#this post ghost written by sleep deprivation

[jessamine-rose]

Aaaahhhh Navina!! Thank you so much for the continuation. I loved everything about it <3

Ngl reading it makes me want to extend Boss’s misery and delay their happy ending HAHAHA. Ironically, a “loveless” marriage is the closest thing to an expression of love from Darling….for now. Perhaps someday, she’ll give Boss some peace of mind but not today ψ(｀∇´)ψ

So I ended up fast forwarding a bit and writing this drabble for Boss x Friend! Darling……ahahaha I hope you all enjoy this scenario >:’3

Note:: All Boss x Friend! Darling stories take place in the AU where Boss wins in One Last Call

-

There is no romantic proposal.

But that is fine for a “marriage of convenience.”Rather than an emotional proposal in a special place, the two of them are just signing legal documents in Darling’s home.

Aside from the marriage contract, there are many things to discuss—ring designs, living arrangements, cover story for their coworkers, whether or not they’ll have a wedding. The whole time, Darling acts serious and meticulous; it’s a side of her that Boss doesn’t see often.

Then again, he expects nothing less from a senior manager of Celestia Inc.

If things went his way, this marriage would be “real.” Alas, Darling still refuses to give her heart to him, hence why Boss is yielding to her terms. It doesn’t mean that he has given up, though.

Now that they’re married, he will have more opportunities to win her over emotionally. And thanks to this agreement, no one else will pursue Darling or judge them for their previously single status.

“And that’s it.” Darling signs the prenup and looks up to face him. “Here’s to our shared future. Let’s hope you don’t do anything to make me regret this decision.”

“I could say the same,” he shoots back. “I can only imagine the many ways you will test my patience moving forward.”

Not that he dislikes it. By now, the both of them know that Darling has him wrapped about her finger. It’s funny, really—in his desire to control her, he is controlled by his desire for her.

“If you are going to blame anyone later on,” he continues, “it should be yourself for forcing my hand to begin with.”

“Now, now.” At that, Darling’s lips curve into a familiar smile. Her next words sound better than any yes or I do. “Don’t be so mean to your wife~”

Now all that’s left to own is her heart.

-

And they lived happily ever after—jk it will still take months/ years for Boss to make Darling say “I love you” to him. At least he gets a partial victory in another universe xD

I still have more ideas for what happens in Boss x Friend! Darling’s relationship before they reach this point, and aahhhh I can’t wait to make Boss even more of an asshole + boyfailure <3

I hope you don't mind that I did a small continuation to fuel the thoughts of making him a boyfailure btw LMAOOOO

It should've been a loveless marriage.

It should have. That should've been what was expected from the two of them.

And yet, as he found himself one night, years past their first day in being 'married', he found himself unable to put focus on such a thing. To remember that, in a way, this isn't what he could bargain for in the long run.

It was a night like no other. A peaceful, idyllic one, if not for her back turned to him. And his turned back to her as well, for the sake of personal space.

Husband and wife, turning themselves against each other. Such a record, he found himself thinking, but he couldn't bring himself to say yet another word.

Boss— no, Alexander— often had troubles in his mind. Even as the Boss of one of the partner companies of Celestia Inc., the one that focuses on MixMatch as a whole and running his own shady business below, he still found himself thinking through the night.

It left him to stay up, unable to get a wink of rest. And he despised the thought.

Normally, he would find himself able to relax and sleep after 4 hours. He was an insomniac, but nothing that couldn't be solved if he idled long enough with nothing in his mind. Although, as he found out, this was not what he had hoped to occur.

Not with her.

After a while of idling and praying to Gods above to help him sleep to no avail, he turned his body to face her back. He could hear her breathing, even when they're not too close to do such a thing, and his hand quietly reached over to grab hers.

He isn't fond of vulnerability. He's never fond of thinking he should be... Open to someone without thinking they'd stab you on the back.

He hates it. Loathes it to the very core of his being. He couldn't fathom of how people can trust those that could bring them harm, that could simply ruin them if they so much as tried to put their trust and get in fights with them.

But as he held her hand, he felt his shoulders relax. He felt his body lose its tension.

... He's such a fool, he thinks. Just how badly must he crave for someone who'd never love him, when he, himself, can never bring the same commitment?

Maybe it was a curse. A poison he willingly drank, foolishly thinking that no one would catch his eye.

He knew his days were numbered, but in such a night like this, he found himself thinking that it wouldn't be so bad.

He's grown softer. Cordial. Over the years he spent with her, his walls weathered down and became nothing but mere wooden remains. He even found himself thinking that he could simply be laid to rest, and he'd be happy, so as long she remains by his side.

But he will never say that to her.

His pride, his ego, his mind will never let him.

He can cry in anguish all he wants, and truly, he could— but he knew that the day they were together, it will always remain this way.

It was unrequited from the beginning. Maybe he's deluded himself so much into thinking he's had a chance, but he isn't stupid.

So, for now, he will cherish the littlest things he gets from her. He'll cherish the only thing she's allowed him to get.

Her heart will be a grandeur treasure he'd take and never return, but he's content in the time they spent together. In a bit of an irony, he found himself thinking that their time was worth more than just an organ.

After all, what use is a heart if it stopped beating?

Will there be use of an organ when the memories will be the thing left beating?

He didn't knew. No one else knew.

And for once, that left him in a stupor.

Perhaps he can think about this some other time.

Not when he has her in his hand, just like tonight.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Shining Din Djarin x Female Reader

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: You want Mando to make you shine. Warnings: Smut, oral (m receiving), exhibitionism (you let Din watch you masturbate), p in v sex, creampie (reader has an implant), light sub/dom vibes, Din gets handcuffed by his own binders, sensory deprivation with the help of Din's helmet. Words: 3,735 A/N: This idea has been dancing around in my head for the past week, thanks to @frannyzooey for her thot night post and kind motivation. Also, shout out to "Ghost In The Machine" by SZA. I dunno man, this is the first time I've ever written Din and wow, he was fun.

Masterlist

Mandalorians want for nothing, so why did he want you so bad? 

Months of you joining him on his hunts, a damned demand of Karga. “She’s young and capable, she’ll be good for my little friend to have someone else to take care of him. I won’t take no, you owe me.” 

Your little trinkets taking up precious cargo in his small ship, your pretty face always shining through the display tempting him to give it all up just for a glimpse of the color of your soft skin, your beautiful body keeping him up and frustrated at night while you sleep soundly on the cot you insisted you needed. The only reason why he caved is because he was tired of you sneaking into his pod and leaving his blankets smelling like you. 

The kid, the damn kid loves you, adores you. He’s pretty sure he loves you more than he loves him. The way you talk to him with your sweet voice, the way you run over to him whenever he lets out a frustrated cry, the way his kid looks held in your arms as you soothe him.

He was frustrated, he was at his breaking point. You’re so beautiful and so delicate and yet you call him out on his shit, you keep him in line. He’s never wanted anybody like he wants you.

He hated facing you after stepping out of the fresher, always feeling like you can look behind the beskar he’s covered in. Like you know he just came on the shower wall imagining the cold, flat metal is the warm, silky skin of your tits. 

Tonight, in the middle of nowhere on this backwater planet, you trounce around the fire in your gauze sleep gown, smiling and laughing as the kid chases you. You look like an angel, lit by the flames licking across your skin casting your body in a deep amber glow. He tries to focus on the gun he’s cleaning to keep his attention off of you but he can’t stop staring. He counts the minutes until it’s the kid’s bedtime. He has to do something about this, either he needs to take you back home or he needs to feel how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock. Taking you home would be easier. 

——

“Well, that didn’t take long,” you say, leaning against the opening of the ship. 

He nods at you, his helmet still downcast focused on cleaning his armor. He’s gotten used to you obviously, he’ll at least remove a piece of armor in front of you. Never the helmet, you understand that, but seeing him without his usual chest piece makes you so wet he might as well be fully naked.

You’re going mad, the Crest isn’t a big ship and he’s a big man. If you have to feel the cool touch of beskar against your skin as you move past him one more time you just might explode. 

You’re used to getting what you want, you’re smart, you’re clever, you’re resolute. Like Karga always tells you, “you have spunk kid, nobody will ever be able to tell you no.” That’s why you put the white nightgown on, he might be wearing a helmet, but you can always tell just how much he likes what you’re wearing by how hard you feel his stare behind that faceless mask, you really feel it whenever you wear this. 

“He’s tired,” you walk down the ramp, “I think all I did today was play with him, don’t know why he needed so much attention.” 

“He knows you’ll always give him it.”

“Really?” You roll your eyes as you sit across the fire from him. “At least he’ll sleep through the night, you’re welcome by the way.” 

“Hm,” he nods, still preoccupied by shining his armor. 

“Think it’s shiny enough, big guy?” You lean over, your hands resting on your knees, the neckline of your dress dipping farther down as you lean forward to look at him above the fire.

“Just about,” he’s rubbing his chest plate harder and faster… you know he’s avoiding looking over at you. 

“I love how your armor reflects the flames,” your voice coming out lower and huskier. “I love being able to watch the fire burn on your chest, like your heart’s been set aflame.”

His hand pauses, the cloth he was using sits idle against the metal. His helmet tilts up, you feel his eyes back on you. 

“Is it shiny enough for me to see that now?” 

A single nod before he lifts his armor over his head and attaches it. “I can see,” you whisper.

He stares forward, his eyes are on you, something has shifted in the air of this small circle around the fire.

You lean even more forward, the plush of your breasts almost spilling out of your dress. You watch his chest rise as he takes a deep breath in. 

“I wish I could shine like you,” your confession leaving your mouth as you run a hand up and down your neck and chest.

“You shine,” the modulated voice sizzles through you.

“Yeah? How bright can I shine for you tonight?” Your hand dipping underneath the fabric of your dress petting back and forth across your breasts.

“As bright as you want for me.”

“Sure about that? I can burn really bright. Can I see if I burn bright in your armor?”

He straightens, sitting taller and nods.

You rise off the rock, grabbing the bottom of your dress as you stand, lifting it up over your head.

You pad over to him naked, the crisp breeze of the forest hitting your skin. It truly feels like you’re the only two people on this whole planet. His hands clench into fists as you stand in front of him. 

“Can’t see much, just the outline of my body in the flickering light. What do you see?”

“You,” the modulated crackling as he chokes out, “all of you.”

You lift one of his hands, grabbing the edge of his glove. “Can I?” 

He nods. 

You remove it. Thick fingers, well manicured short nails, trails of veins running through strong muscles. Your cunt begins to weep as you think of what his hand would feel like between your legs. You’ve seen his bare hands before, sometimes he gives the kid it to entertain himself with, sometimes he needs his hand bare to repair something. But, you’ve never seen it this close. It’s the only body part you’ve seen of his, you imagine the rest of him to be just as golden, just as toned, just as thick as his hand. 

You rest it on your hip, a moan escapes your mouth at the contact. He lets out a huff of modulated air as he grips your skin. 

“Maker,” you whisper into the night sky, just his hand on you igniting something powerful. He tests you, running a lazy line up to your chest and back down to your hips, the path sets your skin ablaze. You want him to go lower, you want one of his thick fingers to push inside, you want him to feel how wet you are.

“See, sometimes you shine too bright, and it does things to me. Sometimes I can’t look away and it makes being around you really hard for me and I have to sneak my hand down at night ‘n try to dull that ache. I think you feel the same way… sometimes I can hear you in that fresher,” his head raises towards you, his grip tightening now searing against your skin, “the walls are thin.”

“I hear you… I-I listen.” Maker, his voice. You’ve never heard his voice this way, the shame dripping out of the tinny speakers.

Your eyebrow raises at his confession. “You listen to me?”

A solemn nod, downcast.

“Hey,” you touch the edge of his helmet, lifting it so he can look at you. This is the first time you’ve ever touched it. In fact, this is the first time you’ve actually touched him, besides a quick brush as you move past or put the baby in his arms. “I like that. Would you watch me if you could?” 

His helmet nods in your hold. 

You can feel the tensity radiating off of him, you know he’s a hunter you know that under all of those layers he’s screaming to get out, to attack you, to make you his bounty. 

“You know, I see you hunt people all of the time. I can’t explain what it does to me to see your big body in the distance walking towards us and the ship, your bounty cuffed and subservient to you. I love the power you hold, but I think you’d like someone else to have that power over you. Am I right?”

“Yes.” 

“Can I have that power over you?” 

“Yes.”

“You want to watch me?” 

He nods.

You turn away from him, grabbing the blanket folded on the rock you were using earlier to look up at the stars with the kid, laying it on the ground by the fire. You settle yourself on it, the warmth from the flames heating your body. You lean back on your hands, locking your knees together. 

“Tell me what you want to see, you’re such a being of few words, talk to me.”

“Open your legs.”

You separate your legs, spreading them open, your pussy is on full display for him, dripping for him. His hands rest on his knees as he leans forward. 

“Touch yourself,” he whispers out.

You trail your hand down to in between your legs, rubbing a line from your clit to your hole. 

“Am I shining here for you?”

“Yes,” the modulator crackles as he hisses.

Your fingers light a trail around your clit, your hips cant up whenever you rub against the tight bundle of nerves. You’re putting on a show for him, biting your lip and staring straight forward into the small window of his helmet. Even though you can’t see them, you know his eyes are only focused on you. You moan into the night, tilting your head back to look at the stars as your finger dips into your entrance. 

You can hear his breathing over the squelchy sound of your finger pumping in and out of you, your head turning back down towards him when you hear a low groan. His hands are gripping his knees, he’s leaning over as far as he can as he watches you fuck yourself. 

The way his large shoulders are rising and falling rapidly as his breathing quickens makes your body ache, your palm knocks against your clit as you add another finger and fuck yourself.  

“Do you want me to cum for you like this?” 

“C-c-can I touch you when you do?”

Oh, his voice. It’s so heavy and yet so light. You’ve never heard it like this, he sounds so young, so excited, so unlike the scary Mandalorian that secretly intimidates you, not that you’d ever let him know. 

“Come here,” you shuffle your feet wider, spreading your legs as far as you can. “Kneel down.”

He moves lightning quick, a dash of metal appearing in between your legs. He’s so fucking big, so fucking broad, so fucking handsome, so fucking strong, he drives you crazy and all you’ve ever seen of him is his hand. 

He takes his other glove off and throwing it to the side before tentatively placing his hands on your knees, the feel of his rough palms planting against your soft skin bringing you closer to your climax. 

“Cum for me,” he whispers. You wish he didn’t have that damn helmet, you wish his real voice could float across the air and land against your cunt. 

His hands grip you harder as your hips begin to rise and fall while you writhe against the soft blanket, your cunt tightening around your fingers as you pull yourself onto the cliff and leap down into the ocean of your pleasure. 

You don’t break eye contact with Mando, his firm stare you feel behind that damned black shield shattering your heart and your pussy into a million pieces as you scream out into the vast wilderness of the night. 

His hands chart a path across your knees, his touch so gentle versus the way he was just clutching you as you came for him. 

“Did I shine for you?” Your voice comes out smaller and more delicate than you wanted. 

“Brightly.” 

“Can I make you shine bright for me?” 

“Yes.”

“Can I have my way with you, the way I want it? The way I’ve dreamed about taking you?” You sit up, his hands still rub your legs, as if once you’ve given him permission to touch you it’s all he wants to do now. 

He nods. 

You turn your head to the side, looking at all of his now clean weapons laid out on the table. The binders are still there, their presence has been on your mind since you saw him pick them up earlier to clean. 

“Can I borrow something from over there?”

“What?”

“Can I borrow your binders?”

“Y-yes.”

You rise up off the blanket, moving quickly to pick them up, as if you don’t do this right now, he’s going to back out. You’re now the hunter. You pick them up in your hand, they’re heavier than you thought, the metal is cool against your touch.

“Can I cuff you like I caught you… like you’re my bounty?”

His deep growl as he tips his head back shoots a wave of pleasure through your body, you can only assume it matches what he’s currently feeling. You love that the two of you are now sharing in each other’s pleasure instead of hiding it behind the thin metal walls of a spaceship. 

“Yes.”

You can’t hide your smile as you stalk towards him, like he’s now caught and you’re ready to get your reward. He hasn’t moved from where he knelt in front of you as he watched you fuck yourself.

“Can you take your vambraces off for me?”

He deftly removes them without a word, laying them next to him.

“Can you do something else for me?” 

He nods.

“Can you show me how to turn your volume and display off in your helmet? You saw my cunt, you heard me fuck myself, but you’ve never felt my pussy or mouth. I want you to only feel it now.”

“Dank farrik,” he grunts. “Yes.” 

He picks up a vambrace, putting in a couple of codes, his fingers driving you crazy as they move across the small buttons. 

“Press this when you want it,” he pants out as he hands it to you.

“Thank you. Put your hands in front, raise them up.” 

He follows your instructions. He looks so good like this, kneeling in front of you ready to serve, you like having this power over him. This must be how he feels whenever he catches his prey.

You grab one of his arms, pushing the sleeve up of his flight suit. His skin is just as bronzed as you expected it to be, born that way, hidden away for years underneath fabric and armor. You do the same with the other arm, the sight of his toned and hairy forearms causing a wave of heat to spread over your body.

You put a cuff over his wrist, locking it in place. You look up at him, checking to make sure he’s okay with this. He nods his approval as you slip the other cuff on and lock it. He’s now bound, still kneeling, his thick legs supporting him as he lowers his hands down. 

“Good?” You whisper as you stand tall in front of him. “Lay on your back, put your arms over your head.” 

You’ll never not be shocked at how big he is, yet how easily he moves in his large body. He takes up the whole blanket. Your mouth waters as you notice how his pants are tented as he lays down for you.

“I promise I won’t remove any more armor or your helmet, but I will help myself to you. I want you to be as loud as you can be, let yourself go, let me have the power, you deserve it. I’m going to turn off the display and your sound, is that okay?”

“Yes, Maker, yes.”

“If you need me, say Lothal,” you hit the button he showed you, Din’s head thuds against the dirt as you imagine he’s now cast in complete darkness and silence. You listen to his deep breathing as you look down at him. Fuck, this is going to be good. 

You settle on the ground kneeling between his spread legs, just like he did for you. Your hands move across the rough fabric of his flight suit, his hoarse groan rumbles through his body when you caress his thighs.

“That’s it, that’s it baby,” you whisper to nobody, the thrill of seeing him like this letting go for you makes your head spin. 

The shape of his hard cock straining against the zipper of his flight suit beckons you. You run a hand across it, his whole body shudders. He’s panting, the sounds of his struggle soaring into the air causing goosebumps to prickle against your skin and your cunt to clench.

You lick your lips as you unzip the zipper, grabbing the heft of him and lifting it out. Maker, Maker, Maker. He’s so wide and firm, just like you knew he would be. Swollen, throbbing, fucking gorgeous, precum leaking down his tip.   

He lets out a rasped “ahhh” as you wrap your fist around his length. His skin is so soft, so silky, so firm. Your thumb swipes across his tip, collecting the precum on the pad of it, bringing it to your mouth to taste him. He tastes delicious… salty and musky. You sit back and watch him lay there vulnerable only for you, his exposed cock twitching in the light of the fire. Your head, heart, and core are heavy with want for this mystery of a man… you wonder if anybody has ever had him like you do right now. 

“Mesh’la?” His voice breaks you out of your daze. Mando’a, you’ve never heard him speak it. You make a note to yourself to look that word up on your datapad later. 

“I’m here,” you say before realizing he can’t hear you. You place a hand on his thigh and gently squeeze it as you lay in between his thick thighs, his legs caging you in. 

You angle your head forward and seal your mouth over the head of his cock, his whole body shivers as you suck him. He feels so good in your mouth, you love the slight stretch of your lips as you move his length down your throat. 

Your eyes water as you take him all the way down, his tip hitting the back of your throat making you gag around him. You slide him out of your mouth, grabbing him at the base and slapping his length against your lips, you revel in the sting it leaves against your skin as you stick him back in and bob your mouth up and down, your tongue tasting the salt of his skin. 

You hollow your cheeks around him, the combined sounds of ecstasy coming out of the speakers of his helmet mixed with the slurp of your lips soundtrack the night as his hips begin to lift when he begins fucking into your mouth. 

You know he’s close, the way his moans garble, the way his hips begin to stutter as you swirl your tongue against him. He chokes out a protest as you slip him out of your mouth, leaving him pulsing. You’re selfish, you want what you want and he’s given you the opportunity tonight to take whatever you want from him. 

You grab his vambrace before sitting down and straddling his thighs. Reaching down you grab his cock, angling him to rub between your soaked folds, the tip bumps against your swollen clit and you yelp. 

You want him to watch, you want him to hear. You hit the button on his vambrace, his helmet instantly pops up, the black T of his helmet angled to look right at the apex of your thighs. 

“Wanted you to see this,” you say as you rise up, grabbing his cock and slowly sinking yourself down on it. 

Your body accepts all of him as you roll your hips, getting comfortable around the feeling of being stuffed so full of him.

“You feel so good in me, I knew you would, let me do the work, let me fuck you,” you whimper as he stretches your tight hole. 

You use him to fuck yourself, he lays perfectly still like you asked him, you never imagined he’d listen so well to your instructions. He’s panting for you, his arms still raised above his head, his wrists straining against the cuffs, hands forming tight fists as you begin to pound him. 

You move your hand down to start rubbing circles around your clit, you’re on the edge of another orgasm, you can tell he’s even closer. 

“You can cum for me, I have the implant, I want to feel you pump your cum inside me, cum for me Mando.”

His helmet bobbles as his body shudders underneath you.

It destroys you, the feel of his big cock spearing you as he empties himself into you, the sound of the garbled words he’s grunting as he tilts his hips up into you, the feel of your fingers tracing your clit, the heat of the fire warming your already feverish body. 

You strangle his cock as you orgasm, your slick mixing with his spend inside you as you lean forward on him, laying your body on top of his. You reach up and remove both cuffs, throwing them to the side as he shakes each hand out. You stare into his helmet, you can make out the reflection of your face in the black T of his visor. 

“I can see myself shining in you now,” you say as he wraps his arms around you. 

[kivino]

NIGHT TIME BONDING || SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY X GN!READER

Word counter – ~2k words

Summary – You have a hard time falling asleep. Ghost has the same problem.

Tags/Warnings – gn!Reader, smoking, ooc probably. Not proofread and written in the middle of the night.

A/n – sort of continuation to one of the scenarios I wrote about in this post. Really wanted to write some fluff with Ghost. Please, enjoy!

also available on my ao3

Summer nights were suffocating in this dingy apartment you had to share with your teammates for this undercover mission. Air thick with warmth, sheets tossed aside, it already felt like hours passed as you unsuccessfully tried to fall asleep, tossing around, getting more and more annoyed with each second. You could hear the soft breathing and quiet snoring blending in with the whirring of the fan, which worked in fruitless attempts to make the room feel cooler. You sit up on the bed, deciding to do a small headcount to calm your nerves. You couldn’t sleep anyway, so it wouldn’t hurt.

Your eyes scanned over the dark room with ease, used to the lack of light. There’s John, snoring away on the couch, with his arm carelessly thrown over his eyes. Kyle, half of his body already hanging off the edge of the bed. Captain, who fell asleep on the armchair with a book over his eyes. And finally, Simon is…nowhere to be seen. Naturally.

So, you wander through the darkness to the kitchen, bare feet shuffling over the creaking, old floor.  You see a slumped figure on the balcony through the thin curtains, a soft orange glow barely illuminating any facial features. There he was. You catch yourself letting out an unintentional sigh of relief.

You were never particularly close to Simon in these several months you’ve worked together. Even more than that, you much preferred the company of Kyle, with whom it was a lot easier to converse than with this shadowy entity called ‘Ghost’, stripped from every sign of humanity that could be used against it. Of course, you were curious about him. But not to the point of asking the masked man directly every question that clung onto your mind like a parasite. You’d rather be subtle. You’d rather let everything develop naturally, instead of rushing things, chasing after something unknown. But maybe, this was the opportunity for you to finally…do what, exactly? You weren’t sure.

But still, you approached the balcony on your tiptoes, not to make too much noise, and knocked on the side of the door, before opening it. You didn’t want to startle him. You saw how alert he was all the time. Sitting in the farthest corner of the room, trying not to turn his back too much, looking and listening to everything, all the time. It’s not like you were oblivious. You didn’t need to know the reason behind his behavior to understand it.

Ghost’s head shoots up in your direction, warm, yellowish light from the outside cascading over his face in soft waves. He lazily pulls down his mask so that only his mouth is visible, and you can’t help but let your eyes wander, drinking up every single detail of his appearance that you and the whole team were usually deprived of. Lieutenant’s skin was adorned by a thin scar slicing through the top lip, blond stubble that you could barely see in the low light, and some red irritations that didn’t look that pleasant. Your eyes trail to the outstretched arm that rested on the open window, cigarette between his fingers sending twisting serpents of smoke outside. He was eyeing you now, embers of curiosity dancing in his gaze as he waited for your next move.

“Can I join you?” You ask, crossing your arms over your torso as if trying to protect yourself from his piercing eyes. You didn’t know if he was judging you right this moment, and you didn’t want to find that out.

“I don’t know. Can you?” His voice didn’t need to be loud to boom through the cramped space of the balcony. You raise your brow, but still huff out a puff of air through your nose, slightly amused. “Knock yourself out.” Ghost pats the second stool near him, inviting you to join him. You drag your feet over a layer of thin newspapers laid out on the cold, dirty floor and plop down with a short exhale.

You sit there for a moment, silent. Absorbing your surroundings. The gentle mumble of crickets, songs of the night birds, and no signs of living, breathing people beyond the glass threshold of the window. The usually overwhelming, heavy presence of Ghost now felt more welcoming, even serene. Curious how such things seemed to change drastically during the nightfall.

“Trouble sleeping, sergeant?” Ghost suddenly breaks the silence, bringing the cigarette to his lips. Your eyes locked and for some reason, you didn’t want to look away. That kind of unintentional contact always felt awkward. Now it felt…warm. Comforting. Right.

“You could say that,” You vaguely shrug, not willing to go into details about your sleep schedule and habits. After all, boring your superior to death seemed like an unfortunate way to get kicked out of the task force. “Never took you for the small talk type, lieutenant.” You add hastily and hear him let out a low chuckle, puffs of smoke escaping his lips.

“Call me Simon.” His tone is firm but light-hearted. And with the way he was trying to be quiet, the ring of his voice reminded you of the rumbling right before summer thunderstorms with heavy, lead-colored clouds and whispers of rain that followed with it.

“Right. Simon.” You say his name as if testing the waters, rolling it off the tip of your tongue. You don’t notice the man shuffling in his seat, turning his face towards the window and putting the hand over his mouth, trying to hide the smile that softly pulled on his mouth. “Simon. Yeah, I’ll definitely need to get used to this.” It didn’t feel unpleasant saying his name like that, just…unusual. You knew his name, of course you did. And you preferred not to skip formalities, but this crisp night air undeniably clouded your judgment in more ways than one.

“Well, you have all the time in the world until we catch The Bastard with his knickers down.” You didn’t need to clarify who he spoke about. You would rather not get reminded about your target. Who liked getting ice-cold, insistent shivers just thinking about the deeds of their enemy? Certainly not you. Your eyes fell to the floor, desperately clinging onto the rows upon rows of letters in the newspapers talking about politicians, inventors, random TV shows and so, so much more. To think all of this will be gone if you fail felt nauseating, making your stomach sink, worry clawing at your insides. Still, you tried to seem unaffected by the train of thought that suddenly took the wrong turn. And Simon saw right through your attempts to put on a brave face.  

He always saw, but each time he shot down the debate inside his head, choosing not to interfere. Voluntarily sitting back, while observing you working yourself to the bone, dark circles under your eyes becoming more prominent, a cup of coffee or a can of energy drink looking permanently attached to your hand. He never thought of you as someone particularly close or interesting (or more so he tried to convince himself of that), you were nothing but colleagues. However, he still felt something harshly tugging at his chest when you’d choose to pair up with Kyle or Johnny for any work that needed to get done, or that unfamiliar gnawing in his stomach when the two of you were left alone after all. Or that worry, trembling in his chest when you looked a tad bit worse for wear than usual. He never liked those emotions having a go at him when he least expected, tangling inside of him like a ball of vibrant yarn, he never liked getting attached but…He still wanted to trust you. Or at least try to, since it looked like you two are not getting rid of each other any time soon.

“Hey,” You feel Simon gently squeezing your shoulder, immediately getting your attention. The heat started creeping up your body from the sudden touch, the night breeze failing to cool you off. “Don’t worry. We’ll finish him off. Don’t even doubt it.” His voice was firm and something about it managed to calm you down after all. The mission has been taking too much time. You desperately needed the reassurance, slowly losing hope day by day, with each failure taking a major toll on you.

“It’s hard not to doubt it sometimes.” You let out a dry laugh and look up, unsure of when he suddenly managed to lean in so close without you noticing. Your eyes trail around the lower half of his face, eventually captured by the ember of a lit cigarette growing dim between his lips, before it’s carelessly tossed out of the window by him.

“I might not show it, but I appreciate you and the work you’re doing,” He lets that sink in for a moment before continuing quietly. “All of us do.” Simon is not sure if he included the last sentence to put some invisible wall between you two, to at least try to turn this very personal moment into something remotely professional. Without thinking, he slides his hand down your arm and grabs your palm.

You don’t pull away.

“The feeling is mutual…Simon”

And the distance he tried to put between you two is gone within a second, just like that. Even if given thousands of years, he wouldn’t have been able to describe that sweet, saccharine tremble in his chest and the ache in his heart when you said his name like that. It was almost embarrassing, how such a small thing could make him so weak in the knees. Your hand shuffled in his for a moment, and when instead of letting him go your fingers tangled with his…He truly felt like a goner. Simon pulled the mask over the lower half of his face in a weak attempt to conceal what he was experiencing. To hide the storm that raged inside with unbridled force, destroying him from the inside, creating something new, unknown, and terrifying in its obscurity.

Turns out the two of you didn’t heed loud, big words to enjoy the presence of each other like this. Simon sat there, frozen in his place, stiff and rigid, wishing this moment would last forever. Forgetting that you’re just his colleague, forgetting everything that he kept repeating in his mind each time he saw you, and forgetting about everything beyond the small balcony that harbored the two of you in this fleeting serenity. It felt like time here flowed similar to the gentle waves of the cool river water. Or maybe it was you? It felt so bizarre, your eyes slowing down time itself, your touch igniting a fire within him and your fingers manipulating his blood, making it boil in his veins. Simon knew that the moment rays of the morning sun hit your face everything would fade away, leaving him shattered and bitter. He also realized that he was not able to break away from your gentle, warm hold on him. So, it was only up to you to end this. A giant leap of faith.

“Well, I better get some sleep. We have to get up early tomorrow.” You give him the lamest excuse that you could come up with, but Simon still nods. Before this silence, full of purpose and understanding, can escalate any further you reluctantly let go of his hand, clearing your throat and getting up from your spot. He gets it, you don’t have to say it outright for him to know what you mean. You stand in one place for a moment, unwilling to move, adamant to let this moment of tranquility finally end, despite knowing that it will be for the best. So, you have to push yourself just to walk out of the balcony.

“You know what? We need to do this more often.” You turn around and glance at his silhouette from the doorway, taken out of your thoughts. And you see his cheeks stretching the skull on the mask when he says that. He’s smiling.

“Yeah…yeah. You’re right.” You give him a nod. And his words are finally enough for you to feel a pleasant fatigue roll in a gentle wave over your body.  

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[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Snow Drop Part. 7

Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader

Description: After Y/N's rejection, Jaecerys fears he has lost his love forever unaware of the true nature of her feelings. Meanwhile Y/N struggles to stay away from The Prince she secretly loves, having faced heartbreak before. Can an overheard conversation get Jace to fight for her love?

Warnings: female reader.

Writer's note: Sorry it's been a while. I had this written ages ago but work and just life in general got in the way of me posting it. Hope you enjoy reading it.

Jacaerys became a ghostly shell of himself in the days that followed his disastrous profession of love to his lady. He rebuked himself for having believed that she could have returned his feelings, having clearly only viewed him as a friend. She was far too beautiful, too sweet, too incomparable. By imposing his affections upon her he had spoiled any chance of remaining in her orbit, even if only in the capacity of a friend. He felt her absence like a cold shard of ice through his heart and sometimes convinced himself that he saw her, as if she were a ghost of a memory dancing in his periphery. Dark circles formed purple bruises under his eyes from lack of sleep and he was unable to lift the feeling of a pressing weight on his heart at all times, as if the wound to it from her rejection was a palpable thing he carried with him always. The pain he felt at the loss of her, both as a friend and as the Princess of his heart would not cause him to intrude upon the distance she had imposed upon him. Nevertheless, he could not resist from leaving snowdrops in books he thought might interest her in the library, leaving them placed on the open pages for her to find. He told himself that such a gesture should not displease her, even if she knew that if was he who left them. She did so love those flowers and he would much rather imagine her delicate fingers brushing the petals of them, than the flowers lying in a forest, unseen by her. He never stayed to see if she would come across his gifts. He had enough strength yet to allow her space away from him, though it pained him to acquiesce to it. The absence of the flower from the page on the morrow was an intimation that she had been there and had cared for his gift, even if she did not care for the sentiments it expressed. Whilst the thought of her touching the flower and being pleased by it gladdened his heart, almost as if she were touching his hand with her own, it also saddened him. His lady disappeared with the morning light just as the flower did; as if she had never existed, except in his mind.

It was with these painful thoughts oppressing him that Jacaerys pressed a kiss to his fingertips and then to the flower he had left open on a book on the history of Targaryen dragons for his lady. The hour was late and he knew he should leave on the chance that she would enter the library and be disturbed at the sight of him, so he turned to leave. He had only begun to walk back to his chambers from the library when, turning the corner, he was met with the at once welcome and alarming sight of his lady. Only too welcome, given how long he had been deprived of the sight of her beauty and sweet presence, but alarming as he noted the tears glistening on her cheeks. Without any forethought, he immediately reached out to her, raising one hand to cup her face, and another to take hold of her elbow, gazing into her eyes with concern.

"My dearest love, what is the cause of your distress? Are you unwell or hurt?"

To his surprise and concern, she only closed her eyes, wincing as if in pain, before attempting to push him away from her. Believing her to be injured, he maintained his hold on her, wrapping an arm around her waist, determined to assess the cause of her pain before he released her.

"I know, I know," he hushed her, "I will release you as soon as you tell me where the pain is. I can only help you if I know what has befallen you."

She pushed his chest halfheartedly with her palms, as if unsure whether she wanted him to release his hold on her or melt into his embrace. Her head fell to rest on his chest, as if in spite of herself, and she mumbled into the velvet fabric of his tunic.

"I hate you for this," tightening her grip on his tunic as she said so, pressing her head more forcefully into his chest.

Jacaerys closed his eyes, wincing himself, as he drew in a sharp breath, her words lancing through him like a knife. It pained him immeasurably to know that she not only did not, and would never, return his love for her, but also that his very presence was so hateful to her. Her tight grip on him, however, convinced him that she still required comfort, so he wrapped her in his arms more securely, rubbing her back up and down tentatively.

He lowered his head to rest upon hers, whispering disconsolately, "I know, I am sorry for it, I will leave you as soon as you are calmer."

To his surprise, she only tightened her grip on him further, crying harder into his chest, so that he began to grow really alarmed. Raising one hand to gently cup her head, he pulled her away from him slightly to look into her eyes.

"Darling, you begin to really alarm me. What can have distressed you so much and how can I remedy it?" he asked frantically. "Has someone harmed you?" he added, his eyes darkening and his voice growing steely as he mentally prepared to dispatch the offender who had upset his Love. When she only shook her head, after returning it to rest against his chest, he tentatively enquired, in a softer voice, conveying his trepidation at her answer, "Is it me that distresses you so, my Love?"

He received his painful confirmation when she released a sob, which caused an acute pain in his chest, believing himself to be the cause, before she forcefully pushed him away from her and ran from him before he could stop her.

Unbeknownst to Jacaerys, his lady was suffering his own absence as acutely as he was hers. Believing that she was doing what was best for them both, she had forced herself to push away the only man she could ever imagine opening her heart to, locking away her own love for him as she did so. Her days had been as equally listless, her nights as sleepless as Jacaerys, overwhelmed by a feeling of loss that his absence filled her with. She was determined, however, to maintain her distance from him, even if the flowers she knew he left for her had her almost breaking her resolve. Each night she would take the flower he had left on the open pages of books he knew would interest her, her heart warming painfully at the thought of his kindness and attentiveness towards her and her interests. She carefully pressed each flower into a book of stories her mother had given her as a child, preserving them as memories of her lost love, telling herself that she could allow herself this one foible. It was the questioning of a maid she had grown friendly with that had caused her to break down into tears. She had good naturedly teased Y/N for her interest in the Price, asking her why she had been avoiding him of late when she had previously seemed so taken with him. Y/N could only take so much of her teasing before her repressed pain brimmed forth in her tears, and she made to seek out the repose of the library, where she could at least feel close to him in remembering the time they had spent together there. She was alarmed to practically run into the arms of the Prince, but found herself unable to release her hold on him as he tried to ascertain the cause for her distress. His tender concern and genuine alarm at her distress only made it that much harder for her to reject his tender touch, as he tried to comfort her, and she found herself unable to release her grip on him. His tentative suggestion that he was the cause of her distress, although not in the way he imagined, and that he should leave her, led her to give into desperate tears, as she held onto him like a lifeline. It was only at his unintentional reminder to herself that it was the impossibility of her being able to return his feelings that led her to push him away from her, though it hurt her to do so. She was pained at the thought that her repeated rejections of his advances caused him discomfort, but she reminded herself that men's love was fleeting and he would recover from them to rule over the Seven Kingdoms, where she could lose all if she gave in.

Several more days had passed, though not without Jacaerys attempting to catch his Love when he passed her down the hallway on his way to the Council room one day. She had quickly sidestepped him when he had attempted to enquire into her wellbeing, and he had forced himself to allow her to walk past him, without any further enquiry on his part. His internal turmoil at the loss of his love and over her own evident distress, which he could not remedy, being the cause of it, continued to manifest itself in outward signs. His mother even began to grow concerned for the state of his health, though he was quick to assure her on the point and to brush away her concern.

Jacaerys now made his way to the library, earlier than he was wont to do, planning on retiring early that evening, if only because the only sight he could now have of his love was in his dreams. He turned behind a book case filled with books on natural history, searching for a book on flowers that his lady had not read, raising his hand to reach for one volume, before the sound of two voices arrested his motion. He stood, frozen in place, as he heard the voice of his Love.

"I won't be long, Margery, I only wanted to find a book I was interested in reading."

A feeling of contentment washed over him at the sound of her voice, although he also knew that the sight of him might startle her from her search, so he resolved to remain where he was until she had collected her book.

"I don't know how you can read so many, it's that Prince of yours whose responsible. You think of nothing else but him."

Jacaerys felt his heart stop at the sound of the maid referring to him as Y/N's Prince. His own heart already belonged to her, but the thought that she might view him as hers had a spark of hope alighting in his heart.

"He is not my Prince, Margery. Don't say such things out loud, someone might hear you and misunderstand. I don't think of him all the time."

He felt the spark of hope diminish as his lady spoke, turning into cinders.

"I'm no fool, Y/N. I've seen the way you both look at each other, like you're the only other person in that one's world. I used to find it difficult to get you to shut up about him and now you won't speak of him at all and avoid him as if you were afraid of him. Did he do something to you?"

"No! He would never harm me, he is a gentleman and a true Prince."

The other maid's words had caused him to grip onto the shelf opposite him in restrained pain. The thought that he would ever harm his love was horrifying to him. However, his lady's impassioned defence of him had his heart soaring. That she should think so well of him still filled him with hope that he could hope to renew his friendship with her if he was careful not to let his true devotion to her run away with him.

"Why do you avoid him so then? You'd think you hated him."

His lady's next words had his heart stopping altogether before it continued to beat urgently, the sound of it resounding in his ears as his breathing quickened and a smile upturned his lips.

"I don't hate him! I love him!"

A moment of silence passed before Margery responded.

"You...love him?"

Y/N responded in so quiet and soft a voice he had to strain to hear her, holding onto her words like a lifeline.

"I do, and it is precisely because I love him that I have to avoid him. He is a Prince of the Realm, the Heir to the Iron Throne, and I am only a lowly servant girl. It could never work. It is for the best that I avoid him."

He closed his eyes tightly shut, rebuking himself for not realising that his lady did return his feelings and that it was really only her fears regarding his intentions that were preventing her from telling him so. He should have been more assiduous in urging the seriousness of them.

"Has he made any improper advances towards you, Y/N?"

"He would never do such a thing, I do not wish for you to view him so harshly. He told me he loved me and that he wanted me to marry me."

"What?! And you said no to a Prince's proposal!? Are you mad?"

"Don't goad me, Margery. Yes, he did everything properly, but he is still a man and a Prince no-less. It would not be the first time a man has professed his love for me, only to retract it later. I have already told you of this. I thought Christopher loved me, that he would marry me, but he only wanted one thing and when I would not give it to him he proved just how foolish I was to trust in the word of a man."

Hearing his Love speak of her fears and her experience of her love being misplaced in that bastard, he wished that he could hold her to him and reassure her that he would never be so careless with her heart. His promise of love to her was solemn and unbreakable, he would never love another. He struggled to repress his anger with the man she spoke of for breaking her heart and making such demands of her. He resolved that he would kill him if he ever encountered him, his hand clenching around the book shelf he had been holding.

"I know, Y/N, but not all men are like that braggart. You have spoken to me often enough of how honourable and gallant the Prince is. Have I not sworn that if I hear 'Prince Jacaerys is a true prince in every manner of the word' one more time I will have to have an intervention with you?"

Jacaerys found himself smiling again at this, delighting that his lady should think so highly of him. He only hoped that she would see him as her Prince too, not just a stately figure she admired from a distance. He would close that distance entirely if he could.

"Yes, yes, I know it and I will not deny that the Prince could not be further from Christopher. I do believe he is in earnest about his intentions towards me, but I cannot trust that he will remain earnest. More than that, how could I claim to love him if I would willingly jeopardize his claim to the Iron Throne by tying him to a lowly servant girl? I love him far too much to do that, even if it pains me to reject his love. Do you not think it hurts me to avoid him, when I would much rather be with him always?"

He felt the wind taken out of his lungs from her declaration. His heart swelled with even more love than he felt possible for a human being to contain within themselves at her selfless concealment of her love for him, in her desire not to hinder his passage to the throne. She could not know that he could only imagine ruling with her at his side. It pained him to know that she thought so lowly of herself, when he thought she was the epitome of perfection, the most beautiful girl in the world, the Princess of his heart. At the same, he was filled with new found determination to convince her that he would never waver from his love for her. He had already resolved to love her forever, if only in silent resignation at her indifference. Now that he knew she felt the same way about him, that she wanted him too, he would not rest until he had succeeded in assuring her that he was hers and hers alone, if she would have him.

"You are more selfless than I would be in the same position, Y/N. I don't envy you. I must ready the Princess Rhaena for bed now, so I will leave you to it. Don't stay up too late, I worry about you. You haven't been sleeping or eating much. If you are to reject the Prince, can you not also neglect your own health."

Margery's words felt like a sharp rebuke to him, as he cursed himself for not having realised the true cause for his lady's distress. His concern for her wellbeing was only surpassed by his determination to ensure that he was never so careless again, not now that he knew she loved him. He would assiduously care for her all the rest of their lives together, if she would permit it. He grew restless for Margery to depart so that he could convince her that such was the case.

"I won't, don't worry. Thank you for worrying about me Margery, you are a good friend."

Jacaerys waited until he heard Margery's retreating footsteps and her close the library door, before he emerged from his hiding place, making enough noise in the hope of not startling his Love too much. She looked up from the book she had opened before her in alarm, as she met his gaze.

"My Prince! How much did you...what did you hear?!"

"Everything, my Love. I am sorry for listening to your conversation but I could not help overhearing."

As he spoke, in a gentle voice, communicating the tenderness he felt for her within it, he took slow, measured steps towards her.

"I am only sorry that it took me overhearing your conversation to understand the reason for your distress. I hope that you will forgive me for my carelessness in not realising before and that you will allow me to renew my proposal of marriage once again. I urgently entreat you to believe that I am most ardent in my love for you and in my hope that you will consent to be my lady wife and my Princess."

He had nearly approached her, reaching out towards her with his arms, as if to embrace her, before she ran from him behind a nearby table. He could not altogether repress a smile at her antics, as she moved to the other side of the table when he moved to walk around it.

"You needn't run from me, my Love." Smirking, he continued in a teasing tone. "Did you not say that you thought me gallant and a Prince in every sense of the word?" He inwardly rejoiced at the blush which arose on her cheeks as her mouth parted in shock at his words, and he took the opportunity of her surprise to move further round the table towards her. Reaching to clasp her hand in his, he added, "I would be your Prince, if you would only have me."

Coming back to her senses, she quickly withdrew her hand and Jacaerys' face fell as she turned and ran from him. He would not stand by, this time, as the only woman he would ever love fled from him again, not when he knew that she loved him too, that she wanted him, if she would only allow herself to put her faith in him. He was determined that if she wanted him, she would have him. With renewed determination, he ran after her, quickly catching up with her. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he turned her towards him. As she raised a palm to push against his chest, he pressed his own hand firmly against her hand, sliding her hand up to rest against the place where his heart beat frantically against his chest.

"Do you not feel how my heart beats for you and only you, my Love. It has only ever been you. My feelings for you are unalterable, as unshakable as the foundations of Dragonstone. I would lay my life down for yours, hold you in my arms when you are happy or sad, care for you when you will not care for yourself, and protect your heart as I would do your person. You are the Princess of my heart and I would have you be the Princess of the Realm too. Please believe me when I say that nothing would bring me greater happiness than for you to accept me as your husband who only wishes to adore you for the rest of our lives." Seeing that she was relaxing in his hold, gazing up at him as he spoke, he continued determinedly, in the hope that she was really beginning to believe in his earnestness.

He spoke even more softly now, as he approached the next sensitive issue he was urgent to address. "I know that that blaggard was unfaithful to you and careless with your heart, when to me it is the most precious thing in the world." He looked into her eyes intently, urging, willing her to believe in him. To put her faith in his love for her. "I vow to protect your heart. It is the only prize I covet. No throne could compare to your love. I believe that I would have found and loved you had we met in any other life. We would always have found each other. I feel as if there were a string tethering your heart to mine. It can never be broken on my end, but I will release you now if you believe that you cannot place your faith in me or my love for you."

He pressed her hand more firmly to his heart as he finished speaking, praying and willing that he had said enough to convince her of his love for her.

He was foolish not to have seen that he would need to convince her that he had always viewed her as an equal. Whilst proud of his noble House and fiercely loyal to it, Jacaerys saw all members of the Queen's household, whether noble or not, as deserving of the respect owing to those loyally serving the true Queen in whatever capacity they could. His own insecurities about the nature of his birth and place within House Targaryen aside, he did not believe that those who were not from noble Houses were therefore inferior. Though unconventional, he did not anticipate any strong objection to his match with Y/N from anyone who mattered to him. It distressed him to think that his lady may have believed his intentions to have been different to those he would have had towards a noble lady, but he was determined to prove to her that this could not be further from the case. She was always a Lady to him, noble or not, and he would find a way to make her believe this.

He watched in anguished anticipation as several emotions flickered across his lady's face, before she looked up to meet his gaze. He momentarily stopped breathing as she slowly raised her other hand to his chest, before sliding both hands from his chest to rest upon his shoulders.

"You earnestly mean to say that you love me and want to marry me? Even though I am no Lady, just a lowly servant girl?"

He placed both hands on either side of head, lowering his forehead to rest against hers.

"You are, and have always been a Lady to me. You have never been lowly, nor do I consider any other soul under this roof to be who serves the true Queen. We each have our role to play in service to the Queen, and you have performed yours admirably. Though, I would have you give up that role for a new one as my Princess, should you assent to it. I earnestly entreat you to believe that I mean what I say when I say that I love you more than words can say and that your assent to my proposal of marriage would make me the happiest man alive."

His eyes were closed, fearing that he had not done enough to convince her, that she would still reject him. He let out a shuddering breath when he heard her next words, music to his ears he had scarcely have imagined hearing.

"I will put my faith in your love and your promise then. You already know that I love you too, and I think too highly of your honour to believe you would not safeguard my heart if you say that you really mean to do so."

He was so elated at her words, so grateful for the trust she had placed in him, when he now knew that she had been wounded in the past by misplacing her trust that he wasted no time in pulling her head and waist towards him. Wrapping his arms around her, he attempted to remove any physical distance between them, to enwrap her in an embrace that would signal to her how carefully he intended to safeguard her person and her heart. Breaking away from her slightly, he bent his face towards hers, placing a gentle kiss on the side of her jaw, watching her reaction carefully to see if his affections should displease her. Watching her eyes close in contentment, as she tilted her jaw towards his lips, he continued to place tender kisses to her jaw, before looking into her eyes for the permission he sought, glancing at her lips. As she wrapped her arms around his neck and lowered her gaze to his lips, he crashed their lips together, pulling her, with one hand on her waist and another cupping her head, towards him. He could hardly contain the joy he felt at being able to finally hold the girl he loved in his arms, to feel her soft lips moulding with his, and her arms around his neck. Breaking the kiss so that she could catch her breath, he placed one more tender kiss to her throat. He panicked, however, when he felt her arms loosen around his neck and her weight sag, wrapping his arms around her back and waist to support her weight against his.

"My darling, are you not feeling well?"

To his relief, she only pressed her head against his chest and mumbled into his tunic.

"I am well. I just felt a little lightheaded, I don't think I was breathing."

Seeing that she was not fainting, and noticing a blush creeping onto her cheeks, as she once again buried her face in his chest, he could not repress a slight smile. He directed his gaze away from her so as not to embarrass her, as he said his next words.

"Do you think you can walk, my Love?"

When she shook her head against his torso, he placed an arm on the small of her back and another underneath her knees as he swept her up in his arms, delighting at the little cry of shock his love emitted at his sudden gesture. She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, even as she scolded him.

"What are you doing, my Prince?"

Smiling indulgently down at her, he pressed his forehead to hers for a moment before saying in a teasing tone, "your Prince is carrying his Princess, since you have owned that you cannot walk yourself. If I had known that kissing you would have you swooning in my arms I might have attempted it sooner." He laughed in amusement as she covered her hands with her face and pressed it against his shoulder.

"There is no need for embarrassment, my Love. You have the same effect on me." He dropped his teasing tone, investing his words with the tenderness he really felt towards her, as he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head, and began to walk her back towards the library. Holding his love in his arms, he felt that he could scarcely contain his joy, having never believed it to be a possibility. The Prince and his Princess spent many long hours afterwards, catching up on the time they had spent apart. As they talked and laughed through the evening, Prince Jacaerys did not for a moment let go of his Princess, continuing to hold her against him on his lap. Now that he had won her heart to him, he was reluctant to release her from his embrace, still fearing that this would all prove to be but a dream. Happily, Y/N seemed as reluctant as the Prince to leave his embrace, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, placing her head close to his heart.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

A Boy, A Twisted Memory and A Desire for Love

So this is the first official Ghost story on my blog. I know, I know, it's been a long time writing and I've not written something for the guy, but it's really just because I get so worried about writing him poorly.

I know he's a big military guy who hates having emotions and kills any and all kindness in his heart, but I also really like the idea of him exploring the concept of healing from his trauma? I dunno, I just thought about it.

Also, like König, I can't imagine Ghost keeping normal pets. Originally I had him get a spider, but then I read over his backstory again and it made more sense for him to get a venomous snake. I think it's a major step to overcoming his trauma. By the way! Big trigger warning, this is about a snake! This entire fic centres around a snake!

Anyways, I had some fun writing this but it made me super sad.

TW: Snake, discussion of past abuse, emotional trauma, child abuse (referenced), emotional disregulation

Wordcount: 1.7k

Art from This Post

Story Below the Cut

A Boy, A Twisted Memory and A Desire for Love

Simon locked eyes with the little black and yellow creature housed deep within its cave. It was a small thing, barely hatched from its egg it looked like. The length of a ruler at most. It was a light thing, covered in fine scales along its supple body. This thing was venomous, yes, but it couldn’t do any real damage. It was a threat maybe to a mouse, but a man such as himself wouldn't fall to such weak poison. Swelling, pain, nausea, yes. But death? Not quite.

And yet, his heart quickened within his chest. He could feel the sweat forming on his brow. It had been so long since he’d seen one of these beasts, and yet the same fear from back then wormed its way inside him now.

“Hungry?” Simon’s voice was particularly gravelly, roughened by sleep deprivation and lack of use.

The creature made no move. He’d be surprised if the thing even heard him. Did it even have ears? He’d have to ask the breeder later.

“Been a long time since I’ve seen one of yer kind before,” he admitted. He didn’t quite know why, but it felt somewhat soothing to speak to the thing.

“I killed the last one of ye that I saw. Crushed the fucker right under my boot, I did.”

It didn’t seem to scare the beast off. He wondered if it really was more afraid of him than he was of it. He hoped that was true. He didn’t want to admit that the fear still wriggled under his skin.

“He wasn’t anything like what my dad ‘ad,” Simon closed his eyes as the oppressive memories washed over him, “that one was a right bastard. Bigger than anything I’ve seen ever since. Shoved it right in my face, he did. Wouldn’t let me go till I kissed it right on the lips. If it bit me, I wouldn’t be standin’ ‘ere. But you,” Simon opened his eyes, dark eyes matching two glassy eyes of inky black, “you’re nothing. You're pathetic. You’re… You're so small.”

Simon turned back to the breeder.

Finally, the creature came to its senses and slithered back further into its burrow. So sleek and streamlined, and yet so slow to move. It was afraid of him, that Simon decided the moment he noticed that despite backing away, it didn’t dare look elsewhere.

“How much for this one?” he asked as he pointed at the plastic cube.

“That one?” the woman blinked and looked at what he was pointing at, “the female or the male?”

“The female,” Simon clarified.

“Oh she’s pretty, isn’t she?” the woman adjusted her glasses as she slid behind the plastic cube, “poor girl’s probably pretty scared being out here.” She didn’t mention how terrifying Simon was in his dark clothing, rough fabric stretched tight across his broad frame. He was used to scaring people by this point. Sometimes, like now, he wished he wasn’t.

“How do you pronounce that?” Simon pointed at the name that had been scrawled in blue ballpoint pen on a blank sticker.

“Boida dendrophila,” the woman replied, “she’s pretty young, but she’ll get big soon enough.”

“She’s one of them big ones, yeah?” Simon asked aloofly.

“You bet your arse,” the woman grinned, “she’ll be big soon enough. Don’t know much about ‘em?”

“Oh no,” Simon leaned down to take a better look at the little beast, “I’ve been doing my reading.”

“You got a big enough enclosure for her?” the woman quizzed him.

“Sure do,” Simon hummed, “I built her an enclosure myself. It’s nearly as tall as me, long too. Got some nice branches for her to climb and all that..”

“Wow that’s a lot of space. You sure that’s not too much?” the woman frowned.

“She won’t be in there for a bit, I’ve got something for while she’s small,” Simon reasoned.

What a stupid question.

“Oh well that’s fine,” the woman broke out into another smile, “but yeah she’s eating mostly baby mice, an adult once in a while. You know she’ll be eating bigger things when she’s full grown, right? You can handle that?”

“I think I’ll be quite alright,” Simon mused, “have to admit, she’s a right beauty.”

“She really is, isn’t she?” the woman gushed, “I’ve been raising her since she was just hatched. But now? Well, normally I sell them off a bit sooner, but she grew on me. Unfortunately, the husband isn’t too fond of her and wants her to be moved on.”

“Why’s that?” Simon looked at the woman from behind his sunglasses.

“Oh he got bit when she was the length of a pencil,” the woman laughed, “he’s held it against her ever since!”

“Heard her kind can get pretty feisty,” Simon commented as he looked back at the spider.

“They can get a bit aggressive, I won't lie to you. A bit territorial, too,” the woman explained carefully so as not to scare off the only interested customer she had all weekend.

“Real fast,” Simon continued on, “with nasty bites.”

“Sounds like you’ve done your reading,” the woman laughed uncomfortably.

“Course,” Simon refrained from rolling his eyes, “so how much is she? The sticker’s ripped.”

“She’s on sale, actually,” the woman grinned, “only a couple hundred quid.”

“That much, eh?” Simon straightened up to tower over the slender woman.

“Normally she could be anywhere up to four hundred,” the woman fought back against the subtle threat of intimidation.

“Well then,” Simon looked down at the cube, “looks like I got a good deal then.”

“You won’t go stompin’ on her, will you?” the woman furrowed her brows.

“No ma’am, that was just what I had to do when I went out to the Middle East,” Simon chuckled humorlessly, “I wouldn’t dream of hurtin’ this here little lady.”

The woman grinned as she counted her bills, Simon smiled just slightly as he picked up the container and brought it back to his car.

When he got home, he carefully moved the little creature into the glass enclosure of dirt, leaf litter and cork bark. He put it back in its place on his shelf and smiled.

“Dendrophila, eh?” he chuckled, “how ‘bout Ophelia? That’s a cute lil name for ya.”

The creature only burrowed away under the cork bark, eager to get out of sight of the frightening giant before her. He didn’t blame the little thing, he’d be terrified of himself if he was a younger man.

Once, he’d hardened himself into an unstoppable thing, a monster of a man. He had formed his shell through cruel lashings the world had lavished upon him. He took ablutions in raining blood. He was festering sickness or silver sin. He was what he despised in the world, the monster he tried to protect his own family from. When his brothers in arms welcomed each other warmly, they regarded him as a feral dog to be kept at a distance, chained in the backyard, out in the rain.

In Simon’s heart there was no room for love. He was not a man forged in kindness and love. He was the unfortunate son of Mr. Riley, cursed from birth to be raised in the muck and mire of human atrocities. He had been calloused by the time he was nine, and by the time he joined the military even the recruiting officers were afraid of him. He was too cruel, too strict, too much for anyone to handle. He could brute-force his way through life, but only for so long.

Even monsters had hearts. This was the unfortunate fact that Simon had learned far too late in life. He hated himself for how he wallowed in his loneliness. He thought his team would be enough, but there was a despicable part that still resided deep within him. He could offer his rotten sort of love to his teammates, but he could never care for them like he needed to. There was a part of him that had been stunted since childhood, and far too late it breached his skin to scream into his ears, begging him to please just notice me, notice me and don't let me die here inside of you.

He didn’t want to, but he spoke to a therapist. It was Price's advice after he'd broken down with a bottle of whisky in one hand and a revolver in the other. Price promised to never say a word as he unwound his lieutenant's fingers from the trigger.

A week later he'd arrived at a small office. They’d been cowed by him at first. Everyone was, but something about frightening the one person he wanted to be helped by hurt a part of Simon he wished to rip from his chest. Once he would have laughed, but in that office, he could only hurt. No tears fell, but his walls did and he was able to speak openly for the first time in his entire life without the help of a bottle of jack and a pair of dice. It felt wrong. He hated it, but he learned.

His therapist told him that to help rid himself of this festering parasite of an emotion, he should try to nurture the damned thing. Simon had laughed in the man’s face. He then told him to go to Hell. The man had learned not to flinch in the face of a predator, and so pushed forth. He said that to grow, Simon could try getting a cat or a dog. Something he could raise with the love he never had been given as a boy.

He said that he needed something to love or else he'd never be able to heal. Simon scoffed and left the room, but not before booking another appointment. The smug look on his therapist’s face disgusted him. He turned quickly and left.

So maybe it was out of spite that he bought Ophelia, but there was a part of him that felt like he needed the little creature. He needed something to love, and so he did. He loved the Ophelia with all his heart. He nurtured her and cared for her as best he could.

Months passed, and he started to handle Ophelia. She hissed, she scurried away, she did everything to get away from Simon’s touch. He figured that if he had to face himself, he’d do much the same. He wasn’t a creature born of love and compassion. He was death, in face and in heart, but each time he brought Ohpelia’s container out and changed her water, when she ate from his tongs, he could feel his rotten heart beating within his chest. It made him smile despite himself.

He was not a creature of love, and yet it was love he felt when Ophelia tentatively reached out and slithered up his hand. When he raised her up, ever so gently, he couldn’t help but cry.

How cruel was the world that a boy, born from street gutters and raised by heavy hands, would only ever feel love for the first time in a dingy London flat on his thirty-first birthday, alone save for the venomous snake in his hands?

Stories

Ghost Dump

[lakesouperior]

🐻🐤🐰🦊 just some thoughts on the fnaf movie

🐻the attention to detail that was put into it, with all it’s little details and easter eggs. the posters in the background, (and i haven’t seen anyone bring this up), the guy who got face-mauled by the cupcake wearing a midnight motorist t-shirt. the spring lock scene. the fact that scariest of all the jumpscares (of which there weren’t a lot but it’s kind of for the younger demographic ig they can’t make it too bad) was freaking balloon boy. the highest kill count going to MVP Carl the Cupcake. this is what i mean when i say movies from established franchises should be made by fans, for fans.

AND THE MATPAT CAMEO. HIS ACTING ISNT EVEN BAD AND EVEN IF IT WAS I EOULD STILL LOEV ITTT DVDNFB

🐤 you can tell they put a lot of thought into the child actors. abby is phenomenal. the five missing children? properly creepy and sad looking.

🐰 characters were all really well written and entertaining. the karen aunt, for all that she is an antagonist and very much hateable, still manages to be funny. even background characters are hilarious, like Doug for example, and don’t even get me started on the friggin matpat cameo i nearly screamed in the movie theater.

🦊 vanessa and mike are naturally each other’s narrative foils (and stand-ins for respectively Michael Afton/Elizabeth Afton (MichaElizabeth if you will) and Charlotte Emily imo), and them saying the same line, the “that’s two jobs”, mike at the beginning, and vanessa at the end, TO THE SAME CHARACTER?? TO THE BIG FUCKIN BAD HIMSELF??? WHO THEY BOTH HAVE DEEP HISTORY WITH???? literally this is good writing. i’m not saying the movie is perfect because it isn’t, but this is good writing.

🐻 and vanessa, as much as she kind of is, doesn’t feel like a coward because her worst fear does come true. her own father, the person who she thought the world of, tries to kill her as soon as she steps out of line. her fear wasn’t unjustified. she spent her entire life under his control — has literally never known anything else, and to still rebel after so long must’ve been the hardest, most terrifying thing in the world but she still did it because she’d grown to care for mike and abby.

and this is what i mean when i quote that one post: “strong female characters ≠ characters who are female and punch good, but strong female characters = well-written female characters” like yeah, vanessa’s an antagonist, or an anti-hero i suppose, but she’s still, once again, likeable and mysterious and funny. and the “bring her here again and i’ll fucking shoot you”?? that was probably her first act of true rebellion, aside from telling mike more than she should’ve about the pizzeria.

🐤 mikes arc is a very obvious “let go of the past and learn to cherish the present” which isn’t exactly revolutionary, but i think it’s done quite well though it could be improved a bit. and as much as you think he is an absolute cabbage head for telling them they could have abby for even a second, but you still, once again, get it.

our man’s running on like two hours of sleep and also meds, finally getting to see his baby brother up-close and even touch his face for the first time in probably more than a decade of blaming himself, and then getting told he could go back and see his parents again, the grief over who he probably hasn’t been able to process since he had to take care of abby when they died (possibly even took his own life in the father’s case if he’s supposed to be a henry stand-in like i think and doesn’t that just make it fifty times worse)

and it’s set up that he wants that perfect family back, the kind that he had during his childhood, that abby never got to experience.

and maybe he feels guilty for that. maybe he thinks, in his sleep-deprived and grief-ridden mind, for only a moment, that she would be better off, since she seems to like the animatronics and their ghost children better than him and he still feels like he doesn’t know how to raise a kid.

🐰 speaking of abby, for once Child Character in the horror movie isn’t just there to do some stupid shit for Plot Reasons (cough, The Curse of La Llorona, cough cough). i mean yes, she does go with them at the climax, but she has been given no reason not to trust them and considering the fact that they are other children, it would honestly be more suspicious if she didn’t trust them (also we’ve been shown she doesn’t really have friends before the end, so they’re also her first and only friends, no wonder she’s clinging to them) plus she’s been left alone with the aunt she does not like, possibly still believing mike is abandoning her. you get it.

she’s also very entertaining in her sassiness. like “are you here to arrest my brother?” or “yeah, love you too bro, kinda don’t wanna die tho, can we leave?” literally i can’t stand kids in general, but especially so in in horror movies, but i would give my life for abby.

🦊and the drawing thing? it’s beautiful and sad and really hammers home the fact that these monsters, however scary they have been made by their brutal and cruel deaths, they were, and are, just children who didn’t deserve to die and communicate the same way children like abby do. it also makes abby herself relevant to the plot and actually useful.

🐻and about abby; i have my own Theory there. we know she wasn’t in the picture during Garrett’s disappearance, which means she’s at least twelve years younger than mike. it’s actually quite common for couples who are going through a rough patch to have kids to try to fix it, which i think is what happened here, made even more possible if they also had her as a sort of replacement for Garrett. this, as i said earlier, makes mike’s indecision all the more understandable — if abby doesn’t just look a lot like Garrett, but was actually supposed to be him and would’ve never existed if not for the tragedy.

but that’s Just A Theory. 🐻🐤🐰🦊

[piss-bread]

Ectoberhaunt Day 10: Creepy

SLOW version shown here. Alt versions and extras under the readmore!

So this is being posted early because I need to post it now or else I'll keep changing it!!

I tagged this as an AU post because I am going to go OFF about this idea, I am going to YAP. Real quick, I gotta say that I am really happy with how the lettering turned out! It just reads "Phantom" but it is a letter-for-letter recreation. Maybe I'll make a full alphabet out of it!

Okay, AU time. I am in love with AUs where Danny/all the ghosts are more monstrous! I think it creates a reason for people to be scared of ghosts, and leads into Danny having a bit more disconnect between his human and ghost forms. I've also been looking more into full hazmat AUs, though I don't think I could do one of those fully myself. I decided to do a bit more with the hazmat in this AU because of that however, by giving him a mask. It's also a bit of a no one knows AU.

The idea is that Danny's hazmat had a respirator mask and goggles instead of a proper hood. Danny goes into the portal alone and keeps Phantom a secret from his friends. He does this because he is honestly freaked out by Phantom's appearance and doesn't want to scare/hurt them.

He's able to keep his friends, but they're starting to grow a little distant as of the end of Freshman year (after the episode Million Dollar Ghost, before the episode Control Freaks). One day, Phantom (poor boy is incredibly sleep deprived) gets captured during a ghost fight by a citizen, and is brought to a hospital to get turned over to an actual ghost hunter. Sam happens to be there for an injury, and as a friend of the Fenton's, she is able to get Phantom alone. She ends up helping him in exchange for him answering a question; Who was he?

Here's a quick side profile and yawning sketch ^^

A bit more about his appearance:

His skin is pitch black, it reflects only a little light. This is because it's not actually skin- just a layer of ectoplasm that functions a bit differently. His antlers are something he can choose to appear with or not, and they spark when he emotes.

The mask is his mouth, it opens up in four parts. The respirator part of his mask turned into teeth (tusks? Mandibles? He can move then so probably more akin to bug mandibles). It also gives him a bit of a muzzle.

He doesn't have true eyes, his goggles are what he sees through and they can't come off his face. There is a strap but it's just vestigial or whatever. He's a lot leaner as well.

Anyway, I don't have a ton of actual story to this AU yet? I'm calling it WillowAU because I'm unimaginative with names and have the song Willow Tree March stuck in my head. I haven't even written anything specific for it yet, the plot is loosely based on a dream I had. I have high hopes though :3

[irritablepoe]

My ao3 fics - Masterpost

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Bungou Stray Dogs

Multiple Chapters:

how do i say goodbye (22/?) - follows ranpoe's relationship post-canon

embrace the sound of enchantment (3/?) - royal au for ranpoe with ranpo as the prince and poe as his servant

communication methods (3/?) - stalker/yandere poe with a very willing and encouraging ranpo

Ranpoe Oneshots

i could never forget you - ranpo and poe decide to meet up, though even after waiting for an hour, ranpo doesn't show up; hurt/comfort

in the low lamp light i was free - ranpo comes home from defeating fyodor. poe takes care of him

too much at once - poe is overwhelmed at a party; ranpo takes care of him

the feverish heat of yours - omegaverse au, omega!poe and alpha!ranpo

awake on a midsummer night - poe has his obsessive moments. ranpo does too.

do you regret meeting me? - ranpo asks poe exactly that; poe shows him how much he loves him

(un)holy ghost who haunts your home - poe has a dissociative episode when he's outside with ranpo

betrayal from the beginning - poe is kidnapped by fitzgerald; ranpo saves him

meet me on the rooftop - ranpo and poe have a conversation on a rooftop while looking at a sunset

keeping an eye out (while i flirt with you) - bartender au, lots of flirting

you hold me hypnotized, i'm mesmerized - character study/inner monologue of poe

mine to possess - pre-canon poe and his brother talk about ranpo; he's at his worst here

a worthy opponent - may the better one win - pre-canon interaction of ranpoe before the mystery game

Other Oneshots:

kill me with your kindness (i'll gladly surrender) - fyolai; fyodor needs a hug

bleeding memories - mushimizo; character study

tell me you're part of me - fyodor and poe meet because of business; fyodor tries to get poe on his side

a hat a day keeps the bad thoughts away - multiple fandoms; crack fic about hats

are you getting sentimental with me now? - poe and fitzgerald; poe is at his worst when he shows up to breakfast; fitzgerald takes care of him

shared grief of broken men - fitzgerald and poe talk a bit about grief and life

courtesy visit - gone wrong (no clickbait) - poe and lovecraft go on a mission together

a ship for the two of us - bramcraft; they're enjoying a meal (a ships crew) together :3

Moriarty The Patriot

pillows to ride on in a maid dress - louis; i'll not elaborate, the title says it all

need a little help with that? - continuation of "pillows to ride on in a maid dress" with james bonde

Vicious

let this bullet pierce you - victor finally hunting eli down

torture me lightly - post-canon; victor sees hallucinations

with my last breath i think of you - victor dies and thinks of eli

Crime and Punishment

your help heals all my wounds (17/?) - post-canon events of crime and punishment; razras; dunya/sonya

affection - oneshot; razras

there will come a soldier and a poet - lotr au; poet!raskolnikov and soldier!razumikhin

Jackaby

not a word of gratitude - jackaby is alone. he'll always end up alone

don't turn away with this heavy heart of yours - abigail and jackaby talk about jackaby's emotions

Arcane

rest now - viktor is extremely sleep-deprived and faints. jayce finds him

these are not all of my fics, if you want more go check out my other works. a lot of them are written for whumptober 2023, so mind the tags on them. mind the tags in general lol.

the fics are all restricted to ao3 users only because of ai scrapping, i'm very sorry

thank you for reading through this and if you decide to read them thank you as well it means a lot to me <3

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[saturnskyline]

fic authors self rec! when you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. spread the self-love~<333333

🥰🥰🥰 thank you babs!! i really appreciate it <333

this is actually very easy for me, since i only have five fics on ao3 lol. that being said, i can now advertise them all hehe

you're everything, my perception of love

kinnporsche the series, vegas/pete, oneshot, rated t, 3.8k

simple summary: pete doesn't safeword when he should have and drops, but vegas is able to help him and they work through things together <3 featuring shibari as a calming mechanism, mild angst, and post-canon hurt/comfort

this was my first fic on ao3 and the first time i'd written for a long time, and it's still one that i'm really proud of 🥹 i was pretty nervous to post it but i actually think it's pretty good. also fairly self-indulgent if we're being real lol

i'll water you carefree, i'll rise you up high as the sun

kinnporsche the series, vegas/pete, oneshot, rated t, 2.8k

simple summary: post-canon vegas grows a garden and has feelings about it. featuring food as a metaphor for love and vegas mom lore (sorely needed)

pure brainrot that i tried my best to work into a character study lol. can't take credit for the concept whatsoever but i wanted to write my own take on the gardener vegas agenda and this was it!

just a ghost in your eye

dexter, dexter & brian, oneshot, rated m, 1.8k

simple summary: just dexter being introspective about his brother and his future. we love a vibes-based fic in this household!

shocked myself by not only writing more than two fics, but writing one for a separate fandom haha. just goes to show that murderous brothers with a complicated bond will always have my heart

in your dreams (i'm all you see)

kinnporsche the series, vegas/pete, multichapter, rated e, 8.5k

simple summary: vegas suggests somno stuff one day, pete agrees, and then it escalates from there, aka sleep deprivation leading to more somno stuff

i wrote this for nevertheless/nev_longbottom, my beloved bestie, as part of the hedgehog server winter exchange of 2023 :) definitely my biggest fic accomplishment yet, since i had neither attempted smut nor a multichaptered work before, but i am very proud of how it turned out! also just very fun to let these two be as unhinged as possible lol

found my place in a twisted rib cage

kinnporsche the series, vegas/pete/macau, oneshot, rated e, 9.9k

simple summary: macau gets home one night and walks in on vegas and pete having a Moment, with pete in subspace...... and then it all goes down (figuratively and literally)

shared most of this via bursts of 2am inspiration with my dear discord besties and was beyond taken aback that it became fully realized 😭 but yet another work that i am proud of! hopped aboard the smut express and promptly crashed into the incest ravine. if you will. might even become a series?? who knowssss

[blobghost]

Blobby's Master List

You can find all my writing under the tag #blobby wrote something or you can look below! Click fic title to take you to its post! (In order of oldest to newest)

Ectober 2021 Masterlist (DP)

ectober ficlets

Exhausted Teen to Eternal King (DP)

Essentially exiled from Amity after a reveal gone wrong, Danny is on his way to becoming High King of the Infinite Realms. With a quick stop by the Core, who tells him about being an Ancient and something concerning about how the portal works, Danny ‘survives’ his final trial and coronation with only like ten different new things to worry about! Now, he just has to face his parents, stop the permanent portal that killed him, and repair a giant hole in reality. So like just another Tuesday for him. Written for Invisobang '23.

Anaktáomai: regain for oneself, recover (DPxDC)

Jason is trying to live his second chance at life to the fullest: protecting Gotham's streets as the Red Hood, going to college to get a degree, participating in Gotham's Renaissance Faire, getting a boyfriend, all of it. Sure, he's been daydreaming a lot more and it might be becoming a major problem and his boyfriend is apparently a meta who saved his kid brother after a mission gone wrong, but as far as he was concerned those were nothing to worry about. What he does need to worry about is homework and rogues attempting to kill him… right?

Take the L (DP)

Dash wants nothing more than to be a hero. When he gets a chance to be Phantom's hero for once, he takes it. Things get complicated when Dash finds out that his dad is Operative L of the GiW and demands that Dash hand over Phantom. Can Dash make things right or is everything doomed to go wrong?

Blobs of Love (DP)

Danny has been protecting Amity Park alone for what feels like years. After a long day of sleep deprivation and various rogues pushing him to his limit, he finally starts breaking down when he can't fully switch from Phantom to Fenton. Unfortunately, certain blobs who love him can't stand to see him break so bring in some help. Written for Ecto-Implosion '23.

Battle for the Ancient Realms (DP)

After having to go to the Far Frozen to check why his ghost sense is acting up, Danny finds himself the primary target during a fight with Dan and Pariah Dark. Things get more complicated when the Ancient Seals of the Barren Realms become involved. Now, Danny has to learn about the Ancients and the new powers these Seals provide the wearer before once again fighting the two hardest foes he's ever faced. Written for Ecto-Implosion '23.

Danny Doesn't Want To Go... (DP)

Five times someone drags Danny somewhere he didn't want to go and one time he drags them somewhere. Written for Phandom Truce '23.

Holding Each Other Back (DPxDC)

When the GIW appear in Gotham, Jason finds himself needing to find out what they are up to. Unfortunately, they find him first and use him as the nice sacrifice for their Ghost King summoning. Will Jason be able to fight his way out of this mess with his secrets (and life) in tact? Written for Ecto-Implosion '23.

I Know What You Are. You're (Not) a Goon. (DPxDC)

Jason can't figure out why his boyfriend keeps missing or being late to dates. He thinks that Danny is a goon, but it's only a theory. He might get his answers from the newest Justice League member Phantom, though. Written for Valentine's Core Exchange '24.

[beetleisblue]

BLUE’S TOH TICKLE FIC MASTERLIST

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DUN DUN DUUUN! ITS HERE! FIND ALL THE FLUFF IN ONE POST, PEOPLE!

(Everything here is STRICTLY sfw.)

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Lee: Luz

Ler: Amity

Summary: Luz has a bad day at school in the Human Realm. Amity decides she’s in dire need of cheering up.

Lee: Amity

Ler: Luz

Summary: Timeskip Amity has tight calves and Luz massages them, giggles ensue.

Ler: Beta!Amity/Amelia

Lee: Amity

Summary: In a sibling Au, Amity goes to visit her big sister, Amelia, who’s been living on her own for a while. The two catch up for lost time, and Amelia gets her sister to lighten up.

Ler: Willow and Luz

Lee: Amity and Luz

Summary: a very sleep deprived willow convinces Luz and Amity to go to bed already!

Lee:Luz

Ler: Ghost and Amity

Summary: Ghost must decide if Luz is worthy of Amity’s kisses!

Lee: Luz

Ler: Amity

Summary: Luz and Amity play connect 4. Amity wins. Ticklish Chaos ensues.

Lee: Amity!

Ler: Luz

Summary: Amity overworks herself and gets into a grumpy mood, but her girlfriend knows what to do to get her out of her head >:]

MORE TO BE ADDED! (I also take requests, feel free to shoot me an ask!)

[the-stars-in-between]

Conclusion after my first Whumptober participation: 11 stories. Not too bad, more than I expected, but the moment I realized I was allowed to sleep instead of continuing to write it was over for me. Overall it was a fun experience — for me, not for the characters — and the prompts gave me ideas I never would have thought of without it, so thank you @whumptober.

However! I will finish this challenge whether it is finishing the stories I already started or those that are not yet written. I am not giving up. My goal is to finish by the end of January considering that I have a big break for Christmas but nothing is guaranteed.

I leave you now the links of the stories that are already posted and I will update each time I post a new story.

DAY 1 & DAY 19: Every Day You Fight Like You're Running Out Of Time (Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester)

Sam gets lost in the forest. This action has consequences.

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)

No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

Luffy relives the worst day of his life, over and over again.

DAY 2: Again. (Monkey D. Luffy)

No. 2: ALTERNATIVE  Time Loop

Dean is going to die, Sam doesn't know what to think about it.

DAY 3: Did You Bring Me Some Pie? (Sam Winchester)

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

Law can't escape, even in his dreams. Especially in his dreams.

DAY 4: A Good Night's Sleep (Trafalgar D. Water Law)

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

Luffy can stretch and stretch, but he can't escape his pain.

DAY 5: If My Pain Will Stretch That Far (Monkey D. Luffy)

No. 5: SUNBURN Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

Bobby is bleeding out, but family doesn't end in blood.

DAY 6: Blood On The Car Seats (Bobby Singer)

No. 6: NOT REALIZING THEY'RE INJURED Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

The heart of a demon, willingly given, is a powerful weapon for the one who wields it.

DAY 7: The Heart of a Demon (Crowley)

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

Zoro can't sleep, ghosts come to keep him company.

DAY 8: Nightmares Don't Sleep (Roronoa Zoro)

No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)

Castiel is learning to be human. It hurts. In more ways than one.

DAY 10: Did It Hurt When You Fell From Heaven? (Castiel)

No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.” (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)

DAY 11: Fade Away Into The Sunset (Sam Winchester)

No. 12: STARVATION Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."

DAY 12: (Nico Robin)

The end of a crew. The end of a legend.

DAY 13: Till Death Do Us Part (Straw Hat Pirates)

No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)

No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted” (tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn)

DAY 14: (Shanks)

The cycle repeats itself.

DAY 15: The Father's Mistakes Fall on the Son's Shoulders (Dean Winchester, Jack Kline)

No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

No. 16: NECROSIS Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

DAY 16: Where Dreams Go To Die (Sanji)

No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."

DAY 17: In the Dark You Can't Tell Ink and Blood Apart (Nami)

No. 18: REVENGE Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes)

DAY 18: (Sabo)

No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

DAY 20: (Charlie Bradbury)

No. 21: BODY HORROR Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.” (Apparat feat. Soap & Skin, Goodbye)

DAY 21: D.E.A.T.H. (Trafalgar D. Water Law)

No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."

DAY 22: (Jack Kline)

No. 9: OBSESSION Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.” (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible) No. 23: FORCED CHOICE Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."

DAY 23 (+DAY 9): The Hand That Saves Is The Same As The Hand That Wounds (Gabriel)

No. 24: RADIATION POISONING Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)

DAY 24: Embracing the Sun (Portgas D. Ace)

No. 25: SURGERY Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."

DAY 25: Grit Your Teeth, Everything Will Be Fine (Sam Winchester)

No. 26: NIGHTMARES Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” (Poe, Haunted)

DAY 26: (Claire Novak)

No. 27: VOICELESS Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

DAY 27: EX-FL02 (Portgas D. Ace)

No. 29: FATIGUE Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"

DAY 29: Run Rabbit, Run (Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester)

No. 30: RECOVERY Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?" No. 28: ALTERNATIVE  No-Holds-Barred Beatdown

DAY 30 (+DAY 28): When the Sun Dies, the Stars Go With It (Portgas D. Ace, Sabo)

No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well." (Elliot Lee, Alive, Not Well.)

DAY 31: The Hardest Things To Say (Dean Winchester)

[ghostly-penumbra]

20 Qs for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag, @summerssixecho!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

Thirty-six as of now! Most of them are still from events (I put all the filled prompts in one work per event, don’t @ me), but when I really like one of these I post it as a stand-alone :) and I have a few fics outside events too! Woo!

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

132,746 as of right now, but I’ll still finish Ectober so that’ll change quickly. (and as I said before, some fics I post "twice", in the event's work, and as a stand-alone)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Danny Phantom almost exclusively, the exception are the CrossOvers :p

I love The Sandman and Supernatural ones. I’m into DPxDC as well.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Seven Ways to Summon the Ghost King (1,187 kudos): Seven different ways in which a tired, stressed and sleep-deprived King of Ghosts can be summoned!

Results may vary.

Holiday Gift 2022 (439 kudos): ALL ghosts need to honour the truce. Including those who don't know they're considered part ghost.

Poison Blood and Weighted Crowns (408 kudos): The Justice League asked for help to the Ghost King.

The King demanded Jason Todd in exchange.

Jokingly, Robin accepted.

King Plasmius had the deal be honoured.

Ectober Week 2021 (365 kudos)

DannyMay 2021 (243 kudos)

5. Do you respond to comments?

YUP. Sometimes I forget and only see it years later tho. But I do like answering comments so I try my best! If I don’t answer is ‘cause I can’t think of anything else to say but I still try! (I don’t really answer in FFN anymore tho, because I forget if I’ve already answered and I don’t remember how to check that, and I don’t want to accidentally answer twice lmao)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uhh… not a big fan of angst, and even though I tried my hand at it in the past don’t remember where I put it anymore

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

Dragon :') Danny gets dental! (lol ok, I can’t really tell, idk)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

My fics ain’t popular enough to get hate I believe lol.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

LOL. I WROTE LEMON ONCE. YEARS AND YEARS AGO (almost ten year now. I was fourteen). After that, I haven’t, but I have an idea for a fic and if I actually get to write it I know it would be explicit.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

asdfghjjklñ I fucking love CrossOvers so much. I’ve written some "niche" ones but I believe the craziest/crackiest was Doors :))

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

None that I know of. (Again, not popular enough lol)

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Other than ramble with the discord buddies, nope I haven’t.

13. What's your all-time favourite ship?

None tbh, I do like some ships but I’m aro and I don’t really have an OTP.

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

Not much in the way of WIPs but I do have several plot bunnies I entertain before discarding.

On DPxDC I had a demon twin AU where Damian killed Danny as a kid with pressure from Ra’s al Ghul, and they met again after many years, with Damian as Robin and Danny as the Ghost King… and Danny didn’t forgive Damian. I had a lot planned and wanted to include a lot of worldbuilding, but ultimately I decided I couldn’t give Damian’s character justice as I was projecting heavily on my broken relationship with my abusive brother, and Damian deserved better than to be compared to my brother.

Also DPxDC, the aforementioned explicit work, which would be Danny/Valerie/Jason, with them dealing with being ecto-entities with the ecto-acts in place, Danny dealing with being King and trying to be an astronaut, Valerie coping with her feelings on her nature and her Wayne scholarship, and Jason being a crime lord with a family of vigilantes, and their broken yet existing relationships. As they navigated the complex ensuing dynamics, they dismantled the GIW and took down the Ecto-Acts.

I would also like to do more for Dragon, but I really don’t feel like it rn

16. What are your writing strengths?

Instrospection and mindscapes, if I can say so.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Anything that isn’t introspection and mindscapes.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Naruto :)

20. Favourite fic you've written?

aughdabdsufsda, I don’t really know, I love several of them for different reasons, but maybe Father and Sons? I love Clockwork and I love my Sandman crossovers, so I liked mixing both.

I’m not tagging anyone, but I encourage anyone to try! It was really fun!

[callofdooty]

If I Wake Up And Accidentally Crawl Into Your Arms

Also posted onto Ao3

Fandom: Call of Duty: Ghosts

Summary: Written for Whumpril 2023 Day 2's Prompts of Stress, Insomnia and "Get some rest."

"But in times like this (times like right now, where he's sat up in bed, chewing at his own nails, praying to whatever the fuck is out there that he doesn't wake up Kick, blissfully asleep beside him) the thoughts aren't just incomprehensible noise. No. They all swirl back around to the same thing, discordant shrieks and wails crackling inside his head, sending ripples of pure discomfort to stretch across his skin- his nerves - under one unified point of interest.

The eye of the storm, the source of it all, is his brother.

His brother, who's out there somewhere. Alone. At the mercy of a merciless enemy.

Hesh wonders if their heads are just as loud as each other."

OR. Hesh struggles to sleep as the Ghosts search for Logan. Kick provides a little comfort.

Rating: Gen

Relationships: David "Hesh" Walker/Kick

Warning/labels: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Stress, Insomnia, Self-Hatred, Sleep Deprivation

-

Night hours were always the most conflicting for Hesh. While the day often brought an avalanche's worth of distractions - duties, responsibilities and the like - the night was mostly void of them. A time where the world became quiet; settled, even just a little.

In the day, the distractions made it easy for thoughts to escape. No time for dwelling, or mulling things over. Sometimes, it proved stressful. But most of the time, it was welcome. Hesh always preferred the physical, he didn't like to get stuck on things that he couldn't solve. Especially if said things weren't worth solving in the first place. 

At night, though, the thoughts themselves are the distraction. Trapped, clouding around until thunderstorms raged on in his skull, making any semblance of sleep nigh-on impossible. Seemed like as soon as the sun sank down below the horizon, all of buzzing and noise around him found sanctuary inside his head. A lot of the time, there's so much going on that even Hesh himself doesn't know what he's thinking. It's all too loud; a cacophony of nothing and everything all at once. 

But in times like this (times like right now, where he's sat up in bed, chewing at his own nails, praying to whatever the fuck is out there that he doesn't wake up Kick, blissfully asleep beside him) the thoughts aren't just incomprehensible noise. No. They all swirl back around to the same thing, discordant shrieks and wails crackling inside his head, sending ripples of pure discomfort to stretch across his skin- his nerves - under one unified point of interest.

The eye of the storm, the source of it all, is his brother.

His brother, who's out there somewhere. Alone. At the mercy of a merciless enemy. 

Hesh wonders if their heads are just as loud as each other. 

Fuck. 

Logan's out there, and he's suffering; dying from the inside out and Hesh isn't helping. He's just... fucking around, fumbling like an idiot. Wasting day after day after day, getting nowhere closer to finding him, to bringing him back home, to safety.

It's been haunting him for a while, though he dreads to think of a solid measurement for it. Weeks, months, fucking years? He doesn't know right now. And either way, any stretch of time would be too long. In efforts to derail that particular train of thought, he shakes his head, instead laying his eyes on Kick. He's fast asleep, breaths steady, a contrast to the chaos raging on inside Hesh's head.

Kick is always steady. And Hesh would be lying if he wasn't a little envious of it. He's been heralded as a leader before; fuck, even Merrick seemed to think as much. And maybe he was, at some point. But now, ever since... the beach... he's been out of sorts. Seems like Rorke kicked the leader qualities right out of his fucking head, because God knows he's nothing more than a mess, even if he's mostly able to keep it under wraps, only letting it show around the other Ghosts. Where he was once practical and collected, he's now a desperate, despairing mess. A failure that couldn't save his father or his brother from a single man.

Would Logan have been in this same state? Would he be just as destroyed if it was Hesh that had been taken? Part of him wants to say yes. Wants to imagine that both of them would crumble in the face of pressure and grief. But another part of him, a louder part, is repulsed by the idea alone. Logan's nowhere near as pathetic.

Fuck, he's so tired.

Sleep has been an issue for far too long at this point. He's pretty sure the last "good" sleep he got was when he passed out after being picked up that damned beach. And that was hardly, as they say, "restful" - at least not for his wandering mind. It's all this... noise. It's hard to ignore, impossible to dampen, even with his best attempts. Constant, persistent. And it doesn't matter if he stays awake the whole night ruminating, by the next sunset he'll once again be stuck listening to a beehive that only he can hear.

But he can at least try.

As quietly and carefully as he can, he lays back down, pressing against Kick, as if just by being close, he could absorb some of that steadiness for himself. It doesn't work, of course. And instead, he's just subject to more thoughts, making him sigh shakily into Kick's neck, tears springing to his eyes.

"Hesh?" He freezes. Kick's sleepy mumbling hit him like ice water, far from the comfort and warmth it'd usually bring. He doesn't answer. He can't. But in doing so, it only seems to make Kick more alert, as he shuffles and pulls back a little, and Hesh makes the smallest of whines that seems far too loud against the everything-and-nothing.  "Hesh, what's wrong?" 

Instead of answering, Hesh sits up again, knees coming up to his chest. He manages all but a second of eye contact before he breaks it, instead letting his gaze wander the room that's only lit by rogue moonlight. He traces the shapes and shadows in the darkness, as if any of it would hold answers, would magically fix everything and bring Logan right back to where he should be. 

To noone's surprise, the revelation doesn't come. Instead, Kick sighs. It's small, would hardly be audible if not for the deafening silence, but it weighs heavy on Hesh's heart all the same.

There's been a lot of sighing lately. From Hesh, to Hesh, about Hesh. 

A bitter, perhaps selfish, part of him wonders when Kick - when all of them - will finally have had enough of him.

If they've already reached that point, Kick makes no show of it. He speaks again; softly, quietly and in a gentle manner that Hesh doesn't feel worthy of.

"Thinking about Logan again?"

Hesh closes his eyes to block the tears that start spilling out, one by one. His throat constricts painfully around nothing.

"I just..." he chokes out, just barely. "Fuck, he's... He's waiting on me, Kick..." It's a fight to contain himself, to stop himself from turning into a sobbing mess right then and there.

"Waiting on us, Hesh." Kick reminds him, "And we'll find him. We're not going to give up until we do." A hand lands on his arm and tugs slightly, coaxing him to let go of where they're curled around his knees. "C'mere."

He lets himself be pulled back down into Kick's awaiting arms, and lets out another shaky sigh against Kick's chest.

"I feel useless." It's an undignified whimper, one that he'll probably beat himself up over later, but in the moment, it's all he can muster up as a response. 

"I know, I know..." Kick soothes, "We're doing all we can. But right now, there's not a whole lot you can do. And I know it's hard, but you should try and get some rest, okay?" He pulls back again just to look Hesh in the eyes, a hand coming up to cup his cheek, wiping away stray tears with his thumb. "You've done enough, Hesh. You're doing enough. Just because we haven't got there doesn't mean we haven't got results. We'll find him soon. But you can't help him if you're running on empty."

The more Kick speaks, the more the noise in his head settles, leaving him exhausted, both mentally and physically. The thunder is still there, but now it's softer. Distant. Muffled. A lull, like ocean waves; though he doesn't like to think about that kind of thing anymore. For once, he is able to stop his mind from wandering, focusing on the warmth of his partner insteaad. He's certain that he would've stayed awake all night, had Kick not woken up. But now, while he can, he lets himself admit defeat. He lets the tiredness take hold.

"Yeah... You're right..." he mutters before turning more sheepish, "...Sorry for waking you." 

"I'd rather you wake me up than suffer alone like that, sweetheart." A soft kiss is pressed to his forehead, and then he's free to bury himself into Kick's chest completely. The third sigh he lets out is once again shaky, but contented as they wrap themselves in each others arms, and quickly the exhaustion starts to settle in, already beginning to pull him under.

"L've you..." is the last thing he can think to say, practically (blissfully) half asleep.

"I love you, too, Hesh." Kick hums, and just as he drops off, he hears the added hush: "Always will."

[bbygirl-aemond]

Hey! I Love Stormbreak, you make my Sundays less scary Lol. Keep writing!

I was wondering if you've ever written any original work or if you've ever considered becoming a traditionally published author?

aww thank you so much! always happy to help with the sunday scaries, i get them too and answering comments is an excellent distraction hehe

i have written some original work before, but none of it's published. when i was really young i wrote two novel-length original works. i don't remember them very well, but one was some elf-like fantasy world where the main character was the bastard slave child of an evil king, and the other was a modern setting with vampires and what i know as an adult to be some kind of illegal human trafficking? not like a sex kind, like a "humans are living blood bags" kind. so you can definitely say i've enjoyed whump and fantasy from the beginning?

in more recent years, i've written some short stories (<10k words). there's one about a society that uses happy memories as currency, with a mom giving up a memory of her daughter walking for the first time. there's another about an astronaut who's sent to mars to help terraform it, only to realize she's been tricked and the government is leaving her there to die. my favorite is about a closeted lesbian witch in a salem-esque setting who's driven insane by the ghost of her first love, who was a victim of anti-witch hysteria. so again... heavy on the angst lmao.

right now, i enjoy writing fanfiction because it requires very little actual effort and discipline. it's almost entirely wish fulfillment, and you get to jump in with fully-formed characters, world, and plot, skipping the boring exposition. it's also "safe" because any pressure to create, or criticism, is purely online, so i never feel trapped by it. i think this type of creative writing suits my current situation (sleep-deprived phd student) where i just don't have a ton of time or patience to deal with any of those things.

all that being said- i DO very much plan on spending the majority of my life writing and publishing original works of varying lengths. i'm in a very fortunate financial position where i don't actually have to work a regular job, and the older i get the more i appreciate how privileged that makes me in my ability to actually center my life around creating for creativity's sake- completely divorced from any need to publish by a certain date or appeal to a wide audience in order to make profits. so i only plan on really working up until i turn 30 (which will admittedly still give me 6 years post-phd in the workforce). after that i'll have full reign over how i allocate my free time, and that's when i'll be able to put in the elbow grease required for a longer original work.

...so like a decade from now, check back in and there will probably be some highly dramatic, psychologically intense, at least somewhat magical works hitting the shelves, written by yours truly.

[tanoraqui]

1, 4, 15, 18, 26, and 27!

[ask meme]

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? How did it turn out and would you do it again?

And What Came Next is barely a "fic" - there is no plot arc and maybe 5% of a character arc. It's just some scenes of varying degrees of completeness connected by what's basically just written-out headcanon, mostly fluffy, post-"canon" for my Silmarillion OC Celechwes and her family, including OC children. It's the sort of thing that usually just lives in my head and in random chats with friends. But so many people have been so eagerly supportive of Celechwes and her story, and I've been trying to lean into AO3 as an archive not just for truly polished fanworks but all fannish creations I want to save - with the guideline that if I would want to read this stuff from someone else, the collected headcanons and bullet-point fics, shouldn't I share my own? So I posted it and lo, people liked it! They exclaimed excitedly in the comments!

Moral of the story: if you're worried that what you're posting is too self-indulgent and incomplete, it's not. There is no such thing. Admittedly it helps that I'd already spent about 65k establishing the relevant characters in a fic that did have plot and character arcs.

4. What piece of media inspired you the most?

Well, obviously I was still on this Silmarillion kick for most of the year... (It's fading now, but I have some really good WIPs that I'm determined to finish.)

Ooh but my favorite new books of the year were the Heartstrikers series by Rachel Aaron! Urban fantasy ft. internecine draconic family politics, vengeful nature spirits and genii locorum, aggressively offered and maintained friendship as a problem-solving method, manipulative seers as another problem-solving method, ghost cats (and armies of undead) as yet a third option, a couple apocalypses, pest control, compelling characters with opposing agendas and vivid worldbuilding and all that good stuff! I want to reread them and then maybe write a next-gen story.

15. Rec a fic you wrote or posted in 2023

My favorite little thing I wrote is this of Maedhros returning to what once was Himring.

18. What was the hardest fic to title?

Oh, god. "And What Comes Next" is so hopelessly generic, which I guess is appropriate given its content. I'm not really satisfied with "The Struggle of Squeamishness" (S&D Tier). "Magic Traps" was hard specifically because the whole Kate Daniels series has titles in this very specific form - Magic Binds, Magic Bleeds, Magic Triumphs, etc - and I wanted to follow it, but all the best words were already used.

26. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

I worked really hard and for nearly a year, in bits and pieces, on The Minstrel and the Star, trying to capture this very messily nuanced but intense relationship, including an air of worship that I really don't normally go in for, and I'm still not sure I managed to express it exactly as I envision it... But one reviewer described it as "Numinous as well as luminous", which is so exactly what I intended that I must have done something right.

27. Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

Er, usually I go to bed. Bedtime is the #1 effective deadline for me to grit my teeth and figure out how to write the last few lines of any given fic. Write sleep-deprived, edit sober, as they say.