#will eventually be uploaded to ao3

[nyhne]

(Cover Art by @fafayayarhen )

APH - Veiled Desires [SpAus/PruAus], Chapter I

SpAus | (background/one-sided PruAus; background NedPort) | fairytale AU | rated E

READ IT ON AO3 | FF

Handsome, lonely Prince Antonio ventures into the woods outside the Kingdom borders and discovered a pristine lake with a beautiful secret: every night, a solitary swan with feathers as white as snow descends to its waters and transforms into a young man unlike anyone the Prince has ever seen. At first glance, Prince Antonio knows that he must have the creature for his own, but little does he know that bringing the swan back to be his bride will have him playing a role in a more complicated story than at first it seems.

Fairytale AU based on the various "swan maiden" stories. Part of a collaboration with @fafayayarhen who drew the amazing cover piece!!!!!!! And has helped me come up with this whole dang AU!!

---

Whewww so excited to finally have this out!! There are a lot of warnings for this fic, so please see the Ao3 tags for the full list. :x This fic is already complete so it'll be posted on a regular(ish) schedule. Hope you enjoy this dum little AU as much as we have!

[dendrogynous]

(wip) they seem to be very close friends

[iamthecomet]

hey hey hey i will literally gift you my first born to see the dew & cumulus fleshlight fic i am setting up the ritual as we speak i am serious

Hi, yes, hello. I come barring gifts. Good news is: I do not require firstborn children. But I do take payment in baked goods. In other words:

Kinktober Day 12 - Toys/Orgasm Denial.

A little over 1.5k of mostly unedited Cumulus/Dewdrop, fleshlight usage, mean (in her own special way) Cumulus, and overconfident Dew.

tagging @miasmaghoul because I can.

Cumulus finds the toy in Dew’s bathroom. Sitting on the corner of the sink. Beads of water still clinging to the plastic folds. She looks at it. Touches the silicone. She drags her fingers over the opening. It’s vaguely vaginal in look, but feels cold, a little too stiff. There’s very little softness when she dips her fingers into the hole. Silicone clinging to her fingers. 

She thinks of the little ghoul, spread out naked on his bed. Hard already. Waiting for her. The desperate way he’d nuzzled up to her. His fingers dragging along the inside of her wrist, over her thigh. A hand slipping between them while they sat and watched the movie with the rest of the pack. Squeezing every once in a while. Solid and warm. 

She can’t help but think of him using this. Hips rabbit quick as he holds it in one hand. Sweat beading on his brow, as he fucks a silicone approximation of a cunt when he has copious options for the real thing just a handful of doors down the hall. 

She tucks some of her snowy curls behind her ear. Looks at her reflection in the mirror. Lips already kiss bitten. Nipples pebbled against the thin cotton of her worn t-shirt. She curls her fingers around the toy, and walks out of the bathroom. Back into the oppressive heat of Dew’s room. 

He’s where she left him. Sitting up against his headboard. Legs crossed. Cock half hard against his hip. Hands behind his head. Lounging in the flickering glow of the fire in his hearth. She holds the toy behind her back. Sways back and forth a little as his eyes flick over to her. 

“What’cha got?” He asks, pale eyebrow quirking up. A smirking digging at the corners of his lips. 

She climbs up onto the bed next to him before she shows him. Producing the fleshlight from behind her back with a flourish. Dew groans. Eyes closing, head thumping back against the headboard. 

“Lus, come on.” 

“Am I not good enough for you now?”

He opens his eyes to slits to peer at her. He curls an arm around her waist, glues her body to his. “You know that isn’t–”

“You sure? Looks like you just used it–”

He rolls his eyes. Eyes darting between her face and the toy. “Swiss got it for me as a joke.” 

“And you tried it anyway.” 

He deadpans. “Can you blame me?”

She can’t. Especially not with her extensive collection of dildoes and straps. She’d stick her dick in it too if she had one. But the way he’s blushing about it makes warmth pool low in her stomach. 

“How was it?” she asks. Can’t help it. She’s under his skin and she has to stay there. Wiggle deeper. She rests her head against his chest while she waits for him to talk. Takes the option away from him to look at her face. His fingers clench on her side. 

“Didn’t even cum in it.” 

“No? Why not?” 

Dew shrugs beneath her a little too quick. “Dunno. Couldn’t.” 

Cumulus is glad Dew can’t see the way her face splits into a smile. She flicks her tongue out to trace over his nipple. He hisses. She hears his head thump against the headboard again. He’s going to give himself a concussion if he doesn’t stop. 

“Show me.” 

He tenses beneath her. The hand carding up and down her spine pauses mid-stroke. She nuzzles against him when he doesn’t answer right away. She kisses him wherever she can reach. Soft lingering brushes of her lips. She circles his nipple with her tongue, sucks on it just enough to make him gasp. 

“Why?” 

She tugs on his piercingwith her teeth. He arches against her. He digs blunted nails into her back, holds her closer. She shrugs. 

“You say you can’t cum in it, prove it.” 

Dew stills again and Cumulus waits for him to say no. To back out of this. She’ll let him. She’ll toss the toy aside and slide into his lap. Sit on his face. Ride him until he gets misty-eyed. It’s easy, a game. 

So she’s surprised when he pulls the silicone from her hand. She straightens up. Moves out of the circle of his arm to sit higher on the bed, her shoulder brushing his as she settles in to watch. 

He spits on his hand, gives himself a couple of cursory stokes just to get himself wet, and then pushes in. Bringing the toy down on his straining length.  He winces as he does, looking over at her with his eyebrows raised as if he’s already won the game by not blowing it the second he pushed inside. 

“You should use more lube, it might be better.” 

Dew drags the toy up and down his length a few times. He shrugs. “It’s fine.” 

Cumulus rolls her eyes.

“Let me help.”  She reaches between her legs, dipping her fingers into her shorts to drag them through her folds. Already slick. She drags her fingers over her clit a few times. Gasping at the pressure. Dew watches her with hungry blown-out eyes. 

When she pulls her fingers free, glistening with slick, Dew gives a half-hearted protest. She ignores him.. She bats his hand away and grabs the toy, pulling it off of him just long enough for her to stick her slick fingers into it. Smearing herself over the inside of it with a few quick passes. 

She slides it back down over his cock and this time, he does groan. Maybe from the wet heat of her clinging to the plastic inside. Maybe because she’s the one with her hand wrapped around the sleeve. She doesn’t know. But the blush that rises on his cheeks after makes her stomach flip. 

“May I?” 

Dew nods. “Y–yeah. Sure.” 

Cumulus rises up on her knees. Settles in next to him and sets a pace. Slow strokes. She doesn’t squeeze too hard, makes sure he can’t feel the shape of her fingers through it, that would be cheating. But she fucks him the way she knows he likes. A nice easy build-up. Languid for a while, build up speed the more time passes. 

She keeps her eyes on his face–he watches her hand. Dew tries to keep a straight face–to pretend everything he said before was true. That he didn’t really like it. That he can’t cum inside of it. But the little rolls of his hips tell another story. He has one hand on Cumulus’ thigh, gripped tight. Dimpling into soft flesh. 

She moves a little faster, a little harder. She leans over just a little, enough so that she knows her tits bounce in her shirt with each stroke. She’s playing dirty–she doesn’t care. 

The first groan she rips from him is low and ragged. It takes him by surprised. He swears at the end of it, caught in his own lie. She raises an eyebrow. 

“Is it good?” 

“Shut up,” he bites out. Hips jerking up into the sleeve. She could stop moving it now–stop jerking him off with it. He’d fuck himself silly in it she held it still. But there’s little fun in that. He’s coming apart at the seams. Desperate to be right, and failing miserably.

“Come on, Dew. Tell me. Is it going to make you cum?”  She tips her voice towards sweet, sickly. Dew growls low, still fucking up into her hand, chasing an orgasm he promised her he couldn’t have. 

“Lus–”

“You lied to me.” 

Dew whines. He tips his head back finally breaking eye contact with her hand and his cock pistoning in and out of the toy. His cock is wet now. Slicked with his own pre mostly. Shiny and red when she pulls the toy almost all the way off. 

“This is different.” 

“Is it?” 

“Yes. Fuck, Lus.” 

Cumulus can’t stop looking at him. At the way his chest heaves. Muscles in his stomach jumping. He throws his arm over his face to hide his blush but it doesn’t work, it’s seeping down his throat. The shame painted over his features makes Cumulus throb. 

“Is it going to make you cum or not?” 

Dew’s quiet except for the harsh pants of his breathing. Finally he opens his mouth. “Yes. Fuck, are you happy? Yes it’s going to make me cum. You’re going to make me cum.” 

“When?” 

He whines. Fingers clenching. “Fuck. Soon.” 

It’s a handful of seconds later when he starts to tense up. She gives him two mores strokes. Watches the way his toes clench, the way his balls draw up. Then she pulls the toy off, away. Dew wails. Eyes snapping open wide. Body jerking as his orgasm stalls before it even starts. 

His cock kicks wildly, a spurt of precum rolls down the head.

“Fuck. Fuck. nononono.” 

Cumulus grins at him when he finally looks at her face. His eyes pulled wide, betrayal spinning through them. He pants, digging his fingers into her thigh so hard she knows she’ll bruise. 

“What the fuck, Lus.” He pants. He reaches for the toy, her hand. She pulls them out of his reach. “Let me cum. Please you gotta–”

She pushes two fingers past his lips, cutting his words off as she pets over his tongue. Smearing the lingering taste of herself over it. She grins, syrupy sweet and deadly. 

“If you cum in anything tonight, make sure it’s me.” 

[karkatbug]

🦀⛽️🕶️

They've rented a cottage for the long weekend. It's a bunch of them, they're college kids so they lie about the number of guests, of course, but it is the only way they can afford the place. There was plenty of room if people didn't mind sharing beds. Dave wasn't that close with most of the trolls joining them, but he's chill about it. He'd stick with his friends and give whoever looked in his direction an aloof nod of acknowledgment or whatever the fuck. The occasional awkward interaction was to be expected.

What he doesn't expect is one of the few trolls he did know well to pester the group chat and ask for help. The dumbass apparently slept in. He was also supposed to drive Terezi and Sollux, both of which found last-minute rides when he didn't answer them in the morning. He was on his way on his lonesome, which, fine. Glad Shouty McGee was going to make it to lunch with zero complaints, surely, but whatever. What catches Dave off guard is the fact that he's on his phone. Karkat was pretty fucking anal about texting while driving.

Apparently, he's stuck in the middle of the highway. Out of gas? Seriously? How unprepared could a guy be for a trip he had personally put so much effort into planning! That was like forgetting to attend your own birthday party. We're all here with our silly hats, Karkat. Get it together, man.

Dave is voluntold by his friends to buy some gas at the stop they're currently stretching their legs at and make the arduous trip to wherever the hell Karkat was stranded. That's what being physically fit got you, apparently. He eyes the Buc-ee's begrudgingly, wondering how much brisket it would take to forfeit him from his role.

No amount of gas station beef would ever be worth the sacrifice of his bowels, he concludes.

It takes him a bit of illegal jogging along the side of the highway, a few cases of being honked at and resisting the urge to flip them off, and a lot of time (an hour and twenty-four minutes to be precise), for him to make it to Karkat sitting on the roof of his car dejectedly.

He is uncharacteristically silent when he and Dave fill his tank. He thanks him and they're off to the rest stop they planned to meet at.

"What's up? You definitely crapped the bed at about every turn you made today, but you usually don't let that shit stop you from verbally assaulting my hear ducts."

"Just say ears," Karkat mumbles. His bags are darker than usual. Hair messier, frown deeper, brows furrowed and grip on the steering wheel turning his gray skin translucent. Dave eyes the veins on the back of his hands curiously.

"Are you okay, dude?"

Karkat quickly glances at Dave then back to the road, eyes momentarily widened by, what, surprise? "Like you give a shit, Dave. Let's just try to remain civil until the fucking cottage and then we can fuck off to our sides of the forest like some bad re-enactment of... of—"

"Oh fuck you can't even come up with an indiscernibly pathetic excuse of an analogy. I'll find us the nearest hospital."

"Fuck off, Strider! I'm just tired."

"Yeah, no shit. You like, never sleep in. You never sleep period."

Karkat hums. The sound has Dave putting down his phone and observing the other carefully. This is probably the first time he's sat alone with the other. This is definitely the first time he's given him his undivided attention. Something aches in him when he looks at Karkat.

They make it to the rest stop and find out that their friends had met up and left together to accept the key from the Airbnb owner at their previously agreed time. It's not ideal for Dave. Part of the trip he most looked forward to was being on the road with his friends, not fucking Karkat Vantas, but he was out of options and he wasn't about to be a wet blanket about it. They get some human slash troll fuel in the form of sandwiches and coffee, and head back to the car to fill the tank. Dave leans against the side of the trunk while eating his breakfast and simultaneously talking Karkat's ear off about the things he learned that morning, sensing that the other needed a distraction.

Jade's TA broke his tailbone and canceled lab on the day of the exam review, and may or may not have given his students the test bank as an apology, which Karkat is going to appreciate during the next semester when he takes the course. Karkat definitely perks up at that, which is good. A first sign of life behind those defeated eyes!

Dave also tells him Rose keeps talking about Kanaya's thesis which Karkat grumbles Jesus, same here, with the suffering being in reverse. He gets some grade-A Karkat complaints out of that one, which is fan-fucking-tasking. We're almost back to normal.

Finally, Dave drops a bomb. Turns out John dropped out of school? Like, a month ago?

"What?!"

"Yeah, fucking join the club, dude. We're still trying to figure out what the fuck happened there."

"Why? He wasn't failing out or anything! He always had his shit together too. He was doing better off than most of us fuckheads."

"You're preaching to the choir, man. I'm thinking we give him some pure vodka and speedrun getting an answer out of him this weekend."

"I'll hold him down while you funnel it in his mouth," Karkat answers seriously. They snort in unison. It's not that serious. It's sad, yeah. There's that silent understanding that John wasn't okay at all, but Christ what can you do in these kinds of situations but cope with a little humor? Karkat returns the pump and takes the sandwich Dave offers him without a word. They move the car to the parking lot and eat in silence for a moment. It's surprisingly nice. The sky is blue, the morning chill is still there since Karkat has his windows down, and they can hear excited chatter among chirping birds in the background. It was still the road trip experience Dave sought. It was nice. Even if it was with Karkat. Dave looks over to him, and can't get that aching feeling out of his heart.

"How are you doing with school?" he asks.

Karkat glares down at his sandwich. Dave thinks he's not going to get a response, but the fight seems to leave Karkat with the exasperate sigh he lets out. "I'm okay. I'm not about to drop out or anything. Just tired."

"Yeah, I feel you."

"It's a lot to fucking juggle."

Dave nods. They eat the last of their sandwiches and sip their coffees. The smell of diesel fills the air, but it's easy to ignore now that they've sat in it for so long.

"I just wish I was doing it better."

"It?"

"Everything! Academically, socially, fuck, romantically. I thought I'd be doing it all so differently."

"Your romcoms have poisoned your brain, Karkat. Elle Woods isn't real, dude. She can't hurt you."

"She'd never hurt me."

"You'll never be her, either."

"Fuck you! Now I want to watch Legally Blonde but I have to sit with you for another hour and stare at nothing but concrete and play is it garbage or roadkill?"

"Okay, first of all, it's always roadkill."

"Eugh."

"Secondly, I can reenact the movie from memory on our way to the lakehouse if you want. I'll even do different voices."

"That sounds awful," Karkat says with a smile. Dave catches himself grinning too. The ache has settled when they take one last bathroom break and stretch their legs. Dave sees Karkat's exhaustion for what it is, a tired nineteen-year-old who needs to catch a break, and insists on driving them the rest of the way. Karkat, for as good as he thinks he is at debating with others to get his way, stands no chance to Dave snatching his keys out of his hand and holding them out of reach above his head. Take that, you petite little idiot. You absolute fucking fool.

Dave takes his rightful seat behind the wheel and waits for Karkat to begrudgingly join him.

"Before we go, I have two rules," Dave mentions casually when the other puts on his seatbelt.

"Tell them both to go fuck themse—"

"Rule number one. You gotta try to catch some Z's man. It's fucking freaky when you're all quiet and despondent. Nobody's gonna sit with Mr. Doom and Gloom at the bonfire."

Karkat doesn't have a rebuttal, which only proves Dave's point. "Jesus, at least pretend to be offended that I dare have the audacity to claim that you aren't going to be the life of the party."

"I'm fucking not, why would I pretend I am? I'll be lucky if my friends remember that I'm there."

Oh. The ache is back. Karkat's wobbling voice certainly doesn't help. Dave places a hand on Karkat's shoulder and squeezes, hoping to get his attention. He's stubbornly turned away from Dave, looking out the window.

"They don't actually care if I'm there. I slept in and no one thought to come to check on me. Or to drag me out of my respiteblock! They all readjusted so fast. I think they were hoping I'd turn back. I probably should have—"

"Hey. They love you. I don't know where this shit is coming from but all your friends ever do is talk about you. Like. Fondly. Fuck, even my friends got the Vantas infection. I can't go two minutes without someone bringing up how something I said reminded them of you."

More silence. Well, and a sniffle.

"Damnit, Karkat." Dave reaches over and cups the other's cheeks, forcing him to turn and meet his gaze. "Your sleep-deprived pan is playing some cruel tricks on you. Trust me, I'm the king of having Mean Brain Syndrome and silent breakdowns."

"Really?" He sounds so small. He looks small. Wide, watery eyes, flushed cheeks and messy locks of jet-black hair accentuating his youthful features. "I can't imagine you of all people..." he trails off, piercing gaze seemingly looking through Dave's shades and straight into his soul.

Dave releases Karkat's cheeks a little too fast, but the other doesn't notice as he sniffles and wipes his nose with his sleeve.

"Yeah, dude. Of course. It's not all smooth raps and sick beats up in here." Karkat scoffs. Dave gently punches his arm. "I'm just saying, man. None of us got our shit together. We all have stuff going on and sometimes we get so tunnel-visioned we don't see the people around us."

Karkat sniffles again.

"Terezi went with Vriska."

"Ugh. That explains it."

"And Sollux somehow decided the fun van with Fef, Aradia and Eridan was the play."

Karkat laughs. It seems that understanding dawns on him as he nods at Dave. He punches him in the arm as well, none too gently mind you, the prick, but he's smiling again, which is good. Fucking day saved by the Dave-meister, master of unflipping shit and returning life to the way it was supposed to be: with an angry little troll and his volume control issues.

"So yeah, time to abide by rule number one."

"Fine, but—" Karkat pulls Dave into a hug that neither expect judging by how stiff Karkat is at first, which is hilariously ironic. Karkat was a hugger. Dave, not so much. Karkat hugging Dave was fucking absurd, but hey. Maybe they could blame this weird turn of events on the gasoline fumes they've been inhaling for the past half hour.

Dave melts into the embrace. He gets why everyone tackles Karkat for these. He's warm and sorta just... slots perfectly into your arms.

"Thanks, Dave," he says quietly enough that Dave almost misses it. "Seriously."

"No probs, dude. I know we aren't that close but fuck me if we can't trauma bond through the bullshit that is undergrad."

Karkat huffs a small laugh. Dave pats his back. They're about to pull away when Karkat quickly adds, "You're really nice."

"Yeah, the nicest. So about that going to sleep so that I don't have to hear you talk rule, hm?"

"No," Karkat says, jostling Dave for emphasis. He then squeezes him tightly. "You can't dry-humor your way out of this sincere one-to-one with me, Strider. You're kind-hearted and I need to make sure you know that."

Now that's funny. Dave is a lot of things. He's lucky most do think of him as cool. His closest friends call him a dork, but hey, that's fine too. But kind-hearted? His Bro would have laughed in his face if he heard that. He'd then proceed to beat the shit out of him for making him hear something so fucking atrocious. Dave pulls away from the hug with a crooked grin. He has nothing to say to something so absurd. Instead, he turns his attention to twisting the key in the ignition and pressing his foot down on the brake as he puts the car in reverse.

Kind-hearted.

Yeah, okay dude. Sure. Fuck. His chest tightens. He hopes the other doesn't notice the little spiral he's having. He focuses on his breathing, and on his exhale; he's good. All he needed was to breathe out and he was back to normal. Easy peasy.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, fuck. I'm going to try to sleep. Wake me up when we get there. Or if I talk in my sleep."

"No way dude, that sounds like some prime fucking entertainment."

Dave checks behind him to make sure no one is walking by. He slowly releases the brake just as Karkat asks "What was the second rule?"

"Oh yeah. We need some tunes," Dave says as he presses what he thinks is the radio button. Music plays, but turns out it's from whatever playlist Karkat had been listening to on his way here.

Dave slams on the brake.

"Dave, what the fuck! O—oh. Um."

It's from Dave's mixtape. He has a collection of his music that he sometimes drops in the big group chat. He never expects anyone to listen to it more than once, let alone at all. Some of their mutual friends were so polite with their responses. "It's so good, Dave!" was always appreciated. He knows how hard it was to get someone to listen to a song recommendation, let alone a song you put out, period, so he takes those kind comments with the utmost grace.

But knowing someone liked his music enough to listen to it again, on repeat, on a long drive out of town. To have his music chosen as the dedicated theme song to a long road trip, something people tend to argue over, debating over which songs should be played, something that he personally takes pretty fucking seriously, breaks something in him. The ache he thought he felt for Karkat comes back tenfold. He realizes it's a pain he's only ever harbored for himself, but kept deep within the pits of his chest, that comes bursting out of him.

"What the fuck?" Dave laughs. His voice cracks as he says it. His eyes sting, for some reason. Why was this like a punch in the gut to him? He should be flattered, and he is, but this turn of events is so unexpected he can only feel emotional.

"What? It's good! Fucking sue me for unironically liking something my friend made."

Dave laughs again. Fuck! He wipes his tears with his sleeve, bumping his shades out of the way as he does. Friend? He's only ever been flippant to Karkat's entire existence! He's only ever complained about his raucous laughter and teased him about his sleep-deprived fits. He's only ever poked fun at his abhorrent tastes in movies and dismissed his multiple attempts at pulling some form of sincerity out of Dave. Kind-hearted? Dave was the opposite. Those words should be used to describe Karkat, if anything.

"Uh oh. I broke you too. Great! I knew I was cursed."

Dave laughs again, teetering on the edge of hysteria as his song's beat changes, transitioning to an uptick of those snares he loves so much.

"Fuck. No, I'm good. I'm fine," Dave says as he wipes the last of his tears. "You have awful taste, dude. In movies and music and friends."

"Fuck you. Everything you just listed is something I can confidently say I have superior taste in. Your primitive human puzzle sponge couldn't absorb a fine understanding of the arts and friendship the way I do even if you lobotomized yourself trying!"

"Lobotomizing myself sounds like the exact thing I'd need to do to get to your level."

They banter some more. It seems Karkat is choosing to help Dave get over his brief emotional meltdown by acting like he never noticed it to begin with. Their teasing arguments eventually transition to pleasant conversation, then nothing at all. Karkat falls asleep, head resting against the window, his hood tucked between his ear and the hard surface acting as a cushion. Dave can admit, in the deepest recesses of his mind, that Karkat looks cute like this.

He also thinks he's safe from those thoughts and whatever the fuck is going on in his stomach (sword-fighting moths, he concludes) when they make it to the cottage. He parks the car next to John's and looks out at the lake. A few of their friends were on the deck, already unpacked and settled in. Dave turns to Karkat's sleeping figure and gently shakes his shoulder. The other only groans in response, which, fuck. Okay. He's cute is a thought that apparently refuses to go back into those mind recesses they came from. They've had enough of running around on the field and going down the stainless steel slides that burn your skin in the unbearable Texas heat. Those intrusive Karkat is cute thoughts want to stay at the forefront of his brain, ever the studious student working toward a 4.0 GPA.

Dave looks at Karkat, and again at their friends, who haven't noticed their arrival.

"Hey," he says quietly. He shakes him again, but Karkat is stubbornly refusing to open his eyes. Fine by him. Dave unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over. "Hey, Karkat," he repeats. No response. Dave squeezes his shoulder and experiences the most pathetic attempt at someone wriggling away from his grasp ever. A fucking toddler could fight him off better.

Karkat frowns as he's gently jostled from his slumber. His pouting lips are a little dry from the air conditioning, but his cheeks are plump and rosy from his hour-long slumber. Dave finds he can't stop himself from trying to find out what it feels like. He uses the back of his index finger to caress the skin and confirms with some degree of glee that it's exactly what he thought it'd be. Smooth and warm and inviting. Without a second thought, he leans over and presses his lips to Karkat's cheek.

Eyes fly open. Long lashes flutter and incoherent sounds of confusion escape dry lips, but Dave isn't processing any of it. He couldn't if he tried. His heart is hammering so loudly in his chest that it feels like his brain produced white noise just to protect his eardrums from it. He's out of the car in an instant, telling Karkat that they made it and he'd see him around before shutting the door behind him and rushing inside to meet with his friends.

Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck.

"Hey! You made it in one piece!" John laughs.

Dave jumps and whips around to the voice.

"Yeah, more or less," Dave nods, trying his damnest to seem nonchalant. His friends are in the kitchen, distracted with lunch preparations. He hovers for a bit, catching them up to speed on the ride: totally boring and uneventful, by the way, (I didn't just kiss Karkat and run away), and tries to offer his assistance wherever possible. He's only met with polite rejection and a mean smack to the back of his hand for trying to snack on some of the appetizers. Eventually, he is dismissed to collect his belongings from the living room since the couches are claimed by two. He's instructed to put his overnight bag in the one bedroom they have left, a single Twin XL bed.

"Hey, sorry I tried to save you a spot with us but everyone sort of first come first served the place," John says with an apologetic shrug. "You and Karkat are gonna have to share."

Fuck.

[gintrinsic-writing]

Trust, and Its Destruction

CW: violence

--

Lightning streaked across the sky amid black, cascading clouds. Where it struck, no living thing remained. 

“Fall back!” Warriors roared over the clamor��over hungry gibdos’ screeching, thunderous booms, and ringing steel. Burn marks covered nearly half of his torso. They promised to be lethal if not treated soon. “Four! Fall back!”

But how could he? How could Four simply run when it was a friend—a brother—whose blood fed the darkness they faced? Never again, came the thought, and it echoed in his mind four separate times. 

Eyes flashing violet, Four slashed through the belly of the nearest monster, then raced toward the center of the courtyard. Fire singed his hair as dodged magical attacks, and he struggled to breathe through all the smoke. Not thirty feet to his left, Wind tried to drag Legend’s unconscious body away from the mayhem. Time covered them, dimly lit by Nayru’s Love. Even from a distance, Four thought he could make out Legend’s left lung in the crater of his chest. 

“Four, you can’t save him!” It was Sky, this time, who called for a retreat. Sky, who fought swiftly and brutally, but who couldn’t last against the sheer numbers sent their way. Defending Sky’s back, drenched in the blood of monsters, Twilight snarled like the wolf he was as he decapitated a bokoblin. Wild was nowhere to be seen.

Can’t save him, can’t save him, can’t save him! It lingered like a curse, a seed sprouting past and present failures, dooming Four to grief before he even had a chance to make a difference. Still, he didn’t let it stop him. He slashed his way to the courtyard, using the Roc’s Feather to leap past debris in the way. Forks of lightning struck at his heels, near-deafening in their proximity.  Four ran, and he stabbed, and he hoped, and then he came face-to-face with the person at the center of it all. 

Sparks ignited above each of Hyrule's fingers as he prepared another devastating attack. His sword still dripped with Legend’s blood. 

“Snap out of it!” Four pleaded. “I know you’re still in there, Hyrule!”

Hyrule paused, tilting his head to one side. His dispassionate eyes stared from within a haze of dark power. “It makes no difference,” he said simply. Uhurried, unbothered.

“It makes all the difference!” Four argued, unable to keep from flinching when he heard Warriors cry out in pain from somewhere behind him. “You aren’t Ganon’s puppet. Fight him! I know you can.”

Hyrule smiled, and somehow that was worse than the emptiness he’d shown before. “I’d always thought that my blood could revive the King of Evil…” Suddenly, the sparks above his fingers erupted into white-hot flames. “But as it turns out, power like that can attach to any soul.”

Dread pooled in Four’s gut. “No. No, this isn’t you! I refuse to believe it.”

“Believe it or not,” Hyrule purred, and the darkness around him surged. “I’ll destroy you all the same.”

[cinderella-ish]

Upload Schedule

I've been having a burst of creativity and output lately, which has been awesome! But I start work again tomorrow and I know that'll mean a pretty big drop in output.

I really, really love teaching, but it sucks that being a teacher with a chronic illness means I don't have energy for much of anything else during the school year. Ah well.

Anyway, here's my hopeful upload schedule for the foreseeable future:

Bloom Within Us: every other week

like the flowers and the bees and oneshots for lovers alone wear sunlight (and any non-Furuba oneshots that happen to take over my brain *cough cough ItaFushi cough*): posting as completed (no set schedule)

ichigo ichie and Of Lost Cats and Half-Shadows: alternating monthly (for example, a chapter of ichigo ichie in September would mean a chapter of Of Lost Cats... in October)

The One Who Stays and whatever canon divergence I begin for Fruits Basket Mondays AU week: alternating monthly (similar to the two crossovers)

Right now, this *feels* doable, especially since I have a few chapters already written for Bloom Within Us, but I may need to pull back a bit depending on how it goes (plus I might be starting my masters this year?? so there's that). If that's the case, Bloom Within Us is the priority until it's finished.

I am genuinely excited for all of these fics (lovers alone wear sunlight isn't really a fic, but ykwim) and I have a clear vision for all of them, so it's just a matter of getting the words on the page (always the hard part!).

On another note, I've started translating my own oneshots into French because I apparently didn't have enough projects going on??? And I've been learning how to do digital art and have an Akito-centric project in mind for that??? So those are two more things you'll hopefully see soon! 😅

[zincbart]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Between the Ears: An Anthology of Thought, Dark Sun (BtE) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Venna & Havoc Characters: H.A.V.O.C (Dark Sun), Venna (Dark Sun) Additional Tags: Experimental Style, Dialogue-Only, i'm not sure what other tags i can add here, Robots, Multiplicity/Plurality, if you see that plural tag. basically the end point of havoc and venna's story is they decide to be a system about it Summary:

Havoc and Venna have a moral discussion in an uncertain situation.

[sparkles-oflight]

Finishing my story's 5th chapter vs Having to proofread it

[izzy-b-hands]

On a fun, non tech issue related note, I have random fic updates info to share just because

first, I've nearly finished a fang/izzy/ed modern au fic (done purely to give them a big ole great pyr bc that just Felt Right for them lol)

There's also an ed/stede focused (ed/izzy ongoing and future steddyhands implied) Cinderella rewrite that's more or less done. Aside from usual general editing stuff, I think it'll mostly be me finding more spots to describe Ed's sea witch-magically-made ball gown, and maybe bits abt ed and his mum? there's no evil stepmum, just Ed's mum and him deciding well. everyone ELSE is going to try and see if the prince will essentially propose to them at this ball, if they can find a way to get the appropriate clothing why not have Ed try?

A lot of that is already implied tho bc it starts in the middle of the ball so. might be unneeded details that I won't really have room to add?

but i like making it clear in this one that like. Ed's mum isn't upset when he comes back home in tears and tatters; she's there to tell him good job for going at all with implied thanks to sea witch Buttons and Karl for their help in that. They're a team in this; Ed wants to look after his mum to try and give her an easier/better life and Ed's mum just wants him to be happy and safe and doing better than they are now.

As a bonus, Ed gets Stede, a huge house to live in with him on royal land, and once Izzy gets to come home from the royal navy (what better than having Stede's shithead dad/king conscript away Ed's current betrothed, leaving Izzy to tell Ed to find someone until he's back and then hope that they'll be willing to share. and stede is happily willing!) he'll be welcome to live there with them and essentially be a married man to them both who also gets to avoid any official royal events with this set up which, if i was writing a sequel to where the current fic stops, is exactly what he wants aksndkfng

This has been a huge ramble for the second fic, but I'm rather fond of it. wish i could draw well enough to sketch out Ed's dress in it too, but i wouldn't inflict that image on anyone even if i did dare to try drawing up the design lmaooo

but it's pretty. glittery and full skirts and a corset top. not historically accurate but we're just having fun with it (as are all my fics set anywhere near actual canon timeline tbh, I'm a step away from randomly giving one person a cell phone on the Revenge in a canon timeline fic. will it work? if it does, how? where did they get it? fun questions to ask but more fun if the person simply refuses to answer them)

enough rambling, at least until i get it edited, posted to ao3 and then post that link and ramble in the tags there lmao

[rkived]

Hey,

I've been wanting to read pining 101 but the drabble links aren't opening? Did u delete the drabbles by any chance?

hi yes that’s bc i changed my user and was too lazy to also change the url on the pining 101 drabbles lmao i’ll get to it ….

[becci-chan]

For the @stevetonygames 2023 Team Past Square "Nope Nope Nope"

[starlightarchery]

creation both haunted & holy (made in glory). ↪ first chapter is up on AO3

preview:

Ruskin rolls his eyes. “Wasn't anything so dramatic as that. I just, said some things. Loudly. Where everyone could hear.” Berard arches a brow at him, and despite himself, Ruskin feels his cheeks burn under the scrutiny. “Oh, whatever. Big mouth needed to be taken down a peg, everybody knows it. He's just as fair game as the rest of us.” “Nothin’ fair about their workings, scamp. And their world ain't gonna ignore you just cause you think you got rightness on yer side.” There’s a hiccup in his grin then, much as he tries to hold it back; tries to keep it at a distance. But distant is the only way he’s ever lived in the world, always out of key for reasons he’s never been able to track. And before he can stop it, he finds himself mumbling back, “Nothin’ right about the world anyhow.”

[creativitycache]

EDIT: 5/18/24 Lore.fm has deleted its app, its website, and all prior TikToks. They uploaded a TikTok apologizing for the stress they caused EDIT: Update Lore.fm’s current version has been shut down! 5/17/24

Hey I don’t know if this is being talked about on Tumblr but thankfully the AO3 subreddit has a conversation going about this app that just went live.

TikTok user unravel.me.now has just launch an app (lore.fm) she is calling “Audible for AO3”. It’s an app that uses AI voices to read out fics.

🚨She is requiring any authors who do not want their fics to be on this app to OPT OUT by emailing team@lore.fm 🚨 🚨She has not given an actual template or how you’re supposed to prove you’re the author or said how her team will process this or how she will keep these requests secure🚨

I do not have this app. I haven’t seen anyone use it yet. According to Reddit users, unravel.me.now’s earlier TikToks stated she envisions the app being able to create libraries stored on that app and to have version of “Spotify wrapped”. That implies that eventually data collection must happen, if it’s not happening currently.

I don’t know the actual capabilities of this app. I don’t know the legalities. I do know that it personally feels like this app is trying to turn AO3 into a content generation source and I haven’t heard of the app allowing you to leave a comment or kudos or interact with the original work.

I’m just sad about this.

[softaestluv]

Nine Lives

Simon Riley posts an ad for a stray cat he does not want and you answer.

Simon ‘ghost’ Riley x f! Reader

tags: short n’ sweet, fluff, denial, eventual smut/romance

Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4 Pt. 5, last part | Ao3 | mlist ✎ᝰ.ᐟ

A cat.

A stupid cat.

A stupid fawn cat with sharp golden eyes.

Simon Riley has faced many adversaries in his life, laid awake in the face of death more times than he can count.

And yet, the most insistent, burdensome, inconvenience he has ever faced is a cat. A stupid cat. A stupid fawn cat with sharp golden eyes.

Simon Riley is not a cat person, not necessarily an animal person either. He doesn’t understand humans as it is, animals are even more difficult to wrap his head around. At least most humans have a basic understanding to be afraid of the bulking man they cross paths with, and avoid him at all costs. Don’t seek refuge with the apparition of a man who wears his scars like a badge of honor.

At least most humans don’t sit on his porch doorstep alongside the tattered skull mat that Laswell gave him as a housewarming gift months ago. Don’t return day after day, night after night, after being shooed and shushed away with a swat of his hand and harshly uttered words.

Simon hasn’t even fed said fawn-colored cat, hasn’t even brushed a pet against the back of its neck, and there it sits, perched on its hind legs, sniffing, and meowing for his attention, waiting for the day he bends down with a palm full of kibble as an offering. But Simon would be a dead man before that day ever comes.

Maybe the previous tenant fed the bloody cat. Maybe the previous tenant just left the poor cat to fend for itself when they moved out.

Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter because he wasn’t that person. Simon wasn’t the previous tenant who had a soft heart for a ball of fur and golden beady eyes. Wasn’t the person the cat was searching for and he wasn’t about to pretend he was.

So, day after day, night after night, he continued to slam his withered door in the face of his biggest adversary, a stupid cat.

When this did not work, he picked the cat up and placed it on the sidewalk in front of his house in hopes it would not return, but minutes later, there was a quiet, disgruntled meowing outside his window. He should have known that would not work.

Then, he started walking it a few blocks away, placing it amongst random stranger's backyards; the minutes of peace without a furry animal outside his doorstep turned into hours, but like an animal trained, there it would arrive hours later.

Simon almost, almost, felt bad, disgusted when the cat would purr eagerly and contentedly in his large palms, searching for his brutish affection just for him to toss it to the side. He even asked his elderly neighbor if she wanted the bloody cat, but she claimed five cats were enough on her plate. Five cats, he grumbled; what the bloody hell was the difference between five and six cats?

When none of this worked, he shoved the fawn-colored cat into his old pick-up, pushed it away with stiff elbows as it kept trying to nudge its small head against his arms, and drove across town. Left it at a park, surely a whiny child would pick it up with nubby hands and sticky fingers and throw a high-pitched tantrum until their mother agreed to take the cat home.

Two days went by without matted fur on his house mat or adamant meowing. Simon thought he won, conquered the worst enemy of all, fangs and claws. The third day he woke up with shoulders that weighed a little less, a headache that didn’t throb as painfully behind his eyelids or temples.

Simon Riley wasn’t a man of hope. He acted and shaped the outcome of his life with his bare hands and preservation. Maybe his first mistake was letting a glimmer of hope shine between his irises for three whole days because, on the fourth day, he heard an all too familiar scratching at his wooden door.

He cursed the day he lived.

His last ditch effort was to upload an ad on the internet, quite an inconvenience for a man who had a flip phone as a means of communication, but creating an ad was the only solution he could possibly imagine to solve his four-legged problem.

‘Bloody stray cat won’t leave me alone, and I don’t want it. FREE for anyone who’s willing. I’ll even drive it to your location to get it off my hands.’

Truly, he thought he might be too wishful thinking anyone would respond to such an ad, but he was pleasantly surprised when he woke up to a message the next morning.

‘Hi! I would love to take the precious baby off your hands! :)’

[ginsherrywasathing]

"It had been three days. Three days since Gin had put a bullet through Miyano’s heart. Three days of bliss. But he couldn’t tell Sherry that. Instead, he extended his hand towards her face. Before his fingertips could even brush against her skin, though, she turned away, stepping out of his reach," or: Gin has to face the consequences of his own actions.

[whisperofaflame]

Collision Course

Masterlist

Summary: 

After moving to New York, a collision while cycling sends you flying into the lives of Wanda Maximoff and her wife, Natasha Romanoff. Together, they teach you a new way of belonging and being loved.

Featuring: 

Slow Burn, Light BDSM, Mommy Kink, Praise Kink, Subspace, Aftercare, Soft Corruption, Healthy Communication, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff & Angst, Eventual Smut.

Chapter by Chapter on Tumblr: (slowly being uploaded)

Chapter 1: The Second of Three Chapter 2: A Tale of Two Cities Chapter 3: The Cat, the Witch and the Spider Chapter 4: Reason Over Romance Chapter 5: Sometimes Leaning In, Sometimes Backing Away Chapter 6: Watching and Waiting Chapter 7: Wax and Wane Chapter 8: Undercurrents and Understanding Chapter 9: Picnic in the Park Chapter 10: Fragile and Yielding Chapter 11: The Coveting Chapter 12: That Fuzzy Feeling Chapter 13: Side by Side Chapter 14: Walking the Line Chapter 15: What Would Wanda Think? Chapter 16: I don't know who I am, when I am with you Chapter 17: Too much and not enough

Link to full fic (so far) on AO3, including all chapters above.

Link to B-Sides (bonus chapters)