goddess. You smiled, your body dirty with dirt from having been weeding some planters and a freshly healed cut, and you applauded just like the others. You should have felt happy, they were all like a family, a village where the achievement of one was the glory of all, but in reality, your eyes stung and your mouth tasted bitter.

You were not going to ruin that girl's party, so you left early, only after a hurried dinner. Like other people who had no family within the community, you had a room of your own in one of the buildings, but as soon as you entered you kicked a small table so hard you almost knocked it over, and then started shaking.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid" you repeated as you pulled your hair. You went to the bathroom, even though there was no one else in the house, and locked yourself in to cry out your frustration. 

Maybe you were wrong about yourself, you thought as you rubbed your face so hard that your eyes became irritated. Maybe Arthur had been too compassionate with you by letting you join them, really good people, with a promising future... When had you ever had such a thing? Hadn't you already learned it many years ago?

"(Y/N), I am a woman. I have my own desires, my own impulses... now that you are older, I can accept it without feeling that I am unfair to you" was what your mother said when you were thirteen and you found out by chance that she was dating a man. You were happy for her, but there was something empty in your chest that grew when, only a year later, you learned that they would have a child together.

"Why don't you spend a few days with your father?" she questioned you, the afternoon she had to go for you to the principal's office because you were found smoking in the bathroom "You haven't talked to him for weeks" She was wrong, it was months "I understand that you feel pressured with the new baby, but he is your brother, you will love him when everything passes, you don't have to be unfair".

You saw the little one in his crib and you were sorry you didn't feel the great love that your mother assured you should feel. That rosy face was sweet, yet every time you stretched out your hand to caress him, you regretted it, and fled like a criminal. The only safe place in that house was a hole in the wall that had been intended for a closet, and you ran your hands over the old scribbles you made on the wall for years, when you pretended not to hear the screams and cries.

"What's wrong with you, (Y/N)? Is it some teenage thing I don't understand or are you throwing a tantrum? You've never been like this before. I'll call your father to-"

"I don't have a father," you finally blurted out. Your mother looked pale, she had had to pick you up from the police station for an altercation at a party, and you still had dried blood on your blouse.

"How can you say that?" she asked you with tears in her eyes.

"Because it's the truth, Mom" your lower lip trembled, you couldn't stand to see her cry, when she did, you remembered those intense, horrible weeks leading up to the divorce, where she would spend her time crying and making soup, and crying again, while he angrily reminded her that he had two families to watch over and that she was a mess. You had survived by laying low, but you knew what was coming by then, and the only thing you regretted was that it hadn't happened faster.

"I'm not going to let you throw your future away like this because of your tantrums. Albert came with me, he's outside waiting for us and he helped me with your bail, at least apologize to him..."

"Why, did I make him mad?" you snorted under your breath, with a sarcastic grimace. 

"He wouldn't have to go through this..."

"I know, I'm not his daughter."

"I didn't say that."

"But it's true, isn't it? Al's a nice guy, but honestly... I'm left over between you."

You were unnecessary everywhere, you were a blind spot, an uncomfortable lump that occasionally got in the way. You knew it since your father started forgetting your birthday, since you saw his networks flooded with pictures of him with his new family, since that time when you met him by accident in the street and, rather than admit you were his daughter to a co-worker, he preferred that idiot to think disgusting things about you. 

"Stop it!" your mother's hands hit the table. You didn't even flinch, it seemed as if your feelings were buried in a place you couldn't reach "You're ungrateful! All we've done for you, all the patience we've had! Do you know how many times I hated picking up the phone and talking to your father?"

"I never wanted you to" you answered in a hoarse voice "I told you many times that he had left us, Mom, but you wouldn't listen. You wanted me to keep talking to him...for what, mom? He never wanted us"

"Don't say such things!"

"But it's the truth! Why did you always force me to keep looking for him, uh? What did you want to achieve?"

"I wanted you to have a father so that you weren't going to be...!" the words seemed to pile up on her. You saw in her eyes the fire of resentment, of the anguish she could never release, the fear that her perfect world would fall apart again. She was fragile. Fortunately you were not.

The night before your eighteenth birthday you showed up at the building where your father lived. He owned a rich penthouse where he spent much of his time, life was smiling on him and he could afford to live apart from his second family as well, with whom he nevertheless got along much better than he ever could with you. You circumvented security, wrote "FUCK YOU SHIT DADDY" on the door and smashed a bottle of cheap alcohol against it to set it on fire. You knew the incident would not get very far thanks to the fire alarms, but that childish revenge that was like a rite of passage into the gritty life that awaited you made you immensely happy.

For a few weeks you were living anywhere, London had some shelters where you would arrive and spend most of the day, and at night, in the company of certain people you couldn't exactly consider friends, you would hang around the crowded areas looking to pick up a few pounds from drunken partygoers that would eventually be spent on alcohol, cigarettes and junk food.

Murphy's law was not long in coming, and one of those nights things went wrong. One of your colleagues picked the wrong victim, and you saw him fall after the devastating blow of a cricket bat. Almost everyone abandoned the boy, who was bleeding profusely and screaming for forgiveness, but you stood by, transfixed, looking for some way to help him. The bully with the bat took a second swing at him, and from your companion's cry of pain you knew he had broken his leg.

"Stop!" you stepped forward, terrified. The guy was tall and stocky, whatever he had taken had made him more aggressive.

"Are you with him?" he exclaimed, coming at you "Answer me, you bloody rat!"

You narrowly dodged the first blow, and the enraged guy lashed out at you with his fist. A dull, throbbing pain told you that he had just connected with your face, and you staggered before managing to grab hold of a trash can. A hand grabbed you by the hair and you were thrown to the ground, unable even to scream as the blow knocked the air from your lungs. The cricket bat clattered beside you, teasing.

"Did ya think ya'll were gonna rob me?" you heard it, mocking and rabid "Did ya'll think so? I'm gonna break every goddamn bone in your bodies!"

A foot landed right in the middle of your back, making you squeal. You hadn't thought much about death ever, it seemed to you something mysterious and quiet that appeared suddenly to certain people, people who enjoyed life generally, and you didn't. And so it was then, you were going to die but that meant nothing, you had no future, and the past was too horrible to treasure. You were a rotten fruit, and now someone would finally pluck you from the tree.

"Wait! You don't want to do this, believe me"

The voice that spoke was different, low, slow. You heard your attacker snort, at the climax of his bloodlust. You dared to raise your head a little, and saw a pair of feet a few steps away advancing towards you, shod in simple leather sandals.

"Get out of here, old man!" shouted the guy with the bat.

"You want to get blood on your hands without even knowing if it's the right thing to do?" 

"They were going to rob me! Are you going to defend this scum?"

"You don't want to hurt them, you're scared..."

"I'm not scared!" the guy brandished his bat, threatening the stranger with it. "Get away, get out of the way!"

The other man was still approaching, he was leaning on a cane that gleamed silver. Since the guy had taken his foot and his attention away from you, you could see better what was going on.

"True justice does not seek to indulge in suffering" the stranger held out his hands, as if seeking to embrace his enemy "A better world is coming..."

" You' re crazy!" 

The guy swung his bat, but it collided with the newcomer's cane. The bat got caught in the grip of the cane, and then, the man wielding it reached out his free hand and grabbed the other by one wrist.

"It's a pity," he whispered. The eyes of the guy with the bat popped out of their sockets, and seconds later... something big and heavy fell behind you. Some new footsteps came closer and you saw some silhouettes approaching "Take care of the other boy, please."

The man with the cane then laid his attention on you. You were trembling, your face was bloodstained and you had several scrapes where the skin was unprotected, and the stranger, helping himself with the cane, knelt down and held your face by the chin. He had long blond hair, with silver highlights here and there, and his eyes were a stunning blue.

Then you remembered why you were there, and you felt fear. Your eyes went to the staff, which had two crocodile heads carved on it.

"You're scared, I understand" he whispered "But you have nothing to fear for tonight."

Adrenaline brought the first tears, which stung as they touched the bleeding parts of your face. The man was still looking at you, and that made you uneasy as well as fascinated, you didn't remember anyone had ever seen you like that.

"Thank you" you whispered with great sincerity. The man smiled, and gently, so as not to hurt you any more, wiped away a tear with his thumb.

"What is your name, my dear?"

"(Y/N), just (Y/N)."

"Would you like to come with us?"

You frowned, confused. That's when you noticed that, around you and your colleague, who had passed out, at least half a dozen people were gathered.

That night you met Arthur Harrow and his community. That night you had died and been reborn, and you saw before you a hope and a second chance.

But perhaps you had been too lenient. Perhaps, you thought when you could no longer see straight after so many minutes of crying, you really should have died.

"Here you were." 

You barely  reacted when the door opened, but you realized that the one who had arrived was Arthur. Embarrassed, you hid your face in your knees.

"Please let me" you asked in a choked voice. Arthur sat down beside you, sympathetic as always, and busied himself stroking the crocodile heads on his cane.

"Perhaps others refuse to accept that in every garden there are spiders" he commented "but the bad times are just as important as the ones that are good. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

If you felt bad before, it was worse now. 

"I'm so sorry" you stammered, sniffling through your nose "I didn't mean to...really forgive me."

"You think I'm mad at you, (Y/N)?" Arthur turned so he could look at you, and you felt his hand reach for yours "Why do you think you're unworthy? Does it mean that much to you that Ammit hasn't pointed you out yet?"

You knew there was something unique about that community, something that eliminated it from the cult of madmen trope, but when you thought of Ammit it was as distant to you as any other god, it was possible you would never even get to meet her in person. No, it wasn't because of Ammit.

"I did a lot of bad things... I don't justify them" you explained. Arthur's hand was still holding yours "I always hated my father, for what he did to mom... but I also abandoned her... I'm a bad daughter, how could I be a good person? The night we met I was really trying to rob that guy, my friend had better luck than me, I guess, because he died"

"Give me your hands" Arthur demanded nonchalantly. You obeyed him immediately, you felt that that was the least you could do "You know very well how the scales work, your fears and insecurities cloud your judgement, could you accept that of our goddess?"

You let him place the crocodile heads on your wrists, Arthur looked at the scale on his forearm, but you only looked at him. You didn't care about the outcome, you knew it beforehand, but in that darkness that would have shattered others you found your own light. Harrow had saved your life, and it was he who was to take it from you.

The blue eyes went to yours, undecipherable.

"Your heart is wounded," he said, and put away the cane "It is not evil that nests in you, but immense sorrow. You were abandoned at the moment when you most needed to be protected, and you lost your way."

So many times you had boasted that neither of your parents made the slightest effort to look for you when you disappeared, that now you didn't understand why that made you cry. Arthur took you in his arms, holding you close to him, and you clung to his shoulders.

"All I want" you sobbed "is for someone to care about me, to believe that I am enough."

"You are enough" Arthur murmured, stroking your head "And I care about you very much"

"But I wish you cared only about me"

That confession was so sudden that it took you a few seconds to realize what you said.

"I'm sorry." 

Harrow took your face in his hands, smiling at you. You on the other hand felt your face burning with embarrassment.

"Is that what's wrong?" he asked.

"No, I... sorry, it's not right..."

"(Y/N), desiring things is not a sin. If to heal your heart you need a little more from me, I will gladly do it."

You hugged him again. Your sorrows and worries seemed to have disappeared with your tears.

"I love you, Arthur."

"I love you too, my dearest."